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lorei-writes · 2 months

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Character Thoughts: Character Design #1 - Chevalier, Gilbert, Leon

My personal outlook on the character design choices in Pri is that the primary objective of the artist behind them was to reflect personality of the suitor rather than to fit within any specific time period. As such, it becomes a question... What can be read from their looks?

Images were sourced from @acrispyapple 's blog.

Chevalier

Chevalier's colour scheme is all black and white, with subtle golden touches. It is fairly simplistic and may draw forward the image of a white tiger -- a ferocious although rare beast. It creates a frightening backdrop for any blood that may be spilled... and accurately enough, may serve as a reflection of a binary logic mindset.

Asymmetric cape allows for greater freedom of movement. The arm he draws his sword with is not going to be restrained under the weight of fabric. His boots look suitable for horse riding and the cut of his jacket, I believe, is meant to resemble military uniforms of centuries prior. Chevalier is covered from his fingertips to his very neck -- there isn't a vulnerability exposed in him. He is vigilant, he is ready to act, he is guarded. His skin will not be first to be cut, poison will not enter his system without struggle, his hand will not slip on the hilt of his sword even as it grows slick from crimson. Chevalier is a knight.

But through and through, he is also royalty. The haft at his hip could be called subtly ornate, albeit the material it's been made of makes it more so "humbly" opulent. The gold he dons speaks of riches, as does the fur at his collar. He's a commander. He is a noble. His position clearly separates him from others.

Chevalier is eye-catching. And were he involved in battle? You'd fear what you'd see. As you should.

Gilbert

Black, white and gold also follow Gilbert around. However, if in Chevalier's case it could have been argued that the split between darkness and light was even, then Gilbert is the dark itself. The rest are merely accents. They do not reveal much of his mystery, do not offer anything past sparse commentary on it... And I believe they aren't supposed to. Gilbert is the unknown. He is threatening and he is very clear about it.

The orders at his chest, the cut of the lapels, his boots -- it is hard not to see signs of Gilbert being involved with military. However, his clothes have clearly not been designed for ease of movement. They seem heavy, like he could get twisted in them at any moment and collapse, not to mention the heat. Long and heavily adorned with patterned accents, gold, they speak of might... But of that becoming of a commander, not a person who fights themselves. The cravat at his neck is yet another sign of how far removed he is from direct action. It is both a liability in combat and a sign of status.

Gloves, cane and eyepatch. Why should a person of his age need them? Surely, this question comes with simple answers... But are they quite correct? There's a dissonance there. You can see his secrets, but it does not mean they will be revealed to you. He, after all, too is guarded.

Leon

Another character dressed in black! But... Leon's is different, isn't it? It speaks of mystery, of secrets, surely, but when combined with noble gold and warm red... It is almost as if he wanted to say "I wish I could tell you, but I cannot". Even if not everything can be made clear, it is evident his actions are underlined with royal scarlet of high ideals.

Leon is a hero. You can see it in his wear -- it is much too informal to place him among the military, but it undeniably shows power and readiness to take up direct action. The guard at his shoulder may be complex, but the same cannot be said about the design of the hilt at his hip. It is simple, so much so that it begs to ask who else could wield it. If that is his weapon of choice, how far above a common knight does Leon see himself? Or... does he consider himself to be above them at all?

Based on the quality of his clothing and detail put into it alone, it is evident that Leon is not a person you may pass on the streets. However, his hands are out there, completely unprotected. And the way he wears his cape? His belts? The sash? It is utterly proper. Even if the lapels of his jacket do not follow any standards for uniforms, it is still buttoned up as it should be. Relaxed (or as relaxed as it may be for royalty), it gives him a laid-back, reliable appearance. The lion insignia clearly signifies who he is.

What are you hiding, Leon? We are at arm's length. You shine too bright... Yet you also mean us no harm.

#chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen prince chevalier #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen series #leon dompteur #ikepri leon #ikemen prince leon #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen prince gilbert

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clavissionary-position · 2 months

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Cyran: Okay, so, have you ever tried telling him no?

Roderich: (puts his mug down) We're talking about the same person, right?

Cyran: Okay, fair point. But what if you just, kind of...

Lucien: Negotiation.

Cyran: (points his drink at Lucien) That.

Roderich: I'm sorry, but again, we're talking about the same person, right?

Cyran: But have you ever actually tried it out?

Roderich: Of course I have. Why do you think I wear a hood and not an entire suit of armor?

Lucien: Noisy.

Lucien: Cumbersome.

Cyran: That's a good point there. Meaning you didn't actually negotiate so much as he was probably just messing with you from the start.

Lucien: Illusion of choice.

Lucien: Mindfuckery.

Roderich: Okay! If you think you know so much, how come you never negotiated with your master to be able to speak more than a couple words at a time?

Lucien: I did.

Cyran: Yeah, he used to speak in entire poems consisting of iambic pentameter before Prince Chevalier gave him permission to chill.

Roderich: (trying to comprehend the backwards logic) He needed permission for that?

Cyran: Pfft. Says the guy who can't even take restroom breaks without asking his master first.

Roderich: (aside to Gilbert) Permission to respond in all-caps, Sir?

Gilbert: Hehe, go wild.

Roderich: Thank you, Sir.

Roderich: (to Cyran) I JUST REALLY RESPECT HIM, OKAY

Cyran: YOU INVITED HIM TO HAPPY HOUR BRO-TIME!?

Gilbert: (waves gleefully) Thank you for having me.

Roderich: I don't keep any secrets from my master.

Lucien: (glares monosyllabically)

Lucien: Tool.

Gilbert: I hope you don't mind , but I also invited along—

Cyran: Do NOT say his name to me.

#ikemen prince #cyran rose #ikepri roderich #ikepri lucien #gilbert von obsidian #incorrect quote folder

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gogandmagog · 28 days

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✨Anne Blythe’s (Anne Shirley-Blythe’s namesake granddaughter) father is not Jem. It’s Shirley. It’s totally Shirley, you guys. It’s gotta be.✨

And like, Ieading right off by saying of course there’s no definitive answer to be had here, since Maud obviously isn’t available to confirm or refute any hypothesises, but I do big persist in suggesting that a very rational case can be presented for Shirley... one that at least outweighs what I now see as the generally baseless widely accepted assumption that Anne is Jem’s daughter. Keep in mind, I’m in no way trying to dog on this. The assumption is ready and easy to make, and I’d accepted fully this theory too, until about a week agooo.

ABOUT A WEEK AGO, I was poring over various Wikipedia entries for the Anne book series, and inevitably also ended up looking through the edit history of those pages. While sorting through the edit history (super extensive and interesting, by the way), the username ‘blefebvre’ popped into the archive, contributing a ton of information to the Anne pages overall, around 2008 and 2009 particularly. And literally, who else could this user be besides THE Benjamin Lefebvre? Brilliant Maud scholar and essayist, inexhaustible editor and publisher of ‘the Blythes are Quoted’? Welllll, one of these edits, a written family tree of Anne and Gilbert’s grandchildren, mentioned Anne Blythe... and pointedly noted that she was either the daughter of Jem or Shirley.

Reading that? Already a huge jump-scare surprise to me. This immediately challenged what I thought I knew about the third generation of Blythes. I sat straight up in bed, brain doing a nosedive, like wait wait wait wait wait… hold on, what? We don’t know for sure? We don’t know for sure?

Guys. We don’t know for sure.

Whichhhhh sent me on an immediate hunt to gather up what we do know for sure. The facts we do have. And it wasn’t a huge task, either… there’s really not a lot to collect.

But here it is:

In ‘the Blythes are Quoted’, Anne Blythe is mentioned in only one story, titled “The Road to Yesterday” (not to be confused with the TBAQ abridged predecessor book of the same title 😅).

All we really have of her is her name, and a couple of superficial second-hand anecdotes from a guy named Jerry (who is impersonating a fellow named Dick, but more on this a little later).

Her paternity is unconfirmed, but because her surname is Blythe (not Ford or Meredith), we can logically eliminate the possibility of her belonging to Nan, Di, or Rilla. Walter was, of course, lost in France. This leaves Jem and Shirley.

Tiny details about Anne.

As a matter of housekeeping, let me try to get the jump on any potential counter-arguments, and clear the air.

The only reason I’ve seen Jem credited with Anne is because…

1. Jem was married.

That’s the entire basis.

And I’ll grant you that. This is more than we got for Shirley. But let’s remember that at the end of ‘Rilla of Ingleside’, we only had a canon engagement between Jem and Faith... it takes getting around to ‘the Blythes are Quoted’ to absolutely conclude that their marriage went through. With the added extra bonus of finding out that they have children.

But even allowing that, ‘the Blythes are Quoted’ as an epilogue isn’t all inclusive. It isn’t a complete picture. It’s half a picture at the very best. Maud, pressured greatly, basically dumped all her disorganised, non-chronological and unedited Anne relevant WIPS + short stories + poems on her publisher's desk two days before she died. This is not a book that Maud put together, as a tailpiece collection. It was an assortment of partial works and in-character conversations that she’d tinkered with over decades. Works she never intended to see being published. They were vague ideas she was forming, little seeds. (It took a lot of effort from Benjamin Lefebvre to put TBAQ together in a readable way that made sense.)

Maud was over Anne. Over Anne by twenty years, at this point. So much so that noticeable character details and world building started slipping in Ingleside and Rilla… for obvious instance, in the lack of continuity around Shirley’s birth year, and the way readers saw almost no closure/representation for Shirley and Di, with varying degrees of near erasure in the original books.

But this doesn’t mean that Maud didn’t have plans for these two characters... their incomplete or unsatisfying stories certainly weren’t nefariously intended to be that way (there’s no secret meaning to the exclusion); Montgomery was just depleted and had been feeling ruinously dispassionate about the Blythes stories since ‘Anne of the Island’.

In ‘Reading Rilla’ we see in Maud’s many pages of left-out notes, that an ultimately scrapped journal entry from Rilla indicates that Diana Blythe wrote to their mother of her engagement to a foreign overseas officer. It’s unclear if this officer is the same ‘Austin boy’ that an older Glen woman in ‘the Blythes are Quoted’ privately wonders about (if Di 'really is engaged to him or not'), but this contradictory bit is probably just erroneous gossip from an unreliable narrator.

Anyway. All of this to say... that just because we don’t have a canon marriage for Shirley, it doesn’t disqualify him from having had a wife and kids in Maud’s post-war Four Winds. TBAQ stories were, to reiterate, half-pictures. Pictures that did/could drop a plot bomb in a single sentence. Looping back to Di, canonly we don’t have a marriage for her either... and yet, we do have two engagements that half-register. One engagement was definitive, reported by Di herself. The other a passing curiosity from someone not close enough to the Blythe family to know.

So... clearly, Maud had active intention, a plan, for Di and her own little happy epilogue. The same can be believed for Shirley. (I’m dying for the day the ‘Rainbow Valley’ and ‘Ingleside’ manuscripts get published, I’m convinced there’s more Shirley be found in the notes.) Now, let’s dig in to Anne Blythe herself.

‘The Road to Yesterday’ is a short story about a woman named Susette (a spinster at 28), who is on the brink of an engagement to a wealthy man named Harvey Brooks. She expects the next day to be proposed to. On a whim and feeling nostalgic, she drives to Glen St. Mary, where she lived in her girlhood, for the evening. While there, she runs into a fellow, whom she believes to be Dick, her childhood bully who she hated profoundly. Except now, they’re grown and capable acting chummy over their shared memories. The weather takes a bad turn, and they take shelter and a meal together. Susette spends most of the time, all their ‘do you remembers’, being irritated by Dick’s constant name-dropping of the Blythes. He claims to have been kind of secret friends with Anne Blythe, which is contrary to Susette’s memory that Anne hated Dick. (In the end, it turns out that Susette was right… this isn’t Dick she’s talking to. It’s Jerry Thornton, Dick’s cousin.)

For the official record every Blythe mentioned in ‘the Road to Yesterday’ is as follows: Doctor Blythe, Mrs. Doctor Blythe, Rilla Ford, Jem Blythe [Jr.], Di Meredith [Jerry and Nan’s], and Anne Blythe.

It’s mostly a bunch of school yard talk, but the big takeaway for this purpose is that the Blythe/Meredith cousins all hung out together as school children.

Here’s some direct examples:

*****

The cheap boiled-down version of this exchange, for those who haven’t ‘the Road to Yesterday’ is basically: Susette is having strange feelings during this interaction with ‘Dick’, she’s attracted to him, declaring to herself that she won’t fall in love with him, and is clearly irritated with the near constant Anne Blythe (especially)/Blythe references. Though she herself was very fond of Jem Blythe Jr. herself, during their childhood, ‘Dick’ mentioning Anne Blythe so fondly is increasingly Not Cute to Susette. Meanwhile, ‘Dick’ is enjoying this kind of teasing, and is lowkey successful at getting a rise out of Susette, not matter how determined she is to look unaffected.

But here’s the kicker... when ‘Dick’ finally leaves off mentioning Anne Blythe, guess what topic he moves on to? 🥁

The Royal Canadian Air Force.

And just who do we all know that was in the Royal Canadian Air Force?

Shirley.

Only Shirley.

First, it tracks that ‘Dick,’ soon enlisting (we’re on the brink of WWII timeline-wise), and thinking himself funny, would choose to move on from Anne Blythe to instead a subtler rib… what he, as a once good pal of Anne’s, would know was Anne’s dad’s war faction. It’s also in the realm of possibilities that thinking on Anne so much drew up this correlation. I also ALSO think it’s worth mentioning that the only other time that the Canadian Air Force is mentioned in TBAQ is a very passing drop for Rilla, thinking of her son Gilbert Ford enlisting with the CAF. That’s it. Just those two times.

Additionally important to note is the overall subtext tone in TBAQ, which is Maud’s very greatest collection of double-vision, double-speak and intertextual reference works. There’s a beautiful scholarly essay on this, in relation to TBAQ particularly HERE.

This doesn’t only apply to cultural references in TBAQ. It also adds layers to Maud’s own existing Anne series. It really could be considered a companion piece, with X-Ray vision, e.g. how we got a ton of ‘missing’ insight into Anne and her children’s lives and minds, during the Rainbow Valley era, in Part 1 of TBAQ.

Part 2 of TBAQ (where we find ‘the Road to Yesterday’) asks us to apply what we already know to the new text we’re given.

So, understanding this … if we’re going off what we already know from ‘Rilla of Ingleside’…

What’s the reason we have the Canadian Air Force mentioned in the same story that we learn of the existence of Anne Blythe? The connection?

It’s Shirley. 🥹

A weaker argument that I’ll only mention in mild passing, because it is very weak in terms of convincing evidence, is that the text unambiguously tells is that Anne Blythe has taught ‘Dick’ from Susan’s famous recipes. Susan is another Shirley tie. It’s there to be stated. BUT. I do admit that I think Susan would’ve taught every willing Blythe grandchild with the same zeal, maybe some partiality given to the Little Brown Boy’s kid(s).

BUT, for me?

I’m properly convinced here.

Shirley was a dad, ya’ll.

#long and messy post #wrote this out in twenty minutes and i’m certain it’s utterly infested with grammatical errors and typos so i already beg your forgiveness #IF ANYONE would like to take up a counter-argument i am fully sat #shirley blythe #meta #lucy maud montgomery #the blythes are quoted

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fairuzfan · 6 months

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Can you help me break down my family's arguments? It's just that they're on Israel's side

And they say that Palestine deserves what is happening

Their arguments are:

"But Hamas started, taking people hostage, raping women and killing children. Israel is just fighting back. If someone did the same to you I would kill their family."

"But the hospitals on Palestine are Hamas' bases"

"But cutting off energy and telecommunications in Palestine is just to prevent Hamas from communicating"

"But Gaza is a place promised by God to the Israelites, Israel is taking what is rightfully theirs"

"But Hamas was trying to make an exchange between the lives of the hostages and Gaza with Israel and Israel did not accept it because Gaza is theirs, and Hamas should have released the hostages instead of exchanging their lives"

Hello, thanks for asking. I'm going to generalize these arguments a little more just to make it more widely applicable.

"Well Israel is just taking revenge/defending itself"

Well a couple things. Taking revenge is not an actual reason for people to attack other people. Just naturally, it's not a good ideology we should ever live by.

About claims that it's defending itself: Israel is a military powerhouse dropping TONS of bombs, I mean literal TONS. To say that anyone is defending someone with that level of ammunition and pure destruction, is just cruel. No one should experience that even in an equal footing type of war. Shouldn't we strive to protect people? Isn't it right to help others?

Now for your specific case, if they're arguing that they would "kill their family" as revenge, I'm not gonna lie, I think you're going to have to delve into that with them and dismantle that idea by emphasizing revenge is never justified.

You should center the humanity of Palestinians and emphasize that they should never experience such horror in their life.

"The hospitals are Hamas bases"

There is absolutely no evidence provided of this other than Israeli propaganda. I'd show them this video, which is a testimony from a European doctor.

There's also this pamphlet they released saying that they "know that Hamas is safe" and still willingly bombs the people of gaza anyways.

You should center the humanity of Palestinians and emphasize that they should never experience such horror in their life.

"Gaza is promised by God to the Israelites"

Why is it necessary to enforce one's religious beliefs on someone else? Why must the Palestinians experience violence in order for Israel to exist? Besides, if it was "promised" to them, does that mean God is allowing them to kill people indiscriminately? Does God, the most loving Being in the Universe, ever condone such acts of horrific violence on people? I speak as a Muslim that grew up being taught that Judiasm, Christianity, and Islam are quite similar religions, so I doubt that any of these religions would condone such large scale violence.

I'm not an expert of actual religious scripture of different faiths, so I can't provide quotes or anything like that, but I'd argue that God's main purpose in our lives is to remind us to love each other.

You should center the humanity of Palestinians and emphasize that they should never experience such horror in their life.

"Hostages—"

I'm not sure what the argument in your specific case is, but I think any argument having to do with hostages does not make any logical sense. Wouldn't Israel want to protect the hostages? Isn't bombing indiscriminately dangerous for everyone, but especially the Hostages?

But even hostages aside, Palestinians shouldn't have to suffer en masse! They've been sectioned off into the largest open-air prison for 20 years! It's just plain cruel to blame them for the genocide they face when they've been victims for 75+ years!

I'd recommend introducing them to this resource that explains the history of Palestinians from around 1948 to now:

There is also this that has scholarly research for and by Palestinians:

Let me know if any of this is useful. Good luck, and thank you for sending this in.

#palestine #gaza

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angelsworks · 10 months

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Hi, hopefully you are doing well. Can I please request a headcanon of yandere Mikaelsons brothers (separate) with an understanding and sweet obsession? Where despite the reader knows who they actually are, they accept them for who they are and loves/loyal to them no matter what? Thanks a lot

Sweet Obsession Yandere! Mikaelson brothers (seperate) x Willing! Darling

TVD Masterlist -> Here

Type: Headcannon

Summary: What it’s like for each of the Mikaelson brothers to have a willing darling.

Warnings: 18+, mature themes, yandere themes, kidnap, coercive behaviours, stalking, etc

For a darling to be willing I think they’d either need to be blindly naive, have a low self esteem or just not care, or find it incredibly charming.

The blindly naive darling would see everything their yandere did for them as loving, kind and normal. They wouldn’t care that childhood friends don’t call anymore or any guy you talk to disappears.

Or they’d have low self esteem. They’d be surprised that anyone would take an interest in them. Especially when there were girls like Elena Gilbert and Bonnie Bennet in mystic falls.

The just not care darling would do exactly that, just not care. They’d be extremely nonchalant with everything their yandere did. Isolate you? Good you like being alone. Move you to their house? Great, rent was getting expensive.

The final darling would have to be a little crazy themselves. They’d twist everything their yandere did into something romantic. They’d see their lover as their Romeo or their Clyde. Ready to do anything to protect their love.

Klaus Mikaelson

Out of everyone in Mystic Falls, Klaus takes an interest in you.

It surprised you. You weren’t exactly the most stand out person in the town, nor the most pretty by your standards.

He approaches you with his charm dialled up to a million. He flashes you his smile and you feel yourself swooning.

It’s not long before you go on a date with him. It of course being one of the most romantic nights of your life.

Yet you can’t get over your insecurity. This won’t last. He won’t stay.

Once he finds everything out about you he’ll get bored and leave. His Interest will dwindle and you don’t think your heart can handle it.

So one night you invite him over. Tell him of your concerns and propose that you try to tell him everything he wants to know.

That way he can decide sooner if he wants to leave.

The logic makes sense in your own head, yet seems completely ludicrous to Klaus.

How could he not be enamoured with you.

But he plays along. Spending the night asking you as many questions as his heart desires.

He’s not used to someone being so open and honest with him. You’re putting everything on the table and he can’t help but admire you for it.

Your attempt to scare him off only draws him in.

He makes this clear to you with gifts and gestures.

He gives you a intricate promise ring, so you can see that he plans to stick around for a long time.

When he says forever, he means forever.

Slowly but surely any doubts you have about yourself and Klaus’ intentions are washed away.

It gets a to a point where nothing he can do scares you off. Killing, intimidating, hunting. Regardless of who it is, you don’t care.

You’re more than happy to talk him through any of his plans. You become his confidant, his safe haven, his other half.

Regardless of any objections you have, he makes you move in with him. Giving you your own room in his mansion but demanding requesting you sleep with him.

And you do, every night.

You lay still as he buries his nose into your neck and sometimes even his teeth.

Marking you as his for all to see.

Elijah Mikaelson

An uncaring darling wouldn’t really understand or care that what Elijah was doing was wrong.

He’d watch you for a while going about your normal routine. Completely oblivious to the original vampire stalking you.

Maybe you do see him one day, you smile and wave politely. Which makes his heart beat and head swoon.

When he approaches you he can’t control himself. He takes you immediately. To a place isolated from anyone willing to help you. His family home.

While you sleep he plans for any negative reaction you could give him. What he’d do if you rejected him, screamed, tried to fight him.

Imagine his surprise when you wake as if it’s completely normal. You walk from the room and make yourself comfortable on the sofa. Turning on the TV and quickly finding your favourite channel.

Elijah tries to explain the situation, but you show little interest. Little emotion to being kidnapped.

You hum and nod at him as he tells you he’s claimed you as his, he’s a vampire, you are to live with him now.

He even makes up some more outrageous claims to get a rise out of you. Like his plans to drink your blood, claim your body, fill your womb.

Still you don’t react, too engrossed in your show.

Finally you turn to him and ask if he has any snacks

Bewildered he complies and fetches your desired food from the kitchen.

The rest of your relationship carries on the same.

He does what he wished, you stay pliant. Why fight him, when he’s given you nothing to complain about?

Sure you have limited freedom. But the man had private jets at his disposal. One call and you could be jetting off to Paris, Milan, New York. Anywhere you want to go, Elijah has it covered.

Similarly, anything you desire, the man is waiting with his credit card. Money is no issue for him and he’s happy to spend it all on you.

Over time you do grow fond of the vampire. Enjoying his attention that is forever on you. How deep his obsession goes.

You find little to grumble about and plenty to enjoy.

Elijah is more than pleased with your response to him. Enjoying how easy it is to do things with you.

Having you willing is such a pleasure.

Kol Mikaelson

A darling just as crazy as Kol would work.

Any crazy thing Kol would do to prove his love, you’d triple.

It became sort of like a competiton between the two of you. How crazy could you get?

Arguments over nothing would lead to glasses thrown and rough fucking on the nearest surface.

Despite his yandere tendencies, you love each other like they aren’t even there.

Maybe that’s what draws him to you.

Your complete lack of sanity.

It’s perfect actually.

With you he feels truly accepted.

At first you didn’t even realise he was flirting with you. The two of you exchanged snide remarks and quips.

Only much later in your relationship did you start to exchange more loving words.

To be honest with all the insults you were sure Kol hated you.

He was always where you didn’t want him.

At your job, at your school, at your house.

His incessant attention lead to an argument between the two of you, then quite a dramatic kiss.

From then on Kol became a lot more bearable.

To the point you were able to feed into his more murderous tendencies.

Finn Mikaelson

You loved Finn, yandere traits and all.

You loved the fact that he cared about you more than anything else (well next to his family of course)

You loved the fact that you could share all your interests with him. He’d sit, listening intently, hanging off your every word.

For him he loved the fact you would explain the world he’d missed to him. Showing him culture of the last 900 years.

Together you learned about history. Exploring the world together.

From the moment Finn found you he knew he had to have you.

His own little encyclopaedia.

Together you watch all your favourite shows and films. Explaining all the behind the scenes facts you know about them.

Eventually you do probably realise how possessive Finn can be.

But you fail to care when he loves you so.

Treating you as the sun that warms the earth.

Something unrivalled by any lover that’s come before him.

Previous lovers and even friends have critiqued your ability to ramble. Often becoming disinterested in your topics of interest.

So to have this original vampire who has been alive (albeit the majority of time in a box) for 1000 years, to pay attention to you, to listen to you, to love you.

That makes any negative of loving Finn Mikaelson completely worth it.

#angelsworks post #dark #yandere tvd #tvd yandere #klaus mikaelson headcanon #elijah mikaelson headcannon #Kol Mikaelson headcannon #finn mikaelson headcannon #yandere klaus mikaelson #yandere finn mikaelson #yandere elijah mikaelson #yandere kol mikaelson

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forpiratereasons · 11 months

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meeting stede bonnet

a slow meandering through June. first day, first prompt: sunlight

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10

There was a thought Stede had never thought before.

He’d suspected it was there for a long time, honestly—he’d caught it before, here and again, hovering in the corners of his eyes. He’d been very good at looking away. He’d been looking away since the divorce six months ago, or maybe for every day of the twelve-year marriage itself. Or—maybe for a lifetime. Depended on how you looked at it, he supposed.

But now it was here. The day. The day, the day he was going to finally let himself think it.

If I wake up on June the 1st and I know, I’ll really know.

He’d taken two sleeping pills around nine. Didn’t want to stay up waiting for it. Didn’t want to shatter the fragile thought under the pressure.

Stede’s alarm went off as scheduled. Freddie Mercury’s voice belted through the room, big, breaking free.

The sun was already shining. He’d left the curtains open the night before; he’d wanted the light first thing. He’d wanted to wake up already soaked in all that warm, beautiful light, and now here he was.

It was suddenly so easy.

I’m gay, Stede thought.

The next breath shuddered into Stede’s lungs, rough and unexpected, like he’d never taken a breath before in his life. He knew.

He’d always known.

As a boy, picking flowers, running from kids who’d already known there was something different in him—as a teenager, smoking his first cigarette, avoiding the gaze of the girl who’d lit it for him—as a man, holding Mary’s hand in their wedding bed and swallowing against the crush in his ribs that told him every reason he ought to love her, like he could force the logic of her into the heart hiding underneath—he’d known.

I’m gay, Stede thought again.

He had sort of thought he might feel different. Or might—be different, somehow. But no, not really: he got up on the same side of the bed he’d always slept on. Showered the way he’d always showered, dressed the way he’d always dressed. Fixed his hair the way he’d always fixed his hair. Drank the protein shake for breakfast he’d always drunk.

He was still himself. He’d always been.

June the 1st, he repeated to himself, standing in the kitchen, tapping his fingers on a little brown paper package that had come from Etsy three days ago. Bit like a birthday, maybe. The start of something new.

One manicured fingernail slipped under the tape on the package. The sun was in Stede’s eyes as he whittled along the length of the flap, undoing the tape bit by bit. Cloudless day. The sunlight stung.

The contents of the package clinked on the granite when it fell out.

Stede counted to three. Then he counted to ten. Then he counted to fifty, and finally he counted to a hundred and thought, come on, then. You’re gay. Be gay about it.

He looked down. On the worktop was a small enamel rainbow pin.

Just a pin. Gold backing. He’d spent ages looking for one that matched Gilbert Baker’s original flag, with the pink and the aqua. A progress Pride pin was coming too, but for this day, for the first day, he’d wanted the first flag.

For something so tiny, it carried so, so much.

It took a minute to undo the backing with trembling fingers. Punching the pin through the fine fabric of his shirt—white, which he never wore, but he wanted the pin to really stand out—felt like releasing something inside himself that had been building for years and years. Like lancing a wound. Like the first sharp, hot moment of healing.

“All right,” he said out loud, forcing himself to pass the mirror in the hall without stopping to look, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. His heart was pounding under the weight of the pin; his hand was sweating where it’d settled on the handle of his front door.

It was a fifteen minute walk from here to the bookshop on the wharf. Stede was going to walk it, and open the shop, and wear the pin. He was going to let people see.

Just a fifteen minute walk from here to the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath.

He stepped out into the light.

#ofmd pride bingo #darcy writes pirates #ofmd #gentlebeard

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philtatosbuck · 10 months

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it’s so gross to me how c*roline stans have been running with this narrative that Elena is a horrible friend to Caroline and attacking her for getting involved with Damon after he r*ped Caroline while giving Stefan a free pass when Damon is literally Elena’s abuser too, and Elena was horrified and outraged by what Damon did to Caroline and did everything she could to protect Caroline when Elena was literally a teenage girl unfamiliar with the supernatural world being preyed on by two 100+ vampires and oh yeah DAMON WAS ELENA’S ABUSER TOO like literally what was elena supposed to do Damon was constantly inserting himself into her life and every time she’d reject him he’d do something like kill her brother like she had literally no power against him. Stefan was the one who could have done something about Damon and constantly chose not to but this gets completely ignored by fandom. also funny how the “elena is the worst” crowd had nothing to say about Caroline sleeping with the guy who killed Tyler’s mom (except for the people attacking TYLER for being upset lmao)

Listen, I'm 80% right there with you. You've hooked me. You're gonna get a whole essay out of me.

There are five (major) issues to tackle here. Let's start with the first one, which should be the most simple to understand.

Damon's Ongoing Assault Issue.

We all saw what Damon did. We all agree that him compelling Caroline removed her ability to consent to it. We are all aware of that. Here's the thing. In character, no one ever addresses more than the feeding and manipulation. Not even Caroline herself. We, as the audience, know the issue. But the issue presented in character is never as clear cut as "Damon raped Caroline, and she rightfully hates him for it." They never go there, and we know why. This also unfortunately means that Caroline never once says that's the reason she hates Damon so much. We're given the "he manipulated me, he fed off of me without my consent" which is still bad, but it's nothing he didn't do to anyone else. He killed Alaric multiple times. He killed Jeremy. He threatened and attacked Bonnie. He's killed Vicki and Mason and everyone else, and this is after what he did to Caroline. If he gets away with all of that, why wouldn't they forgive or tolerate him for something as 'natural' as feeding? By not acknowledging that his compulsion removed Caroline's consent, they never have to acknowledge that what he did was rape. And that means they never have to say Damon did anything worse to Caroline than he did to anyone else. Specifically, we also never see anyone call out the fact Damon compels Andie to be okay with what he is and to let him feed off of her while in a relationship with her as well. Alaric in particular never calls this out despite the fact he's an adult who should know better than the teenagers how wrong it is, because by that point, they've all reached a place where they're damn near complacent in what Damon does. But anyway, without them outright saying what he did and calling it what he is, Caroline seems very... obnoxious with her dislike for him, while everyone else has gotten over it. It kind of leads us into the next one.

The Stefan Issue.

You're completely correct. Stefan should have been the one getting Damon away. Both Elena and Stefan knew what Damon was doing to Caroline, and Elena demanded he deal with it. And he did. To do that, he used Caroline as a way to subdue Damon. While people often talk about how Stefan took Caroline under his wing, it wasn't before he repeatedly used her. Even after that, he uses her when it comes to Klaus and to Tyler. But focusing on the Damon subject, Caroline never once acknowledges that Stefan knew (which she knows) what Damon was doing to some extent or holds him responsible for it, or snarks at him about Damon as much as she does Elena. She all but outright absolves him of any wrongdoing as soon as he becomes her mentor. You see it in the way she personally roots for Stefan whenever it comes to the damned triangle, her own desire to prop him up overriding any and everything. Even after Stefan hurt Elena herself, she was still very aggressively team Stefan. This is partially because she's basically Julie Plec's self insert, and partially because she sees Stefan as the good brother, despite the fact he above all is the one who primarily excused and defended him during that time. People will not admit that Stefan is complacent in Damon's actions because they're obsessed with a 'good brother, bad brother' dynamic. On the flip side, people who do acknowledge Stefan's part of it claim Damon is better because he "owns up to what he is". The truth of the matter is that they're both assholes.

The Elena Of It All.

Like you said, Elena was rightfully disgusted and terrified of what Damon did to Caroline, and fucking immediately told Stefan to deal with that shit. For a bit after that, she (and Bonnie) were doing their best to keep Damon away from Caroline. Here's where the issue lies. Like I said before, we, the audience, know everything, right? Did we ever see a scene where Caroline tells her exactly what happened with Damon? This is part of the issue I mentioned with 'Caroline never outright says it'. All Elena has to go on is bruises and bitemarks. And she is mad about that, mad about the fact Damon fed on her without her consent, but that's all she thinks happened. She does not know Damon is her rapist. And yes, that is enough reason for Elena to hate him and be mad at him, but look at all the things I mentioned above. What did he do to Caroline that he hasn't done to others who, frankly, mean more to Elena? As bad as it is to say it, as far as Elena knows, there's nothing special about what Damon did to Caroline.

Part two of the Elena issue is that while you're right, while Damon was her abuser too, it gets wonky because of the sire bond and because of her eventual feelings for him. At some point in season one, Caroline is asking for the necklace back, and Elena goes "why? so you can give it back to Damon?" which is half a joke, half not. So already, Elena is joking about the situation. Which, Caroline doesn't remember everything. Elena knows that. Look, you can essentially take it one of two ways. One, Elena's trying to make shit seem normal because they haven't told Caroline about the supernatural, while feeling out why she wants it back. Two, she's being cruel. It honestly depends on how you view her character this early on. I'm not gonna debate about that, whatever.

Anyway, later on, in season whatever the hell, Damon jokes "have fun with blondie, I know I did" and Elena laughs. That? Was bad. Even without knowing the full extent of what he did, it was a fucked up thing to laugh at. I love Elena, and it was fucked up. You'll never see me denying that shit. Damon even fucking teaches her to hunt in the same way he picked Caroline out and it isn't called out, in canon.

Primarily, people's issue with Elena, is that it seems like she co-signs all of Damon's bullshit from even before they were together because she gets with him. For them, it's like Elena is immediately acknowledging and approving of everything Damon did because they're in a relationship. Some people acknowledge Stefan and Alaric do this as well. Some don't. Oh well.

I don't ship delena, or stelena. I think Elena and Damon's dynamic was terrible. I think her character changed when she got with him, for the worse. I openly admit all that, and you can take it as I'm biased if you want to. I personally don't think two people getting together means they cosign each other's bullshit, but whatever.

But the main issue lies in season one. They believe Elena should have done something to stop Damon from what he did to Caroline. What, exactly? I don't know. Damon was trying to compel Elena to fucking kiss him in season one and she smacked him immediately. She wanted him dead for what he did to Caroline. She said as much. I couldn't tell you what else people wanted her to do. By the time she had some kind of power against him, he had done bigger and worse things and yet he was one of their only allies with knowledge of the supernatural so they needed him. So, bluntly, Caroline's thing got pushed to the way side. One thing I see people mention is that Elena stopped Bonnie from personally killing Damon when they found out Caroline got turned and you can make your own opinions about that but Damon did not do that. Katherine did. He did deserve to die, but Elena didn't want Bonnie to be the one to do it. Opinions and reasons vary, but she also didn't let Damon kill Caroline (by directly putting herself in harm's way to protect her), so... whatever you want to think about that, think it, do it, bop it, I don't care.

My opinion on Elena being a horrible friend to Caroline is that she's not. At the end of the day, Elena is probably one of the people who treated Caroline best, if you step back and look at the whole thing from an objective point of view. People just do not do that.

I do think there's a certain point where "Elena couldn't do anything" stops being entirely true, but it's long after what happened to Caroline. And it's nothing that Caroline herself couldn't do after she became a vampire (much sooner than Elena did).

The Caroline-Klaus Issue.

Preaching to the choir, dude. People will go on all day saying how dating your friend's abuser is wrong (fair) and then say Caroline is better because she Just fucked Klaus (despite the fact they WANTED them to be in a long term relationship anyway). I, personally, don't see how the fuck that's better. I also don't see a point in "morality" arguments for this fandom, but let's just write it out. Fucking the guy who murdered your boyfriend's mom and his friends is better than dating a guy who manipulated your friend into doing his bidding and feeding on her (which as is as much as Elena knows)? Debatable.

People will often excuse this as "Tyler chose revenge over her" as if Klaus did not murder his mother and the fellow hybrids. If the roles were reversed and Liz had been murdered, there'd be a different talk. But hey.

Finally,

The Caroline Issue.

Caroline not only serves as Julie's self insert, but she's the self insert for a lot of this damn fandom. You see it in fics, where they either change her personality so she's more like Elena or Bonnie, and Elena/Bonnie is the friend who can't keep their mouth shut or is always commenting on their friends' lives or spilling secrets.

The Tyler thing? Caroline's a girlboss for telling Tyler to get over it! after she slept with his mother's murderer. But Elena's a terrible friend and "trying to make it all about her" when she tries to sympathize with Caroline over Liz's death and turning her humanity off. Caroline's a queen when she slutshames Katherine and Rebekah and literally any female character she doesn't like who she speaks about for more than two seconds, but when Elena throws it back in her face that Caroline INTENDED to sleep with Damon before finding out he was a vampire (which she did. It's why he got invited into her house), she's just so awful. This, in addition to the fact that Elena was under a sirebond, and Caroline is just regularly fucking like that.

You see my point. Anyway, make no mistake, what Damon did is an issue, but it's only as big of an issue in fandom because Caroline is the golden girl to them. They completely ignore the fact Elena has no full knowledge about what went down. They ignore that Stefan or Alaric should have been taking charge against Damon. They ignore that Caroline never so much as utters a peep about exactly why she hates Damon besides him being a "manwhore". Anything they can use to villainize anyone, but especially Elena, where Caroline is concerned? They will. Facts be damned.

#anti caroline forbes #anti klaroline #uhh #elena gilbert #i don't think this is anti her but idk #anti damon salvatore #anti delena #long story short. people hate elena and love caroline so logic doesn't exist there #people also just hate main characters in general #i personally don't fucking like caroline so :]#think that's it #anonymous

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 5 months

Text

Today, November 18th, 1975 - Queen Story!

Bristol, UK, Colston Hall (two night)

'A Night At The Opera Tour'

This article chronicles the second show in Bristol.

🔸Sounds, November 29, 1975

Queen triumphant

Report by Jonh Ingham, pictures by Kate Simon

QUEEN ARE the type of group that make a man want to abandon rock writing. They pose questions and never provide answers. They exist in their own space-time continuum, visible and audible but keeping their secrets to themselves.

On the surface they couldn't be a nicer bunch of people, but they carry English reticence to an epitome. It isn't, as Geoff Barton said two weeks ago, that they're boring, it's just that they're reserved. Or in writer parlance, they don't automatically provide colourful copy. All my instincts as a writer tell me that there is a great story in that band, but after two nights with them I'm hardly any the wiser.

Skin tight

That their insularity has a lot to do with them being one of the most amazing heavy-metal and/or rock bands in Britain - with all the signs that they'll end up monsters on the order of Zep - is fairly obvious, but just how much bearing it has on the matter is hard to say. The enigmas they might pose mightn't even have answers.

Is there any logical reason why they present an image and persona straight out of the Beatles school of interlocking chemistry?

John is reserved, almost nonchalant on stage, as if it's all in a small, personal joke. When asked how he saw himself within the framework of the band he replied, with a small smile, "I'm the bassist".

Roger is his opposite, the cheeky sidekick in a Clint Eastwood movie, and attracting a lot of cheesecake attention in America and Japan.

Freddie is an original - one of the most dynamic singers to tread the boards in quite a few years. His attraction is obvious.

Brian is perhaps the biggest enigma of all. What is this seemingly frail, gaunt astronomer doing on that stage, striding purposefully and blasting diamond-hard rock? They're all equally strong personalities - like the Beatles there's no one major focal point. Ask four fans who their dream Queen is and you'll get four different answers.

Queen have been busy lads these past few months. Having disassociated themselves from their former management and joined with John Reid, the fourth album was seen to. Reid decided that a tight schedule wouldn't cause them undue harm, and figured on two months to record before embarking on this current tour.

Only Queen are driven to better each previous album - which at this stage of the game is obviously producing some excellent results - and 'A Night At The Opera' turned into a saga - culminating in 36-hour mixing sessions in an effort to allow at least a few days for rehearsal. In the end they managed three and a half days at Elstree with four hours off to videotape the promotional film for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.

Their first few dates had not been without errors and the quartet were still not feeling totally comfortable their second night in Bristol, fourth night of the tour. You'd never know it, though.

Like all other aspects of the group, the stage is sophisticated. A black scrim provides a backdrop bounded by a proscenium of lights both front and rear. At each side the p.a. rises like a mutant marriage of Mammon and Robby the Robot. Amp power is readily evident but the most extraordinary is Brian May's subtle set up: nine Vox boxes stepping back in rows of three. The only packing crate visible is holding a tray of drinks, and you may rest assured that no roadie will rush, crawl or lurk across the stage while the show is in progress unless it's to rescue Freddie's mike from the clawing crowd.

As the auditorium darkens the sound of an orchestra tuning up is heard over the p.a. The conductor taps his baton on the music stand and a slightly effete voice welcomes the audience to A Night At The Opera. The Gilbert & Sullivan portion of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' follows, a brief glimpse of Freddie is allowed, and then in a blast of flares and white smoke the blitzkrieg begins.

Roger is barely visible behind his kit, just his eyes and tousled locks. John is wearing a white suit and playing the-man-who-must-stand-still-or-it-will-all-blow-away. Brian is slightly medieval in his green and white Zandra Rhodes top, while Freddie is...

Around his ankles his satin white pants flare like wings - fleet footed Hermes. Everything north of the knee is skin tight - tighter than skin tight - with a zip-up front open to AA rating. But further south, definitely in X territory, lurks a bulge not unlike the Sunday Telegraph.

There have been sex objects and sex bombs, superstar potency and the arrogant presentation of this all-important area, but never has a man's weaponry been so flagrantly showcased. Fred could jump up on the drum stand and shake his cute arse, leap about and perform all manner of amazing acrobatics, but there it was, this rope in repose, barely leashed tumescence, the Queen's sceptre. Oh to be that hot costume, writhing across the mighty Fred!

Phallic

Freddie is not pretty in the conventional sense of the word; like Mick Jagger of '64, he is his own convention. Also like the Jagger of the time, his stage persona and action is unlike anything else. Although it borrows - like most of the group's plagiarisms - slightly from Zeppelin, in tandem with Freddie's supreme assurance and belief in himself - he always refers to himself as a star - it explodes into something that is a constant delight to watch.

He reacts to his audience almost like an over-emotional actress - Gloria Swanson, say, or perhaps Holly Woodlawn playing Bette Davis. At the climax of the second night in Bristol he paused at the top of the drum stand, looked back over the crowd and with complete, heartfelt emotion placed his delicate fingers to lips and blew a kiss. Any person who can consume themselves so completely in such a clichéd showbiz contrivance deserves to be called a star.

Freddie's real talent, though, is with his mike stand. No Rod Stewart mike stand callisthenics here, just a shortee stick that doubles as a cock, machine gun, ambiguous phallic symbol, and for a fleeting moment an imaginary guitar. He has a neat trick of standing quite still in particularly frantic moments and holding the stand vertically from his crotch up, draw a fragile finger along its length, ever closer to the taunting eyes that survey his audience.

Their show contains lots of bombs and smoke, lots of lights, lots of noise. They fulfil the function of supremely good heavy metal - i.e. you don't get a second to think about what's going on. When they do let up for a few minutes, it's only so you can focus in on the bright blue electric charge crackling between your ears.

Bulldozer

Dominating the sound is Roger's drumming, a bulldozer echo that bounces like an elastic membrane, meshing with your solar plexus so that your body pulses in synch with the thunder. Tuned into that, everything else is just supremely nice icing.

For three days rehearsal, after eight months off the road Bristol was extremely impressive. In speculative mood I quizzed people on how long they thought it would take to headline Madison Square Garden. I was thought a radical at a year and a half. John Reid smilingly assured me it would take a year.

That Queen should end up with John Reid is an entirely logical proceeding. Everything about Queen demands that the world eventually kowtows at their feet in complete acquiescence - so big that bodyguards have to accompany them at every step. Well, no - they found that an annoyance in Japan, but, you know, huge.

Such status demands a Reid or a Peter Grant, and whatever the causes for their leaving Jack Nelson and Trident, an elegant group like Queen is going to look for a man with class. Reid found the idea of managing a group interesting, and having to deal with four strong personalities a challenge. He only concerns himself with their business and ensuring that the year ahead is mapped out. In January they begin a jaunt through the Orient, Australia and America, by which time it's March and they begin preparations for the next album.

Reid's prediction of a year was proven highly credible the next evening in Cardiff. The band had still not paused from the rush up to the tour and spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping - no doubt a factor in their near recumbent profile. Also, unlike most groups, they were keeping their dissatisfaction with the show to themselves.

They stopped off at Harlech TV on the way to see a cassette of the video for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. The general consensus was quite good for four hours, with much laughter during the operetta. Brian finds film of the group educational - the first time he saw himself was a Mike Mansfield opus for 'Keep Yourself Alive' - "It was 'All right fellows, give it everything you've got but don't move off that spot.' It was terrible." You don't like Mansfield, eh? "Oh, I hate him - we all do... I was horrified when I saw it - I couldn't believe we looked that bad. I looked very static - seeing myself has taught me a lot about stage movement. Some of the things I do are planned for effect, but it's mostly just feeling the audience and communicating that back to them."

Arriving at the motel - several miles out of town - Freddie immediately fell asleep, John held court of a sort, joined later by Brian, while Roger went jogging, a daily event when touring. Tuning in to rock via Bill Haley and Tommy Steele, he became a drummer because he was better at it than guitar. All through school he was in bands; he only went to dental school out of "middle class conditioning, and it was a good way to stay in London without having to work". His mother thought it a bit strange when he opted for a career as a rock star, but she doesn't worry too much now.

The concert starts in much the same manner as the previous night, but there are signs that tonight is work, with posing an afterthought. The endings to most of their songs are magnificent and majestic, especially 'Flick Of The Wrist' and the rapid harmonies of 'Bad Boy Leroy Brown'

➡️ keep reading on http://jonh-ingham.blogspot.com/2007/02/queen-riot-at-opera.html?m=1

#freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #1975 #queen invite you to a night at the opera #a night at tbe opera album #a night at the opera tour #bristol

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voidpetrova · 8 months

Text

escape — jeremy gilbert x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, cheating, alcohol consumption, nicotine consumption, sex, degradation, male body worship — angst, smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you were bad news, but so was he. you destroyed everything in each other's paths just to have one another

met you in a bad place

thought you were an escape

now i can't escape your grasp

i don't know how long this escape will last

✧.*

a veil of cigarette smoke hung lazily in the air, casting a soft haze over the scene. the flickering light from the bedside lamp created a dance of shadows on the walls, as the faint hum of the city outside served as the backdrop to an illicit rendezvous. you reclined against the plush headboard, a thin wisp of smoke curling from the cigarette held between your fingers. the ember at the tip glowed like a secret, casting fleeting glimmers across your face.

jeremy stood by the window, the glow from the city lights outside outlining his figure, casting his silhouette into stark relief. his gaze was transfixed on you, his dark eyes betraying a mixture of intrigue and admiration, as if drawn in by the enigmatic aura you exuded. the dance of the smoke seemed to echo the dance of emotions within the room — a delicate balance between desire and uncertainty.

with a calculated nonchalance, you took a slow drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing brighter before dimming again. the tendrils of smoke you exhaled intertwined with the wisps of emotion that hung in the air, creating an intoxicating blend of the forbidden. jeremy's gaze remained locked on you, the tension between you both palpable, as if the room itself held its breath, waiting for the next move in this intricate game.

as the seconds ticked away, the silence was punctuated only by the soft sizzle of the ember and the distant city sounds filtering through the window. with every inhale, you seemed to draw the secrets of the night into your lungs, the allure of the moment hanging heavy like a veil over the choices that had led you both here. and in the midst of it all, jeremy's admiration grew, a silent testament to the allure of the forbidden and the complexities of the heart.

in a daring move that seemed to hang on the edge of the precipice between desire and audacity, jeremy stepped closer. with a mixture of hesitation and determination, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing the back of your hand that held the cigarette. his eyes never left yours, an unspoken question hanging between you both, a question that only the night could answer.

qs if guided by an invisible force, you leaned forward slightly, allowing the ember to come dangerously close to your lips. the proximity was tantalizing, the heat of the cigarette's tip mingling with the warmth of your breath. and then, in a breathless instant, his lips met yours as he inhaled deeply, drawing the smoke into his own lungs.

time seemed to suspend as your mouths were connected not just by the whispered promise of a shared secret, but by the tendrils of smoke that now flowed between you. the cigarette became a conduit for the unspoken words that had lingered in the air, mingling with the heady scent of desire. the taste of tobacco mixed with the taste of the forbidden, and the line between fact and fiction blurred in the haze of the moment.

as the cigarette's ember dimmed, jeremy pulled back slightly, his gaze still locked onto yours. a subtle smile played at the corners of his mouth, a mixture of exhilaration and vulnerability shining in his eyes. In that unspoken exchange, a new layer had been added to your complicated connection, a connection that defied logic and expectation.

a wry smile danced across your lips as you extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray, the soft sizzle of its demise a fitting soundtrack to the secret you both shared. jeremy's question hung in the air like a delicate thread, connecting your hidden world to the reality waiting just beyond the hotel room's walls.

“how long do you have before tyler notices you're gone?” his voice held a note of curiosity, a reflection of the complications that had brought you both together under the shroud of night.

you met his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of defiance and something more tender. “told him i'd be at my sister's tonight,” you replied, your tone laced with a touch of irony. it was a casual lie, woven into the fabric of the deceit that concealed your shared rendezvous, a lie that held the promise of stolen moments and forbidden connections.

jeremy's lips curled into a rueful smile, a silent acknowledgment of the intricate web of deceit that had become your refuge. in a world where truth and lies entwined, your connection with him had blossomed amidst the shadows, a delicate flower that defied the circumstances that sought to stifle it.

“what'd you tell anna?” you returned the question, running a hand through your soft locks of hair. he shrugged, a small smirk playing on his face. “she's out of town tonight.”

the answer made you, although it pained you to admit, erratic. “so,” you began, turning to face your lover with a smirk of your own. “that means we've got the whole night, yeah?” jeremy liked the idea—for the first time in a while, you had the whole night to yourselves. not an hour or two, but an entire night. he walked towards you, his footsteps slow. “i think that's exactly what it means.”

his fingers, those slender extensions of the hand, possessing an exquisite grace in their simplicity, traced your cheek, grazing it every so lightly. his touch, soft, as light as a feather's caress, left a trail of sensation that lingered long after contact. you felt powerless under his touch, his dark eyes boring into yours with a possessiveness they carried with you only. not anna, not bonnie—just you. although you were the one feeling powerless, he was the one without power. he was the one who relied on you, who would leave anna in a heartbeat just for you. your constant rendezvous in the same hotel room every night was never enough. he wanted you to leave tyler, but he knew it'd never happen.

“you're perfect, you know that?” he murmured, fingers dropping to the bottom of your chin as he tilted it up, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “the only thing that'd make you more perfect, is if you were mine.”

his words made you smile. you wrapped your small hands around his big one, sliding it off your chin as you held it in front of you. you toyed with his long fingers, playing with them as you spoke. “i want it as much as you do, jer,” you admitted, wrapping a hand around his index finger as you brought it up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss on the tip. “but we know it isn't gonna happen.”

“i know, sweetheart,” he said, his tone soft as he retracted his hand from your lips, fingers gently tucking the loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “the hybrid curse, all of that. i just wish we could be together.”

in the midst of the unspoken tension, your heart raced as you felt the magnetic pull between you and jeremy intensify. with a swift and daring movement, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender yet urgent kiss. it was a kiss that held both a plea and a promise, a silent request for understanding and a whispered vow of passion.

as your lips met, time seemed to slow, the world outside the hotel room fading into obscurity. the taste of the forbidden lingered in the air, mingling with the taste of desire as your lips moved against his. the kiss deepened, a symphony of emotions conveyed through the gentle pressure of your mouths finding harmony in the midst of chaos.

the dance of your tongues mirrored the intricate dance of your feelings, each movement a step toward unraveling the mysteries that had brought you to this moment. his hands found their place on your waist, drawing you closer as the kiss deepened, becoming a silent conversation that spoke of longing, affection, and the unspoken plans you'd dared to weave.

the shadows in the room seemed to embrace your connection, offering a sanctuary where the complexities of the heart could be explored without fear. the fingers that had once held a cigarette now found new purpose, tracing delicate patterns along the curve of his jawline, a touch that whispered promises too profound for words.

as the kiss continued, the world outside the hotel room remained distant, eclipsed by the intensity of the emotions that surged between you. the sensation of his lips against yours was both intoxicating and grounding, a reminder that within the tapestry of secrets and choices, this connection was a thread that held meaning beyond measure. qnd in the depths of that kiss, in the quiet surrender to desire, you found a respite from the burdens of reality, if only for a stolen moment in time.

as the kiss deepened, your fingers left a trail of warmth along jeremy's jawline, then ventured down to rest on his arms. your touch traveled with a purpose, your fingertips tracing the contours of his biceps, feeling the firmness of the muscle beneath his skin. it was a silent exploration, a tactile appreciation of the strength he possessed, both physically and emotionally. “your arms,” your voice was a faint whisper as jeremy tensed under your touch, goosebumps littering his skin. “they're so big, jer.”

you couldn't help but admire the way his biceps flexed under your touch, a testament to his determination and resilience. the flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a gentle glow on his skin, emphasizing the play of shadows and highlights that danced across his muscles. it was a sight that invoked both desire and reverence, a reminder of the complexities that made up the person before you.

in the midst of the kiss, your lips moved in sync with his, a rhythm that seemed to echo the beating of your hearts. yet, even as your connection deepened, the awareness of the choices that loomed over you both remained. the hotel room, heavy with secrets and desires, held its own kind of truth—one that existed within the confines of this stolen sanctuary.

“i don't care about tyler,” jeremy began, his hands hastily working to peel off the white wife beater he had on. “you're my girl, my pretty girl.” his voice was like a velvety purr next to your ear, his tone awakening lust in your core, the way it did every night.

your fingers, still lingering on jeremy's arms, seemed to have a mind of their own as they ventured further, tracing a path down his biceps to his forearms before gliding across his chest. your touch was delicate yet purposeful, your fingertips following the contours of his muscles with a reverence that bordered on worship.

as your fingers brushed over his chest, you felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. his skin was warm and inviting, a canvas that told a story of strength and vulnerability interwoven. your gaze met his, your eyes locked in a silent understanding of the unspoken desires that had brought you both to this point.

“i can't help but admire you,” you whispered, your voice laced with a mixture of admiration and longing. you left a trail of kisses down his stomach, stopping to plant kitten licks on his hardening nipples, soft grunts passing his lips. “the way your strength is etched into every inch of you.”

jeremy's lips curved into a shy smile, his cheeks flushing slightly under your gaze. “i could say the same about you,” he replied, his voice barely more than a breath. his fingers found their way to your waist, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. your touch continued its exploration, venturing lower to the contours of his abdomen, your fingers tracing the lines that led down to his waist. the muscles beneath your touch were taut and defined, a testament to his dedication and the battles he'd fought—both physical and emotional.

“does she make you feel this good?” you voice was just above a whisper as you continued to leave kisses down his happy trail, admiring how toned his stomach was. soft groans passed his lips as you continued, untying his hem to tug his sweatpants down. he shook his head, his answer honest. “fuck, no,” he breathed out, exasperated because of the amount of teasing. “nobody compares to you.”

that's what you liked to hear, his words of encouragement casting a smile on your face. when you pulled his sweatpants down, you were surprised to see that he had gone commando, his cock springing up, nearly slapping you in the face. he hissed at the feeling, eyes scanning the way your boobs fell out of your tank top. “when'd you get so big, little gilbert?” you couldn't help but tease him with a smile, taking his hard dick into your hand as you placed a kiss to the wet, slippery tip.

“when'd you start being such a fucking tease?” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, peppering small kisses down his shaft as the noises filled your ears. “i'm enjoying myself,” you murmured in response. you swirled your tongue around the head of his dick, the wet muscle wrapping itself around it before digging into his slit.

“g-get off,” he pleaded, fingers pulling at your hair. you looked up at him once more, releasing him with a wet pop of the skin. “i can't cum like this, gotta be inside you.” you couldn't help but smile at his request as you removed yourself from his cock completely. he watched you carefully, trying to catch his breath whilst you pulled your top over your head, leaving your torso bare and on display.

“so fucking perfect,” jeremy whispered as you crawled back into your original position. your tits hovered over his face, his tongue darting out to engulf them entirely in his mouth. “he shouldn't get to touch you like this.” you moaned as he suckled on your boobs, hands sliding down your waist and hips as he tugged your shorts down, happy to discover that you had gone commando, too. he groaned at the pleasant discovery.

you felt your wetness growing, your now bare cunt rubbing against his bare dick, sparks of electricity flying and sending shockwaves down your spine. it felt so good, so sinfully amazing. “you're so hard, jer, fuck,” you swore under your breath. he removed his lips from your tits, only for a second, just to adjust your position. “look at you,” he whispered, your legs now spread, folded, feet on his hips. “you're so soaked, sweetheart.”

it was as if all your prayers had been answered when you felt him slip the tip of his cock into you, an overwhelming feeling of nirvana coursing through your veins. you had never gotten used to his size—you would never get used to his size. he was so incredibly hung, always left you with a bruised cervix. the minute he sunk his cock into you, you both moaned. he was overwhelmed by the feeling of your tight walls gripping every inch of his dick, squeezing with such force that he was encouraged to cum right then and there.

“look at you, taking me so well,” he praised you, his huge, calloused hands gripping your thighs, caressing the soft flesh. “you like that, pretty girl?” you nodded furiously as he began to thrust, his movements slow and gentle, but deep and calculated. every seemingly slow thrust was still deep enough to slam into your insides, your cunt wrapping around him and refusing to let go. “i like it, jer. it's too good.”

you were like a drug to him, and he could never get enough of you. you had met each other while in bad places, thinking of each other as distractions. as mistakes. but now? now, you couldn't escape each other.

“does he ever fuck you this good?” his tone was demeaning, but he expected an honest answer. his huge hands held your hips down tightly, as he thrusted his own upwards, slamming his cock into you roughly, balls slapping your clit as you cried his name out. whoever had been trying to sleep in the hotel, spent the following hours restless. all you could do was moan his name, it's all you had been dumbed down to. “no, jer,” you admitted truthfully, holding back your tears of pleasure as he hammered his cock into your tight pussy. “there's no one like you.”

he couldn't bite his cocky smile back, your words only encouraging him to fuck you hard. even harder. he wanted to break you. “be honest with me baby,” he murmured, his tone almost mocking. “you think about me while he's fucking you, huh? he bigger than me? do you moan his name the way you do mine?”

his tone was dripping with a rich possessiveness that you had never encountered before, his knuckles whitening as they harshly groped your thighs. his pace was animalistic, his tempo fast as you cried, hands resting on his strong chest. “i think about you, jer. he doesn't compare to you,” you trembled from the overstimulation as you spoke. “close my eyes and think about you while he's fucking me.” he hated knowing that tyler was touching you the way he was. he wanted you all to himself.

when your orgasms washed over you, you both came at the same time. jeremy groaned loudly, his big dick spurting out ropes of cum into your warm, wet cunt. you were overwhelmed, vision blackening before you had fallen onto his chest. it only took you a minute to get dressed—in a second, he had his bare arms around your naked body. he pulled you in close, inhaling the scent of your hair as the smell of sex filled the room. your eyes fluttered shut as you tried calming down, face buried in the crook of his neck as he held you, in a protective way. in a way you had never felt before.

he held you like he could lose you at any second.

the transition from lingering touches to raw vulnerability was seamless, as if the air itself had grown heavy with the weight of unspoken words. your gazes met, and it was as if everything you'd felt for each other was bared in that moment, unfiltered and undeniable.

breaking the silence that had enveloped you both, jeremy's voice emerged, a whisper that held the weight of a dream and a plea. “what if we ran away together? started a new life, away from all of this— just you and me,” he suggested, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of hope.

a mix of emotions surged within you, a tidal wave of conflicting desires. his arms around you felt like home, his presence a sanctuary in a world that had grown complicated and uncertain. his confession followed, spoken with a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your heart. “i love you, more than i've ever loved anyone. i want to be with you, no matter what it takes.”

your heart ached as you gazed into his eyes, the truth of his words a beacon of temptation that threatened to pull you under. the confession lingered in the air, a truth you'd both denied and embraced in your own ways. and yet, even as his words held you in their grip, you knew what needed to be said.

“i love you too, jeremy,” you whispered, your voice laden with emotion. “but we can't be together. you belong with anna, and i belong with tyler.”

his hold tightened around you, his fingers pressing into your skin as if he could anchor you to this moment. “but what if we could be happy? what if we could start over?”

tears welled in your eyes, the conflict within you visible in your gaze. with a final, lingering kiss, you pulled away, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “i wish you all the happiness in the world, jeremy. but sometimes, the right thing to do is the hardest thing.”

and with that, you turned away, leaving the hotel room behind as you walked out into the world outside, the echoes of your shared moments haunting your steps. it was a choice that carried the weight of sacrifice, a sacrifice that would forever remain hidden within the shadows of a stolen night.

he held you like he could lose you at any second. and, he did.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #the originals #legacies #jeremy gilbert angst #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert x reader smut #smut #x reader

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shatcey · 2 months

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START PAGE

Me myself can no longer find my posts when I need it, so I decided to combine them in some order for future reference.

I don't know Japanese, so I don't do translations. I can write, but I don't know English enough to try to write something more significant than regular posts. So I'm just giving some retellings and summaries, expressing my love and frustration… but mostly I'm just making jokes.

Ikemen Prince

Ikemen Vampire

Ikemen Villains (JP)

Ikemen Villains (EN)

Ikemen Sengoku

Ikemen Genjiden JP

Ikemen Revolution (archive)

Other games

Midnight Cinderella

23/01 (Leo and Alyn)

Sid (so familiar) Sid (part 2)

Byron (love at first sight)

Albert (so cute) Albert (Benjamin)

Love and DeepSpace (archive)

VA jp (Zayne) VA kr (Xavier) VA kr (Rafayel) VA kr (Caleb)

birthday Xavier (heart rate) Zayne loves me

Mystic Messenger and Ssum

Ray April Fool's DLC Seven

Comparison games

Wolfs Pets My heart on 11/11/23 Aggressively defensive

Faces of the games Birthday presents Familiar backgrounds

Sirius and Ibuki My fav smiles The same VA (how could it be?)

Purple eyes Villain's logic Drama Princess

...and grumbling

bad written story (Faust) time zones No luck (cards)

That's just not fair (Jude)

...and my scribblings

Alternative prologue IkeVamp: Prologue Picture

Bread

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celiciaa · 7 months

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GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

SWEET.

Together with the prince.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

MINORS DNI.

Emma: I want my big brother to love me!

The little rabbit's cheeks turned slightly red and her smile widened as she declared innocently.

(No, no…she’s just a child.)

Gilbert: Are you referring to another big brother?

Emma: Yeah.

Gilbert: Does that brother have anything to do with what happened earlier?

Emma: He is.

(No way, Emma's first love….)

There was only one thing in mind.

Gilbert: I understand. You’re talking about big brother Akatsuki, right?

The owner of the bookstore where Emma works has known her since she was a child.

At around this age, Emma should know.

Emma: No.

(I was wrong.)

Emma: But I heard it from big brother Akatsuki.

Emma: There was a boy in a certain place who never gave up on people in need.

Emma: Like the crying children and grandmothers in trouble….

Emma: Or an older sister who is fighting and an older brother who is tired….

Emma: That boy is smart, and he always helps in all kinds of ways.

(….)

Emma: Everyone laughs when that boy is around.

Emma: Whether he was angry, crying, sad, or frustrated….

Emma: Everyone laughs and forgets all the bad stuff.

Emma: I want to be like that big brother.

Gilbert: Why?

Emma: Because it makes me happy when people laugh.

Emma: I'm trying so hard to be like him….

Emma: …I'm doing my best…

Emma gripped the hem of her dress again and looked closely at the place where the man had disappeared.

(You wanted him to laugh, regardless of whether he was a villain or not. ...There's probably no logic to it.)

(Being able to feel the smiles of others as if they were your happiness is a certain talent.)

(The little rabbit originally had that talent…)

(After hearing Akatsuki's story, I came to consider that a boy who no longer exists anywhere became an ideal.)

I was overcome by an indescribable emotion, and my smile almost crumbled.

(…No wonder, the little rabbit reminded me of my past self.)

(I thought we were alike, but…)

(I guess because of me, you have learned the "bad" way to put others before yourself.)

Gilbert: Hey, little rabbit. Would you like to meet that boy?

Emma: Gil, do you know him!?

Emma's eyes lit up, and I could feel the strength of her passion.

Gilbert: But he might not be the same big brother you think he is, you know?

Gilbert: People change. That child may become someone completely different from what you longed for.

Gilbert: He may become the kind of adult who ignores people in need and does not reach out to them.

(….You must have been very disappointed in me for not thinking anything of the fight between the traffickers/smugglers, aren’t you?)

Gilbert: Do you still want to see him?

Emma: I want to!

Emma: After all, big brother Akatsuki said so.

Emma folds her arms cutely and raises her eyebrows.

Perhaps she is imitating Akatsuki.

Emma: "People are like roses."

Emma: "Roses may wither, bloom, or bud depending on the season."…

Emma: "The roots remain the same no matter what."

Gilbert: ….

Emma: That’s why I'm sure big brother hasn't changed at all.

Emma: Because his roots will always remain the same.

("Father" even talked about that to the little Emma.)

I felt like I learned about Emma's background as she grew up as Rhodolite's Belle.

Emma: Even so…

Emma: Maybe I don't want to see him just yet.

Gilbert: Huh, you looked so eager to see him earlier.

Emma: Because, you know, I'm still not as good as my big brother.

Emma: I want everyone to laugh, but sometimes I can't…

Emma: It would be best to meet my big brother once I am able to do things properly.

Emma: …I want to love my big brother as much as he loves me.

Emma: So don't tell anyone...Gil.

Finally, Emma lowers her voice and puts a small finger in front of her lips.

(This child's cuteness is now a deadly weapon. She’s dangerous. ...I need to notify the castle immediately of a no-contact order.)

Even though I was touched by her gestures, my mouth couldn’t help but relax.

(Maybe I'm just having a convenient dream….)

(If this is the little rabbit's first love, I've heard good things.)

Gilbert: Hehe, got it. Whenever you want to see him, just let me know, okay?

Emma: Yes!

With the little rabbit smiling again, we walk around the town again.

We ate lots of delicious food, bought "sparkles", and played with the playground equipment at the park in town….

In the meantime, the sky changed color and the night, favored by the wicked, arrived.

Roderich: Lord Gilbert.

As Emma was sleeping soundly on the bed, which was too big for a small child, I was soothing her body,

Roderich entered without a sound and kneeled.

Gilbert: Did you find it?

Roderich: As you command.

Gilbert: That's good. I'm sure you investigated his additional charges as well?

Roderich: Yes.

I received the document that was handed to me and looked through it.

There were all sorts of dirty deeds that the little rabbit wouldn't be able to see.

(Aah, this is no good.)

(I never intended to keep him alive in the first place, but there is so much corruption and deception.)

Gilbert: Roderich, let’s switch places.

I let go of Emma and I stood up.

Roderich: No, I'll handle it myself——

Gilbert: This time it's okay because it includes personal information.

I put on the jacket I had taken off and checked the gun I always carry, apart from my cane.

When I loaded a bullet into an empty chamber and put it in my pocket,

I turned to Roderich, who was puzzled about what to do with little Emma.

Gilbert: But you know what will happen if the little rabbit gets more attached to you, don't you?

Roderich: I'll try not to wake her up.

Gilbert: Yeah, just be careful, okay?

Gilbert: ….I’m sorry, Emma.

I walked over to her without making a sound and stroked her bangs lightly.

Emma's expression was calm as if she was dreaming about something.

Gilbert: You said that the roots remain the same, but that's not true.

Gilbert: The roots of flowers rot if they're in the wrong environment.

Gilbert: …But I will never let your roots rot. // But your roots will never rot.

Gilbert: May you remain a beautiful woman at heart….

Gilbert: And I’ll do what I must.

▸ [ previous ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

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