#i like the side characters in this series but honestly i think i have more emotional attachment to the ships than to the guys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

im-poe-dameron · 9 months

Text

─── BREATHE ME IN

a/n: so um...i have no idea what this is. i started this when the kenobi series was coming out and sort of dropped it after a month. but here i am, finally finishing it and making it longer than it was supposed to be. did we really expect me not to find darth vader hot? i think he's where my whole loving a masked character came from. honestly this is basically filth with me trying to shove plot in not so subtly. so i hope y'all enjoy!

summary: the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there's a secret he hides even from his own master.

word count: 5.5k+ (because i'm insane)

pairing: darth vader x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, angst, tenderness which is shocking, thigh riding, choking (obviously), oral (male receiving), a tad bit of face fucking, dom/sub dynamics, rough p in v sex, overstimulation, more hints of anakin than vader.

You’ll never be able to forget the scent of him after that night one month ago. It was branded in your mind, forever a part of you as he bent you to his will—made you his without even saying a single word. You should have fought him on it; made him see that you weren’t ready to relinquish the power you once held, but you knew the man beneath the mask he wore. You had known Anakin before he became this, before he twisted himself up inside and gave into being Darth Vader.

Even now as you stood in your small home on a planet far away from the Empire’s touch, you could feel his control over you. Long before the order was given and Jedi were slaughtered, you had been one of them. A knight who fought alongside Anakin in the Clone Wars—a warrior who chose the side of good rather than evil.

Then things fell apart. You were told that the man you loved, the person you cherished the most, gave into the dark side.

He became a stranger once more.

But nobody runs from Anakin for long—especially when he’s become a force more powerful than any Jedi could ever hope to be. You were hiding out on Devaron when he found you, attempting first to turn you to the dark side with him. Only for you to see something break in his exterior, his walls dropping for a split second and you felt it like a punch to the chest. He needed you.

This absolute desire was not born out of lust but pure necessity, because even as Darth Vader…Anakin Skywalker still lived beneath the mask and he didn’t know how to live without you. You’d always been the person he turned to when Obi-Wan wouldn’t understand the nature of his feelings. When he could no longer control them himself.

So, he left you there—allowing you to remain a Jedi who chose the light side of the Force over him. But he would return again and again. Desperate for someone to put his strained mind at ease—the memories of his past haunting him with every waking day. Perhaps that's where the submission started. In helping him by allowing him into your bed, into your heart little by little each time until eventually…you yearned for him to.

Jedi weren’t allowed to have such strong attachments, but as a Sith…he could keep you as his for as long as possible. A deal you wholeheartedly agreed to with a single word.

The stars were starting to shine brightly in the night sky as you traversed the dense forest of Devaron, your lightsaber clipped to your side and hood drawn up over your head. You heard his ship land ten minutes ago; knew he now stood in the center of your home awaiting your arrival. So, you took your time. Anakin never liked to wait, Darth Vader was no different, and somehow that brought a smile to your face. So desperate to see you that he would battle his way through the forest alone to find you again.

He would come after you—you knew he would—and that brought back the pool of heat that always found its way to your body when he arrived.

There was something twisted about loving him even the way he was now. How could you, a Jedi Knight of your ability, love something so dark? How could you give into the sinister deliciousness of that side, yet still remain so true to the light side of the Force? The answer was simpler than you thought. In your mind he still remained as Anakin the man you loved and even though you knew what he did, what he now became, you couldn’t let go of your heart fully.

Even if the scars now showed as small canyons and ridges, each one holding a darkness that would ultimately cause your demise.

He knew this.

Nobody loved Darth Vader, nobody gave themselves to the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, without understanding they would die because of it one day. Perhaps that’s what caused the absolute ache in your bones at the mere sight of him. The thought of one day no longer being by his side. Some Jedi may claim you were betraying what you believed in—destroying yourself just for an inkling of mind numbing pleasure—but it was more than that. Pleasure ultimately gave way to the pain of loving someone beyond saving.

As expected you arrived at your small house to the sight of a black ship—big enough for one—in the clearing that was solely used by him. The darkness bled through the Force, encasing you in a biting cold as you walked towards the already open door. One might say the sight of him standing amidst your tiny living room was terrifying enough to run away. But you were never one to cower in fear from him and you refused to start now.

His head tilted, energy stretching out towards you through the old connection you used to have with him, and with a small smile you reached back. Twining your brilliant blue around his obsidian nature until you saw him shudder beneath his cloak.

“You’re late,” he said—his voice something you had to continue to get used to.

Humming, you dropped your robe onto the chair behind him, heading towards your small makeshift kitchen where you knew there’d be some bread from the day before. He turned, watching you move as you continued to press your Force signature against his own—reminding him of a time when he too held a blue lightsaber brighter than yours. This was a two way street. You savored the bitter sweetness of the dark side, relishing in the rush of power that flowed through your veins, and he once again fell back into what he used to know. The calming serenity of the light side.

“You’re early,” you teased, knowing his temper was far worse than before. However he always seemed to control it around you—the tight grip he had on his anger evident in the way his fist clenched.

“Where did you go?” He demanded more than asked nowadays and so you stayed silent, awaiting for the flare of anger to shove its way into your mind.

It never came though. The silence almost shocked you as you turned, eating the remainder of the bread. But that’s what he wanted out of you—a reaction that would show you actually acknowledge his presence. How could you not? When he stood there looking like the true embodiment of the dark side of the Force. Although there were times when you missed the sight of Anakin standing before you—a smile on his face that always reached his blue eyes.

“Exploring,” you said, eyes flickering down the length of him—taking in the sight of his rigid stance. “How long are you here for?”

“Tonight.”

His answers were blunt, to the point, because he didn’t have time to dawdle. You were his secret, you knew this. If anyone found out you’d be killed and knowing who Darth Vader answered to…he’d be forced to do it himself. So, you nodded and finished the remainder of your bread as you continued to watch him—prodding at the wall of his mind to hopefully see within. But they remained up, blocking you from anything other than his Force signature which remained tightly entwined with your own.

“How long will you be gone for?”

He paused, pressing against the walls of your mind to see what exactly you were thinking, but you knew he didn’t wish to forcefully tear them down. You were not a person he was interrogating—rather a lover who he may very well lose if he didn’t act accordingly. His fist clenched again, the struggle to remain in complete control now wavering as you stalled for time. He knew what you were doing and yet he still played along.

“I don’t know.”

You hummed, once more pressing against the wall in his mind. It was dangerous to be let inside—having seen what he harbored behind the thick barrier—but your curiosity always wished to drag you into trouble.

What was safety compared to intimately knowing the most lethal person in existence? To you there would be nothing more intriguing, nothing more worth the risk than this simple gesture.

“Don’t,” he spit out, stepping closer until your lower back was digging into the counter.

“You let me in once before—”

His gloved hand landed on your throat, silencing your words and causing a shudder to run down your spine. Though the position wasn’t unfamiliar, it still brought a small inkling of fear to peek its head out. He could kill you—without remorse. Yet he never did. He simply remained, holding your throat as tenderly as he possibly could—relearning what the meaning of gentle was. That thought alone brought a dazed smile to your face, your eyes nearly fluttering closed as his thumb ran along the column of your neck.

“That is no longer a luxury you are allowed to have.”

The words were sinister on his tongue, like a sharp knife to your heart, but you’d been scarred by him before. “Is it because I know what I’ll find? Or are you afraid?”

His control finally snapped, the pressure on your throat now crushing you until you struggled for air. But he didn’t squeeze harder, he didn’t make sure that you were unable to breathe completely, because he couldn’t cross that line. He refused to. You were the only light he let slip through the cracks of his helmet; the one thing keeping him stable on the ground and while it wasn’t very Darth Vader of him to keep you—it was the part of Anakin that still remained that held onto you tightly.

“You know nothing.”

Despite the lack of oxygen, you smiled. “I know you.”

The words came out choked and broken, but it was enough. He froze, his hand loosening around your throat as the final realization clicked into place just like it always did when he found his way back to you.

You knew him—knew Anakin that lay beneath the surface and Vader that rose to power crushing him in the end. You knew all the ugly bits that showed through the evident splinters of his being and in spite of all of that…you still loved him. Whenever he left you he seemed to forget that when he came here he didn’t have to wear a shroud of anger that resembled his cape. He didn’t have to wean himself from the light side with every bittersweet touch, because you held no expectations of him.

“Anakin,” you breathed, hand sliding along his leather covered limb. “Come home.”

Little by little you saw his walls come down, felt the darkness seep into his Force signature until you were surrounded by it. Until the only light left between the two of you was yours—guiding him back to you for a brief moment. He’d only be here tonight, so you’d have tonight.

You would take as much time as you were allowed if it meant seeing Anakin for a brief moment again.

“Anakin is dead,” he muttered, hand shifting until his thumb was pressing against your bottom lip. “I killed him.”

Parting your lips you allowed him to invade your senses even further—the taste of the leather permeated your mouth, driving a moan from your throat. Digging your nails into his arm, you felt him push against you—forcing his way into your mind and showing you images of a past that felt like yesterday. Anakin’s face flashed before you, the smile you ached to see again finally coming back to you, and it drew a whimper to the surface. A sound he liked if the pressure on your tongue was enough to go by.

The scene shifted and you felt the heat flare to life in your stomach as you saw yourself beneath him, sobbing his name as he practically shoved you into all encompassing bliss. Memories he still held onto—torturing himself because he could no longer have you in the way he wanted. But above all that, one stuck to the forefront of your mind. The taste of him as he kissed you; devoured everything you were and felt greedy enough to take even more.

The first hints of the dark side within him.

“Maker,” you gasped as he ripped his hand away, reaching for the ties of your robes. “I miss it too.”

Gathering enough of your energy you used the Force to shove him backwards until he stumbled into the wall behind him—his large frame taking up too much space. To anyone else it would have felt suffocating, but to you…this was as safe as you were ever going to get. He ached to have his old self back not to be a Jedi again. No, he thrived in the sinister ways of the Sith. He wanted to be Anakin, to have you again by his side—to kiss you like he used to on nights where things became too heavy a burden to carry alone.

Somehow in the midst of you pushing him back and him resisting you ended up pinned to the wall of your bedroom by him. He didn’t even have to touch you to make you beg for more; for you to do anything he wanted. This is what bending to his will became and he loved it.

He stood inches away, the tips of his boots touching yours and so like a fool you let your walls down without any warning. Shoving every memory and burning need his way until he was gasping through the modulator—his hand slamming against the wall beside your head. Each moment you were with him, each touch and night neither of you slept—too busy finding what made the other tick—it all poured into his mind. You made him see what you saw whenever you were near him even with the mask.

The cold feeling of his mask pressed against your cheek as he tried to push himself closer. This is all it would amount to. Nights spent in secret when really the both of you ached for one last thing. Something you never got.

A farewell kiss.

“Anakin,” you said softly, hand sliding to his shoulder. “Are you home?”

He let out a breath, the sound distorted through the modulator before finally breaking down the last of his walls. “Yes.”

You didn’t know how long tonight would truly last and so you began to clutch at his arm, feeling a hot press of his gloved hand dig into your thigh as he raised it to his hip. A natural movement he’d done a hundred times over. That was enough to make you smile, a small bit of laughter echoing off the walls of your tiny room. Although darkness still clung to him, still twisted tightly around your Force energy, he remained the man you loved.

Both Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader alike.

“Tell me,” he groaned, shoving his knee up gently and fitting it right at the seam of your pants.

It almost didn’t feel fair how he knew your body so well—how he knew which way to move you to finally hear that familiar moan tumble past your lips. Grinding your hips down, your head fell back against the wall when pressure was finally applied to your throbbing clit, sending sparks down your spine. You knew he watched every emotion, expression, and heard every sound behind that helmet and somehow…that made it even more electric.

“Tell me,” he demanded, hand going back to your throat and keeping you in place as his other one guided your hips along his thigh.

Fuck, you were still clothed and felt like you would fall apart at any moment.

“I—” Moaning, your hands scrambled for purchase along his chest. “I love you.”

Placing pressure on your throat he shoved pressed his thigh upwards, watching your eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched gasp escaping you as you finally broke. Light flooded his senses, nearly breaking his stance, but the sight of you writhing in his grasp—whimpers falling from your lips was too addicting for him to let go of. They say that the dark side made one greedy; desperate for whatever they wanted, and in this moment he was prepared to take and take until you had nothing left to give.

He knew you’d let him. You would give him whatever he asked for.

“Anaki—” He cut you off, dragging you along his thigh again and watching as your face twisted. Both pain and pleasure collided as you were shoved into overstimulation.

“Again,” he said, moving his hand from your hip to your pants—helping you yank them off until the leather of his glove slid through your hot slick. “I want to see you do it again.”

“Oh fuck.”

Gasping for air, you dug your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he ruthlessly began to toy with your clit. He knew exactly what to do to shove you right on that edge again and perhaps that’s what flung you over it. Or maybe it was him shoving the same words back into your own mind until it echoed over and over again.

I love you.

Sith didn’t care about things like love, but Anakin Skywalker was never truly a Sith just as he was never truly a Jedi.

He was stuck in between—crossing the border of want and need.

“I can’t.” A cry ripped from you as his other hand moved down from your neck to your chest, rubbing a thumb over your nipple. “I—Anakin I can’t.”

He chuckled, the sound menacing even to you. “Yes you can.”

This wasn’t a question—it was a choice of when you’d finally give in. The pressure in your body built, the coil twisting as he continued to rub sharp circles on your clit. When your legs began to shake and your vision became blurry from tears, you knew you were right there on the very edge of shattering, but you couldn’t. Not until he joined you on that edge—relenting his power to give you some of your own.

“Say it,” you begged, eyes screwing shut as he sunk two fingers into you right to the knuckle—his thumb continuing. “Say it for me. Please I need—I need to—”

“I love you.”

The words sounded foreign coming from his modulator, but you knew this was Anakin speaking not the twisted side of him that fed off of pain. He’d finally ripped free from the cage he was put in, leeching off the light coming from you with glee. He may not have meant the words entirely, but they did what you both intended them to do.

Sobbing his name, you felt the pressure snap in two flooding your body with a white-hot pleasure. You could hear his fingers as they continued to pump into you, rubbing against the spot along your walls that made your legs shake and tears flow down your cheeks.

“That’s it,” he muttered, hand going around your neck to hold you in place as you practically grinded on his hand—the pleasure still coursing through your veins.

You were lost to it. Mind numb to everything else but him standing before you.

It took you a few minutes to catch your breath and gain feeling in your limbs again and he waited. Gave you a chance to breathe as he fought against the impatience that trickled into his veins—a quality that was unnatural to him. Once you were finally able to open your eyes, sighing in contentment, you focused on his mind—allowing yourself a chance to see inside of it. As always it was inner turmoil that had you flinching, but right now all you saw were memories of you and him. The same ones he played over and over again while he was away from you.

“And here I thought you never missed me while you were away,” you said, lips curving into a smile sweet enough to taste.

“I don’t miss you.” He leaned closer, hand reaching down to cup your swollen cunt. “I miss this.”

Words like that should have stung, but you knew him better than that. You knew why he said the things he said. So you smiled wider, dragging his arm up until his hand was in front of your face, the black leather shiny with your cum. Twining your Force signature around him until he couldn’t escape, you sucked his fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. He didn’t expect you to give in so easily—usually enjoying the fight you put him through. But tonight you’d settle for this so you could gain more.

“We’ll see about that,” you whispered, kissing his palm and dropping his arm.

You wanted him to give over the control he ached for; wanted to watch as the last of his residual armor came crashing down around you. Only one person would be able to say they brought Darth Vader down to their knees and it was you. His light, his moon, his lover.

Pushing his leg away, you pressed your hands on his chest, wishing you could once again feel the strong heartbeat beneath his skin. The steady thrum of it put you to sleep on long nights when you snuck away from the Jedi Temple, but for now you’d have to settle for the rhythmic timing of his breaths as they echoed around the room.

Without another thought, you dropped to your knees in front of him—his body keeping you caged in along the wall. You figured he already knew what you were going to do, if the way he widened his stance told you anything. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your gaze back towards him. It was the gentle nature of his touch that sent heat spilling into your heart. Anakin flared to life right before your eyes with every passing minute.

Undoing his belt, you allowed yourself a moment to admire what lay beneath the leather. What he always drew your attention away from. The skin was burnt, scarred beyond anything you’d ever seen before, but that never mattered to you. He stood stiff, his other hand pressed against the wall, helmet focused on you. Almost like he was unsure of what would happen.

Would you not care? Or would what remained not be what you wanted?

“Oh…” you gasped when he was finally free.

He was scarred there too, you’d felt it before. Except you weren’t shocked by that; no you were surprised by how worked up he was. The glossy sheen of precum building up at the tip practically dripped down your palm as you held him—begging for you to taste. Leaning forward, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, the guttural moan he let out sending a flare of heat through your body.

“Is this for me?” you asked sweetly, knowing it would only succeed in riling him up even more.

He grunted, his hand pushing you forward until his cock was once more back in your mouth. Although you didn’t mind in the slightest. Not when his addicting salty tang spread on your tongue the longer you sucked on the head. He was shameless with the sounds he made. Entirely focused on his pleasure, but you felt the way he softly rubbed his thumb along your neck, sending goosebumps down your skin.

“Take me deeper,” he said, already knowing you were heading that way anyways. “I know you can.”

You moaned when he hit the back of your throat, his hips thrusting forward slightly until you gagged. That alone only made him do it again. Pressing against the firm line that stood between the both of you. He wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want—as long as you gave him control. Something you were more than okay with handing over.

It’s not like you had any semblance of it before he became Darth Vader. Anakin had always been one to take what he deemed he deserved. Except when it came to you, he always gave you the choice. Even now as your nose brushed the base of his cock, your throat squeezing him so tight his whole body shuddered, you still held the choice.

You sucked in a breath when he pulled away, tears streaming down your cheeks and spit covering your chin. Part of you wanted to keep going—to feel him spill down your throat—but you knew that wasn’t what he was here for. Dragging you up, he pressed the cold shell of his helmet against your forehead, hands grasping your hips tightly.

“I need—” He cut himself off, a loud breath reverberating through his modulator.

For the first time that night you felt it. The small flicker of blue in his otherwise black Force signature. Only in moments like this, when his desperation practically permeated the air, did you find your Anakin.

The only thing stronger than Palpatine’s hold over him had always been the love he felt for you—that was clear to you now.

“I know,” you murmured, leading him back and watching as he sat on your bed. His large frame practically took up the entire room. He spread his legs, allowing you to step between them, but you had a different plan altogether.

Clambering onto his lap, you held yourself up as you positioned his cock at your entrance. Your slick practically pooled over him, making it easier for you to take him in one thrust. But rather than rush this, you held yourself there. Hovering over his needy and wanting cock—making him wait for the one thing he so desperately needed. The blue flickered again, vibrating through you and forcing a gasp from your lungs.

You longed to pull it closer until it enveloped you entirely; til you suffocated from its light. But whatever remained was now small and fleeting, only seen in moments like this. His grasp turned harsh, impatient. Letting you know that he only had so much left in him before he took back the small sliver of control he allotted you.

Your whole body shook as you finally lowered yourself, feeling the stretch of his cock sliding into your cunt. A growl ripped from his chest, his hands pressing you down further and watching in delight as your head fell back, a garbled shout echoing off the walls. You went dizzy with the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. It rushed through you, setting each nerve in your body alight with a burning fire.

Which only made everything shine brighter.

Light flooded his senses, your Force signature practically bleeding out into the room. And he took it. He swallowed it whole in his never ending darkness with the hope that you were never extinguished.

“More,” you gasped, fingers digging into the leather that covered his shoulder.

He shoved his hips upward, grinding against you and tearing a sound from your chest that seared into his mind instantly. You were a wanton mess. Barely hanging on to the person you were thirty minutes ago—before he came back into your life. Instead there you were. The lover who fed off of his darkness; who took what the Jedi Order claimed was forbidden and begged for more.

“Maker—fuck—I-I’m oh fuck—” You made no sense, but that’s the way he wanted you. An incoherent babbling mess that rode his cock to chase that feeling only he could bring you.

Lifting yourself up slightly, you dropped back down haphazardly, hating the emptiness that came with his cock slipping out of you. A sound tore through his modulator, his hands tightening on your hips as you set a brutal pace. He groaned when your walls tightened around him, the sound of your skin slapping against the leather of his pants echoing in the room. If you listened closely you could hear the wet squelch of your slick as he set his own pace, pounding into you without abandon.

“Please, Anakin please,” you cried, unsure of what you were begging for.

He seemed to know though.

Without a response, his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing down tightly as he thrusted upwards even harder. The lack of oxygen seemed to only heighten the sensation you chased—pleasure building up to an almost painful degree in your body.

He bent you to his will, guiding your body in a way that felt familiar. You didn’t have to think when he was here, didn't need to focus your energy on any of this, because he did it for you. His gloved thumb pressed against your lips until you opened up with ease, sucking his finger into your mouth with a moan. It gave you a chance to take in a deep breath before he clamped down tight around your throat again. Turning your vision hazy.

“Good,” he muttered, pulling the spit slicked finger from your mouth. Only to press it firmly against your clit.

Your body arched, a broken cry falling from your lips as tears streamed down your face. It was too much, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop. You didn’t want him to. The pleasure nearly blinded you with each thrust of his cock into your dripping cunt. But what made you fall wasn’t the feeling of him finally striking against the spot that made your body curl in on itself.

No, it was the image he projected in your mind.

“That’s what you like huh,” Anakin’s voice grunted in your head, his blue eyes just as bright as before.

You sobbed out a garbled yes, eyes rolling back. The image continued. A bright blue light wrapped itself around you, nearly burning you from the inside out as he pinched your clit between his fingers. And you chased it; grabbed onto the sensation tightly and let it fill your chest until you swore your heart stopped beating.

“I want you to cum. Let me see my pussy drip for me,” he spit, dragging you closer until you were pressed so tight it nearly hurt.

“Don’t,” you gasped, shoving the image of Anakin away from your mind, eyes focusing on the empty soulless black mask he wore. His hand let up slightly, allowing you breath to speak. “I want to see you. Not him.”

Warmth spread through your chest when his hips stuttered, a groan reverberating against your breast. You wished you could kiss him. Feel the hot press of his lips on yours, but this—feeling him thrust into you quickly—was enough. His hand tightened again as his cock drove up into you harshly, hitting right where you needed to fly off the edge. Your mouth fell open, a broken sob making its way through as the all encompassing heat you so desired began to spill through your body.

A snarl ripped through your very being when he finally joined you, spurting into your swollen cunt and filling you until you leaked around the base of him. Except he didn’t stop. He pushed forward, thrusting into you until pain filtered through the pleasure. Once more you were shoved into that bliss, drowning in it with no way out.

Sobbing his name, you felt your body shake as he finally ceased his movements, allowing you to sag against him. The energy was completely depleted from you and he knew it. Which is why he didn’t move. Simply breathed deeply, his softening cock still deep in you, causing you to moan slightly at every soft twitch.

“How long until you have to go?” you sighed, your fingers tracing random shapes against his armor.

“Soon.”

“Will you come back?”

You knew you wouldn’t receive an answer. You never did, because even he didn’t know when Palpatine would finally release him again from his grasp. He let out a breath, his hands cupping your ass as he molded you to him. The blue light still flickered amidst the darkness, turning his once bleak Force signature a brilliant midnight color. And for a moment you saw the real him. The man who lay beyond the layers of his armor.

Laying a kiss against the cold shell of his mask, you allowed yourself a moment to be enveloped by him. The darkness would return eventually, wiping away the man who sat beneath you. But for now, he was here and he was yours.

Smiling, you pressed against it with your own, feeling him shudder beneath you. It was like looking at the night sky—a sight you wanted to keep until you were left alone once more. Curling around his body, you allowed sleep to finally overtake you, your mind soothed by the soft touch of the Force he pressed against you.

Only then did you realize.

In the small space of your home, beneath the strain of a galaxy under siege, your Anakin finally found his way home again.

#darth vader x f!reader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #darth vader smut #darth vader #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #star wars fic #my writing

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atopvisenyashill · 5 months

Note

Is Lyanna really as terrible as some people portray her as?

no, not even a little bit.

the absolute most important thing about lyanna is that when she dies she is only 16. i am someone who works with kids - i work in a library so i spend most of my days cleaning up after tweens and asking teenagers to please stop doing dumb shit- and the first thing anyone who has ever worked with kids and especially teenagers is that they may look like adults but they are NOT. they don’t understand boundaries, they have next to zero impulse control, and every bad thing that happens feels like the worst thing ever because it very likely IS the worst thing they’ve ever experienced bc they have not been alive that long!

and this goes for every single teen & tween character in this series, not just lyanna! shit, i am someone who feels an immense amount of sympathy for joffrey! on one side he’s got his mother telling him he can do anything he wants with no repercussions and on the other he’s got his father hitting him so hard that stannis thought joffrey was going to die. and then he is given unchecked power and told not to abuse it! EYE cannot even guarantee that i wouldn’t use unchecked power to do shady shit and i am a fully grown adult, not a traumatized, irrationally, and deeply vindictive 13 year old boy.

but honestly the most important thing about lyanna is that we have ZERO CONTEXT for what happens between her and Rhaegar. What we have is

Ned’s sparse & guilt ridden thoughts about Lyanna and one (1) comment about Rhaegar

Robert’s angry, entitled, and grief ridden outbursts about Lyanna and Rhaegar

Barristan’s incredibly romanticized, guilt & grief ridden take on their relationship

Meera’s second hand account of Lyanna, told to her by a father who is likely just as guilt & grief ridden as the others, who likely has his own view of Lyanna

What’s important to note is that our view of her is heavily filtered through the eyes of the men that knew her. Robert loves an idealized version of her that never existed. Barristan never actually knew her. Ned is not only viewing her under 200 layers of guilt and grief, but very obviously does not understand his sister, or why she made the choices she did, and struggles constantly with knowing that he will never know her the way he wishes he could, the way he thought he did. Given the way Meera describes Lyanna, I actually think Howland is our most accurate look at her but even that is buried behind years of grief & a fair amount of hero worship and affection (“that’s my fathers man you’re kicking howled the she-wolf” is a line that makes me WEEP for this exact reason; Howland sees Lyanna as his hero above all else!).

All of that to say - we don't even know what Lyanna did that was so terrible! Even if she was a grown woman capable of making rational decisions, we have no idea what her decisions were. She could have been lied to, misled, kidnapped, threatened, just as surely as she could have walked into the situation with open eyes. Even in the show, with a slightly aged up Lyanna - we get, what, just Sam's opinion on Rhaegar and Lyanna being in love because they got hitched? Completely ignoring the fact that we had several women in this series get married not because they were in love or willing but because someone more powerful decided on it and that was that, so there's still no evidence that Lyanna had enough information about the situation to make any sort of informed, consensual decision.

so no, i do not hold lyanna responsible for anything at all that happened regardless of how it happened because she was not mentally mature enough to understand what the hell was going on. a 15 year old is just not mature enough to think “if i run off with this married man, it’s going to cause a cascade of political issues that could have disastrous consequences.” what she’s probably thinking is “this man says he can help me and i am fucking miserable and no one else will listen.” it’s why we don’t throw 15 year olds who run away to meet up with old dudes they met online in jail when they’re caught (or theoretically why we don’t punish them at any rate). There is one person and one person only who is responsible for the massive fuck up that is the Elia-Rhaenys-Aegon-Lyanna-Jon mess and that is RHAEGAR, the person with the most amount of power who used it in the dumbest way imaginable and got himself, most of his heirs, his wife, and his teenaged mistress killed. The only other people responsible are the Kingsguard who kept Lyanna under lock and key while she lay dying and pleading for her brother to come save her.

#lyanna stark #anti rhaegar targaryen #valyrianscrolls #gender politics in asoiaf #mariages in asoiaf #asks #anons

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srjlvr · 5 months

Text

SEVEN ROYALTIES

“once upon a time there was a prince, who did anything he could to be with the love of his life” — park sunghoon.

park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers , one sided love somewhere into the story , heavy angst , fluff ! warnings: character’s death (not a main character) , curse words. (lmk if i missed something pls!) || NOT FULLY PROOFREAD!!

WORD-COUNT ; 5.5K+

NOTE. wow i dont even know where to start! it’s been a real while! i think like more than a month, i’m extremely sorry for being gone, school is so stressful, but i got some time to write now and honestly? i missed it so much!! hopefully you’d like this part and don’t let it fool you, just because i’ve been gone for a while doesn’t mean i’m not continuing this wonderful series!! it was also supposed to be enemies to lovers but i honestly failed miserably and idk how to define it- some mentions of sunoo’s story are dropped here too :)

“why do you always look at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i’m the most precious thing you’ve ever saw”

a few years into your childhood and you were already been told that you’re going to marry off to someone as soon as possible.

you, being the second princess and the least favorite one, had to deal with a lot of struggles through your childhood.

everyone loved your older sister more, praised her, cherished her, spoiled her, gave her whatever she wants.

you, on the other hand, had to work hard in terms of getting what you wanted.

you always looked up to your older sister, you can’t lie, you definitely understand why she’s getting all the attention to herself without even trying.

your mom is your favorite person, she’s actually your best friend.

some kids have hard time deciding what to answer when they’re being asked who’s their favorite parent, but you definitely know the answer already.

it’s your dad that never bats an eye to you, your mom however always tries to maintain her attention to both you and your sister. you’d do anything for your mom.

as much as you’re happy that you’re at least not a second option in your mom’s perspective, the king is the one who’s more dominant.

you’ve always tried to get your father’s attention, even for a mere second, but he always pushed you away, making you feel unworthy and sad.

at age six, you were forced to go with your mom to one of her friend’s kingdom, your neighbor kingdom.

everyone in royalty knows about the good friendship your kingdoms have, and they’re all surprised it still keeps on going.

royalty comes with a dangerous risk, people will always look at anything you do, and will not hesitate to attack if you happened to do something they’re not a fond of.

your kingdom suffered lots of wars, but won almost all of them.

at the very same day you were forced to go with your mom, you also met the person who finally had all their attention on you, the person who you could rely on no matter when.

“i’m y/n!” you extended your hand out with a smile.

“i’m sunghoon” he whispered and you tilt your head. he wasn’t shaking your hand and you couldn’t even hear him.

“what?”

“i’m sunghoon”

“i cant hear you!!” you shout and put your ear really close to his mouth.

“i’m sunghoon!” he shouted into your ear and you fell down while holding your ear.

“you did that on purpose didn’t you!” you pout and he laughed.

that’s when you realized his cute smile and the little dimples that grew on his cheeks.

he was cute, a cute and shy prince, you could get along perfectly with him.

and you actually did. you spent the rest of your visit just roaming around their castle.

he introduced you his six brothers, they were all very nice and funny, but only sunghoon interested you.

he told you about his interests and you told him about yours.

“i want to learn how to skate!” he said and you noticed his eyes growing in excitement while talking about it.

“it sounds really interesting!” you smiled and cheered him.

“what about you?”

“i actually don’t know” you sighed, “i want my father to pay more attention to me”

“who needs your father when you have me? i’ll be always here for you” he smiled.

“really?” you asked and he nodded, “really”

“promise me!” you held out your pinky and he locked his with yours, “i think promises are stupid, but only for you i promise to never leave you side”

“why are they stupid?”

“because sometimes you regret them, or even forget them, and you cant keep them forever”

growing up with sunghoon was something you could never explain.

having to suffer your father’s comparisons between you and your sister was something, but having to see sunghoon going through puberty was something else. scarier indeed.

the both of you were inseparable, to the point where your parents even started talking about marriage between the two of you when you were twelve.

every now and then in your teenage years, you’d come around his castle, your second home.

whenever you were pissed off with your father or just wanted some quiet, you’d find yourself going back to sunghoon, only he knew how to make you feel ten times better.

“what are you reading?” he asked you.

you were laying your head on his lap as he sat under a tree, it was a peaceful day and you wanted to enjoy some time with him.

“just some fairytale stories” you put your book on your stomach and looked at him who was already looking down at you.

“wishing it was you?” he teased.

you rolled your eyes and smacked the book on his head, “fairytales are the best!”

you returned to read the book while he kept staring at you.

“read for me” he asked and you looked at him, sharing an eye contact.

“hey”

“hm?”

“why do you always look at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i’m the most precious thing you’ve ever saw”

sunghoon coughed a bit and looked away, “just start reading please, im interested”

“the princess then took the prince’s hand and held it tightly, slowly closing the gap between them and leaning in for a kiss—“

“never mind! i’ll just go sleep” sunghoon threw you off him and laid down next to you.

“you could’ve done that nicely!” you scoffed and he laughed.

he can’t explain it, but something about you makes him feel warm and comfortable. he loves your company more than anything else in this world and there’s nothing he loves more than staring at your gorgeous face.

spending a few years together made him long for you more and more every day that he’s not next to you.

he fell in love with you, and he fell hard.

you weren’t better either, every day without sunghoon for you felt like eternity.

he’s the only person you can see your future with, the only person who loves you for who you are and the only person that has his full attention on you.

you trust him more than you trust yourself and you family members.

on royal events, you’d be acting like a married couple, shooing away the singles royals that wants to catch you.

you belong to sunghoon and sunghoon belongs to you.

“it’s nice to meet you prince sunghoon” one filthy princess introduced herself to sunghoon while you stood by his side, holding his arm.

“likewise, meet my wife, y/n” he said, clearly uninterested in the princess but as soon as he looked over his side and met your eyes a smile formed on his face.

the princess scoffed and went away, finally letting you and sunghoon laugh it off.

“did you see the way she looked at you when you said you have a wife?” you held a hand over your chest, out of breath because of the amount of air you let out.

“please, it was so funny i’ll remember it for long” he nodded and you continued making jokes about everyone around you.

you shared your first kiss with sunghoon when you were fifteen.

“i love cherry blossoms” you said as you walked together with sunghoon under the cherry blossoms.

it was one of your favorite things to do with him, walking through the long road, hand in hand.

“and i love you” he let out.

“what?”

“what?” he repeated after you.

“what did you sa-“

he cut you off with a kiss, your first kiss.

cherry blossoms fell from the trees and the wind caressed your skin.

his lips were soft, locked with your lips. it was perfect, the kind of fairytale you were always wishing you could have finally came true, with the person you loved the most.

when you parted your lips to get some air, both of you giggled and he put his forehead against yours.

“i said i love you” he smiled.

“i love you too”

regardless of the sudden confession, you decided to stay as friends, and when the both of you will feel ready, you’d try it out.

at age sixteen, your mother’s condition started to go downhill. she got sick and had to take medical exams every now and then, ever since then, you decided to spend time with her as much as you could.

“good morning mom! how are you feeling today?” you asked with a huge smile on your face when you saw your mother.

“feeling as usual, nothing new” she gave you a weak smile, “have you eaten yet?”

you shook your head, “i was at the garden after father had his daily complains over me, i needed to take some breathes”

your mother nodded and hugged you, “i’m sorry your father is like that, if being a selfish father was a competition he’d definitely win”

both of you giggled and spent a few hours together.

you never told sunghoon anything about your mother’s condition, every time he’d ask about her well-beings you’d say she’s doing well but she’s too busy with duties, and he’d suspect nothing.

at the age seventeen, your mother’s condition worsened, she had doctors around her all the time.

“hello mother” you smiled.

“y/n! good morning” she tried to smile back.

“how are you—“

“i must ask you something before it’s too late” she cut you off.

“what is it?”

“i’ve been thinking about it for a while, and it might be silly and selfish of me to ask you to do that” she sighed, “please promise me you’re going to marry sunghoon”

“what?” you asked confused.

“he’s treating you well y/n, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you happier than when you’re with him. you’re perfect for each other” she nodded, “i don’t have much time left, hearing you promising you’d marry the man who makes you the happiest, would help me leave peacefully, to know that you’re going to live the life you deserve”

“i promise mom, i promise i’ll marry him but please, you have much time left, don’t say such nonsense!”

your mother hugged you and thanked you. guess it wasn’t so well-hidden that you were in love with sunghoon.

on one of the days your father called you. before walking inside his room you rolled your eyes, what kind of a complain he has now?

“hello father” you looked at him coldly.

“y/n,” he called, “i need to ask you to do something”

“huh?” you looked over him confused, “you never ask me for favors”

“your sister is too busy with her duties, so i trust you with this one” he shortly explained.

“okay,” you nodded, “what is it?”

“i need you to come with me to visit the other neighbor kingdom—“

“but we were never on good terms with them, they’re hybe’s kingdom biggest rivals too!” you cut him off.

“they’re the only ones that can help us with your mother’s condition. we must do anything we can to help her” your father sighed, “they have a son who’s interested in you, they requested to see you too”

you shook your head, “i’m not interested in him—“

“this is the only way to help your mother!” he shout and you backed away.

“what about hybe kingdom! can’t they help in any kind of way?” you argued.

your father shook his head, “they can’t do anything about it, and they must not know about your mother’s condition”

“so going to the rival kingdom and risking your good friendship is better?”

“you’re coming with me and it’s final”

a few days before your visit in your neighbor kingdom, sunghoon came over.

before he went to search for you, he heard two servants talking about something that drawn him to it.

“did you hear about y/n’s mother’s condition?” one of them said.

“it keeps on getting worse, poor y/n! i heard she has to go to the other kingdom to ask for their help together with the king” the other replied.

“i heard they’re the only ones that could help! hybe kingdom knows nothing about it because they don’t want to bother them too much, i also heard the son of the other kingdom is interested in y/n, what about prince sunghoon!”

“poor them, i just hope she won’t end up with their son. i was rooting for y/n and sunghoon endgame”

“agree, i also heard their daughter is interested in sunghoon! this is risky” she shook her head.

“y/n is strong, she won’t marry the son i just know it” they both nodded their heads and sunghoon slowly walked back.

he refuses to believe what he just heard. y/n’s mother’s condition worsens? y/n marrying someone else? he’ll never let that happen.

“sunghoon!” you called and hugged him, “i was searching for you instead of you searching for me”

sunghoon was not responding, he was too deep in thoughts and didn’t know how to stop them.

“sunghoon?” you waved your heads in front of him and he finally came back on track.

“i was just thinking about something” he smiled.

“would you like to talk about it?” you smiled warmly at him.

how could you smile so widely when youre going through all of this?

“it’s not something that should bother you” he smiled and kissed your cheeks.

you spent the rest of the day looking out for sunghoon, he was different today, as much as he didn’t want to show it, you noticed.

the next day sunghoon found himself standing in front of his biggest rival kingdom. he never thought he’d have to step his leg into this kingdom, but he’d do anything for you as long as he could.

“park sunghoon! i’ve never thought i’d witness a hybe royal inside my kingdom!” the king teased.

sunghoon closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, “i need your help and you’re the only one that can help me” he said firmly.

“we’re rivals, why would i want to help you?”

“because i have something you want” he sighed, “i’ll be getting my kingdom sooner or later, i’ll give it to you together with my crown”

“you’ll lose your crown for something possibly stupid?”

“i need you to help princess y/n’s kingdom. the queen’s condition is getting worse. i heard you gave the best doctors that can help her”

the king laughed, “you’re doing this for y/n and not for yourself? what a stupid prince you are!”

sunghoon looked away, fighting the urge not to stab the king and fight him.

“very well, i will help in exchange of your crown”

their agreement was that the king will send his best doctors to help your mother, and as soon as sunghoon will get his crown, he’ll give it to the king. if one of them breaks the agreement, it’s off.

a few days passed, and it was supposed to be your visit day in the other kingdom, except that it got canceled.

“did you tell anyone about this visit?!” your father shout at you and you shook your head.

“how come he sent me this stupid letter saying that if we step into his kingdom he’ll declare a war!”

“i don’t know! i did nothing!” you argued.

“something stopped him, more like someone! i’m going to find out who did this!” your father roamed outside his room, slamming the door harshly and you flinched.

a week passed and your mother’s condition wasn’t doing any better, the doctors told you it was already time to say goodbye but you refused to do so, you refuse to believe you won’t be able to see your mother everyday soon.

everything was too overwhelming and stressful, you decided to go to your second home, you needed some comfort and it’s been a while since you saw sunghoon anyway.

“what are you up to?” you found him in the castle’s garden, deep in thoughts.

“just thinking about something”

“by something you mean me?” you teased and he smiled, not answering your question because the answer is quite obvious.

you then hugged him tightly, and sighed deeply as you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” he caressed your back slowly.

“my mom isn’t doing well lately” you finally confessed. you had to let it all out and tell sunghoon the truth.

“she’s sick, too sick. and the last week was such a roller coaster, her condition isn’t getting better and it’s our time to say our final goodbyes, i’m not ready for that sunghoon” you sobbed, “i’m sorry for dumping it all on you and telling you all of this now when it’s late i just—“

“it’s okay” even though he already knew about your mother’s condition, he was so glad that you finally opened it up and told him, “i’m here for you”

he held you tighter than before and whispered sweet comfort words that always knew how to calm you down.

right after you left he thought about what happened.

he made a deal with the other kingdom, the king was supposed to help your mother, how come her condition worsened? something didn’t make sense to him at all.

“sunghoon!” his father called him and sunghoon rushed to the king’s room.

“yes father?”

“you’re getting married to our biggest rivals daughter and didn’t even tell us? are you out of your mind?” he shout.

sunghoon could’ve swore that in that moment his heart stopped beating, “what?” he asked in disbelief.

“the other king sent us a letter! inviting us to your wedding with his daughter! we’ve never been so humiliated, how could you betray your family?” his mother interrupted.

sunghoon shook his head, “there must be a misunderstanding—“

“how come?” the king asked, “your name is written on that letter! and it was probably sent to all the other kingdoms!!”

“what about y/n?!” his mother asked and his eyes widened.

“y/n…?”

“how do you think she’ll feel receiving that letter? huh?”

“no, no! none of this is true! you must believe me!”

“explain yourself then! we’re here waiting!” sunoo, one of sunghoon’s brother argued.

sunghoon sighed, shutting his eyes tightly and clenching his fists, “y/n’s mother, the queen, her condition is getting worse. she’s been awfully sick for a few years already, i overheard their servants talking about how only the other kingdom could help her because they don’t want to bother us. so i went to them myself, i made a deal with the king that he’ll help the queen in exchange of my throne—“

“are you out of your—“

“jay! let him talk” the queen shushed him.

“yes! i was ready to give up my crown if it means i can help her in any way!” sunghoon sighed, “the king obviously did nothing and lied to me! and now apparently im ‘marrying his daughter’ you know damn well that’s never going to happen because i want to marry y/n!”

sunghoon’s mother wiped out her tears and hugged sunghoon, “i’m sorry you had to go through this, you could’ve told us—“

“i didn’t want to bother you too, this story is complicated than you think”

“what about y/n’s mother’s condition?” the king asked quietly.

“y/n said it’s been getting worse, they started to say their final goodbyes” sunghoon whispered and the room became quiet, as a respect for the queen.

“you should go to her, to check on her” heeseung suddenly spoke.

“yeah, i bet she needs someone by her side right now” jungwon added.

sunghoon nodded and with his parents’ approval he went to your kingdom.

he searched for you around and saw you staring at your garden, he smiled for himself and tapped your shoulder.

“hey” he said.

“what are you doing here?” you asked coldly.

“what?” he tilt his head, “i’m here to visit you”

“don’t you have a wedding to go get prepared to?” you scoffed, “go away park, you’re not welcomed here anymore”

sunghoon had been stabbed a few times in his life, but your words hurt him more than ten stabs at once.

“you have to listen to me i—“

“there’s nothing to explain! i got the letter, saw your name on it and it was enough for me to understand this was all a game for you” you shout, “i can’t believe i actually believed your bullshit”

“i hate you, park sunghoon” you spit out, nothing but hate is in your fierce glance at him. he just chuckled, “you don’t mean that”

“oh i do,” you nodded, “and to think that i actually promised my mom i’ll be marrying you” you chuckled in disbelief.

“looking back at that promise, i realize why you used to believe that promises are stupid” you added.

“i’m sorry” he apologized, “sorry isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

“y/n—“

“just get out, please” you were being nice, asking him to leave and pointing your hands to the door although he already knew where to go.

sunghoon didn’t want to bother you, he thought you’d probably relax in a day or two, and he’d be able to talk it out with you.

you can’t just erase all your feelings and delete all your memories after so many years, right?

as soon as he got out he went to the other kingdom, to finally get some sense into that stupid, useless king.

“park sunghoon! so nice to see you my son-in-law!” the king said and sunghoon only wanted to punch his face.

“wedding? with your daughter? son-in-law? you’re out of your fucking mind!” he spit out.

the king only laughed in his face, “why? wouldn’t you like to be my son? i’ll take good care of you”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “the deal is canceled, you won’t get any crown or another kingdom, fix whatever you did, you ruined my life anyway and you never even helped y/n’s mother”

“oh but i feel like i haven’t ruined your life enough”

“cut it off, we both know my kingdom will finish you once we’ll declare a war”

“what makes you think that?”

“i did” another voice was heard in the room.

sunghoon’s father stepped in and put his hand on sunghoon’s shoulder.

“and i’m afraid i also know too many secrets about you, old friend” he teased, “leave my son alone, and don’t you dare ruin his life again. he did a mistake asking for your help but he did what he had to do”

sunghoon’s father then dragged him out of the kingdom back to theirs.

right after sunghoon left your room, you went out to breathe and relax your brain a bit.

how could sunghoon do this to you? everything he ever said to you, every hug, every joke, was it all a lie to him?

there must be a reason behind it, but you’re too hurt to even care about it. no reason could be enough for you right now.

you decided to focus on being next to your mother, spending her last days together and showing her the brightest side of you, you didn’t tell her anything and she didn’t suspect anything so you just left it be.

three days passed ever since you last heard from sunghoon.

you miss him, you miss everything and anything about him. you needed his comfort the most right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see him.

“y/n, sunghoon is here to pay a visit” one of your servants informed you.

“tell him i don’t want to see him,” you sighed, “and tell him to take care” you whispered that line.

you refused to see him in any cost. you’re too angry to even care about his feelings right now. all you could feel is betrayal, and hurt.

in one of the next days, you went out to the garden to read some books and write on your diary.

when you got back inside the castle you saw your mother’s doctors standing with their heads down.

“we’re sorry your highness, we did everything we could” they said and couldn’t even make eye contact with you as their eyes were full with tears.

you froze there for a few minutes, you knew this day would come but could never prepare yourself enough for that. you didn’t want to believe this day would come so fast.

“please tell me i’m dreaming” you told them but they shook their heads, “we’re very sorry your—“

they got cut off when they saw you falling to the ground, sobbing and covering your eyes.

you were crying like a little child who lost their ice cream, refusing to get up and screaming at everything.

the last few days were just about you and her, she taught you everything you needed to know about life and royalty.

“you need to be a good wife to sunghoon!” she smiled.

“mom! he has to be a good husband before that!”

“you’re right! if he’s being mean tell him you’d leave him and take all of his money” she joked and you giggled.

“i don’t need money”

“you don’t, but you do need to annoy him and help him realize he’s nothing without you!”

all of those memories past by your mind all day, thinking about your dear mother, who was there for you when no one else was.

“who’s going to be by my side now, mom?” you asked quietly, “i already miss you so much”

it was dinner time in hybe’s kingdom, all seven brothers sat together with their parents.

“sunoo, we’ve found the perfect wife for you! you’re going to meet her at the ballroom on ni-ki’s birthday!! isn’t that exciting?” the queen clapped in excitement.

“yeah, very exciting!” sunoo tried to sound cheerful, but failed miserably in sunghoon’s eyes.

he pitied his younger brother for being the only one who’s being forced to someone he doesn’t even know.

sunoo explain multiple times to his parents that he wants to marry someone out of love, and that he believes that when it’s time, he’ll meet the one for him. but his parents turned deaf to his thoughts.

“i already met her once, she’s really pretty! the perfect pair for you!”

“your highness” a few servants came into the room and interrupted the dinner.

“is it important? we’re having dinner right now—“

“queen (name) of (name) kingdom is no longer with us” the servants lowered their heads as a respect and the king got up from his seat instantly.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, he was left speechless and froze in his place.

“we’ll be going to pay our respects tomorrow morning together, prepare yourselves” the king said and left the dining room.

sunghoon didn’t know what to do. it has already been a week and he’s been trying to reach out to you, but you rejected him every time.

he sent you letters but didn’t get any back. he was hopeless.

what is he supposed to do now? he didn’t even say his last goodbye to his mother-in-law.

the next day, you received loads of letters from loads of kingdoms, thanking the queen for her service and mourning her death.

hybe’s kingdom however, came personally to comfort you and the rest of your family.

the king and the queen, and six of their children. yes, only six of them. one of them was missing.

park sunghoon didn’t come to comfort you.

“we’re very sorry to hear the devastating news, the queen was the kindest soul we’ve ever got to meet” the king shook your father’s hands and pat his back.

the six sons came to you and hugged you. you hugged them back and broke down. the six sons already became your brothers long time ago, you felt safe around them.

“we’re sorry y/n, we’re here for you now” heeseung, the oldest one said with a comforting smile.

as much as you were thankful for them, you were hoping to see a certain person, a person who didn’t even bother showing up.

it only added up to your anger on him, how could he do that? what happened to always being there for you?

“sunghoon felt a bit sick and unwell today, he couldn’t get up from his bed, he really wanted to come” the queen smiled weakly at you and you returned the smile.

you spent the rest of the day with your six brothers, completely forgetting about your father and sister, they were here to comfort you and be with you.

“sunoo,” you called out, “hm?” he answered quietly.

“is sunghoon really sick?” you asked and he nodded, “i think the news about your mother caught him off guard, he couldn’t even speak after he heard the news”

you pressed your lips together and nodded, “please wish him well, i hope he’ll get better as soon as possible”

“i will do that” he smiled warmly at you.

just because you’re hurt by him, doesn’t mean you don’t care about him. he still holds a big place in your heart.

the next days passed by slowly, you spent most of your time in your room, sometimes even refusing to get out for a whole day.

sunghoon crossed your mind every day. your last words to him crossed your mind every day too.

you said you hate him, but you lied. you love him, you love him too much that it hurts.

you feel too betrayed and hurt by him but it’s somehow the last thing that interests you.

you just need to see him and hug him. but your ego wouldn’t let you.

so you waited for him to fight for you, you knew he’d try again, and again, and again, that’s just the person that he is.

after a while of isolating yourself in your room, you decided to get out and read some books.

that’s what your mom would want you to do, to move on and start a new life.

as you were reading your book, you heard a familiar voice calling you.

“y/n,” your heart skipped a beat. you were too scared to turn around and see the person you were so hoping to see for so long.

“please tell me you’re not who i think you are” you breathed slowly.

“i’m sorry” he let out.

you finally decided to turn around and you met his eyes. it’s been a while since you last saw him, you missed staring at his beautiful face, and his beautiful moles that made his face look ten times better, his kissable lips that always felt soft against yours, you missed everything about him.

“please,” he whispered, “please hear me out this time”

you blinked a few times, still not believing that he’s actually in front of you.

“you didn’t show up when i needed you the most, you betrayed me and lied to me, why would i listen to any of your excuses now?” you argued, but deep down you wanted to hear him so badly.

“y/n please” he pleaded, “just listen to what i have to say, and it’s up to you wether to believe it or not, just please, i don’t want us to break apart without you hearing the reason behind it”

you let out a few tears to fall and slowly nodded, he was right, you never let him to explain himself, you were too selfish and cared about your feeling that you didn’t even care about his.

he told you the whole story from the start, and you were sobbing your heart out.

“i’m sorry,” you let out, “i’m sorry for refusing to listen to you, i’m sorry for rejecting you so many times, i’m sorry for telling you that i hate you—“

“stop apologizing stupid,” he chuckled, “it’s over now isn’t it? we’re even now right?”

“it’s over now, promise me you won’t ever hide from me something like that again” you extended out your pinky.

“but you said that promises are stu—“

“not when it comes to you” you smiled.

instead of locking his pinky with you he cupped your face and pulled you into a kiss.

“i love you y/n, i’m sorry it took me a while to get back to you” he whispered.

“i love you too sunghoon, im sorry for rejecting you multiple times” you giggled.

“finally! get married already and leave this kingdom please!” you heard your sister in the back.

“i’m sorry that my sister can’t be a bit more like your brothers” you awkwardly smiled and sunghoon laughed.

“she’s right though, let’s get married as soon as possible and get our own kingdom” he pecked your lips.

“IN TWO DAYS??”

“well you said you wanted to get married as soon as possible! i already planned everything!” sunghoon’s mother smiled and hugged the both of you.

“can’t say i’m not biased, i’ve been shipping the two of you ever since you both met” the king added.

“are they gonna have babies as soon as possible now too?”

“NI-KI!!!!”

TAG-LIST ; @jaeneohee @hsgwrld @enhastolemyheart @enhacatalog @kaykay11sworld @ipoststuffandyeah @beomsbeanie @queestionmark @ineedsomezzz @yenqa @nshmrarki @asteriaskingdom @ikayyyyyy @mrchweeee @artiiistyxoo @6yulight @woncoree (bold means cannot be tagged)

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 (bold means cannot be tagged)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon drabbles #enhypen x reader

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callsignseagull · 1 year

Text

all you had to do was stay ✪ part 1

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Not much, honestly. maybe just a little angsty

A/N: Here’s part one!! I hope you like it! It's a little on the short side but hopefully there'll be more soon :))

feedback is always appreciated :)

series masterlist

You’re sitting at the dining table, scrolling through your emails with one hand while holding your toast in the other. You’ve become a pro at multitasking.

“Mommy? Do you think they have churros at that market Penny is taking me?” Your daughter is munching on a toast of her own, crumbs sticking to her cheeks.

“I’m sure.” You smile. “And I’m sure if you ask nicely, Penny will get some for you.”

She grins before taking another bite of her toast and you can’t help but reach over and give her a kiss. You can’t believe how fast she’s growing up. At now five years old, Josie is your entire world. As shocked and scared as you were when you found out about her, she’s the best thing that ever happened to you.

Turning back to your laptop, you flag the most important mails so you don’t forget to follow up on them later. The time before one of your books releases is always the most stressful, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. You got so lucky.

You wrote and illustrated your first children’s book while being pregnant with Josie, it gave you something to distract yourself from all the changes you were going through. And then you posted about it online, it went sort of viral and then a publisher reached out to you. The book was an immediate success. It’s been translated in several different languages and they even make stuffed toys and board games based on your characters now.

And now you’re about to release the fifth book in the series. It’s hard to churn one out every year, but you’re scared that if you drop the ball, all you’ve worked for will be ripped from you. You want to give Josie the best life possible, so you work your ass off.

When both of you are finished with breakfast, you clean up the table and tell Josie to put her shoes on. As you slip into your own shoes, you whistle for Muffin, the four year old poodle mix you adopted from a rescue last year, and he comes trotting around the corner moments later.

After checking you’ve got everything you lock the front for behind you, hold your free hand out for Josie to take, the other holding Muffin’s leash. Then, the three of you take on the short walk towards the Hard Deck.

Penny Benjamin has been a life saver these last few years, throughout your pregnancy and beyond. She’s been there for you whenever you needed her, day or night. You don’t know what you would’ve done without her. And now she’s somewhat of a grandma figure for Josie, and she’s probably the hottest grandma ever. Her and Amelia are the closest thing you and Josie have to a family, besides each other.

Today, Penny is taking Josie to a Food Market while you look after the bar for a couple hours. It’s still early and not many people will be there, but you’re glad you can help Penny out while still getting some work done for yourself.

“There’s my favourite little family!” Penny greets, as you enter the Hard Deck, her arms wide and Josie immediately runs towards her and into her arms.

“Hi Penny! I’m so excited! Are you excited? Do you think they’ll have churros?” Josie rambles with glistening eyes, her dimples on show and for a moment you’re reminded of how much she looks like her father. You manage to push thoughts of him to the back of your mind most days but sometimes you just look at her and all you can see is him.

You haven’t tried reaching out to him again. You know you should’ve. But it felt wrong sending him a text telling him he’ll be a father. And you doubted that he even wanted to be a father. So you decided you’d spare yourself, and your daughter, the heartache. Josie hasn’t asked about her father much, but when she did you told her that he’s a pilot in the Navy and that he loves her. You never want her to feel like she’s not wanted.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Jake knew he’d come back eventually. He just didn’t know it would take him so long. But if he was being honest with himself he knew that if it wasn’t for him being called back to Top Gun for some top secret mission he still wouldn’t have had the guts to come back here. Hell, he’s been living only a few hours north from here for the past couple of years. He easily could’ve made the drive down. But he’d always been good at coming up with excuses. But now he couldn’t. Not when he’s in the same city for the next few months. He’d constantly be looking for you. Seeing you in every face that just slightly resembled yours. He didn’t even know if you still lived in San Diego, though. But going to the Hard Deck seemed like the logical thing to do. Even if you weren’t working there anymore, Penny Benjamin might know where to find you.

As soon as he enters the bar he’s hit with nostalgia. Nothing has changed. He takes a look around and pretends he’s the six years younger version of himself, still naive enough to think that nothing will ever rattle him.

Since it’s still the early afternoon it’s not busy and there seems to be no one behind the bar right now. With a deep sigh he sits down in one of the barstools, then notices someone crouched down behind the bar, looking for something in a cabinet.

His breath catches in his throat. It can’t be.

He hasn’t seen you in six years, and even though he can’t see your face right now, he knows it’s you. He can feel it.

Now he really feels like he’s been transported back six years in time. You haven’t noticed him yet and he can’t hold back the words that are going through his head.

“Can you pinch me? Because I can’t believe you’re real. I thought I was dreaming.” He knows it’s a bit of a dick move, throwing his first thing he ever said to you at you now. But maybe you’re not as mad at him as he thinks? What if you don’t even remember him? He hadn’t thought about that. Fuck.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

You almost hit your head when you spin around towards him. This can’t be real.

“What are you doing here?” You must look like you’ve seen a ghost, but it honestly feels like that. He looks the same but he doesn’t. He’s filled out more, even though you never thought it possible. And he just looks overall more mature. It suits him.

“What am I doing here in San Diego or what am I doing here at the Hard Deck?” He tilts his head, a small smile on his face. You don’t grace that with an answer, he knows what you mean. The smile slowly drops from his face, and there’s a seriousness in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to look away. “I was hoping to find you here.”

“Why?”

“I want to apologise.”

That makes you straighten up. Apologise? After six years?

“I was an absolute asshole to you and you didn’t deserve that. I was going through a rough time and I took all that out on you. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I just left without saying goodbye. I got called on a mission right after graduation and when I got back I figured you didn’t wanna talk to me ever again.”

His words take your breath away for a moment. Never in a million years did you think you’d get an apology from Jake.

“I-,” you stop, wringing your hands together. At a loss for words.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He smiles softly. “I’m in town for a while. Maybe we could … I don’t know … hang out sometime? Catch up?”

As much as you want to protect your heart and tell him no, you know you have to catch him up on what happened after he left. It’s not right to keep him in the dark now that he’s here. You know that.

“You don’t have to answer me now. Take some time to think about it. I’m sure you’re busy, with your books being such a success. And you’re still working at the bar?” He looks curious and you’re a little shocked.

“I’m just helping Penny out for a couple hours. You know about my books?”

“My nieces love them.” He grins. “I have to read them to them before bed every time I’ve got time to visit them down in Texas.”

“You’ve got nieces?”

“Yeah, they’re two and four. Love them to death. My Mom’s been begging for grandkids for years and she’s so happy to dote on them every chance she gets.”

Your heart constricts. Two and four. They’re younger than Josie. Not only does she have cousins somewhere in Texas, she’s also the first grandchild to a woman who’s never met her. Who doesn’t even know about her. But you don’t know much about Jake’s parents. Maybe she wouldn’t be the biggest fan of a child out of wedlock.

You glance at Jakes hand. No ring.

You muster up the courage to your next question. You know the answer might hurt, but you have to ask him.

“Any kids of your own?”

Jake shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not that I know of.”

It’s just a joke but you feel like it makes your heart stop before it starts beating rapidly in your chest. This is it. There’s no better moment than now. Just get it over with.

“Jake, I-“

“Mommy!” Josie comes barreling through the door, Penny a few steps behind her. “Penny let me have Churros and they were delicious!” She wraps her arms around you and looks up at you with her sparkling green eyes.

Maybe you don’t even have to tell him. You glance at Jake and he looks a bit taken aback.

“Yeah, honey? Did you have fun?”

“So much fun!” She grins, showing off her deep dimples, and you run a hand over her head before giving her a kiss. You manage to look at Penny, who’s glaring at Jake. It takes all your courage to look at him. He doesn’t even seem to notice Penny, his eyes focused on the girl in your arms. You can’t read the expression on his face, has he already realised how much she looks like him?

“Well, I guess I don’t have to ask you if you have any.” He smiles, his lips tight, then looks at your daughter and his smile turns more genuine. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Hearing the term of endearment again makes goosebumps raise on your skin.

“Josie.” She’s not a shy kid, so you’re not surprised when she looks at him curiously and asks, “Who are you?”

Your grip tightens around her but before you can say anything he replies, “I’m an old friend of your Mom.”

You shoot him a really? look but he just shrugs his shoulders. Well, you guess it is inappropriate to tell your five-year-old daughter that he used to fuck your brains out.

“Thanks for helping out.” Penny says, “Both of you.” She winks at Josie.

Muffin comes trotting around the corner and Josie let’s go of you to throw her arms around the poodle mix. “I missed you!” While Muffin covers your daughter’s face in slobber, Jake huffs out a laugh.

“A dog, too, huh?”

You shrug your shoulders, not sure what to say to that.

“Does the house have a picket fence?” It’s a bit of a loaded question, you think, but you don’t read too much into it and reply truthfully, thinking about the little house you put a down payment on a couple years ago.

“It does.”

Jake rubs his chest and gives you that tight lipped smile again. “I’m happy for you.”

He means it, you can tell. “Thanks, Jake.”

He gets up from his seat at the bar, knocks on the wood a couple times then says. “Your husband is one lucky guy.” Another tight lipped smile.

“My wha-?”

“I’ll see you around.” He nods then turns on his heel and before you can comprehend what just happened he’s gone.

“Mommy, why did he say your husband? You don’t have one of those.”

“I don’t know, honey.”

You watch him cross the parking lot to his car and it dawns on you that he thinks that all your dreams came true: become a full time illustrator, fall in love, get married, adopt a dog, buy a little house, have kids.

Little does he know that you fell in love with him, had his kid, and did all of the rest on your own.

taglist: @annathesillyfriend ✪ @lovebittenbyevans ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ✪ @one-sweet-gubler ✪ @emorychase ✪ @wooya1224 ✪ @novagreen04 ✪ @iammirrorball ✪ @lolcaca ✪ @caitsymichelle13 ✪ @soulmates8 ✪ @soleilgrec ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy ✪ @winters-queen ✪ @i0veless ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae ✪ @mandyppp ✪ @dempy ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @lumpypoll ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274 ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58 ✪ @hangmanscoming ✪ @caidi-paris ✪ @linkpk88 ✪ @djs8891 ✪ @xomrsalliej4787xo ✪ @lnmp89 ✪ @startrekfangirl2233 ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @merishfit ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @sky0401 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill ✪ @roostersforevergirl ✪ @celestialeviereads ✪ @blackwidownat2814 ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp ✪ @atarmychick007 ✪ @dakotakazansky ✪ @fulla02 ✪ @alana4610 ✪ @callsignwidow ✪ @memoriesat30 ✪ @ebonyhogan24

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin imagine

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easy-there-leftovers · 7 months

Text

I See You, Darling (2)

[Astarion x reader] Due to surprisingly overwhelming demand, the previous fic, along with this one and many more to follow, will now be part of a series!! It was honestly very difficult trying to come up with what happens next, but here we are. The idea came to me during a fever!! |Word count: 2.5k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 1 here!!

Next part here!!

The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Alternatively;An ex-art-student-now-traveler accustoms themselves to the party.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

“Shadowheart. Shadow…heart. Hm.” His gaze bounced between you and her.

“I’m sure her parents meant well, but the name is rather ominous, isn’t it?” He leaned over to your side, not bothering to hide his blatant distrust. Lowering his voice dramatically, if anything.

“Unless she chose it herself. Which is even more worrying, honestly.” He chuckled out.

It had been no more than two bells after mornbright when you met Astarion. Since then, you’ve come to realize how…different your presence has changed the course of the story. Though more subtle than you expected.

It would seem as if you had met the elven vampire before the party was formed, which was strange as your last save point was far later than that and the forest had been quite a long way from the beach.

When you finally stumbled upon Shadowheart, he was quick to share his inner thoughts that you haven’t heard from the game before.

As they continued with their quest to find a cure for the Illithid problem, expanding their party as they did so, you had tried to make yourself useful by doing the dirty work for them. Looting and opening crates filled with camp supplies, armor, and potentially useful weapons and artifacts could always come in handy for trade or for “artifact consumption,” as per Gale’s need. Sorting them for your group’s convenience.

And while you did not have more direct and immediate practical use for your course of study in the modern world, the research you’ve created and reviewed for character creation and world building was doing wonders for your survival.

Or as much as it can for a magicless, not so athletic human.

The “runes” of the medieval ages that have been carved into stone, along with the basic history and background of the common races and deities of the fantastical world that tabletop RPG has offered puts you at quite an advantage.

Not to mention your experience with the areas of the game giving you the same effect.

But this library of information had also aroused something akin to suspicion and concern. It would be understandable if you were a simple traveler just like them, or perhaps even an artisan from the guild, but you were not as astute as either background.

So how could you have access to this much knowledge yet be unaware of more practical matters? It’s as if you had simply read about it from somewhere.

Astarion had been quick to give an explanation before you could form one of your own that could poorly convince your companions. Although, perhaps his suggestion was more outlandish than anything you could have come up with.

“They came with me. Property and all the formality that comes with it. A family pet, if you will.” A perfect excuse to justify your constant proximity to him, and a likely explanation to being well read, but not well experienced.

You thought nothing of the title, your apathy to the non-hazardous labels of this world apparent.

The same couldn’t have been said about your associates who had a few comments about this disclosure.

“I am unfamiliar with the–well, I shall not say ‘culture.’ ‘Customs’, perhaps. I did not think your kind to house such breed of cattle. Perhaps they could be useful.” Was Lae’zel’s.

“I assure you, they typically don’t. Humans aren’t naturally subservient to Elves, at least in this manner. This setup sounds more akin to slavery. Blink twice if you need help.” Was Gale’s response.

“It seems like Astarion's from the upper city, given the embroidery on his armor. I wouldn’t put it past them to have servants that follow them around.” Shadowheart’s nose crinkled at the thought.

The party already had such an interesting rapport. Not entirely comfortable with one another to divulge everything, but loose enough to have semi-pleasant conversation with.

You thought this as you sorted out the fruits of your collective labor into neat pouches and bags, keeping items similar to one another factioned into their respective holding space. The chest being closer to Withers more than you’d like, but it was nice to hear the ramblings of an…undead person? Hearing someone continuously talking allows you to be more productive.

You’ll admit, handling enchanted armor and crystals does make you a tad nervous but you’re comforted by the thought that it will not be you who wields it in battle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale approaching your direction. Possibly to ask for his share of the camp supplies just a little earlier to sate himself as you had an abundance of it for now. You regard him with your back turned and he stops for a bit.

“I will say that I don’t have the lightest of feet, but I figured myself better at sneaking around.” It’s not his fault that he got caught, but the bright purple robe and the smell of the oils you’ve been crafting for them are particularly noticeable.

“You are, but I’ll assume you're not exactly in the best shape after dealing with a few goblins.” You hold up a bottle of a healing potion, swinging it a bit with your fingers to indicate that the smell had warned you of his arrival.

“You’ve got a keen nose on you. Must be from all of Astarion’s training but, speaking of which,” He nears himself to your crouched form, going in to lean against a very old and empty crate.

“Gale, wait–” Right as your warning leaves you, they seem to evade him as falls right through the wood. A comical layer of dust and lichen pluming out from the force. He tries to quickly recover from both the physical and emotional damage as he brushes himself off to make himself presentable once more.

“Ahem, as I was saying,” He again makes his way over to you, settling for just standing close as his attempts to look unbothered temporarily cost him his ego.

“I was serious about what I said before. While I don’t know what to make of our pallid friend just yet, as enigmatic as he is, what he said before is quite confusing. Best make haste away from here if you want your freedom while we’re distracted with this worm problem.” His tone suggests a genuine concern which confuses you.

You’d be lying to yourself if the label of the set up didn’t sound odd, but you’ve never expressed discomfort as there was nothing all too worrying about it on your end. It was mostly for show, and you had as much independence as Tav would have in your game.

You endeavor to quickly dispel his worries.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m very satisfied with my servitude under Astarion. He’s very lenient and reliable, and I’m better off with him than on my own." You return to your task of sifting through your materials but pause and look back up at him to continue.

"I do thank you for turning my way though. Your concern is much appreciated but unnecessary.” You lowered your head a bit to show your thanks.

“Well if someone as generous as yourself says to trust you on this, then I have no choice but to concede! I’ll keep a watchful eye and offer guidance, should you need it. Also, do we happen to have something for—” As he asks you for some sort of salve, just a few ways off, your eccentric “handler,” of sorts, watches the two of you interact.

Don’t get him wrong, such matters don’t really catch his attention, but being an elf does curse him with the ability to have extensive hearing. Something that he thinks Gale knew, and something you forgot. That would explain the lack of distance between you two.

He thinks it’s amusing how the wizard is trying to make conversation with you as if you were some foreign creature. His usual eloquence nowhere to be seen, and you seemed as unbothered as ever. Like how he usually saw you when you conversed with someone through a crystal.

It was a phone, not that he knew that though.

“They’re a real nice one, aren’t they?” Karlach says from her side of the camp which was nearer towards his tent and yours.

“Hm, yes. While that may be an admirable trait, it’s hardly going to get them anywhere if they keep this up.” Astarion huffed out, not very keen on your altruistic playstyle so far.

He doesn’t know much about what you do and don’t know, all he knows is that you do know of the events to unfold and could be the key to defeating his master.

All he needs is to keep you at his side. So he’ll allow you this much freedom.

“Oh come on, you. You can’t seriously think that after everything. Our camp’s pretty well maintained because of ‘em, not to mention the connections we’ve been able to get!” She fortifies her statement by knocking on her chest, the engine humming within feels lighter and newer since you’ve informed her of the tiefling blacksmith at the grove.

He hums in response, returning to reading his book as he thinks about his growing hunger. He’ll have to hunt soon enough. While your positive reputation occasionally reflects on him by proxy, it can also reflect negatively due to the alleged nature of your relationship. If he wants the journey to a way of understanding the tadpoles to be a more comfortable one, he has to at least prevent their trust in him from diminishing.

Night falls later than he’d have liked, having waited for everyone to be asleep so that he may prowl the forest for sustenance.

The rest were sound asleep in their bedroll as the skirmish from earlier on in the day had proven to be sufficiently tiring. The crackling fire surely brings a lulling warmth that he supposes he’ll have to miss out on for a while.

As he begins to slink off into the darkness, he looks back to gauge his surroundings and catches your form from across the settlement. It seems you were tallying away the items in the shared chest and double-checking to see that everything is checked and balanced with your records.

Your shoulders jump at his suddenly standing form, but try to understand his intentions. You mouth, “where?” with a very confused face, to which he responds with a simple shushing motion and waits for your acknowledgement.

You nod slowly, and he holds your gaze before sneaking off once again.

‘He’s coming back, right?’ You wondered. The progression of your experience now in comparison to the game was vastly different, and you didn’t know if all scenes, or only some, would present themselves in this world. You assume he planned to hunt, and while you trust his abilities, you want to make sure he’s attended to properly should he be harmed in any way.

So after retrieving a few potions, a journal, and a pencil, you stashed them in a satchel and positioned yourself at the base of the tree in the direction he left in. You weren’t particularly sleepy tonight, and planned to pass the time in wait of your companion.

There wasn’t much to do in this century to keep yourself entertained. The only things you’ve found so far were a few instruments and all manners of journals and inks.

The inkpot that you picked up appeared to be red this time. The game of, “which ink dye will I get this time?” will have to be the most of your entertainment for now. Not all too different from home, you suppose. And while writing keeps your mind at bay, illustrating all manners of wildlife have proven to be quite the fun exercise.

You’ve made a few notes on creatures that you and your company have encountered. The visual elements of a drawing allowed you and the others to keep track of materials that could be salvaged from them, and their resistances to certain attacks.

Though as much as you liked depicting such lifeforms in paper, you’ve come to be very interested in portraying your vampire friend.

Evidence of your interest present in the pages filled with his likeness as you search for an unmarked page. You’ve made a few of the others, yes, but anyone who would gain access to your journal would surely see which member of the group you favor more.

You continued to draw, and occasionally write, on the parchment as you waited for Astarion to come back. All sense of time evading you as you focus on the task at hand.

A perfect opportunity for a tired rogue to surprise an unsuspecting human.

“And what are you still doing up, little one?” He appears from behind the very tree you rested against, causing you to spill a bit of ink on your thumb.

You clicked your tongue, not at all annoyed by the character but by your absentmindedness and now stained appendage.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” You sealed the inkpot, and gathered your materials. Effectively, but unknowingly, hiding your work from peering eyes that were the same deep red as your finger.

“I’m very flattered, darling. But couldn’t you wait until morning? I'm sure this couldn’t have been all too important, yes?” He gestures to your satchel, referring to your journal, but you misinterpreted it as him asking for your medical supplies.

“Oh, that depends. Are you hurt, by any chance? I stayed awake in case you might've needed help tending to yourself.” You opened the pouch to reveal its contents to him, your stained thumb in full view.

The sight makes him sigh out, but is thankful for your offered service.

“I’m alright, nothing of interest happened while I was away.” He considers telling you about the nature of his little…'escapade.' He's unaware if you are of his condition, and he doesn’t wish to out himself if not necessary to avoid possible conflict. So he settles for advising you to rest.

“We need you well rested, my dear. You sleep. I’ll keep watch.” The dialogue is familiar, and you can’t stop yourself from letting a small laugh out as you responded with an equally familiar line

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for that.” You lower your head as you usually do in gratitude.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He mirrors your gesture, albeit in a way that is most appropriate for someone of his character. “Sweet dreams.”

You walked back to the chest. Returning the potions and ink you’ve plucked from the supply, but keeping the rest of the pouch’s materials with you as you turn in for the night. Awaiting the promise of further study that a new day typically makes.

As Astarion is left with his own thoughts, a sour taste still in his mouth from his earlier meal, he thinks about the man in the journal you kept. He did not see much, only a vague outline of the figure. He thinks about who, or what, it could have been but dismisses the thought rather quickly.

He has no time for a mysterious person with hair less perfect than his own, touching his untainted locks as he does.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you everyone for your interest in the series!! As per the request of some, I'll now be adding a taglist!

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, and @tiannamortis for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x mc #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader isekai(?)#aware!astarion #though I guess not so aware--#lol

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cereovo · 8 months

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A set of very conceptual notes I drafted a while back for someone asking for advice on learning to draw humans. I'm entirely self-taught so this is less of a tutorial and more of a very rambling set of general principles I follow and ideas that helped while I was learning. I figured I'd post it in case anyone else could get use out of it!

I also recommend checking out:

Drawing East Asian Faces by Chuwenjie

How to Think When you Draw (lots of good tutorials in this series)

Pose reference sites such as Adorkastock

Transcript and some elaboration under the cut:

Img 1 - Drawing a face

The two most important elements (at least for me) when drawing a face are the outline of the cheek/jaw and the nose*. I often start with a circle to indicate the round part of the skull, then add a straight like and a 'V' to one side [to create the side of the face and the jaw]. The nose creates an easy template for the rest of the face's features to follow (eyebrows at the top of the nose bridge, eyes towards the center of the bridge, ear lines up to eye) and the placement/direction and overlap with other features is a very simple way to indicate dimension. [A sketch of a face that has been adjusted by moving its parts to create 3 different angles. The following text is underneath:] -Different 3/4th views can be created just by adjusting the position of and amount of overlap between the facial features. - The top of the ear usually lines up with the corner of the eye. Think of how glasses are designed [specifically, how the arms run from the eyeline to the ear] [I go on a tangent in these next few paragraphs] *One thing I see many artists do - not just beginners - is learn how to draw A Person. As in, one singular person with one set of bodily proportions and one set of facial features. It's an issue that runs a bit deeper than 'same face syndrome' because sometimes these artists can draw more than one face, they're just not very representative of [the diversity present across] real people. Part of the reason I'm talking more about how to think about approaches to drawing - rather than showing specific how-to's - is because there is no one correct or right way to draw a person. The sooner you allow yourself to explore variety - fat people, old people, people of color, people with [conventionally] 'unattractive' features - the easier it'll be! Artists often draw their own features honestly and without [harmful] caricature, so it's always a good idea to look at art made by the kinds of people you're trying to draw if you're ever unsure about how to handle something. In general, it's far more important to learn how to interpret a variety of forms than to learn how to replicate the Platonic Ideal of the Human Body.

Img 2 - Stuff that helped me

Jumping into drawing humans (faces or otherwise) straight from photo reference can be overwhelming. The trick is to simplify forms into shapes - but even this concept is sort of abstract and it may be hard to know where to begin. Good news - Thousands of other artists have already figured it out. [When starting out] I needed to learn from photo reference AND artists I admired in order to improve. [When looking at stylization you are inspired by] ask yourself: WHY does this simplification work? How can I translate it into a different pose? Instead of copying what you see in a photo reference exactly, try to focus on the general forms first. My two biggest style inspirations for humans while learning to draw them were Steven Universe and Sabrina Cotugno's art. SU gets a lot of hate [in this instance I was specifically referring to a time on tumblr when the art was knocked for 'losing quality'] but its style does a great job of simplifying anatomy in a way that still portrays a diversity of bodies + features. [Extremely simplified drawings of Lapis, Steven, and Amethyst] SU characters are still identifiable- and still read as 'human' - even when reduced to just a few lines!

Img 3 - Things I keep in mind while drawing side profiles

- Eyebrows + eyes close to the 'edge' of the face - Forehead needs enough room for a brain - Eye is > shaped from the sides - Mouth kinda halfway [between the nose and the chin] but closer to the nose - Skin/fat exists under the jaw [and connects to the neck] - neck is about one half the width of the whole head - the back of the skull always sticks out a bit further than you might expect - Sometimes less is more - contours exist on every face, but drawing them in may make your character seem much older than they're supposed to be. However, it's a good idea to use them when you *want* your character to look old! These are very general notes- every face is different and has different proportions [and playing around with them creates unique and interesting character designs]

#2023 #may 2023 #i realized this is pretty nonsensical while transcribing it LOL #feel free to send asks if anything is unclear #but again im not any sort of professional

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celtic-crossbow · 19 days

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Blood Ties Chapter 23

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.

The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.

“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”

“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”

“Touche, sir.”

All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.

You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden.

The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay.

“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.

“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly.

“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.

“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.

“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.

“S’your favorite color?”

You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.

“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.

“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”

He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.

You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.

“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”

“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.

“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”

“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice.

“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”

“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.

“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”

“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”

“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?

“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.

“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.

“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.

“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.

“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”

He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break?

“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”

He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.

The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.

“Why you what?”

“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”

“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”

He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.

“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”

Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.

“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.” You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.

The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.

“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”

“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.

“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.”

You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.

Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.

The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.

“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.

You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.

“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.

He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.

Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back.

“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”

Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.

“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”

And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.

When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.

Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.

You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.

“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.

“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fluff #pregnant!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead

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monkey-network · 14 days

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Good Stuff: Bluey's The Sign

Bluey is still great and I don't need to go into why again. What's most important is that even in such short time of knowing this cartoon, you can see the growth of it all. Joe and the crew share how the world of the Heeler family gets to learn, adapt, and grow without rapidly warping the status quo. You go through and see how everyone is able to work through rough and weird times with sincere maturity. Season 3's Finale is where this all comes to a head and it's as beautiful as I expected, MORESO.

Brandi got to be happy would've been enough for me

The Sign deals with the idea of hard ideas. Those hard ideas that aren't inherently about change, but issues that when faced with initially, it feels like a bad ending. A bad ending which can't be easily fixed and you don't know where to go from there, and it hurts. It hurts when hard ideas swoop in, ruins your mood, festers your mind, and leaves you aimless. Bluey shows that it happens, this is the rare time where a ton of crap hits the fan in one day and it's not something Chili or Bandit or any adult can fix right away. I've never experienced this, but I felt the pain Bluey, Bingo, Frisky, and Chili went through where they're bargaining, burying, and avoiding confronting a potential reality they didn't want. This is where the real hero of the special comes in...

Haven't said before, but Calypso is a masterful teacher

The parable of the farmer works as an incredible seedling thought for Bluey when she reveals her moving. It's not a story I ever heard, but known the message all too well. The message of not just accepting bad things that happen to you, but know that it'll never be the end of the world because of them. Don't think of it as deep, but a natural motif to grow with. This is where a debacle regarding the episode churns with me. It can seem like a cop-out that every character gets what they wanted by the end, as I said before the cartoon can be more idealistic than what our real life allows. Then again, the true beauty of Bluey I believe has always been if it's possible, the family will find a way and do it responsibly.

If happiness can be achieved, they'll know how to get it

Beyond all this, the special is great. They waste no minute here in art and storytelling, and as said before, it's like Smash Bros Ultimate where everything is here. There are great callbacks to episodes you probably wouldn't have thought about, on top of getting to see the whole Heeler family on Chili and Bandit's sides like that blew my mind. Plus I love seeing weddings, dude, like I wish I was there with them. The feels are tsunami-ous like it's unfair to say this is the all-time best episode of the show, but darn if it wouldn't be earned.

When else will I see the epicness of riding shotgun?

But to conclude, it's been said that after this the Ludo crew will take a indefinite hiatus from Bluey the series, especially when they have a new project underway. And honestly? I'm more than satisfied. The show could've ended here and I would've been somewhat at peace with them giving us this beautiful episode. I of course didn't get into this series since its beginning, but I came around the right time to enjoy it myself, to see others recognize its greatness, and to finally make it here. It's great to know this was only another chapter in the book, and I'll see to be around when it gets to come back. As for The Sign? What else is there to say?

It was Beautiful. Cheers to the crew for everything.

#Bluey #bluey cartoon #bluey the sign #the sign #cartoons #reviews #Good Stuff #long post

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talesofesther · 1 year

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scorch marks | ch 1

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: Wednesday has been careful to keep what you two have behind closed doors and far away from labels; but when someone starts to take it — take you — away from her, she realizes how much she cares.

Requested by anons: one, two, and three.

A/N: Yes, I combined three requests here. It was a bit of a challenge to make these requests and keep Wednesday in character, but I truly hope I'm doing an okay job; let me know. <3

Masterlist

You're drowning in a sea of lavender.

There's a mix of dust there too, given the forgotten shelves, brooms, and crates of the small storage room, but her perfume still fills your nostrils. It gets you thinking of white and purple orchids under a midnight moon.

Maybe too soft for Wednesday Addams. But what is she now, if not soft?

Her lips, plush and purposeful against yours, leave tiny smudges of burgundy lipstick on the corner of your mouth every time she pulls away to gasp for air. Her hands, cold and precise, keep your body in place; one grasping onto your jacket, the other disappearing beneath it, leaving goosebumps on your hip in its wake. Her bangs brush against your forehead when she tilts her head, so close it gets you shivering.

There's a delicacy to her that shouldn't be there but is anyway. So could she blame you? For associating her with everything beautiful and enchanting in the world?

You bring a hand up to her jaw as you hear the commotion outside, telling you that it's time to go. And you think to yourself; just one more minute.

Wednesday is the first to pull away, slowly as her blown pupils travel down to your reddish lips and back up to your eyes. She gulps, setting her jaw into something sharp as her chin angles up. The fingertips that had been touching your waist let go in a lazy motion.

Her hair is a bit of a mess and it's your fault — the light is dim in the small room, casting an orange glow that makes you squint to see — you make to tuck it behind her ear, but she takes half a step away from you as if abruptly waking up from a dream.

You're familiar with her, honestly, in such a way you never thought you would be. Even before the whole deal with the Hyde attacks and Crackstone, your relationship with Wednesday had a constant push and pull; as the tides do with the shells that rest too close to shore. You didn't know exactly where you stood with her when she said you were nothing but an inconvenience in her mystery, but came running when Thornhill shot you; all wobbly chin and glistening eyes, repeating like a mantra that you weren't allowed to close your eyes — you didn't see her for two months after that, and when the classes came back, it took one more month for her to steal her first kiss with you. That was three weeks ago.

With a careful thumb, Wednesday cleaned the smudged lipstick below her lower lip. Your eyes followed the movement as you stuffed your hands in your pockets. For some reason it got you smiling, faintly so.

"Don't come out right after me." Was all Wednesday told you before reaching for the door handle.

You snapped out of your daze; "but I have to go-" the door slammed as she walked outside, her footsteps mingling with all the others, "to class too." You finished in a lower tone to yourself.

Wednesday walked briskly through Nevermore's hallways, not once looking back while she put as much distance between her and her demise as she could. Being alone — as alone as one could be in a school filled with outcasts — was such a desperation that she only noticed her missing backpack when she was already halfway to class.

She came to a sudden halt, her boots scratching the stone floor and causing a couple of gorgons to almost topple over her, but she didn't move an inch. With a side gaze, Wednesday glanced behind her. There were no familiar faces in the crowd, but she caught herself looking for one.

If her parents could see her now, they wouldn't believe their eyes. Maybe they'd be happy, that she's finally forging relationships. But could it be a good thing? Is the constant twisting and turning of her stomach a good thing? Is it healthy that, most nights as she lays in her bed, she spends the minutes before sleep thinking about it?

What does it mean, that ever since Wednesday came back to this school after saving it, a new character has been introduced in her novel; and with each page that's filled in her typewriter, she gets closer to Viper?

No one got Wednesday feeling the way she did when she was with you. Not even Tyler, and she kissed him; so was it bad that she's been doing the same with you? A big part of her screamed yes, the other, not so much. And those two wolves inside her chest were still fighting.

Wednesday could recall in detail the first time she kissed you; of course, it's not even been a month yet. But she fears that even if it had been years, decades, the memory would still be intact.

She remembers that Eugene had gone away to pick something up, leaving only you and her in the bee shed. You had been rambling about a new small group of bees you recently rescued and how they now needed a new Queen; you just kept talking and talking, until the words became background noise and the fluttering of your lashes seemed almost in slow motion. Wednesday had been inching closer yet neither of you noticed, not until she ended up with one hand behind your neck, her lips doing quick work of shutting you up.

To this day she's not sure why she did it. But there was this force, this annoying pull to you that got her chest hurting if she didn't comply. The pain was almost as forceful as the one she felt with the sight of your abdomen oozing blood from the bullet wound, with the dropping of a single tear when she imagined herself wearing black in your honor.

You got her breaking her own rules, you became her favorite secret and sin, because Wednesday was quick to get addicted to the thrill of it. One kiss turned into two, that turned into three, until behind every closed door she left scorch marks in her own cold heart.

She never put a name to it, and you didn't either. It was never discussed what was happening between you two, and Wednesday liked it this way. What's not set in stone can't come back to hurt her, or break her trust.

There was only one problem though. Little sparks of flame in the moments that got Wednesday's skin filling with goosebumps. It was the way you traced the outline of her lips with your thumb, gentle as if she'd break in your hold; the pulse of her own heart in her ears when her body was glued to yours; the brief look you get in your eyes as soon as she pulls away, as if she hung up the goddamn moon. Those are the things that swing too close to reality, too close to inflicting damage, and got her blood running cold. They remind Wednesday why emotions come with a price, and why she needs to keep her distance.

Ultimately, Wednesday decides that she doesn't need her backpack anyway.

—

You get to the anatomy class ten minutes late. The door creaks when you open it, causing everyone to look at you. You grimace, mumbling an apology through pursed lips.

There's a skeleton of a werewolf in a large print over the board, beside it there's a smaller one of a gorgon and then a vampire, and so on. Though anatomy is not your favorite subject, this is one of your favorite classrooms, it has huge windows on one side and most of them have an array of plants enjoying the sunlight that shines there. The teacher — an older, kind woman with a light blue dress — is separating small cutouts of paper in a bowl, mixing them up together, and it reminds you that today will be the draw of subjects for your assignment.

You walk quietly between the tables of your colleagues, carrying your bag over your shoulder and Wednesday's black leather backpack in your hands.

Her dark eyes shift to you when you stop beside her. You smile something shy, dropping her backpack by her feet before you walk over to your table and sit down. Wednesday shows no reaction to it other than the way she follows you with her eyes, but you don't mind, quickly diving into conversation with your partner in class, Yoko.

You and Yoko have been thick as thieves since you came to Nevermore three years ago, she was the first one you befriended; Enid came right after, but Yoko was still the one you partnered with in most classes.

Right now you dug your teeth into your lower lip as you fished for one of the folded papers the teacher had in the bowl, and when you picked up the one that read vampire, you couldn't help but squeal in happiness. It was one of the easiest ones to work with.

Wednesday watched with hawk eyes as you smiled big, your hand grabbing onto Yoko's arm when you showed her the subject of your assignment.

There was a pink pencil being twirled between Wednesday's fingers, her black nails scraping its color each time she huffed angrily. Her jaw was clenched, almost painfully so; because the girl with the round sunglasses shouldn't be leaning this close to you. When Yoko's hand covered your own — her thumb gingerly brushing over your knuckles as her fangs appeared in her smirk — the pencil Wednesday held in her hand snapped in half with a sharp sound.

"Hey!" Enid swatted at Wednesday's shoulder, pouting as she looked down at the now-ruined pink pencil, "that was one of my favorites."

Wednesday let go of it, letting both parts roll on the table; "it's just a piece of wood, Enid," she grumbled.

"Yeah well, it was my piece of wood," Enid's eyebrows had an annoyed crease to them, her lower lip jutted out as she looked at Wednesday, "what's got you grumpier than usual?"

Wednesday let out an indignant scoff, forcing her eyes away from you because each time you touched Yoko, her murderous intent grew, though she wouldn't admit or acknowledge it yet. She was above such trivial feelings — or so she hoped. "I'm not grumpy, Enid," she said pointedly, picking up a paper from the bowl without looking at it, "just felt like breaking something."

Enid's sudden giddy gasp got Wednesday flinching slightly, the folded paper being snatched from her hands before she even fully opened it.

"Oh yes, we got werewolves! That's me." The blonde took hold of Wednesday's shoulder, shaking her slightly, "this is going to be so much fun."

Wednesday huffed sharply, her bangs going side to side because of Enid's excitement. Her gaze shifted to you against her own volition and she was met with you already looking at her; it got her straightening on her seat, her hands fisting the fabric of her skirt. But a hand touched your shoulder, and you turned away promptly.

Your cheeks molded all prettily around your smile, and Wednesday watched as you put a hand in your heart, making a silly show of bowing to Yoko — as best as you could sitting so damn close to her.

It made no sense to Wednesday that her chest felt hollow; that she had the sudden urge to throw the vampire girl in a pool of garlic just so she could take her place beside you. Because lately that's been her new normal, and now that someone seems to be taking it from her, she's realizing how much she actually cares.

————

The weekend came sooner than you thought it would. Ever since taking your subject in the anatomy class, you've been spending most of your free time with Yoko, and so far you've written down most of the particularities of a vampire's body — mainly the fangs honestly.

But today was your free free day, which meant going down to the lake, which got pretty busy on days like this; where the sky is basically free of clouds and the warm sun is shining down on the green fields outside the school walls.

The water was glistening brightly, and there was a slight breeze in the wind that got the leaves rustling around you. Basically, everyone was out because of the perfect weather, students were swimming on the lake, reading, practicing archery, or just walking by the shore. You were enjoying a bit of peaceful time — that is, until a splash of water came over you.

You sat up abruptly from your place under the huge willow tree, the picnic blanket wrinkling under you. Cleaning the droplets of water from your sunglasses — Yoko's extra sunglasses actually, that you shamelessly snatched — you shouted; "watch it, Xavier, some people wanna remain dry."

The boy in question had just emerged from his jump, shoulder deep into the lake and squinting at you because of the sunlight in his eyes, "sorry, my bad," he chuckled, swatting away his long hair, now dripping wet.

"I'm telling you, the guy's got a crush on you since your first year."

Your head snapped to Yoko, who lay just beside you. Leaning back on your elbows, you picked at a few loose strands of the red and white blanket beneath you; "Xavier? No, no way."

There was a nest of birds on the branches above you, you could hear the mother calling out to her babies, loud and sharp. You caught a glimpse of her feathers when she flew, white and blue.

Yoko followed your gaze, her eyebrows scrunching as she searched for the bird; "hm yeah, I'm pretty sure."

With a thud, you let yourself fall down flat on the blanket, your head hitting the softness the grass under it provided. "No, come on. Besides, he's not even my type."

That sparked Yoko's attention, she propped herself up on one elbow, turning to you so she could look down at you better. "Who is your type then?" She raised a perfectly styled eyebrow, her dark sunglasses mixing well with the darker lipstick.

You could feel your cheeks automatically heating up. You thought of raven black hair, soft skin that's a little cold under your touch, and eyes so dark you swear you can see galaxies in them.

"Maybe a certain gloomy, cold-hearted Addams?" Yoko suggested with a shit-eating grin before you could answer, gingerly twirling a strand of your hair between her fingers.

You chuckled, one hand coming up to cover your eyes as you bit the inside of your cheek; "stop it, that's not-"

"Not accurate?"

"Not that simple."

Yoko hummed, taking a sip of her cold drink before laying back down, her shoulder brushing yours. "You've been dancing around each other for so long, I wouldn't even be surprised if she got you a valentine's gift."

"She wouldn't," you mumbled.

"You deserve someone who would, though," Yoko told you, turning her head to you, "hope she knows that."

Without meeting her gaze, you tangled your hand with the vampire's, giving a soft squeeze to let her know you agreed.

Yoko groaned playfully, her finger tapping yours; "alright, stop sulking. I catch her looking at you way too often that it's like, impossible it doesn't mean anything."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and Enid keeps asking if there's something between you two already."

The sunlight started to peek through the leaves, you raised a hand to play with its light, faintly hearing Enid's panicked gibberish before Ajax threw her on the lake, his own splash coming right after. You sighed, closing your eyes; "it's… complicated."

Not even ten seconds after you spoke, the sunlight vanished completely as a shadow was cast upon you. You frowned, noticing a smidge of darkness over your eyelids; you opened your eyes to see Wednesday standing right beside you, gazing down at you with a scowl on her features that even got you a bit worried for your safety.

You pushed your sunglasses up and propped yourself on your elbows, looking at her through your lashes; "Wednesday, hey. Everything alright?" As happy as you were to see her, it wasn't common for her to join you all on the lake.

Wednesday's focus changed between you and Yoko carefully, her bangs getting messy with the wind; she looked like a painting, like something worthy of being in a museum. You could easily lose yourself just by looking at her but before it happened, Wednesday blinked, moving her gaze away from you, and said; "I need you for something, let's go," her tone tight.

And with that, she was taking purposeful steps away from you and towards the woods. Your lips hung open for a second, something seemed off.

"Doesn't look complicated to me." Yoko teased with a chuckle.

"Shut up." You grumbled before scrambling to your feet and jogging towards Wednesday, quickly falling into step beside her.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

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