#it really is something that I have been struggling with so its a LEARNING CURVE

[enjoliquej]

Guide us

to Thy

perfect Light.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!

[latenightdaydreams]

Reader is trying to learn German, and König finds out. Its only right that he helps teach her Ja? Makes her say filthy things to him with her none the wiser.

Pervert!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, dirty talk, masturbation

1.1k word count

📱

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To say König has a crush on you would be an understatement. He’s more so…obsessed with you. No matter what is going on, König makes sure to keep an extra close eye on you. Always lingering near you during training exercises or sitting close in the mess hall.

Today, as he walks into the common room, he spots you sitting on the couch with your phone in your hand. He walks behind you, trying to get a peek at what you are up to. As his eyes land on your phone, he sees the little green language app owl icon in the corner and the German flag. A rush of excitement shoots through him. German? His mother tongue? How exciting!

Acting as casually as he can, he sits down next to you on the couch. You look up and smile at him before looking back at your phone. Not that you could see it, but König smiles back at you under his mask. He struggles to come up with a way to approach the topic, so he just decides to be direct like he always is.

“So, you’re learning German?”

You look back up from your phone and meet König’s gaze. “Yeah, I’ve been trying for a few months now. I just can’t keep the habit of logging on to do so.” Your voice carries a certain lightness to it that isn’t usually found on a military base.

“You know, I have extra time on my schedule. I could help you. German is my first language, after all.” König leans back into the couch, crossing his arms.

“Oh? I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” He’s the Colonel. Getting in his way is the last thing you want to do.

“No bother at all. It would be a pleasure to help. I love when people want to learn German.” His blue eyes gaze into yours, masking his hidden agenda behind a kind look.

“I would really appreciate that, Colonel. Thank you.”

“My office, tomorrow at 19:00.” König stands and walks away with that.

The next day, König sits at his desk, waiting eagerly for you to show up. His fingers tap on the solid wood desk before him as he watches the time. Two more minutes before he told you to appear. Where are you?

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. König perks up in his seat and looks towards the door. “Come in.” His voice carries to you on the other side of the door. You enter and see König appearing relaxed at his desk.

“Hello, Colonel.” You close the door behind you.

“You can just call me König since it’s just us.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and just holds it in his hand.

“Okay, König.” You say in a tone he can easily mistaken as flirting, and he did.

As you take a seat, his eyes follow every curve of your body. He watches the way you relax even in his presence; not something many do. Clearing his throat, he leans forward in his seat.

“So how much German would you say you know?”

“I can only say ‘hallo’ and ‘danke’.” You say with a small chuckle.

“So, you know nothing?” König laughs as he leans back. “Okay, I’ll start with some easy things.”

For the next twenty minutes he walks you through simple greetings, pulling out a pen and paper to write these down for you. He teaches you about umlauts and how they’re pronounced. Once he feels more comfortable, he looks down at his phone and unlocked the screen. The voice recording app is open and he hits record, placing his phone face down on the table.

“Now, let's put some of these words into sentences.” A sly smirk on his face underneath his mask. “Ich bin deine Hure.”

“Ich bin dein Hure.”

“Close, it’s deine. Try it again.”

“Ich bin deine Hure.” You say confidently, not knowing you just called yourself a whore.

“Gut, das ist gut!” He can feel his cock begin to tingle at the sound of you calling yourself a whore. “Once more before we move on.”

König relaxes in his chair as he listens to you say it loud and clear, perfectly too. He nods his head in approval. “Great. Now let’s say, ‘Bitte iss meine Muschi’.” He swallows hard as he waits.

“Bitte iss meine Muschi.” You repeat after him perfectly.

“Again.” His blue eyes are glued to your lips as you speak. He can’t help but to imagine them wrapped around his cock as you gag on him. He listens to you beg him to eat your pussy and its heaven. If only you really were begging.

“You’re doing very well, y/n. Your accent isn’t that bad either.”

You smile proudly at being complimented by your own Colonel on your German. “Thank you, König.”

“Ja, ja…of course. Let’s continue.” He shifts in his chair to ease the tension of his erection straining against his cargo pants. “Next is, ‘Ich liebe deinen Schwanz’.”

“Ich liebe deinen…Schwanz?” You struggle with the last word, a nervous giggle in your voice.

“Schwanz, you said it right. Now again.” His eyes follow your lips closely as you say it again. You really would love his cock if you gave him a chance. He’s never had a lover complain so far.

As you speak you watch König’s gaze lower to your chest and back up to your lips. You think nothing of it, and just assume he was simply looking at you, not checking you out. What you don’t see from where you sit is the giant tent in his pants and him biting his lip underneath the cover of his mask.

A half hour passes of him recording you saying depraved sexual things to König. He’s made you tell him that you have a tight pussy, sweet pussy, how much you’d love to fuck and suck him. By the time he ends the session, there is a wet patch on the olive-green fabric of his pants.

“Tomorrow, same time?” König asks as you stand, preparing to leave.

“That works for me.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

König watches as you leave his office, his eyes glued to your ass swaying until the door closes. He lifts his phone and stops the recording. In a rush he locks his office door, sitting back down and opening your file on the computer so he can have a visual. He undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. As he hits play, his eyes stay focused on your photo. A low moan leaves his lips as he strokes his cock, listening to you beg to suck it on his phone.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Could you possibly do something where Feyd and y/n are Wed and while he tends to his duties as Na-Baron y/n decides to look around and runs into Rabban and attempts to make and ally and while Feyd is looking for y/n he sees this and f*cks you in his brothers chambers and continues even when his brother walks and threatens him into watching. Love you (not in a creepy way) 😌😌

Love u too (not in a creepy way)!! I hope you don’t mind but the voices took over and told me to make Rabban sort of the opposite of an ally 😋

“You'll watch, and you'll learn that you will never win.” — feyd rautha x reader

Summary: see request^^

Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, graphic violence (not towards reader), fighting, blood, injury, (all not aimed at reader) probably typos :/

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You wandered through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen residence, your footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. As Feyd-Rautha's wife, you were no stranger to the opulent decorations and intricate architecture of the for lack of a better word, palace, that you called home, but you still found yourself getting lost in its winding passages every once in a while.

Feyd was often busy, caught up in his Na-Baron duties, leaving you to your own devices. You didn't mind, really. It gave you the freedom to explore, to discover hidden nooks and secret gardens that even the most seasoned residents might not know about.

As you turned a corner, you came face to face with Rabban Harkonnen, Feyd's older brother, who was just stepping out of his chambers. His thick, brutish features twisted into a scowl, and you could sense the weight of his gaze upon you.

“Ah, Feyd’s little wife,” he rumbled, his voice like thunder in the confined space. “The little Na-Baroness, all alone and unattended.”

“Drop the act, Rabban. I’m just talking a walk.”

Rabban snorted, his eyes roving over your body. “What is it exactly that he sees in you?” He spoke quietly, attempting to insult you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Rabban's eyes roved over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves. You tried to step back, but Rabban was too quick, his massive hand closing around your wrist like a vice.

“Let go of me,” you fought.

“Oh, I don't think so,” Rabban purred, his hot breath washing over your face. “I've been wanting to get my hands on you for a long time, and now that Feyd's not around to protect you... well, I think it's time we got to know each other a little better.”

As always, Feyd-Rautha appeared from behind you with perfect timing, his eyes blazing with fury as he watched you struggle in his brother’s grip.

“Rabban, you bastard,” Feyd snarled, his voice low and deadly. “Let her go.”

Rabban didn't even flinch, his grip on you tightening. “Oh, come now, Feyd,” he sneered. “You know I've always wanted her.“

Feyd took a step forward, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “I'll kill you, Rabban,” he warned.

Rabban just laughed, his eyes never leaving yours. “You'll do no such thing, little brother,” he sneered.

Rabban liked to play this tough guy game. That was the difference between him and Feyd. Rabban liked to appear angry and threatening to everyone, even his family. That’s not to say he never truly was angry though. He was, always at Feyd, who was a smarter, stronger and more respected, despite being younger than him. Feyd however, actually was threatening to everyone, except you, of course.

You smiled at Feyd, feeling complete protection despite being in the arms of his brother.

With a swift, deadly motion, he drew a blade from his belt and plunged it into Rabban's shoulder, just above the collarbone, instantly, his grip on you was released. Rabban's eyes widened in shock as he realized he couldn't reach the blade to pull it out.

Feyd's voice was low and menacing. “You should have kept your hands to yourself, Rabban. Now, you have a choice to make. You can watch us, or... the blade goes deeper.”

Rabban's face twisted in rage and pain, but he knew he was trapped. Feyd's grip on the blade remained unyielding, his free arm welcoming you into his embrace. With a cruel smile, Feyd dragged you towards Rabban's bed, the velvet drapes billowing around you like a dark cloud. Rabban's was dragged along by the blade, his gaze burning with hatred and humiliation.

Feyd's voice was a cold, calculated whisper. “You'll watch, Rabban. You'll watch, and you'll learn that you will never win.”

The blade remained lodged in Rabban's shoulder, a constant reminder of Feyd's power and control. You knew that if Rabban tried to move, the blade would be shoved deeper, a cruel and merciless punishment.

“My darling girl,” Feyd growled, his hands roaming your body. He wasted no time bringing a couple fingers between your thighs, rubbing softly as he kissed you. You felt a rush of excitement, as Feyd pulled you closer. You reached your hand out to his body, pressing against his growing erection, eliciting a growl from him.

Feyd encouraged your touch, pressing you onto his brother’s bed. Rabban's presence seemed to egg him on, his brother's gaze a twisted, voyeuristic thrill. That’s another thing Feyd had that Rabban didn’t — a sex life. Feyd continued to ravage you, stripping himself and you of all clothing. Rabban's eyes locked onto yours, a cruel glint in their depths. Rabban's face twisted into a snarl, but he didn't move, didn't intervene, as Feyd continued to take you, right there in his brother's chambers.

“Nice and wet for me, princess,” Feyd breathed, testing your waters with his fingertips before lining the tip of his cock up to your sex.

You let out a gasp as his length filled you up, you felt your muscles being stretched out around him. You would never get used to his size. The burn was welcome, a familiar feeling you hated to love. A cry escaped your lips, Feyd kissing you, mumbling encouragement as he let you adjust.

“That’s it, there you go,” Feyd mumbled, feeling you relax around him. He began to thrust, slowly. Feyd was draconian, and sadistic, evident in the way he made eye contact with his brother as he fucked you. His cock repeatedly brushed over your g spot, making you whimper in pleasure. He licked his thumb, coating it in his saliva before pressing it to your clit, drawing over it just the way you liked. For Feyd, sex was always about you. Never him. Even when he just needed to rough you, or punish you, it was never about depriving you of pleasure, but rather, overwhelming you with it.

“There's my good girl,” he praised, your hips beginning to match his rhythm.

“Oh my god, don't stop.” You moaned, trying to get your legs even further apart, wanting Feyd as deep inside of you as he could be. It wasn't long before your orgasm started to build, Feyd squeezing your nipple between his teeth as he held your head down to the bed, fucking you like an animal.

Feyd felt your walls began to clench and release around him, he knew that feeling well, he knew you were about to come. He sped up his thrusts, trying to bring himself to the edge of release too, wanting to cum with you.

“Come,” he growled in your ear. His words sent you over the edge, and you came hard. Your inner muscles gripped him tight, he groaned as he bit down on your shoulder, filling you up with his seed. He continued to work your clit, stroking the tiny bud until you cried out again in pleasure, your orgasm peaking yet again as his cum continued to spurt inside of you.

He continued you stroke you through your release, until slowly pulling out of you. He stood, panting as he made eye contact with his brother. He walked over to him, his cock still twitching as his blood flow gradually calmed. Without a word, Feyd buried the blade hilt deep into Rabban’s shoulder, the sound of metal scraping against bone echoing through the room. Rabban's eyes widened in agony as he screamed, his body arching backward in a futile attempt to escape the pain.

Feyd's face was a mask of cold, calculated cruelty, his eyes glinting with a malevolent intensity. He leaned in close to Rabban's ear, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

“Thinking you had a choice. Laughable. You should have kept your mouth shut, brother. You will never have what’s mine.”

Rabban's screams grew louder, his body thrashing against the cold ground as Feyd twisted the blade, ensuring it was lodged deep within his shoulder. You watched in horror, and yet, sadistically, enjoyed the way Feyd would quite literally stop at nothing to protect and show his love for you.

Feyd finally withdrew the blade, his movements slow and deliberate. With a flick of his wrist, Feyd sent the blade spinning across the floor, its tip clattering against the cold stone on the far side of the room, leaving tiny blood spots in its wake.

As Rabban's cries of outrage and humiliation continued to echo through the chamber, Feyd turned his attention to you, his movements calm and deliberate as he helped you to dress. His fingers brushed against your skin delicately, as he fastened the intricate clasps and ties of your gown. His touch was gentle, tender, a stark contrast to the brutal intensity of his passion just moments before.

Once you were fully clothed, Feyd turned his attention to himself. He adjusted his attire to his body, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked. When he was finished, he offered you his arm.

“Shall we, my darling?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, as if the scene that had just played out had never occurred.

You took his arm, a small smile gracing your face as you realised just how much you were enjoying something you really shouldn’t be. Feyd led you out of Rabban's chambers, the sound of his brother's angry cries and threats fading into the distance as you left the room behind.

[cheriladycl01]

My girlfriend jousts! Charles Leclerc x SouthKoreanOlympicFencing! Reader

Plot: Charles Leclerc finally dates outside of his friendship circle, nobody in the paddock has met you yet. He invites you to your first race and tries to explain your job to everyone...

You walked next to your boyfriend F1 driver Charles Leclerc. It was your first time in the paddock with him and you were very nervous. You'd never met his team-mate Carlos Sainz, or any of the drivers for the matter.

You reached out to take his hand which he took happily, pulling it up and kissing the top of your hand.

"There's no need to worry! Everyone's going to love you!" he smiles down at you, you rub your thumb over his knuckles as a comforting gesture for yourself.

You both swiped in and he didn't leave your side, no matter how many people came up to talk to him. Weather it was the likes of Will Buxton, wanting to talk to him about the car, or a fan asking for a signature on a Ferrari cap or one of his fellow drivers offering him quick good lucks for the weekend as they rush off to whatever media duties they have.

"Come on, lets go find Carlos! I'll introduce you to Rebecca" he smiles as you both head over to the Ferrari motorhome. You can tell everyone really is like family there, Charles walks you round introducing you to all the mechanics and the social media staff. Literally anyone he can find he goes up to, and he knows their names and is asking them about their families.

"Oh! Yes this is my girlfriend Y/N. She's much cooler than me... she jousts for her job!" he exclaims using the worst way possible to describe what you do.

"Excuse me?" the man laughs, not really understanding what Charles was trying to explain your job as.

"I'm a South Korean Olympic Fencer. I competed in the 2021 Olympics in Tokyo. Charles just finds it funny to tell people i joust like some medieval brute!" you smile at the mechanic who laughs nodding.

"I knew i recognized you from somewhere, just couldn't put my mind too it where I support Italy!" he smiles and you nod at him.

"So what's it like being a fencer?" he asks.

"I enjoy it, there's obviously a certain level of talent too it and dedication but i've also found its rather artistic" you smile while explaining how you've linked your training schedule up to Charles' with Joris so you can get fitter before the next games.

You'd placed silver which had been incredible but like most olympians or people in sort you wanted that gold. You'd noticed major improvements in the way you'd fenced since you'd gone to training with Charles. You basically copied his everyday routine. You ate what he ate and you exercised like he did.

Next up Carlos came jogging over Rebecca as graceful as ever floating behind him greeting everyone that she passed.

"Omg hello! You must be Charles girlfriend. He and Carlos have told me all about you!" Rebecca smiles but you struggle to understand her because of the strong Scottish accent. It took you months to get around the way Charles spoke that you actually found it easier if you both spoke in French, which you'd learned at school. But you eventually both got around that curve-ball.

"Hello. It's nice to meet, both of you. Charles has also told me lots about you!" you admit smiling at her, she pulls you into a hug which you kindly accept and try to not make the first contact awkward.

You all ended up having lunch together in the Ferrari hospitality talking about everything and how you'd be flying back to Korea next week. Carlos said how he was upset that the Korean International Circuit wasn't on the roster anymore and that he'd never driven round it and might never get too.

Charles was very touchy all day, every time he left you to go do something team related he either held onto you while you walked him to wherever he needed to be. You'd wait and he'd rush straight back out pulling you into a hug kissing your neck and burying his head into the crook of it.

"What's wrong Jagiya (Baby)?" you asked looking to him and holding him.

"I just want to go home with you" he sighs, you can tell its not been a good day with the media considering they kept asking about his DNF in last weekends race.

"Mmmmm and we will. But I think you have some more friends to introduce me to" you grinned at him.

He introduced you to Lando and Oscar, who you both enjoyed their vibe. You found it easy to make conversation with Lando and his upbeat energy and Oscar had very funny and comedially timed inputs and ad libs to the conversation but also had a comforting silence you enjoyed.

He also introduced you to Pierre saying how they'd been best friends since they were very young and they'd come all the way through Karting together.

Pierre asked his girlfriend Kika to come over and introduced the two of you. Being similar ages you both got on having similar sense of humors and were into the same things.

You spent the rest of the day walking round the paddock with her, until someone caught you for an interview. It seemed to be Sky News, you'd been privy to Sky News before when they captured you in the Olympics.

"So Y/N it's your first time here! How have you found the energy of the paddock?" he asks.

"Yes, it's been very faced pace I think I've met and spoken to more people today than i have in my 23 years I've been around!" you joke laughing with the presenter.

"And how does it feel, as a Silver Olympic medalist to be around a sport like this?" he asks.

"Yeah, I mean from a very young age I was active and enjoyed different types of sport. My mum really wanted to pursue Taekwando as it's our national sport but I was never an aggressive person. I tried football and then when i was sent to a boarding school I was enlisted for fencing and I just stuck with it!" you answer politely.

"So, as i'm from the UK I would assume that your Premiere League Team is Spurs?" he asks hoping you liked football still to this day.

"Yes, I do. I try watch them at any opportunity i can! Sometimes and don't tell Charlie but I've skipped qually to watch them play" you say biting your lip a little.

The quick interview wraps up and it was safe to say that afterwards Charles Leclerc was now having to share his girlfriend with everyone online who had fallen in love with her personality.

"You look cute here!" Charles says latter that night a still from your interview on the TV where he'd paused it. You were laughing at something the interviewer had said and you hand was over your face covering it while your sharp eyes crinkled from your smile.

"Mmmm today was fun! I'd like to come to this more often!" you smile at him, flopping down onto the bed and playing with the collar of his red team shirt.

"Yeah? You would?" he asks and you nod before pulling him into a hug.

y/user

Liked by charlesleclerc and others

y/user: Amazing weekend at my first race! The Scuderia was very exciting. Thank you for the time @scuderiaferrari

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charlesleclerc I love you ❤️ thank you for coming 🔥

2 hours ago

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A/N: sorry this is my first try at some kind of social media! Im sorry if it’s bad!

[antianakin]

Regarding Codywan; which one of the pair do you think would be more likely to fail at self-care, forcing the other to get them into bed, insist they take a break from the planning table and so on?

Cody. 1000% Cody.

For one, Cody is simply younger than Obi-Wan and so is going to have less experience in general, but he's also led an IMMENSELY sheltered life that was full of lots of strict routines that didn't allow him to do much of anything beyond what the Kaminoans allowed him to do. And there is no indication that one of those things the clones were taught was good mental health practices. In fact, you could argue that we have evidence they were explicitly NOT taught mental health practices since I think they tell us in TCW that the clones were told they'd had regular stress somehow engineered out of them. If the Kaminoans believed that, then presumably they wouldn't have felt the need to teach the clones how to effectively HANDLE stress beyond just... pushing through it to complete the objective/mission.

Cody is an incredibly competent person who seems to be pretty steady in a crisis, for sure, but I think he's primarily steady IN SPECIFIC SITUATIONS, all of which relate to battles and war and dealing with authorities. Take him out of that situation and he's probably going to struggle a little more with understanding the parameters of what's expected of him. He'd pick that kind of thing up VERY quickly, but it seems like something all of the clones would have to learn after leaving Kamino. Basic things like how to go shopping or going out to eat, even going to a club and the expectations for the social interactions in those places is going to have a learning curve.

I also think that the clones are probably going to be fairly good at managing physical health because maintaining their ability to do their jobs in that way would likely be something the Kaminoans would have kept in mind, but managing their emotional and mental health would be something entirely new. Like I said, they have been led to believe they don't experience stress and all of its related problems, so understanding what they feel and the best ways to handle it are going to be completely beyond them.

And this is where the Jedi can come in. They're literally intergalactic therapists, this is their bread and butter. Helping the clones understand what they're feeling and how to best manage what's happening to them would likely be one of the first building blocks of trust between the two groups. But there's obviously one Jedi among potentially THOUSANDS of troopers, so they probably start by passing along advice to a few of the higher ranked troopers and hope that it trickles down through the other men. And this could easily lead to some bonding between Obi-Wan and Cody, with Obi-Wan recognizing when Cody is pushing himself too far for too long and learning his tells for when he's tired but can go a little longer vs when he's basically dead on his feet and SHOULDN'T go any longer, or when he's in a mood to listen to advice from someone about getting rest vs when he's in a mental place where that's just not going to be taken well and might actually cause Cody to push himself even harder.

I'll also point out that, despite popular fandom characterization, Obi-Wan really doesn't show any inclination to push himself beyond what he can handle in canon. In what I think is season one of TCW, there's a moment somewhere between Obi-Wan and Anakin where Obi-Wan asks ANAKIN if he's slept and can tell that Anakin hasn't, implying that Obi-Wan probably HAS slept despite the stress of the situation. And then there's Landing at Point Rain where Obi-Wan gets badly injured and proceeds to sit through the majority of the battle. He only gets up ONCE, when it seems like their defenses are about to be broken and he has absolutely no other choice but to fight, and then as soon as reinforcements arrive he immediately sits back down again and STAYS seated even through Anakin and Ahsoka arriving, their mission debrief, and being treated by a medic. Everyone else literally has to gather around him because he refuses to move from his seated position. He never tries to get up and fight when he doesn't have to nor does he seem to avoid or refuse medical aid once it's available. At the end, he keeps leaning on Anakin and Ki-Adi-Mundi as he is led to a ship that will take him away from the field so he can get MORE medical aid and doesn't seem to be refusing that, either.

Even in the context of the films, during the fight with Dooku where he gets badly injured, he stays DOWN after that and lets Anakin handle the fight instead because he knows that trying to get up and keep fighting would just be a distraction. And it isn't that he CAN'T get up, we see him stand up and limp away later, but that there would be very little point in him trying to do so. And he doesn't seem to be trying to hide his injuries after the battle's over, either, he's very obviously limping and holding his arm.

Which isn't to say that Obi-Wan couldn't occasionally choose to pull all nighters if he felt it necessary for one reason or another, or that he would NEVER push himself through pain or exhaustion in certain situations, but I don't think that the fandom characterization of him as someone who can barely take care of himself and constantly hides injuries and avoids medical attention to the point of literally causing himself further harm is consistent with how he's actually shown in canon. We don't ever get to see Cody react to being injured, but given what we know of the clones' upbringing, it just makes more sense to me that Cody would struggle with pushing himself beyond what he SHOULD and with managing his own emotions.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Far atop the dusty downtown of Strangerville stood what felt like a different world. During the decades of the gold rush Eastern settlers had flooded the town and the settlements around it, displacing the people of the land even further as they dug into it for their own ends. The ones who succeeded ended up here, in Shady Acres, where they could look atop the empire they drilled into the ground.

Now, most of the houses sat abandoned, left to the disrepair of time and the harsh desert sands as the promise of ever greater riches took their owners further West to California and Oregon. There were little signs of life on the streets other than a lone truck making its way up the hillside, inhabited by two people who still weren’t quite comfortable being alone together anymore.

Gio directed Jo to pull to the edge of the cliff face, overlooking the town they had just driven from. She struggled to get the turn just right, but it was better than her other practice attempts, so he gave her a quiet smile of approval as she shifted the gear into park. Even from inside the metal truck they could hear the wind howling. It had been their constant companion on these near silent journeys up this road the past few weeks. 

He knew that the road further West was filled with places like this, miles and miles of winding curves and jaw dropping heights that would take a steady hand on the wheel. Antoine had taken one look inside the car and immediately refused to learn how to drive it. So burying whatever remaining fears and anger he had deep inside, Gio had gotten in the passenger seat with Jo and offered to teach her how to drive.

With every lesson, he knew that he was essentially giving her the tools she needed to leave him, the one thing he had been so afraid of that he was willing to lie and cheat to prevent it from happening. Now he felt like all he could do was sit by hope every inch he gave or silent acquiescence would serve to bind her closer to him rather than push her further away. Still in the back of his mind his fears kept nagging, so much so that as the day for her to leave came closer he couldn’t stay quiet anymore.

The wind kept howling, threatening to drown out his voice as he reached toward her. “Jo, mi raccomando…”

She braced herself for the same apology about his lie over the loan that she already had memorized. What more did he want her to say? She had stayed, hadn’t she? Stayed outwardly for Violette but really, quietly and inwardly, for all of them. Because she loved them all, but more than anything, because she loved him.

Only how was she supposed to tell him that? That she had fought back every instinct to leave so that she could stay with him, even if the price to pay to do so was that she would never trust him again. Because he had shown her that she had been wrong about him. He could hurt her, just as well as any other man she had ever known could. Except now that she had let him inside, now that she loved him, he could hurt her all the more. So she had to compensate somehow, to regain some sort of ground to stand on or she would be left weak to him doing it all over again.

“You don’t need to answer, okay?” Her head stayed turned just as he knew it would, and her hand went to the wheel as though the steady the car from the roar of the desert wind. It grew stronger as his voice grew more emotional, shaking the car and whipping across the top of the mesa.

“I can’t make you forgive me for any of what happened, but I’m sorry I didn’t support you and Antoine going on tour, or even really put you in the position where you could have chosen to do it for yourself and not to save us from some choice I made. I just…every time you walk out the door I’m afraid you won’t come home, that you’ll find someone or something else and I’ll never see you again.”

The sun was hitting directly in her eyes, mingling there with the stinging of tears that she tried her hardest to hold back. Only it was too bright, and she couldn’t possibly fight it, so one small tear after another rolled down her face while she stayed staring at it.

Whatever else he said after that was inconsequential as she let the sunbeams dry her unexpected tears; because he had already broken through her carefully constructed armor, made brittle by anger, restlessness, and love. But he couldn’t know that, or it would make everything she had done up to this point meaningless. The portion of the farm that was now hers, betraying Antoine, Zelda’s pained resolve, Violette’s angry confusion. She endured it all in some effort to regain control and hope for her own life; only it was so tenuous that she was convinced a few stray tears could undermine it all, so she made sure her face was completely dry before she turned to face him.

By the time she did so he had gone quiet and only a sliver of his profile could be seen. The rest of him was pretending to study the desert landscape, visibly struggling to adhere to his promise that he wouldn’t speak again until she answered him.

As it always did in moments like this, his vulnerability astounded her. He had meant every word he said, and he had spoken them without pause, trusting her to meet him halfway despite her track record of never having done so before. He had signed over a portion of his lease with a clenched fist only to climb into the passenger seat of his own truck, giving patient instructions with an anxious edge as she drove them further and further from town. Every choice he had made was in pursuit of some twisted idea of love, all the while she was guided by some nebulous idea of strength, the undeniable compulsion to never feel trapped again even if her own love had tried to temper it time and time again.

Jo reached over to touch his face and turn it toward her own. He gave no hesitation as he leaned into her touch, no questions and no judgement for the streaks on her face that must have still been visible from up so close. “Gio, look at me. I’m going to come home, okay?”

She left out that she wished this wasn’t home, some place she had no connection to or hope for, one filled with harsh desert winds barely keeping failed dreams afloat. A land of drought and struggle so incessant that it had almost worn down even her will. Some days it still felt like it was trying to accomplish what it nearly had when she was afloat in that bed, miserable and useless.

But shielded from it all inside the confines of his truck, with only his earnest expression and kind but well worn hands to anchor her down, suddenly it did feel like home. Or at least he did. So in a rare moment, she spoke without a single ounce of pretense or calculation, letting the need to keep herself in control float away on the howling wind. “I promise you, I’m always going to come home. No matter what.”

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Prologue)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: A night at work leads Y/N to the bed of the Prince of Kooks and it results in a small miracle.

Masterlist

Working at a catering company is not exactly Y/N’s life dream, but it helps her pay for tuition so she deals with it. The black cocktail dress she is forced to wear for this event is driving her insane. It is itchy and so short that she worries every few minutes her underwear will show. She is struggling with the heels, fearing she’ll trip with no way of catching her fall. The tray in her hand holds lemon buttercups that make her mouth salivate like a dog. She navigates around the wealthy partygoers and offers anyone who looks interested a sweet treat. Most people barely look in her direction, let alone thank her; the wealthy really need to learn some manners. At least she only has three more hours of this. 

For once, Rafe didn’t get high as soon as he got off of work. He knew he had to accompany his dad to this networking event and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake of going to a work event high again. Not after last time. His regret for being sober is starting to grow, but the smell of vanilla makes him glad he can think clearly. Her bright smile is the second thing he notices after her vanilla perfume. It amazes him how she can still be so happy, knowing she’s been working since the start of the night. He wants to go get a lemon buttercup just to have an excuse to talk to her; however, the button on his suit jacket has another idea. It falls off of its string and starts rolling away from him. They watch as the button gets farther away and both go after it. Their eyes are focused on the button, which causes them to run into each other. 

Buttercups go flying everywhere and Y/N falls flat on her bum. Rafe tries to stop his fall, but all he really does is change the direction he falls in and he tumbles on top of her. His chest presses against hers. She feels his breath fight against hers and she tries her hardest to keep the attraction out of her eyes. Her mind snaps back to reality. She quickly pushes him off of her and she stands back up. 

Her hands search for the tray so she can go back to the kitchen to replace the soiled treats. He wants to go after her, but his dad stops him in his tracks under the pretense of talking to a client. The rest of the night is spent looking for the vanilla-scented waitress. He finally sets eyes on the one person he wants to see near the end of the night. Her body sits in a nook hidden away from everyone. She has her knees folded close to her chest and he can see she is reading something placed on her lap. The cold night air breezes through her hair, getting into her face but it doesn’t seem to bother her. The dress she is wearing absolutely drives him crazy. It hugs her curves perfectly and with the way she is sitting, he catches a glimpse at her underwear, which he has to pull himself to look away from her. “I’m glad I found you again, Buttercup. We didn’t get the chance to talk last time.” 

She looks up from whatever she is reading, giving him a small smile that doesn’t compare to the one before. He vows to make her give him that smile again. She can’t help but admit that she thinks he is funny and handsome. She thought that everyone at the event would be a high society person, who would look down at her. But whoever this guy is, he talks to her like she is human. Joking around with her and flashing her a charming smirk. His blazer is thrown across his forearm and she finds it attractive how the sleeves of his button-up are folded up his arms. It takes everything inside of her not to smile like an idiot when he speaks to her. “And it’s Button. Did you manage to get your button back?” she asks. He walks over, sitting on the wall across from her, “Yes, thanks for trying to help. Sorry, I knocked you off of your feet. What are you reading?” “It’s okay. It was my fault too for not looking. And I’m reading a script. I have an audition tomorrow for a student film,” she explains, flashing him the script she is reading. He gently snatches it out of her hand, “So you’re an actress, interesting. I could see that. Anything I would have seen you in?”

“No, just a bunch of student films for university. That’s it. But one day, I’m going to move out to New York or maybe LA and then get my big break. For now, I’m okay with just going to university and acting in student films.” 

“Well I’ve never seen you act, but I know you’ll make it big. I mean with a smile better than Julia Roberts’, how could you not?”

“Aww, thanks! Aren’t you going back to the party? Or are you hiding out too? You seemed to be a hit with the other business dudes.”

He looks at her with a grin, playfully knocking her foot with his, “You’ve been watching me. I’m hiding out from my father. He says I’m useless and can’t be trusted, yet he seems to want to parade me around at events like these. I just don’t understand him.” His hands play at buttoning his watch on and off. She looks at him with sad eyes, feeling bad about his parental pressures. He hates that he is the one to make her sad and all he wants to do is to give her the world to cheer her up. “I’m sorry your dad is such a jerk. The only useless thing I see here is your suit button,” she jokes to lighten up the mood. This is when she flashes him her award-winning smile and he wants to melt, “Thanks. I’m used to it by now.” Silence falls over them before Rafe feels the need to tell her more about his dad. She has eyes that tell him she can be trusted and if she is as sweet as her perfume, she must be hella sweet. “He doesn’t understand that I’m protecting him and the company. That’s me. Not Sarah. Me, Rafe. I’m the one.” His tears start to fall as his fingers press against his thumb to point toward him to punctuate his point. 

She isn’t sure what to say to him; she never had any problems with her dad. She moves to sit beside him, bringing his head onto her shoulder. He revels in her touching and lets himself feel comfort in her neck. After a few seconds, he looks up at her. Their eyes lock for a second. His lips near hers and she takes the chance by smacking their lips together. Their mouths move in tandem, his tongue moving against her bottom lip to ask for entrance. She lets him in and they fight for dominance. Eventually, she gives him full control. His hands move to the neckline of her dress, moving it out of the way so he can kiss her collarbone. 

Before things get too heated in public, she moves his head away from her skin. She places her forehead against his and quietly pants, “I really do want to continue this, but maybe not in a place we’d get arrested.” He loves the way she says it taking her hand into his to drag her to his truck. 

——

Rafe spins her around so her back slams against his door. His teeth gently tug her bottom lips and let it go to give her a kiss. His hand finds the back of her thigh, so he can hike it up to his waist. He separates for a second and brings his mouth to her ear, “My name is Rafe by the way. You’ll need to know it for when you are screaming my name later on.” She feels shivers run down her spine. His lips begin to descend the column of her neck and drops down to his knees. His head ducks under the skirt of her dress, using his teeth to pull her underwear down her legs. Once he has clear access to her pussy, he dives in to make her feel good. He starts his assault with her clitoris, swirling his tongue around the bud. Her head swings back in pleasure and her leg wraps around his shoulder. “God, I love the sounds you are making. You are doing so good, Buttercup. Do you want more?” he praises, looking up at her.

“Yes, please. More,” she cries out and brings his mouth back onto her. He gives a low chuckle at her words, moving his fingers to his mouth to get them prepared for her. His fingers move from his mouth to her vagina. It penetrates her hole and she is begging for him to give her more. Her hips start to buck to meet his movement. He adds another finger and the sound she lets out is music to his ears. Her walls start to tighten around his fingers. She lets out a loud gasp as she climaxes. He pulls his fingers out of her and cleans them off in his mouth. 

Standing at full height, he towers over her now. She gives him a wicked smile and stands on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “As much as I love the nickname Buttercup, I want you to be yelling Y/N for what I’m about to do.” It's her turn to kneel on her knees and pull down his clothes. He can cum in his pants just at the sight of her like this. She begins by pumping his cock in her hand, bringing the tip close to her lips. She gives it a little kitten lick and then continues to jerk him off. “Y/N, Y/N. Please, take me in your mouth. I need to feel you,” he moans out, lacing his fingers through her hair to push her head closer to where he needs her. She happily envelopes him in her mouth, using a hand to bring pleasure to what isn’t in her mouth. She continues to bob her head and swirls her tongue around his dick. 

She feels him twitch in her mouth, but he brings her up to full height before she can help him climax. “I want to come in you,” he begs, heading over to his bedside table to get a condom. She strips as he goes to get it, “Will you hurry up and get that thing on you? I need to feel you inside of me.” He quickly rips the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolls it onto himself after giving it a few pumps. The sight of her naked makes him want to drool; he knows she probably feels self-conscious being the only naked person in the room, so he rids himself of his clothes.

Her perky breasts are calling his name; therefore, he brings his head to suck on one of her nipples. The swirling of his tongue around her bud and her head jerks forward to rest on his head. “Enough foreplay, Rafe. Get your dick back in me before I take matters into my own hands,” she orders, moving his head from her boobs by his hair. He groans at her words, “Y/N if you do that, I’m going to have to punish you.” But he obeys her demands anyway. His fingers find their way back to her core to make sure she is wet enough for him. Finally, he brings the tip of his cock and pushes into her at a rough pace. He brings her leg back up to his waist and presses his chest against hers so she has better support with her back pressed against the door. With each thrust, her back rubs against the wall in a slight discomfort, but the pleasure he is giving her makes it worth it. “You are doing so good. Look how well you are taking me,” he breathly praises him. 

“What can I say? You’re pretty good at stretching me out,” she teases, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gives her a dark look, “I must not be doing a good enough job if it’s only pretty good. I have to kick it up a notch then.” As promised, his pace quickens and gets rougher as her moans increase in volume. He feels like he is in heaven and he knows he is going to come soon. His hand goes down between them, rubbing her clit to help her get close with him. His thrusts mixed with his rubbing fingers help bring her to her orgasm. “Keep going, I’m almost there. You feel amazing,” she admires as she feels herself clench around him. His orgasm washes over him too and he lets out a loud moan with his head thrown to her neck as his thrusts begin to slow down. He rides out both of their highs before pulling out of her with a peck to the lips. 

She slouches against the wall a little tired from their activities and he brings her other leg up to his waist so he can carry her to the bathroom. Her legs tighten around him; her head buries into his neck. He feels the faint brush of her lips against the skin of his neck. He places her on the toilet, turning away so she can go in privacy. With her bladder now empty, he returns to her with a damp towel to help clean off her sticky cum. The condom he is wearing comes off and is discarded in the garbage. Her legs wobble a little as she tries to make her way to the sink. Rafe lets out a small chuckle at her Bambi-like walking and helps her to the sink so she can wash her hands.

After they finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom, he carries her back to his room and gently lays her down. He gets in on his side of the bed, bringing her head against his chest. She thinks of saying something to break the silence, but sleep finds her before she can. 

——

It has been a month since that fateful night with Rafe. She left the next morning without waiting for him to wake up. Yes, they had an amazing night, but she didn’t think he was the relationship type so she wasn’t going to put him through the awkwardness of asking her to leave. Ever since that night, she’s been experiencing sore breasts, nausea, and mood swings; however, she just attributed those symptoms to her period coming soon. The trigger that brings her to where she is now is her missed period. Her period turned regular when she was sixteen so she shouldn’t skip a month. She stares at the wall of tests in front of her, trying to figure out the best one. She feels like everyone in the store is staring at her and just decides on whichever one she can grab first. 

The drive home is filled with anxious silence as she looks over at the bag on her passenger seat at every red light. She gets home and follows the instructions on the box. Waiting for five minutes has never felt this long before. Y/N paces the bathroom with the fingernail of her thumb in her mouth and runs towards the pregnancy test when the timer goes off. She looks in the little window on the test. Her panic seeps through her as she sees the words ‘pregnant’. Her first thought is to find Rafe and tell him, but then she remembers all the stories she’s heard about him after they slept together.

He does drugs. He has anger issues and hurts people. It is all completely different from the person she spent the night with, yet everyone has said the same thing. And that is not the type of father she wants for her baby. She doesn’t know if she is going to keep the baby, but she knows that whatever she decides, Rafe cannot be involved.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya

[glazesunflower]

Shenhe, Sara, and Eula with a gn reader who asks them to stay with them bc they're afraid of being left by people? or like comfort fluff headcanons along those lines if that's okay

Gentle Reassurances

Characters: Shenhe, Sara and Eula x GN!Reader.

Warnings: Your regular hurt/comfort.

Notes: "Tumblr drabbles!" I say as I come back with a post that's 4.5k words. I really know no self control. And I might have misunderstood the prompt for Shenhe and Eula but I think I got it right with Sara. Either way, I hope you still enjoy this <3

As the morning sun spilled its golden light into the apartment, Shenhe stirred from her slumber, her eyelashes fluttering with the remnants of her sleep. The warmth that filtered through the window caressed her cheeks as she blinked herself awake. With a soft yawn and a graceful stretch, she untangled herself from the all too warm embrace of her bed and rose to meet the day.

Her gaze met yours, and the softest of smiles curved her lips. 

"Good morning, my love." She whispered, her voice a gentle melody in your ears. "How did you sleep?"

You feel your lips growing into a smile too, a tender curve of affection for her eyes only. 

"I slept very well, thank you. How about you, my heart?"

A soft chuckle rolled out of her lips as she drew nearer, her presence and her scent wrapping you in morning bliss. 

"I slept well too." She admitted, her voice a soft caress in the space that separated you. She leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a delicate kiss. "I must admit, being in your arms feels so nice and warm in the morning."

Returning the kiss, your fingers found themselves lost in the winter of her hair, your fingertips grazing her skin softly. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation.

"You’re awfully cuddly this morning, Shenhe. Not to say I don’t enjoy it. Because I do, very much."

Shenhe nuzzled closer, a playful glint in her winter eyes that’s not lost to you. 

"Cuddly. Hm… Yes. I suppose you could say I am in a cuddly mood.”

“Yes.” You nodded, closing your eyes briefly. It had been a while since you had time to spend in each other’s company like this. You’ve been awfully busy at work lately. “I missed this.”

As the last remnants of sleep left her softened stare, you found her demeanor shifting, the subtlest change in her expression that you’ve learned to read as well as an open book with the passing of the time.

And so, you have also learned that, with Shenhe, it’s always best to be upfront about it all.

“Is everything alright?” 

You watched her brow twitch. Just the faintest bit. But you had your answer hidden there.

“I believe there’s something… That I would like to discuss with you.”

Concern edged into your voice. "Of course. What is it, my love?"

She met your gaze, vulnerability etched across her winter features. A sight she reserved for the intimacy of your shared home and nowhere else. Moments passed, each heartbeat a testament to her internal struggle.

"It feel like I should share…" The words almost trembled, laden with a raw uncertainty she could hardly conceal. Not to you. "Something that has been on my mind as of late, these past weeks."

Her words became quieter as she sought the right phrasing. You sat up, a sense of urgency mingling with your worry. 

"Are you alright?" A pause. And then. “Are… Are we alright?”

Her gaze held yours, and you could feel the fear dancing within the depths of your ribcage. Shenhe inhaled, her breath shuddering as she prepared to lay bare her heart. 

"I believe I feel…" Her voice wavered, just the faintest bit, her resolve clashing with her unease to tell you. She pressed on still, determination lending her strength. "Unattended. We certainly don't spend as much time together anymore, and you being away for long has awoken… Unpleasant emotions within me. That I feel I should share with you. I have given it much thought, and I believe that… I feel worried.” She shut her winter eyes, a barrier against the tumultuous emotions she can’t decipher within the cage of her chest. “…That we are beginning to drift apart.”

Your heart ached at her words. Of course, you had been neglecting her. You could blame the increasing amount of work you’ve had to do for the past weeks, but you only have yourself to blame, really.

Still, you lost no time in cupping her cheek, your touch a balm to her uncertainties. Your voice was soft as the winter's breeze.

"Oh, sweetheart. I didn't know you felt that way. I have not been paying enough attention to you lately, right?"

Her gaze held yours, a silent confirmation crossing the beautiful winter of her eyes.

“I would say that, yes.” Her voice was a hushed whisper, her body still close to yours. "I struggle to comprehend these emotions still. Rationally, I understand you cannot be with me at all times. But somehow, in the depths of me…” Vulnerability quivered in her voice, a fear laid bare that you rarely see. “I harbor the fear of losing you.”

You felt the birth of tears pressing behind your eyes, and your hands were fragile threads when they caressed her back. Offering some comfort for her or for you, you’re not entirely sure.

"And you feel like you’re losing me lately, my love?"

Shenhe nodded, her head coming to rest on the curve of your shoulder, her winter hair cascading down your neck and arm.

“I have tried to push away those feelings of worry. I have tried meditation, training, going down the Harbor to collect my thoughts. But even still…” She closed her eyes, leaning into your touch further. “I can feel these emotions eating away at me from within. I despise them. I shudder at the possibility of… Losing you for good.”

With a heavy chest, you cradled her face gently. You brushed her cheeks with the softest of touches, a gentle caress to the winter of her skin.

"Don’t push those feelings away, my heart. I’m glad you told me. And I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, I really am.” A soft smile struggles to bloom on your lips, brimming with understanding. “What can I do to make it better?"

Her sharp eyes soften around the corners at your words, her gaze studying your features with necessity, wanting to engrave it all in the heaven of her memory. In case. Just in case.

“I believe I would enjoy spending more time with you.” Her lips danced with hesitation, but her winter eyes held yours with that deep affection you’d learnt to recognize in all of her gestures. "Being with you… It makes me happy." 

Your chest swelled at her words, carrying all the tenderness you knew she harbored for you deep inside. You really couldn't help yourself. Your lips found her cheek, pressing a kiss to her tender skin, a loving gesture that conveyed just how deep your devotion for her ran. 

"Then, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll take this weekend off and we’ll go somewhere.” You took her hand in yours, playing with her long fingers. “Just the two of us, in a cabin by the mountains. We’ll have picnics and swim in rivers. How does that sound?"

You watched her expression painted with eagerness and anticipation, her winter eyes lighting up at the words leaving your lips.

“That certainly sounds enjoyable, my dear.” If you didn’t know her like you do, you wouldn’t be able to hear the bubbling excitement in her voice. But you did know her, and you saw the subtle way her lips curved, softer in her happiness. “It is bound to be a fantastic time with you. Just you and me, and the nature of the mountains.” Her fingers brushed your cheek, a tender touch that said so much, so much to you. “I promise to protect you from any danger we may encounter, my heart.”

You nodded, entirely too happy with the promise of happiness in the future, of how the situation has been healthily salvaged.

“Thank you, my love. And we can even make a campfire and roast some potatoes too!” Your lips brushed her temple in a fleeting kiss. “We can do anything you want. This weekend is all about you, Shenhe. And I’m yours, completely."

The weight of your words settled into her heart, a promise that resonated deeply, echoing in the chambers of her heart. You watched with delight her subtle smile growing into something playful, the faintest teasing gleam in her beautiful eyes.

“Oh, if that's the case…" She drew closer, her body pressed against yours in affectionate proximity, and you lost your breath altogether. "You don't quite know what you just signed up for."

Her gaze held yours, mischief dancing in her winter eyes, and you were suddenly so glad to have this conversation at all. You were really, really looking forward to those days with her.

The night begins to settle in, casting a soothing veil over the land of the wind, and you and your girlfriend Eula find yourselves taking a rest from the current mission you’re working on together. 

Staring at the city beyond, the ethereal glow of the Anemo lanterns lights up the streets, casting a warm, golden light in the buildings below. Around you, the gentle rustling of leaves comes with a cool, refreshing breeze that sweeps through the campsite, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers that flourish in the fields nearby. The hillsides around the camp are blanketed in a sea of emerald, the tall grasses swaying in harmony with the breeze. And you breathe in, leaning back in your elbows, feeling content.

"Isn't this a beautiful sight, my love?" 

You remark, your gaze still looking at the beautiful landscape around the two of you.

"I prefer to focus on the mission, but I suppose it is very picturesque."

How beautifully practical, your Eula. Her focus really is resolutely on the mission at hand and nothing more. You really expected nothing less from her. Still, a soft chuckle leaves your lips.

"Come on, stop thinking about that. It's late, and we should rest. We even set up the campfire. We'll resume the mission tomorrow."

Her hesitation is palpable in the air, but Eula finally nods her agreement. 

“Very well, if that’s what you wish. So long as it won't impede our progress tomorrow."

"I promise it won't."

You assure her, reaching out your hand to her. With a gentle tug, you draw her close, and your lips find hers in a tender kiss. You find delight in the way Eula’s cheeks quietly bloom with pink colors. You love her a little bit flustered, always.

“Don’t. I'm still on the job. I'd better make myself scarce.” She murmurs, her words a step between embarrassment and resolve.

You really can’t help yourself when she’s like this. You have to tease her.

"You're adorable when you're flustered, my dear.” 

"Don't tease me while I'm on the job, or I'll…!" 

You grin, a playful glint in your eyes, but Eula's voice trails off, her implication clear.

"Go on.” You prompt her, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You really can’t get enough of her.

"…Or I'll get my vengeance!”

A deeper blush warms up her features as the realization of her words hits her. She averts her gaze, hiding her flushed face where you can’t see her. Pity.

"Okay, okay. I won't tease you anymore." 

You concede, your hand finding its place over hers, a soothing gesture of breaching the distance. A peace offering. She lets you caress her skin gently for a moment. Then, Eula's voice takes on a quieter tone. 

"You know? I'm not used to this. To… Receiving affection like this."

Oh.

Your voice is gentle, almost tentative when you say,

"And how do you feel about it, my heart?"

Your thumb keeps tracing soothing patterns over her knuckles. You hope that helps ease the sudden tension that’s built between the two of you. Eula’s voice remains soft as she admits, 

"I feel that… It's a little embarrassing.” She shakes her head, locks of blue hair falling over her eyes. Then, she clears her throat, her demeanor entirely changed. “I'm on the job, as I mentioned. Could you please refrain from holding my hand for now? I can't quite concentrate on my duties if we keep this up."

Understanding her concern, you remove your hand and reposition yourself closer to her. You can’t help but feel disheartened, though.

"Of course… I respect that." A contemplative pause settles between you before you break it again. You really can’t keep the question festering inside. "Can I… Can I ask you something, Eula?"

She meets your gaze, curiosity and hesitancy drawn all over her glazy stare.

"Yes, what do you wish to ask?"

"Lately, I've noticed something different when you're around me," you begin, your gaze fixed on the dancing flames before you. The heat of the fire is an ironic contrast to the conversation you’re having. "Especially when I try to be affectionate. And I can't help but wonder…” You breathe in. Then, you let it all out. “Do you still want this? Us being together?"

The abruptness of your question takes Eula aback. Her sharp eyes widen, larger than you have ever seen her.

"What? Why… Why would you say something like that? After all, we both want the same thing, don't we? I'm not the type to give up on something once I've set my mind to it..."

Her tone turns frosty, the frown in her features deeper, and you find yourself surprised with the shift in her demeanor. Have you dug a breach between the two of you?

"You don’t have to be like that, Eula." You offer gently, your voice is a soft thing. "I just sense that there's more beneath the surface. I'm here to help, if you'll let me."

Her reply remains stern. She turns her face away from you again.

"You really don't have to worry about that. Your concern is unnecessary. I'm simply focused on the job. Nothing more."

Her response makes your chest feel tight, heavy with unpleasant emotions. Your voice carries a tinge of melancholy when you say, 

"I have no way of knowing what’s on your mind if… If you don't tell me, Eula. I mean well. I love you. But I don't want to force you into saying anything you're not comfortable with.” You take a deep breath, stealing glances at her, still turned away from you. “Just know that, should you wish to speak, I will gladly listen to what's troubling you, my heart."

Eula's voice wavers softly in the stillness between you.

"Even if I opened my heart to you, you wouldn’t understand... You might even end up hurting me.”

What?

"Why do you think that?"

You can’t help but ask, genuine concern lacing your words. Her response comes as a whisper, weighted with vulnerability. One she hadn’t allowed you to see before.

"My life is full of complicated issues. Even if I shared everything with you, you would never understand what drives me to do what I do…"

For a moment, you say nothing. But then, you let your hand tentatively find hers, softly in the way you touch her cold skin, despite the fire burning.

"Try me, my love." You encourage her, tender and gentle. "I want to understand."

And surprisingly, against all odds, Eula turns to you. Her winter eyes are heavy with everything you just don’t know yet, and then something else. Resolve.

With a sigh, Eula begins to open up. 

"You really want to hear it? Perhaps it’s best that I do not burden you with this…" Her tone wavers, a mix of hesitation and resignation. But she’s almost there. She just needs a little push.

"Nothing of yours could ever be a burden, my heart." You assure her, your grip on her hand gentle but oh, so firm. "I promise."

Resolute now, Eula continues. 

"Well, if you think you are able to face this, then I shall tell you. But you must listen closely. I've been harboring this secret for a long time now…"

Her voice drops to a whisper, the vulnerability in her words touching your heart and painting it blue. "I was once abandoned by someone close to me. Because of that, I am afraid of making myself vulnerable. Once I become intimate with someone, the threat of abandonment returns and causes me constant mental torment. This makes it difficult for me to accept the affection of others, even if deep in my heart I really do want it, perhaps more than anything else in the world… I do not wish to be seen as a weakling, so I refuse to acknowledge my weakness…"

A sigh escapes her lips as she pushes forward, revealing more of her inner thoughts for your ears only. 

"I don't know how to accept what you're giving me. You may already have figured this out, but I'm not very good at expressing or demonstrating my feelings. I fear I may be unable to give you what I want in return, which is a happy and normal relationship. I'm afraid, so frightened that I've shut you out and pushed you aside. If I allow myself to open my heart to you, I may only be met with more despair, betrayal… Disappointment…"

As her words die off, you let them hang in the air for just a moment, taking them all in. Eventually, your voice takes on a tender quality as you respond to her inner struggles. 

"I know you've been hurt in the past, but if you close yourself off to love and affection now, you might find yourself leading a very lonely life, Eula.” You stretch your hands out to her in offering. “I can only offer you what I have, words of love for you and a heart that swells when you're around. I don't mind waiting and taking things slow, if that would make you more comfortable. I just want to be by your side, if you'll let me."

Eula's gaze meets yours, a complex array of emotions shimmering within her beautiful eyes, and you feel the tightness in your chest a little more present.

"Perhaps I am the issue. That I am unable to accept your love and support… I can't bear the thought of losing you someday. I don't want you to leave me the way everyone else has… I am so terrified, and so lonely… And you… You are the only one who can understand me, so I can't bear to lose you, too.”

The vulnerability in her words overwhelms your heart, pushing you to take both of her hands in yours, pressing a tender kiss to each of her fingers. Loving, loving, loving. 

"You won't lose me. Not tonight, or in the foreseeable future. I promise, Eula. I will stay with you as long as you want me to."

And to that, to your gentle words of affection, to the tenderness in your touch, to the gentleness of your lips against her cold fingers, Eula’s beautiful eyes fill with tears.

“Thank you…”

She leans her head against your shoulder, finally, finally allowing herself a moment of peace. You hold her close, fast and quickly, like you can’t bear the thought of not taking her in your arms now, caressing her back slowly.

“I won’t try to push my affection on you anymore, okay? We’ll go at your pace. I’m just happy to be with you.”

And when Eula pulls you close to her, closer still, her chest pressed against yours with an intimacy far too beautiful to oversee, you find your answer tucked there.

“Thank you… Thank you for waiting for me all this time… I promise to repay your love tenfold.”

She presses a kiss on your cheek, then leans her head on your shoulder and gazes up at the beautiful stars above. And you think that waiting can’t be a terrible thing. Not if you can hold her as closely for just a moment longer.

"That was such good training, my love!" You exclaim, offering her a towel to wipe off the exertion after a long session of bow practice that you’ve been witnessing for the better part of the last hour. "You did great."

Sara bows in acknowledgment, a gracious and beautiful smile on her lips.

"Thank you very much! I always give it my best. If I am able to keep training and become stronger, then I can help protect more people. The people I care about are always on my mind, and I want to do the best I can to help them. My love for the people I care about is the reason I train day and night."

Your smile softens as you take in her dedication. It’s one of the many, many things you adore about her.

"I really admire how dedicated you are, my love."

Sara’s smile grows, radiating a sense of purpose, feeling good with your compliment.

"I am glad you can see that I am truly dedicated to the people we care about. With the help of my fellow samurai, I do everything I can to ensure that Inazuma is a safe place for everyone."

"You're so strong." You murmur, your gaze lifting to meet hers. Your chest swells with affection. And then, something else. "I can't help but…"

"Cannot help but what, my love?” Sara's brow arches in curiosity as she waits for you to continue. When you don’t reply, she insists. “What's on your mind? You know you can tell me anything."

You hesitate, your words carrying a hint of self-doubt, terrible in your ears.

"Oh, never mind. It's silly."

"My love, nothing is ever silly when you share it with me. Your thoughts, no matter how trivial they may seem, are important to me.” With gentle insistence, Sara steps closer to you, her hands finding a place for them on your shoulders. “If something's on your mind, please, don't hesitate to tell me."

A wistful smile tugs at your lips. 

"Well… I can't help but feel that I'm way out of my league here… Being with you…"

Oh, how stupid you feel the moment those words leave your lips. You regret them immediately.

But Sara's touch is comforting as she steps toward you, her presence reassuring like she’s always been, a source of comfort and love where you always find your shelter and home. 

"My love, you are never out of your league when it comes to me. I do not care about positions or statuses. All I care about when I'm with you is you. You will always be enough for me, no matter what."

"But… You're such a strong and resilient warrior, and I'm just… me." You shrug, a sense of vulnerability creeping into your words. You’ve started this. May as well go all the way, let your inner most troubles shine through in the dim light of the evening sun. "There's got to be someone out there who's better for you, I…"

Sara's voice resonates with a deep sincerity as she addresses your concerns, cutting them short. 

"My love, I have searched far and wide across the continent for someone who could fill the empty space in my heart. Yet, when I found you, that emptiness vanished as if you were the missing piece I'd been looking for.” Her voice is stern, but her eyes are so filled with poorly-hidden affection for you. “I couldn't want anyone more than you, and I mean that with all my heart. You are the one for me, and I don't wish for anyone else but you."

You cannot help but be moved by her words, your eyes welling up with unshed tears, carrying all your doubts. 

"You mean it?"

Sara leans forward, her gentle touch wiping away your tears. The brush of her thumb across the tender skin of your cheeks is so gentle that you can’t fight the closing of your eyes.

"My love, I mean it with every fiber of my being. There is no one else but you for me. I am happier than I've ever been, and I know that being with you is exactly where I'm meant to be. You are the person I needed, and I'm not leaving your side."

You clutch onto her clothing, as if grounding yourself in her presence. You know you might be a little selfish, asking for this much reassurance, but you can’t help but want more. To need more of her.

"You really mean those words? You won't leave me?" 

Sara's touch remains tender as she cups your cheek, and you melt in the way her eyes brim with love for you. 

"My love, my words carry the weight of my truth. I don't wish to leave your side, now or ever. I don't know how much longer it would take for my heart to mend if you were to leave. I'm not sure it ever would. I will do everything in my power to ensure we are never separated. You are the only one I need, and I don't desire anyone else in my life."

Your vulnerability defrosts in her arms as she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your lips bloom into a smile. Quiet, small. But it’s a beginning.

"Thank you for saying that… You have no idea how much it means to me."

"My love, every word is sincere.” Sara assures you, her voice a soothing balm to the scars and stitches hidden in your heart. "You are such an integral part of my life, and I'm grateful every day for having you. You mean a great deal to me as well, and I can't fathom what life would be without you."

And with that, you cannot help yourself. You reach up, holding the side of her face as you lean to her. Your lips find hers in a tender kiss. And you whisper,

"I love you.”

Of course, Sara is quick to smile at that, beautiful and reverent.

"I love you too, my dear." She doesn’t hesitate to say, the affection evident in her tone. "I consider myself fortunate to have found you."

Apologizing for your sentimentality, you sheepishly admit, "Sorry for being sappy."

But still, you watch Sara chuckle warmly, pulling you into a gentle embrace that you absolutely enjoy, taking her all in.

"My love, there's no need to apologize. There's no such thing as being too sappy. Expressing your emotions is a beautiful thing, and it's heartwarming to see how much you care. Don't hesitate to share your love with me."

With a contented smile, you lean in closer. Closer still.

"Shall we do something fun now? After this heartfelt conversation?"

You delight in the way Sara's eyes light up with enthusiasm. For your eyes only. How lucky you feel.

"That sounds wonderful, my love. How about a visit to the beach or a peaceful picnic? Those are two of my favorite ways to unwind and enjoy time with the ones I cherish."

"The beach sounds perfect." You smile, your excitement mirroring hers. "It's been a while since we've enjoyed the sea together."

"I would love that." She replies to you with a gentle smile, colored with all the love she harbors for you in every inch of her being. "I'm sure the beach is just as breathtaking as I remember. It's been far too long since I've felt the sea breeze and the warmth of the sun. It's the ideal way to spend an afternoon, together."

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking or reblogging it <3!

You can check more of my writing on (this link!). Thank you!

[milkmily]

König headcanons

Just some headcanons of this man cuz I absolutely adore him and God I want him sm. There will be nsfw stuff too cuz I want him yeah...

I feel like König loves legos. Has a wall collection of them in his room. Makes him happy to see how small they are. It's also kind of satisfying to him. Calms him down. Does get mad when he loses or can't find a piece tho.

He doesn't get a lot of them though. Because he eventually doesn't have a space for them. So he gets small ones like minecraft. He has the mushroom one.

He will get you legos if you love legos.

"Hey König, we should get the flower legos and build them together." You say as you show him a picture of them. You looked them up and said never mind. Too expensive. He didn't like that you looked upset. So a week later…

"Liebling(darling), I got us something." He says as he holds the box of Lego flowers. "Aww, König." You walked up to him and kissed him.

König was shy at first when it came to kisses. He had his mask on when you two kissed for the first time. He was sent on a dangerous mission. "König." You say and he looked down at you. He had his bag full of his gear ready to leave. "Yes Liebling?" You lift up his mask, only showing his mouth, and gently kiss him. "Be careful."

He works in the military, of course he will get them even if they are expensive.

Knows how to draw and its in a cartoonish style.

Draws you two kissing hehehehe

He was thinking about that kiss the whole day, weeks even.

When he wanted more kisses, he asked shyly. But as he gets used to them, he just kisses you whenever he can. Loves kisses sm.

Our king loves big girls :)

Loves them thick and chunky, rolls and everything.

He loves to run his hands on your curves and rolls when kissing you.

König doesn't really take care of his hair. He does to his facial hair. Just not his hair. You'll have to point out that his hair has been getting longer and he eventually goes to the barber to get it cut.

He shoves his clothes in the drawer. Doesn't have time to organize his stuff. He does organize them sometimes, but he later on gives up.

Does sometimes keep his mask on around the house. And when going out, he always wears a normal black mask.

He loves cuddles, mostly when he gets to be a little spoon. Loves being the little spoon.

Likes to share clothes. Either he shares his with you or you share yours with him, he still loves to share clothes. If your clothes are bigger than his, you will end up losing 4 shirts. They will be his.

If your clothes are smaller and you wear his, he will let you. Gladly will. He loves seeing you with his clothes on. Just don't take his Favorite shirts.

Has a cat. A white fluffy cat that he named snowballs and he spoils her a lot. Gives her the best food and treats, cute clothes, and always has her clean. Gives her whatever she wants. He loves his Snowballs and Snowballs loves him.

Amazing at cooking. Fabulous at cooking. On dates if you don't feel like going out, no worries, you have your own chef at home.

His mom taught him how to cook. He just learned from the best.

Mama's boy. His mom sends him so many gifts and letters. So does he. "Oh, I should get this for Mama." He says whenever you two go shopping. He sees a cute letter, he has to get it for his mom.

He once sent her flowers on her birthday and she absolutely adored them.

His mom will send you letters and baby pictures of König naked in the bath. König becomes a blushing mess when he sees his mom sent you a picture of him in school.

You two definitely have something that matches. Bracelet, shirt, socks, even underwear.

He likes it when you run your hands in his hair when you two are sleeping. Makes him fall asleep faster. He does struggle with falling asleep sometimes, but feels more comforted when you are sleeping with him.

"Oh they added pickles to my food…" Konig says as he lifts the top bun up only to be surprised by disgusting pickles. "Oh, no worries, you can go tell them to make you a new one."

"N-No! It's fine!" He anxiously says. "I can simply take it o-"

"We are going." You grab the burger and König. You go to the register and say, "Excuse me, he asked for no pickles." You say as you hold out the burger.

"Please, it's alright. I can simply take it off." He whispered and you shook your head.

Or

If you also have very bad social anxiety (like me), it will go like this.

"Aw… they added pickles…" König says disappointed and you lift your bun up. "Aw… they added mine too." You say and look at König. "Let's just take it off." You say and he nods. Having to order for the burger when you two entered was stressful, imagine the stress it will be when asking for a new one. Nope.

You two happily enjoy your food.

He doesn't know how to dance at all. He tried to dance at a school party and he kept stepping, bumping, and getting tripped by people. Dancing isn't his thing. Plus, he is too tall and his date couldn't exactly slow dance with him due to his hight. Never again tried to dance.

He definitely got told in school to read louder or a student would yell, "I can't hear him teacher!" As a joke

Will try to teach you how to defend yourself in case an enemy finds out about you or an intruder gets in the house.

Love it when you two are matching. Again, you two have almost everything that matches. Even plushies.

Oh, he definitely owns a huge squishmellow. Loves to hug it and lay on top of it or it being at top of him.

He has stupid shirts that say the dumbest thing ever. But he only wears them at home.

Like one that says:

"Don't bully me

I'll cum"

And:

"Reasons why I'm single:

× hideous

× too picky

✔️ dick too big, might just kill someone"

Too anxious to wear it out and have eyes on him if he wears them out.

Likes it when you kiss his neck. Sexual or non Sexual way. He loves to feel your lips on him all the time.

NSFW

You aren't König's first. He did have past partners. And when it came to sex, it was a struggle. Had to always check up on them.

König loves to eat you. Loves being in between your legs and sucks on your sensitive clit while he fingers you. Asking if you like it, if he is doing good.

"Am I doing good?" He asked as he went back to sucking on your clit. "Yes…yes baby, so good for me."

He humps on the mattress while he eats you out.

Cock warming drives him fucking crazy but he loves it. The fact he can't move his hips at all makes him whiney and wants to cry. "P-Please, let me move." He begged. You Slightly moved your hips and made him through his head back, letting out a loud moan. "Not yet, baby." You say

He always makes sure if you are alright when he goes in. He doesn't want to hurt you at all and wants you to feel good.

He likes to be praised so much. Loves praises. Loves it when he gets told how good he is and how big he is.

He loves it when you top him. He gets all whiney and obeys every order you tell him. "Yes ma'am." Is what he will always say to you.

He likes it when you sit on his face. König loves thighs and loves it when you squeeze his head with your thick thighs. He does not care about oxygen needed in him when he is happily eating you out.

HE MOANS LOUD EHRHDJWNEHRH

He moans so loud you sometimes have to cover his mouth while you ride him. His eyes roll to the back of his head when this happens. He tries his best to keep low but you just feel good :(

König also loves it when you kiss him to keep in the moans. The kiss becomes so sloppy and wet.

He loves the marks you leave on him. Makes him weak.

He likes his nipples touched and sucked.

Idk if he is more of a boobie or thigh guy. Maybe both.

If you have big boobs, he will fucking suck, bite and be in them while you fuck him.

Anyways, I can take him(not in a fight)

[lendeah]

Hey I saw ur recent thing about astarion/durge w scars and I raise to Astarion/Tav with a shit ton of scars they actually do have stories for (either really dumb or really cool or kinda traumatic) and astarry just lovingly traces them and asks about them

YES!!! I love the idea.

Here you go, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for asking! 🤍🫶🏻

Astarion loved tracing the little scars dotting your body. Even in moments of exhaustion, as you both lay on the bedroll after a arduous day of battle, he would gently trace the intricate lines of your skin with lazy fascination.

"Now, I bet this one has a story worth hearing," he drawls, caressing with his finger along the long scar on your arm.

You let out a small chuckle and decide to humor him. "This one here? That was from a sword fight. I was trying to protect my brother because he had been having an affair with a married woman, and it got pretty intense. I ended up taking a pretty bad hit, but luckily I lived through it."

The vampire cocks an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "So let me get this straight," he drawls, "you got this scar defending your brother's honor from a scorned lover? Sounds like your brother could have used some self-defense lessons."

You shrug "I guess, but he is my brother. I couldn't just let him struggle on his own. Besides, I'm the better fighter of the two of us." you say with a smirk.

A mischievous chuckle escapes his lips, "Always the hero, huh?" he lets out a resigned sigh, but his eyes glint playfully. "You know, your stubborn selflessness isn't the most attractive trait."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what is my most attractive trait to you?"

Astarion chuckles, then brings his cold fingers to your forehead, gently brushing the skin there, "This scar above your eye? It's quite the attractive feature. Really adds to your whole intimidating aura," he purrs, "I must hear the tale behind it."

You roll your eyes, trying not to let his teasing get to you. "Ugh, that one gave me nightmares for weeks." You say with a grimace. "I was being chased by an angry tabern owner because I may or may not have stolen some of his ale. Anyway, he caught up to me and I fought him off as best as I could, but he still managed to get a knife to my face." You shudder at the memory and the thought of your mother's scolding afterwards.

Astarion chuckles, "Oh darling, you? Stealing? And ale, of all things? Positively scandalous. I find it hard to believe."

You give him a playful glare, "Oh please, I was young and reckless. Plus, the ale was really good."

He shakes his head in disbelief, but the fondness in his eyes is unmistakable. As he takes your hand in his, his soft fingers tracing over the familiar lines and curves, you feel a warmth spread through your chest. His thumb gently traces the jagged scar on your palm, "This one looks like a fish bone" He says with a smirk.

You roll your eyes "Yeah, well, I got that one in an attempt to save my friends when I was young." you say "We were out at sea enjoying the warm weather, when suddenly a massive creature emerged from the depths. It had razor-sharp teeth and writhing tentacles, and before we knew it, our boat was under attack. I reached out to help my friends and next thing I know, I'm tangled up in this thing's grasp. Thank the gods a wizard happened to witness our struggle and put down the beast. Lesson learned: never underestimate the power of the ocean's creatures."

He rolls his eyes back, "Of course the heroic, strong, selfless and pretty one would make something like that sound like a normal and not crazy thing to do." He looks back at your hand, "But no worries, darling, your hand is just fine. In fact, it's quite charming in its own rugged way." He says, taking your palm to his lips, making you shiver. Despite his teasing, there is a genuine admiration in his voice that warms your heart. His hand then moves up to cup your cheek. "You certainly have an interesting collection of scars."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a mix of happiness and vulnerability. No one has ever taken the time to truly listen to your stories before, let alone find them interesting. But with Astarion, it feels different, like he sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all.

"Back home, some people said I was a monster because of them" you say, gesturing to the marks on your body, "but I like them, I think they all have a story behind them worth telling."

Astarion raises an eyebrow, "People called you a monster? What foolishness."

You shrug, "It's just how things were back in my hometown. They were afraid of anything different or out of the ordinary."

A playful glint dances in his eyes and his sharp fangs glisten. "Oh, I'm sure I'm a real nightmare to them," he quips with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, "Well, it's not every day someone meets a charming vampire like yourself."

Astarion leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your skin. "You know, I never tire of hearing your stories. You always manage to surprise me."

You feel your cheeks flush at his words, but before you can respond, Astarion leans in and presses his lips against yours softly. It's sweet and gentle, but also filled with unspoken words and emotions, and you can't help but wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you both lose yourselves in each other.

When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathless and smiling. "I could listen to your stories all day," he murmurs.

"Well, lucky for you I have plenty more where those came from." you reply with a teasing grin. "Ah, but what about your scars?"

Astarion's playful smirk returns as he starts tracing your skin again. "Oh, mine? They come from a life of bloodlust and and danger."

[circuscountdowns]

Hi! Wanted to start off by saying that I LOVE your cotl art its such a huge inspiration to me :D! I recently picked up drawing again and I've unfortunately been upset? envious?! of others' skills and just wanted to ask if you ever experienced this as a fellow artist and if so how do you not do that lol. Sorry for the weird question. I just thought some insight and advice from a fellow artist could helo. BUT I hope you still have a nice day and look forward to any more cotl art or anything you draw really :D!!! (also is okay if you don't answer it is a loaded question I just be in a silly goofy mood lately okay bye!)

oh wow being on the receiving end of a question like this is surreal, I’m honored my work inspires you! Thank u, you’re sweet, it’s not a loaded question at all! Here’s my long reply sorry

so unfortunately that comparing yourself to others thing doesn’t go away ever asdfgjkl. I suffer it every day, it sucks, feels bad. I’ve had industry people tell me they feel this way and they’ll have some of the most gorgeous visdev/boards/animation I’ve ever seen. Disheartening to hear, But! I’m a big believer that comparing your artworks with others is best used as a tool and not a punishment to yourself!

When looking at art you like, try to turn thoughts of, “Man I wish my stuff looked like that, my shit sucks,” to, “What is it that I like about this piece? The line art? The perspective?” Sometimes I’ll see work with thin line art and I’ll get an itch, and I’ll draw something with thin line art. It’s a conscious effort of keepin emotion out of that itch, keeping it as, “I saw art with thin lines, I want to do that. Yay I did that!” Compartmentalize it, the itch was simply to do thin line work, not to remake the piece you were inspired by. And you got a piece of art out of it, and a single piece is progress no matter how small!

If you want to compare, do it methodically! Why does my work look different (never use the words better or worse)! Oh, I see my piece doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, so the framing is different, I’ll be aware of that next time if it bothers me. Or, Oh I see they shade by hatching along with the form, I’ve just been going horizontally, I’ll try that other way!

it’s a learning curve of training yourself, like all corrective behavior.

like, I kinda have the warning feeling of dread when I’m about to compare my work with something, so before the self-deprecating thought can even start I have to think What do I Like about this?

I’m no expert at it, though. Actually getting myself to think this way is a struggle, but I find when I make Thoughtful Observations I level up. Not by a lot most times, but yknow.

and this part is just my personal experience:

Fanart and the internet can be the biggest Art skill killer sometimes. Get offline and cater to the audience that Really matters to your passion: You! I improved the most by spending 2-3 years doing doodles/comics/models for my dnd campaign ocs because I was that obsessed and I simply wanted to have it for me!

and after all that, then there’s the hardest skill of just accepting your work as is.

like, to me, my work is just scribbles. I see other artists’ stuff and go “Man they’re so good at comics and colors, man, why can’t I color?” But do I need to??? I don’t like coloring, do I need to be good at it? This isn’t a career, this is supposed to be fun! I scribble because I like it! I’m glad this persons good at coloring, I don’t need to be! Yay!

if I Want to be good at it, I’ll take the steps to get there! But if not, my scribbles are just fine :) I love black and white and values

I’ve been having that one on repeat for a while. It helps

(acceptance and denial go hand in hand btw lol they sound the same)

I wish there was a little off button for envy, but ah well! I hope that you take comfort in knowing we are all feeling it, and find joy in even the smallest little doodle you make! Have fun stay goofy!

[goodlucktai]

i’ve got my eye on you

tmnt 2k12 pairing: don & mikey word count: 2k title borrowed from say yes to heaven by lana del ray

read on ao3

x

“Mikey?” Donnie says, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. “Can I talk to you?”

Mikey looks up from the dough he’s kneading with round eyes, more bewildered than anything. No one ever asks if they can talk to Mikey. His presence in his family’s lives is like sunlight falling on the planet, warm and touching everything and taken for granted. They can always talk to Mikey.

So Don’s question is a weird one, but Mikey doesn’t mention it.

“Pull up some counter, Dee,” he offers instead, patting at the one square foot of the surface that isn’t covered in flour. His fingers leave little clouds behind. “I’m almost done.”

Donnie props his hip against the island and leans there to watch his little brother work. Mikey’s ADHD is textbook in a lot of ways, unpredictable in many others; it’s definitely been a fun learning curve for his family. Don did a lot of research. He’s read that generally people with Mikey’s disorder tend to struggle with tasks like cooking, that it can be an outright Herculean task remembering to eat or even just mustering the energy to feed themselves.

But Mikey loves his kitchen. He gravitates towards it in all his different moods. It gives his pinballing thoughts and restless hands something constructive to focus on with a clear and present reward at the end.

Right now he seems pleased with the dough and gathers it up in a neat little ball before transferring it to a greased mixing bowl and covering it tightly with plastic wrap. When the bowl has been safely stored in the fridge to proof, Donnie joins Mikey in wiping down the counter, mostly for something to do with his hands.

Something’s baking in the oven. Music is playing on Mikey’s phone across the room, acoustic and downbeat and soothing. This room is where everyone in their entire extended family comes to feel safe, even if they don’t know or won’t admit it.

“So listen,” Don finally says. “About earlier. During the race?”

A grin splits Mikey’s face, likely remembering all the fun he had. They’d been looking forward to the ninja race for weeks, ever since Leo first floated the idea.

Leo has come a long way as sensei. It was hard at first, finding his feet, acclimating to this additional burden piled on top of all the ones he already had to carry, but maybe not as hard as it should have been. Leo has always been more of a second parent than a sibling to the rest of them. He’s always been the one they ran to first, even when Splinter was alive; the boy who had to grow up too fast, the one who tried his dad’s oversized jacket on over and over through the years until one day he was surprised to find he had outgrown it.

All this to say—Leo can always tell when his little siblings and pseudo-siblings are due for a break. He poured hours into planning this event, all for his tiny clan of six, and it really showed. The race was part relay, part scavenger hunt, stretching for miles back and forth across Manhattan.

They drew cards out of a bucket to decide pairs, divvying up into three teams of two. When Casey drew the card that matched Mikey’s, he lit up with a manic grin and whipped his head around, a reaction Donnie wasn’t expecting.

“Oh hell yeah!” the human whooped, lifting both hands over his head for a double high-five. “We’re gonna make this night our bitch!”

“Language!” Leo barked, scandalized, like they each hadn’t already heard—and said—a lot worse.

Mikey, for his part, slapped his palms against Casey’s, giggling madly. Donnie looked between the two of them with a frown forming on his face. He had the distinct feeling that he missed something. They all tended to live out of each other’s pockets anymore, trauma-bonding at its worst. Its best? Whatever. If Mikey and Casey were buddies, Donnie would know.

They were both adrenaline junkies, sure. They both liked going fast, living on the edge. As a ninja clan, that was sort of the norm anyway.

But Mikey in particular could outrun anyone in his family any day of the week. Nothing moved fast enough for him. They tried to keep up with him, but sometimes he got too far ahead. He wanted to walk on his hands to feel the grit of asphalt on his palms and the blood rush to his head, or spin in circles in front of the stove while the water boiled, or cartwheel during katas because morning meditation ran too long and his full quota of focus was all used up.

Understimulated, touch-starved, eager for attention, desperate for—something.

Donnie just didn’t realize how desperate until he and Leo crossed paths with Casey and Mikey halfway through the race. From the rooftop, Donnie could see that the token the other boys were gunning for was on the opposite side of the BQE—across five lanes, up on the massive signage structure towering above the expressway. They were on the wrong side when they spotted it.

Smugly, Donnie thought, Tough luck—they’ll have to find a way around. That’s gonna cost them some time.

And then Mikey flew over the guardrail, sprinting straight out into traffic.

Donnie’s heart jumped up into his throat and stayed there.

He was rooted to the spot, like someone watching a train barrel down the tracks toward an inevitable collision. His body forgot how to breathe.

It took his little brother all of fifty seconds to dodge box trucks and SUVs like it was a children’s game, to a chorus of blaring horns from drivers that did not slow down. An eighteen-wheeler missed him by a foot.

Mikey scaled the structure, retrieved the token, and shoved it into the pocket of his over-sized hoodie. Then he waved both arms back at Casey, and pointed down at the guardrail immediately behind him, clearly indicating that they should regroup underneath the overpass. They both disappeared from view on their respective sides of the freeway, off to the next leg of the scavenger hunt.

Don just stood there numbly watching cars go by until Leo doubled back for him.

Raphael and April won the race by all of four minutes—and with it bragging rights to last the next two months, unfortunately for everyone else—but Mikey was in high spirits the whole way home anyway, bouncing with every step. Their brothers must have assumed it was those endorphins from a full night of high-speed play doing their job.

Leo rubbed the top of Mikey’s head with his knuckles fondly, and Raph said something like, “God, you just don’t slow down, do ya?” because they had no idea. They didn’t see it.

Donnie trailed silently at the back of the group, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, his eyes, his hands. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mikey, afraid of what might happen if he let his guard down for even a second, replaying that scene on the expressway over and over and over. It took him hours to muster the courage to finally approach his baby brother in the kitchen.

And now they’re standing here together, and Mikey is humming under his breath, hands beginning to tap restlessly on the countertop. Donnie’s going to lose him in a matter of minutes. Trying to think of a delicate way to say it is getting him nowhere. He takes a page out of Raph’s book and just barrels in.

“I saw you run across the BQE for a token,” he blurts.

Mike tilts his head the way Icky does when she hears something she doesn’t understand. On one hand, he doesn’t deny he did it. On the other, more alarming hand, he also looks blatantly confused about why Donnie thinks it’s worth a discussion.

“We had to get the tokens to win,” Mikey points out, like Don isn’t the one who helped Leo with the rules and regulations.

Clenching his fists, and then folding his arms so Mikey can’t see his fists are clenched, Donnie says, “You wanted to win that bad, Mike?”

He can’t stop seeing the speeding cars; the smear of headlights in the dark; Mikey weaving his way across the lanes, his figure tiny and almost indistinguishable from the rooftop where Don was watching.

Donnie’s remarkable imagination provided the additional details: the way displaced air would have sucked at Mikey’s clothes at each near miss. The sting of the hot asphalt under his feet. The passing lights lighting up his face in fits and bursts, for seconds at a time, and maybe something distracted him—maybe there was a piece of glass or metal on the road and it cut him or he tripped—maybe a reckless driver merged lanes without warning—maybe, maybe, maybe one of a hundred things happened and Mikey was captured or maimed or killed, ripped away from his family because of a stupid, needless risk he took during a game.  

They’ve been dragged through war, outer space, time travel. They’ve all been hurt before, in big ways and small ones. It's just. It’s different this time, because it was a game.

Maybe Donnie should be angry at Casey for enabling this behavior. Casey may not be their brother by blood but he’s their brother by every other known metric science has to offer and he should have dragged Mikey off the expressway by the hood of his stupid pink sweatshirt and lit into him for being so reckless the way Leo, April, Raph and Donnie all would have.

But Casey has his own reasons for doing what he does—a dead mom, an alcoholic father, a little sister CPS took away—and if he were a regular, neurotypical, well-adjusted teenager, he never would have put on his painted mask in the first place. He never would have fallen into Donnie’s family.

Casey would have been the one to run into traffic if Mikey hadn't beaten him to it.

Like recognizes like. That’s why they were thrilled to be on each other’s team. They’re both chasing something. They both have too much going on inside their heads to ever just be still.

And Mikey is always all smiles, always the first to offer his siblings a hug or a shoulder to lean on or a safe place to hide from the rest of the world and something sweet to eat in the meantime. Mikey, who hasn’t cried in front of his brothers once since the night their father died, who hasn’t come into Donnie’s lab after a nightmare in even longer than that. He smiles and plays and supports everyone and gives them reasons to run and shout and vent frustrations and groan in exasperation and laugh until they get sick.

No one has to ask the sun to shine, it just does that. And it will until it runs out of fuel, some five billion years from now. The star death was always going to be inevitable. Constant output, finite resources. Nuclear fusion that will hopefully last for as long as it needs to, but not forever.

The sun will get tired one day, and then it’s not going to shine anymore.

“Dee?” Mikey says loudly, in a tone that makes it sound like he’s been saying it over and over. Donnie blinks and he’s back in the kitchen, and Mikey is in front of him, more than a bit confused, more than a bit worried, but here and safe and whole.

Not even a scratch. If Don hadn’t seen it, he never would have known it happened.

He unfolds his arms and opens them. He doesn’t need to say anything for his little twin to spring forward, their plastrons colliding with a solid knock that would have winded a human person. The counters are clean but Mikey is still covered in flour and so Don is covered in flour now, too, and it’s wafting to the floor in tiny cloudbursts every time they move.

It’s the kind of mess Splinter would have made them stop and clean up. But it’s not hurting anything to let the kitchen be a little messy. And it’s Mikey’s kitchen. It’s the one place in the world where what he says goes.

He winds his smaller arms around Donnie’s shell and squeezes as tight as he can. Smushes his cheek against Don’s shoulder because he isn’t tall enough to hook his chin over it the way he’d probably like to. He’s warm and he smells like butter and baked bread and summer and boy. He’s survived every single thing he’s ever done.

Donnie closes his eyes and tries to replace the lights he can still see on the freeway with the ones here at home.  

“Can I be on your team next time?” he says.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it,” Mikey agrees instantly. His voice is shaped so much like a toothy grin that Don can see it without looking. Mike doesn’t even know why he’s promising it, just that Donnie needs him to. “We’ll do a clean sweep, nobody’ll know what hit ‘em. B Team’s the Best Team, baby!”

He’s everything warm and light and safe about Donnie’s whole world, and he doesn’t seem to understand how dark every day would be without him. He doesn’t know what he would be taking from his family if he took himself away.

Donatello’s other siblings are self-destructive in obvious ways. Michelangelo, who is loud and obnoxious and has never known a secret he could keep for longer than a day, is somehow more subtle about it.

But now Donnie sees it. He knows what to look for.

[pleasestaywithmedarling]

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin: Part XIX

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see end note for content warning

All Kiri knew was fear.

Sights and sounds and sensations changed ceaselessly:

Hands running through her hair.

Hot breath on her ear.

Eyes watching, always watching.

A weight in her hand.

If she looked at it, the darkness would find her.

Her arm burning, the skin ripping apart, black pouring out.

Black pouring out and pooling at the floor and rising higher and higher.

She was going to drown and she clamped her hand over her mouth and nose because she couldn’t breathe it in or she was going to drown.

A hand that wasn’t hers clamping over her mouth and something moist and sharp sucking at the base of her throat.

Her jaw ripped apart and flesh oozing inside.

She shrieked and shoved and Edric was on the ground covered in blood and the brick was in her hand but the brick was a knife and Edric was Anden and what had she done what had she

Blackness over and around and inside her.

Hands everywhere, so many hands stopping her, holding her, caressing her.

She couldn’t escape.

She was going to drown.

The darkness had found her.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Kiri.”

It wasn’t. No, it wasn’t—the darkness—

“It’s not real. None of it’s real, you’re okay.”

This was a trick. It must be. Because the hands pressed firmly against her spine were real—she could feel the pressure of each fingertip. The arms wrapped around her were too solid to be imagined, holding her flush to a flat chest—she could feel the collarbone pressed into her temple.

It was real—he was real. He was all around her and she had to get away. She struggled and shoved, and she heard a grunt of pain, but the arms never loosened their grip on her.

“I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon. I’m so sorry.”

His shoulders were shaking. A drop of water landed on her head, just where her hair was parted. Something coarse brushed her forehead—a beard.

Edric didn’t have a beard.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

That voice.

Only then did Kiri realize that her eyes were screwed shut, but she was too scared to open them, too scared she would see that she was wrong.

“A—Anden?”

A warm, relieved sigh grazed her scalp. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. I’m here.”

The hands around her tightened their hold, and for a moment she stiffened, because he was everywhere and she couldn’t escape. But there was nothing to escape from, because this was Anden.

She was safe with Anden.

“I see the ainok is wearing off.”

Kiri’s eyes flew open. She knew that voice, too.

“Take them back to their cells. And see that our Vessel of Purity is fitted with a pair of mitts—perhaps she’s finally learned her lesson, but I’ll not risk it.”

Her vision swam; she couldn’t make sense of where she was or what was happening as reality came to her in a tidal wave of distorted images. Suddenly even her anchor was ripped from her, because Anden’s arms were no longer around her. Too many people were too close to her. She couldn’t see around them—where was Anden? Whimpering, she tried to pull away from the hands on her arms, tugging at her hair, fumbling at the back of her neck. As a heavy weight was lifted from around her throat, she took in a shuddering breath, wondering what it had been and why she was so afraid to remember.

The cold stone walls appeared to be slanting to the right before her sight left her almost entirely. When it returned, Emitis’ cold, dark eyes were looking down at her. “I pray the ainok was illuminating. May you always fear the wrath of Vato.”

Ainok. Yes, there was the bandage tied at her arm; to her it appeared both far away and too close, but it really was there. Why? Why had—

Two guards shuffled through carrying between them a third, unmoving and bloodied. His face was mangled, though maybe it was only Kiri’s unfocused eyes that made it look so misshapen. That nose, though—she recognized the curve of it, and she could feel it pressed against hers as a long tongue wormed its way into her mouth.

Edric—he’d tried to—

His hands—oh gods, his hands had been everywhere, even—

Doubling over, Kiri heaved the contents of her stomach onto the floor.

The next thing she knew, she was in her cell, and a hand was around her wrist—Edric—

But no, it couldn’t be Edric. She couldn’t see—gods, the whole room was spinning now—but it couldn’t be Edric.

He was dead. She’d killed him.

Though her hand was released, there was still a tight grip around her wrist that she couldn’t make sense of, and soon that same grip encircled her other wrist as well. Whoever had been holding her upright let her go, and she twisted as she dropped hard to the floor. When she caught herself, a sharp pain bloomed across her knuckles, and she couldn’t make sense of it. She stared down at her hands, but where her hands should be there were only strange lumps covered in brown leather, and she could not make any sense of it at all.

Where were her hands?

Gods, the room wouldn’t stop spinning. Squeezing her eyes shut, she collapsed back onto her pallet, which she was fairly certain was real, and wept as she felt Edric’s crushing weight over her, which she was fairly certain wasn’t real.

But it had been. It had been real.

She was too exposed. Somewhere in here she had a blanket, didn’t she? Too afraid to open her eyes, she began groping around her for it, only to realize that something was very wrong.

That was right: they had taken her hands.

If there had been anything left in her stomach, it would have made its way to the cell floor.

Shuffling until her back hit the wall, she curled in on herself, her not-hands buried into the skirt of her shift so that she didn’t have to think about them. When she felt herself drifting off to sleep, she forced her eyes open. The cell bars weren’t moving quite as much as they had been before, and she couldn’t fall asleep, not now.

If she slept, the darkness could find her again.

There were voices coming in from the outer chamber; she recognized the healer priestess’ and one of the temple guards’—not Edric, not Edric, he’s dead—and suddenly, mercifully, there was Anden. Breathing deeply, she tried to ignore the way he swam in and out of focus, afraid that if she took her eyes off of him for even a moment he would disappear. His cell door shut with a clang, and, startled, she pressed herself harder into the wall at her back as she tried to find the danger that had her whole body on such high alert. But how could she find it when the room wouldn’t stop spinning?

“Kiri?”

“Anden?” She tried to focus on him, but he was so far away. “You’re—you’re real?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m real.” At the sound of his voice, she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. But he sounded so strained.

“Did—did they hurt you? I don’t—I don’t remember.” Heart racing, she tried to think back, but all she could recall was Edric—he’s dead, he’s dead—and an awful, grotesque pool of black. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t—I don’t remember—”

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m okay. But I need you to do something for me. I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”

“O-Okay. Okay.” And as he guided her through each inhale and exhale, her mind settled enough to recognize just how ragged his voice was; if the room would hold still for just a moment, she was sure she would see that he looked just as awful. And although it was so, so hard to think, she was fairly certain that it was her fault if he did.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured her. “But the ainok, it, uh, it really did a number on you. You need to sleep.”

“No. No, no, no—I can’t.” The darkness. “I can’t sleep. Please, it—it’s going to find me!”

“What—”

“It can’t find me! It can’t—”

“Okay. Okay, it won’t. I won’t let it.”

“You—you won’t?”

“Never.”

If anything was real, she reflected, it was that single word. She was safe with Anden. Listening to the murmured promises he continued to offer, she let unconsciousness take her.

The following day was a terrible blur. Her whole body felt so heavy that she could barely stand, and she had to be bound firmly to her pillar in the High Chamber to keep upright through the endless daily rituals. Though she knew she couldn’t possibly be moving—she could feel how tightly the cords were biting into her—the entire room often shifted as though she were rocking violently back and forth. Worse were the hideous black shapes that sometimes appeared to loom over her. They weren’t real, she knew they weren’t real, but knowing didn’t stop her heart from pounding so furiously. But just as terrible were the very real worshippers, watching her, always watching her. Over and over, she listened with mounting tension as they recited their prayer, and watched helplessly as they dipped their fingertip into the ceremonial bowl of water and stretched their hand out toward her. And then they would touch her, on her arm, on her forehead, on her throat, and she would try to jerk away from them. But she couldn’t move, they were leering at her and touching her and she couldn’t move, just like she couldn’t move when—

He’s dead, he’s dead, I killed him and he’s dead.

By the time the sun had set at long last, her vision had finally settled into something resembling normal, which was a great relief. It was so much easier this way to figure out what was and wasn’t real. But gods, was she exhausted. Her plans to immediately drop to sleep, though, were interrupted when her new evening guards—not Edric, not Edric, he’s dead—didn’t let her fall to her pallet right away. Instead she was ordered to hold out her hands, and she watched in mute horror as each was encased in a small leather pouch, forcing them into unusable fists. They were buckled tightly around her wrists, the mechanism so frustratingly simple. She could have undone them in mere seconds were they not the very thing that locked her hands away.

Pressing her back to the wall, she slid down until she was sitting, her arms held stiffly out in front of her as she stared, transfixed, at the worn leather.

She really hadn’t imagined it last night. They’d taken her hands away.

They’d taken her hands away because of what she did, she realized. She remembered how it had felt, probing into the folds of skin between her legs, fighting back both her nausea at the unwanted contact and her tears at the thought of dying because she didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t die like that, in the—

“Kiri?”

The water—

“Kiri!”

In the cell across from her, Anden was sitting pressed against the bars, clinging tightly to them as though he needed their support. He was watching her, and it made her feel safe, and it made her feel exposed.

She tucked her not-hands beneath her knees, where he couldn’t see them.

“How—how are you doing?” he asked tentatively.

For a moment she just looked at him, now that she really could. His green eyes were as beautiful as always, but the dark circles underneath were more pronounced than she’d ever seen them. “You look terrible,” she observed. Scanning the rest of him, she asked, “Did they hurt you last night?”

“No. Not, uh, not after the ritual.”

The ritual. Gods, had so much really happened in only one night? “But I—I heard the healer. I heard her after—after everyone else left.”

He shrugged, the movement stiff. “A few cuts got . . . irritated again. That’s all.”

“Anden—”

“I’m fine.”

“Anden, please, I don’t—I don’t remember everything. Can you please just—just tell me what happened?”

“What happened is I almost lost you!” His voice shook with an angry desperation she’d never heard from him. “I sat in here, watching you try to get yourself killed. And I couldn’t—I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

And then that fucking bastard—” Anden slammed a palm against the bars, making her jump. “I couldn’t stop him. And the one thing, the one fucking thing I’ve ever been able to do to keep you safe?” He exhaled a frustrated laugh. “I messed up. I messed up so bad.”

Kiri’s not-hands trembled in their hiding place tucked under her legs. “What do you mean?”

For a long moment, Anden only held her gaze. “You know those stories, the ones my dad used to tell me and my brother when we were little? There’s, uh, there’s one I haven’t told you yet.” With a shuddering sigh, he began the tale.

“Once there was a man who lived by a river. As a child, he loved the river, because the river carried his boat and let him eat of her fish, and for many years he was content with his lot in life. But as he grew into a man, he began to hear in his dreams the call of the sea. Though he would miss the river, he knew the sea loved and understood him in a way the river never would. He would be a riverman no longer, but a seaman.”

That last word rang sharply in Kiri’s ears, and a coldness that she didn’t understand ran through her.

“So one day the riverman took off in his boat, determined to sail down the river until he reached the sea. The river carried him as she always did, until she realized he hadn’t yet lowered his net into her waters.

“She asked him, ‘Why aren’t you fishing today?’

“He said, ‘I no longer wish to be a riverman. I wish to be a seaman, because the sea has called to me.’

“She pleaded with the riverman to stay with her. The riverman said he was sorry to go, and thanked her for always caring for him, but remained steadfast in his mission to reach the sea.

“But the river was cruel and cunning in her jealousy. She agreed to carry him out toward the sea. But when his boat reached the deepest, widest part of the river, she dashed it against one of her jagged rocks. A hole was formed, and the boat began to sink.”

Kiri’s heart was pounding. Why was it pounding?

“The riverman cried out, ‘You said you would carry me out toward the sea.’

“The river replied, “I am carrying you toward the sea. But you will sink before you can reach her.’

“And so the riverman was carried down the river toward the sea, but all the while his boat slowly sank deeper and deeper. When he could hear in the distance the crashing of waves he wept, because he was so near to the sea, but he knew he would never reach her as the river’s waters had risen to his neck. The river urged him to curse the sea with his last breath, because if the sea had never called to him then he would have lived a long life with the river. But the riverman would not curse the sea. With his last breath he spoke only of his love for her.

“Just as the river swallowed him down, a seabird appeared and dove down after him into its depths. She took him gently in her talons, and flew up into the sky with him, until they reached the sea.

“The sea was as overjoyed to be united with him as he with her. And he was a riverman no longer, but a seaman, until the end of his days. When he reached his life’s end, he dove down into the depths of the sea he so loved, and dissolved into seafoam, that they could stay together until the end of time.”

Anden cleared his throat. “I, uh, I doubt anyone in Ilyrna’s heard that story. My dad, he learned it from my mother. She was from Kishra. My dad said this had been her favorite story, because she grew up in a village along a river, and people there used to the say that their village was the same one that the seaman was from.” He swallowed. “The village was named Oshna.”

“Your brother’s note—” Kiri’s voice came wrong, the pitch a bit too high and the words a bit too clipped. “Last winter. He said if they couldn’t come then, they would come later. He mentioned a book called The Seaman of Oshna.”

Slowly, Anden nodded.

“He—he really is coming. He really is planning to save you, to—to save us. The reason he hasn’t come yet is because—”

“Because it won’t be until after we’ve been sacrificed,” Anden finished reluctantly. “I think he’s going to wait until the, uh, the coffin, floats past the south end of the city. No one should be there to see, and then he can get us out. It’s risky, we’ll be—we’ll probably be mostly submerged by the time he gets to us. If it works, I think it’s going to be a real close call. Like the seabird saving the riverman, right when he sinks. But it can work, or he wouldn’t have thought of it. It’s our best shot.”

The idea was utterly terrifying, to have to lay there locked away while the water slowly rose, hoping for a rescue that very well might not come in time.

But it might come. For the first time in months, it seemed possible that rescue might come. She might not have to drown.

She might not have to die at all.

Gods, if she’d succeeded last night, if she’d defiled herself in the eyes of the temple, she’d be dead at that very moment. She’d never have even known that she might have lived.

She hadn’t known that she might live.

“You said—you said you didn’t remember. When you heard what was in that note, the note I dropped last winter, you said you didn’t remember what The Seaman of Oshna might mean. So when—when did you—”

“I always remembered.” Anden dropped his gaze. “I always knew.”

For a long moment, Kiri was silent. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. But only one stood out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—I’m sorry, Kiri, I—”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

He stared at her, stunned. “I’m sorry. I was just—I didn’t want to worry you anymore than you needed to be. I mean, it’s so risky, and I know how hard it would be for you especially, to—to go down in the water like that. You’ve always been so scared—”

Kiri had never felt an anger quite like this, hard and bitterly cold. “You should have told me. I thought—gods, you let me think I’d ruined everything, that we were never going to escape—”

“I told you my brother was still coming!” he protested. “I thought you believed me!”

“After months without seeing them?”

“Kiri—”

“No escape, no message, no glimpse of them at all?”

“Kiri, I’m sorry—”

“I thought we had no chance.” Tears formed and she blinked them away. “I thought we were going to die there, in the—gods, Anden, I can face it, I can, I just couldn’t face knowing,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t face knowing that I would die there! That I really would drown! If I’d known that maybe I wouldn’t die that way, that maybe I wouldn’t drown, then maybe I wouldn’t have—” She breathed in a great shuddering gasp. “Oh, gods, I almost did it. I—I could be dead right now. Why didn’t you tell me? You should have told me!”

Anden’s eyes suddenly flashed with a hot fury. “And you should have told me. You let me think that you believed me!”

“But—”

“That you still believed we were getting out of here! You made plans with me, talked about all of the shit we’re going to do together once this is over! I was going to tell you about Midsummer—I was! I just—I always thought I had more time. I didn’t know there wasn’t any time left until you tried to leave me!”

Kiri recoiled as though she’d been slapped.

She pulled her hand up to wipe away at her tears, but was met with that horrible lump of leather. A hideous, pained shriek ripped itself from her throat because it was all too much. They’d taken her hands, they’d taken her hands because she���d tried so hard to die, and Edric had seen her—he’s dead, he’s dead—he’d seen her trying to die and he’d nearly finished the job. And she could still feel his hands everywhere, and at least dying would finally mean she didn’t have to feel his hands anymore but she didn’t really want to die and, gods, she truly had tried to die. She’d come so close to dying, to leaving Anden behind. And suddenly everything was just too much.

“I’m sorry.” The remorse in his voice tore at her heart. She didn’t know if she deserved it—it was so hard to think. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I didn’t mean—”

“You should have told me,” she repeated, but she didn’t know anymore if she meant it. Her shoulders shook as sobs wracked through her body. “I—I’m sorry, I just—I can’t—”

Everything was too much. And maybe everything was her fault—it was so hard to think.

She’d really tried to die.

The awful darkness that always seemed to find her swelled through her, choking her from within till she could scarcely breathe. She couldn’t ever escape it, she knew, not when it came from inside of her.

Kiri buried her face in her arms and wept.

next

Don't worry, I won't be spamming y'all with a third new chapter a third day in a row lol Though who really knows? I'm so high on motivation right now that I might have that one edited pretty quick too. We're getting close to end of this nightmare of a year I wrote for these two, and as much as I enjoy making them suffer, I'm also very ready to give them a rest--they've certainly earned it!

Thank you all so much for reading!!!

tag list: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @little-peril-stories

@monarchthefirst @emmettland @whumplr-reader

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!

content warning: captivity, religious abuse, restraints, torture, drugging, mentions of attempted sexual assault and attempted suicide

[all-pacas]

@ghost-main interesting to wonder if kutner would continue the cycle of (weird) abuse [as head of diagnostics] like chase presumably does,

OK, I've actually thought about this, and wanted to make it its own post because of potential length: On the one hand, I disagree that Chase would intentionally continue a cycle of abuse with his fellows. On the other, I also think he would have real issues with being a boss and a teacher.

So to start with, Chase actually has a nice advantage coming into Head of Diagnostics: his first two fellows are Adams and Park. They are his friends. They like and respect him, and he likes them; he isn't going to have to struggle to establish himself as the boss or as someone they need to respect. Foreman had this problem whenever he was put in charge of diagnostics — Cameron and Chase had nooo interest in listening to him — but we see Chase mentoring Park, we see him step up in the team a few times. I think the girls would push back against him if he got too bossy or petty (Park would absolutely shut him down if he got mean), but they do respect him and listen to him. And that's kind of huge. Chase has never really been in charge before. He's stepped up plenty of times, but always informally; he really has no experience leading a team. It's gotta be a learning curve, you know? And he gets to hit the ground running because his team already knows him.

Longer term, I don't think he'd really fall into House's style of berating and bullying, mostly because that's House's style. Chase is more passive-aggressive and sarcastic. He's certainly impatient and dismissive, but he doesn't really talk shit unless very provoked. I think he'd be occasionally cranky and frustrated with his fellows, but that leads into his actual weakness as a leader.

Chase solves a lot of cases on his own. You know how he does it, every time? He gets really quiet, he frowns to himself as everyone is talking, and then he announces his solution. In the Pilot, everyone is arguing and he sits out an entire scene thinking about how to prove the patient has worms. In Post Mortem, he locks himself in the basement with a white board thinking. In The C Word, he urges everyone to brainstorm and listens silently, thinking, until he puts it together and goes off to save the day. Chase is not a collaborative thinker. He wants to be left alone to think, he wants others to talk and brainstorm while he listens. On the surface, this is very House-like, but House loves collaboration. He asks questions, he shoots things down and modifies, he's the socratic method guy. And it's easy to forget this, because House never does in on purpose, but House is meant to be teaching the fellows. They're learning from him. House makes it fairly easy to follow his thought process, to see where he's at and what he's thinking. He argues and tells people why they're wrong and offers something new. Chase does not. He withdraws and absorbs and works it out on his own, and I think that would be his biggest challenge as a boss.

I can just picture Chase and Park and Adams trying to work something out, and Chase not giving them anything to work with because he's thinking. They're trying to argue and debate it, and he's just quiet, and so they run into a wall because they're being given nothing, and then Chase gets annoyed because he's not being given anything. He's not really a leader, he's a follower. He's always had someone else running things, driving progress. He's quite good at doing one-on-one mentoring (again, Park and Masters both get this), but teaching? That's different. That's something he has no framework for, and Chase tends to lash out and get bitchy when he's frustrated. I don't think he'd be a bad boss, but I think for a while, he very much has the potential to be a bad teacher.

[thehandwixard]

well. kingdom hearts finished. been thinking about riku so much its making me sick

so, ill probably be going back and talking about my like plot thoughts that i skipped over etc etc etc i know yall have barely heard my thoughts about the worlds and stuff and plot developments as they go, and part of that has just been... i've been so caught up in it. its gripping, it kind of took up my brain to the point where i hardly even wanted to stop playing or stop looking at it to gather my thoughts in this specific way, lord knows i was chatting my bestie's ear off.

what ill say about kh mechanically and gameplay-feel is that it is a game deeply from 2002. it is an action game that should not have been a platformer, but it was. i think the struggles with the camera, and the clunkiness of the lock-on system, and the learning curve to anything more complicated than mashing, is all worth it. the gameplay feel is really just.. clean-feeling, in battle. its got a good sense of what makes a decent boss fight, and this shows extremely in the multiple-part penultimate boss fight.

the pacing throughout the game is actually quite tight as well, at least if the worlds are taken in the intended order. its just like. i think whats getting me here is i really don't want to say too much. kh1 thrives on the journey it takes you on, and it really is captivating if you let it.

grinding isnt even really a boring experience, final mix added special heartless with minigames you can do to earn items, so theres always like. a little extra thing to do if you're not ready to move forwards.

im just always... as a person, i am always deeply charmed by games like this, and i want to give them as much room for error as possible. theres so much heart and love in this game even through the clunkiness, and you see it in the worlds, and the voice actors, and the undercurrent of... something, in the game. its really a game that only could have been made at this time, in this era.

and love not just in the disney worlds, but particularly in the unique worlds. the portrayal of them, the comittment to the beauty of this world. the uncertainty of it.

it leaves a lot to the player to experience the adventure. i think thats lovely.

ok big spoilery thing RIGHT NOW because i am obsessed with it and no one ever talks about it even though its the best part of kh1 that doesnt havr to do with any of that mushy stuff

!!!!FINAL BOSS SPOILER IMAGES!!!!!!!

THE FINAL BOSS IS A FUCKING BOAT. ITS A BOAT AND NO ONE TALKS ABOUT IT. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? THIS OWNS

[brittlebutch]

bill and ted and their efforts in education is something thats So Important to me - they really do want to learn and find new things soo interesting, its just that traditional teaching methods fail them. even stuff they love (music) took them so long to learn !!!! which is something i feel like ppl miss a lot. choosing to learn smthn that is difficult and has a steep learning curve is actually So Hard and frustrating and bill and ted actually put in so much effort to learn!! and ofc it works out (they win battle of the bands, become famous, save the world etc) but i feel like they wouldve worked at it even if they never met rufus and all that bc they approach life with such genuine earnestness. which is a trait i admire so much and they make me so happy :)

yes dude you absolutely hit the nail on the head!!! i love love love that Bill and Ted don't make it through any of the movies thanks to any kind of special skill or innate talent, they manage to make it through just because they're so affable and enthusiastic that people around them (even some who would have reason to actually dislike them) just can't seem to help but be taken with them and decide to help them out - no perpetuating the myth of independence anywhere!!

and you're so right about the time travel probably not being strictly Necessary in their development like, their audition at the beginning of Bogus Journey isn't very good but it's still technically way more musical than their garage jam sessions were in Excellent Adventure! (You could argue that's just the Princesses carrying the sound, which is probably true to an extent, BUT I don't think that's it entirely bc there's not any discordant distortion-noise like there was in EA and parts of the melody do seem to cut out when Bill and Ted pause playing to speak) So they were learning and improving between movies, it's just that they're naturally kind of slow at it AND they've also probably not been able to focus on learning all that well bc they're working full time and struggling financially - once they take like a year and a half outside of time to practice nothing but guitar they're able to show off some serious musical acumen, and THEN i love how Face the Music shows how even though they've both gotten pretty Technically skilled at a huge variety of instruments, they're still 'bad at it' bc they struggle to write music that other people enjoy/understand and they still aren't overly bothered by that at all!

Also love that the same applies to Billie and Thea - they seem to have a much easier time of things than their dads do wrt learning/innate skills BUT they're still 24 and haven't moved out or gone to college or gotten jobs or anything and no one (other than Chief Logan ofc) puts them down or admonishes them for this! They're both loved and supported wholeheartedly by their parents (who OFC understand it all completely) and they make it through the movie the same exact way Bill and Ted did! Even though Billie and Thea do rely on a more-than-solid grasp of musical history to navigate the circuits of time, their ability to sway the historical figures to their cause largely thanks to their enthusiasm for the topic and general affability and i love how that's always upheld by the movies as a Valued Trait i love it SO much