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kafkasmeow · 8 months ago

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1 ꗃ A FAMILIAR TUNE

imagine! 7.2k words worth of slow-burn ─ dan heng x reader ─ second pov fem! reader ─ angst and fluff ─ father! jing yuan (strictly platonic) ─ i treated the reader more as an oc, i do apologise for that.

summery ─ leaving home was one of the hardest choices you’ve ever had to make, yet how could you stay when the life you lived could only ever bring you sadness and superficiality?

aka dan heng x reader with mommy and daddy issues

disclaimer ─ this story may hold sensitive subjects such as mentioned death, neglect and the baggage that comes with it, mental illness, violence, harassment and talks of infertility. it has a very long introduction (my bad lol), a rather steamy end and takes inspiration from the original story line so be careful of spoilers and it was inspired by head-canons written here by @lyomeii , please go show some love. remember that this is a work of fiction and any names and characters written are my imagination alone. enjoy <3

taglist ─ @can-i-go-to-sleep-please ─ @can-i-stay-awake

There was a time when things felt easier, when the sun seemed to shine brighter despite the overwhelming shadow that was always cast on your family. You used to love the deep smell of green tea that enveloped the parlour each time the two of you took residence in it, and the wind that would swirl it around the whole of the office all while you laughed without a single care at the way it tugged your translucent shawl and hair.

Jing Yuan adored that sound more than anything, it filled his heart with the warmest of contents yet the cruelest of longings. He would sip quietly on the tea you’d brewed for him and pretend to enjoy the frivolous moment with his eyes closed, but you both knew that when you looked away, another story would be told completely.

Perhaps in reality, the sun never shined brighter than it seemed to and it was never easier to stomach. You were just too naive, too young to notice the thin cords bringing you and your father closer, and too ignorant to see the way they were slowly beginning to rip under the pressure.

To the public eye, your father loved you more than anything in the world, that was no news to anyone atop the Xianzhou Luofu. You’ve always worn the most expensive silks to have ever been created, with the richest of accessories and jewels. Whenever a new Hanfu dress would reach your hands, he would parade you on the busiest streets himself, making sure everyone and their mothers would talk about it by noon the next day.

He made sure you always had the most able and knowledgeable professors at your call, and if you ever needed anything, all you’d have to do is ask to whomever was closest to you at the very moment, and it would be fulfilled within seconds. Sometimes you didn’t know if the servants did it out of admiration for your father or obligation.

Jing Yuan made sure you never needed or wanted for more. Materially, that is.

And things were bound to change as you grew, especially as he cruelly presented you to the scrutiny of high society.

You quickly grew to understand that it was his way of apologising, like a crow that would chip away at your skin then bring you trinkets of appreciation. When you sat and listened to some woman criticise that your dress was too frivolous for the event, too out of fashion for society and that none of your jewels matched, he did not do much but smile and pat your shoulder.

“Little [Y/n] will learn from your kind advice.” He assured her, but you barely held in a snort of frustration. When the other women joined in, when they begun pulling at your hair to adjust it, when they hit your hands with their fans as you purred tea for not angling your elbows right, when they shamed you as the hall hollered with laughter, he watched and smiled, so you took a deep breath and smiled back to everyone around you too.

Later that very evening he found you with tears running on your cheeks, a box of red and gold velvet in his hands. Your father did not speak, nor did he show much emotion on his face and it angered you. You wished to yell, to protest for the fact that he had not jumped to your defence, but as you opened the box, all protests died on your lips and the tears stilled, hands shaking at the most beautiful jade hair pin you’ve ever seen.

But his gifts stopped making up for his emotional absence around the third time it happened.

And you knew they all watched you like a hawk. Every move you’d make before the higher ups would be analysed on a scale of “good enough” or “weak” by none other than your father’s so called friends, while every single gesture before the public was like pulling needles off your skin. Yesterday you wore your Hanfu scandalously low on your cleavage, today you didn’t say thank you when the guard accompanying you opened up your parasol, tomorrow you won’t hold your tea cup quite right and so on.

Usually it was easy to ignore.

But that was before the daughters of the noblest of houses would begin to alienate you for shallow reasons, and before the sons of each commissioner would size you up as nothing but easy stock to win over, an easy marriage in the pocket, or so they thought.

It was easy for them to have the audacity to criticise you to your face or try to win you over, after all, you were nothing but a spoiled brat who’s never heard no for as long as she’s lived. Surely, you’ve never faced a single hardship, so the public felt righteous enough to scold you into it while for those within you were noting but a charity case.

So you tried to learn all you could, so you’d never feel as less in front of others ever again. Since the very evening of your debut, you insisted on having a book under your arm, a needle in your hand, a sword at your hip, or a qin in your lap while tea cups simmered on a table. It felt easier to overlook the loneliness when you did. You found that after a certain age, it felt comforting even to worry about making it in time to granny Hua’s qin lessons while leaving the swordplay hall behind, rather than sit pretty in a room and wait all day for your father to finish his duties as a general. There was no more room at social events for rude interventions, and no more room in your mid for uncomfortable questions to ask while doing so, really.

But you couldn’t avoid them for an eternity, that was for sure. And neither could Jing Yuan, for even in tranquil moments when peace had the taste of green tea and the smell of fresh air after rain, your twinkling eyes were still a carbon copy of how hers were.

In the better of these days, your father would pretend to laugh at a joke you made, while you pretended to be satisfied with his reaction. You’d move a piece on the xiangqi board with elegant hands and chatted about the latest passage you read in a philosophy book, and he hummed in agreement while placing his own piece down. A cleverly crafted strategy to his own defeat, one that you felt content with following despite the fragile shame that came with it.

It was a play you both excelled at most, after all.

At the worst of it all, you can’t understand his harsh voice as he yells “That is enough, [Y/n]!” while slamming his tea cup on the table. The whole room would shake at his warning, but your hunger for answers was much stronger than any fear, so you really can’t understand his fury when you yell back “Father! It is not!” He look at you with sorrow in his heart and his eyes were twisted by a pain you’d never understand, as he could only see her in you.

“I will not have this conversation with you!” He’d warn again, but you took it as an invitation to push even further. “I don’t know the first thing about my mother, Jing Yuan! Her name? Never heard of it. Her face? Never seen it. Do you not think it is cruel, father?” Hot tears streamed on your perfect porcelain cheeks, smearing the red eyeliner you had painted on. “No one ever speaks about her to me, everyone refuses to. But they all look at me like I’m some kind of…” Your voice trailed off with hard puffs and sobs. “Like I’m some kind of…”

His own chest puffed and the sight of you felt like a stab to his heart. You couldn’t get your words out, you didn’t need to really. People constantly looked at you in one of two ways, no matter how perfectly you’ve learned to craft your smiles, or how good your tea brewing had became, you were either a charity case they’d pity, or a spoiled brat that knew none of what the real world would offer.

But despite all of his anger, he was still your father, and as much as he loved to punish himself trough you, he still held back the need of snapping the heads off all of their shoulders. He would reach for the back of your neck with his hand, bringing you into his chest in a half hug. “You are enough. Never forget that.” He’d kiss the crown of your head and inhale the floral smell of your hair. It grounded him, even as you screamed into his chest and pushed him away, his grip stayed firm until you’d shed your last tear and you cried your last sob.

Because despite of how much you hated to admit it, you were living and breathing for his approval, which you seemed to never ever gain.

Unbeknownst to you, everything about you was just like her. Your face, your hair, even the way you wore your Hanfu a little out of place with the shawl falling all over the floor when you walked, or your mannerism as you spoke with a tiny accent on your tongue, it was all her and nothing of his except the mole under your left eye. You’ve never met her, he tried to reason. You’ve never seen her or heard of her deeds. Your mother has been an enigma to you ever since you could remember things, and yet the world punished him with her perfect copy in you when he tried to push her memory away the most.

It felt bittersweet. To the outside eye, general Jing Yuan adored his daughter more than anything else in the world. But underneath the jewellery, there were unaddressed feelings, each pearl you wore for people on the Central Starskiff Heaven to see was a tear unshed, each new dress was a silent apology they’d never hear, each loving promenade you’d have with your father was there to hide for the public a question you asked when the cord was too tensed. One of these days it would snap in half, you were sure of it.

So who could blame you when it all overflowed? When you could no longer smile in the face of those who envied you and when your father’s emotional absence felt like a hallow painting of what should have really been? When the dresses and the jewels weren’t smothering the pain any longer?

You felt it daily, building up, pressing down, tugging at your smiles until they became frowns and empty stares, and your ever growing depression was evident for anyone that roamed the gardens outside your window at night, as your qin carried into the world the saddest tune your heart feared to voice. And this time, not even a Hanfu made out of golden thread would ease your pain.

“So, say you, general,”

Your father hummed back to the woman before him as he placed his piece down on the board. Another noble nodded in agreement with his choice behind him. You saw them all from where you were sitting, fingers strumming the qin in a delicate tune for the whole room to enjoy, while gin purred from flasks and laughter echoed somewhere in the back. It wasn’t like you to agree partaking in parties like these, but how could you turn Jing Yuan down when he asked you to serenade him at the event?

“I would say you’d want to keep your daughter closest to you, am I not right?” The wicked tone in the noble’s voice made you shiver underneath the silver shawl that draped off your shoulders. “Quite so I fear, why is that?”

“Well, I hoped to reach you when I first heard the news, but I was quite busy, yous see?” The woman, an esteemed elder of the Artisanship Commission, hid her face behind what was possibly the most obnoxious fan you’ve ever seen, and your fingers became stiff on the metal strings of your trusted instrument. “Pardon me?” The general stilled his movements on the xiangqi pieces while the chattering went quiet. Nothing but your trembling notes filled the air.

“You know, I wished to give you my deepest condolences the moment I heard. For your daughter’s… unfortunate situation, that is.” Confused, Jing Yuan tilts his head to where you stood, only to be met with the same questions on your face that you desperately tried to drown as you played your melody. He chuckled awkwardly, then, and returned his attention on the game. “I fear I don’t know what you’re going on about, ma’am.”

“Ah… You know, the fact that your daughter is unable to bear children has quite saddened us all. I was looking forward to sending my son as a potential suitor!”

If eyes could kill, you would be sure that the place where the woman stood would have become scorched dust. An involuntary scoff left your lips loud enough to draw attention, but you pretended to be engrossed with tuning your qin before beginning to play another piece for the hall.

“And where have you heard such news, I wonder?” But she held no fear in her eyes.

“Well, for one, everyone in high society talks about it! You see, your daughter is already past the age of accepting suitors yet has never even been seen with a man, so people assume. That being said I personally was told so by a doctor that works under you, your grace.”

‘Lies’, you told yourself, but it was not enough to cool the blush you had on your cheeks from embarrassment, no matter how much you have been shamed by the public eye, nothing could compare to this very moment now.

“Is that so,” Your father trailed off, then placed his piece on the xiangqi board. “Well, from what I know, your son is welcome to send in his suitor application, for my daughter is more than healthy and cared for. In fact, now that I think about it,” But you didn’t wish to hear any more.

With a sudden move, you jumped from your seat to your feet and rushed to gather the qin underneath its silk cloth. The commotion drew attention to you, and so murmurs begun filling your ears which only fed your ever growing shame. “Please excuse me.” You voiced as you bowed deeply to the room of lords and nobles, then picked up your instrument and hurried to the exit with a strained “Please enjoy the rest of your evening.”

And you hoped that would be the last you’ve heard of it all, but as fate wanted it, that was far from how things would play.

“Father! This is ridiculous!” You protested. For all reason and purposes, it really was.

Not even a full day after what happened, he invited you to serve tea with him in the parlour. You found it odd, as he never requested your presence on Tuesday afternoons, but did not complain as you stepped into the room with haste.

He took his time finding the courage to face you, and when he understood he would not be able to deliver the news to you with a straight face, he pushed a stack of paper to you without even meeting your eyes. There, in red ink, was your fate sealed by a simple signature. An agreement that had been made without your knowledge or permission, and a wound that would become the reason for the demise of cord that held your family together.

Marriage certificate.

No one knows what was truly discussed that night in the evening, but what was known was that you’ve fled with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. And for better or for worse, that would become the last time anyone on the Xianzhou Luofu had seen you under the identity of the general’s daughter, for you found no more room in your heart for the pain that followed with it.

“You know, when you put it like that, I do think that green works best with coral!” March eagerly nodded her head, while Dan Heng took his time analysing Himeko’s theory. You and welt only listened to the conversation with one ear, while the other was being filled with questions over questions from Stelle.

“I don’t believe that’s a wise move.” You chirped as Welt placed the piece down, and you followed with a quick movement that gained you his general. He groaned and pushed his glasses up away while massaging the bridge of his nose. Stelle wowed and wood at your victory, and March leaned from her seat across the express’ parlour with a “really?” look in her eyes.

“You lost again, M. Yang?”

“I swear I’m good at this game.” And you chuckled while placing the pieces back into their pouch. “Used is a keyword.” March continued to tease while everyone watched your movements, which, weirdly, felt more calming than before your time on the express. In truth, it was because they never snickered underneath their palms and never cherry picked your posture until you’d get it wrong.

That being said, you could only care for one person’s eyes alone, and his stare felt like electricity on the back of your neck.

“How did you learn to play like this, anyways? You’re like a mad genius at these.” Stelle intervened, and you couldn’t help but shiver as your father’s knowing eyes came into your mind. “Ah…” was all that escaped your lips, before you cured your pained expression in a calm and lovely smile. “My father taught me how to play. He always made it so I would win, though. Therefore, for the longest time I believed I was quite bad at it too.”

Your voice felt like crystal in the quiet room, so quiet and soft to the ear that it was more akin to a melody than a spoken sentence. You never truly talked about your home, never about your family of your past, which is exactly why your friends turned to you with a cocktail of shocked expressions. Despite how polite and proper you always were, whenever someone asked about it, you would have the coldest glare thrown their way, sure, involuntarily, but scary nonetheless, and with time the crew learned to not ask about a past you so much wished to hide.

Despite that, they never judged you for any of it, not even when your friendship has been tried over and over by your cold heart. You were never outright rude per se, but distant hit the nail in the head best. When Himeko would extend an invitation to a “coffee party” for the crew as an example, you refused with a polite smile that felt ripped out of etiquette teaching picture books, saying you prefer tea instead.

She feared you’d be left out, you feared being the centre of attention.

“I believe I’ll head in for the day.” You spoke after finishing to arrange the xiangqi pieces on the board. March left out an “Oh…” and you could hear the sad face in her voice. Amongst the others, she was the saddest when you chose to sit the Xianzhou Luofu out, as ever since your addition to the crew, you never turned down an adventure. You explained that your bones hurt from the cold of Jarilo-VI and that you needed a rest, and with Stelle at their side, you were sure they would have no problems getting trough this one trail-blazing adventure. Sure, it was a bit of a shock for Himeko and Welt, but to March? It was a tragedy. Her new bestie leaving her behind? She swore the world would end.

“Please, have a safe journey and a swift return.”

You nodded your head their way before picking up the xiangqi game and reaching for the door. Your fingers grazed the digital pad just in time to hear Dan Heng’s voice behind you. “I will do the same, didn’t quite finish storing the data bank after Jarilo-VI.”

And so you ended up side by side, walking trough the corridors of the Express. However, as you stepped past his make-shift room, you found his steps synced with yours still and, confused, you turned to face him and painted one of your signature smiles. Fake but pretty all the same.

“Can I help you, Dan Heng?”

It was exactly that cold yet perfect, more-like-a-painting-than-an-actual-human attitude that made Dan Heng distrust you from the moment you stepped on the Express. You left everything to speculation in a way in which even your clothes were a mass of black and colourless, without any culture behind or any story at all to tell. Always in a bland attire with no accessories at all. March made fun of you for being so tasteless, but he saw past the appearance. He saw past the way you acted and into the way you wilded your swords like cranes flying in the wind, the way you prepared and steeped tea, and the way you handled xiangqi and go pieces like a native only could.

He peered into your eyes in a way that made you unravel before him without a single word, and he knew it was to hide a side of you that you’ve hidden deeply to the rest. But not quite to him.

And while he was trying to get over a sense of danger in you, fed by your secrecy, you found peace in his presence. Unbeknownst to him, he was the one thing that reminded you of home and the good in it despite it all. If your memories were filled with torment and loneliness, he was the smell of freshly baked red bean sticky rice cakes in the market, or the sound of wind chimes in the summer rain. He was all of the little things you wanted to push away but found comfort in, and you didn’t know if you loved it or hated him for it.

“Yes, actually.” He nodded. “I find I can’t sleep as of late and I wanted to try one of your calming brews.” You frowned at his words but gave in without asking much, which he greatly appreciated. “Very well, please join me for some tea tonight, then.” And silence settled between you two as you lead him to your cabin with unease rolling off your shoulders.

Your room was much like your clothes. Simple and colourless besides the coffer next to your bed, which was unmistakably made with the mastery of a Xianzhou artisanship. But if he noticed it, he didn’t speak on it at all, nor about the low table in the middle of the room that was in the same style, or… well really about anything. You appreciated that most. Even when you settled on the table a traditional set of cups, a clear tea spreading the most enchanting and calming aroma from them, he did not speak a single word.

As he drank, his eyes rested on your covered qin that sat atop your bed, and he did not need to speak for you to understand his intentions. You sat down quietly on the covers, revealing the simple instrument like a truth you’d usually hide from. And he couldn’t help but watch you with sadness in his heart as you tuned the strings with shaky hands ‘till crystal clear notes echoed trough the room.

You took a heavy inhale and looked upon the dark ebony wood as if greeting an old friend before propping it on your lap, but couldn’t handle to meet Dan Heng’s eyes. At least not when he stared at you as if he knew every single secret you feared to tell.

As you raised your hands in the air, getting ready to pull at the string, his own palm engulfed your exposed skin in an unspoken plea, and you couldn’t help but give into his warmth. He pulled gently until your face was buried into his shoulder and his other arm was in your hair, and you didn’t even notice it when silent tears begun to stain the fabric of his coat. He didn’t protest nor ever addressed it, and you preferred the feeling of his body against yours to the coldness of his eyes on a normal day.

As such, you spent the evening together afterwords. Him silently sipping on the calming tea as the sorrowful yet comforting sound of the qin filled your bedroom, until there were no more tears to shed and the pot on the table had gone cold.

No one wanted to admit it, but it had to be said. Something changed between you and Dan Heng from then on and the first one to notice it was none other than March.

They were getting ready to leave the express when she stated it for the whole crew to hear.

“Is it me or are the two of you like, in love or something now?” She arched one of her eyebrows while her lips rested in a scowl. Now, don’t get her wrong she was more than happy for you two if it was the case, but what she could not stand for was the two of you ditching the adventure to enjoy a date over tea and qin music again.

“March, what kind of nonsense are you onto again?” You huffed with cherry red ears, while Dan Heng choked on the water he was previously drinking. All she could do was wave her hand while saying “yeah yeah,” over and over with a bored face before they set out on their way, but not before Welt pinned the two of you down with a knowing look.

The express stilled with their absence, reinforced by Pom-Pom who claimed to have some cleaning to do somewhere in the Express and Himeko who had some paperwork to finish. The parlour felt almost empty, despite Dan Heng’s presence right next to you. He still held his fist over his mouth as if preparing to cough, cheeks dusted pink and eyes on the starry sky before you, but he didn’t say a word about what happened. And something in you told you to follow his lead.

You ate quietly at the sticky rice cake you tried your hand baking, and although the taste was very different from what you remembered, it was still as good as ever. With a tissue all crumpled up in your hand, you resulted to watching the sky along side your new friend, eyeing the stars one by one as they passed by. Yet you found your eyes sliding lower and lower from the window to the man before you, who you found already watching you with wide eyes. As if caught in headlights, he stammered out an incoherent string of words but did not move his gaze, not even as his body leaned to yours until his hand grazed your chin.

You shuddered at his icy touch, but did not dare to move, not even as his fingertips reached for your lips. He gently wiped your lips then brought his thumb to his own mouth, licking off the excess red bean cream from the cake, and you were absolutely sure your face would explode from how hot it get in that very moment. “You had a bit,” He started, but his mouth closed shut when he noticed the dazed stare in your eyes. “Oh aeons, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” His voice shook and his own ears turned scarlet red, only now realising what he has done. You shook your head, head turning so you could focus on the floor as if the tiles below your feet were now the best sight you have ever seen. “Ah, not at all! I was just surprised, ‘tis all.” Your sweaty palm gripped the tissue tighter. “Would you like some?” And Dan Heng looked at the half eaten cake you extended to him with an expression you’ve ever seen him give March or Stelle. He stared at the cake in his hands with a wholehearted fondness. “Yeah.” Was all he could manage to whisper back.

And somewhere in the back, you swore you heard Himeko giggle to herself.

The same evening, you would hear three soft knocks on your door in the dead of night. There, in the hallway, with a sweat filled forehead and uneasy complexion, stood Dan Heng, and you would be a fool not to extend a hand to him when he begged for help with his tired eyes.

“Quit hiding!” The criminal’s voice rang trough your head like a broken mantra. “Your true form… reveal it!” Dan Heng did his best to dodge the maniac attacks, all while you and Yanqing stood in an awkward stalemate in the middle of the platform.

Your blade screeched against Yanqing’s, but it was like fighting fire with fire, simply useless. No matter how lowkey you’ve been upon reaching the Xianzhou, he needed one singular look to know exactly who you were, even underneath the mask that covered the lower half of your face.

“You, little..” You trailed off with effort. Despite his usual sense of justice, that you’ve always commanded, his attacks felt awfully biased as he strikes your blade repeatedly with his icy ones. His technique felt as familiar as home did, her teaching seeping in his bones trough and trough, but so did your father’s into yours, which you’ve had much more time to perfect than the little lapdog did.

“Move, you idiot!” And with one harsh push of your blade, the young boy was off his feet, giving you enough time to reach Blade before he could get any damage done on Dan Heng. You yelled with each strike you struggled to par, until his crazy red eyes widened in glee and his sword flew from his hands and right by your chin. The sound of your friend’s cry in agony and the blade tearing trough skin and bone made you pause, and horror struck you as you refused to turn around and to even acknowledge what had happened. “You!” Was all you could let out, sword still pointed straight to Blade’s neck.

“I have news for you.” He laughed, and you took a step back. You would lie if you said your insides didn’t churn with fear, even as he was left completely disarmed before you.

“Behind you… Is none other,” The sound of water engulfed your ears as your head snapped back. “Than the traitor of the Xianzhou. A criminal, forever banished!” Your eyes widened as the barrier around Dan Heng rippled, leaving a water-made dragon to escape with rage all over its face. It roared and turned in the air, coiling until it fell right back to where it came from, and when light and wind filled the platform, you couldn’t help but shield your form with your arms.

“The High Elder of the Vidyadhara… Imbibitor Lunae.”

The hold on your sword weakened. You shuddered as the man you grew so attached to revealed himself before you in a form you’ve recognised from your father’s tales. Long silky hair and cold green eyes, horns and tail and lotus flowers and everything that made the Vidyadhara so revered. You could hardly believe your eyes. With a weak step forward, you pulled at the mask to reveal your strained expression, sword falling to your side numbly.

“You really believed that the Stellaron Hunters were the only ones to infiltrate the Xianzhou?”

Cold air begun pulling at your hair, and you shook off your stupor when Yanqing begun summoning his ice swords. Your body acted before your mind did at the new threat and your sword was back up within seconds, posture ready for a clash.

“A wanted criminal, a banished person and a deserter. In this case, I will bring all three of you to justice!”

The fight ended before it could even begin properly. Yanqing was strong, but Jingliu’s teaching could only get him so far against the three of you. Blade begun striking without mercy, taunting you and Dan Heng for holding back. “What’s wrong, your grace? Scared to harm the boy?” The criminal laughed as you sent only one out of the spirit swords you summoned towards Yanqing. Flashes of electricity begun shining trough your hair with anger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do more. Not even when Dan Heng delivered the final strike with a silent apology.

Yanqing’s knees begun to buckle just as Kafka yelled “All of you, listen to me - stop!”

You couldn’t help but stumble back, swords falling out of existence as Dan Heng’s feet stepped back on the floor and Blade’s weapon vanished before your eyes. “Well, Bladie? Are you satisfied?” She mused and he only hummed in response.

“…What did you do?” Dan Heng called after a moment of silence. “Just clearing the stage for the grand entrance. Can’t have the four of you misbehaving in front of the Luofu’s hotshot general.” Your shoulders stiffened as a familiar laughter filled the platform. All heads turned towards the sight, yet you stayed rooted on your feet, back turned and head shaking in denial. “No, not like this.” You whispered.

“Jing Yuan,” Blade huffed. “General!” Yanqing followed.

The man stared at the sighed before him with a knowing smile just as you got the courage to turn and face him. If he felt anything upon the sight of you, he did not show it. “Many years have passed since the three of you have departed the Xianzhou, and yet the circumstances of your return appear to be equally unhappy. If you still thought of me as a friend,” His eyes went straight to yours, unspoken words weighting you down as you found it harder and harder to breathe. ‘As family’ was what he wished to say, yet he held back. “You should’ve forewarned me.”

“My task is complete.” Was all the blade said. “Mhm. That it is.” Your father laughed in return. “Thank you for assisting the Xianzhou in this small matter. Take this person away, I will pretend I didn’t see anything this time.” He stated harshly despite Yanqing’s protest. Jing Yuan then stared at Dan Heng as the two Stellaron Hunters made their way to the boat at the edge of the platform. “It has been a long time, old friend.” But your friend answered harshly. “I’m not him.”

“Mh. I’m sorry. You cannot leave yet, however. Your astral express friends are still waiting for you in Scalegorge Waterscape. Shall we go and see them together? And you…” The moment you have been trying to prepare yourself for most had arrived, and your father’s smile died on his lips as his eyes analysed your face.

“I missed you terribly, my sweet flower.” Dan Heng stiffened next to you, but his hand fingertips grazed yours in protectiveness, to which you could only respond by accepting his palm into yours. The familiar nickname brought tears into your eyes, and despite the coldness of his face, your father’s voice felt like a familiar little tune you new by heart. Like a warm hug when you needed it most. How you wished you could’ve just forgotten it all and jumped into his chest, just like how you did when you were nothing but a sprout on two legs.

“That being said, we will continue this conversation later. I’m afraid your friends might be in trouble, you see.”

You didn’t know how time had passed so fast, more like a blur than anything, truthfully. Your eyes were opened wide on the platform between the Xianzhou and Scalegorge Waterscape, blade in hand and senses aware as you parred each of the attacks your way. Then you blinked, and when you reopened them, a familiar sight greeted you.

Three cups of steaming green tea on a low rise table, a board of xiangqi and pieces of go scattered all over the table. A sacred silence engulfed the room, besides the occasional sound of the chess pieces falling into place, and none of you could bring yourselves to shatter it just yet.

Dan Heng watched you play with patience while occasionally bringing the cup to his lips, now back into the form you grew so familiar with. You hated to admit it, but his presence comforted you. It gave you the strength to hold yourself together in a situation in which you would have certainly shattered if alone, and your father’s keen eye did not glass over that fact.

You sighed peacefully when your chariot was finally occupied in the middle of the palace, on your father’s side, in a perfect centroid checkmate. The man before you leaned back and sighed, a puzzled expression on his face. “You just had to go and get better than me at this game, did you not?” But you didn’t answer. You still didn’t know what to say, really. Were you feeling guilty for deserting your spot as a cloud knight? For leaving your father behind? Or for bailing on your responsibilities as his daughter? Well, no not quite, so apologising for it felt…strained and forced. But one thing felt real as your eyes met his and Dan Heng’s hand reached for yours across the table. You missed him terribly just as much.

“Every single day that passes shapes you more and more like her.” He added. “I wish you could’ve been by my side for them all.”

“Jing Yuan…” You whispered back, but he didn’t let you finish. “If your mother was here with us today, I assure you, my sweet flower, that things would have been so different.” For a moment, you could hear nothing but your heart beating against your chest.

“You are just like her. And I truly mean it. Your face, your personality, darn it all even the way you speak. And, as your father, I wish I could’ve offered you a better life.”

“You did all you could.” Funny how even now, you were the one to reach with a warm heart, how you were the one to comfort and forgive, even when his heart couldn’t yield.

“Not quite. I was foolish and believed that a firm hand would prepare you for the cruelty of the world. I failed to see, no. I failed to change when I saw that it was harming you more than anything.” You let out a sigh you’ve held in for a very long time and closed your eyes, a last attempt at holding in the tears you wished so disparately to shed.

“I love you, father. Nothing will ever change that. However,” Despite how your hand shook in Dan Heng’s, your voice stood firm, and as you opened your eyes, both men shivered at their determination. “An apology, no matter how needed, will never make up for what has been. If this is your way of asking me to stay, I fear I’ve made my choice.”

But his ever knowing smile was back on his lips, and his laughter caught you off guard. Your fingers tightened on Dan Heng’s fingertips, who had stayed quiet as you and your father voiced what both of you ever feared to before.

“You see, that was not my intention. That being said, if you ever did wish to return, there will always be room for you into my arms, my darling flower.” And you only nodded back, lips slightly parted in surprise.

“We should head out.” Dan Heng whispered to you after the tea had been finished and the conversation ended. He tapped the skin of your palm with gentle fingers, a quiet way of asking for your attention. His eyes were stricken with tiredness, and you doubted that yours were any better, excusing the puffiness brought by your tears.

“Ah yes, I forgot!” The general mused. “There is no need to return to that hotel for the night. I asked for your room to be prepared, for you and your lover here. So you could rest comfortably before leaving.” The moment could be best described by a broken record being pulled abruptly from its recorder and screeching in your head. You eyed Dan Heng who refused to meet your gaze and who’s ears became scarlet red once more. “Father!” You protested. “He- He’s not-”

“Save it, [Y/n]. At least invite me if you do ever get married.”

“Dad!” Shame engulfed you as you pushed Dan Heng out of the room all while the sound of Jing Yuan’s laughter taunted you from behind the doors of the seat of Devine Foresight. You couldn’t help but whisper muffled apologies into your hand that tried to shield your burning face from anyone that would watch, which in truth was as effective as searching for a needle in a haystack.

What you didn’t expect was for Dan Heng’s hand to find yours and move it away, revealing cherry red cheeks that matched his own. He cleared his voice before leaning in just enough for his breath to fan over your ear as your back met the closed doors behind you. “I would not mind if I was.” He whispered before his velvet soft lips rested against the exposed skin of the back of your palm. You were sure your knees would’ve given in if it wasn’t for his arm that hooked around your waist, bringing you so close to him you shuddered.

“I really would not mind it.”

Later that evening, as his teeth grazed your exposed skin before kissing it with sweet words of praise, as your hands intertwined and your bodies became one under the silk sheets of your bed, you could tell that your heart began singing a familiar tune. With each kiss from Dan Heng’s, a new feeling invaded your senses. You were home. Here with him, in this very moment. You were home in his arms.

And you wouldn’t changed it for anything else.

Yes, not even as March yells “I fucking knew it!” the next morning, for the whole of Xianzhou Luofu to hear, upon seeing your neck caked in love marks you had no means of hiding and your hand held tightly by Dan Heng, who only smiled back to everyone as you buried your face into his chest with shame.

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yamujiburo · 1 year ago

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Some of this might sound intentionally hostile in text and I apologize.

I'm saying this as an abuse survivor mind you - don't throw "abusive ships" under the bus so easily - at least, so long as they're not actually glamorizing the abuse. I lived that irl and I personally find someone overcoming it, slowly having enough of that bullshit and getting out over time, and the other person having to wipe their own butt for once after they've made the damn mess, very refreshing. Maybe that's not a ship in the traditional sense. It's no happily ever after bc it shouldn't be, but I find stories like mine shyed away from so often because even the portrayal gets considered a "canon ship". ... that's just how media works now, I guess? I very rarely See a fictional relationship not called a ship in literally any context now so that's the definition I'm running on.

I wish more people were willing to portray the hardships of finding acceptance outside of "whoever you can find will accept you" very much, and finding the better things after. I wish people weren't terrified out of portrayimg situations like mine.

Jessie.. is not a good person in canon. You expect me to believe she moved into to hanamusa seamlessly, without falling on her ass? I never see you talk about Jessie's abusive tendencies in canon. You never talk about the inherent meanness she needed to get over to get there. She's quite aml lot like my ex in canon, actually.

What do you mean you're going to just remove from the character that she is abusive to those around her. Jessie hits people. She takes her own junk out on others all the time. Do you even like the character then, are you actually invested in her growing, or are you just making an OC at this point?

Idk. Do you, boo. But you are posting about a character who, whether you like it or not, is canonically abusive. I just don't buy that dating Ash's mom alone fixed her. That isn't... How that works. It would be excellent if it did. Part of my love of hanamusa is that it signals Jessie's change - but she could have changed for anyone before now.

What makes Delia different? How is she specifically a turning point for Jessie? Because Jessie's flaws go well beyond just bossing people around.

I would love if my abuser had the same outcome as your Jessie. I adore your portayals of hanamusa, where she's still flawed but still strives to do better. That's all I ever wanted from my ex.

What the fuck got her there tho.

Anyways I've been watching a lot of Bojack Horseman lately -

I agree with you! I don't think abusive relationships (or any tough subject matter in general) should be shied away from in media. It can be powerful when executed well and written by folks who are equipped to tell those kinds of stories. I do think it's sad when people treat it as off limits. But the ask I got was definitely more about which ships I have where I actually like the relationship between the characters. I think the semantics of the word "ship" are kind of vague or rather, over time, got so specific to only mean "absolutely love together and want them as endgame" (for most people anyways). So that's usually what I take the word to mean when people ask me about it.

I can 100% appreciate how an abusive relationship is written and handled, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna ship an abuser with their victim (that falls into the glorifying you're talking about). Love Bojack Horseman! Big fan! I think the way they handled Bojack and Sarah Lynn was beautifully and tragically well written. But does that mean I ship Bojack and Sarah Lynn? Absolutely fucking not.

I've talked about Jessie's character plenty on this blog and the way she's handled in earlier seasons specifically. This is kind of a summary: If we look at it on surface level, yes we can say she was abusive. But I think it's important to acknowledge and take into account the medium, time period and culture. Slapstick and cartoon violence was HUGE in anime and animation in the 90s (and prior to that too). Characters were always cartoonishly slapping each other around with giant mallets, folding fans, etc. Looney Tunes style. These slapstick bits were always distinct from real abuse and hurt (for Pokémon, Jessiebelle comes to mind). Mean slapstick wasn't a character trait exclusive to Jessie either. We saw it in Misty, James, Meowth, characters of the day and pretty much any character who got mad. It was a visual shortcut to show anger.

This type of slapstick has since (thankfully) died out and it hasn't really been a part of the Pokémon franchise since the early 2000s. However, Jessie was a notably special case. One of my favorite fun facts about the Pokémon anime is that there was a point in the series where Megumi Hayashibara (Jessie/Musashi's seiyuu) told the writers that moving forward, she no longer wanted Jessie to be violent or to be shown hitting James or Meowth (source: her memoir "The Characters Taught Me Everything"). She thought it directly went against the vision Takeshi Shudo had for Jessie, James and Meowth, when he created them, which was that they are good natured villains. If you watch from DP and on, Jessie never lays a hand on either of them. I think it was a such a good move on Pokémon's part to change her character like that and I'm forever grateful that Hayashibara said something! Whenever I write Jessie now, I always keep that in mind. She's mean, shouty and stupid but would never genuinely hurt those she cares about.

From then, her character becomes much more bearable. She's still bossy, mean and vain (typical cartoon villainess attributes) but I'd hesitate to say abusive. She'll still yell at James and Meowth, they all yell at each other, but in more of a sibling way (imo) rather than a "i'm actively trying to hurt your feelings way". The show makes a point especially in later seasons to show that Jessie, James and Meowth are not beyond being redeemed. From conception the whole POINT of the Team Rocket trio was that they are redeemable but their persistence and obsession keeps getting in the way of them seeing that there's a better life for them out there.

I won't deny that Jessie was unsavory in earlier seasons, but when I write her, I choose to write the version that Takeshi Shudo and Megumi Hayashibara had envisioned from the get go. She's still incredibly flawed and makes plenty missteps but wants to be better as you stated! My favorite part about Jessie is that she's a piece of shit LOL and I enjoy writing the changes she goes through to be better (but then still showing her default so some of her evil tendencies). In this AU, Delia doesn't fix Jessie. Jessie fixes Jessie because she is with someone makes her want to be a better person. She's already in the middle of turning over a new leaf before even meeting Delia, after leaving Team Rocket. Writing Jessie as legitimately abusive I think could work, but that's not my story to tell and if someone who were more equipped to tell that story did, I'd be very interested to take a listen!

I hope this doesn't come off as trying to deny or invalidate your experience. If you see that in Jessie, I hear you! This is just how I've interpreted her character over the years, having watched every episode of Pokémon and reading Japanese interviews from the cast and crew. She's such a compelling character and I love how messy she is

#ask yam #long post #tw abuse

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lorryicious · 6 months ago

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do you perhaps have any more Loretta/Bill content I’m VERY curious about their dynamic now 👁️👁️

I HAVE. SO MUCH. CONTENT. Loretta has been an oc I have had for YEARS so I absolutely have SO much stuff on her! Shes definitely my favorite oc alongside Jack, my other gravity falls oc. The short of it is they are forced to work together out of inconvenience by the Axolotl.. The most recent development has been the change in Lorettas ability revolving her sight because I thought it would be so cool if Loretta had the same/similar kind of mutation to Bill. It didn't change much to her character, just another reason why they ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time (time police events. I seriously need to write fanfic of the whole story LMAO)

Their dynamic is SO FUN. They bicker ALL the time and usually are yapping about something. They live together, so I think they argue over the smallest things. When they first ended up needing to work together, Bill was not thrilled AT ALL. He was VERY closed off. Loretta, not knowing this creature at all, just decided to let him do his own thing. It's only after an event where Loretta protects Bill when he's at his weakest that Bill realizes Loretta is harmless and that it wouldn't hurt to try to get some enjoyment out of her company. That turns into an actual friendship, which turns into Bill finding out Loretta is like him. Through this, they open up and become closer because of their similar identities. They just ended up on different paths because of their own mutations AUGH. Bill wanted more, when in comparison Loretta was content with what her world was already like.

Loretta is a demon hunter. She takes bounties from individuals around town to get rid of weirdness. She naturally has a knack for attracting it, so the job is perfect for her. Bill helps her with her bounties; in exchange, Loretta lets Bill drain her energy so he can regain his physical form. I have a whole animatic on my tiktok that shows how the possession works-

They are silly. They fight over what to watch on the tv, they karaoke and drink together, it takes AGES for Bill to actually open up to Loretta, Whenever they decide to share the bed (even though Bill doesn't sleep) he kicks off Lorreta off of it anyway just to frustrate her, they do makeup together, They drive up to one of the hills in gravity falls via Loretta's motorcycle and watch the sunset together. Love them. I have SO many thoughts on their dynamic, but they are there for each other, and despite all their issues, they love each other. They NEVER say it to each other because Bill is deathly scared of that word.

They are an oc x canon ship so they are together as partners TECHNICALLY. Still, I also think they are so messed up via the canon story that an ACTUAL domestic relationship dynamic just doesn't work for the two. Plus, Bill needs help understanding labels and Loretta doesn't need them. Plus there's the Jack situation...Which is a WHOLE OTHER RANT. JACK. AUGH. The love triangle (literally) goes insane. In my happy au they are a polycule asf.

Literally ask ANY questions about them, I might even draw something up if its a fun scenario you guys send,,, I LOVE THAT PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THE OCS BECAUSE !!!! I HAVE SO MUCH CONTENT FOR THEM.

Some of this is older art but it still works <33 and I STILL LOVE IT

This one I did recently-

Great side effect for being able to see outside your plane of reality AND being intertwined to a demon, you get to relive HIS trauma TOO!! (imagine how horrifying that was when Loretta told Bill the dreams shes been having) (double note: Bill played it off like they were random when he was FREAKING OUT ON THE INSIDE)

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regalastor · 23 days ago

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Amor in ea Purissima Est (III)

Lucius Verus Aurelius x fem!OC

summary: Anna reconsiders her future when Lucius’ lies are revealed.

author's notes: Thank you all so much for the feedback and continued support! Please leave comments and let me know what you think! This part is shorter in hopes of a longer part IV (I went back to work this week and have been drowning a bit). Lots of canon divergence is present in this fic!

warnings: attempted violence, discussions of abuse and loss of loved ones. not all themes are tagged. rating: 18+

part I - https://www.tumblr.com/regalastor/772223672271372288/amor-in-ea-purissima-est?source=share

part II - https://www.tumblr.com/regalastor/772432627132186624/amor-in-ea-purissima-est-pt-ii?source=share

Once Lucius returned to the palace after seeing Anna home from the market, he was quick to make his way to the healer’s quarters.

“Good evening, Caesar,” Ravi greeted. Lucius didn’t bother with formalities or greetings.

“I need you to write to Anna and offer her a position here, working with you,” He stated and Ravi looked at him for a moment before nodding.

“As you wish. She is good at what she does,” Ravi agreed. “Any details I should include to match your story?” Lucius’ lips tugged upwards slightly.

“Only that you thought of her after I mentioned meeting a young healer.”

“And what does she think of the emperor pursuing her?” Ravi asked, and Lucius let out a deep breath.

“She thinks I am a Praetorian,” He admitted. Ravi looked up at him with a slightly shocked expression.

“Forgive me, but what do you think will happen when she begins her work here and learns who you are?” Lucius ran his hands over his face.

“I have not solved that problem yet, but I will,” Lucius assured, looking around the room. He did feel guilty for allowing her to believe the lie he was insinuating, though he had technically never told her what he did at the palace. “Thank you, Ravi. Will you let me know when you receive a response?” Ravi nodded.

“Of course, Caesar,” Lucius inclined his head towards his friend before bidding him goodnight and heading back towards the main floor of the palace. Just over a week passed before Ravi informed Lucius that he had met with Anna, and that she had agreed to work at the palace. He had been relieved beyond all measure, but now he had to come up with a solution to fix the problem of his falsehood towards her, without scaring her off.

Anna’s first day at the palace was overwhelming, yet it went quite well. She thoroughly enjoyed working with Ravi and the consistent hours, better pay, and the environment was peaceful. No one had bothered her, or even spoken to her out of turn. She felt respected and valued. She had hoped that she would see Lucius during her work, but she had yet to even see a glimpse of him.

“The guard who encouraged me to come here, Lucius, do you know him well?” Anna asked Ravi after a few days with no sightings of the handsome warrior. She knew it was an invasive question, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. Ravi seemed slightly surprised by her question, and he remained silent for a moment before answering.

“Yes, I suppose I do. He is stoic, and reserved, but thoughtful and strong and has an empathetic soul,” Ravi said truthfully. Anna smiled softly at the description. “He seemed rather taken with you.” Anna’s cheeks burned at the comment.

“Apparently not. I thought I would see him once I arrived, but it has been nearly a week,” She told him. The man nodded, but waited a few moments before responding.

“Perhaps he does not want you to think he is being overly insistent on garnering your attention.” Anna laughed a little at his comment, but changed the subject after that.

Another week later, Anna found herself seated in the garden, picking herbs and pulling the leaves apart carefully in order to make a new salve. She was enjoying this job, and having access to every supply and piece of equipment needed was a nice perk.

“Should a woman as beautiful as you be pulling weeds?” A voice asked from behind Anna, making her look up confused. She shielded her eyes to see the man speaking to her. He was dressed in a worker’s clothes, but he had groomer’s boots on. She sent him a polite smile before turning back to her work.

“It is not weeds,” She said softly, reaching up to show the man the leaves she was pulling off of the plant. He hummed watching as she continued her work.

“What is your name? I have not seen you before.”

“Anna, I am Ravi’s assistant,” She didn’t look up at him, as she was focused on not tearing the stem in her hand.

“And, Ravi’s assistant, do you believe it is proper to ignore those trying to speak to you?” He asked, moving to block the sun out of her face, his presence now making her feel small and trapped. Panic rose in her chest as she looked up at him, and she tried to breathe through her nose to keep her chest from rising and falling dramatically.

“Forgive me, I was not trying to ignore you,” She assured, hoping deference would make him leave her alone. “I will be expected to return soon,” She stood up and held the basket loosely in front of her.

“I am sure you could remain for a few moments,” The man looked her up and down; her stomach flipped with nausea. Anna shook her head and took a step backwards.

“I should not be late, Ravi will be waiting-“

“Let him wait then, such a beauty needs to be admired,” He reached forward and gripped her wrist. Anna froze as he tugged her close to him, the basket of leaves falling from her hands. “You cannot just be a healer, not with a face like this,” His hand gripped her chin and tilted her head up to face him. She closed her eyes tightly, utterly horrified by the tears beginning to burn in her eyes.

“Please let me go,” She whispered, her voice sounding much weaker and smaller than she would have preferred.

“I-“ The man started to say but was interrupted by a force pulling him backwards, his grip on Anna dropping immediately as he turned to face his assailant, only to be knocked to the ground by the blow of a fist. Anna covered her mouth with her hands as she stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her skirts. She quickly wiped her eyes and looked to the person standing above her attacker. Lucius. Lucius stepped over the man still on the ground, who was cradling his own jaw, and placed a gentle hand on her face. He wiped her tears with his thumb and looked into her eyes as if he was assessing the damage done.

“I am fine,” She whispered, still staring into his deep blue eyes. He nodded at her, brushing some of her loose hairs from her face, nothing but adoration in his eyes. Anna heard commotion coming towards the and Lucius closed his eyes for a second.

“Please forgive me, Anna,” He said to her before dropping his hands from her face and turning around. He reached down and grabbed the man by his collar before pulling him to his feet.

“Caesar!” A guard called and Anna stepped back. Who were these guards calling to? There were no other people in the garden.

“I want to deal with him later, is that understood?” Lucius said, shoving the man towards two of the guards. They both bowed slightly and took a hold of the man. Another one of the guards looked over to Anna, as if he wanted to speak to her, but Lucius held up a hand, and the guard stopped obediently. “I will handle this,” Lucius said, the remaining guards bowing.

“Yes, Caesar,” They said before turning and leaving Anna and Lucius in the garden. Anna felt like she was going to throw up. Lucius turned around to look at Anna; her jaw was tightly clenched, and her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist as if she was trying to comfort and protect herself at the same time. Her eyes were fixed on the ground and her head was bowed slightly.

“Anna,” Lucius said quietly, stepping towards her. She took a step back; once again, he could see she was shaking. “Anna, please forgive me, I was not trying to deceive-“

“There is nothing to apologize for, your grace,” His stomach dropped at the title. Lucius shook his head.

“Please do not-“

“I am sorry, your grace, for my lack of awareness,” Anna swallowed her anxiety. “I must return to my work, if you will allow it, my lord,” She still didn’t look at him.

“Anna, you know you may do as you please here,” Lucius said quietly.

“Thank you, Caesar,” She murmured before bobbing a curtsy and all but running past him into the palace. Once she was out of his view, she pressed herself into the nearest wall and crumbled to her knees.

Anna could not believe this was happening—she had been dreaming of the new emperor of Rome every night when she closed her eyes. Part of her wanted to run away and never show her face in Rome again, but another part of her wanted to confront Lucius for his deception. She did not think that he intentionally deceived her, after all he had never told her he was a guard, he just let her assume it. She also did not think that Lucius meant to humiliate her, and yet she felt sick to her stomach knowing she had been manipulated in such a a way. Her instincts had been right when they warned her against him, but she was too dumbfounded by his attractiveness and kindness to flesh out her own anxieties. She cried on the floor of the palace for a while before she carefully stood up and went back down to the healer’s quarters.

“There you are, I was worried you had gotten lost,” Ravi said upon hearing Anna come in. He looked up at her and paused his work. He could tell she had been crying.

“Did you know?” She asked him quietly, he didn’t need to have her clarify what she meant.

“Yes. I knew him first as a gladiator,” Ravi explained and Anna shook her head covering her face with her hands. “I understand your anger, truly, but I do not believe the emperor had any ill intent. Words are not his strong suit, and he demonstrates care through action,” Anna did not reply and instead busied herself with finishing one of her current salves. “Does this knowledge lessen your affection for him?” Ravi asked after a moment; Anna stilled her hands, but did not respond. “The emperor has no desire to make a political match, he is only after love and companionship. Whether or not you admit it to yourself, you are interested in those things as well. It is your choice to admit to these desires, but either way, if you did have any affections for him, are they now lessened because of his title?” Anna still did not answer, but the question weighed heavy on her mind. She did not speak again, except for when necessary for work purposes, the rest of the day. She escaped the palace quickly that evening and made it to her home without seeing another soul.

As she sat in her courtyard after dinner, watching as Cato played alone, she began to question her own feelings. She thought about what it would be like to accept Lucius; if he even really wanted her for more than a physical relationship. She thought about the idea of having more children, of getting remarried, and she found her heart was not full of dread, but rather hope.

#lucius verus #lucius verus x reader #fanfic #gladiator 2 #gladiator ll #gladiator movie #lucius verus aurelius #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal #ancient rome #marcus acacius #lucius verus aurelius x reader

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 2 years ago

Text

Baby Blues || D. Targaryen x oc (Dear Motherhood Series)

GIF by @fireandbloodsource DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: In which a 15 year old Leyla Hightower experiences postpartum depression and all of the Red Keep and Daemon himself, feel the wrath of it. (head-canon to second choice)

Dear Motherhood Series Masterlist

warning: oc is 15 when she gives birth

The babe’s cries was all the could be heard inside the birthing chamber. The handmaidens all gushed at the baby as they cleaned her up. Leyla laid there motionless. She had never experienced so much pain in all of her years.

Her head slowly turned to the door to which Daemon entered with a smile plastered on his face. He immediately moved to the bed where his Lady wife laid and kissed her forehead, “You did such a good job, ñuha ābrazȳrys” He whispered as Leyla only gave a tight lipped smile (my wife)

She watched as he moved away from her and to their daughter who they already found a name, Alyssa. All the noises around the room had become muffled to the young Hightower and she didn’t even realise that Daemon was talking to her.

“Leyla? I asked if you want to hold her” He cradled the little girl in his arms. She didn’t want to in all honesty. She felt so incredibly exhausted and her body still ached from delivering her child mere minutes ago.

“Okay” She whispered before Daemon laid the babe on her chest to which she groaned. “Why isn’t she properly cleaned” The young girl quipped , her head turned to the handmaidens who quickly apologised and scooped her up to clean her properly.

Watching the whole ordeal, Daemon held Leyla’s hand. “How are you feeling? I imagine the labour was not easy?” He attempted to comfort her but Leyla stared off into the distance, not replying to him.

The prince moved form the bed to a handmaiden, “Did anything happen during the labour?” He questioned as he stared at his Lady Wife. “No your Grace, everything went normal” She replied before curtsying and walking away.

Leyla walked alongside her Husband, a 2 month old Alyssa in her arms. The two walked into Godswood where there was a celebration held for her sister’s pregnancy.

Whispers could be heard around as they stared at the young Hightower. Daemon too felt the tense atmosphere as he rested his hand on the curve of Leyla’s back. Her face was cold and expressionless.

The past 2 months Leyla had been acting incredibly off. Everyone could notice it people around the Keep would constantly gossip and whisper about it. Maybe it was the fact that she was only 15, and yet she already has child to the Rogue Prince himself.

“If you wish to talk about me, at least talk to my face about it” Leyla’s cold words stunned the group of highborn ladies as they look down to the ground; Daemon too glares at the group who were gossiping about his Lady Wife.

She continued walking to her father, King Viserys, and her sister who saw the ordeal. “Sister, how are you” Alicent gives a warm smile to the younger as she hugs her, cautious of the baby in her arms. “The same as always, sister” Leyla deadpanned before turning to greet the King and her father.

Alicent looks to Daemon with a sad expression as he sighs. Leyla beckons for the wet nurse who quickly took the child out of her arms. She couldn’t even find it in herself to look at her daughter as she was taken away.

Both Daemon and Leyla were taken around to different conversations and the whole time, she would stare down at her cup and not utter a word. “Should we go retire to your solar?” The silver haired men says lowly against her head as she nods, Daemon knew she wanted rest, she didn’t even want to be here but she didn’t want to hurt her sister’s feelings by not showing up.

Leyla let out a loud sigh once she sat down. Daemon sat at the chair opposite and busied himself with a book. The wet nurse placed Alyssa back in her mothers arms. Soon after she immediately started crying as Leyla rocked her to try to stop her loud wails but to no avail, the Targaryen babe continued.

Daemon rubbed his temples as he watched his Lady Wife attempting to calm down their daughter. “Hasn’t she already been fed and changed?” Leyla looked to the wet nurse who looked nervous but nonetheless nodded.

“Then why does she keep crying?!” She muttered annoyed at her baby. “Take her, she’s driving me insane” The young Hightower stood up, ready to give Alyssa back to the wet nurse. “Alyssa is not going to be comforted by the wet nurse but by you Leyla” Daemon sternly spoke, his eyes not leaving the book.

Both the wet nurse and Leyla look at Daemon, Alyssa’s cries intensifying by the minute. “I am already exhausted as it is Daemon-“ “Your her mother, you should be able to soothe your own child, am I wrong?” Daemon finally looks up.

Leyla was baffled, she opened her mouth and closed it soon after. She felt like bawling her eyes out too. “Please, please, please Alyssa stop crying.” Her voice cracked as she patted the babe’s back and walked around her solar desperately trying to calm down her daughter.

The wet nurse and Daemon watch her as tears fall down Leyla’s eyes, Alyssa had still not stopped crying. Daemon stood up and walked over to Leyla and took their daughter from her arms.

He calmed her down in an instant as Leyla sat down, her hand massaging her forehead. The wet nurse took the baby from Daemon so that he could comfort his Lady Wife.

He said nothing as he moved her head against her chest as she sobbed. “I am so exhausted Daemon, Alyssa- she’s-she’s so much work and its draining me” She quietly spoke as Daemon did nothing but listen to her troubles and stroke her back soothingly.

“I am no cut out to be a mother-“ The door to her solar opened loudly and startled the girl. Quickly sitting up and wiping the remainder of her tears, Daemon rolled his eyes and leaned back on the chair, oh how he hated seeing his face around. If he wasn’t his wife’s father, Daemon would have slit his throat ages ago.

Otto first looked at the wet nurse who was rocking his granddaughter in her arms before looking at Leyla. With a stern voice he orders the wet nurse to leave, and then Daemon. “If you think I’m leaving my wife in the presence of her cunt of a father, your wrong” He chuckles as Otto’s lips part in disbelief.

“You think I’d harm my own flesh and blood, my Prince?” He raises an eyebrow at the silver haired man. With a shrug of his shoulders, Daemon looks at Leyla who’s gaze is on her hands as she picks at her nails. He holds her hand to stop her from harming herself before looming up at Otto.

“You’ve harmed her enough by arranging this marriage. Now, you either speak to her whilst I’m here or you don’t speak to her at all” Otto scoffs shaking his head before taking a seat opposite the two. “Daemon. It’s okay” Leyla finally looks up to him.

He lets out a breathe, “I’m not leaving this room,” He says before standing up and making his way to the bookshelf. The two Hightower’s watch the Prince before their attention go back to each other.

“There has been talk around the Red Keep that you have been acting differently,” He starts off, “And do you believe them? They’re just talk father, they know nothing” Leyla scoffs in disbelief. The fact that he assumes the talk is true without even consulting with his own daughter about it was sad.

“I don’t have to believe them Leyla, I have seen it myself,” Otto stares into his daughter’s soul as she gulps. His comment made Daemon look to the two. “It’s not difficult to notice how ignorant you are to your own child. Gods, you walk around the place like a ghost Leyla!” He half shouts.

Daemon makes his presence known as he takes a seat near the two of them. Leyla glances at him before looking at her father again, “Father I’ve just been tired and she’s alot of work!-“ “Don’t act as if you take care of the child. Your wet nurse and maids do.”

Daemon chuckles, “She takes better care of her own child than you ever did when Leyla’s mother died” He butts in. Ignoring the Prince’s comment Otto continues, “People are saying you are incapable of being a mother-“ “Because I am!” Leyla yells, leaning forward in her seat as tears start rolling down her face again.

Daemon shifts in his seat as he leans over and rubs her arm. Otto looks taken aback, he was not expecting that answer from her daughter. “Oh please father,” She chokes back a chuckle, “Don’t act as if you’re surprised. I’m 15 for gods sake! Of course I’m incapable of looking after another human being, what did you expect?” Leyla spat in anger.

All her pent up emotions building up from the past 2 months were finally spilling out. “You act as if it is my fault for your ill-manner behaviour towards your own flesh and flood!” Otto points to her. “If it wasn’t for your pressure of producing heirs for Daemon and this marriage, I wouldn’t be in this situation” Leyla spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence filled the room. “I think it’s best you leave, Otto” Daemon stands up and looks down at him. The man scoffs and gives one final look to his daughter before leaving the room.

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fanfiction #matt smith #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x oc #otto hightower #alicent hightower #king viserys #kings landing #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x oc #daemon targaryen headcanon #hotd daemon #dearmotherhoodseries

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gaytommykinard · 30 days ago

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(this...got long. there's a lot of backstory and two OCs. bear with me)

ok i was brainstorming in the gc about this bucktommy different first meeting au thats canon divergence from s2 which would begin with buck as a single dad to a 4 year old

because one day he wakes up and social services is at his (abby's) door like surprise! you have a child! or at least that's what it feels like because buck never knew about the kid's existence because the kid's mom did not deem it worthy to let him know. it's not like she couldn't track him down, they were facebook friends. but she still kept this from him? which would cause him so much turmoil, like, that she didn't want her kid to know buck is her dad? local area man loses last shred of self esteem he already had a strenuous grasp on.

but now she's dead, so he can't even talk to her about it, and yeah, there's a 4 year old girl in his house who is missing her mom and not liking this new stranger at all. buck is trying so fucking hard to not break down in front of her but he comes close several times. like, is he ready to be a dad? hell no! he's not now (27) any more than he was when she was born (23) but the point is he IS a dad and he's trying so hard to be a good one. (listen, if you know more about the system and you think this is all wrong: i am sorry. this is a romcom and/or romdrama genre type of story. okay? cool!)

so this woman, someone he knew briefly, and they didn't exactly date, but it wasn't exactly a one-night-stand either, but this woman put him on the birth certificate because she was planning to tell the kid when she was old enough and let her decide if she wants to meet him. she wasn't planning on having kids this soon (28), but it happened, and she decided to keep it, she had a decent job and her own place and an adorable, grumpy old cat who stuck himself to her 24/7 when she was pregnant. her parents were well off and yes, of course they were disappointed, because they wanted better for her, but they got over it quickly. and she really liked evan, but he was three states over by the time she found out, and it seemed like a headache to try to coparent with the fuck buddy you hardly got to know for the month and a half you were together, anyway.

the tragedy is that buck will never really know that. this is very much a putting him in a jar and shaking it around scenario. the point is... buck is struggling. a lot.

and then he meets tommy one night. a rare night out (it's taken him a while to get everything sorted, get his daughter registered in a preschool, find a reliable babysitter (who knew childcare is so fucking hard to arrange when you're estranged from your family and your friends are either the people who work alongside you or your ex-(frat house)-roommates?) but he's getting a handle on things) and chimney invites him out one night because he's going stir-crazy at home recuperating from the near fatal stabbing and buck owes him for all the babysitting favours (there were like. 3 instances, if that. and chimney volunteered because he's actually good with kids, which totally surprises buck but he trusts chimney. and he trusts hen a little more)

anyway. he shows up at the bar and there's chimney and a total stranger. a very handsome stranger. a very funny, charming, handsome stranger.

and tommy. ten minutes into the conversation (work calls, chimney wanted to know, he has terrible fomo), chimes in with, "wait, you're the probie!" because he'd heard a thing or two from chimney, they kept in touch after he transferred, no one, not even canon, can take away my chimneytommy bestfriendsim from me, okay? like chimney would text tommy "can't believe you abandoned us. the probie just stole the ladder truck to get laid" so tommy does not expect this guy to be that guy from chimney's stories.

and yeah. buck had barely finished his probationary year before he got custody of his daughter. and it's been maybe half a year of trying to parent a grief-stricken 4-year-old with more energy than she knows what to do with (once she warms up to buck, she comes out of her shell, and quite literally wreaks havoc in the new house, which isn't in the best state to begin with anyway). and he's so tired. there's like permanent bags under his eyes and a preschool-slash-childcare calendar floating around in his brain 24/7. he maxes out at two beers and then switches to a glass of wine tommy recommends and nurses it for the rest of the night.

because the two of them stay and keep talking long after chimney heads home. tommy listens as buck rambles on about remy. offers to bring her around harbor and he'll give them both a tour. and buck lights up at that. he's totally enchanted by tommy (and he can't really figure out why just yet)

tommy gets a text from chimney the next day asking if he got lucky. and oh my god he fucking wishes he had gotten lucky. he was so tempted to ask if buck wanted to come over. have another drink with him at home. (if buck was into it, then yes, he'd be totally down to fuck. if he got awkward, tommy would have clarified that it was merely a friendly invitation. it's schrodinger's preposition). but he chickened out at the last minute, because yes, he's out now, but still not as confident as he'd like to be, not brave enough to ask out another firefighter, and definitely not a friend of a friend.

but buck calls him about that tour and tommy is more than happy to show them around. he talks to remy like she's his equal, and she warms up to him right around the end of the tour, finds her voice and asks tommy how high can he fly and tells him she can fly higher than that. tommy finds that adorable. (enough to buy her an RC helicopter for christmas. he "was at the shop buying stuff for the toy drive anyway, evan, it's not a big deal! you're the one who said she asked santa for a helicopter!")

it is absolutely a big deal. buck is like. a puddle on the floor. god help him. and yes at some point it occurred to him that he likes tommy. like-likes him. so buck invites him over on christmas eve eve when they're both off and accidentally-on-purpose catches him under the mistletoe and kisses him.

evan buckley started the year as a straight, single man and a probationary firefighter. and he's finishing it a bisexual dad to his 4 year old daughter, and a "we'll see how it goes but yeah i'll be your date for new years eve" man by his side. and i think that's hilarious.

#send post #bucktommy #single dad buck au #bucktommy au #kid fic ideas

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familyagrestefanblog · 1 year ago

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Jep, this is basically it.

A+ additional tags 👏👏

ML Hot Take

Chat noir is hiding just as much from Ladybug as she is from him, and they are both doing it just so the other is kept safe and unburdened because they both have a flawed understanding of the other, which leaves them both at fault for the ladynoir fall out.

#MLB #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Ladynoir conflict #I miss loving this girl so much #Why this 'feminist' show demanded that girls need to be praised for being questionable leaders and partners is beyond me #Even in s5 she's BARELY acknowledging that Chat exists underneath the mask and only does so in Kwamis choice when she's basically forced to #'she loves him so much!' is not an argument nor an actual Canon observation anymore bc shes beyond RECKLESS with his life and emotions #Buddy. Her not wanting him dead or not wanting him in pain is neither a standard nor an excuse fordoing everything on his damn expense #She barely ever even TRIED giving the boy underneath the mask an ounce of proper help while she is all he gets to have as support #And her wanting to kiss him in s5 doesn't equal her actually helping him either #The only time she did her damn job towards him was Passion and there Adrien was deadass basically holding her Miraculous hostage #And then she never really does anything again or before that. No matter how many times she sees Chat badly struggle in front of her #No wonder that boy didn't make it out of this partnership #My Ladynoir heart will never stop bleeding and you have to be delusional to think s4 made them STRONGER #Whne s5 Ladynoir is either kind colleagues the way she demanded in s4 or deader than Emilie bc Adrien actualy needed some stability for onc #Yes she loves her Chaton but my problem is that CHATON is all she allows him to be and treats him as if he doesnt exist as civilian #Not to mention that she's never owed up to him about having a second partner behind his back when Alya should have been the helper to BOTH #If Alya had she might hav been able to take the Ring in the finale so Mari isnt ALONE but couldnt bc Mari neglected Destruction to Alya TOO #Oc Alya was too afraid to take Destruction in the finale. Nothing about what Mari's leadership teached her gave the Black Cat any relevance #besides 'anomynous little pet to take emotions out on' & 'emotional support partner whose civilian life is irrelevant'#and all the Ladybug has to do being 'try to laugh' & 'tollerating them when they think you owe them anything unti they learned their lesson #Its not like Alya didnt just accept a random new Black Cat in Kwamis Ch. & didnt even ask for a NAME bc safety around the Cat means NOTHING #Plus LB ALSO denied him the right to get someone himself while still being perfectly fine with Chat further showering her in support #Support she's not giving back & seemingly never considered he might ever need as well beyond a little sentence and cute nickname from her #Despite him openly showing his problems in front of her in s5 several times and yet doing basically nothing to help?#What. Was she simply too comfortable gettin showered in support while hardly bein ask anythin besides not starting raging & screaming again #So she rather kept him believing her lie taht she's ALWAYS been as isolated AS HIM so nothing changes and he doesn't ask for more?#Since from Adriens perspective LB lost Scarabella in Kwamis Ch. who he was made to believe was a person she picked on the spot nothing more #What happened to the boy underneath Chats mask in the s5 finale was something Marinette was WILLING to risk by choosing to look away instea

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zucchinitart · 7 months ago

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skinty LJ 💕

finally gonna make a ref sheet for this man!! repurposing an old sketch cuz I still generally agree with the design…I actually intended to render that old sketch but never did 😭

now here’s some never-before-revealed lore and headcanons!! (this all takes place in a story I’ve never created except in my head 💀 also some have been told, I’m just reiterating them):

-This is how LJ generally looks between the years 1817 to 1886. He was “born” in 1803, stayed with Isaac for one year, got stuck in the box for 13 years, and only started wearing bandages in 1817 once he became a target to the public. As he started getting more wounds, he found out that they would open up easily and opted to wear bandages most of the time.

-He can’t eat as he lacks a digestive system. Instead, he feeds on human interaction. The more positive the interaction, the better it is for him. Because he had such a poor relationship with humans during these years, he ends up looking starved. He’s quite weak in this state, and the only thing keeping him alive is his wit and his sharp nails for weapons.

-His limbs are black right above the connection of his joints (knees and elbows). The rest of his skin is white.

-His hair would be naturally curly, but due to improper care and the long length dragging it down, it ends up looking wavy and sometimes even straight, albeit very frizzy and/or greasy.

-In 1886, that’s when LJ and Lillian first meet (omg OC and canon??? gross 😰🤢). They create a pact, and he starts getting more positive interaction with humans. As he gets more “sustenance,” his wounds start to heal properly and he gets stronger. Unfortunately, most of his wounds have scarred over at this point and they remain on his body as it’s now recognized as “healthy” tissue. (Placement of scars will be in another post)

-Lillian is 23 when she first meets LJ.

-Before his strength improved, Lillian could actually beat LJ in an arm wrestling contest!! But after about a few months of being together, that was no longer the case. (Lillian’s ego was a little hurt, but it was inevitable 😞)

-Although it looks like it, he never actually felt starved. He doesn’t experience typical feelings like hunger or fulfillment.

-Sadly, he’ll never retain his curl pattern. Lillian tries very hard to get it back as she has her own experience with her hair, but she can never get more than a few curls on his head. She gives up at some point and just accepts his wavy/straight hair as is. LJ truly doesn’t care either way. If he had his way, he’d probably forget and never wash it again.

-the dickless look is on purpose!!! No reproductive system means no dick!! Yippee, no nsfw 🤗 Unless I feel freaky, which will most definitely happen…so if you ever see him with a dick, it’s just for my own nefarious purposes 😞

-When Lillian first found out how old LJ was, she said “wow, you could be my grandpa….” LJ didn’t take too kindly to that and scolded her like a grandpa.

-His body stopped aging once Isaac died. In this version, Isaac dies at the age of 21. LJ is physically around 5 years older than Isaac, so his physical age is stuck at around 26 (but it’s not rlly trustworthy as his body isn’t comparable to a typical human’s…I’d say it’s probably between 25-35 though)

I want to get into so much lore, but I wanna save it for when I draw a comic or something. Ty for reading if you read this far!! 💕

#laughing jack #creepypasta fanart #sketch #headcanon dump

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beausprouts · 8 months ago

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PLEASEEEE GIVE US THE LORE TIMELINE FOR UR AU

WELL I MEAN IF YOU INSIST-

I made this timeline JUST FOR THIS MOMENT. More rambling under the cut if anyone is curious 👍

So essentially I changed everything because I can. I've been in the fandom since like the first game came out and I was a baby so it's my right to mold the lore to what I want thank you very much.

I essentially just condensed it. So FNAF 3 and the events of the Steel Wool era are combined. It makes sense to me that a company like the one that owns the Pizzaplex would use a literal real life murder spree to make a haunted house. Did you guys see the Scraptrap arcade cabinet? Yeah. Exactly.

I took inspiration from the movie with how Will was able to have a weird psychic connection to the kids, and controlled them in a way to how Henry's relationship with the missing children is in this continuity. He was essentially able to convince them it was Will that killed them. Only Charlie knows the truth, because she hasn't revealed herself to her father and pretty much saw everything happen (yikes). I like to think that Charlie and Will kind of team up similarly to how Henry and Mike team up in canon? A perfect mirror flip.

I'm toying big time with some twists, I do like the mimic as a villain but I haven't decided yet if I'm going to use him for this plotline. Maybe! Who knows maybe Henry never made it to his 70s and the current CEO was the mimic all along ooh spoookyyy.

My OC Beau essentially replaces Vanny as the partner in crime to Springtrap. Though this time the goal is to clear his name and to free the souls of the children. Vanessa is still around but nothing bad ever happens to her because she doesn't deserve it and I love her.

I want Michael to get out of the Sister Location spot under the Pizzaplex and become a minor antagonist too because him, Evan, and Elizabeth all also blame William for what happened, what reason would they have to believe otherwise its fair.

So yeah y'know, drawing my stupid oc being silly with Springs ended up getting its own lore bible my bad. Autism moment.

#fnaf au #william afton #henry emily #beauart #beauspeak #listen i am THE YAPPER #i was WAITING for someone to ask y'all should not have asked!!!!#thank you for asking sobs #who framed william afton au

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loolilyumm · 2 months ago

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I am screaming. Sobbing. Girlboss and fail-wife is my favorite dynamic. The way you draw is so pretty and your colors are so good plus people who draw 3 with sanitization scars are literally so cool I mean look at acht, there’s canonical examples of it. But literally going aaaa rn because I love your ocs.

We got Reese and Margot, how about 4 and 8?

OMG AHH IM SO SOSOSO HAPPY YOU LIKE THEM..AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASKS I LOVE ANSWERING THEM!! 🫶🫶🫶

I want to yap about my agents in separate posts so this one will be all about 8!

THIS IS OLIVE! She became agent 8 in the deepsea metro and has been a super active agent in the NSS ever since! They are like family to her - she lived with Pearl and Marina for almost 3 years before moving in with Reese! (Captain/Agent 3)

She was 14 during splatoon 1, and 16 during the events of octo expansion. Now in splat 3 she is 19!

She mains the dark tetra dualies but can use any weapon. She's super fast and agile so she likes weapons that work well with her speed.

She was an elite solider in the octoling army - she had just become one before she was ambushed by Cuttlefish and agent 3 (Reese) and they all fell into the metro.

None of them ended up falling in the same area of the metro, and Olive ended up being found by Tartar’s sanitized octolings and taken to the sanitation chambers to have her memory erased.

Side tangent - I have a specific idea in mind about how octolings are sanitized. If you want to watch this video, it explains it really well - https://youtu.be/zu4czvg5ClI?si=wFz1lABgkv7hz8Wk

youtube

But TLDR, there are 2 stages of sanitization. Stage one includes being wiped of all memories. The subject then has to go through a series of tests and trials before Tartar decides what to do with them based on how well they did. Then they get either blended or brainwashed into oblivion! 😆😆 woohoo yay! J think based on the side order diaries it kind of confirmed that 8 went through that first process…it just never said how so I made that part up. Lol

ANYWAY..!!! At the same time Olive is taken, Reese wakes up and begins searching for captain Cuttlefish. He doesn’t find him, but you know what he does find??!!?!?

WHOAAA WOWWW HE FINDS OLIVE

He’s like holy cow..! That’s the girl that was just attacking me…😦 and he’s like ahhh! I gotta help her!

But by the time the two of them make it out, he realizes that it’s too late. Her memory was completely wiped. The sanitization doesn’t leave any physical effects on her except for her eyes - they turned turquoise. The same color as the sanitized ink.

The two of them needed to find a way to find cuttlefish and get out of this creepy place, so they kept moving. Pretty soon they made their way into a train station and found cuttlefish waiting for them there!! And there was also a weird telephone that told Olive she was the newest test subject - and that passing all these trials was the key to getting her memories back and getting to the “promised land.”

Reese just went along with it because he assumed that was what octolings called the surface. He wanted to be a test subject too so he could help Olive, but the phone rejected him. No inklings allowed!

She was forced to go through hundreds of rigorous tests. She wanted more than anything to get back her memories and reach paradise. As she regained more memories, she realizes how different her old life was from the kindness these inklings were showing her now (and the two people on the radio called Pearl and Marina!). It just propels her toward finishing the tests, pushing herself to her limit, doing it not just for herself but for all of them.

She forms a really deep bond with these inklings. Cuttlefish is like a grandfather to her. Reese makes her heart flutter in ways she doesn’t even understand.

As the tests go on, she regains muscle memories from her days as an elite solider. She’s good at fighting. Really good. But these tests are really hard. 8 knows she can do it, but they’re really, really hard. And all these bad memories aren’t helping.

Through blood, sweat, and tears, Olive finally collects the 4 thangs and they can finally go to the surface! She is so proud of herself and feels on top of the world. Cuttlefish and Olive take the thangs to the telephone and wait for Reese, who’s out exploring the metro (one of the things he does to take up time and secure their safety). But the telephone is telling them they gotta go NOW and they can’t wait for Reese!

Cuttlefish and Olive say nope, nope, not happening. So they are forced into the blender and AHH!! OH NO VERY BAD!! EVERYONE FLIPS OUT AND…!!!

Reese appears and THROWS HIMSELF at the blender. Surprisingly, it works. The three of them leave the telephone and super jump through the hole Reese made in the ceiling. They’re going to get to the surface themselves.

Somewhere around the 4th phase, they are ambushed by a group of sanitized octolings. Olive gets separated from Reese and Cuttlefish. She is forced to keep moving and hope that they have made it to the elevator before her.

They have, but not in the way she thought! When she sees Reese’s partial sanitation, she doesn’t want to hurt him and holds back, resulting in herself getting injured very badly. She realizes this isn’t the friend she knows, and manages to defeat three and rescue him from brainwashing.

Soon after that she also saves the whole world and defeats Tartar. PERRIOODDD!! #slaythehousedown #girlboss

Reese and Olive got into a relationship soon after the events of octo expansion. They help each other through all the trauma of what happened down there and are the bestest friends and love each other so so much! Yay!!

And Olive got a new family that she loves so so much. YAYYY!!

AS OF SPLATOON 3…EBERYONE IS DOING AMAZING!! YAY!! Agent 4 is Olive’s new bestie. Margot (New agent 3) is like the little sister she never had. She and Reese have moved in together. She still does regular missions for the NSS and treats it as a full time job. She’s so proud of Reese for becoming captain. She couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.

I still haven’t decided what really goes down during the events of side order - I didn’t love that it was all a simulation, so idk how I’d write around that. I’ll figure it out! But for now, Let’s just say it’s not very fun for Olive.

BUTTTTT after the events of side order, she regains all of her lost memories (she left a few behind in Kamabo) and rediscovers herself.

HOLY CANNOLI I wrote a lot. I think about Olive so much and I hope you guys love her as much as I do.

If you guys have any questions about them whatsoever, please PLEASE feel free to send over an ask! I love answering them!!

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR…I love u. Mwah!

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 2 months ago

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~ Shadows Of The Night |3| Mon Rêve

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Summary: It all began with a mistake that followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You crossed paths with the enigmatic Archdeacon of Notre-Dame, Father Jeon Jungkook, who promised to protect you from demons he couldn't fight. 15th Century, Paris. A lie. A stolen heartbeat and a confession that was never heard. He wanted you. You needed him. A secret turned into poison just as fate was cruel and it made him love you. Bounded by his vows and his position, Jungkook could only keep you as close as a dream at his reach. A cruel dream forged in a sanctuary of shadows and thorns.

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), angst, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), injury, blood, implied attack on oc, fainting, Jungkook prays, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.6k words

A/N: I know it has taken my like 3-4 months to write this part, I am so sorry, my darlings!!! I hope you will enjoy it and I will get back on track with my writing schedule. A lot has been going on in my life but I am finally settling back.

I finished my project successfully and I will present it on Thursday but it is practically finished and I will be going on a family holiday on Friday (a much needed mental break) and I hope I'll come back with lots and lots of inspiration. Take care, my darlings and enjoy the chapter.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments! You know I love to hear what you think of the chapter 🫶🫶🫶

Months passed, days that were too long and nights that were too slow and the passage of time felt like an eternity to Jungkook. The cold stone walls of the cathedral, once a place of solace and reverence, now seemed to close in on him. The weight of his devotion, the chains of his duties, had become suffocating in the absence of you. His prayers, once filled with fervent faith, now held your name, whispered desperately in the quiet hours of the night when no one else could hear.

Each day, he rose at dawn, his heart heavy with longing, hoping that perhaps today would be the day he saw you again. His steps through the cathedral were slower, his gaze always drifting toward the door, half-expecting you to walk through it with that same determined fire in your eyes. But you never came.

Every time he walked through the streets of Paris, he scanned the faces of the passersby, searching for a glimpse of your (h/c) hair, the sound of your anklet bells, or even the faintest echo of your voice. He asked discreet questions, careful not to arouse suspicion among the parishioners or his fellow clergymen, but no one seemed to know where you had gone. It was as if you had vanished into thin air, leaving only the memory of your haunting words and the amulet he kept close to his heart.

He tried to focus on his duties—on the sermons, on the confessions, on the endless prayers that filled his days��but your absence gnawed at him, a hollow ache that refused to heal. He could still feel the ghost of your wrist beneath his fingertips, the soft, fleeting touch that had ignited something dangerous within him. His dreams were plagued by visions of you, and when he woke, he was left with an unbearable emptiness.

The guilt ate away at him, too. How could he, a man sworn to serve God, allow himself to be consumed by thoughts of you? How could he forsake his vows for the sake of a Romani girl he barely knew? Yet, every time he questioned himself, his mind drifted back to the moment you looked into his eyes, the way your voice had trembled with fear and sorrow.

“I am a dead woman walking.”

Those words echoed endlessly in his mind. What did they mean? What had you been running from? And why did you fear dragging him into your darkness? He had no answers, only the certainty that he could not let this go. He needed to know. He needed to find you.

One evening, as Jungkook knelt before the altar, bathed in the dim glow of candlelight, he made a decision that would alter the course of his life forever. His fingers traced the edge of the silver bracelet you had left behind, his mind wrestling with the growing conflict in his heart. For months, he had fought it, tried to suppress the flame that had been lit the night he first laid eyes on you. But no longer. The fire had consumed him, burned away the facade of his holy devotion, and left only one undeniable truth: he would do anything to find you.

But he didn’t know where to look. He didn’t know where to even start. A helplessness gripped his heart with fierce claws, tearing at his sanity. There was nothing he could do despite the desire to give everything for you.

The flickering candle light illuminated his path as Jungkook climbed up the stairs that led up to his study. The walls around him were cold, the echoes of his footsteps being the only thing that he heard. Slow, calculated footsteps that carried him to his study.

Jungkook sighed as he entered the familiar place he often worked at. The large desk with piles of paperwork yet to complete seemed to mock him as he stared at them with disinterest. The wall behind his desk was filled with books, the pillars of the faith he had sworn to devote himself into but now those vows were tainted by the darkness of his thoughts.

The archdeacon ran a hand through his hair, his hand playing with the rosary he always carries with himself as his long fingers traced the beads made of wood. He walked toward the window that outsaw the courtyard, the very street before the grand cathedral was drowned by the shadows of the night, illuminated only by the silver spectre of the moon.

As Jungkook stared out into the night, the weight of the moon’s pale light seemed to press down on him, cold and unforgiving. The courtyard below, once a place of peaceful reflection, now felt distant and empty—a hollow shell that mirrored the void in his chest. His grip on the rosary tightened as if the wooden beads could somehow anchor him to the faith he was slowly losing grip on.

He looked down with a sigh, his dark eyes staring down at the rosary, remembering the countless prayers he had spoken in this very cathedral, in this very room. Those words were now hollow. A tightness in his chest, a thorn in his heart.

Jungkook looked up, his eyes narrowing as he saw something moving through the streets. He frowned, holding his breath in anticipation as the darkness made it seem as if whatever he had seen was a trick of his imagination But there it was again. The shadows dancing among the darkness. He saw someone, a person. They were running. He saw a dress. A woman. Sprinting to the cathedral. He saw movement behind her, more shadows he couldn’t count from here he stood. They were chasing her. And as soon as she stepped into the courtyard of Notre-Dame, the moon illuminated her hair, (h/c) in its nature.

“(y/n).”

Your name left his lips in a breath before he left his study, the rosary slipped from his fingers clattering to the floor and the beads spread across the ground. Some of them were lost forever but Jungkook didn’t look back, he was already out of the door and down the hallway, his long robes billowing behind him.

You were running. You ran with all your might. You didn’t dare look back. Your hands were fisting the skirts of your dress as you bolted through the streets of Paris. The cathedral loomed before you like a safe haven, its towering arches and intricate carvings lit by the soft glow of the moon. You could hear their footsteps behind you, the sound of boots pounding against the cobblestones, growing closer. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your legs ached from running, and your heart pounded in your chest with a rhythm that echoed your fear.

Notre-Dame was close now, so close. You just needed to reach the entrance—just a few more steps. You fisted your skirts tighter, pushing yourself to move faster, to escape the shadows chasing you. You had no other thought but to get to the safety of the church, where no one could touch you.

Where he would protect you.

You burst into the courtyard, the moonlight catching the strands of your hair as you stumbled toward the grand doors. The cathedral seemed to wrap around you like a fortress, the nave an infinite path ahead of you, its towering structure providing the sanctuary you so desperately sought. And standing in the centre of it all, just as you had imagined, was Jungkook.

He looked desperate, his eyes, normally holding such an unwavering faith were now filled with anguish as he made his way to you, nearly running. You didn’t stop, you couldn’t and you met him at the centre of the nave, under the big chandelier with a thousand candles above your heads. You ran toward him, your feet barely keeping pace with the desperation in your chest. The moment your body collided with his, his arms wrapped around you without hesitation, pulling you close, shielding you from everything and everyone that might come after you.

“(y/n)...”

“I-I claim Sanctuary.”

You managed to gasp out, clutching his robes as though they were the only thing keeping you from falling apart. Your chest heaved with exhaustion, your words a desperate plea that echoed in the cavernous space of the cathedral.

Jungkook tightened his grip around you, his tall frame towering over yours as he stood protectively before the altar. But just as he was going to take you further into the cathedral, the grand doors opened harshly and several men entered the sacred place with airs of violence. The archdeacon frowned, moving you so that you stood behind him as he faced whatever threat had forced you to seek safety in his domain.

“Give us the girl, priest.”

One of the men spoke, his voice rough, his complexion robust and tall and your hands fisted Jungkook’s robes from behind.

“This woman is under the protection of the Church.”

Jungkook spoke, his voice rang out, strong and commanding, addressing the men who had stormed into the courtyard behind you. His tone left no room for argument, and his eyes narrowed as he met the gaze of each of your pursuers.

“Any harm that comes to her will be seen as an affront to God Himself.”

The men exchanged uneasy glances, their hands twitching toward the hilts of their weapons, but they knew better than to challenge the church. The cathedral guards, alerted by the commotion, stepped forward, their armour gleaming in the dim light as they brandished their weapons. The men hesitated at the threshold, their eyes flicking nervously between each other and the guards stationed at the cathedral. The authority of the church was not something easily contested, and they knew it.

Slowly, one by one, they began to retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the night, though their presence left a bitter chill in the air. The tension dissipated, like fog in the morning.

Jungkook turned to look at you yet he frowned as he saw you trembling. Your hands fisted his dark robes and as you looked up at him, he noticed your eyes, those beautiful and expressive (e/c) eyes were wide with fear. Tears of panic formed in your lash line as you blinked up at the archdeacon that had defended you from harm.

“(y/n),”

A shuddering breath escaped your lips at the way he said your name. In that deep voice of his. With that authority he always carried. Yet the syllables of your name were tainted with underlying sentiment you couldn’t decipher even if you had wanted to.

“(y/n), you are safe. It’s over.”

But you shook your head. Your chest tightened and the tears spilled over. You were exhausted and scared. You bit your lip to try and stop the panic from taking over. Your breathing was erratic and you clung to him with desperation in your grip.

His large hands tightened where they rested on top of your shoulders, he didn’t know whether to pull you closer or push you away. This was becoming too much. His heart was seizing at the proximity, at the sheer physical contact with you.

You looked up at him once more, your eyes meeting his and he was stunned as he saw the fear swimming in your soul. Yet what really made his stomach drop was the glazed over way your eyes held his own.

“Jungkook.”

A simple whisper. The whisper of his name. Very few had ever spoken to him by his first name since he became the archdeacon. But you didn’t see him as the defender of Notre-Dame. You saw him as your protector.

He frowned down at you as your body slackened, his hold on you tightened before he took you fully into his arms, pressing you against his chest. One of his large hands rested on your waist while the other cupped the back of your head.

“You are safe. I promise.”

But you shook your head even as he whispered those words to your ear. Your body trembled against him, and he could feel the erratic rhythm of your breath hitching as you leaned into him.

“I… I can’t-”

You didn’t even finish your sentence as your knees buckled. His hold around you tightened before he lowered you to the ground as he held you firmly against him. That was when Jungkook saw it. Your dress, tattered and dirty, was stained with blood. Your blood. His calloused hand pressed against the wound, feeling the warm sticky liquid taint his palm and fingers.

“(y/n), (y/n)! Open your eyes!”

Jungkook’s voice echoed through the cathedral, cracking with a desperation that felt foreign to him. He cradled you against his chest, his strong arms trembling as they held your limp form. You were so still, too still, and the sight of your blood seeping into your tattered dress sent a cold wave of terror crashing through him.

You had sought sanctuary because you were at death’s door. Jungkook’s chest tightened with anguish as he held you, the weight of your limp body so light in his arms it felt wrong. He stared at your face, pale and drawn, framed by tangled strands of your hair. The world around him seemed to blur, reduced to the sound of your shallow breaths and the frantic pounding of his heart.

The sound of footsteps reached him and he looked up only to see Brother Antoine and Father Nicolas hurrying to his side. Their faces marred with worry and a tinge of curiosity as they approached the archdeacon.

“Whatever has happened here?”

Asked the latter, his voice carried a hint of horror. Jungkook looked down at you while pressing his palm firmer to your wound.

“She has sought Sanctuary in this Holy walls. Antoine, secure the cathedral. Do not let anybody other than the clergy to enter for the night. Nicolas, fetch the physician. Now.”

Jungkook gritted his teeth, feeling the blood seeping through his fingers, pooling on the ground in a crimson depiction of horror. Father above, have mercy. Spare her this pain, I beg you. If she is to be punished, let it fall upon me instead. And forgive me… Forgive me for loving her as I do.

Without thinking further, Jungkook lifted you into his arms as he stood to his full height. Your body was no weight to him, not even compared to the ache that filled his heart. Your (h/c) locks spilled over his arm as he held you securely against his chest.

“Venerable Father, where are you taking her?”

Asked Brother Antoine, his eyes wide as he saw the archdeacon handle you with such delicacy and tenderness. A sentiment that belied his usual stoicism.

“To my quarters. She is not to be disturbed.”

And with that, Jungkook walked away from the two men who later dispersed to fulfil his orders. His long strides ate up the distance as he crossed the nave and went to the private staircase that led to the upper rooms where only the clergy were allowed to enter.

Your dress rustled as he held you, he could feel the warmth of your blood seeping into his own dark robes and as he looked down at you, he felt as if his heartstrings were being pulled with cruelty. Your face was serene even in your unconscious state and you were as beautiful as ever. Not even death could ever take away your beauty. Not that he’d allow for your soul to be taken first.

As he walked through the darkened corridors with you held securely in his embrace, he muttered one last sentence to you before entering his room. A place only he was allowed to enter. Under the flickering candles and the colourful hues of moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows, Jungkook spoke only for your ears to hear.

“Mon Reve, why must you test me like this?”

December/02/2024

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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