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geographerdose · 2 years ago

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Amber Heard Rising Sign Guess Pt. 1:

🏜️I would prefer to do a part 2 to this now that I have some more concepts under my belt. The major public life event will come in handy. I cannot believe seven months have gone by since I wrote this. I am going to go through and update it.

I am not a certified astrologer but I am taking a traditional astrology course. This is for entertainment and learning purposes only.

Please do not copy or plagiarize my work. I’ve been procrastinating for years to get this out of my head, throw me a bone here. 🍖

Also please note that I use 🗣whole houses, traditional astrology style. Many of these observations are sign-based aspects due to the unpublicized birth time. I looked for fairly close conjunctions, squares, oppositions, etc. by paying attention to where the planets fell at the beginning/middle/ending of the signs. The planets don’t change THAT much over the course of a day but still that first house is critical to interpreting the rest of a chart.

🚀Pisces with ruler Jupiter in 1H —> powerful placement, someone that can make change happen. Generally likable and gregarious people. Jupiter is at its domicile in Pisces, however it’s benevolence is not at the top of its game in a night chart.

✨Venus is star of the show in a nocturnal chart, which is great for the Native as its in its domicile in Taurus. Venus makes a trine to her exalted Cap Mars, really firming up that standard classic physical beautiful.

☕️The sextile from Scorpio Pluto enhances, sex-ifies, mystifies and ultimately overwhelms; making her seem unattainable and thus INCREDIBLY desired. She’s almost feared for how beautiful she is. (Beauty carries a certain terror with it: the way in which it is this never-expiring, highly in-demand mode of currency, but the substance of which is fleeting in a forever-aging, changing reality? It gives an authoritative and threatening tone to something already so ethereal, something that can never be “proved” to even exist, unless it’s widely agreed upon by many.) We want what we can’t have and we’re terrified to lose it at the same time. Forever wanting, seeking.

💰2H is ruled by Mars which is exalted in the 11H despite the conjunction with Neptune. She is well known in the public (11H) as a sex symbol 💄and just incredibly beautiful person, albeit ☠️problematic behavior. The Neptune helps to color (beneficial due to her beauty) illusions around her reputation with groups. This can also be detrimental because with all that beauty and magnetism comes haters and jealous people who will only see and speak on the worst to cover their own insecurities.

📣We’re all human but gorgeous ones like her get away with a lot. I am simply pointing this out because it does not get said enough. -sincerely, an ugly person with an Aries mercury degree

🚨 NOT SAYING that mercury Aries degrees people are ugly but if they are they probably get in trouble for it, lmao. They can say sht that isn’t necessary, sht that can be hurtful, even if their intent is not to harm. Not thinking; loose lipped.

🌸Just saying that she has an Aries Mercury which can be impulsively speaking out of anger. We all know Aries is the petulant child of the zodiac and mercury rules thoughts/speaking/communication.

🌻The degree makes a difference is all I’m saying so others with mercury at 1 degree, 13 degree and 25 degree regardless of sign may struggle with it too.

💭Pure conjecture: The birth time is unpublicized due to 9H Scorpio Pluto influence. Since Pluto is in its domicile in Scorpio, this makes it a strong planet in a strictly quantitative way (quality over quantity) and plays out by being largely paranoid about such things related to 9H topics such as learning, or being the unintentional subject of others learning. (Sorry… I realize this makes me a hypocrite but maybe just the heart of a reporter to get the truth out.)

🦂Scorpio is a fixed sign trying to “fit” into constantly changing, mutable nature of the 9th place of learning, open-minded and expansive energy. This creates for paranoia, since the fixed home we seek is forever changing at a heated rate (fire influence with traditionally ruled Mars).

💭 I feel wherever Scorpio lies is where we are paranoid in. Ex.) 5H not wanting to share creative endeavors with others and being paranoid someone will steal them. They want attention but fear what that attention might bring:

🤡1️⃣ “No one cares about your work because you’re invisible and you have no friends, idiot.” VS. 🤺

🤡2️⃣”Exactly, I’m invisible so what if I write something brilliant and someone more popular comes along and just steals it from me?”

➡️Kind of vibe. Knowing a risk has to be taken to get ahead but being paranoid and wanting to hold onto the stability that exists. Scorpio energy —> unintentional (or intentional 🤫) calculation due to intense paranoia which leads to a confidence fueled by 📚 preparedness and thoroughness

💥 also with Pluto in the 5H: these people may work so hard at perfecting a work of art (writing included + all the quality time and patience for the edits) only to delete it all because they’re paranoid.

🟰😎Basically whatever house is ruled by Scorpio is where you take extra special care to not appear/be vulnerable in. Not wanting to share sexual encounters or put self out there for sex, can also be 5H Scorpio so cancer risings. (Millennial cancer risings to be exact since Pluto in Scorpio is a generational planet)

🐐Her 11H Cap Mars makes a square to her 8H Libra Moon 🌙 —> group dynamics/group standing or reputation can clash with sex/other peoples money. Mars is exalted in Capricorn, making for abundant physical attractiveness, as Mars is ultimately the planet of sex in its most primitive, carnal form. Squares are great for productive change, so I have read (and experienced). The trine from her domicile Venus in the 2H of finances has worked out in her favor in that wealthy men want to take care of her.

🏹Her 10H Sag Saturn makes a sextile to her 8H Libra Moon 🌙—> possibly this is her karmic “reward” equal (⚖️) to the behavior during/around Saturn return time (approximately 5 or so years ago, assuming most peoples SR end by 30.)

🪐Saturn takes its time to deliver harsh punishment but he is exact, calculating and always accurate. Albeit seemingly cruel and unforgiving, which maintains the fear threshold and thus his power.

⛴Mercury in Aries in the 2H ruling personal finances makes an opposition to her 8H moon of other peoples money, essentially meaning her 👄 🔥 angry mouth gets her in trouble. She is impulsive and quick to anger thanks to the Aries mercury. (No judgment, cause same.) Pointing out where this tension lies, in the axis of money, is where it will and has affected her.

🔼The Saturn-Mercury trine also speaks to this possible being a karma-related thing which I’ve read titles and a couple good articles from other authors regarding the karma of her and Depp’s charts. And she is right around the age to where Saturn can strike so to speak. That’s the thing with him: he is so long-lasting and ever-present, that he can strike at any moment, again feeding the fear and maintaining power.

🥷The 12H of hidden enemies is ruled by Saturn which falls in her 10h of career. It is present with the modern ruler of Aquarius: Uranus, the planet of unexpected change. This spells out trouble and enemies in regards to career-like arenas and connections.

💰 Her 8H Libra moon opposes her 2H Aries mercury. Libra moon wants to have balanced partnerships at a core level but impatient, temperable mars-ruled impulsive mercury steps in. She often says things she doesn’t mean out of anger. And this affects her finances, both her own and in regards to others peoples finances (and how it affects hers).

💭 At the very least, her true thoughts do NOT equal what she speaks.

🪞Her 10H is ruled by Sag, the ruler of which falls in her 1H again, signaling being known for her appearance. In this case, she is widely known as being incredibly beautiful.

🏋🏻Sign based Saturn square Jupiter —> a lot of people with Jupiter in 1H can struggle with weight since Jupiter expands whatever it touches but I believe this is reined in by the Saturn influence, even if it’s a harsh aspect. Squares are thought to be very effective in goading effective and necessary changes. Uranus is also close by Saturn in her 10H of Sag which signals possibly sudden unexpected changes, particularly after a Saturn return. Obviously she doesn’t struggle with her weight and has always maintained a flawless figure.

🤡(Just because we already know how this plays out so hindsight is 20/20 plus it’s easy to look at a public figures life much easier than your own and be effective and objective about it.)

💰Interesting that her 8H of other peoples money is ruled by Venus, which falls in her 3H of communication because Venus it’s at its domicile in Taurus, giving her that beauty, and it’s tied into other peoples money. This can be shown she can gain monetary gain due to her good looks. It wasn’t just Johnny Depp but Elon freaking Musk, one of the wealthiest men in the world.

🚨There’s a square between her 2H mercury and her 11H cap mars. This creates tension for sure because her house of relationships 7H is ruled by mercury. Which lies in a challenging aspect with the god of war and also non coincidentally another earth sign aka stubborn city.

🏡4H is also ruled by mercury which is being maltreated by mars but this is mitigated by the fact that the sun is below the horizon making it a night chart and the malefic who does the most harm at night is Saturn. I believe this ultimately points to her becoming successful and finding strength out of her very rough upbringing (4H Chiron: deepest wounding happened at home, during childhood. Very sad and seriously traumatic.)

#astro placements #astro notes #zodiac #Pisces #Pisces rising #rising sign #whole house #scorpio #Scorpio in the houses #astrology aspects

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lacheri · 4 years ago

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streets

pairing: dom!Levi x stripper!fem bodied reader

content: modern au, sex work (stripping), degradation, hint of praise kink, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, slapping, dom/sub themes, Levi's a whole freak in the sheets, also mf has a split personality, minors DNI

summary: erwin drags his lonely best friend, levi, out to a strip club.

wc: 7.7k

Violent vibrations of bass shook through your platform teasers, one leg moving tantalizingly slow in front of the other as neon lights flashed around you. The silver pole loomed in front of you, your hips swaying as you strutted across the stage. You could feel the intense stare of eyes belonging to strangers as you finally wrapped your fingers one by one around the cold metal, circling so slowly around it, pushing your ass and chest out on display. You flicked your eyes up, heavy from false eyelashes, and searched around you.

Some familiar faces, most new, met your gaze as the club’s lights lit up in a dark red. They were all focused on you, sitting forward patiently in their plush seats, waiting to devour your body with their eyes. You leaned your back against the pole, looking down at your body. You were glad you had worn your favorite set of dancing gear, a see-through black mesh bralette and a matching set of panties, and of course, your six inch sparkly pleaser heels. It was simple, yet so effective when it came to the stuffed wallets of your onlookers.

There was one man in the sea of others who caught your attention tonight though. He sat directly in the center, his expression seemingly unamused and unentertained. You wanted to roll your eyes, discarding yourself of this fantasy you were presenting on stage. You resisted the urge, instead, turning your head in the opposite direction, and rolled your torso until you sat crouched. You leaned forward, head turned straight now, ass sticking right up in the air as the tops of your breasts squished against the stage. You used the leverage from your knees to shake your exposed ass cheeks, watching the raven haired man bring his hand to his face, stroking along his jaw as he took in the sight of you.

You parted your legs slowly, bringing a knee in front of the other, crawling towards the edge of the stage. You pushed yourself up from your elbows until you were in an upright position, allowing your hips to sink forward as you continued to roll your body to the beat. Still, no reaction, or sign that he was going to throw money on you, you scoffed internally and turned your attention to the blonde gentleman sitting closely next to him, a wad of dollar bills crushing in his grip. You smirked mischievously, leaning backwards until you felt the cold metal brush against your back. Flattening out, you brought your legs up, shaking them high in the air to allow your ass and thighs to move in rhythm. You felt the air brush past you as bills went flying in the air, and you smiled in euphoria. Money was your love language, and anyone who threw bills at your half naked form became your lover for however long your dance lasted.

You placed your feet on solid ground, leveraging yourself upwards to a full stand, turning around sauntering back to the pole. You wrapped a lone leg around the cold cylinder, elongated from your heels, and jumped into a spin. Your hands gripped high above you, dangling your head back as you swung in a pretty circle, your other leg posed straight down. Once you had found this balance, you let your right hand leave the stability of the pole, running it down the front of your body, over the swell of your breasts and the flat of your stomach, stopping right before you met your center. You slid downwards until both your feet met the stage floor as you crouched once more, popping your ass out to move the muscles one at a time of your cheeks. You glanced backwards, and you were pleased to see the dark haired man’s cold steel eyes locked in on your body.

He was very handsome, as was his blonde friend. Your best guess was that they were in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. You watched the ravenette reached in his pocket, almost in disgust as he pulled out single bills. You couldn’t see the dollar amount from your angle, so you maneuvered back onto your knees to give all your attention to the man in front of you. You tried the same move as before, crawling on all fours as seductively as you could, this time your knuckles wrapped around the very edge of the stage. You learned forward, a couple of feet away from the man as his expression darkened. As if you were a gravitational pull, he leaned forward as well, only a few inches away. Close enough to reach out and touch him, your thumb and pointer finger met the collar of his white button up, softly trailing the fabric. At the same time you reached out, he was doing the same, tucking the small stack of cash in between the valley of your breasts, managing to not touch any of your exposed skin as he did so.

Thinking about your other awaiting customers, you quickly withdrew your teasing, a smirk laced on your lips. You blew the man a kiss, winking, crawling backwards on the stage.

Your onlookers ravaged your body with their eyes as you continued your dance. Your chest was rising rapidly, out of breath as you did your final spin on the pole. You ended your dance in a slow split, toes pointed and curled as you felt your clothed pussy meet the now warmed material of the stage under you. You pulled yourself up after an explosion of cash was tossed on stage, flashing a seductive smile before retreating behind the curtain to the back of the stage. You’d have one of the security guys clean your cash up before the next girl walked on, knowing they’d get a small cut from doing you the favor.

You relaxed your body into a chair in the dressing room, sighing loudly. The room was empty, makeup and costumes littered about the mirror space as all the girls working were either out on the floor or giving out private dances. You just needed the quick break, you had danced pretty hard out there. You were debating switching outfits, as this one was a little too revealing for casually strolling on the floor.

You shrugged, getting up to get into your locker space, retrieving a cropped leather jacket, chains dangling around the body, brushing against your exposed skin and as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. This would at least give you the illusion that you were covered up much more than what you had believed.

Powdering your shiny face before you exited, you breathed in deeply as neon lights greeted you once again on the club floor. You worked at a pristine strip club, ratings high and prices even higher. There was a twenty dollar fee to even get in the place, and when you finally got in the door, the bouncers up front would make a copy of your driver’s license, just in case you fucked up somehow and they needed to add to you the banned list. Which was a pretty long list, hence the photo copies.

The dancers were high quality as well, all different shapes and sizes and ethnicities. It was almost like a buffet, you could get whatever you desired, just had to go out and look first. Everyone working the shifts danced, absolutely no exception. Of course, you’d want to dance though, making exceptionally more money than on the shifts where you’d stick behind the bar crafting drinks. If you were asked by one of your friends how much money you’d make on a night like this, you’d feel guilty as you would humbly lie, not wanting to entice them into auditioning at your place of employment. When the club was at full capacity, as it was right now as you sashayed to the bar, you could easily walk home with a couple grand. This job paid your bills, bought you pretty things, put food in your belly, it meant everything to you.

“Hey, Annie! Gin and tonic, pretty please,” you batted your thick eyelashes at your favorite blonde bartender.

She only nodded, shooting a desperate plea between you and the overcrowded area of the bar area with her eyes. You snickered, feeling her pain all too well, having spent many a night behind the counter, non-stop pouring drinks. Annie slid your drink over as quickly as she could, being stolen away by an already drunken man requesting a round of shots before you could hold a conversation with her. You shrugged, taking large gulps of your glass. You were parched from your dance, alcohol quenching your thirst. You hadn’t realized you downed your cocktail until you felt the clink of ice hit the front of your teeth. You left the empty glass at the bar, turning around and leaning against the counter as you planned out your next moves.

“You should dance to Doja Cat more often,” you heard a familiar voice hum next to you, looking up into the eyes of your security guard, Connie. A black bag you knew was full of your cash was held in his grip, a playful smile on his lips, “Took me like ten whole minutes to clean this up off the stage.”

You laughed lightly along with Connie, “What would I do without you? Could you put that in my locker for me, babe? I just left the dressing room.”

“‘S gonna’ cost you,” he joked, already leaving your form to follow your request. “You owe me a round of tequila shots, Patrón!”

Connie disappeared in the sea of bodies before you could call out a remark. You sighed, flopping your head onto your shoulder, eyeing back the gazes from different men who took in your relaxed body. None of them piqued your interest, and you found yourself feeling quite lonely in the middle of the club.

This was the last place on Earth Levi had pictured himself in. When Erwin had grabbed Levi’s arm, tugging him out of his home office, a strip club was the very last place Levi could’ve fathomed ending up in.

“You, my friend, are going to have a good fucking night!” Levi recalled his blonde friend shouting at him, tossing the much smaller man into Erwin’s passenger seat of his truck. Levi had only grumbled, disappointed his hot cup of tea would become cold in his absence, the novel he had been reading left disheveled on his desk. When Erwin had pulled into a parking lot, Levi finally had taken notice of their destination.

“What the fuck are we doing at a strip club?” he spat through clenched teeth, a migraine coming on.

“Attempting to get you laid,” Erwin smirked, sliding out from the driver’s seat. Levi had no choice but to follow, Erwin not giving him even a moment to try and talk his way into heading back home.

“Why?” Levi was seething, blood pumping loudly in his ears. Why did Erwin care about Levi’s state of his love life, or lack thereof?

“Levi,” Erwin paused, sighing before the entrance. “I’ve known you since sophomore year of college, that was almost six years ago, and that entire time I’ve seen you go out on one date. You didn’t even see the girl again after it either!”

“She was boring,” Levi defended, his eyebrows furrowing. “Most people are boring. Why waste my time?”

“Because, some people are worth it. I forced you to be my friend, and look at us now!”

“You’re not an idiot,” the corner of Levi’s lips lifted.

“I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Erwin chuckled, tone sarcastic. It was true though, Levi would’ve never allowed Erwin to try and befriend him all those years ago if he had been a total lost cause. Erwin was smart though, driven and ambitious. He worked hard and never slacked off, traits Levi deeply admired. “C’mon, what’s the harm in having a bit of fun?”

There was a lot of harm, turns out. Levi was caught completely off guard by how nice this club was, bouncers all over the pristine premise. He visibly relaxed at this point, his inner germaphobe sated. Though he did use hand sanitizer generously before sitting down on the plush chair in front of the stage, Erwin chatting in his ear over how beautiful the dancers were here. Levi half listened, more interested in his glass of whiskey than his best friend. He downed it easily, almost like he was drinking water. Then the lights dropped, and you had walked out.

With all his might, Levi tried to act like he wasn’t enticed, not wanting to bring Erwin any satisfaction. It was true, Levi’s love life was basically nonexistent. Only having sex with maybe three girls in his lifetime, it had been awhile to say the least since he had seen a beautiful woman in this state of undress. When you had leaned down, breasts pressing so sinfully against the stage, crawling towards him all on fours, a primal urge rippled through Levi’s body. Like you were daring him to act out, to cave in entirely to your will.

He felt a piece of himself missing when you exited the stage, but the room felt lighter, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Erwin was in a similar frame of mind, shooting Levi a knowing look.

“Well, what’d you think?” Erwin leaned towards his friend, a small smile on his face.

“I think that’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” Levi groaned, uncomfortable admitting this, rubbing his hands across his face.

“You should pay her for a dance, I know I’m definitely going to get one later,” Erwin’s eyes followed a thick dark skinned woman, swaying her hips, winking at Erwin as she walked past. He pushed up off his chair then, “Actually, hold that thought.”

The absence of his friend so suddenly had left Levi feeling awkward and out of place. His lips held an amused scowl as he watched Erwin confidently approach the woman, her luscious lips twisting into a smile of her own as she grabbed his hand, and led him away from Levi’s view. The ravenette stood then, empty glass in tow, and decided that he would need another drink to get through the rest of the night.

That’s when Levi had seen you, leaning so casually against the marble countertops of the bar as if you had owned the place. Your eyes drooping in disinterest, too cool to associate with the crowd around you. You didn’t even seem to notice various men eyeing your form, talking amongst each other, never breaking their focus from you. And Levi had to admit, you did look so fucking cool. The realization that Levi himself had joined the crowd of your many onlookers startled him, beginning to feel embarrassment and guilt for admiring you almost as if you were an object. When your eyes had met his though, and a pretty smile changed your entire expression, any and all thoughts and feelings rocketed out of Levi’s mind.

He felt his feet move towards you before he could think thoroughly. You stayed, still and collected, eyes never breaking from his. As his strides graced closer and closer, Levi broke the connection from you, stopping to your side and calling out an order to a blonde bartender, ignoring you entirely.

Your shock rang through you like a gong, deep and humbling. This wasn’t what you had predicted in those fleeting seconds when you had seen the raven haired man making intentful strides to you. He was close enough to your body that you could hear the soft cotton of his white button up brush against the thick fabric of your leather jacket, and you felt licks of insecurity, a rare emotion for you.

“What? Shocked I’m not down on my knees begging for you?” Levi couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips, noticing from the corner of his eye that you had stiffened dramatically.

You whipped your head to see him, to see his stupid expression as you were sure this man thought he was God’s gift to mankind. You knew this personality well, a common one with your clients believing that because you were after their money, you were technically working for them. To your surprise, you were met with the man’s steel grey eyes hard set in disinterest.

“No one’s going to give you a dance with that attitude, sir,” you huffed, clawing mentally to keep your cool. “Keep it up and watch how fast we get you kicked out.”

This man, a complete stranger to you, only ‘tsk’ed, digging in his black slacks to pull out his thick wallet, “I’ll pay you a grand if you take me back for a dance right now.”

Oh shit, you blinked, trying to process his offer. That’s a lot of fucking money.

“You have a funny way of showing that you like me,” you quirked an eyebrow, debating internally. “What’s the catch? What’s your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Your kink, your game, what’re playing at?”

“I’m not going to pay you to stand there and talk to me about what I like in privacy,” Levi scoffed, slightly embarrassed at the very public conversation that he believed was always meant to be in private.

“Fine,” your hand shot out, circling around his bicep, his strong bicep. “Let’s go, sir.”

Honestly the pet name was a shot in the dark, your best guess at what could possibly please this very attractive client. His moody attitude was throwing you off of your very whimsical and flirty facade, parts of your real personality peeking through the cracks. You didn’t know that Levi was actually enjoying this interaction, feeling flutters of admiration at your sharp tongue and quick mindedness.

You guided him to the back of the club, a bouncer stationed outside of a hallway. You nodded to the burly man, and he stepped aside and allowed the two of you to enter the hallway of doors. Numbers gold plated on each wooden door led the way, and Levi was starting to feel flickers of impatience.

The feelings settle once you unlock a door, pushing it open and Levi gazing inside. A plush leather couch sat in the center of the small room, LED lights flashing different colors slowly along the ceiling, and you guided him to sit down. His face was passive, and had you known the man’s thoughts in that moment, you’d know that Levi was unbelievably nervous. While he had the help of the liquid courage provided by his whiskey neats, Levi was incredibly inexperienced when it came to beautiful women, more specifically, you.

“What’s your name, love?” you cooed, hand trailing over his bicep as you placed yourself next to the ravenette, taking in his stiffened form.

“Levi,” he managed to choke out, feeling the deep stir of arousal from your simple touch. How could he not be attracted to you? The way you pressed yourself to his side, so tempting, you were an enchantress.

You mumbled out your stripper name, and Levi felt a pang of unease knowing that the ridiculous chosen name was not your real one. Your fingers trailed electricity over his clothes, the pads of your digits playing with the end of his sleeve. You leaned further in, breathing right against the shell of his ear.

“Ready for your dance, Levi?”

Levi gulped, raising a hand to push back his fringe from his face as you stood before him. His hands finally settled atop his thighs, legs comfortably opened and spread as he took a deep breath in, willing his mind and body to relax. Like Erwin had said, what’s the harm in having a little fun?

Goosebumps raised on Levi’s skin as the smooth bass of a somewhat familiar song kicked in. He had heard it on the radio once or twice, finding it quite catchy and therefore had never felt the need to change the station. His heart hammered in his ribcage, mouth drying as he watched you shift into character. A very fitting one, he thought to himself, a total and complete vixen.

Your back arched as you posed before him. His eyes drinking you in hungrily lit a flame deep within the depths of your soul, feeling the dire need to please the man in front of you. You bent down, tips of your fingers brushing against your toes, and then you threw your head back, hair falling seductively around you at the force. Levi was cursing profanities in his mind, a very verbal ‘fuck’ exiting his lips at the sight.

You turned your back to your handsome client, giving him a full view of your scantily clad ass as you teasingly slid your arms out of your jacket. Levi’s eyes followed every move, afraid to miss a single thing, every detail of you and your body becoming his biggest priority. Your leather jacket fell to the floor noisily, chains clanking as they hit the wooden planks. You threw a longing gaze over your shoulder, a pretty smirk on your face, and Levi had the startling realization that he had never felt a stronger attraction to a woman in his life. In fact, the intrusive thought had his mind traversing through past experiences, and had him wondering if had truly ever felt the tingling of arousal that you had awakened in him.

“Levi?” you brought your fingers under his chin to his surprise, angling his gaze to meet your curious expression.

“I’m alright, just,” Levi paused, letting his focus drift away from you. “This is my first time.”

Your face softened at his confession, genuine concern as you spoke, “‘S okay, just let me know if you want to stop at any point. And if there’s anything at all you want me to do, tell me.”

Levi was mildly stumped at the second half of your response. He could make requests of you, of this dance? The last thing he wanted in the world was for you to stop, in fact he never wanted this moment to end as you resumed your routine, eyes never leaving his.

Levi felt the blood rush to his lower half as you positioned yourself on the balls of your feet, leaning over his seated deposition, ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear, “You know, you’re quite handsome. You probably get that all the time, but truly, you are.”

“Thank you,” Levi managed to mumble, thoroughly embarrassed by the heat of your compliment. “You’re very pretty.”

You smirked, pushing yourself back to take in his shy appearance. You had a hunch that maybe if you provided Levi the confidence he needed, this hesitance would melt away. With that in mind, you turned your body once more, hands reaching behind you to undo the clasp of your lacy bra. Levi’s eyes widened, his fingers twitching in anticipation. When the material was released, you let out a silent sigh of relief from the pressure of the tight material. Your mesh top fell off your arms, you gently flicked it to join your jacket on the floor. Instead of showing your freed breasts to your handsome client, you bent down to your toes once more, shaking your ass and thighs. Levi’s eyes were ready to roll out of his skull.

You finally did turn, crouching between the space in between his thighs. Your hands slid from the bottom of his shins to the top of his thick thighs, you felt the subtle flex of his muscles as he tensed. His lustful expression showed you that Levi was less than hesitant, actually he was really enjoying himself now. This was his private show, and Levi was feeling extraordinarily special. He didn’t dare to raise his touch to grace your exposed skin though, not wanting to risk breaking any rules.

Your knees heaved you up once more, and you moved to straddle the raven haired man’s lap. You felt the hump of his erection between your thighs, and you bit back a moan at the sensation. Levi was in a similar frame of mind, trying not to let his bodily instincts and desires take over entirely. You rolled your hips, teasing his clothed length, and his grasp on control was nearly lost. Your naked breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardened from your excitement. By no means were you the kind of girl to sleep with your clients or even entertain the thought, but when Levi’s lids fluttered and he bit the inside of his lip, you were rethinking every morally right ideal you held within yourself.

On par with the beat of the song, you leaned back, hands on his knees, and thrust your hips lazily in rhythm. Levi watched your ribcage expand and disappear under your naked torso, your navel shrinking and opening at the rolling motion. You flicked your hair behind your shoulder blades, your lips parted, and you let out a shaky breath. You were flushed against his hardened member, you could feel your center weeping at the contact. This was not your intention, to rub yourself all over this stranger, but the way his hands twitched and his eyes were so hungry had you feeling things you only indulged in by yourself, in the comfort of your bed and with your favorite pink vibrator.

“Make it fifteen hundred, and I’ll let you take me back to your place,” you mewled against your better judgement.

Levi’s concentration was broken, the whites of his eyes exposed as he shot his attention to your face. His lips contorted into an egotistical smirk, a contrast to his past shyness, “We haven’t even been in this room for five minutes, and you’re already wanting to leave?”

“Two grand,” your eyebrows furrowed, pushing your hips into his pelvis, satisfied when you heard a hiss leave his lips. “Keep teasing, and my price goes higher.”

“I’ll pay you whatever I want,” Levi’s features darkened. “Get your things. I want you to finish your dance when we get back to my house.”

You never did complete that dance. Levi was gripping your thighs and lifting you before you could even protest, your back slamming into the wall after he had unlocked his front door. His lips were all over you, your lips, your neck, your exposed collarbones. Your fingers were woven into his scalp, clinging desperately to the man.

He could barely contain himself on the drive home, seated palming your thighs in the back seat of a taxi. He had sent a quick text to Erwin, not explaining much but letting him know he’d talk to him tomorrow. Erwin hadn’t responded, not that Levi cared, but he had a feeling his blonde friend was in a very similar situation.

“You,” Levi growled into your neck, sliding his hands greedily under the t-shirt you had thrown on in the locker room of the club, “Are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

His teeth sunk where he could feel your pulse the strongest under his lips, and you wantonly moaned out. Although Levi lived a generically organized lifestyle, in this moment all he craved was chaos. He wanted to see your perfect body littered in his marks, his bites and bruises. He wanted to wreck you, bring you out of your nonchalant attitude, stupefying you. Levi was going to fucking break you in all the best ways.

“Levi,” you breathed shakily. “Please, bedroom.”

Levi rammed his clothed hips into the center of your spread legs, your ankles hooked around his waist in this position. You gasped, moaning at the contact. Your nails raked up his back, and you felt a similar urgency as he was feeling, wanting to feel the tear of his skin underneath your fingernails. You felt Levi’s hands grip your thighs to adjust his grip, and soon he was carrying you into the unfamiliar territory of his home. He guided you easily up his staircase, reaching his opened bedroom door and unceremoniously throwing you on your back on his mattress.

Levi was on top of you in an instant, his lips swallowing yours as he grabbed the collar of your shirt with both his hands. He fisted the material, and with a quick fluid motion, he tore the fabric in half. You were shocked, but figured you could easily borrow Levi’s clothing upon your exit. You didn’t stop him as he treated your bra in a similar fashion, thankfully not ripping the expensive lace. He reached under the arch of your back, unclasping it, and you pulled your arms through the straps and the remnants of your poor shirt. Your breasts were on full display for his eyes now, and Levi’s mouth pulled away from you. His hands snaked up your exposed torso, thumbs rolling past your hardened nipples to your neck.

Levi wrapped his right hand around your neck, and your breath hitched in your throat as he mumbled, “You like it rough, don’t you, brat? Want me to use your body however I want?”

You didn’t answer, wanting to seek punishment. His fingers tightened, and you felt a gush of arousal slicken your lower lips. Your hips bucked upwards, eyes pleading as you watched a sick satisfaction cross his expression.

“Answer me,” he spat venomously, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered out, feeling the tips of your ears redden. You were so turned on right now, body responding loudly to every word and touch.

“Good girl,” he praised, not releasing his grip around your neck. His left hand stayed at your breast, tweaking your right nipple roughly, rolling the beaded skin between his forefinger and thumb.

You whimpered, bringing your own hands to rest above your head, stretching your skin more for Levi. His eyes were honed in on your face, all your desperate expressions as his hand left your chest and dipped under the elastic of your grey cotton shorts to meet the lace trim of your panties. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as you panted. When you tried to reach up to capture his soft lips in a kiss, he only squeezed tighter around your neck, discouraging you from trying again. He wanted to watch you squirm, memorize the way your eyes would flicker and your lips would quiver at his touch. His fingers tugged the cotton of your panties aside, and ran two digits across your folds, the pads soaked at the contact.

He circled your clit agonizingly slow, spreading your essence over your hood. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, back arching up to feel some kind of skin to skin contact. Levi was not going to allow this though, and ripped his touch away from your cunt. You whined at the loss, tears pricking on the edge of your lash line. You yelped suddenly when you felt the harsh slap of his palm against your folds. Levi’s gaze was hardened, lips almost pulled back in a sneer.

“Stop, or you’re not getting what you want,” he growled, and even though he was hovering over you, you could swear you felt the vibration from his chest deep in your bones.

You meekly nodded, willing your body to lay there as still as you could be. He smoothed his palm over the reddened area of your center, and his soft, teasing touch returned. His middle and pointer finger spread your lips open, ring and pinky finger kept your panties tucked to the side. Levi tucked his digits inbetween your heat, caressing your folds. It took everything in your resolve to not buck your hips at the feeling of the roll of your clit in between the pads of his fingers. You whined, blinking tears away rapidly.

Levi felt merciful for a moment, and fled his intimate touch down to your fluttering entrance. You could feel your muscles clenching in anticipation, letting out a moan of relief as he dipped the two extremities into your tight hole.

“You’re so wet, all because of me?” Levi teased, brushing his lips against yours. “Such a good slut, you’ve wanted me to touch you since you got on that stage tonight, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you panted sharply, his fingers curled inside your walls and began to pump. “Wanted your attention so bad.”

“Like I had a choice,” he chuckled without humor, flicking his wrist hard into your core. “You came out looking like that, what was I supposed to do? This, you on your back, so needy, this was the only conclusion.”

He fucked his hand harshly into your sopping cunt at the end of his sentence, sending your mind reeling and your lungs gasping for air. Your plush walls encapsulated his fingers, you could feel the ridges of his knuckles deep inside of you. His finger pads prodded your sensitive spongy spot, and upon hearing your deep groan of pleasure, Levi aimed for that destination with every thrust.

“Feels so good,” you praised, your knuckles white from gripping the pillows above you. Levi still had his right fist around your throat, he could feel your esophagus tighten as every muscle in your body clenched.

With a hasty release, his right hand came down to pay your heaving breasts attention. His lips replaced his fingers, sucking harshly on the most sensitive parts of your throat. You were almost screaming as he plunged in and out of your pussy, your left nipple harshly being pulled with his other hand, his teeth sinking into your neck. Your clit was throbbing with need, your coil in your stomach desperately searching for any form of release.

“Levi,” you cried out loudly. “Wanna’ cum.”

“Are you asking or telling me?” he grumbled against the column on your neck.

“Asking, please, need you to touch my clit,” you begged, too far gone to care about vulgarity, clearing noting the ravenette’s disregard for formality in the heat of the moment.

He let out a ‘tch’ at the nape of your neck, and pulled his fingers from your dripping heat, “You’re not cumming unless it’s around my cock.”

With his soaked hand, he tore your shorts and panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You lifted your legs, allowing Levi to slide them down the rest of the way and throw them onto the floor. Stark naked and exposed completely to the man now, your knees bent in the air, Levi slapped the backs of your thighs. You whimpered, clenching around nothing upon impact. He let out a groan, tugging his button up over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Your hands left the safety of the pillows above your head, fumbling with the belt that rested on his hips. He met your hands, finishing the job for you. Belt unbuckled, slacks unzipped and freed, he stood quickly, shoving the pants and his briefs to the floor.

You jaw slacked in amazement at the sheer size of his cock. Levi was hung, his member standing tall and proud and mouth watering. He returned to you in an instant, positioning his lower half to align with your spread center. His dick throbbed at the wet contact of your vulva, teasing the head against your clit. You threw your head back, arching your back and angling your hips to allow Levi better leverage. His fist flew to the base of his aching length, roughly fucking himself above you. You could feel the tightness of his knuckles as he brushed against you, and you moaned out his name.

“Such a needy little slut,” Levi degraded you, face set in false anger. “Desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” your eyes screwed shut, you could feel the pounding in your pussy. “Want you so fucking bad. Please fuck me.”

“Please, what?” he cocked an eyebrow, letting out a groan as his thumb pressed into the underside of his head.

“Please, sir,” you begged as a tear fell down your cheek.

“All you had to do was ask, gorgeous,” he chuckled darkly, sinking the tip into your tight little hole.

You thought he would enter you slowly to allow you to adjust to his enormous girth, you were sadly mistaken though as he plunged his entire length deep inside of your soaking pussy. You let out a strangled whimper, more tears rolling down to your chin. Levi wouldn’t give you the pleasure of patience, pulling out just enough to threaten his head falling out, snapping his hips right back until he brushed your cervix.

“Fuck,” Levi moaned loudly, his hands circling the tops of your thighs, throwing your ankles over his shoulders. “Feels so fucking good.”

All you could do was fist the bedsheets under you as he took you violently. Sobs of pleasure racked through your chest, tits bouncing at the sheer force of his thunderous thrusts. The sounds of your cunt squelching around his intrusion was deafening accompanied by the smack of the skin of his balls hitting your ass. Levi pounded mercilessly into your heat, searching for his own heights before addressing yours. Of course he wouldn’t cum before you did, but the way your pussy fluttered around him gave him clear signs that it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.

Levi let out an animalistic growl as his pace quickened, slapping the meat of your thighs as his grip adjusted your knees to your chest. He leaned forward, and in the dim lighting you could see the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His steel colored eyes were locked in with yours, lips parted as he breathed heavily from exertion. Levi could feel the burn in his hips as he gave you everything he could, fucking you as hard and as fast as he could.

You were nearly screaming, unable to bite back any noises at his assault. You felt his fingers slither around your neck once more, tightening dangerously around your windpipe. He could feel the collection of your tears in the dip of your throat, and his cock was throbbing at the sensation.

“Crying ‘cause it feels so good, aren’t you?” Levi snarled, placing his sweaty forehead to yours. When you didn’t answer, he released your throat to bring his wet palm in a roaring slap to your cheek, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you screamed at the tops of your lungs, your cunt contracting at the stinging pain turned pleasure. “Please, please, please, let me cum!”

Levi barked out a groan as he felt your plush walls tighten, making his hips stutter in his rhythm. His free hand came down to your clit, slapping the top of your pussy with no real force. His thumb commenced its own pattern then, rubbing the engorged bud with vigorous intention. Levi plowed briskly, his climax on the horizon. You were quivering under him, fat tears leaking from your eyes as hiccups and whines left your throat. You could feel the soreness in your hole, and knew the second you came, you’d be squeezing the ever loving fuck out of Levi’s massive cock.

“So close,” you sniffled, vocals raw from the pressure of Levi’s fist clenched around your esophagus.

“Gonna’ cum all over me, pretty girl? Yeah, fuck, c’mon, my little fucking slut,” Levi’s eyes were smoldering, veins prominent in his neck as he approached his own release.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” your eyes attempted to close.

Levi slapped your cheek, “Keep your fucking eyes open, bitch. Don’t look away, wanna’ watch you.”

You nodded meekly, the build up in your stomach at its peak. His thumb circled faster, and you could feel every single motion in your pussy as he slammed his fat tip against your g-spot. It was too much, too intense, and you felt your coil snap as you clenched viciously around him.

With a loud gasp of air, not enough due to Levi’s fingers digging into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips. Your vision blurred over in thick tears, your skin was burning hot as Levi cursed above you. Your pussy contracted around him in a mind blowing flow, pleasure seeping in every pore and every cell in your body. If Levi had neighbors, or roommates, the noises you were making would be entirely concerning, sounding as if something gruesome was occurring in his home.

Levi was pushed out of your cunt from the pressure, and he dared not to slip back in your contracting hole out of fear of dumping his seed deep in your womb. He pushed your legs flat down after removing his touch from your clit, positioning his hips over yours as he fucked his fist at the same rapid pace he was drilling into your center. Loud moans escaped his parted lips, pistoning his pelvis with a death grip on his red swollen cock. Thick ropes of cum shot across your breasts, his thrusts never slowing.

You pushed your breasts together with your hands, fingers toying at your nipples to visually stimulate the man above you. He growled at the sight, “So fucking hot, yeah, take my fucking cum.”

He stilled, head thrown back as he let his girth fall from his grip, his cum oozing from his slit. You moaned at the sight, your mouth watering. Had you not been in such a hurry from the start, you would’ve gladly swallowed his cock down your throat, consuming every drop of his load. Maybe another time, if there would be one, you thought.

Your orgasms simultaneously slowed, until the two of you heaved heavily from the hard labor of the vigours fucking that had just occured. Levi moved off of you, grabbing tissues from his bedside table, and wiped up your torso. Before he could collect all of his cum though, you let a finger dip into a puddle in between your breasts, Levi’s eyes watching adamantly as you placed the digit on your tongue, rolling your eyes back into your head at the taste.

“You’re so needy,” he teased, a smirk crossing his exhausted face.

“Maybe,” you giggled breathlessly. “Maybe I just wanted a taste.”

Levi hummed, pushing back his dampened bangs from his forehead. He gazed at you in curiosity as you pushed your aching body off the bed, wincing at the indistinct soreness between your thighs, “I have clothes you can wear, don’t worry about giving them back either.”

Ah, so here came the awkward after the one night stand conversation. You smiled politely then, “I wasn’t worried. ‘Was gonna’ steal them one way or another.”

“Lucky I didn’t catch you then,” he mused, pushing himself off the mattress as well. “You’re welcome to take a shower, if you need to. I’m about to get in myself.”

“Nah, I should probably get home, it’s late,” you searched for your phone on the floor, finding it in your jacket pocket as you tapped on the Uber app.

“I can drop off the money tomorrow at the club, if you’re working,” Levi leaned against his bedroom wall, biting his lip as his demeanor changed back to his previous one from earlier.

You smirked, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Baby, believe me, you couldn’t pay me to have sex like that. I wanted to fuck you, the money was just a fun little fantasy.”

Levi felt his ego inflate at your confession, his own lazy smirk rolling off his lips, “Let me pay for your Uber at least.”

And so he did, walking you out to the car when it arrived. You were swallowed whole by his comfortable clothing, and he placed a sweet kiss to your lips before you ducked your head into the vehicle, closing the door behind you. The car drove off swiftly, and Levi dug his hands in his pockets, walking back inside the comfort of his home to take that much needed shower.

The usual neon lights greeted you as you spun around the pole the next evening, less customers this time. You were feeling the undeniable soreness of your throat and center as you twirled around. Thankful for full coverage foundation to hide the bruises and marks littered across your entire body, no one had questioned why you were walking with such a limp. Well, aside from your favorite security guard.

“You’re off your game tonight,” Connie noted as you placed your sore body onto the bar stool. “Any reason why you can’t sit fully down without wincing?”

You flicked a unamused glance his way, “Any reason why you’re being so fucking nosy?”

“Just wondering why that guy left with last night has been following you around the club all night is all,” Connie took a swig from his beer mug, eyes batting to point behind you. “Hm, yes, very strange.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head in the direction of his gaze. Your breath caught in your throat as Levi strided cooly over to you, a small smirk on his handsome face. He ordered a whiskey neat over the counter next to you, and cleared his throat as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Thought I’d actually get to catch your dance this time,” Levi greeted. “Y’know, since I missed it last night.”

You heard Connie snort obnoxiously, and your eyes threw daggers in warning. Connie threw his hands up to mock surrender, taking his drink and walking away. You returned your attention to the ravenette beside you, “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Just couldn’t get you off my mind,” his eyes trailed to the pout of your lips. “When does your shift end?”

“In a few hours, why?”

“I wanna’ see what kind of place a girl like you can afford,” he smirked. “Maybe get a private dance this time.”

“You do pay pretty well,” you flirted, trailing your fingers up to the collar of the fashionable black sweater. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll make it worth the pain,” Levi breathed out cockily, swiping his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. “Wouldn’t want to get out of here now, would’ya?”

“I guess I could for the right price,” you parted your lips, lightly biting down on the tip of his digit.

Levi didn’t respond, instead he grabbed your wrists and led you impatiently out the door. You’d text Connie later and have him hold your tips until your next shift. You had a very important client to dance for.

#levi x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot levi #attack on titan levi #aot smut #aot fanfiction #snk levi #snk fanfiction #tw: degradation #tw: slapping #levi #levi x you #levi x y/n

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breakyeol · 4 years ago

Text

touch it (sensual oils)

one shot

┗ pairing : baekhyun x reader

words: 4k

warnings: smut, sensual massage, byun-booty, hand job, light overstimulation

a/n; because baekhyun deserves it

Baekhyun had a bad day.

That much was glaringly obvious from the very moment he stepped through the door, looking about ready to crawl beneath your bedsheets and never come out. He collapsed into your arms with a pathetic whine the moment you rose from where you were situated on the couch, the full weight of his body thrown against your chest. You grunted at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping your arms around his slim waist when you felt his knees beginning to give out.

“Baek!” You yelped, struggling feebly to support the both of you. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m too tired to stand,” he cried out dramatically, voice muffled against your shoulder, “my body feels like it’s turning into mush.”

You clicked your tongue at his familiar dramatics, a fond smile flitting across your lips in spite of yourself. “Oh my poor baby~” you cooed playfully, petting the top of his head, “they worked you into the ground?”

A heavy pout tugged at the corners of his lips, big droopy eyes swinging up to meet yours as he bobbed his head. “I’m already sore. I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.” He complained noisily, hands curling into tight fists around the material of your sweatshirt.

This close, you could easily make out the lingering scent of sweat clinging to his skin, and you didn’t doubt for a second he worked until he was drenched in it. There was a flash, an image that passed before your eyes, of Baekhyun, sweat rolling down the smooth slope of his chin, dripping from the fringes of his bangs, glistening enticingly above his brow, his mouth pink and open, gasping. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, and your attention was drawn back to the whining mess of a man squirming against your chest.

“Go shower,” you suggested, not trusting your voice above a careful whisper, “then come to bed, okay?”

“I don’t want to. Just hold me.”

You snickered, combing your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck, feeling the way his body melted into the tender caress. “I will gladly hold you for the rest of the night… after you take a shower.”

He only offered an unintelligible grunt in response, showing no signs of detaching himself from your body, his hold around you tightening in a display of stubborn resistance. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d keep this up for as long as your patience allowed – which, given how soft you were for the man, was a fairly long time –, but you knew you’d both be better off once he felt clean and refreshed, cleansed of the day’s many hardships.

“You’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”

A groan this time.

“I’ll make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

At that reparation, his head snapped up, eyes wide and, despite the exhaustion, glinting with a hint of excitement. His spine straightened, grip around you loosening somewhat as strength seemed to return to his muscles. “Really?” He whispered, pink tongue slipping out from between petal lips. So easy. You could’ve scoffed, but thought better of yourself, settling for a suggestive cock of your head that could be interpreted in a number of ways.

“Go shower,” you hummed, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and guiding his face down towards yours, “then… we’ll see.”

He let out a huff of breath, eyes going hooded as they flickered down to trace the smug curve of lips. “You’re mean.”

You laughed lightly, planting a kiss that was far too short for Baekhyun’s liking to his pouted mouth before skillfully untangling yourself from his arms. “We’ll see just how mean I can be once you come to bed.” You called teasingly over your shoulder, grinning in wild amusement at the low curse that followed.

It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way into the bedroom that you heard the soft hiss of the shower. You waited until you heard the low groan that told you that your boyfriend had finally stepped beneath the hot spray to permeate through the separating wall before you jumped into action.

This wasn’t the first time Baekhyun had come home looking ready to collapse and you doubted it would be the last. There wasn’t much you could do about him having to go to work. No matter what you said or how many times you told him he should give himself a chance to rest and recover, he would always put his everything into his work, because that was just the kind of man he was. He was all passion and fire and unrelenting persistence even when he felt like he might die. It was a quality that sparked both admiration and fear inside of you.

There was a certain helplessness that came with being the person he came home to after a long day of work, body and mind teetering dangerously on the brink of exhaustion. There wasn’t much you could do to ease his stress, as he wasn’t the type to verbally unload or express his unease to its full extent. Sure, he was dramatic, but only in a playful sense. That was his way of downplaying and covering up his true feelings, to both you and himself.

But, there were still other ways you could help. And, with some brainstorming and a bit of research, you’d come up with the perfect plan to help ease some of Baekhyun’s tension. Though, you had to scramble a bit to set the scene, you knew it would be fully worth it to see the look on his face.

It was just as you’d lit the final candle, completing the final touches, that you heard the shower shut off. Perfect timing. You quickly situated yourself on the edge of the bed, the cool air caressing your scantily clad body, rousing goosebumps across your skin.

But, the chills tickling your spine were little more than a second thought as Baekhyun stepped into the room donning nothing more than a towel that hung dangerously low on his full hips. He paused just inside the doorway, his brows shooting upwards as he took in the state of your shared bedroom. Wide eyes danced over the flickering candles laid out strategically across the hardwood floor to encircle the bed, swept over the scattered rose petals, before finally landing on you.

You, wearing a deep crimson lingerie set, a sheer silk robe, and nothing more.

His bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, rose sharply as his breath hitched. A low curse tumbled from his lips, almost too faint to hear over the seductive instrumentals pulsing from the speakers.

A satisfied smirk broke across your face at his reaction, pleased with yourself for having successfully caught him off guard.

“Surprise,” you sang, voice low and silken.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his own amazement rooting him in place as he visually inhaled the sight of you. Your skin was hot beneath the intensity of his gaze, blazing as it trailed torturously slow up the length of your body, not daring to miss a single detail.

A faint buzz of nerves fizzled in your gut.

You’d never done anything like this before. Presented yourself in such a way to him, that is. All wrapped up in silk and lace of only the most sensual nature, bathed in smooth orange candlelight that tickled your ankles and crept up the smooth length of your lower legs. This was something new for the both of you, something unexplored. But it also wasn’t everything you had in store.

When he moved, it was with the utmost cautiousness, as if stepping too quickly or too harshly might disturb the beautiful illusion spread before him. But still, he moved, unable to resist the temptation.

Without speaking, his hands found your face, curving around the shape of your jaw and winding around the back of your neck. They were cold against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled down your spine as he leaned over you. You let out a soft hum at his touch, head rolling back under his gentle coaxing.

Not a beat passed before his mouth found yours, eager and impatient. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, easily finding the smooth slope of his naked waist and tugging him closer. He moaned somewhere low in his throat, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lip. You allowed as much, indulging the hungry press of his mouth, the careful nips of his teeth — until he tried to lay you down.

Your palms met the swells of his chest, and he pulled away, breathless and confused. “What is it?” He asked hoarsely, licking over his swollen lips. You’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t look irresistible in that moment, wet hair hanging messily over his brows, dark, hooded eyes, all haze and lust as they stared down at you heatedly, full cheeks blushing a feverish shade of red. But you had plans for tonight, plans you didn’t intend to discard for the sake of sexual pleasure.

“I’m not fucking you.”

He gasped, disbelief coloring his features. “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you grinned, settling your hands on his hips, “I’m going to give you a massage.”

“A massa— ah!” his words cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp as you suddenly spun him around, all but throwing him down onto the petal covered mattress. He could only stare at you in shock as you crawled over his nearly naked body, mouth curved into a playful smile.

“A massage.” You confirmed, sounding rather proud. But, he still looked less than amused, so you elaborated. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks, and I know you’ve been stressed and your body is exhausted. A massage will help release some of that tension.”

“You know what else releases tension?” He asked, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You cocked a brow, feeling the light press of his fingertips as they feathered over your thighs, taking an obvious path upwards. Desire and mischief swirled in his eyes, voice low and thick as the words dripped slowly from his dangerous tongue, “Hot… passionate… s—”

You snatched his hands from your skin before they could reach their destination, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “Shut up and roll over.”

He huffed, pouting up at you scornfully but obeyed nonetheless, rolling onto his stomach. “Do you even know how to give a massage?” He snipped as you settled yourself on the back of his towel clad thighs.

“I’ve done my research.” You offered lightly, sparing a moment to admire the lithe, sinewy build of his shoulders and back before you moved, reaching for the tall bottle you’d situated on the nightstand earlier. He followed your movements from the corner of his eye, curiosity breaking through the petulant facade.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit cruel?”

“Perhaps,” you teased, pouring the translucent golden liquid into your palm, “but you’ll enjoy this, I promise. Just… relax.”

A defeated sigh escaped his chest, his body deflating beneath you. “Fine. But, this better feel better than sex or I swear to god I will—” he jolted with a soft gasp as you suddenly pressed the heels of your oil lathered palms into the area just between his shoulder blades and pushed outwards, “sue.”

You smirked smugly to yourself at the breathlessness with which he completed his sentence, obviously not having expected the pressure to feel that amazing.

“Good?” You asked, voice tinged with arrogance.

“Uh-huh,” he admitted immediately, moaning throatily as you rolled your thumbs deeply against the base of his neck, “oh fuck that feels so good.”

You chuckled, skillfully working your fingers across the planes of his broad shoulders. He melted deeper into the mattress with every knot you deftly unwound, soft, relieved moans breaking from his open mouth. The smooth, lavender scented oil glistened captivatingly on his sun-kissed skin, the delicate aroma gently permeating through your bedroom. It was a lovely, soothing smell, subtle and unimposing. You spread it diligently across the smooth expanse of his upper back, before gradually beginning to work your way downwards.

His sounds of bliss lowered in pitch the lower your hands reached, dipping into silky tenor groans when your hands reached the delicate dip of his waist. But, as you moved to massage the area just above his hips, he suddenly jolted, spine arching, a strained curse rushing from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help the concern that sparked to life in your chest at his response. “Does it hurt?” You asked, easing up on the pressure but not removing your touch completely. Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded with a soft, hesitant hum, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “What happened?”

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “I just… twisted it weirdly during practice, I guess.” He offered weakly, shivering as you poured a small puddle of oil in the small of his back.

“Did you take a break?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Baek,” your tone turned scolding as you gently worked your fingers into the tight dip of his waist, “just because you can fight through the pain doesn’t mean that you should. You’re not doing your body any favors by pushing it this hard.”

“I know but I—“ he sighed heavily, pressing his face into the sheets, “I just… don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

Oh, your poor, sweet Baekhyun. Always trying to please everyone else even when it ends up hurting him.

Pausing in your movements, you leaned forwards, bracing your hands on his shoulders so that you could speak in his ear. “Nobody is disappointed in you, Baek. You work so hard everyday to be the best you can be, and it shows. Everyone knows that you put your everything into what you do. And everyone’s proud of you,” you pressed your lips against the curve of his throat, slowly working your way up to the curve of his jaw, “I’m proud of you.”

He glanced back at you through his eyelashes. “Really?”

The question is so soft, so uncertain, and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the thought that this man truly doesn’t understand just how many people adore him for just being… him. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the rising of his cheeks, though he tried to hide himself beneath his arm, suddenly shy. You bit back a grin of your own, pressing one final kiss to the shell of his ear before returning to your earlier position and resuming the massage. He felt a dozen times more relaxed beneath you, the previous tension occupying his muscles having magically dissipated.

Sometimes, all he really needed was a little reassurance.

The smile that settled across your lips was unwavering as you took to kneading at the supple flesh of his hips, just above the top of his towel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of a thought. A mischievous, dangerous thought. A thought that had your attention lingering on where the towel was tucked and secured on his right hip. Glancing up at the back of his head, you allowed your fingers to trail discretely towards the damp, white fabric, toying with it lightly so that he wouldn’t notice — not even as it came undone.

It was only as you peeled it swiftly away from his body and Baekhyun felt the rush of cool air across his backside that he realized what had just occurred.

“H– Hey!” He yelped, swinging his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is a full body massage, Baek. It’s not a full body massage unless it’s full body.”

“My butt does not need massaging.”

You grinned, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you cocked a challenging brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Pervert.” He hissed.

You gasped, splaying a hand across your chest. “Who told you?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your antics, but put up little resistance as you nudged his hands away from his butt. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned a dark, lovely shade of pink, and he quickly buried his face in his arms. Taking that as his nonverbal cue to continue, you poured yourself some more of the lavender scented oil, overturning your palm to let it drizzle onto his cheeks. He flinched slightly, the sensation catching him off guard.

So cute. You bit into the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing at him, opting to set your hands upon the gentle curve of his ass and knead your fingers into the soft, toned flesh. Baekhyun stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering as his body responded to the soothing touch.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You asked, tone teasing.

“Shut up.”

You snickered, massaging deep circles into the muscles of his upper thigh. He groaned deeply, fingers curling into the sheets. “Right there, right there— fuck, right there. It’s so sore.”

Heat flickered faintly in the pit of your stomach at the low rasping of his voice, grunted roughly through clenched teeth. Geez, why’d he have to sound so damn sexy…

Brushing off the thought as best you could, you forced yourself to focus on massaging the tension from his hamstrings. But each brush of your fingers over the insides of his thighs, intentional or otherwise, coaxed a round of violent shivers and breathless moans from your very much nude and very much oil covered boyfriend. You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, jaw clenching as you squeezed your hands around the backs of his lower thighs.

The sounds he was making weren’t helping your… situation in the least.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked, somewhat airily as your hands glided upwards, to just below the curve of his ass before returning to the crook of his knee. The question snapped you out of whatever trance you’d put yourself in watching the way his slick, honeyed skin dipped and curved deliciously beneath the pressure of your touch.

“Re- research. Lots of research.” You cleared your throat, shifting downwards on the mattress to set to work on his calves.

“You’re hands are fucking magic.”

Warmth slipped into your cheeks at the praise, your heart picking up speed within your chest. He was making it difficult for you to focus.

“I told you you’d like it.” You hummed playfully, beginning the slow ascent back up the length of his naked body.

“You were right,” he conceded easily, sighing in bliss as your hands slid over the small of his back, “I love it. Feels so fucking good, you have no idea.”

A content (and perhaps a bit smug) smile settled across your face. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. All you wanted was to make Baekhyun feel even just a little bit better after what you knew had to be a long, hard day— and you goddamn succeeded.

“Baek,” you murmured, and he gasped softly, not expecting your lips to be right next to his ear. He let out an unsteady hum, blinking hard twice when he felt your lace covered chest press against his back, “roll over for me?”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. You lifted yourself off of him to give him just enough room to turn onto his back beneath you. All at once you were nose to nose, soft puffs of breath caressing your mouth. He was looking up at you with those eyes again, those hooded, wanting eyes, his hands clenching at the sheets somewhere down by his sides. You could see the dark flush on his cheeks, the desperation slowly seeping into his expression.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” The question was quiet, barely a whisper on his delicate pink lips. But the fire it ignited inside of you was anything but— loud, violent, and devastating, ripping your so well kept self control to shreds in a matter of moments.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sliding a slick hand down his toned stomach, “but I’m going to touch it first.”

He barely had time to react before your hand was around his cock. He gasped, back arching, forcing his chest flush against yours. Surprise flickered across your face upon feeling him already fully hard and throbbing against your palm. “Oh?”

“What?” He huffed out breathlessly, swinging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, “did you expect me not to get hard while my sexy girlfriend wearing sexy lingerie rubs every inch of my body with oil?”

Pausing, you squinted down at him. “It was the butt massage, wasn’t it?”

He glared, and you grinned.

But any annoyance was wiped clean off his face as you squeezed your fingers around him, stroking his dick at a slow, borderline torturous pace. The remaining oil on your hand combined with his precum provided the perfect lubrication, the slide smooth and wet, the lewd sound of it making you clench around nothing. Baekhyun’s head rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. But, not for a moment did his gaze break from yours. You bit your lip harshly, a violent heat licking at your veins, the sheer intensity of his dark stare making your head feel dizzy.

“You look… so hot right now.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to feel even the least bit ashamed.

The corner of his mouth curled into a sultry smirk, an airy chuckle rumbling somewhere low in his chest.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “Then kiss me.”

You did so without hesitation.

Baekhyun let out a heady groan, hands surging up from between your bodies to cradle your jaw as your lips worked against his with a hunger you hadn’t realized you possessed. It was uncoordinated and messy, all lashing tongue and vicious teeth, biting and sucking and licking until you were certain your that lips were raw. You were dizzy and intoxicated by the taste of him, and he wasn’t in much of a better state. With his cock in your hand and your tongue in his mouth, it didn’t seem like he’d last much longer.

Beneath you, Baekhyun’s hips bucked and rolled, frenzied and desperate. Your hand stilled around him, allowing him the luxury of control as he fucked himself violently into your closed fist. Each moan that tumbled from his mouth into yours was louder than the last, and you relished in the unabashed displays of pleasure, taking an immense amount of pride in knowing that you were the cause of it.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped the warning, his nails biting harshly into your shoulder, “fuck— fuck, wait— I’m g-gonna come.”

“Baek,” you panted, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss, “come for me. Please.”

His back arched, the furnace of his body overwhelmed but still trying feebly to fight back his oncoming high. Baekhyun didn’t like coming first. He’d always had the tendency of putting your pleasure above his own, making sure you came at least once (if not multiple times) before him. But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him. And you were going to make sure he knew it.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking a dark bruise into his skin while simultaneously rolling your thumb over his sensitive tip in a way that had him trembling pathetically beneath you.

“Oh god— oh fuck— y/n—!” He came with a hoarse cry of your name, hips bucking, muscles tensing, skin shivering. You felt his hot release spilling over your knuckles, slipping between your fingers. He whimpered and squirmed as the overstimulation kicked in, but you didn’t stop stroking him until he started begging. “I can’t, I can’t— baby, please—” his chest heaved and his eyes went glassy, the dangerous cocktail of pleasure and pain making his head feel dizzy.

Looking down at him, so wrecked and fucked out, with those flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, you felt your heart flutter at the same time arousal coiled in your gut. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

You relented, gently releasing his spent dick from your hold. He let out a shaky breath before tugging you into another mind numbing kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, feeling one of his hands coil around the back of your neck while the other explored the expanse of your back. It didn’t take long before they discovered the clasp of your bra, deftly unclasping it. Distracted by the skillful flicks of his tongue, you didn’t realize what he’d done until you felt the lacy fabric slip down your arms.

A giggle bubbled in your throat, and you whispered against his mouth, “naughty boy.”

His lips curled, and then all at once you found yourself sprawled on your back. “Naughty girl,” Baekhyun retaliated in a low, playful growl, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, “making me cum even after I told you to wait...”

His head dipped and you gasped softly as he nipped at the sensitive part of your throat, one hand sliding down to grip at your naked breast. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as he circled your nipple with a rough thumb.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay you back for it…”

You weren’t about to object to that.

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

In Name Only - Part 16

A/N: Hi, hi, hi! I’m finally back with some more of Oberyn and his Sunshine! I’ve missed them so much, and I hope you’re all excited for more as I am! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, violence, slight language

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Those are so pretty," Saria chirped excitedly as she reached up and touched one of the newly bloomed flowers. It was brilliant shades of yellow and orange, creating the illusion of a sunset. You nodded in agreement before delicately plucking the blossom and tucking it behind her ear.

"And now the prettiest girl has the prettiest flower," you told her as she beamed at you. She giggled wildly before touching the flower and running to join the Dorea and Loreza who were busy playing in a different part of the garden. They'd come to stay for a while at Sunspear and you were more than happy to keep them as long as they wanted.

"And what about you?" you turned to Altair who was intently observing a different flower, “which is your favorite?"

"I like this one best I think,” he commented thoughtfully as he touched over a dark red flower, one that was native to Dorne - hardy and resilient, just like its people. It almost reminded you of a rose, but what with a bit.

“That’s one of my favorites too,” you agreed as you pulled one of the hardiest blossoms off and held it out for him, “do you want to know why?”

“Why?” he asked, his dark eyes wide and glittering with excitement. You couldn’t help but ruffle his dark hair, an affectionate smile on your face.

“My husband planted them for me,” you explained, thinking back to the day you had found Oberyn in the gardens, hard at work by himself planting the flowers as a surprise for you. He was many things, but a green thumb he did not possess, unlike you. But he had been so proud and excited to show them to you, his hands covered with little cuts from the harsh thrones and thick stalks, “and they remind me of Dorne - home. Strong, beautiful, and welcoming to those who treat it right.”

“Can I keep it?” he asked quietly as you nodded. He threw his little arms around your waist and you bent down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “I’m going to go and show the others!”

Before you could even get a word in edgewise, he was gone, off to join his sister and the younger girls. You crossed your arms over your chest, a content sigh escaped your lips as you picked up your watering can to continue tending to your flourishing garden. But you were once again estopped by a warm of arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to make a small sound of surprise.

“Hello, my sweetest sunshine,” Oberyn’s voice was like golden honey in your ears as he pressed a kiss to your neck, “how I have missed you.”

“And a hello to you my moon and stars,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you put your hands on top of his, deftly spinning around in his arms before facing him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “it has been what...about five hours since we parted ways for the afternoon? I hardly think you’d had adequate time to miss me.”

“I always miss you when we’re not together,” he insisted, playfully pouting at you, “the insinuation that I should feel anything but wounds me so, dear wife.”

“Oh stop,” you swatted at his chest before he pulled you towards him, “you are a fool of a Prince. Besides, I for one have not missed you!”

“Oh?” he teased, his eyebrow arching as you broke into a fit of giggles, “I spy a little liar.”

“You’ve caught me,” you acquiesced, “but alas, I have been busy with the garden and these little ones constantly under foot. Loreza is a little trouble maker, just like her father. But Dorea is as steadfast as her mother. A lethal little duo.”

“Ahh, they have learned well,” he snorted as you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you as he watched the four young children running around and playing, the wistful look on your face not lost on you, “the twins seem to enjoy spending time with them.”

“They do,” you agree, biting on your lower lip, “I k-know we’re not supposed to play favorites, but they just...they’re special to me.”

“And they adore you just as well.”

“They adore you,” you insisted with a laugh, “the prince of legend! The lethal, ever deadly Red Viper.”

“I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“I know your bark is worse than your bite,” you insisted as you kissed him, cutting him off before he could argue, “it is not wise to argue with your wife.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, “will you take a turn about the gardens with me? There are some things we should discuss..”

You knew it wouldn’t be anything bad, there was no reason for it to be, but a lump still welled up in your throat. Such things always made you nervous, especially since the majority of the times you’d been asked to speak in such a manner only bad news followed. But judging by the light smile on his face, you knew it would be okay.

The past month, almost two, had been a whirlwind, especially when it came to helping Oberyn get closer and closer to be back to perfect health again. It had hardly allotted you many moments to talk properly. He grew stronger and stronger each day, and it some ways it was almost like nothing had happened at all. But you knew - you remembered. It was always in the back of your mind, reminding you that your family was the cause of this. You still needed to talk about it, but you’d never found the right time. But as you looked into those soft brown eyes, you decided it could wait. For now, all that mattered was this.

He offered you his arm and you looped yours through his, allowing him to dictate the course. It was silent for a few moments, not but the sounds of the fountains, chirps of birds, and the sounds of laughter reaching your ears.

“I’ve been thinking…” he started slowly, “and before you say anything, I do realize it is a rare occasion!”

“I would say no such thing,” you promised with a wink as he just shook his head in amusement, “please my prince, do tell me what has been weighing on your mind.”

“It’s…” he paused before exhaling slowly, “the twins.”

“The t-twins? What about them?” you tried to rack your brain for something that you could have possibly done wrong with them, “I haven’t…”

“It is nothing in the negative,” he must have sensed your worry without you even having to do anything. You visibly relaxed as you nodded and waited for him to go on, “I note that you’ve grown ever closer to them, you spend much time with them at your side.”

“I know we are not..to play favorites,” you answered nervously, “I fear I must have been doing a horrible job of that.”

“And your actions are not at fault,” he insisted, as you offered him a confused look, “I know we talked before...about children...”

“I can’t have children,” you interrupted him, answering his silent question. You kept your gaze pointed straight ahead, attempting your best to conceal your emotions. Oberyn’s gaze was trained intently on you, his expression soft. It wasn’t often that he was rendered speechless, but this turned out to be one of those rare moments, “I speak with the maester when we returned from Starfall and you were gone in King’s Landing.”

“Oh,” was his simple answer as you nodded, “and she…”

“There’s no way to be completely certain,” you said softly, “but there are ways to be almost certain, as certain as one can get. And it seems that the odds are not in my favor.”

“You said there is no way to completely certain,” he insisted, “there’s still a chance, and if you should want, we can always try...”

“No, Oberyn,” you stopped in your tracks as you pulled him towards you, a hand going to his jaw before you ran a hand through his dark curls, “it does not matter, my love. I am happy, so happy. Nothing makes me happier than you, I swear it. You, the girls, Ellaria, the rest of the family, we have so much already. There’s nothing for me left to want.”

You had hoped that saying the words out loud would somehow make them more true, more real. But they still hurt, cutting deep.

“You deserve the world, my sunshine,” he promised, kissing the top of your head, “whatever you desire you shall have it.”

“I’m afraid that nothing will give this to me...us, not even all the gold in the Seven Kingdoms,” you offered him a small smile, “now, tell me, what you were going to say before I so rudely interrupted you.”

“The twins,” he said, cradling your face in his hands, “I realize this might be a bit unconventional, but what do you say about bringing them in our family? Adopting them?”

“A-adopting them?” you weren’t quite sure what you were hearing as the word tumbled from your mouth. Looking at Oberyn, you opened and closed your mouth a few times, tilting your head to the side as you tried to figure out what was happening. He was watching you with a small smile, waiting for you to realize what he had said, “Oberyn? D-do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” he said softly, “I would not joke about such a matter. I know...it is unconventional and not very common, but I would like to bring them into our family. By convention, they would not be recognized as Martells in other parts of the Kingdoms, but in Dorne it would not matter. It-”

“Does not matter at all,” you finished for him as he nodded in agreement, “it is not the name that makes the person, the quality of their heart - their actions.”

“If only the rest of the world thought as we did,” he gave you a fond smile before pulling you into his arms, “but what do you think?”

“Oberyn…” you looked back up at him, your eyes already misty with tears as you nodded at him. You knew you wanted this - not because your dreams of baring your own children were gone, but because you loved them, truly. And you wanted nothing more than to bring them into your family, your family that had nothing but love and kindness to give.

Oberyn seemed to know what you were thinking, because he quickly wiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He paused for a moment and rested his forehead against yours as he held you tightly in his grip, “everything is going to be alright, my love. Please don’t think ill of the situation...no one is to blame, absolutely no one. And you know my love for you will never change or waver, never. Things will work out as they are meant to, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, hearing his words but failing to process them in the moment, overwhelmed by emotion, “I’m sorry, my love. I-I...I can’t even give you a child of our own. I’m such a -”

“Stop,” he whispered softly, his heart breaking a little at your anguish. He wrapped his arms tightly around you as you buried your face in his chest, tears soaking into the fabric of his tunic. You knew it was silly to get so upset, especially since you thought you’d come to terms with this, and you knew Oberyn wouldn’t be upset, “I know this means nothing coming from me, but i will be okay. I swear it. I will do whatever it takes to get you to understand that.”

“You’ll still love me?” you asked softly as he chuckled warmly and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I will always love you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that,” he promised, and you relaxed slightly, “my love for you knows no bounds. And you have my heart and soul. Completely and fully.”

“I love you,” you whispered, “so much.”

“And I you,” he responded, “and I’ve got one more bit of good news for you. I know it’s not much, but I’m hoping that perhaps it will at least bring a smile to that pretty face.”

“You’ve given me nothing good news and love,” you laughed at your foolishness as you pulled back from him, “and I give you nothing but theatrics. What else could you possibly have for me?”

“Have you ever considered traveling across the Narrow Seas?” your eyebrows immediately shot up at his question as he seemed to be holding back a gleeful grin.

“I can’t say it’s really crossed my mind…” you admitted, “what lies there that has you asking?”

“Essos,” he answered, “the King needs an envoy to go to make the journey and ensure that plans and laws that were instilled by Daenerys still stand.”

“And he asked you to go?” your heart immediately grew worried and nervous as your eyes darted to his side, the spot concealed by his tunic where he still bore the scars of the stabbing that your brother had inflicted on him. You were reluctant to let him leave again, especially anywhere out of Dorne, “a-are you sure, Oberyn? I don’t know if that’s the best idea…”

“You worry?”

“Of course I worry,” you insisted, “there are enemies everywhere, as you have said many times. I couldn’t even trust my own flesh and blood. The last time you left, you almost….and Essos? That’s half a world away…”

“I would not go with your blessing,” he promised as he put his hand on your cheek, “nor would I go without you. It’s a large and wondrous world, and I think it would suit you. Essos and the Summer Isles are some of the most beautiful places in the world.”

“You want me to go with you?” you asked hopefully as he nodded.

“What is this old fool without his wife next to him?” he teased, “besides, I was told that I could not venture into the world without you...I think it would be quite dull without my sunshine. I would not let anything happen to you.”

“Nor I you,” you promised, knowing you would cut down any man or woman that even breathed wrong in his direction, “you’re serious about this? You’re sure it will be safe?”

“Yes,” he insisted, “and yes. We won’t be going alone. The retinue will come, as well some other Lords from around the Kingdoms. Honestly, I doubt it will take much work from our end...it will be more of a vacation than anything else.”

“You’re sure about this?” your words were gentle and soft as put your hand on his chest, “positive?”

“I am,” he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “what do you say?”

“For you?” resting your hand on his cheek, you brushed a finger over his cheekbone, “I would do anything and go anywhere. Yes. Let’s do this.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Diplomatic ventures had always seemed so....droll. Plagued by aged and old fashioned men who claimed to know what was best for their people, who claimed to know what people wanted but did everything but. Naturally there were exceptions, such as your father, and it wouldn’t be fair to lump all men into the same category. But from your childhood trips along with Lord Beesbury, your hopes were not high that this would be any different.

But you should have known better because like with most things, Oberyn was able to turn into a pleasant adventure. Along with the shift of having a Stark King on the Iron Throne accompanied by the Queen in the North, things were...different. Gone were the stilted and old ways, slowly morphing into workable and tangible - change.

What you were sure was destined to be nothing but boring roundtables without anything productive being done, turned out to be the opposite. Men, and women, of different backgrounds and creed came together to work for the people, not just their people but all people. It was something to marvel at and instilled a sense of hope in you.

Hope that Oberyn’s children, your children, would grow up in a world where things would be different from your youth, where they would not have opportunities denied to them because of their birth, their origin, or the truths and beliefs they held. Things would never be perfect, but they would be better and that was enough to carry you forward.

Watching Oberyn, not just your husband or the Prince, but a man of his people - the people - in action was a treat unto of itself. Eloquent and well spoken as ever, he carried himself with an ease and comfort that you could only wish to obtain a fraction of. He was never loud or over the top, but his tranquility and calm aura did not let you forget that he was still as deadly as the rumors suggested.

This was a man that spoke in prose as lovely as roses but sharp as hawthorne. A man that would charm and persuade to see his ways, but would not hesitate to cut you down if necessary. The duality of Oberyn Martell was a gift to behold, and somehow it still stunned you that you were in the very center of his universe. But somehow you were, his sunshine that brightened every facet of his life while he was your moon and stars, grounding you and keeping you safe and sound.

“What?” Oberyn’s voice was warm and gravely, still heavy and thick with sleep as he opened his eyes to find you watching him closely. A warmth flooded into your face as you attempted to burrow your face into the pillow; you hadn’t expected him to wake up and just wanted to study his features while he slept. You’d done it a million times before, or so it seemed, and you wanted to do it a million times more. There was something about how calm and at ease he looked while his broad chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His chocolate curls were mussed and wild, practically calling for you to comb throw as his plush lips were drawn in the lightest of smiles. He was just so...golden; drawing you in like nothing else mattered.

The soft, warm air of the Summer Isles was coming in through the windows which you had left open the evening before, perfuming the air with the faint smell of the salty ocean. You’d had a late evening before and were in no rush to get up, despite the fact that you knew he had duties to attend to. There was something about the comfort and safety of waking up in his bed, your, bed that always kept you wanting to stay tangled up with him.

“Nothing,” you insisted as you opened one eye and peeked at him, watching the corners of his mouth tug up. He laughed lightly before his strong arm found you under the covers and pulled you closer to him. A contented sigh escaped your lips as his fingers traced aimless, gentle shapes into your back. You closed the small gap and pressed your lips against his, feeling him smile against your as he chased after you with a few kisses of your own, “Oberyn.”

“Yes?” he teased as he kissed long your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin in a way that he knew would leave marks, “tell me what’s on your mind or I’ll stop.”

“Such a tease,” you huffed tightly as you tugged on his soft curls, “I was just thinking about you.”

“About me? Whatever for?” he seemed genuinely surprised and pulled back for a moment, which allowed you to take advantage of the situation. You pushed him flat on his back as you rolled on top of him, your bare body flush against his. He almost laughed when he realized what you had done, one of his large hands going to your bum and giving it a firm squeeze, which elicited a soft sigh from you, “cheeky girl.”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you kissed him, “I was just thinking about all the ways in which I love you, which, in case I haven’t reminded you lately, are infinite. But now, I’m thinking about something far different.”

“Oh?” he pressed your forehead against his as he held you with a vice grip, “and what would that be?”

“How much I want you,” it was a gentle, breathy whisper in his arms as you kissed the shell of his ear before working your way back to your lips, “my moon and stars.”

“Then take what you need, sweet girl. I am all yours,” he promised, “body and soul. Besides, I quite like you on top. A sight to be marveled at it, that even the finest art could never capture in essence.”

“Always a poet,” you flourished under his praise as your hands roamed his body, “almost as lovely as watching you come undone, Oberyn Martell. Now, don’t hold back, my love, let them all hear you…”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Be safe,” Oberyn whispered against your lips before slowly pulling away. It was endearing to know he was so concerned about your safety, despite the fact that the Summer Isles were one of the safest places to be. You nodded slowly before sneaking in another kiss and smoothing down the soft fabric of his bronze tunic. He was handsome as ever, and despite the fact that you were dressed in a soft, breezy gown of your own, you knew you would never match his beauty.

“I will,” you promised, “I’m just going to explore the markets, maybe go to the ocean, nothing dangerous at all. Besides, I think I found something that the girls will like and I want to get it for them if it’s still there.”

“Do you want-”

“Oberyn,” you insisted firmly, but with a soft tone nonetheless, “I will be fine. I can handle myself, and besides, Jeron’s taught me a few tricks for the times I should be parted from you, in the off chance I need them. It should be me worrying about you. Politicians and Lords are the real snakes here after all, remind them who the Red Viper is, remind them that you are the Prince.”

“I should know better than to worry about you,” he said with a small laugh, “I will see you this evening for dinner then. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you grinned at him before gently pushing on his chest and back towards the building in which all of these so called important meetings had been happening, “now go and get your work done. I don’t want to keep you away!”

“Wait,” he ducked after you and reached for your hand, despite the fact that you had just turned away from.

“What?” a look of surprise coloring your features as he brought your hand to his lips and delicately kissed your knuckles, “Oberyn!”

“I missed you the moment you turned away,” he said softly, as you just shook your head at him, “until your paths cross again, sweet girl.”

“You are a fool of a man,” you teased as you let him be the one to walk away. He turned and gave you one last look before crossing the threshold and giving you a soft smile, the one that made you weak in the knees and a fire pool in your belly.

Staring at the spot he had previously occupied, you let a small sigh before walking away, ready to take on your own leisurely day. The island of Jhala was a beautiful place, filled with kind souls and beautiful scenery. You’d never seen any place like it before, but you already knew a piece of your heart would remain here even long after you were back in Dorne. Hopefully Oberyn would not be opposed to coming back soon.

You’d even made a few friends during your extended stay, finding the people welcoming and open, much more than most people in Westeros and they’d even taught some of their language, simply dubbed the Summer Tongue.

As you walked through the bustling marketplace, your eyes came across glittering jewels of rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, fabric of the brightest tones and colors, arts and sculptures, and anything else you could possibly imagine. You made it a point to find something special for everyone back home, including all of the girls, and the twins you’d soon be calling your own. The hunt for something special for Oberyn was proving to be the most challenging of all as you tried to pick your brain for what to get him. Anything that had crossed your mind, he had in turn picked out and gotten himself, he already had, or was something that just wasn’t quite it. But you’d kept your eyes peeled anyway.

So peeled, in fact, that you didn’t watch where you were going and walked right into someone. A small oof escaped your lips as you looked and found a little girl with bright, eager eyes watching you eagerly. She was gorgeous, skin almost as dark as the richest chocolate, with hair that was intricately styled in braids you learned were traditional to the people of Jhala. Her dress was feathered, a brilliant symphony of greens and reds as she grinned at you, completely untroubled or phased by the fact that you almost bowled her over.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” you offered an apologetic smile and looked her over to make sure she was okay, “I should have been watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she chirped back in your tongue, “we’ve been expecting you!”

“Expecting...me?” you asked as she reached for your hand, and started to pull you away from the crowd. Nothing but a cloud of confusion hung over you as you followed the young girl; you were nervous or scared, but you were intrigued, “who’s been expecting me?”

But she didn’t say anything else, instead pulling you near a small back alley where there were almost no people, just a few here and there milling about. When she seemingly reached her destination, she dropped your hand as you studied your surroundings. Strange, you thought to yourself, I’ve never seen this before.

“Hey-” you turned back to your mysterious little friend but found...nothing. There wasn’t even so much a single disturbance in the air to suggest that anyone had been there or moved away rapidly...there was nothing. A huff of air escaped your lips as you turned and did a spin to just to make sure no one was there; surely you didn’t mind all of that? No, you couldn’t have....you were positive you could still feel the touch of her small hand in yours. It was like a direct call back to your encounter with the mysterious woman in the woods, but this you were sure was real.

“Hello?” your voice sounded small and diminutive in the large open alleyway, reverbing off the stone walls. No response met your ears but you were positive that you heard your name being whispered softly, calling to you and drawing you in. You were like a moth to a flame as you walked along the cobblestones to the place you were being drawn to, “hello?”

You stopped in front of what appeared to be a small little shop that smelled deliciously of warm spices. Flowers decorated the small window and doors, immediately giving you a sense of warmth and ease. Pushing aside the curtain made of hanging beads and jewels, you slowly stepped inside and looked around. The small space was lit up from the golden sunlight streaming in from the window and softly flickering candles. A small table and two chairs, both looking soft and cozy were in the center of the room, the rest of the space occupied by trinkets from what you assumed were around the world.

“Lady Martell,” the voice was warm and richly accented as you turned and found yourself looking at yet another new person. She offered you a warm smile before coming over and holding her hand out to you; there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you reached over and took it, giving it a firm shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

“How do you...know my name?” you asked as she led you to the table and pulled a car for you to sit in. You sat down and watched her intently as she busied herself with making tea. You tensed for a moment as you flashed back to the tea that had once been presented to you with a most devious intention. But you didn’t think this would be anything like that. She took a few moments, humming under her breath before coming back to you and placing it in front of you before and taking a seat.

“There is no need to worry,” she insisted, “everyone knows who you are. The Prince’s wife, of course. He’s always a welcome sight here as is anyone with him.”

“Oh,” you laughed at yourself, “of course. Sometimes I forget that my husband is such...a prolific figure.”

“As you should,” she said with a warm smile, “he is no stranger to you, but your partner, your lover, your friend - just another person in your life. But to us, he is a man of myth and legend.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “that is he is. Do you...umm...do you happen to have a young girl? I bumped into her and then was gone…”

“Acacia,” she sighed with a smile on her face as a sense of relief washed over you and you realized that you most definitely were not crazy or imagining things, but she had been a real, tangible little girl, “she’s a wily, sneaky little thing sometimes. Here one moment and then gone the next, and almost impossible to keep track of. I wish I could have even a fraction of her energy.”

“She was there one moment and then gone the next,” you told her, “I thought I might have imagined the whole thing.”

“No worries,” she promised, “she’s something else...but I find that people often land where they’re supposed to be at the right time.”

“I…” you mulled over her words as you drank some of the tea; it was sweet with a hint of a spice, but delicious, “I suppose they do.”

“What troubles you?”

“I’m sorry?” you almost choked on the tea as you set it back down. You looked around and tried to put together who the mysterious woman was when it hit you, she was likely some of...something. You were unsure if there was even a proper label for it, “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“You appear happy,” she said as you nodded, “but I can tell there is something underlying...there is something in your eyes that suggests a deep sense of unhappiness.”

“What?” you asked as you almost laughed in her face. Of course you were happy, you had no reason not to be...your life was practical bliss… “I am happy, so happy. I-I have everything and then some…”

“That may be so, but one can still experience unhappiness,” you swallowed thickly as you shifted in your seat, “but you have to be honest with yourself...what plagues you? What keeps you up at night?”

You wanted to argue with her and tell her she was wrong, but in that moment you just couldn’t. Instead, your eyes welled up and stung as you stared at the table, playing with the delicate lace of the fabric that covered it. You closed and opened your mouth a few times as a few warm, salty tears filled down your cheeks. You had thought, you were sure, that you had been able to conceal your emotions so well, that everything was in check, but apparently you had been very, very wrong. All the feelings you thought were resolved were apparently very much unresolved.

“Umm,” she handed you a handkerchief which you used to dab at your eyes, “it’s...gods, I feel silly being so worried and still ruminating on this, but my husband...he was injured at the hands of my family, my brother specifically. Oberyn told me to let it go, that things would be resolved, but I can’t just let it go...I can’t forgive them for what they did to him. He almost died, I stayed by his side as he clung to life, and he wants to let it go.”

“And you don’t want to do that?”

“No,” you insisted sharply, “I don’t. My entire life I have been the black sheep, the scorn of the family. I have had so many things taken from me, and I refuse to let them take more. I don’t...I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to Oberyn...I would....I cannot fathom it. But I can’t let it go and let them think they can do this. Oberyn thinks it’s better to let it go and not stir up trouble, but this isn’t like nicking some chocolate. They wanted to kill him and they almost did. I want them to know what they did, to experience the pain I did.”

“And what would you do to them?”

“I would make them suffer, the same cruel harshness that Oberyn had to go through,” you said through gritted teeth, almost surprising yourself with such harshness. You’d had these thoughts swirling in your mind since you had first discovered the truth from Jeron, but to hear out loud like this was another story, “I want them to know what I went through. And I want to know why. Why can’t they just let us alone and experience our own happiness? Oberyn went to them with peaceful intentions, asking almost nothing of them, but they couldn’t let it go.”

“Every action has a consequence, you understand this, yes?” she asked as you downed the rest of your teeth, studying the grit at the bottom of the cup “

“Action-Reaction,” you concluded with a nod, “I won’t do anything that will cause trouble. There is no reason to incite a war, which my husband has reminded me of many times. He worries too much about me sometimes, I think. He wants to protect me, I know he does, but sometimes I want to protect him too. And I know that I would have all of Dorne support me in this, he is their Prince! The Stark King would make them see reason and realize their actions will not go unpunished.”

“Does their violence necessarily mean you should respond in kind?”

“I....” you paused as you mulled over her words as you realized she had a point, “I don’t know. There’s a million different ways to look at this, but I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. I just know...I can’t let them do this without saying something.”

“And have you told Oberyn about all of this?”

“Yes - in passing,” you sighed lightly, “and he’s fervent in his request to keep things civil and let them go.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“No.”

“You should express this to him,” she took your cup and swirled the two drops of liquid around as she looked at the grit, making a small sound in the back of her throat, “the two of you will be able to work things out and see eye to eye.”

“He’s insistent.”

“And you shall be just as insistent back,” she suggest as you nodded, “make sure he knows that you do not want to let this go and that you want words at least. That you at least want to express your grief to your family.”

“And if he shall not agree?”

“Remember who you are,” she said softly, “before you became a wife, before you became a Martell. Remember your roots and that you are not to be trifled with. You were strong then too, and now you need to remember that. What were your words?”

“Before Our String.”

“What are your words now?”

“Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.”

“Remember those,” she took your hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, “remember that you are strong, with or without your husband. Don’t do things in haste either, but do not allow yourself or your feelings to get pushed around either.”

“I won’t,” you promised softly, “I am not just Oberyn’s wife, I am so much more than that. I will...I will have what I want.”

“Everything,” she whispered as she pushed the cup back at you and motioned for you to look inside, “everything you want will be yours.”

“Everything?” you whispered as you looked into the cup and tried to see what she was seeing. Your voice cracked slightly as you knew she meant so much more than just your issue with your family. I…”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you gave her a small smile as you pushed the cup back at her and cleared your throat to keep from crying, “I can’t...I have everything I want.”

“This world, here and back in your home, is strange and mysterious. Sometimes it is best not to question things and let them work out as they were intended,” she shrugged lightly as you felt as confused as ever, “have faith in yourself and the universe.”

“I have faith in things I know, things I can touch and see,” you shrugged lightly, “I don’t know about the rest.”

“Exactly,” she stood up as she gathered your cup and hers, “we don’t know and perhaps we’re not supposed to.

“I don’t understand…”

“Mama!” Acacia poked her into the shop and offered you both a gap toothed grin. You stood up and brushed off your dress before walking towards the door. You gave the young girl a small hug before turning back to her mother.

“Thank you,” you told her softly, “I realize I still don’t know most things, but I do know some. I do know I love my husband and I will go to the ends of the world for him, but I also know I refuse to let things go without a fight.”

“You are well on your way, young one,” she insists as you give her a smile, “things happen as they are supposed to.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “thank you for your help.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Oberyn!” by the time you reached the small villa you were staying in, Oberyn had already been back for some time and he was sitting out in the garden, a book perched on his lap as there often was. He didn’t even hesitate to close it and toss it onto the table as you rushed over to him, throwing yourself in his arms as he stood up to meet you, “my love.”

“You are very energetic this afternoon,” he beamed as he picked you up in his arms and spun you around gently setting you and offering you another kiss, “did you have a good day?”

“I missed you,” you told him, reaching up and threading a hand through his curls, “I always miss you when you’re not with me. But yes, I did. I have a very eventful afternoon. How was...business?”

“Business as always was...business. Nothing terribly exciting, and as always my day would have been better at your side,” he touched your cheek gently, “was the market nice?”

“Very,” you promised, “Oberyn, you know I love you more than anything, right?”

“Of course,” he gave you a curious look as one of his eyebrows perked up, “you have never given me a single reason to doubt that. And I feel the same, of course. Tell me, what brings about this sudden declaration?”

“I want you to know. That no matter what ever happens, silly disagreements and bickering, should they happen, you will always be my moon and stars,” you told him and a mildly concerned expression crossed his features, “there’s nothing to worry about my love. But I also...we need to talk.”

“And whatever is so serious that it requires this level of commitment to speaking?”

“I think you know, Oberyn,” you put your hands on his shoulders, “we’ve ignored the issue since it came up and passed, and I...I don’t think I’ve had my fair say.”

“The issue is over and done,” he immediately picked up on what you were talking about, “there’s no reason to dwell on things that are over and done with.”

“That’s just it, it’s not done,” you insisted softly, “not to me. Oberyn, please just listen to me and hear me out…”

“No,” it was a firm statement, laced with a sharp bite as he stared firmly into your eyes. It was the first time he had ever said it to you in such a manner, “this is over and you....we are letting it go.”

“Oberyn,” you pulled back and gave him a hurt expression, one that immediately caused him to regret his decision to speak in even a likely harsh tone, “I...we should be able to talk about this…”

“I respect that you have feelings about this, and that they differ from mine,” he promised, “but I don’t think you understand the gravitas of acting upon what happened.”

“I do too! They hurt you, Oberyn. They were going to kill you!”

“And they didn’t,” he held up his hand as if trying to end the conversation then and there, “I know it’s hard to accept, but sometimes inaction is the best response.”

“It’s not...no. I understand exactly what you’re saying, but I don’t think doing nothing is the right response.”

“No,” it was harsh and final, “you are but a child when it comes to affairs of the kind! You know nothing about them. We are not going to do anything and that is final. You will listen to what I say and we are not discussing this further.”

“Oberyn…” you blinked at him a few times, trying to keep your tears from spilling over. He’d never yelled at you before. He let out a long, heavy sigh as he looked at the ground, already angry that he had spoken to you in such a manner The last thing he ever wanted was for you to cry because of him. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as you turned away from him with a small nod, “okay. I understand…”

“Sunshine,” it was soft, reverent whisper as he reached for your hand. But this time, for the first time, you didn’t let him take it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in such a manner.”

“It is no matter,” you lied as your lips trembled with cries that you tried to keep quiet, “like you said, I don’t understand these matters. I am but a child and don’t understand these types of things. “

“Please, my sweet girl, listen to me-”

“I’ll see you at dinner, Oberyn.”

With that you walked away from him, hastily wiping at your eyes as he stared after you, unsure of what to do. His shoulders slumped as he regretted every word. He only wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harshness of the world, and yet he was the one that had hurt you.

That was going to be the first and last time, he quickly decided, he’d make sure there was never a single tear from you ever again.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #in name only #ino #got

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mc-tummy-blur · 3 years ago

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@ruestew here’s part two of the ask! Again I’ll try to be as concise with my reasoning as possible.

*Honestly I feel like I didn’t do enough justice in explaining how I feel about The Narrator. I probably need to dedicate a week of my time to create like, and essay about him because I feel like I got a lot more to say about him

My thoughts expanded under “read more”

“They are soooooo cool looking sounding”— Yeah he’s a disembodied voice and doesn't actually have a physical form, but Kevan does fantastic job in his voice work. He sells it so well in his deliveries, you can just feel when he’s having a good time, or when he’s distraught or scared, or furious at the situation. There’s so much range in his voice performance, and it does make The Narrator seem…real. And that alone, makes him cool looking sounding to me.

“They are deeper than they seem”— The game clearly shows us that The Narrator is extremely complex, both in the OG and UD (though it’s WAY more expanded upon in Ultra Deluxe). In the OG, he desperately wants the player to play the story in the way that HE wanted you to play it (Freedom Ending). But, he makes other options that lead to a variety of endings, yet still hopes that you choose “correctly”. Probably in order to give the illusion to the player that “Yes, your choices do matter and you do have free will.” (Which, while is probably not a new hot take, it is completely ironic to think about. As TSP literally consists of you trying to free yourself from The Narrators preferred path, but he wont allow it, even though his correct ending he made is about us trying to make our own choices for once and free ourselves from the machine). In the UD, he’s stuck in the past, thinking that his work IS perfect and loved by everybody (which to be fair, TSP pretty much is). But when he learns that there are people who don’t like it, it takes him on a downward spiral mentally, and arguably creatively. He thinks he has to cave into trying to create work for and audience that love the OG, and for an audience that wanted things such as gags or ways that make them feel comfortable about the games meta narrative. The result is that he made something that, in actuality, didn’t need to be made. But he felt like he needed too, in order to show others (and himself) that his work hasn’t dropped in quality and is on par, if not even better than the first. That his story means something and that by just adding the stuff that he thinks he needs to add, will make more people see what the meaning is.

“Wow! They are a horrible person”/“They’ve never done anything wrong in their life <33”/“Wow… They are literally me!— He is literally fine with killing off Stanley/The Player at any given point (and even mock them as they die). He will belittle Stanley/The Player when they don’t follow the story or break the game in some way. Yet also wants to try to make Stanley/The Player/Fans happy. He wants to give them some sort of control over the game. Specifically, in UD, even though he encountered a few negative feedbacks, he instantly wants to give those fans what they want. Also, him struggling with trying to make something perfect in his eyes while also trying to please the masses in some way, and him having the intense fear of being alone and that he needs his work to be heard is justtt,,,, man. It’s something that makes me feel bad, and it some areas, I do relate to it a whole lot (at least with wanting to be heard in some way).

“They work better as part of a dynamic”— Do I even need to explain why he should NOT be separated from Stanley/The Player at any point though seeing how he reacts to being alone definitely is an eye opener to his character that was only barely touched on in the OG, with that ending where you see Stanley not moving (dunno the ending name to that).

“They’re like a blorbo to me”/I’m mentally ill about them”— See points above

#the stanley parable ultra deluxe #the stanley parable #tsp the narrator #mcaskitn’answer #its actually sickening on how many thoughts I have about his character what he means his motives etc #like I still need to sit down and think about it more #cause I know I could say more about him i know I could but i just need more time #but I dont want this ask to go unanswered for long so here you get my current thoughts/opinions on him now

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

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𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓶: 𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹𝙺

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚄

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

I breathed out an airy and desolate sigh through my nose, obviously I unconsciously did it a little too loud as the raven haired male sitting across from me looked down at the floor.

"It was all my fault.....wasn't it?"

I looked up, the glasses sitting on my nose bridge tilting slightly that I had to push them back up so I could study his features, or should I say, his expressions. His eyelids never blinked once, his eyes were trained on the pattern of the carpet underneath him, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. I looked with pity at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, some of the edges stained with fresh blood. I gulped slightly, my stomach threatening to spill out my meager lunch of an apple and avocado toast slice from earlier. I could handle hearing patients tell and retell me about how they stabbed their parents to death, cut off their significant other's genitals because they were unloyal to them, even tackled a deranged lunatic that once tried to...... seduce me to put mildly.......

But to this day, I can't help but get dizzy when I treat or deal with patients who are self harming victims, because yes, they are victims. Victims of their own self loathing, guilt, and depressive state that isn't their fault. It just pains me so much to see them resort to such drastic measures...

But I'm also not stupid and know some, if not most only do it for attention or to manipulate others, and Yunho is a case not far from it. Which is why I was the one sent to deal with him. All the other psychologists would have fallen for his sad puppy eyes, good looks, well built physique and would have released him too early into the world. Not that he's dangerous and a threat to society, but he's not emotionally nor mentally stable to go deal with daily life yet. And I'm not a softie by any means even if I'm patient and meek doctor when necessary. But I'm objective and I seek deeper into the true person hiding behind the front they put in front of me.

"Do you believe it was your fault Yunho?" Usually one would get scolded for answering a question with a question, but I prefer this method in order to get my patients to reason and draw out their own conclusions......

And makes them pour out their true answers.

I watch Yunho ponder for a moment.

"It has to be- otherwise she wouldn't have...wouldn't have-"

He bites back a choked sob, teeth tightening and gritting against themselves as he fails to contain his tears. His hands cover his face as he begins to cry uncontrollably, desperate and heartwrenching wails resonating throughout the 4 walls keeping us company. Reaching for the purple plaid box on the coffee table between us, I take out a few tissues and stand up from my seat. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I whisper a 'here' to him. He thanks me, but since he's crying too hard no sound comes out his throat. For the next few minutes, he's blowing out his runny nose, all red just like his eyes from crying too hard. He's sniffling while trying to control his previous hyperventilating session. I want to hug him or at least give him a pat in the back. But I can't, I can only sit back and try to imagine the agony he's probably going through, try to put myself in his shoes as I dive deep into the event that got him here in the first place:

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Coming back from a trip to the store, Yunho momentarily looks around confused when he heard his baby daughter crying. Quickly putting the bags on the kitchen counter, he makes his way over to the nursery that adjoined the main bedroom. Calling out for his wife, he receives no response as he walks down the hallway. He calls once more for her but stops midway as he opens the slightly ajar door. His heart stops beating and his veins run cold as he stares into the lifeless body of his beloved wife hanging in the room, feeling as if the oxygen is being ripped out from his lungs, suffocating slowly.

As if sensing his agitation, his daughter's cries from the other room grow louder, so much that they raise concern from their next door neighbor, a kind and sweet old lady who more than once has offered her help in watching over the child or help them out in any way she could. Typing in the passcode, she makes it there just in time to stop the tall male from inflicting more harm upon himself as he holds onto his wife's body in agony. Having been left with no choice, she immediately calls for an ambulance, who arrive there shortly and take him to a nearby hospital.

He was monitored 24/7 as he had a history of attempted suicide before. The nurses and doctors didn't want another episode to happen again, not wanting to leave a barely 1 year old fatherless as well as motherless. As an investigation went, police found a journal hidden deep between the mattresses on the bed. When they poured over the first pages, they knew there was much more to the story than just a doting husband who couldn't live without his wife, hence why he was relocated to the infamous asylum......

And a specialized woman was tasked to not only unmask the truth, but hopefully help a poor broken mind be put back together again.

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Hence why I'm here now, the folder I had read over and over again still on my lap. It honestly amazed me that I'd actually get to work on a case like this, and of course I took up the challenge of digging into a mind like Yunho's, not just to help him, but to leave a precedent for any other situations like this that came after.

"A precedent?" I remember the officer asking me.

"Yes. You'd be surprised just how common these types of toxic relationships there are in an everyday basis yet no one ever looks deeper because they're too focused treating a depressed person who's trying to kill themselves and don't focus on what they really are...."

Shutting the folder, I tucked it under my arm before turning on my heel.

"A manipulative individual who'll do anything to keep someone tied to them forever."

That's how I viewed Yunho, it's how I should be viewing him. At least until I could hopefully get him to change.

"How's......is my daughter ok?"

I let out a soft hum and nod as I scribbled something down on the notepad.

"She's fine. We're having someone take care of her in the meantime, don't worry."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, fingers fidgeting against his thighs as he mustered up the courage to say something.

"Could I.....could I please see her?"

From the sad look in my eyes he could already tell the answer was negative.

"I'm sorry Yunho....I'm afraid until we see some improvement, we can't allow you to be reunited with her just yet."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I said that, bracing myself to possibly see him breakdown once more. He had already lost his wife and now learning that his only child was forced away from him could possibly send him spiraling down into another episode.

But Yunho instead took a deep breath and seemed calm.

"I understand.....it's ok..." I knew he was saying those last two words more to himself than to me.

Lifting his face up, he suddenly shocked me by looking so bright and rather happy.

"So I guess it's best if we begin right?"

Even to this day, I don't know whether I should have been delighted to have such a compliant patient.....

Or terrified.

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"Tell me Yunho, what was your first reaction when you saw your wife?"

A subtle hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"I thought she was the kindest and most caring person in the world, very pretty too. She just walked in and the room instantly lit up."

He was reminiscing about those times, I could tell. That fond look on his face was unmistakable.

"Do you believe you fell in love at first sight with her?"

His smile suddenly dissipated, eyebrows scrunching together as if recollecting memories from so long ago.

"I think.......I felt attracted to her.....but.....I don't think it was love?"

I could tell he felt conflicted with himself, but that's exactly what I wanted. I want him to question every feeling and sensation he felt at the moment so he could decide for himself if it was real or just a mere illusion he held. If he starts to second guess or question what he felt then he'd start reasoning and come to the conclusion that what he felt was wrong and mistaken. He'd see that his actions weren't justified.

"So when do you truly believe you fell in love with her?"

I stopped writing on my notepad and watched him close his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the exact time he felt whatever he thought was love.

"One night....one of our friends was feeling down in spirits. I witnessed how caring she was towards them...kindly reassuring them that they were loved, that they mattered. I vividly remember her kind eyes and loving smile as she comforted them. Then it hit me that she was that kind of person. Selfless, caring, doting, would sacrifice anything for her friends and family...... it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with her."

He turned his hand over, studying the wedding ring that he still wore to this day, the engravings of their initials being his prime interest.

"And at that moment I knew I had to have her. I couldn't let anyone else have her. I wanted her.... that love, compassion, empathy..her confidence and strong nature, I wanted-"

He stopped mid sentence and his eyes wizened in horror as he came to the realization I had foreseen long ago. He looked up at me, meeting my unwavering eyes that held no emotion at that moment.

"She had all the qualities I had always lacked in."

I took my glasses off and nodded.

"And I unconsciously wanted them for myself.... but the only way I could have them was...through her?" He seemed sickened with himself.

"Not exactly Yunho. You could have learnt to love yourself and raise your self esteem." I quickly scribbled my observation down.

"But I didn't. Instead I caged her up and slowly tore her down."

I couldn't help but let out an involuntary smile as he drew out that conclusion.

"Glad to know you've accepted that fact, even if it took several months for you to understand."

Shutting the notepad, I lifted myself up from my chair, straightening my blouse. Yunho followed suit.

"Is our session over?" He was always so polite, always escorting me out and holding the door open for me, which other doctors would have adamantly refused, too scared to come close to their patients. But not me. I let them have certain liberties at times.

"Not yet Yunho. As you've made remarkable progress, I got permission for you to see someone."

He was momentarily confused for a split second. Poor thing probably thought it was one of the nurses coming in to give him some new medication to take, which he hated with a passion. Stepping outside for a brief moment, I happily took the young baby in my arms, the little girl already used to seeing me as I always went to go see her after being with Yunho for a few hours. When I came back inside he had his back turned to me, once again staring off into nowhere. The light gurgled babbles the baby emitted caught his attention immediately. He whipped his head around so fast I thought he'd break his neck for a second. He teared up as the child began squealing in excitement as she recognized her father right away.

"Oh my-" He choked up with tears that he couldn't finish his sentence.

I calmly walked over to him, lightly bouncing the baby in my arms. Yunho hesitantly reached his hands out.

"Can I..?" He had such a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I didn't answer, I merely held his daughter out to him. As soon as she felt his embrace, she latched onto him as if he was one of the teddy bears she often slept with. Perhaps he was one.

No....he is one.

In my time of spending time with Yunho, I've come to strongly believe he is a sweet and tender individual. And judging by the way the little girl feels safe in his arms, I do believe he is capable of being truly loved.....

If he learns how to properly love not just someone else, but himself too.

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Stepping out of my car, I quickly grab the small pink bag on the passenger seat before locking it. Treading through the small patch of green grass, I ring the doorbell and wait for one of the occupants to open up for me. No surprise, I'm greeted by the same raven haired male I met nearly 3 years ago. He looks delighted to see me.

"Y/N. Hi!"

I wave at him, a small but genuine smile on my features.

"Hi Yunho. Did I come at a bad time?" I notice the apron covered in flour and leftover egg on it.

"Oh no not at all. Please come in."

Moving aside to let me pass, my nose catches the scent of baked goods filling the air. I can distinctly recognize the hints of lavender and french vanilla, an odd but surprisingly tasty combination. I spot out of the corner of my eye a little head peeking out from the kitchen, curious to know who had come to pay them a visit. Letting out a squeal, she quickly ran over to attach herself on my leg.

"Y/N!"

I chuckled and lightly run my fingers through her hair which was longer than the last time I saw it.

"Hi Jina, I see you've been baking something." We both chuckle as I scraped off some cake batter that had gotten on the tip of her button nose.

"Me and dad are making cupcakes for my friend's birthday party tomorrow." She explained.

"Wow that's a really nice gesture. I bet they'll turn out delicious."

Remembering that I was short on time and that I had one last task to carry out, I pull out the bag I had hidden behind my back and hand it to her.

"It's for you."

Her eyes began to sparkle so much they could rival all the stars in the galaxy. After thanking me like 20 thousand times, she plopped her tiny body on the couch to tear into the contents inside it. I shake my head before taking out a small paper from inside my trench coat.

"And this is for you."

Taking the slip from my fingers, Yunho opens it up and scans what it says. He seems confused for a moment, not fully understanding what it means. He looks to me once more, probably for the last time, asking for an explanation.

"It's your official release from the institution. No more drop in visits, no more eyes on you 24/7, and soon you won't have to continue with the prescribed medication, although when that happens they will send someone once in a while to check up and make sure you're ok without them."

Yunho nods but it is a rather sad and pained nod.

"So this means you won't be seeing us any longer?"

I inhale deeply and nod.

"This was a temporary thing until you got better Yunho. After all....I was only the doctor assigned to you."

It hurt me to say that as much as it probably hurt him, as much as it'd hurt Jina to know I wouldn't be coming back anymore.

"Can't we at least be friends?"

I hated seeing those puppy eyes of him practically beg me, signature trait he passed on to his daughter.

"That would be completely unprofessional of my part Yunho. I deeply cherish and treasure all the time we spent together and I'm beyond happy and satisfied that you've come so far since the start of our journey..."

I sighed deeply.

"But every journey has an end." He finished my sentence.

Extending his hand out to me, I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm really going to miss you." He admitted.

"Me too. Me too."

Going over to the momentarily forgotten 4 year old, she let out an 'oof' when she suddenly found herself cooped up in my embrace.

"Take care of yourself and of your dad ok?"

I kissed the top of her head, her grinning face not registering that this might be the last time she ever saw me. Yunho walked me out the door and even escorted me all the way to my car. Always the gentleman, he held the door open for me. Before I could even get one foot inside, I felt a large hand grip my wrist. Turning to him, I was flustered when he suddenly pulled me close to him.

"Please don't leave. I need you....I..."

He looked conflicted with himself as he tried to finish his words. Taking a deep breath, he confessed:

"I love you."

My heart sank. He said the 3 words I hoped he'd never direct at me. Mainly because I was scared as he was. Don't get me wrong, Yunho is a wonderful man, and he truly deserves to be loved....

But am I certain that he has finally learned to love? Or is it because he feels he needs me?........

Only one way to find out.

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celticcrossanon · 3 years ago

Note

I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

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docgold13 · 4 years ago

Photo

This is in response to the process ask I just received…

Above is the finished product of a creeper from Scooby Doo I made a whiles back. The character was designed by the wonderful Alex Toth. Toth is a great illustrator to try to mimic in cut-out form because he illustrated for animation and, as such, was very economical in his line use. So the first step is that don’t use crisper. I’m sure the technology will improve with subsequent iterations, but from what I can tell the shapes it creates are really static. What I prefer to do is draw the images in pencil or straight on with an exacto knife. I’m not the best at drawing, but often the groove of the paper will help in offering up a more confident looking line.

Then I’ll use black paper to stand in as the border lines. I’ll cut out the spaces the layer underneath, like the dude’s mouth and eyeballs.

Some white paper taped to the opposite side works as the white of his eyes and teeth. Then I double side tape the piece to the paper, lining up the eyes and mouth and cut it out leaving a small margin between the green of his skin and the black of his facial outline.

Now that you got the dude’s face, the rest is easy. I used a different color green for his cloak… sketched a rough outline of it and then cut. Double sided matting tape is good for an elevated three D kind of look. Again I leave a small margin between the boarder of the green and the black to create the illusion of an illustrated line.

His hat and hair are just separate pieces I drew with a knife and then double sided taped to black paper. Knowing that his hat would cover much of the hair, I just drew what parts would show from the hat on either side of his head.

Again this takes some degree of drawing skill, but once you get used to it, the knife blade really helps in keeping the line looking confident and crisp.

This is my favorite part. Will the individual piece cut out, it becomes a rudimentary puzzle to be put together

Again, I like the double sided mounting tape… it has like a foam basis that gives good lift off the paper, helping to create a quasi-3-D like effect.

Take your time taping the pieces together. It’s all about layering and making key choices of what parts are covered by the other pieces and which ones aren’t. I use my iPhone to photograph it. A plain colored piece of paper works, or you can print out whatever background image you like. Something it helps to place a lego or eraser under the main piece to lift it off the background. This will cause a neat shadowing effect if you angle your light source. I recommend starting off with simple, less detailed pieces and then moving on to more detail. I don’t fancy myself any great artist, but I often feel hand done things look better than computer assisted stuff. Maybe one day I’ll try out crisper, but for the time being I feel not her beats the meditative quality of working with one’s hands. Please let me know if you have any further questions, good luck and be safe handling those exacto knives.

#ask docgold13 a question #process #cut-out #paper art #Scooby-Doo

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i-am-bella-donna · 3 years ago

Text

A Truth Amidst the Lies

AO3

Story Summary:

If there was one thing Remus had learned from Janus, it was that all good stories had a bit of truth amidst the lies.

The daydream about Nico he made for Thomas was no exception.

"If you don't get rid of me…I'm gonna get rid of you."

Pairings: Platonic Dukexiety

Word Count: 2,104

CONTENT WARNINGS: ARGUING, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, THREATS

A/N: This was inspired by Remus's illusion of Nico in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts.

~~~

“Virgil?”

Virgil froze like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler flying down an icy road. His silhouette was so dark it was barely visible, even against the faint white glow of the door before him. Odd—Virgil had to have passed the light switch on his way into the room. Why was he standing alone in the pitch-black silence?

There was a quick flash of motion, but before Remus could think too much of it, Virgil swallowed audibly and began to turn around, moving so slowly it was almost comical.

Almost.

His actions were cumbersome, as though he was walking through a sea of viscous blood. As though he was holding himself stiffly to prevent himself from trembling.

As though he was afraid.

Afraid…of Remus?

No. Don’t think about that.

Remus swallowed hard, shoving the thought down like a head underwater. He imagined drowning it; holding it in place until no more bubbles and frantic whispers could escape its lips; until the splashing and flailing stopped. Until it could do no more damage. Janus and Virgil had been helping him learn to control his thoughts, and he was finally getting better at it— rationalization, Jay had called it.

Besides, now that he was thinking logically, it made much less sense. What reason would Virgil have to be afraid of him?

“Remus,” Virgil finally replied, breaking the awkward silence. “I—why are you still awake?”

His voice held an unfamiliar quality—an odd note that, under any other circumstances, would immediately have Remus on high alert. Nevertheless, Remus was already aching from hours of tossing and turning; reeling from the mental images plaguing his imagination—not the fun type of mental images, either—so he shrugged off the tone, assuming that Virgil was simply as angsty and tired as he was. It would not be the first time.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Remus cheered, hopefully sounding more enthusiastic than he felt. He rubbed at his eyes, realizing a moment too late that he was probably smearing his eyeshadow in the process. Unless he had remembered to take it off before bed—but no, that was about as likely as Roman giving him a hug.

Shaking off that train of thought before it could derail and crash and burn, Remus shot Virgil a weary grin. “And I could ask you the same thing!” he added. “What’re you doing up so late, Emo? Battling the brain demons?”

From the way that his silhouette shifted, Remus assumed that Virgil was now crossing his arms. Probably also burning holes into Remus’s skull with his signature Remus-please-shut-up glare. “It doesn’t matter,” Virgil muttered. “And fine—whatever you’re doing doesn’t matter, either, then. Just go back to bed.”

“Only if you come with me,” Remus teased, relaxing as they fell into a routine of familiar banter. It was tradition for the three Dark Sides to sleep together—not in that way—whenever their mental states became shit—when Remus found his thoughts growing too dark for comfort; when Vee was terrified and could not catch his breath; when Jay got lost in his own lies. Despite his lighthearted tone, Remus’s offer was serious. If Virgil joined him, maybe they could get enough sleep to avoid having the Self-Care Snake on their tails.

Any other time, Virgil would have smiled gratefully and nodded, possibly bickering with Remus over whether they should stay in one of their rooms or ambush Janus in his. If he was calm, he would still offer a comforting presence and a listening ear, sitting Remus down with a mug of his famous hot chocolate—absolute perfection in a way neither Remus nor Janus could replicate. No matter the circumstances, though, there was no way that Virgil would simply scoff and turn away when Remus was so obviously in distress.

At least…not until tonight.

“Really, Remus?” Virgil snapped. The odd quality in his voice only seemed to grow, enveloping his words like flames in a dry forest. “Just go to sleep or something. I don’t have time for your games.” Remus could hear him muttering under his breath; something about so needy and just grow up.

Remus swallowed hard at his words, unnerved by the abrupt change in the tone of the conversation—and that was saying something. Remus was never unnerved. All his nerves were—unfortunately—in his body where they belonged.

Nevertheless, he paused and forced himself to take a deep breath, exactly the way Virgil had once taught him. Now was not the time to jump to conclusions. It was not unheard of for Virgil to become snappy when he was especially worried. Maybe he was just having a really bad night, in which case Serious Remus would need to handle the situation; possibly even wake Janus. Regardless, he assured himself that he did not need to take the attitude personally—not when Virgil had spent so much time assuring Remus that he would never leave. Remus did not need to be afraid; he just needed to comfort Virgil.

“Scare Bear?” he asked. “Something bothering you? We can cuddle and talk about it.” He conjured up a fuzzy purple blanket and shot Virgil what he hoped was a reassuring smile, not that Virgil could see either in the dark.

Virgil let out a low, growl-like noise that made the hairs on the back of Remus’s neck stand up. “Just leave me alone, for fuck’s sake!” he all but hissed. “Wake up Janus if you really can’t handle your own goddamn thoughts, but leave—me��alone!”

Remus startled at the sudden use of Tempest Tongue, ice settling in the pit of his stomach.

Shit.

“Vee, I’m turning on the light.”

“No—”

Light flooded the room—do you think your eyes will burn out of their sockets?—and washed over every shadow, nook, and cranny. Remus froze when he caught sight of the other—specifically, of the red eyes, shaking hands, and eyeshadow trails on his cheeks.

Oh fuck, what happened?!

His concern skyrocketed, guilt flooding his body with every beat of his heart. Virgil had not left his room for lunch or dinner—had he been trapped in there by his own terror? Had he felt like he couldn’t go to Remus and Janus for help?

“Vee?” Remus tried frantically. “What—”

“Shut up!” Virgil snarled. “Can’t you take a fucking hint?! Can’t you mind your own business for once?!”

Remus gulped at the new direction of the conversation. He opened his mouth to say—well, he was not exactly sure what he was going to say—when his eyes took in Virgil’s position. The way he was angled toward the very door that most of them avoided; the way he was almost comfortable to be bathing in its light. In Remus’s recent memory, a dark flurry of movement melted into a hand, yanking itself away from the doorknob.

…No.

No, no, no.

Surely, surely this was just a side effect of Remus’s own thoughts. Surely he was jumping to conclusions.

When in doubt, ask questions, Janus’s voice reminded him. Virgil and I never mind providing a bit of reassurance.

Yeah. Ask. That would be simple enough.

“…Virgil?” Remus piped up, unconsciously fidgeting with his fingers. “You aren’t…you aren’t leaving us, are you?” He probably isn’t. It’s just your imagination—

“Obviously, stupid!”

What.

His heart thrashed inside his chest, his eyes stung, and against all his good judgement, Remus…laughed. “You—you can't be serious!” he giggled, not amused in the slightest. He was distantly aware of a buzzing noise in his ears, but he paid it no heed. “Like—like, you promised to never leave us, so you have to be joking, because none of us ever break our promises to each other!” His breaths were too shallow; too quick.

Virgil let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, like how Deceit promised that we would never be accepted by Thomas? Like how you promised that the only way to be heard was to scare them into submission?” His hands drew into tight fists. Remus winced at the mental image of those very fists painting a patchwork of purple bruises on his flesh. It would not be the first time, but there was a large difference between controlled sparring matches and genuine brawls. “You made me believe that I was hopeless! Do you even know what I did?!”

Before Remus could muster some semblance of an answer, Virgil scoffed and answered his own question. “Of course you don’t!” he screamed, the noise causing Remus to freeze in his tracks. “Because you and damn Snake Face are too caught up in your own heads to pay attention to anything!”

Distantly, Remus thought that it was probably lucky that Janus was such a heavy sleeper.

“So, yeah, I am leaving, because you know what? I actually got accepted! I’m not like you!”

Not like you.

Remus swallowed and took a step back, finally registering the note in Virgil’s voice.

Hatred.

He hates you.

…This time, Remus did not think he could dispute the thought.

“You…you aren’t even going to visit?” was all he managed to get out. This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this cannot be fucking real—

“Why would I?” Virgil spat. “You really don’t get it, do you?! What the three of us had? Whatever fake family we made up? It—is—done.”

“No—no, it can’t be!” Remus insisted. He sounded almost hysterical, even to his own ears. “You—you can’t leave! Not if I don’t let you!” He did not realize he was summoning his morning star until he heard the clang of the spikes against the floor. Even so, he did not understand why he had done so. It was not like he was actually going to use it.

Virgil, however, had different ideas.

With a snap of his fingers, the room plunged back into total darkness.

Virgil let out a wicked laugh, Tempest Tongue vanishing as his eyes glistened with a deep violet gleam that joined the glow of the door as the only source of light in the room.

“Really, Remus?” he hissed, and when had he summoned a dagger— "Is this really how you want to do this?"

Bile rose in Remus’s throat as images of blood, smeared all over the floor and dripping down the walls, filled his mind. Virgil was not one to bullshit, and with the force of a baby bird slamming headfirst into a glass panel, he realized that there was a very real chance of things getting physical.

Remus swallowed a lump as an old memory resurfaced, playing like a movie in his mind.

“All right,” Janus had said, narrowing his eyes at Remus and Virgil. “Just—please remember: even though we’re learning to fight, no matter how angry we get, we will never use these skills against one another. Our arguments will never get physical. Promise me?”

“Isn’t that obvious, Jay-nus? I love blood, as long as it’s not your blood.”

“Humor me and promise, you octopus.”

“Well, duh! Of course I promise, Snakey!”

“And you, Virgil?”

“I promise too. Obviously.”

Remus swallowed. I’m sorry, Janus. It looked like Virgil might not be the only Side breaking his promises tonight.

This was not going to be their usual sparring.

“Vee, I don’t understand what’s going on, but—”

“What?!” Virgil snarled, voice so deeply drenched with that odd quality—with hatred—that Remus actually took a startled step back. “What do you want?! God—you are so annoying.”

Annoying.

“I was just being nice. Why don’t you leave—me—alone?! Take a hint!” Virgil’s eyes glowed brighter. “You’re embarrassing—from the moment I met you.”

Embarrassing.

Was…was it all a lie?

But Janus would have known, right?

Unless….

Was Janus in on this, too?

Remus was sure that even the Light Sides could hear his heart snapping in two.

Virgil raised the dagger, his expression calm but cruel as the dark blade glistened. “If you don’t get rid of me…I’m gonna get rid of you.”

Remus watched in silence, dizzy from the rapid-fire beating of his heart. His mouth was desert-dry and his eyes were burning—

And suddenly, he could only watch as Virgil lowered the knife, scoffing at Remus’s tense form. “That’s what I thought, Duke.”

With a snap of his fingers, the room was illuminated once more and his knife was gone. A hand settled once more on the doorknob, Virgil’s form aligning perfectly with the silhouette that Remus remembered. Virgil shot a loathing look over his shoulder. “Give Deceit my worst regards.”

Without as much as a second glance, Virgil stepped through the door and slammed it behind himself, the force causing a nearby picture frame to fall off the wall and shatter.

And with it went any faith that Remus had once placed in his family.

~~~

A/N: Apologies for the angst.

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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

Text

Nemesis - Choose Your Own Whump 2

With A receiving the most votes on my last post, for this adventure we are going with a drugged Villain whumpee. Sorry about the generic name for this one, I really couldn’t think of anything else ^^

I hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone for replying to the last post! As always, votes can be sent in through any method you want. Comments, asks, and PMs are all just fine. I’ll see it!

CW//Falling off a building, hostage situations, shapeshifting, medical abuse, extensive talk of sedatives, brief mention of a needle

Please note that the third scene of this piece is from the point of view of a drugged character, and thus the scene has some aspects that could be described as unreality. Please skip this scene if this would make you uncomfortable.

The video was grainy.

It was always grainy. That was the strange thing about it-- everyone carried around miniature computers in their pockets, equipped with tiny cameras that would have rivaled the most powerful devices of years prior. Any civilian could take a 4k quality video on some social media, but the moment anything actually important was happening, technology seemed to regress twenty years.

Hero supposed it didn’t matter. Their memory of the incident was certainly clear as day, better than any camera could ever capture.

And yet...

They clicked a button on the remote, and the clip restarted.

The sides of the screen were blocked out in fuzzy grey-- the video having been taken through the bars of a metal fence. Between them, the camera focused at first on the foot of a brown brick building, before panning upwards, only stopping upon reaching the roof. It took a moment for the visual to adjust, focusing against the glare of the sun overhead.

Two figures, on the building’s roof. Two figures seen so often together, in so many similar videos.

The standoff had taken from dawn till sunset. How Villain had gotten into the building unnoticed had yet to be fully understood, but, regardless of method, they wasted little time in taking hostage a group of professors, eating lunch together. A single one had been released, bringing with them a message:

“Everyone leaves. No one comes in. Everyone stays outside the fence.”

It had seemed like a trap, at first. Of course it had. It wouldn’t be the first time that Villain had played such a trick. After much debating, however, evacuation was deemed to be the best option, and the campus was soon barren.

The hours afterwards had been as long and hot as they had been nerve-wracking. The very thought of following orders from Villain made Hero’s stomach twist, but their orders were incredibly clear: Don’t do anything stupid.

It was an incredibly difficult order to follow.

Establishing a line of communication had been the hardest part. Villain had quickly disconnected any security cameras in the vicinity, alongside confiscating any technology their hostages might have held.

In the end, it was decided that a reporter would be the one to go in. One of the most recognizable faces in the city, and one that was neutral. Not fighting for either side, but representing the citizenry.

The whole plan bet on one fact: That the shapeshifting Hero could pull of the imitation.

It worked. At least, it worked for as long as it needed to. Villain accepted the olive branch, and allowed the supposed reporter to enter unharmed.

Of course, the illusion broke as soon as Hero opened their mouth. No matter how good they were at changing their shape, it did not change their voice. In the brief moment of confusion, the hostages had managed to make their escape.

Leaving only the two nemeses, and the building as their battlefield.

It was hard to remember the fight. They had waged so many battles against one another, they all seemed to blend together, at one point or another. There was broken glass, pushed over tables, exploding equipment, and then-

And then they were on the roof.

Villain was stupid, but they weren’t, well, they weren’t stupid. They may have had the moral compass of a kleptomaniac feline, and the brain cells to match, but they had common sense. A sense of self-preservation.

Forcing them to the edge of the roof... it was supposed to be like pushing them to a corner. Trapping them.

In the video, the two figures danced. Forward, and back, until one took the lead. Until they were up against the edge, with nowhere left to go.

They were supposed to stop. They weren’t supposed to fall.

They stopped their own fall, or at least they tried. They were telekinetic. Of course they did. But they were surprised, or confused, or, or something. They slowed themself down. But they did not stop. The force with which they struck the concrete parking lot below was more than enough to knock them out.

The video ended.

And... that was it. The end. Years and years of battles, some won, some lost, all ended. They should have been happy, and they were! They hated Villain, sincerely and truly hated them.

But no other villain fought like them. No other villain had their tongue, their wit. Their skill. Their fight.

Villain’s defeat should have been epic! The ultimate confrontation of good and evil, of chaos, and order.

Yet, their downfall was a simple trip.

In the corner of Hero’s TV screen, small white text helpfully reported to them just when that video had been recorded.

One year ago.

One year, since that day. Since Villain’s downfall. And now...

Hero’s phone buzzed. A text message. The confirmation of a meeting.

One whole year, and still, Hero’s mind was consumed by their lost nemesis.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The diner was terribly busy, and yet, when Hacker walked through the door, Hero had no doubts as to their identity.

Despite their rather stereotypical appearance, there was nothing about the person’s manner that would have indicated the sheer amount of time they spent behind a computer screen. They greeted the receptionist, pointed to Hero, and exchanged a few words beyond that. With a smile, then, they parted, and made their way to Hero’s table.

Their manner only seemed strange when they sat down, and Hero noted that the way they smiled seemed to pain them.

“Is this seriously what you people act like?” They hissed through bared teeth. “Can I stop smiling now? Or will they look at me weird?”

“They’re already looking at you weird.”

“They are?”

“You- You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh thank god.” Immediately, their expression fell into one far more analytic. Far less friendly. “I, uh, don’t get out much.”

“Really?” Hero raised a brow incredulously.

“I’ve got more important things to do than, uh, than going out. Anyways.” They stuck a hand outwards. It was partially covered by a fingerless glove. “I’m Hacker.”

“I figured.” Hero shook the offered hand. “I’m Hero, though I suppose you already know that.”

“You’d think people here would be, uh, a bit more in awe? It’s not everyday you get to eat in the same building as a superhero.”

“Keep your voice down, please.”

“Oh, sorry. Is it, like, a secret? You don’t have a secret identity, do you?”

“No. But when I’m out of costume, I’m not exactly that recognizable. So let’s keep it that way. Kapish?”

“Kapash. But, still, oh my god. This is so cool! A real life hero...”

“Yeah... Yeah. A real hero alright.”

A hero who could hardly focus during battle. A hero who infuriated their team leader more than they aided them.

“Anyways.” Hacker raised their head, a far more natural smile coming onto their face. “I have the... thing.”

“You mentioned that. It’s about Villain, right?”

“Mhm.”

The person across the booth leaned down, prying a laptop from a carrying case and placing it atop the table. It was a bulky thing, and as soon as it was turned on, the shrill sound of fans struggling not to overheat filled Hero’s head. Hacker clicked around a bit. They gripped the edges of the device, as if about to spin it around, before they stopped, frowning.

“It’s been a year now, hasn’t it?” They commented.

“Since Villain was captured. Yes. 374 days.”

“You remember?”

“Yes.”

“You miss them, don’t you?”

It was so direct. Hero couldn’t help but stutter:

“I don’t- Of course I don’t miss them. I hate them.”

Hacker looked up over the laptop screen to give them an incredulous look. It wasn’t a convincing lie.

“I don’t miss them.” Hero stood their ground. “But I want to make sure they’re contained.”

“I just... I don’t know if this is something you want to see. You’re trying to move on, and-”

“Show me it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If it’s something to do with their containment, I need to know about it. I can’t let them hurt anyone else.”

“Well, that’s not the problem here. If you’re sure.”

With a sigh, Hacker spun the computer around, so that it’s screen faced Hero.

They weren’t sure what they expected. Some kind of... deep web threat? A message from Villain? A copycat? An escape attempt?

But they didn’t get any of that. Instead, the screen displayed a simple PDF. Medical records. At the top, in bold letters and a rather ostentatious logo, the header read:

Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization

For the most part, the page was Greek to Hero. A slew of ID numbers and attending physicians with far too many acronyms following their names. What did make sense to them was the spreadsheet that made up most of the page, labelled:

Approved Daily Medication Dosage for Patient: Villain

The spreadsheet took up two pages with solid text. Hero did not recognize the medication names, of course, but they did not need to be a doctor to understand the entries written under the column labelled “Medication Purpose.”

Every single data cell, even as they scrolled to the bottom of the document, contained only one word. The same word.

Sedation

“This is...” Hero muttered, furrowing their brow. Scrolling up and down. This had to be wrong, somehow.

“I don’t understand most of it.” Hacker commented sheepishly. “But, uh, I have a few friends with some more medical knowledge than me. They’ve never seen anything like it. It’s more than enough medication to sedate a fucking elephant- sorry, excuse my language.”

“It’s fine.” The confusion in their voice was rapidly melting to fury.

“Even for major surgical procedures... nothing near this level would ever be used.”

“This has to be a mistake.” Hero shook their head. “A mix-up. Maybe it’s like... all the medications the facility ordered. And they just labelled it wrong.”

“Well, if it’s a mistake, they’ve been making the exact same one for an entire year. I’ve got 374 of these files. Newest one just got uploaded a few hours ago.”

“And they’re always the same?”

“With some minor dosage adjustments, but yes. That’s not, um, that’s not all of it.”

Hacker reached over, dragging the computer back so that it faced them again. There was more clicking this time, along with typing at a speed that made Hero’s fingers hurt, just to watch it.

When the laptop was spun back around, this time, it was a video.

A camera feed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Villain felt about to choke on their tongue.

It wasn’t a new feeling. More or less, it was the only thing they felt, anymore. That heavy block of muscle in their mouth, threatening at any moment to block throat choke air no air no-

They were losing their words again. Words... wordsssssss... Voices. Voices spoke words. Sometimes, they did. Sometimes they grumbled and muttered and sputtered and murmured like a car murmured. Cars... or was it cats? No, cats didn’t murmur. They purred. What else did they do? Not bark... no, barking too loud for cats. Cat go mew mew, real quiet like.

Cat’s meow, that is a cat’s voice. There were other voices, too. Quiet like cats. Two of them, two voices. They knew those voices, those were the doctors’ voices. The doctors liked to talk a lot. They talked, but they did not see. Or... no. They were not seen. Villain did not see them. They wanted to, but their eyes were broken. The engines in their eyelids would not run anymore, would not open the garage door, Sally!

One of the doctors’ voices got closer. A million miles away, a hand was laid upon Villain’s wrist, flipping over their hand so that their palm faced downward.

“Let’s move it.”

It was a silly thing to say. Nothing moved in this place. Nothing that Villain could see, as their eyes were broken.

“Is the other vein healed enough?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

Silly words... Villain wanted to laugh, but their muscles were firmly locked away behind a padlock.

“Okay.” The doctor sounded so sad. Why were they so sad? Villain’s mouth was full of soil. The doctor was tired. “I’ll get the rest of the medicines.”

“We’re going 30 milligrams up from yesterday on the Propofol.”

“Oh? Why?”

“They opened their eyes, yesterday.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hero felt sick. In the top right corner of the security footage, the same logo from the medical records was displayed. The Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization. Below it, a subtitle.

“Keeping the city safe.”

Was this safety? It shouldn’t have been. They had known, of course, what had happened to Villain after their capture and very brief hospital stay. It was what happened to all villains. They were sent to the rehab unit.

A therapy program. Helping villains to control their powers and reform their lives. To return them to the straight and narrow. But, now that Hero thought about it...

Villain was the only one who had never been released.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Tell someone about what is happening - Who should Hero tell? (They are on a small team, as well as part of a larger Organization, for reference.)

B.) Attempt a more direct approach. Visit Villain in the rehab program - Should Hero try to rescue Villain immediately?

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #hero villain whump #drugged whumpee #drugged villain #villain whumpee #hero villain prompt #choose your own whump #choose your own adventure #nemesis

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terrm9 · 4 years ago

Text

Father’s Day

Ethan makes sure to celebrate the Father’s Day with his daughter. (Ethan X Chiara X Matilda)

Words count: 4 000

Warnings: two swear words, fluff

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened here guys. I am so sorry, this fic lacks plot and point, depth, quality, this truly is one fluffy piece of shit. I had a good feeling about it when the idea appeared in my brain and then I started to write and nothing seemed right. And I just kept telling myself ‘just keep writing and it will start making sense. It will get better’... and suddenly the fic is finished and it still doesn’t make sense. I was so close to not posting it, but then I thought that sometimes mindless fluff can make my mood better and so maybe it can do some good to you too. Love you all and I promise I won’t be angry or hurt if you hate this:D

Also Ethan is ~47 in this fic, if you thought I wouldn't mention his graying hair, I am sorry but I did

Also also, I didn't find the strength needed for a proof reading this and so I didn't proof read it. If you see a mistake, please pretend you don't see it

The sun was long set at the time Ethan stepped into the apartment and even though he rationally knew that it was late, he couldn’t quite give up on his hope that maybe Matilda was still up. On the days like this, when more patients came in than out of the hospital and there was so much of a paperwork that he has to bring it home with him, there is nothing Ethan loved more than to put his daughter to sleep and then spend a nice quiet evening with Chiara.

But of course, Matilda was fast asleep – judging by the silence filling the whole apartment – and so Ethan was looking forward to skipping to the part of sharing an evening with his wife.

Chiara didn’t notice him as he stepped into the living room, her nose slightly crinkled as she was filling some papers spread on the dining table, white earpods in her ears.

Looks like I am not the only one to bring work home with me today.

Ethan stopped in his tracks for a moment, just inhaling the familiar scent of Chiara and home and absorbing the picture in front of him. Even after alsmot ten years since he met her for the first time, even though she was his wife now, someone he woke up next to every morning, Chiara still – always – managed to knock the air out of his lungs. How her smile only gained more brightness through the years and how she looked almost like a girl with her hair braided on one side.

Had he been an artist, he would call her his muse.

But he was just a man, a doctor with any artistic words stuck in his throat and so he just kept staring at Chiara and thought, inspiration, that’s what she was, because even the most rational of men could get inspired.

„I can feel you standing there,“ Chiara exclaimed suddenly, putting the earpods off and turning to him with that bright smile.

„My apologies,“ he smiled faintly and crossed the distance between them to give her, what Chiara called ‚a proper greeting‘. He kissed her softly and it only took the feeling of Chiara’s warm body under his hands to ease the tension in him almost completely.

„Matilda missed you tonight,“ Chiara murmured into his chest, not willing to break their embrance.

„As I missed her,“ Ethan sighed. „Did you have an eventful afternoon?“

Chiara chuckled at that, parting from him at last to switch her phone off and leave the work on the dining table.

„Just the usual. The teacher asked them to draw themselves in the future and she couldn’t decide which version of that future she should draw because she wants to be everything.“

Ethan could imagine the conversation very well. Matilda, at the age of five, knew exactly what she didn't want to become when she grows up - a doctor. She kept shifting between wishing to be a travel blogger like her aunt Kyra or a photographer like aunt Alicia. After a weekend spent in Providence, she proclaimed that she could also imagine being a cable repairwoman like grandpa, because grandpa has the coolest coworkers that came over and let her eat chocolate cookies and watch football with them. And if by any unfortunate coincidence she should become a doctor after all, she would definitely be a surgeon like uncle Bryce, because he actually cuts people and that's much more interesting than her parents' job. All they do is talk about the patients.

„I promised her you would take her to school tomorrow. You have rounds in the morning but I can taker over,“ which would only be a service for you, she thought to herself. „That would certainly make her feel better.“

„Was she that sad that I didn’t come home earlier?“

"Oh, she was more sad about the Father's Day program at her school – you know, the one where kids and their dads go together - but I explained her why you had to miss it."

Ethan furrowed his brows, confused for a while.

"Why do I have to miss it?" he asked as he picked Matilda's stuffed llama from the floor.

"It's the Wednesday when you are at the conference in Seattle."

Ethan put the toy on the couch next to Til's favourite blanket and sat down before responding, his voice carrying no sign of hesitation.

"If there's a Father's Day program at her school and she wants me to be there, I'll be there."

Ethan knew all too well why he was so persistent on being there.

He wished he didn’t know, but he did.

Because he knew what it felt like to spend so many of his Mother’s Days programms with his teeth gritted, wishing it could all just end.

He could still remember the first Mother’s Day without Luise, how his teacher walked into the class and told them that they would create nice postcards for their moms and how Ethan’s classmate pointed his finger at him and said: „And what is Ramsey going to do? It’s not fair that he doesn’t need to do anything for the whole hour.“

It was the first time Ethan punched someone.

There was no way, no way, that he would allow his daughter to feel any of those feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chiara, now sitting right next to him, a soft concern visible on her features.

„Alan and Naveen would go with her, you know. She wouldn’t be alone.“

„I am her father.“

„And you are also an author of the study this whole conference is going to be about.“

Ethan knew Chiara was right, just as he knew that she was doing this not because she didn’t want him to attend the programm, rather because she respected and supported his career.

But her arguments were of no use. Ethan’s mind was made up and he only wondered if this is what it felt like, all those years ago, when he pushed Chiara away in order to support her career. The idea of putting career first was making him uncomfortable and all he could do was to think, how did Chiara see it all those years ago?

Or rather, how did he not see it back then?

He had no answers, only his gratitude that she stayed and showed him the world through her eyes.

„Aurora is just as much of an author as me. She can handle the conference without me just fine. You can go with her.“

„Me?“ Chiara asked incredulously.

„Sure. They don’t really care which Dr. Ramsey will come.“

Ethan aged well. More wrinkles circled the corners of his eyes and the grey hair on his temples were not an optical illusion anymore (and Chiara has never found him more handsome than now) and his gaze changed too, the cold blue of his eyes almost forgotten, as his eyes were warm and soft almost all the time he was with his family.

Ethan aged and changed and yet there was a thing that didn’t change in the slightest in these last years. His insufferable stubborness.

And so Chiara knew that he won’t change his mind and that there was no point in trying to and while it warmed her heart to see how in love with Matilda Ethan was, the study was important to him.

Obviously not important enough, however, and Chiara decided not to push him any further. Instead, she asked curiously.

„And what are you going to perform? What if Matilda wants to do something crazy?" Chiara raised an eyebrow.

"Of course she won't want anything crazy. What if it were my father and Naveen taking her?"

Chiara laughed wholeheartedly at his question, because for someone so brilliant, sometimes Ethan was desperately clueless when it came to people around him - and what they were willing to do for their daughter.

"Please, this is Naveen and Alan you are talking about. Matilda could say she wants to sing Hakuna Matata and they would come dressed as Timon and Pumba."

"Ah," Ethan exhaled, obviously only now realizing that Chiara was, indeed, right. And singing - or dancing, for God's sake - was not part of his plan. "Well, she can play some basic compound on the piano, she has learned some already. And I could accompany her on the cello."

Chiara choked on the water she was just drinking, turning to look at Ethan so swiftly, his brows furrowed in a concern for her neck.

"On a what now?"

“A cello. I thought you knew that I used to play the cello as a kid.”

“Of course, but the as a kid part is important. I mean, I played a piano as a kid and now I couldn’t play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star if my life depended on it.”

Ethan laughed, wrapping his arm around Chiara in a half-hug and had to bite his tongue not to tell her that maybe Matilda could teach her, as she already could play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star exceptionally well.

“I might have stopped playing actively when I was ten, but I found a certain sense of serenity in music – and playing – for a long time after that. I-,” Ethan stopped himself, mulling over his next words. It was not like he didn’t want to tell Chiara anything, but talking about his years at med school was not something he did often. “I befriended a music shop’s owner back in Baltimore. He was a nice guy, barely older than me and so very different. He had musical instruments for sale there and as we became closer, he let me borrow the cello and play a little in the back of the shop. It became a thing that helped me clear my head when school became too stressful and it also helped me not to forget how to play. I think Matilda’s level on the piano is very close to what I can remember with the cello.”

Now all he had to do was to find someone who would borrow him the cello.

*** *** ***

Ethan always found it amusing, how his mornings with Matilda differed compared to Matilda’s mornings with Chiara.

He made sure to wake her up earlier than usual, so that they could cook breakfast together and have some time to spare.

Chiara – the person that hated mornings more than eggplants – did all she could to stay in bed for as long as possible. She would rather prepare Matilda’s breakfast in the evening and run to the school than wake up before 6 AM.

And it seemed like Matilda realized this difference quite soon, for all the times Ethan came to wake her up, she knew she could ask him to join her in bed for a few minutes.

"Hey, little Rookie," Ethan whispered, softly stroking Matilda's curls out of her forehead so that he could press a gentle kiss on it. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

The little Rookie nickname was first used when Til was perhaps one year old and it made her giggle so hard Ethan kept using it. Chiara found it extremely funny, always pointing out that Matilda was nothing if not Ethan’s exact copy – and she was right. With her big blue eyes and long curly dark hair, there was no doubt that she was Ethan’s daughter. Not that the similarities ended in her physical appearence – she was phenomenally subborn for a five year old (to which Ethan always argued that she could as well inherit that from Chiara) and sarcasm was her second language. She also might have used ‚fuck‘ once or twice and Ethan knew it’s not Chiara she heard that from.

You should call her little Terminator, Chiara always teased and partly, she was right.

But there were many traits and marks of Chiara in their daughter, marks not so visible but unmistakely hers. How Matilda’s smile was always bright and warm and sincere, something only Chiara could pass on. How she came home one day from school and asked Ethan if he could make cupcakes with her, because her classmate loves cupcakes but his parents are too busy to make them for him and so she would love to bring him some to school. How she appreciated the most common of things, like sun shining because it makes her skin warm and also rain falling because she can jump in the puddles. Her genuine curiosity and open heart and just her general need to make people around her feel good.

That was all Chiara’s mark and Ethan loved his two girls so much it sometimes still surprised him. That he was capable of such love.

It also made him want more sometimes. More people to love that much.

„Snuggle time, please?“ Matilda smiled, her eyes still closed and Ethan was prepared, he knew this request would come and so he didn’t even need to check the watch to know that he could lay down next to her, the tiny bed making his position rather awkward.

He snuggled Matilda from behind and between her slow stirs as she began to wake up and his soft kisses put on the back of her head, he whispered how excited he was to attend the Father’s Day program with her.

*** *** ***

Ethan didn’t even need to try hard to persuade Matilda that a piano-cello duet would be better to perform than a dance. She liked the idea from the beginning and after going through her music sheets with Chiara, she happily exclaimed that they could try to learn Hedwig’s Theme together. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement and Ethan knew the decision was already made, because he couldn’t resist that face.

And so they performed and for a girl who was five and her father, who was almost fifty, they did a great job. Seeing Matilda’s pure, unadultered joy and excitement and so much gratitude that her dad could be there with here, was something Ethan would consider one of the best moments of his life forever.

Tillie was almost jumping up and down with the happiness as they watched her classmates and their fathers or grandfathers or mothers in some cases or maybe even uncles perform their numbers. She was clapping hard after every single one and she kept waving at everyone, her smile so wide Ethan thought for a while that she resembled Bryce more than anyone. The thought made him chuckle, because Matilda would love to hear that, as Bryce was her hero and possibly the best person she could spend her sleepovers at.

Ethan could hardly say that he enjoyed being surrounded by so many people, but he sincerely did enjoy spending the day with his kid. He didn’t regret choosing making a fool out of himself in front of bunch of kids instead of the conference. He almost forgot about the conference altogether until Aurora’s call interrupted the bustle full of laughter around them.

She only called him to let him know that all went well and she was off to have a lunch with other diagnosticians that helped with the study.

"Yes, alright. I'll see you on Monday. Good job, Aurora," Ethan put the phone back into his pocket and turned to Matilda.

"I am sorry you missed the conference because of me, dad."

Ethan knelt down so that he could face his daughter, the very same blue eyes he knew from mirrors, looking back at him, wide and curious.

He smiled softly, kissing Matilda's forehead before responding.

"I am not. No conference is that important, and just between the two of us," Ethan lowered his voice and put his best serious face on, causing the mischievous sparks ignite in Tillie's eyes "Conferences are so boring. You saved me from a torture."

She giggled and threw her arms around Ethan's neck, squeezing him as hard as a five years old could.

"Now let's go, I think there's an ice cream that needs to be eaten."

"But daddy you said ice creams are sugar bomb!"

Ethan chuckled at her shocked expression - not sure is it was a genuine one or an act - and took her little hand into his.

"I'll pretend I don't see you eating it."

Matilda squealed and before her ‚no sugar in this house‘ dad could change his mind, she stormed off in the direction of the ice cream truck.

Before she could reach her destination, however, she stopped in her tracks and tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, pointing at the little girl sitting under one of the trees – alone.

„That’s Dorothy! She is my best friend.“

Yes, Ethan remembered Matilda mentioning Dorsey, her best friend, quite often, but he never got a chance to meet her before. The girl was tiny, much smaller than Matilda – which inherited Ethan’s significant height, too – her hair almost white and her eyes similar to Matilda’s, big and blue but not even close to being as bright.

„She doesn’t have a dad,“ Matilda added, her voice much less excited now. „She didn’t want to come here but her mom has to be at work.“

Ethan’s heart tightened at her words, the description of Dorothy’s situation reminding him of his own when he was a kid way too much.

„Why don’t you go and ask her to join us for an ice cream?“ Ethan smiled at Matilda faintly.

Before he could as much as blink, Matilda was gone and in the very next moment, both girls were back, smiling up at him, his own kid widely and Dorothy very shyly.

„Hello, Dorothy,“ Ethan knelt down and smiled at her encouragingly. „I am Ethan. It is my pleasure to meet you, Matilda talks about you a lot.“

„Hello,“ Dorothy muttered, not meeting his eyes and Ethan noticed she was holding Matilda’s hand.

Without any other word, he stood up and led both girls to find an ice cream truck, only half-listening to what they were talking about – enough to recognize that Dorothy was much more open when talking to Matilda, but not enough to register particular words.

Maybe that’s why Matilda’s next question took him off the guard.

„Right, daddy? I was just telling Dorsey that you could be her dad, right? And I would be her sister!“

Ethan’s eyes widened and before he could find the right words – gentle but also firm enough to explain that that’s not exactly how these things work, Matilda spoke again.

„She could come over anytime and we could have sleepovers like the ones I have with uncle Bryce or grandpa and we would play together and I could borrow her my toys, right?“

Ethan nodded and smiled, of course Dorothy is always welcome to stay at our place, and let the topic go, because there was nothing wrong about his daughter having best friend that would come over.

Thirty minutes later, all three of them sat at the grass and ate their ice creams and it was easy to forget the previous converstaions.

*** *** ***

Until he came into his office, a week after the Father’s Day and found Chiara waiting for him, her arms crossed at her chest and her expression unusually stoic.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Chiara spoke.

„Matilda’s teacher just called.“

„What?“ Ethan stepped closer, automatically reaching into his pocket to make sure his phone, wallet and car keys are there and he is ready to leave and pick up Matilda at any moment. „Is something wrong? Is she in trouble? Sick?“

„She is absolutely alright,“ Chiara shook her head sligthly, her face unreadable – something that scared Ethan more than her visible anger. „She just called me to let me know about the rumors going around Matilda’s class these past few days. She thought it would be better if I found out from her rather than from other parents.“

„Rumors?“ Ethan asked, utterly lost and confused.

It took all the willpower Chiara had not to let her facade slip and keep her expression neutral. But teasing Ethan was one of her main hobbies, even after ten years, and so she tried her best.

„Apparently, Matilda and Dorothy Wilkins told everyone that they are in fact sisters. They have different mommies but the same dad – no other than the famous Dr. Ramsey,“ now, it was really hard not to laugh. Ethan’s whole face paled and the confusion was quickly replaced by recognition. „The other kids shared the news with their parents and now those parents talk.“

Ethan didn’t know that Matilda told Chiara about her idea of Ethan becoming Dorothy’s dad the very same evening she shared it with Ethan himself and even though Chiara tried to explain why that idea is not going to work the way the wished it would, Matilda was stubborn. Meaning, Matilda adopted Dorothy as her sister anyway and didn’t mind sharing her dad with her.

„Fuck,“ Ethan whispered, pacing around the office, not really looking up at Chiara.

If he did, he would catch her grinning.

She cleared her throat quickly and added: „Some of the parents came to tell the poor teacher that they appreciate how civil the mothers of Matilda and Dorothy are about the whole thing and that it must’ve taken much strength of our spirits to put out kids into same school.“

She couldn’t anymore. The first chuckle escaped her and when Ethan’s eyes met hers, the mischievous sparks were dancing on full display in her irises, her smile wide and so amused.

Ethan exhaled a sigh full of relief and rolled his eyes and when he looked at Chiara again, she was laughing softly, badly trying to cover her laugh with the hand over her mouth.

The bizarreness of the whole situation and his wife’s reaction made Ethan laugh too and he slumped down on the couch, pulling Chiara with him.

„We should give some kind of explanation, right?“ he whispered when they both calmed down.

„Oh, I don’t know. I am the civil one,“ Chiara smirked smugly. „And with a strong spirit!“

Ethan laughed again at that, thinking about how any kind of rumors about him and Chiara startled him in the beginning of their relationship and how over the years, Chiara managed to teach him to just let people talk.

„She really wants that sibling, huh?“ Chiara broke the silence, poking his side softly.

„Yes, she does,“ Ethan nodded.

„And you would...want that too, right?“ Chiara asked again, this time much more seriousness in her voice.

Both Chiara and Ethan were decided to adopt a child back in the days they believed they would never have their own. After Matilda was born, they didn’t really talk about it anymore – they felt too blessed, too lucky that they’ve gotten her and they were happy.

But the thoughts of adoption never truly left their heads and Chiara knew that especially Ethan considered the option often. She could see him talking to Matilda when she asked for a sister or a brother for her birthday, she saw the dreamy smile as they spoke about little kids.

And it was not like she was against the idea of adopting a child – quite the opposite. She grew up with two siblings and her brother and sister were one of the best parts of her childhood. She wished she could give Matilda the same feeling, the same love she recieved at her age. She just felt like she would be asking for too much, like it would be selfish to want another little human that would make them happy, when they already had one.

Those thoughts were not rational, but they were there and they slowed her decisions down.

„Yes, I would,“ Ethan nodded after a long while, looking straight into Chiara’s eyes.

He would never push her. But he wouldn’t lie either.

Chiara nodded and leaned in to press a soft kiss on Ethan’s mouth, pouring her emotions into it, her excitement with the idea just as strong as her anxiety.

Deep down, she knew that the decision has just been made. That no matter how openly they talked about it or expressed themselves, all three Ramseys wished to share their love and happiness with another soul.

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x matilda

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