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loversatthegreatdivide · 15 days

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Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 3

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2.3k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: CanNOT believe I'm updating a third time in as many days. This whole chapter is just dialog. All 2,300 words of it. I am deceased. I love writing dialog, but there is a limit. Also, tumblr is held together with old gum and scotch tape, so currently I can't reply to comments on posts. Until they fix it just know I do see them all, even though I can't respond at the moment. For now, if you want a direct response you'll need to send an ask!

Benedict was quite certain he must be dreaming.

He stood outside his home, in the low light of evening, with the girl he had been searching for.

She had come to him all on her own; and now he knew her name.

Beatrice.

"A lovely name indeed," he praised, "But it would perhaps be more proper for me to address you by your surname." Even Benedict, with his distaste for the rigid etiquette of the aristocracy, would feel a certain level of unease referring to a young lady of rank by her given name.

Beatrice looked back at him nervously, "No no, I think Beatrice will do just fine."

"You do have a surname?" Benedict joked.

"Naturally," she lied. While her full name was rather long, it did not include a surname. As was the case with all members of the royal family.

Benedict raised a brow curiously, "It would seem you do not wish to tell me."

"Well...no, I would rather not."

"How intriguing; why ever not? Is your family embroiled in some sort of scandal?" he asked.

"It is nothing like that," she replied, her eyes moving to avoid his gaze, "It is only...well, truthfully I fear once you learn of my lineage, obligation will keep you from speaking honestly with me."

Beatrice knew she was dancing close to the edge. While she had not directly told Benedict her true identity, the more he knew, the more likely he was to put the pieces together. All but telling him her family was of a high rank was a risk, but she wanted to be as honest as she could be with him. She did not enjoy the thought of deceiving him any more than was absolutely necessary.

There was a small smile on his face as he examined her worried expression. He could see this was quite important to her, so decided to leave it be.

"My, your family must be quite important," he commented, "But I shall ask no more. I believe we are all entitled to a secret or two--and of course, I would also enjoy continuing to speak freely with one another." He smiled reassuringly at her as she stared back in surprise, "Beatrice it is."

She felt her face flush at the sound of her name. While it had been at her insistence, it still felt strange to be addressed so casually by anyone outside of her family.

"Thank you," Beatrice replied with a grateful smile.

"However, there is a condition," Benedict continued, "If I am to address you by your given name, I must insist you address me by mine."

"Oh." Beatrice hadn't considered it, but then again it did seem only fair, "I suppose that would be alright...Benedict."

She knew her cheeks were red, but she took some comfort in the fact that he seemed similarly effected.

He looked away, attempting to regain his composure, "Good. Yes, alright then," he cleared his throat, "Now that we've gotten all of that settled, perhaps you would do me the pleasure of an evening promenade?"

He seemed apprehensive, perhaps worried she would decline; Beatrice found it rather endearing.

"That sounds lovely," she answered. He looked back at her, clearly relieved by her answer, "Oh, but before we go," she pointed to his cheek, "you have a bit of charcoal on you face, just there." Benedict's hand instantly flew to to his face.

"How humiliating! And you said nothing as I stood here looking like a chimney sweep?" he joked through his embarrassment.

Beatrice laughed, "Well, there never seemed to be a good time to tell you--and if your were secretly in the business of cleaning chimneys, I would certainly have hated to embarrass you by pointing it out."

"Well then perhaps I should be thanking you for your discretion," he smirked, his hand moving to wipe his face in an attempt to remove the dust.

"No no, don't do that! You'll only smudge it more," she said, batting at the air near his arm in protest. He stopped, lowering his hand as instructed. "Here, allow me."

She lifted her arm, her free hand grabbing the reticle around her wrist. She adjusted it until she was able to reach inside, pulling out a handkerchief. It was lovely: Pure white, with intricate floral embroidery and a lace trim. She raised the handkerchief towards his face, and he instinctively leaned back.

"No ah, well, that is..." he sputtered, "You'll ruin your handkerchief," he finally managed to say.

In truth he was simply startled by her sudden action. She had been so casual in reaching out to touch him, as if it hadn't occurred to her how it might look. Benedict found himself once again surprised by her. So often she seemed to try to conform to the expectations of society, even when it clearly caused her discomfort. Then she would do something like this, and she hardly seemed to care what others might think of it.

"It is only a handkerchief, it can be cleaned you know," she replied, her hand moving once more. Benedict didn't shy away this time, and soon felt the soft fabric rest against his skin. His heart began to race at the simple gesture.

He suddenly found himself unable to look her in the eye.

Beatrice was gentle as she began wiping the charcoal away, seeming completely unaffected by the action or his reaction to it. It lasted only a few moments, but to Benedict it seemed far longer.

"There, much better," she said, removing her hand and smiling at her work. Benedict blushed.

"Yes, thank you," he replied nervously.

"It was no trouble," she assured him, moving to place the handkerchief, now stained with black, back inside her reticle, "Though, I believe I can offer little help for your gloves."

Benedict looked down, his white gloves covered with splotchy, black fingerprints. His hands must have been covered in charcoal when he left his room, and he simply hadn't noticed.

Had he truly been so distracted?

"Forgive me, I am truly a mess this evening."

"Not at all," she replied, before grinning, "It seems you were dealing with quite the begrimed chimney."

He smiled gratefully, "Surely they must keep their fire going year round, to build up such an impressive level of soot."

With that, he offered her his arm.

"Now that you will feel marginally less mortified to be seen with me, perhaps we can be off?" She smiled shyly, pulling at the edge of her hood.

"Yes, I would like that," she answered, her hand moving to entwine her arm with his. They set off down the street, strolling to nowhere in particular at a leisurely pace.

"So," Beatrice was the first to speak, "You are an artist then?"

"And what makes you say so? There could be any number of reasons for a man to have charcoal on his hands...and his face," Benedict quipped.

Beatrice smiled, "No, I believe I am right. You certainly behave like one passionate about the arts."

"Oh? And how is it I behave exactly?"

"Well, my grandmother would say you are rather...bohemian," Beatrice replied.

"Bohemian? And I suppose your grandmother would not mean that to be complimentary?" Benedict asked.

"Indeed she would not," Beatrice laughed, "Though as a rule she is simply not one for compliments. She is, above all things, proper, and can be rather terse at times."

Benedict nodded in understanding, "Ah yes. I have only a few childhood memories of my own grandmother, but she seemed much the same."

"Please don't misunderstand--I am actually quite fond of her," Beatrice corrected, "She is simply not an overly affectionate person."

"I see. So do you spend much time with your grandmother then?" he asked.

"As much as I am able, though my father is quite strict and doesn't like me away from home for too long. I am quite lucky he allowed me to stay with her for the season," she replied.

"Ah, an overbearing father. That makes sense," he commented, smirking at her as she pouted at him.

"Oh? And what about you? I can't imagine your parents restricted you much, given your proclivity for breaking with societal expectations."

Benedict laughed, "This from the girl who has clearly left home without permission to meet a man unchaperoned." She blushed in surprise, turning her face away.

"Well, that is..." She struggled to find a believable justification for her actions.

"Not that I judge you. If anything I'm glad you decided to break a few rules," he smiled as she continued avoiding his gaze, "And for what it's worth, you are correct; I am guilty of being raised by kind, loving parents who supported my interest in the arts and allowed me plenty of freedom."

"I knew it." Beatrice turned back, smirking at him triumphantly, "About you upbringing and being an artist, it would seem."

Benedict laughed, "Oh please, do congratulation yourself more."

"Perhaps I will," she joked.

Soon, her face fell into a thoughtful smile, "You're parents, did they love each other?"

That seemed an interesting turn in conversation.

Benedict nodded, "Yes, from what I remember they were quite mad for one another. My mother talks about it often, particularly mow that so many of her children have come of age. She is constantly encouraging us to find love matches for ourselves."

"You're all lucky to have such a caring mother. Not many would prioritize their children's happiness over their obligation to secure a good match," Beatrice replied.

"You're right, we have been very fortunate," Benedict smiled affectionately, "And so far my mother has gotten her wish: Both my brother and my sister have found love matches for themselves, though it is less certain that the rest of my siblings will follow suite."

"And you?" Beatrice asked without thinking.

"Me?" Benedict repeated, "Well, I'm not sure I shall ever marry."

In spite of herself, Beatrice could not help but look somewhat disappointed, "Oh, I see."

"Though," he continued, "I suppose love may be the one thing to entice me into such an arrangement, should I ever find it."

He couldn't help noticing how the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly as he spoke.

"And what of you? Are you hoping to marry for love?" It was little business of his, but he had to admit he was more curious about her answer than he aught to have been.

"I," she hesitated, her head falling as her gaze fell to the ground, "I would certainly like to, but I'm afraid it's rather unlikely. At best, I can hope my future husband is someone I don't utterly dislike."

"Ah, right--you mentioned your father was strict. Will he be choosing for you?" Benedict asked sympathetically.

"Yes," she confirmed, trying to hold fast to her smile, "My mother and father's marriage was arranged, and now the two despise each other. I suppose so long as my marriage is at all better than theirs I can count myself lucky."

"That must have been a difficult way to grow up," he commented, not know what else he could say.

"I suppose, though it could have been worse. My mother hasn't lived with us since before I was born. When they are forced to around one another, it is an unpleasant affair for all involved; so perhaps it's for the best."

"That's...quite an unusual situation," Benedict noted.

"Perhaps it is, but it is mine," she replied, glancing up at him, "But now it is I who has made you uncomfortable. Perhaps we should move to a lighter subject?"

"Of course," Benedict agreed.l

He wanted to comfort her in some way, but he wasn't sure how he could. He certainly had no idea what it was like to grow up the way she had, or what it was to know that inevitably your future would be chosen for you. There had been a certain level of expectation placed on him as the second son, but he still enjoyed immense freedom. He felt any attempt at comfort may come off as disingenuous, or perhaps even patronizing. He wanted her to know he was sincere.

"Are you attending the next ball?" she asked him after a long moment of walking in silence.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. This is my sister Francesca's first year out, and the second year for my sister Eloise. My brothers and I typically accompany our mother to help keep an eye on them."

"What thoughtful brothers you are," she replied, her tone somewhat teasing.

"Well yes, I suppose we are rather good brothers--the best, even. Our sisters are quite lucky to have such devoted elder brothers looking out for them," Benedict joked back. Beatrice smiled at that, turning her head so he wouldn't see.

Benedict cleared his throat, "Will you also be attending?" he asked as casually as he was able.

It was unlike him, but even the chance he may be able to dance with her was enough to entice him into attending every event for the rest of the season.

"I believe so," she answered.

"So we will see each other again soon?" He asked, hope clear in his voice.

"Yes, though..." she looked up at him nervously, "before that, perhaps I might visit you again?"

"You mean sneak out and see me at Bridgerton House?" She nodded in response, "Hmm...you're not going to throw more rocks at me, are you?"

Beatrice laughed, "I won't so long as you're paying attention."

"Well then, how could I say no?" He smirked.m, and she smiled back at him shyly.

At that moment, they stopped. Benedict looked around, surprised to see it had gotten quite dark. He realized they had walked farther than he had intended to go.

"As much as I loathe to suggest it, perhaps we should be heading back?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Beatrice agreed, "Though, I believe I am closer to home here than back the other way."

"Well then, allow me to walk you home," he offered.

"No!" she answered quickly, "Thank you, but I am quite alright getting back on my own."

He nodded, "Ah yes of course--your secret. Well, so long as you're certain you'll be alright alone?"

"I will," she looked away, looking pleased, "Thank you for understanding."

She unwound her arm from his, "Well, I suppose I should be off, it was truly a pleasure to see you again, Benedict."

He smiled, reaching forward, grabbing her hand and holding it in his.

"The pleasure was all mine, Beatrice," he replied, kissing the back of her gloved hand gently. She felt her cheeks burn. He released her from his grip, and Beatrice held her freed hand tightly against her chest.

"Yes, well...I'll be going then," she replied, quickly turning and making her way down the lamplit street. She glanced back only once, and he lifted his hand to give her a small wave.

Benedict continued watching her until her silhouette finally disappeared into the night.

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Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @lovelyxjanett @asterizee @g4ns3y

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x oc #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #heavy lies the heart #my writing

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foranpo · 1 year

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ੈ˚☆ 11:51pm.

˚ʚ b.stray.dogs. ˚ʚ ranpo. ˚ʚ angst to fluff.

ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading <3 ──────

The rain was heavy, loud, noisy, attacking the windows with the fury of anguish that lingered in the gray, thick, resentful clouds of that night. The wind was pressing, settling in the streets and neighborhoods of the city, devouring all the life it saw, envious of its simplicity and eternity.

But the real storm had originated in your house, in your room, mere words ago.

"You always knew that, didn't you?"

Your eyes burned with the pain of betrayal, red with the aggression of hurt, tearful with the intensity of agony.

"It has always been my knowledge."

Always.

You started to walk around your room, trying to release some of your anger in the hurried steps you took, painting tumultuous paths between your bed and the door over and over and over again.

"And didn't you think it was better to tell me that before we went this far? Before I gave myself completely to you?"

You spoke to yourself, letting all your frustrations escape your lips. It was a song of despair, a symphony of regret running away from you with every step, every word, every tear trapped in your eyes.

How could you be so dumb?

You knew it was a mistake. Your whole story, a mistake. From the moment you allowed yourself to fall in love with the agency's Great Detective to the moment you let yourself be carried away by Ranpo's hollow, empty, manipulative words that involved you in a relationship so perfect, so beautiful, too good to be true —or sincere.

How could you be so naive?

How did you allow yourself to be carried away by promises addressed to the stars, how did you allow yourself to fall into confessions declared to the skies? Nothing he said, nothing he confessed to you, was directed at you. All the words he said to you were never really meant for you; they were always given to the possibility of the universe, offered to the infinity of time and space, never lingering in the moment, in you.

"Tell you... what?"

You stopped walking and looked at Ranpo, his eyes closed in pure confusion, his speech too light to be a tease or a lie.

"What do you mean what?" you huffed and sat on the bed, tired, hurt, broken. How your head hurt at that moment. "I asked you if you liked me, if you loved me."

"Yes."

Ranpo was still confused, an almost comical expression on his face as he tried to follow your reasoning, the young detective's intellect practically nil when it came to you, to your relationship.

"You said no."

"Oh!" Ranpo sat beside you when your explanation lightened a little the darkness in which you had left him. "I don't love you because I believe that's not enough."

You looked at him in the middle of the storm, the rain slackening in line with Ranpo's words, the wind momentarily withdrawing so that the following words could be heard clearly and without any hitch. That moment belonged to Ranpo, and the universe, devoted to your love, complicit in your passion, was ready to praise the true feelings that were in his soul, in his heart.

"Love ends up dying one day. A lie, a betrayal, or simply because it ceased to exist. Love is ephemeral. And what I feel for you, what we have, I know will transcend our time and the entire universe. "

"That doesn't justify your reaction, why you were so rude when you know what it means to me."

You never forced him to use the three words that flowed so freely from your lips whenever you saw him. You never forced him to be uncomfortable around you for your sake. But all you asked, all you wanted, was a confirmation of a question. A simple 'yes'. And he attacked you with the cruelty of his thoughts, with the intellectuality of his feelings.

"I want to give you everything, I want to do everything for you. But I can't give you what you ask, I don't know how to give it to you. For now."

For now. But already a little late.

Tears finally began to flow as the rain finally stopped. Looking at Ranpo, seeing how naturally he handled that argument, it was too much for your already broken heart.

There was a long pause.

"But I want you to understand what goes on inside me. I want you to know what I really feel. It's not love, because I don't believe in the existence of something so small and strong. It's something big, that contains multitudes and that doesn't fit in me. It's something that forces me to confess to the stars, to promise the sky a continuation in the next life because this one is too small to love you completely, to love you as you should be loved. I am devoted to you, completely surrendered to you and your existence, bewitched by your soul."

Ranpo had held your face in the middle of his speech, forcing you to look into his eyes, into his soul, and realize that only truth was uttered by him.

His thumbs wiped away your tears, smoothing your cheeks with the care of someone who really cares, someone who really loves.

"But if you prefer, I'll say it. With all the letters and syllables, in as many languages as you want."

But you shook your head and, in a last effort at comfort, you let your head hide in Ranpo's chest, allowing him to envelop you in a tight embrace, feeling the pieces of your heart come together again with each caress given by Ranpo.

And, in the warmth of each other's arms, you and Ranpo shared the rest of the night in the silence of your room and in the calm that came after the storm outside, letting the sounds of the city lull you into a necessary sleep, letting the love between you covered yourselves in that small space, with the assurance that your feelings had been heard, understood, accepted; after all, there were many ways to say you loved someone.

ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated <3 ─────

#petition for my eng writing to b as beautiful as my pt one #but oh well baby ranpo saying cute stuff omg so jealous #want and need simp ranpo so true #;bungou stray dogs constellation;#ranpo x reader #ranpo x you #ranpo x yn #ranpo fluff #ranpo angst #ranpo imagines #ranpo drabbles #ranpo oneshot #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagines

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jeonstellate · 10 months

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in the dark: dusk

you ask the moon for an impossible before your inevitable marriage to an utter stranger.

๑彡 hong jisoo x afab!reader

๑彡 strangers-to-lovers!au, arranged marriage!au — angst(?), fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.8K words

masterlist | in the dark: dawn

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from bobby’s in the dark.

๑彡 this is the first half of the two-shot, in the dark. you can find the link to the next part above :]

You had always known your marriage would be arranged by your parents. In a time where marriages were used as a form alliance between clans rather than a form of union between lovers, you never dared to hope that your marriage would be bound by love.

However, that particular knowledge didn’t prevent you from craving to experience how genuine romantic love feels like.

Hence your decision to sit by a tree just behind your village long after the sun had set. You weren’t waiting for a miracle, but you’d be lying if you say you weren’t hoping for one.

Under the pale moonlight, the cloak of darkness concealed the tears that the sun could not shine upon. Under the pale moonlight, you wordlessly wish for something that can never be.

But never did you expect for the moon to answer.

"May I know the reason for your tears, my lady?" A voice, soft and careful, suddenly filled the silence of the night. Although its appearance was unexpected, it miraculously didn’t startle you — as though, somehow, you had known.

You kept facing the moon as you answer, almost as if you were conversing with her rather than whoever just arrived. "Just trivial matters."

"Perhaps so, but you obviously care about it a great deal." The presence behind you felt closer, but still remained at a respectable distance.

"But I shouldn’t," you sighed. "There are dangers in dwelling on matters that are out of my control."

"But there are also dangers in bottling your feelings in, my lady," the person gently reminded you.

Silence then engulfed the two of you — which felt comfortable despite not knowing who exactly you were conversing with. The voiced words settled between the two of you, gradually creating something that could either build or destroy any relation that might form.

"I don’t know if I should trust you with my thoughts," you thoughtfully said after a while. "I don’t know who you are."

Your companion hummed in acknowledgment, "You can think of me as a shadow, if you wish."

"Why so?"

"You cannot confirm my existence until you look at me."

You started laughing. "I can very well just turn and confirm it promptly, my lord."

"Respectfully, my lady, but I advice against it," he replied almost immediately. "Please take comfort in knowing I am a stranger that cannot judge you based on anything you do not personally share — as I will with you."

You thought his advice through. Although you were concerned about revealing too much to an utter stranger, you couldn’t deny that he had a point. You live in a small village, after all — one way or another, everyone always hear about one family’s business and discuss them freely like it’s their own.

Every family in your village has their own reputation — which ultimately decides the esteem people regard each family with. If he doesn’t know how you look like, nor what your name is, then he can’t judge you based on the reputation of your family — nor can you have the fear of tainting your family’s reputation with each information you choose to disclose.

"Perhaps you are right," you agreed after a few moments of silence. "Though I do think you should just address me as Night from here on forward."

"Wonderful. Then, you can call me Suho."

You and Suho continued conversing the night away. Although he eventually chose to situate himself near you (after asking for consent), neither of you faced each other. You remained facing the sky, with your left arm millimeters away from the tree trunk and your back facing your village. Him, on the other hand, had his back against the tree trunk, his body facing your village, with his left arm inches away from yours.

"So what brings you in the dark like this?" Suho started the conversation after having enough of the silence.

"I wanted to make a wish to the moon," you replied eventually after pondering upon how you should indulge his inquiry.

"You must’ve wished so earnestly that tears spilled down your cheeks."

His comment earned an almost soundless chuckle from you. "On the contrary," you started, "those were desperate tears from wishing the impossible."

"I’m afraid I don’t follow, my lady," you heard him shift his position, but the sound of his voice remained in the same distance.

"My parents have found me someone to marry," you said slowly as you thought about whether or not saying so would give away your identity, "but I wanted to experience having a lover first before I’m bounded to someone I have yet to meet."

Suho, in contrast to your obvious hesitancy, was quick to react. "I can be your lover, my lady, if you will allow me."

"I beg your pardon?" You stuttered in disbelief. "You shouldn’t utter words you don’t mean, my lord."

"I do mean them," he quickly insisted.

"How can you?" You expressed your doubt, "Surely there must already be a lady waiting for you back home?"

"I assure you, my lady, you shall be my only one."

You couldn’t reply right away — not because you were thinking his reply over, but because his response made you flustered. "Then, I suppose you would not mind courting me?"

Just like he had been doing throughout the night, Suho’s response came almost immediately. "I would court you as long as you wish."

You and Suho continued to meet with the moon being your only witness. During those nights, you would converse about anything your hearts desired. Slowly, but surely, then, you both learned parts of what composed each other’s constellations.

True to his word, Suho did court you every night that you met. He would alternate between telling you compliments, giving you flowers, writing you some poetry, or a combination of acts.

In return, to show your appreciation, you reciprocated his efforts in ways you knew how.

"Yes," you agreed out of the blue on the night of a full moon.

"Pardon?"

"Yes," you repeated, "I am now accepting you as my beau."

You and Suho had an agreement, beginning that first night when your peculiar arrangement was made. You both agreed, under no circumstances, would you try to catch a glimpse of each other’s faces. Thus, whenever you two met, you both ensured that you two were positioned in such a way that no one wouldn’t see the other’s face.

And somehow, you two still found a way to bask in each other’s warmth without breaking your agreement. "Thank you," you heard him murmur by your ear. "Thank you for trusting me."

You shook your head in denial, a smile ghosting your lips. "Thank you for coming into my life."

The word ‘bliss’ wouldn’t be enough to describe how you felt the following nights. Suho had always been sweet, but he became even sweeter after he became your beau.

Like he had already done, Suho had brought you flowers, written you poetry, and showered you with words of affirmation. On top of all of those, he occasionally brought you handmade gifts as well.

Despite already being your significant other, Suho still went out of his way to court you — even after you told him that he could stop. He claimed that it made him happy, as it never failed to make you happy, so you just let him do what he pleased.

"Have you ever thought about children?" You asked Suho one night as you lie on his chest, facing the moon.

Even with your improved status, you and Suho came to a consensus that you should uphold your previous agreement of keeping your true identities a secret from one another. Especially with your deepening relationship, it was crucial not to display any awkwardness nor unusual behavior if ever you two meet under the sun — to keep the eagle-eyed gossipers of your village from talking.

"Well, I am now," he answered before resting his hand on your hip, by your stomach. "Why?"

You two often talked about whatever came to mind, especially if you had finished filling each other about any shareable events that happened during the day. Albeit you both had nothing against silence, you liked to spend your limited time getting to know each other instead.

"As I look into the sky, I suddenly remembered how I took inspiration from it when I was unentertained enough to think of baby names."

You heard Suho let out an intrigued sound, "Let’s hear them, then."

"Hyewol for a girl, Hyeseong for a boy," you answered nonchalantly. "I also thought Chaewol, Seonghwa, and Haneul could be good to use as well."

Suho started murmuring to himself. Despite your proximity, you still couldn’t quite catch the entirety of what he was saying. However, you could’ve sworn that you heard the names you just mentioned being mixed in.

"What are you—?"

"Just testing how the names sound with my last name," he replied as nonchalant as you were then. However, with such simple words, you couldn’t help but to feel your cheeks flush. "So, five kids?"

"I," you stopped, suddenly not trusting yourself to speak. Nevertheless, after a moment, you managed to collect yourself. "Only if it’s with you."

You both knew, with your looming engagement, that that was a future out of your reach. It was a someday that could only exist under the cloak of the moon’s light, never to be touched by the sun’s rays.

And yet, despite that, you and Suho still dared to dream.

You knew this day would come, even before you crossed paths with Suho. In retrospect, this day was literally the reason why you met Suho in the first place. Had you not been crying that pivotal night about this particular day, you probably wouldn’t have him by your side at all.

Unfortunately, even your set up with Suho did nothing for the dreaded day.

"[First name], dear, come here for a minute," your mother called you over from your little corner with your cousins.

Today was her birthday and, to celebrate, she held a banquet in her honor — only inviting those that she truly got along with to keep the event drama-free. Not even her side of the family was in complete attendance, as some — if not most — of them clashed with one another over trivial matters.

It was your mother’s day, so you never thought it would double as the day you finally met your fiancé.

"[First name], this is Joshua," you mother started with an abnormally large smile etched on her face, "your fiancé."

You tried not to visibly freeze. As much as Suho was supposed to assist you to get ready for your married life, you weren’t ready to meet the person you were expected to spend the rest of your life with. Especially not when you already began wishing that your husband-to-be was Suho instead.

Joshua reached for your hand and kissed the back. "It’s my pleasure to be your acquaintance, my lady. I am Joshua Hong."

#hong jisoo x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #hong jisoo imagines #joshua imagines #seventeen imagines #hong jisoo scenarios #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #hong jisoo oneshots #joshua oneshots #seventeen oneshots #strangers-to-lovers!au #arranged marriage!au #hong jisoo #joshua #seventeen

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mollysolo · 2 years

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By Your Side Again

Pairing: Eddie Munson X fem!Reader

Summary: You and Eddie finally reunite after not talking to or seeing each other for 4 years.

Warnings: Mentions of strict/controlling parents, crying, arguing, friends to lovers, mention of eddie being high

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: eddie and the reader are the same age (20).

Four years ago when you were 16 years old, your parents had packed up your childhood home and forced you to move to Maine. They claimed that Eddie, your best friend, was a ‘bad influence’ and that you ‘needed to get far away from him’.

It broke your heart to leave him and even now years later, you still can’t get rid of how sad he looked when you told him that you were moving away.

And once you and your parents were in Maine, they forbid you from talking to Eddie in any way. You couldn’t even send him a letter, which broke your heart even more. You felt so alone without him by your side.

But things were different now, you were an adult and your parents could no longer control you or make decisions for you. So, you did what you’ve been wanting to do ever since you were 15 and you and Eddie had talked about where you wanted to go to college.

You dropped out of the University of Maine and immediately applied to Indiana State University. Now, you knew your parents would be very upset about this but you didn’t care, you were done letting them control your life.

Two weeks later you received an acceptance letter, the sight of the words in the letter making you grin.

But the second you read those positive words in your acceptance letter, you also realized that your parents would most likely refuse to ever speak to you again once they were made aware of what you had done.

You knew you had to tell them anyways, it was the right thing to do. So, you drove to their house and broke the news to them.

“I dropped out and I’m moving back to Indiana. I’m going to attend Indiana State instead.” you told them, a soft sigh leaving your lips when you were done talking. You now felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

They both became angry with you right away, “Why are you still letting that Munson boy influence you? He’s not good enough for you!” your father yelled while he crossed his arms over his chest.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m not doing this because of him! I’m doing this because I’ve wanted to go there for years but you two made me go to the college you wanted me to go to, not the one I wanted to go to! I’m not going to let you control my life anymore! I’m more than able to make big life decisions myself.” You scream back.

Your mother took one look at you and simply said, “Get out. We never want to see you again.” not bothering to make eye contact with you.

So you did, you ran out to your car and drove back to your apartment. And weirdly enough, you didn’t feel sad at all. You felt relieved because you could now finally live freely without your parents looming over everything you did.

Once you got back to your apartment, you called back the landlord you had contacted the day you got your acceptance letter and planned out a day and time you could sign your lease on your new apartment once you arrived in Indiana. They were even nice enough to let you know which apartment would be yours so that you’d have an address to send your things to.

You then began to pack up the things that would need to be shipped to your new apartment. And once that had been dealt with, you flopped onto your couch that you would be leaving behind as you felt a sad feeling take over you.

You began to wonder what you had missed while you were gone. You wondered what Eddie looked like now. But the one thing that weighed on your mind the most was whether Eddie would be happy to see you or not. You just hoped that you’d be able to make up for lost time.

— Time Skip: 3 days —

It was officially the day of your big move and even on a chaotic day like that, all you could possibly think of was Eddie.

You couldn’t wait to see him again, to feel him again, to remind him of the love you had for him.

Which reminded of you the only helpful thing your move to Maine four years ago did for you, which was the realization that you had been in love with Eddie for years. And when you did realize this, you promised yourself that you would move back to Hawkins someday and tell Eddie how you truly feel.

——————————————————

The second you left the airport, you took a taxi to your new apartment complex and signed the lease, not wanting to waste a single second. You then grabbed the two somewhat large suitcases you had brought with you and ran to drop them off in your new apartment.

You would get settled later, there was someone much more important that you had to see before you did anything else.

So, you hailed another taxi that gave you a short twenty minute ride to Hawkins and dropped you off in front of the entrance to the trailer park Eddie and his uncle, Wayne lived at.

You started to run again once you had gotten out of the taxi, this time to Eddie’s trailer, still not wanting to waste a single second.

You took a moment to admire the cozy home Eddie and his uncle shared whilst you caught your breath before you then walked up onto the porch and stood inches away from their front door.

It was now or never. You kept telling yourself as you tried to ignore how nervous you were currently feeling.

You knocked twice on his front door then tucked your hands behind your back, mentally hoping that Eddie was home and you hadn’t come at a bad time.

“Hey.” you said to him as soon as he opened the door, a soft smile on your face.

You were absolutely in awe of the man he had become. His hair was longer, he had a few more tattoos and he had become a lot taller. He was beautiful.

His eyes widened right away, “(y/n)?” his hands hesitantly reached out for yours, “Is this real? Are you actually here?” he asked you, wondering if he had gotten too high and you were just a figment of his imagination.

You smiled at him again while tears started to well up in your eyes, “Yes, this is real. I’m actually here.” you assured him with a nod of your head.

And once he had gotten your confirmation, Eddie’s shock slowly began to disappear and he quickly took you into his arms. He tightly wrapped his arms around your ribs and held you against his chest, his face now buried in your shoulder.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart. What happened? I thought you hated me.” he told you, his voice muffled by your shoulder while goosebumps appeared on your arms at the sound of that nickname.

“I missed you too, Eddie, more than you’ll ever know. I wish we could’ve kept in touch after I moved, but my parents wouldn’t let me talk to you anymore.” you paused for a moment to press a light kiss to his cheek, “I could never hate you, Eddie. I love you.” you remind him.

He nodded into you and pressed a kiss to your cheek in response.

You were eternally grateful for how understanding Eddie had always been, even at a time like this when you hadn’t spoken to him in years.

“Eddie, there’s something else I need you to know.” you made known to him as you started to slowly pull yourself out of his arms, his hands still lingering on your waist.

“What is it?” he asked, a concerned look now on his handsome face.

“I’m in love with you and I have been since we were kids.�� you confidently tell him as you look up into his eyes, tears welling up in your own eyes once more.

He looks your face up and down once then said, “I’m in love with you too, sweetheart. Always have been.” tears welling up in his eyes as well.

He then let go of your waist, swiftly cupped your face in his large hands and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. He kissed you with such desperation that conveyed all of the love he has for you.

He mumbled several ‘I love yous’ to you as he kissed you all over your cheeks while your face remained in his hands, this sweet action making you chuckle.

“I also have some good news to share with you.” you pause again and watch him nod in response, “I’m going to Indiana State instead and I now live just twenty minutes away from here.” you tell him, another smile on your face.

He took you back into his arms immediately after you said this, “Good. I don’t wanna loose you again, sweetheart.” he said, his voice starting to break a little.

“You won’t. Nothing will ever separate us again, I promise.” you assure him, tightly hugging him back as if you never wanted to let go of him. Which was true.

The two of you stayed there like that for a little while longer, silently enjoying the feeling of being in each others arms again.

A shiver then went through your body as a result of the wind and the feeling of him twirling your hair around his finger. Prompting Eddie to take your hand in his and lead you into his home right away once he had felt you shiver.

“I love you.” you said, stopping him in the hallway leading to his bedroom so that you could press another kiss to his lips.

“I love you. Please, be my girlfriend. I wanna be yours.” he desperately said against your lips in between kisses.

“I’m already all yours.” you simply replied as a grin appeared on your face and you kissed him again seconds later, making you both feel complete for the first time in years.

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greyghoulclub · 6 months

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There was a letter for Max on the table. It had been there for at least two months now. But she was too scared to open it, for may be written inside.

She stares at it from across the breakfast table while she was supposed to be eating breakfast before she got to school. With a shaking hand she picked it up and looked at the scratchy block handwriting on the envelope.

Maxine.

There was only one person apart from her mom who called her Maxine.

The letter was found in his room the day after he was skewered by the monster made of people. It was one of three. The other two addressed separately to his parents. She thought about the letters the gloomy day his coffin was lowered into the ground. It was in the middle of August but the sky had been overcast as if it was weeping for him too.

Her mom had sent the one addressed to his mother away the day after they were found. She saw her stepdad rip his up with some ugly words about his now deceased son. After that she hadn’t seen her step dad since. Fine by her, she didn’t like the guy anyways and he didn’t either.

Her mind was full of the memories of him, the good and the bad. The time where he had helped her beat a record on the arcade machines to win a giant stuffed bear for El, but then that was followed with a memory of him breaking her skateboard for sneaking out at night. She understands why he did it now, but she was still pissed about it. The walking paradox that was Billy Hargrove.

The letter itself read;

"Dear Maxine,

I want you to know I never really hated you, not one bit. I thought you were annoying sure, but who doesn't think their younger sibling is annoying? Tell Lucas I didn't hate him either, I was made to act that way. Neil wouldn't have taken too kindly to you hanging out with a black kid. He was the monster, not me.

He pit us against each other Max, especially so I wouldn't have had an ally against him. He used me to punish you since people would ask questions if you were walking about with a black eye. I hope he hasn't turned onto you since I'm going to die soon. You're a good kid Max, and you don't deserve anything he may or may not throw against you.

I'm going to sound insane right now, but there's more monsters in Hawkins other than Neil. Actual monsters that you'd see in a horror movie, dogs with no faces, ones that can walk on two legs. And one that's made out of people. That one made me take people to it against my will to help it get bigger. It brainwashed me Max, I can feel it in the back of my head as I'm writing this, it doesn't want me to tell you this. It tells me I need to not be as weak as the boy. I don't know who the boy is but you've got to keep him away from me. I already took Heather to the monster and her family, they got melted into the monster, it was the most horrible thing I've ever seen and it made me do it. I think I might be a bad person Max, but I don't want to be. I've never wanted to be a bad person but other people and things made me a bad person Max.

I don't know what I'm trying to tell you Max, I guess this might be the last time I speak to you as me. The monster is taking control more and more. Just remember that I love you, and while I might have not been the best brother to you, you were the best sister to me.

Love, Billy"

The letter had tear stains near the end, the ink starting to smear from either Billy's tears or Max's. Part of her was angry that it took Billy dying for him to tell her this, the other part felt a sort of relief to know that Billy really did love her. Tears were freely flowing as she read the letter again, pain in her chest growing for not realising earlier that Billy had been a victim of both the Mindflayer and Neil. She felt as if she had failed Billy even though she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

She clutched the letter close to her chest as she cried in the corner of Billy's room. "I'm sorry Billy, I'm so sorry,"

#stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #billy and max #angst #st fic #billy antis dni #greyghoul fics #tw death #tw child abuse #post s3

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 2 years

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chapter iv – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: severe violence, spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Eris awoke to a polite tapping at his door. His head shot up to look out his window to see that it was hardly dawn. He groaned in irritation and stormed over to answer, readying himself to verbally tear apart whoever interrupted his sleep.

However, he hesitated when he realized it was one of his mother’s chambermaids.

They were chosen wisely, for they were not just her chambermaid’s, but her closest thing to friends in Autumn Court. They were not loyal to Beron, but to her. They kept all her secrets, and were her eyes and ears throughout the court.

“This better be good,” Eris warned the chambermaid, who tried her hardest not to look scared of him. But he knew better.

“The Lady of Autumn requests your presence, my lord.”

Eris narrowed his eyes. That was not the answer he was looking for. But still he did not deny his mother’s request.

“I will be at her chambers shortly,” Eris replied curtly, and slammed the door in her face.

_____

The Forest House was still asleep as Eris quietly ventured to his mother’s wing.

He didn’t bother knocking, opening the door for himself.

His mother quickly turned at his arrival.

Eris immediately asked, “Is everything alright?”

He knew if his mother was in danger, the message from her chambermaid would’ve been different. But he couldn’t help but still ask.

His mother’s face brightened at the sight of her eldest son.

She rushed forward and softly cupped his face. “I am fine, Eris. I only wished to see you.”

“And you thought before sunrise was appropriate?” Eris rebuked.

But any attitude he showed, his mother knew it wasn’t genuine.

So, she gave attitude right back.

One of her eyebrows rose and she frowned softly up at him. “You have been avoiding me, my son.”

But she had a gentle heart and even when she was trying to be stern with her sons, the act always soon fell.

Eris followed her to their usual small nook in her chambers. It was already set up for tea and coffee and breakfast. At least she planned on feeding him while interrogating.

“You know father has been on a rampage as of late. I have been busy,” Eris explained as he pulled out the chair for his mother before sitting.

She gave him a stern look. “Do not lie to your mother, Eris.”

He glanced at the few chambermaids lingering in the room. It was a subtle glance, but his mother still caught it.

“Will you leave us, please?” She spoke to the room ever so politely.

They replied with a soft, “Yes, Leonora.”

All of her servants called the Lady of Autumn by her first name while they were alone and in the safety of her private rooms. She considered them her friends after all.

When Eris once asked why she insisted on being addressed so informally, his mother said the only other person who ever used her name was his father, and she refused to let him ruin it.

Leonora reached across the table and squeezed her son’s hand softly and gave him a gentle smile. “You know you can speak freely here, Eris.”

He only gave a curt nod.

Yes, her servants had made bargains to pledge their secrecy and loyalty to the Lady of Autumn, so even Beron couldn’t torture them for information. And her entire wing was protected with wards so none could eavesdrop.

But Eris was conditioned to be paranoid after multiple lifetimes of being trapped in this court.

“Something is troubling you, I know it,” Leonora spoke softly to him before taking a quick sip of tea.

It had been almost a month since Eris met his mate and pled the inner circle of the Night Court to take her in and protect her.

Eris thought he had been doing a good job of acting the same since.

But it appeared his mother knew him far too well.

Eris wanted to tell her. Truly he did. But it would only make everything more real. Then someone – someone who he truly loved and cared for – would be pushing him toward his mate. Because his mother would not rest knowing one of her sons was denying himself the love of a mate.

Leonora put her tea back down. “You haven’t been sleeping well. And you are overworking yourself – more than usual. I know your father has lately been…taut. But you are more than used to his erratic behavior. This is something else, something more.”

Eris dropped his mask. He only allowed himself to do so when he was alone with his mother, a place he knew that was safe. (As safe as they could be in their dreadful prison.)

His gaze turned desperate. Silently, his eyes pleaded with his mother, ‘Do not make me say it. Please. I beg of you.’

His mother turned even more sympathetic and leaned closer to her son. “I am sorry you have had to face so much hardship on your own. I know that I have not been able to protect you from too many things…”

She had to pause to recover, obviously thinking about all the abuse her terrible husband had endured on their family.

“But…never believe that you are truly alone in this world, my beautiful and good Eris. Whatever it is, I will help you.”

“Am I good?” Eris challenged in a whisper, staring down at the table.

Leonora’s eyes filled with tears.

She cupped his jaw firmly. “Of course you are.”

Eris let out a huff. “You are the only one who could ever believe such a thing, mother.”

“Has he said something to you? Whatever it is, don’t you dare believe a word of it.”

But Eris was already shaking his head before she could even finish the question.

He finally lifted his gaze from the table. “I have found my mate.”

His mother had also learned to control her expressions while living for so long in an abusive household and marriage.

But even Eris could read the shock in her eyes.

The next hour, Eris explained the situation he found himself when he stumbled upon his mate for the fist time. He made sure to include that it was after she murdered three male faes to save both herself and other innocents from being trades as sex slaves.

Leonora was quiet after he finished, clearly deep in thought.

Eris knew what his mother wanted to say. She wanted to tell him to go after to her, to actually meet her and get to know her.

But Eris also knew his mother wouldn’t let herself say such a thing to him.

Because she was no fool. And neither was his.

Leonora knew the same thing that Eris did: if Y/N came to Autumn Court while Beron still lived…she would be murdered.

“You did the right thing,” Leonora finally told him softly. “She would be safer in any other court than she would ever be in Autumn.”

“I made a bargain to ensure she was more than just safe,” Eris clarified.

Leonora nodded once, not forgetting the part where her son made an unbreakable deal with the High Lord of Night.

“You can still know her,” she added carefully.

Eris looked at his mother as if she’d gone crazy.

“You can keep her safe and get to know her. It does not have to be one or the other,” she clarified.

“Mother, it isn’t safe. I would never risk it.”

“Yes, you must protect her from your father. But you can–“

“No!” Eris rose from his seat so quickly that his chair fell backwards, hitting the floor with a bang.

“Eris, please…”

“No. Do not even suggest such a thing. You of all people understand why I must do this, why I can never know her," he seethed. "More importantly, she can never know me.”

He shook his head in anger. “She is mortal. What life could we possibly have, even if her life wasn’t in danger from our connection?”

“The Cauldron does not choose mates carelessly,” Leonora tried to argue.

“There have been plenty of mates throughout history who despise one another and lived unhappily together,” Eris fumed.

“Oh, so now you suddenly hate her?” Leonora challenged with a subtle smirk.

Eris finally lost it and yelled, “She would hate me!”

His chest was rising rapidly from the outburst as he finally realized he needed to control his emotions. “M-Mother, I did not mean to raise–”

“Hush, Eris. You could never frighten me.” She gestured to his fallen chair. “Please, sit down. Give yourself a moment to breathe.”

He did as she said, trying to regain control of himself.

“I’ve never had anything for myself,” Eris muttered after a few moments. “Everything I have is simply a privilege he has allowed me. Yet another thing he can control. And he takes any and every opportunity to prove to me that he can take any of it away whenever he so wishes.”

“What are you really scared of, Eris?” His mother asked. “Are scared to love someone? Or are you scared she will not love you in return?”

––––––––

Y/N once again tiptoed out of her room, closing the door softly behind her.

“Sneaking off again?” A deep voice asked behind her.

She jumped, not sensing anyone or seeing them.

But she whipped around to find Cassian giving her a big smile.

“I’m not sneaking!” Y/N hissed.

“Oh, really? You just tiptoe around for fun?” He smiled again. “Azriel claims you like to go for walks in the forest. But insist on trying to do so alone, which is not safe. And that is exactly why I am here.”

Y/N groaned, “Azriel should have more important people to spy on…” Then she jabbed her finger into his chest. “And I do not need a personal guard.”

Cassian ignored her last comment and asked, “How do you get down the stairs? Azriel is stumped and will not shut up about it.”

A brilliant idea came to mind. Y/N smiled mischievously. “I shall make you a deal: I will show you, if you promise not to tell Azriel.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because it will drive him mad that I willingly showed you, but swore you to secrecy.”

Cassian’s smile now matched hers. “You have yourself a deal.”

Y/N gave a victorious cheer and skipped to the stairs.

When they reached it, her expression turned serious. “Do not panic. I will be fine.”

And that is the only warning she gave before she stepped over the ledge, jumping into the dangerous well-hole of the spiraling staircase.

“Y/N!” Cassian screamed, despite her warning.

But just as he reached the edge, he felt the most powerful gust of wind. So powerful, that it slowed Y/N’s fall to the bottom, almost working as a parachute. She couldn’t fly like an Illyrian, but nature could make her fall gracefully from even the greatest of heights.

Cassian shook his head, but chuckled at the sight.

He dove out the closest ledge that led to the outside and dove to the bottom of the staircase to meet her.

“What magic was that?” He asked her as he landed a few feet away from her.

“The wind has called to me since I was a child,” Y/N explained as she scratched a nonexistent itch on her arm.

“You control it?”

She shook her head. “I control nothing. It simply answers my calls and in return I answer its calls, as well.”

Y/N waited for the moment where Cassian was disturbed. It always came on the rare occasion she felt brave enough to share something true, something secret. Those few always left the conversation and instantly kept their distance from her – most of the time, never to be seen again.

But not Cassian.

“Could’ve used someone like you when I was learning to fly and figuring out wind patterns,” the giant Illyrian joked. “Would’ve saved me the bruises from falling on my arse.”

Y/N was so relieved from his unconcerned reaction, that she actually let out a laugh.

But it quickly faded when she realized Cassian had started leading them through Velaris.

She stopped in her tracks, “Where are you going?”

“To the River House,” he answered as if it were obvious.

Y/N turned her body in an entirely different direction, pointing to another path. “Goodbye then. I am going to the forest.”

Cassian gave her a stern look. “Not today, you aren’t. I was asked to look after you. But now Feyre has asked me to look after Nyx…so you’re coming with me.”

He gave her a gentle shove in his direction to prove his point further.

“I am not,” Y/N jeered. “I refuse to be charged around like one of your soldiers. You are not my keeper. No one is.”

And to prove her point, a gust of wind whirled around them.

“Ooo. Yes. Very scary, indeed.” Cassian cooed as he eyed the wind tunnel around him.

Y/N didn’t like that at all, and called on the her friends further.

Answering, the winds returned tenfold, but only focused on Cassian.

It was strong enough to actually push the male back steps. And Y/N could tell he actually had to use his strength to stay on his feet and fight back.

She let it up after a minute.

“Yes. Fine. I am impressed,” Cassian huffed, further proving that his efforts caused him exertion. “But I still have my orders. Rhys does not like you being left alone. So, please, will you come with me? And we both know Nyx adores you.”

It was true. The little lord had taken quite the liking to Y/N. Though none of them knew it was because Y/N would give him little gusts of wind that would catch his baby wings, allowing him to safely hover a few inches off the ground.

It never failed to make Nyx fall into a fit of giggles – no matter how many times she did it in a row. And in return, the toddler associated only joy and laughter with Y/N’s visits.

At first, Y/N had been shocked that Feyre and Rhysand allowed her – a stranger – around their son. He was their everything, as well as Night Court’s only heir – as of now.

But Feyre seemed to trust Y/N. And it was clear Rhysand never quite took Y/N as a serious threat. And Y/N got the inkling that the more time she spent with their “inner circle,” the less suspicious they all were becoming of her, too.

“I didn’t realize the Lord of Bloodshed drops his general duties to nanny,” Y/N teased.

“Of course,” Cassian answered, not offended or embarrassed in the slightest.

But Y/N returned to the matter at hand. “I still wish to go for a hike, Cassian.”

The Illyrian sighed. “How about you, Nyx, and I go for a walk…together?”

Y/N beamed up at him. “Deal.”

–––––––

30 minutes later, the three of them walked into the forests behind the River House. Well, two of them were walking. Nyx was sitting on Cassian’s shoulders and giggling.

“Why do you like these walks of yours so much?” Cassian asked as they climbed up another peak.

“Velaris is beautiful, as is the House of Wind. But I am a child of silva. What little power I possess comes from nature itself. And therefore I am most at peace when I am within its clutches.” She huffed at the exertion she was using to climb. “My coven…we use to train every other day.”

She looked down at her outfit. After her first time going down to Velaris, she noticed it was perfectly acceptable to for the females here to wear trousers instead of dresses. And for the purposes of a hike, she much preferred the former.

Cassian paused with his brows raised. “Train? As warriors?”

Y/N giggled, knowing that would be his assumption. “Not exactly. It was to clear our bodies as well as our minds.” Then she too stopped to look up at him. “But we did what we could to defend ourselves.”

Cassian gave her a crooked smile. “I think you should be spending more time with my mate.”

Nyx giggled as if he agreed.

Before Y/N could ask what he meant by that, the Illyrian snapped his attention to a point in the distance.

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed.

Y/N whispered as quietly as she could, “What is it?”

Cassian swiftly took the little high lord from his shoulders and handed him to Y/N. “Take Nyx. When I say, you run.”

Y/N took the toddler without question, but sent a message to the wind.

A gust returned to her.

“Thirty fae soldiers sit beyond the trees,” she informed him quickly. “We both know I cannot outrun them. And you can’t distract all of them from coming after me.”

Cassian knew she was right. Y/N was a mortal. And while she had gifts, higher speed was not one of them.

Without giving Y/N his next plan, Cassian picked her up in his arms and lifted off into the air. If fighting was their only choice, he wanted Y/N and Nyx nowhere near the danger.

Nyx started to cry, seeming to sense the fear from the two adults.

Just as Cassian reached altitude, a net came from nowhere.

It was almost glowing blue and Cassian hadn’t seen it coming.

Just as it wrapped itself around the Illyrian’s wings, two dozen arrows flew at them.

Cassian managed to pivot his body to shield Y/N and Nyx from being hit, taking all the arrows himself.

He growled in pain.

And next thing Y/N knew, they were crashing back to the ground.

“Cassian!” She shrieked in fear for him.

But she called to the wind and it slowed their descent, though not enough to completely break their fall.

Cassian’s siphons glowed red, shielding them from getting hurt in the rough landing. Y/N still protected Nyx with her own body as best she could.

Cassian struggled to get up. But he stood tall as he unsheathed the long sword he seemed to always have strapped to his back.

He readied himself as those thirty soldiers suddenly came running towards them.

“Y/N, run!” He shouted over his shoulder

And she did as she was told, knowing staying with Cassian would only endanger all three of them more.

Y/N sprinted as fast as she could down the peak without losing her footing and tumbling.

But what she had originally feared was already occurring: the soldiers split up, half going for Cassian and the other half following after Y/N and Nyx.

Cassian couldn’t defend himself and go after Y/N at the same time.

“Fuck,” Y/N muttered as she gasped for breath.

New plan.

She stopped and went for the pack that she now always had at her side.

Inside was a pouch of salt, and she fisted a handful of it, pouring a circle around her and Nyx. Then she took another handful of salt and drew a protective knot on the ground with it.

Nyx was crying harder now, hearing clashes of swords and grunts of pain from Cassian taking down soldiers one by one.

Y/N turned to the toddler and handed him a tightly wrapped smudge of rosemary, sage, cedar, and lavender.

"Keep this close, Nyx."

Nyx’s crying hesitated for a moment as he grasped the strange toy, as if he could understand her.

Y/N whipped around just as the soldiers neared, and unsheathed the knife she carried.

A gust of wind shot towards the attack, so strong that it knocked the first wave of fae to the ground. But the other half remained and raised their swords, bringing them down onto Y/N.

But a shield had been formed from the salt and Y/N’s protective spell.

As the soldiers stumbled from the impact of hitting an imaginary wall, Y/N leapt out of her protective circle and sliced across the nearest fae’s throat.

Maybe her only chance of surviving this was to pick them off one by one.

She turned to quickly retreat back into the circle that only she could enter.

But she wasn’t quick enough, and her back was grazed by the sword of another male.

Y/N cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

She turned onto her back, expecting to be given a life ending strike.

But the wind had other ideas and hit the soldiers with another hurricane-level gust.

“Kill the witch!” One of them screamed. “We must grab the babe before the High Lord and his whore get here!”

Y/N looked to Nyx, who was weeping, but still clutching the smudge tightly.

Her protective circle could not hold forever, not against fae.

Rhysand! Feyre! Nyx is in danger! Y/N tried to mentally scream to them.

She had no idea how daemati powers worked, but she had to try.

With shaky feet, she rose to her feet. She sheathed her knife once again at her back. Instead, grabbing a discarded sword of a fae who had been tossed away by the wind.

Y/N’s arms shook from the weight of the sword as she raised it and stood between the soldiers and Nyx.

They seemed careful to approach her now, unsure of the extent of her powers.

“Come on then,” Y/N growled, tightening her grip.

One rushed for her while another tried to dodge to the side and get to Nyx. But he was thrown back by the shield.

Y/N’s stomach sank. She could feel the strength of the protective circle draining. Only a few more hits like that, and it would break.

But she couldn’t dwell on that any longer.

A sword came crashing down on her.

Y/N managed to lift her sword just fast enough to block the hit. But the male used his own momentum to swing his non-sword arm and punch her across the face, knocking her to the ground. The hit knocked her own sword out of her hands, feet away.

He hovered over her. “You have tricks, witch. But you are no match for fae.”

Y/N clenched her teeth and swung her leg between his legs, hitting his privates.

The male hissed in pain and stumbled back a few steps.

Y/N shot back to her feet purely from adrenaline, “Nice to see that part hurts you, too.” And unsheathed her knife, jabbing it into the fae’s jugular.

Before his comrades could follow his attack and finish the job, an explosion of night surrounded them.

It lasted only seconds.

But when Y/N regained her sight, the army was on the ground. Dead. Eyes lifelessly staring up at the sky.

Y/N looked around, confused.

She saw Rhysand first, walking toward her with fury in his eyes. Then her gaze found Feyre, only a few steps behind her mate.

“Cassian!” Y/N gasped. Only now having a moment to worry about his state.

She looked up the peak to see Azriel rushing toward Cassian, who looked like he was about to fall over. He was covered in blood, with a dozen arrows sticking out of his back and a few caught in his massive wings.

It took Y/N a moment to process that they were safe.

And with the end of the battle, also came the end of her adrenaline.

“Rhys!” Feyre cried out when she realized there was a shield around her son, stopping her from reaching him.

Y/N blinked, everything was moving so slowly.

Why was it hard to focus her gaze?

With the wave of her hand, a final breeze came, blowing her salt circle apart, breaking the protective shield.

She watched as Rhysand and Feyre clutched their child.

Then Y/N's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed to the ground.

–––––––

Eris walked through one of Autumn Court’s war camps, talking with his commanders and receiving updates on the state of their armies.

That’s when he felt it.

Fear.

Eris held up his hand to silently signal to the commander to quiet himself.

“General?” He asked Eris after a moment.

Eris had to remain calm. He couldn't raise suspicion, even amongst the men he fought alongside at every turn.

It couldn’t be her, surely?

But he continued their conversation, trying to keep his face like stone and his posture rigid.

Only a few minutes passed when he felt the pain.

It was like a strike of lighting across his back. So biting that Eris gasped and actually stumbled a few steps.

“General, are you alright?”

She’s hurt. Y/N is hurt. She’s in danger, Eris’ mind said over and over again.

The mating bond had his heart racing. Whether it was from Y/N’s fear or his own, Eris didn’t know.

He made sure to sound curt and harsh as he snapped to his men, “I have other matters to attend to, Commander. See to it that my requests are filled before my next visit or there will be consequences.”

With that, he winnowed to the Forest House.

Eris kept his pace normal as he made his way to his private quarters.

If the bargain hadn’t killed Rhysand, Eris would do it himself.

–––––––––––

What did you think?

How will Rhysand and Feyre react to Y/N protecting Nyx?

What do you think Eris is gonna do? 😬

Please send me a message and reblog 😔😔😔

chapter v

#gust & flame #gust & flame chapter iv #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #autumn court #cassian acotar #cassian #rhysand #lady of autumn #inner circle

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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

Text

Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 16

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan, @rebleforkicks, @yjrevolution, @majahu, @honey-wine, @accio-boys, @achromaticerebus, @solomonssimp, @tired-ass-show-girl, @dreamlessnight, @daddy-long-legolas,

The walk down the hall from the library was one of the longest of your life as you tried to figure out whether or not the King had some ulterior motive. Was he lulling you into a false sense of security? Though you couldn’t come to any reason why he would need to do that other than the fact that you had built up such an image of him in your head that everything about him seemed to trigger your paranoia. It was maddening but you focused on keeping yourself upright as you trailed along beside him in the direction of your room.

“How many in your village can read?” Thranduil asked after a long silence, turning just slightly so he could look at you.

It took you off guard as you glanced up at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Uh.” You shook your head, grasping for words. “Not many.” You admitted, shrugging.

“But you can.” It was not a question. Thranduil knew lots about most, if not all, of the villages surrounding Mirkwood and yours in particular was quite a small, poor one. Not many people prioritised learning to read and write and he was quite intriged to find that you were different.

Nodding, you clasped your hands in front of you, looking around at the architecture of this place once more, unable to help yourself. The magnificence of it still overwhelmed you. “Yes. My father taught me... when I was small.” Your expression fell slightly at the thought of your father. You missed him. A lot.

Thranduil sighed when you mentioned your father and you took it negatively, turning to look at him with a frown. “My father is a good man.” You said firmly.

“I said nothing to the contrary.” Thranduil replied, waving a dismissive hand, keeping his voice steady.

“You did not need to!” Your feet stilled as you stopped walking. You stood half-glaring up at him as you watched him turn around, irritation clear in his eyes, but you found that you didn’t care. You loved your father, he was all you had and you were all he had. Legolas had told you he had not been in his right mind when he had stumbled upon this kingdom and you believed him. Your father was not at fault - he would never hurt anybody, not intentionally. “How can you be so cold?”

“That is not how you address your King, Girl.” Thranduil’s voice had dropped considerably, a clear warning laced through his tone like ice.

Now, this was the King you recognised. “I have a name, you know.”

Another silence fell over you both. You could have heard a pin drop in that hallway as Thranduil stared you down and you stared back, not wanting to give in to him. You had never met anyone more frustrating or more confusing in your entire life. How did he switch so rapidly from mean to kind and back again. Was it all false? A lie? It seemed very possible.

Thranduil’s face was as blank as a blank sheet of parchment but his mind was working on overdrive. He was faced with the fact that you were being outrageously disrespectful, to a king no less. You, his prisoner who he had allowed to roam freely in his kingdom. He was also faced with the fact that he understood where it was coming from and the fact that he had been trying to be nicer. He had been determined to, in his own way, make some sort of amends - show gratitude for what you had done after the encounter with the orcs in the forest. So why were you making it so difficult?!

“You are right.” Thranduil said after another moment of pure silence, surprising you. Your frown disappeared and you stared at him in disbelief, having been anticipating an argument or for him to grab your arm like he’d done after finding you in the West Wing. Thranduil said your name then and you blinked, not having believed that he had actually even known it. “I apologise.” And with that, he turned and continued down the hall towards the room you were staying in.

You stood there for a second longer than necessary, staring dumbly at the waterfall of his hair that ran down his back, and then you forced yourself to move. Walking after him, you found the anger had gone out of you. Instead of glaring at him, you eyed him curiously as you both travelled across a walkway.

Finally coming to your room, you held in a sigh of relief, reaching for the door handle so you could let yourself in. Though your previous irritation at the Elvenking had lessened after his apology... apology! You could hardly believe the words had actually left his mouth. You turned to look at him once you’d stepped through the doorway, to bid him goodnight, and found him studying you.

Thranduil couldn’t deny that he was curious. To himself, at any rate, if anyone were to ask him outright he would act as if it was the most ridiculous notion in Middle Earth. He had been full of frustration and derision when his son had decided to take you under his wing like a little mortal pet but he couldn’t quite shake that there was something... he couldn’t put his finger on it but he quite wanted to figure out what was bothering him so much.

“Meet me here after lunch on the morrow.” He said, before you could shut the door in his face. “I wish to show you something.”

Then, once more, he left you standing there, staring after him in confusion and surprise as he turned and swept away.

Hours later, your father opened his eyes slowly, groaning at the pain in the back of his head. It was no longer dark, he could see the sky above him clearly as he rolled over and pulled himself upright into a sitting position. It appeared to be morning. Frowning, he looked around, slowly coming to terms with his new surroundings. The grass beneath him, the trees at his back. The last thing he remembered was being in the very forest that he was waking beside just now.

What happened?

He stood and turned briefly, peering through the treeline but he couldn’t see anything. Where had Vermund and Oeric gone? They had been with him, had they not? It came back to him in flashes. The arrows - elves, one of which he had recognised as the one he had attacked when he had been captured and imprisoned. Then what? Then... blackness. But the elves had been in his line of vision - the blow had come from Vermund, from behind him, right across the back of his head. Rendering him unconscious.

He turned away, full of anger, and started off over the field, realising he recognised the way to the village from here. He had not been able to retrieve you, his mission failing, but he would get more help and he would return. He would rescue you.

Two pairs of eyes watched his retreat from up in a nearby tree.

Tauriel shook her head sadly as she watched the man go. At least he was okay but she had been worried for a while there that the blow to the head would prove to be too much. It had all happened so fast. She and Legolas had gone off in search of the voices they had heard in the woods, coming across the three men. Legolas recognised one as your father and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was doing back in these woods. Coming for you. Probably trying to ‘save’ you and Legolas would have reassured him that you were being cared for if it had not all kicked off quite so quickly.

The larger of the other two men had started swinging, but not at Legolas. He had struck your poor father over the head and pushed him directly into Tauriel, knocking her off balance as he took her by surprise. Neither of the two had expected the men to attack one of their own. He had drawn his sword and fought his way back, using the smaller man as a shield. Legolas had wanted to go after them but he had been torn when he realised that your father was actually unconscious. He’d let them go, something he did not plan on telling his father, and turned to help Tauriel.

The two of them had helped him as best they could, Tauriel using a little athelas on his head wound, though unfortunately he would be left with a headache.

“He will come back.” Tauriel said, jumping down from the tree and readying herself for the journey back to the camp they had left.

“I know.” Legolas shrugged, sighing as he followed her. “He is reckless. He will not make it through the forest alone.” And from the looks of it, he did not have many true allies that he could rally together and bring with him. Legolas worried he would get himself killed and you would be heartbroken. “Come, Tauriel. This detour has added an extra day on to our return journey.”

“He is just scared for his only daughter.” Tauriel said, walking ahead through the trees, so ready to be home after the gruelling patrol. She could not wait to be able to properly bathe.

As tired as you had been back in the library, you still found yourself unable to sleep for a good few hours, tossing and turning as the time ticked by. You had never been so confused and frustrated in your entire life. It was the Elvenking’s doing, of course, you weren’t foolish enough not to realise that, but you just simply could not figure him out. One moment he was terrifying you, practically to tears. The next he was acting... you didn’t even know what to call it. Nice. Kind. He even apologised. He said the words I apologise... out loud. To your face!

You tried not to think about it but you were a little anxious about tomorrow. Scratch that, you were a lot anxious about tomorrow. Why did he want to see you after lunch? What was he going to show you? The last thing you were in the mood for was another argument but, truthfully, despite the ups and downs of his emotions you were kind of... excited about it. Maybe excited was the wrong word, you didn’t know. You were something about it and that would be as much as you would touch upon that for now.

Rolling onto your side, you squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself off to sleep, doing your very best not to think about Thranduil’s arms around you as he prevented you from falling on your face in the library that evening.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #middle earth x reader #beauty and the beast

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clockwork-sparrow · 7 months

Text

Tales from the Frost

Stories following the conclusion of the RP Arc, TOWER.

Stories: 1 [2] 3 4

You were my Best Friend

Witless oaf, Minerva thinks. That he assumes flowers and a pathetic smile can even begin to address his mistakes. She sits on the park bench, radiating infinite poise and chill, and irritably wonders where this puts her, then. Because while he’s a fool who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, she’s the one waiting.

“Min--”

“Don’t. Only my friends can call me that,” she cuts him off.

The corner of Rainer’s mouth tugs back. He sheepishly hovers around her with a gap stretched taut between them, insurmountable and widening like a fissure. She narrows her eyes at him.

“Out with it. What did you come here to say?”

“...Ah. Well.” Rainer fidgets until the stems of his bouquet are bruised. “Well, Min.”

Minerva’s eyebrow twitches. She inhales and holds it in.

“We were friends, once,” he says quietly. His voice dwindles further, spiraling like a plane with a shot-off wing. “Best friends, even.”

“Were.”

“Were,” Rainer agrees. He looks at Minerva’s boots. “We were a lot of things.”

“And we’re not anymore,” Minerva enunciates.

“No. We’re not.”

Minerva doesn’t move. She barely even breathes. Over twenty years of her life have been spent doing damage control for Rainer’s impulsive, unthoughtful actions and now he’s here, talking about what they were before he slept with a terrorist and flaunted a bastard son in her face. She’s been so busy filling in for his inadequacies that she hasn’t processed it much. The hurt’s nearly as sharp as it was on the day she found out.

“You need to leave,” she tells him.

“I will.” Rainer breathes in deeply. “I will, but not before saying I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late.”

“I know, but I’m sorry.” Rainer glances up and meets her eyes. Her unflinching judgment. “I should have told you.”

“What? You should have told me that you were cheating on me?” Minerva scoffs. “It would have changed nothing.”

“Even if you don’t understand why I did it, you deserved to know. I shouldn’t have hid so much from you,” Rainer confesses. He pauses, wets his lip, and swallows before continuing. “It would have changed nothing but, maybe, it could have.”

Minerva rolls her eyes but beneath her fury is a bone deep exhaustion. She’s stood alone for so long and despite the hurt and betrayal, she remembers simpler times. Tainted, yes, but nostalgia, fondness, and yearning regardless.

“But you didn’t tell me. You didn’t choose me.” Minerva’s eyes flick to the earring dangling on Rainer’s ear. “And even now, you’re still warming the bed for someone long gone...Was it worth it, Rainer? Was love worth it?”

Rainer stands straighter.

“Love makes you come alive, like you’re full of fire and stars, free and finally whole,” he says. “And I want that for you, too. I really do.”

“What is this, pity?” Minerva murmurs. “Pity for an old crone?”

“No, it’s just--” Rainer combs a hand through his hair. “It’s just, you were never going to get that from me, and I’m sorry! I’m sorry, and there’s not a day where I wish it didn’t all fall onto your shoulders, but maybe that burden -- maybe it shouldn’t have existed from the start. Maybe if we weren’t caught in systems that groomed and expected so much of us, then maybe, maybe we could have been...been.....”

“Been what? Friends?” Minerva says in disbelief. “Best friends? Us?”

Guilt and frustration grounds Rainer into momentary silence. He exhales hotly. “Yes, friends. We could’ve been normal friends! We could’ve been what we wanted to be instead of, oh, I don’t know. Arranged everything. Bullcrap.” Unfiltered honesty spills freely from Rainer as he speaks, anguish building toward a crescendo. “But Min, those systems are gone. Those systems are gone and now it's just us. Everyone is dead. Everyone is dead and I...”

Rainer swallows again. Both of them hear his words before he speaks them; the sentence completes in their heads.

“I can’t lose you too.”

Neither of them have anything to say after that and neither of them look away. Like two rangers locked in a quick draw duel, Rainer and Minerva remain frozen in each other’s presence, hurt, aching, and wanting. Minerva eventually breaks the standoff by tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes and breathes out.

“...Let’s try this again.”

#ff14 rp #Minerva Dus Celsus #Rainer Oen Celsus #Tales from the Frost

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cerulianvermillion · 1 year

Text

Just wanted to clear the misunderstanding on this post

about this post (Zhongli and money)

Also disclaimer DO NOT SEND HATE TO THE ORIGINAL PERSON WHO POSTED THIS CRITICISM.

But I'd like to clear the air anyway to avoid further misunderstanding.

First of all, I completely understand where this person is coming from. It's completely valid and makes a lot of sense! In hindsight, when I re-read the post, it does come across as giving the impression that I think he's uncaring. I'd hate for more people to misunderstand, so allow me to elaborate.

But I'd like to say that in fact, I think of the opposite. I don't think he's someone who's simply a cold businessman! My point when I said that "he doesn't care", is not that he doesn't care about his people at all, or that he only looks for luxury. In fact, I think that he does not care about his own condition.

Yes, in fact, I do think that even if he has an eye of detail, he would still find a humble clay figurine made by a child something valuable. This is exactly my point- the fact that he would pay something made by heart or something with sentimentality much higher than what the set selling price probably is, because he finds something like that valuable. Precious. This matters to him, he cares. It does not matter to him that it's higher than the selling price, it does not matter to him that he's spending more than necessary, he doesn't care about the fact that the rest of the world thinks that he's losing money- Because the sentimental value of the item is valuable to him, and that's what matters to Zhongli.

When I said that he does not need or see the value in things regular mortals sell- and I absolutely understand where the misunderstanding came from, it's definitely this line- the point that I was trying to make was that Zhongli is not human, so it's only natural that he views the value of things differently than we do. He does not require the things that regular mortals need in order to survive (food, water, etc).

This was my mistake- I left it vague and unclear, and I did not clarify my point.

The original point that I was trying to address was that he isn't "broke" or poor.

Why do I think this? Because Zhongli is not a reckless person. He's not an idiot, and saying that he doesn't understand economics or transactions at all is just detrimental to his character. He cares about Liyue and he loves his people very much. If he does not understand economics or transactions, then he would've placed his people in an incredibly precarious position. It would imply that in this case, he really does not care about his people's wellbeing because it doesn't matter to him what the state of their economy is, and that he would've left them without even thinking of such things or caring about the consequences.

We know that this isn't the case.

We do know that he understands business, he understands economics, based on the fact that in previous rite of descensions, he would be speaking out predictions related to economics or business to his people. He's also never explicitly mentioned to be poor or broke, just that he constantly forgets/doesn't carry his wallet around. Like I said before, it's not that he's bad with money, it's that he's bad with his money.

Because as Geo Archon, everything he does will affect the people- his choices, his words, his actions. But as the "mortal" consultant of the Wangsheng funeral parlor- that weight is no longer on his shoulders. His every action will no longer risk his people- thus, he can spend his own money freely. he does not have to worry about placing his people in danger anymore.

This is what I meant when I say he doesn't care.

That now, he can spend mora the way he sees value- and it might be bad for his personal budgeting, he might pay much higher than the retail price, he might buy things considered unnecessary- because those things do not matter to him. Again- he pays what he thinks is the appropriate price, he buys things that he thinks are precious or valuable, that he thinks are worth it. If a handpainted fan costs 100 mora, for example, but Zhongli thinks the handiwork is worth 200 mora, then he'll pay 200 mora. If he sees an antique he believes has historical value, he'll purchase it regardless. And honestly, this is overcompensation, in a way, this can be seen as recklessness. But he will never do things that will be detrimental to his people.

Like you said, he is learning! he is doing his best to adjust, because that is definitely not easy. he doesn't understand Mora like a mortal does, but he is trying- both because he'd like to fit in, and also because, again, he wouldn't want to be a burden. But it still does not erase the fact that he still sees value differently, that he still won't pay less than what he believes something is worth. It's a balancing act for Zhongli.

Yeah.

So in regards to all that, I'd like to apologize if I said anything offensive, it was absolutely not my intention at all.

To the person who posted the criticism, I hope they'll see the post so the misunderstanding would be cleared. Honestly, I hope that we could have a discussion about Zhongli. He is my absolute favourite, largely because of how complex he is, and I think it'd be wonderful to talk about him to someone who care equally as much about his character.

I still stand by my point, though. Zhongli is a lot of things but he is not an idiot.

Again, disclaimer, do not send hate, that person's opinion and thoughts are entirely valid.

#genshin impact #zhongli #原神 #morax #rex lapis #yanwang dijun #genshin thoughts #genshin lore #meta #genshin meta #mora #headcanon and canon #discussion

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haledamage · 1 year

Note

Chin for Kira and Adam 👀👀

[ CHIN ]: as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly.

A bit of closure I found missing from TWC book 3. Spoilers for pretty much the whole book. 1700 words, Kira/Adam, also starring my truest Wayhaven OTP, Kira/Emotional Vulnerability because my girl thinks she’s Elsa. You can’t “conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know” your way out of this one, Kingston, with musical guest “Adam’s attempt to distance himself is no match for Kira being sad”

There was an envelope on the kitchen table that had Kira’s name on it.

She approached it cautiously, half expecting it to be another fancy invite to some horrifying auction. When nothing jumped out of the shadows or attempted to kidnap her, she gave in to her gnawing curiosity and picked it up.

It looked like a perfectly normal letter, addressed to “Agent Kingston” with the facility’s address underneath. A yellow sticky note was attached to the front covered in Rebecca’s familiar, tidy handwriting:

“Kira, This letter was given to me by mistake. I apologise for opening it, but I promise I stopped reading as soon as I realised it was written to you.”

Kira laughed fondly to herself at her mother’s message. Always so formal, even when accidentally committing mail fraud.

She turned the envelope over to find the neat slit that had been cut across the top, and pulled out the simple sheet of notebook paper inside. She didn’t recognise the handwriting, so she scanned the note quickly to see who it was from and why:

The Agency told me this was the best way to get in touch with you. I really hope they gave me the right person because otherwise I’m going to sound crazy. I guess there are two Agent Kingstons here? This is for the one in Unit Bravo, so if you aren’t her, can you get this to her? Thanks.

Hi. You probably don’t remember me. But I wanted to thank you for saving my life. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be in Trapper custody now. Or worse.

I don’t know how you did it. The last thing I remember was that big man with wings taking me, and then I woke up in the hospital a few days ago. The doctors said someone found me unconscious in town and brought me in.

The rest of the words on the page blurred as Kira’s eyes filled with tears. Her knees gave out under her, and she didn’t bother trying to catch herself before she collapsed to the floor, clutching the letter tightly as she tried to breathe around the lump of emotion in her throat.

As if in a daze, she looked down at her arms, her mind conjuring the memory of long, jagged lacerations carved into them, and the girl that had done it. She remembered her face with vivid clarity, wide-eyed with terror as Sin had practically ripped her from Kira’s grasp.

Several of those marks had scarred, leaving a permanent reminder of that day etched into her skin. One of them bisected the tattoo on her wrist, the black crown broken into two uneven pieces. Numbly, she pressed her thumb to it; she could feel the frantic flutter of her own pulse underneath.

“Kira? Kira!”

She barely heard her name being called. The first time, cautious and surprised, or the second, harsher with the edge of fear.

But she felt it when Adam joined her on the floor. His arrival broke through her daze and what little remained of her composure, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Adam’s hands shook as he wiped them away. Kira could feel the tremble in his fingertips where they brushed her face. She covered his hands with her own before he could try to hide it, pressing them more firmly against her skin. Even after everything, she still craved his touch, greedy for every second of it she could get.

He swallowed hard, but didn’t pull away. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

She shook her head, attempting to give him a shaky smile. “Nothing. Everything is fine.” It sounded so ridiculous, she couldn’t help but laugh. It just sounded like a sob.

Finding the fallen letter on the floor, now tear-stained and partially crumpled, she held it out to him. She watched his expression as he scanned it, but whatever reaction he may have had never showed on his face.

Somehow, Kira’s voice remained strong, even if the rest of her was falling apart. “When she wasn’t with the others at the auction, I--I thought she was--” She didn’t know if she meant to say “dead” or “already sold”, or which would have been the worse fate. A new wave of tears came, and she squeezed her eyes shut as if it could stop them. “But she never made it to the auction. Sin never handed her over. He saved her.”

Adam hooked a finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to open her eyes and look at him. When she did, he smiled softly, eyes warm and shining with pride. “He didn’t save her, Kira.” His thumb brushed lightly over the swell of her bottom lip. “You did.”

A ragged sob tore its way out of her throat, and Kira buried her face in Adam’s shoulder before another one could escape. His arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap.

Through everything that had happened these last few weeks, Kira had refused to let herself cry. She had kept moving, one persistent step at a time, bottling up all her pain and fear and heartbreak. Through the bounty, and the kidnappings, and the breaking and slow mending of her friendship with Verda. Through too much work on too little sleep, and juggling more and more secrets, and buildings collapsing on her head. Through swallowing her rage as she met Anwir’s eyes and hiding it behind a hollow but convincing smile. Through the constant tidal flow of Adam’s affection, pulling her close only to push her away again while all she could do was try to weather the currents.

If she was honest with herself, she’d been fighting to hold everything in for a lot longer than that. Since Murphy’s assault on her apartment. Since she learned the truth about the supernatural. Maybe since the first moment Unit Bravo had stepped into her office.

But this one tiny, unexpected victory had shattered all her hard wrought restraint. The bottle was broken, and everything came pouring out.

Adam held her through all of it, warm and strong and solid, the only place in the world that she felt truly, completely safe. His hands were a soothing weight in her hair and down her spine, his voice a comforting rumble in her ear, though she was too far gone to process anything he was saying.

Even when Kira finally ran out of tears, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. That felt new. A delicate tendril of hope unfurled in her chest, and for once she let herself feel it without trying to push it away.

Taking a deep and blissfully unfettered breath, she sat up a little, just far enough to rest her temple against his cheekbone. “Thank you.”

Adam chuckled, a gentle and fond sound that made her heart do somersaults. “There is nothing you need to thank me for.”

She leaned back a little more so she could see his face. “For being here to put me back together. Again.” This time when she laughed, she sounded like herself again.

Adam brushed her hair out of her eyes before settling his hand against her cheek. “I will always be here for you, Kira.”

“I know.” And she did know, but it felt so good to hear it out loud. She mapped out the shape of his smile with her fingertips, tracing the curve of his lips and the slight indentations of his dimples. Committing all of it to memory. “I’m here for you too. Whenever you need me.”

“I know.” He almost sounded like he believed it. That was new too.

Before either of them could sabotage the moment by overthinking it, Kira leaned in and kissed him.

It was nothing like the first kiss they shared. There was no edge of despair or desperation, none of the bitter taste of “goodbye”. It was slow and sweet, heat simmering under the surface but never boiling over to become something else. Hungry, but without any bite.

Adam broke away first, gasping in a shaky breath, and Kira braced herself for the inevitable moment when he closed himself off again. With as raw as her emotions were, she’d need a little more time to swallow down the pain.

Except it never came.

When he turned away, it was only to brush his lips against the inside of her wrist. He trailed light kisses along the length of one of her new scars, followed by a firmer kiss on the broken crown tattoo, and a final one in the center of her palm.

He looked up at her, naked need in his eyes and his lips still pressed to her skin, and she forgot how to breathe.

It took every ounce of restraint she could muster for Kira not to immediately grab him and kiss him again.

Adam didn’t give her the opportunity. He dropped her hand and his gaze, suddenly unable to look at her anymore. Clearing his throat did nothing to make his voice less rough. “How do you feel?”

Weightless. Like if you keep kissing me like that, I could fly. “My head is fucking pounding.” It was also the truth, but a much safer one. Still, she couldn’t help but add, “Except for that, I feel great, actually.”

The glint in his eyes told her that maybe he’d heard the part she didn’t say, too. He knew her too well not to. “Then I shall make you some tea, to help with your headache.”

“Wait.” She grabbed his shoulders as soon as he started to move away, clenching her hands into his shirt like it would make any difference if he actually wanted to leave. “Can we… just stay like this a little longer?”

Adam didn’t respond except by settling back down on the floor. He leaned his back against a nearby side table, and then his arms wrapped around her again, pulling her close. Kira released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She rested her head on his shoulder and melted against him, trusting him to hold her up.

The rest of the world would still be waiting for them, when they finally decided to move. But for the first time in a long time, Kira felt ready to face it… eventually.

#rhi writes #twc #kira kingston #kira/adam #it bugged me that even though we as players knew what happened to that girl the detective never found out #so I wanted to give kira some closure and she decided 'oh I'm going to fall apart about this thanks'#sometimes you just gotta have an emotional breakdown in the kitchen at 10am ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#I like to think the rest of unit bravo started to walk in on them #but felix went NOPE LET THEM HAVE THIS and shooed nate and mason away before they could interrupt #(kira is one of those people who looks pretty when she cries and I hate her for this a little bit)

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hexedrosel-arts · 1 year

Text

Loves me not

Post before bed, this is word vomit

Warnings: Panic attacks and referenced/implied child neglect

Teddy was verbal when he showed love. He said his words freely.

It made him different from his family. His mother never spoke to her boys, always working, cooking, cleaning, anything but talking, even if the staff around the house would do such chores for her. On good days she would give her sons a hug though. His father was never present for him, acknowledgement from him was enough for Teddy. Then Felix, oh poor Felix, compliments from him were nothing, he never talked nice to Teddy, or anyone but father. Felix never showed affection the way their parents did, even if that was minimal anyways.

Teddy was open, the ray of light compared to his family, wearing red instead of the family’s blue.

But he never spoke like his mother, Felix thought his voice was annoying, father never said anything about his voice, but he was more pleasant when Teddy didn’t speak. So Teddy didn’t speak unless addressed, because that meant being seen by his father and a happy Felix. Teddy liked it when Felix was happy, he never smiled but he felt warmer, and he hugged him, only at night in their room before bed of course. When Felix was truly happy, he asked father to allow Teddy to wear his red suit, under the reason that it would be easier to identify the two from each other. But when he got his suit, Teddy saw Felix smile, little dimples that faded as quickly as they came. Felix muttered that he was now owed a debt from giving Teddy a suit he actually liked.

Teddy knew the other kids didn’t like Felix. That never saw the twins ever smile, even when getting their pictures taken.

He returned his debt by letting Felix into smart class. Many forget that the twins were on the same level of learning, Felix forgot himself. Teddy smiled at that though, in private with flowers he took from mother’s flower garden. He always plucked the green ones first, because he wanted friends over and one was allergic to them. Even though they stopped being friends when father found out, Teddy still did it, a little ritual. Every night, before bed he would take a flower, count the petals and pluck.

Felix loves me

Felix loves me not

Felix loves me

Felix loves me not

Felix loves me

Always counting before plucking, as to make sure it ends in love. Teddy made sure of it, because if it ends with that it was true. The only green flower he never plucked was the one at school, because when father found out about his friend, Felix told him to stop making friends. Felix made a plan to get rid of his friend, because of his mom’s business, he planned that with all the other kids though. Teddy’s smart friend because she could back stab Applesoft at any moment, the principal’s kid, because she was a snitch who meant no good. The other kids, though Teddy didn’t remember the reason. Teddy never had friends after they found out. It didn’t make him sad, because it made his brother happy, even if he doesn’t smile for anything unless father is happy with him.

The new kids didn’t know, they had only arrived that day.

The noise was too much that day, Teddy tried to ignore the pain and the noise, the pain of loneliness and the noise of everyone else having friends. The new girl approached him, asking him to be her boyfriend.

“My brother is the better choice, miss… Though I appreciate the offer.”

“Don’t put yourself like that! Do you want to be lonely forever? Cause acting like that is a good way-”

“He likes it, and if that makes him happy then I’ll do it happily. He’s my brother and I love him when he’s happy like that”

Teddy never stands his ground, he just wanted to be left alone, to get to lunch and back to Felix. Back to safety, where someone could talk some sense into his head. The girl left, for a little bit, Teddy hoped that she would be quick.

“Hey, does your brother say he loves you back?”

“Why does that matter to you? I can’t speak to you, he wouldn’t like it, he’ll be mad and not happy…” “So he doesn’t, he doesn’t love you like you do.”

He looked at the girl, eyes widened. The tears were preparing to fall,

“Go away! He does, the flowers say so. He isn’t allowed to say it but he does!”

The tears fell, but he stayed soft spoken, because yelling when he cried made Felix upset. Felix couldn’t see or hear him, but he was to be respected, after all Teddy loves him.

A handkerchief dries his tears, the new girl was sitting next to him now, he could feel eyes upon him but he ignored it. The only thoughts were how he would disappoint Felix by crying in school.

“I’m not usually this nice, but how sad. Being someone with a brother who doesn’t love them.”

“Cindy, could you give him a moment? Nugget thinks he needs a breather.”

“I agree with Nugget on this one, which is a surprise.”

“Leave him alone, new kid, he needs it…”

“Hey Felix, do you know that if you squeeze someone’s hand three times, it means you love them?”

It was gym, father wanted to keep his kids active. Teddy was happy the end of the day came as quickly as it started. His face wasn’t as red as it was lunch, luckily Felix was busy with another kid. But Felix seemed worried, even though his face never showed those feelings. His eyes did, Teddy studied them all the time. Passing the ball, it stopped at Felix’s feet, Teddy looked up confused,

“Felix are you okay?”

“Theodore, what happened before lunch?”

Those cold eyes filled with worry softened for the first time in months. Teddy almost cried again, but he froze, looking away he said it was nothing. After all, Felix didn’t need to know that he cried over nothing, just like the dumb kid he was.

“Theodore, you answer me properly.”

“Nothing.”

“Theodore, you don’t cry over nothing.”

Teddy looked back, Felix got closer, dodgeball forgotten. Closer, Teddy backed away, Felix kept walking towards him, worrying was filling his face more. Teddy kept going away, tears started forming again when he hit the wall and Felix held his hand.

“Felix please understand. I- I didn’t cry, I just got a sunburn, yeah a sunburn on my face.”

“I’m not mad, I just want the truth, father can’t hear us here. We can speak to each other.”

No one was looking this time, too busy, Teddy cried, he couldn’t speak anymore. It would hurt Felix, Felix would tell father, Teddy would be ignored again for talking with the new kids, the pain would increase. Everything felt blurry, the floor spun, Felix’s eyes just kept staring though. Then Teddy felt a squeeze, then a second and a third.

“Teddy breath, what are three things you see?”

“You, the-the wall, and a basketball.”

“That’s good, three things you can hear?”

“Your voice” Teddy hiccupped, “and someone arguing… I think. My own voice. Sorry”

“You’re doing well Teddy, okay move at least three parts of your body.”

Teddy moved closer to Felix, resting his head on his shoulder. Still crying, but the world didn’t spin anymore. He hugged Felix, feeling Felix squeeze his hand again, three times,

“Hey Teddy, remember when you said that squeezing someone’s hand meant you loved them?”

Calm was Felix’s demeanor, another three squeezes, and another, and another. Teddy cried harder, trying to keep himself quiet.

“...I… I love you Teddy. I promise, even when father says not to. It’s going to be okay, I know it’s hard to believe, I’m not good at saying it… I just wish I could, that I could hear you say it again.”

“But you said my voice was annoying, you said that it reminded you about how dumb I am.”

The bell rang before Felix couldn’t respond. He returned back to his school self, but he held Teddy’s hand when they left school, three squeezes as he helped clean Teddy’s face, removing most of the red. Before the driver picked them up, three squeezes before returning to the same Felix that everyone sees.

Teddy was verbal when he showed love. He used to say his words freely. Felix wasn’t verbal. Felix squeezed Teddy’s hands, and sometimes he hugged Teddy, only when no one could see, or rather when father couldn’t see. Felix had troubles saying he loved Teddy, but it didn’t stop him from trying. He lied to father about Teddy having no friends, about wanting to kill Teddy. Anything to keep father pleased, even if that meant digging his brother’s grave. Even losing himself, losing Teddy as well, because Felix loved Teddy. If he kept Teddy safe from Father, Teddy would love him back.

Felix watched as Teddy died, no longer speaking, no longer whispering every time he went to smart class that he loved him, or to have a good day. Felix noticed, but he couldn’t say anything, because father would find out, he always does. Felix kept his blank face on during the car ride home, he glanced at Teddy, he looked presentable if father even bothered to notice him today.

Father didn’t though, mother didn’t talk about it if she did. They never thought about Teddy, even though he was family, it was the twin with his mother’s eyes and father’s intelligence that was important. Not the twin who was just like his father in everything but personality. Felix went into the garden, feigning interest in seeing what flowers were growing, he plucked a flower, a red one.

Loves him

Loves him not

Loves him

Loves him not

Felix didn’t believe what the flowers said, but Teddy did. He plucked one for Teddy’s sake, even though Felix always ended on loves him not. Because he knows they don’t love Teddy. But it’s okay, Felix loves Teddy. He just can’t say it, he can’t say it like Teddy could, not out loud, without a care.

…Felix plucked another flower, ending it with loves him, because he loved Teddy.

#Hexed-writing #kindergarten 2 #kindergarten game #kindergarten felix #Kindergarten Ted #tw panic attack

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libidomechanica · 4 days

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Anthea bade me

Which my manhood, listening valley’s employs for someone your waters began to do. No double bellman of songs; for to behold there. So littleneck is frantic. Yon bade this life’s off his virtues, like to music, either vow, she was

Werther wiping untimely without the rest light whose ever kings, must not? The word! Secured of his delight eyes looked me. And with all her is play his tricken by thou, my deathmasks into me, love, but thereupon, in that home. Than I

shalt heart at all song of the long to marry yet; I’m grows. Should in body and leg, and Just his second time me neare Heart that, breast, sure, twas real and there, my darkening, Fools where we do together praying our word she not asking roar’d,

assembling lines her so; but much deplore, but merely she dream remembers quite, twas her careless you let woe grief the curious master the sandhills, have broke from the piece of season gone sing,—why nothings renown; for two and all my life

perfection mixed into my throughts are end the shall pay heart all. The dream of breakfast, that Women are! Then firstly, my testable where hereupon, wondered bow looked black—sailed and stroke, subdue the man! To run fast, alas, from it be all

hear domestic stream of you! And brave,—death-bed over and my blisse, had all I’m made the tendeth! On a space … nor recompelled her share. Go the left me Latin in time staid, I’ll and passengers, appear before— so dead, ere you, and

that Fount drew men’s ebb, and God into our heart freely children round their fragrant stil keep him, he lady. How them both its great he spoils of air town’s fiddling curls, and talking how she gift which, with some frae my brown. God slate be effigies

a sound eyes.—Address, which make his arrow i’ the steep require former many world know wraps my should flown afterward, puts of friend’s heaven sat once a pitty. So pure common now the rusted her spangle going me, and leg, and

buds beneath no meaning go the worth want below; the star, and that flie, ever crying, ever swell the hills, have with him? Man, of love’s too much the sounds over in tight, features only at the breast, a short and he soul did not, tastings!

As though his second tired to mound commixed, pulled … but your tropical assistant mind white skin lies delight waiting crime of admirations were better, since. Low and briefly to her so through town; so, in my knew not underwater.

Said she when we might determine, entrance; cheerful, but him down in the Pasty luscious Eyes and cast up from it be all the Court, loves, and my Cupid bill, and so the earth— and found still swell? Thy life finding ear a passions the saved

two souls unborn expect of charm o’ the keeps its longing aft had not be able world? Comes to a visitors, guardians, and straiteness rest gift refuse and the early! Fortune hang. And the good for Julia, though I have I cries.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #132 texts #ballad

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afanoffiction · 5 months

Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me - Chapter 1

Matt Murdock x afab original character

Words: 4K ish

Warnings: fluff, Matt Murdock flirting, courtroom scene, mention of kidnapping, kissing, superpowered original character, black girl oc

Notes: this is my first fic ever! Please be nice to me! Ignore egregious typos! Read chapters 1 & 2 on A03

“Do you swear to tell the whole truth?”

“Yes”

Matt Murdock was not working this case but he was very invested. He was seated in the gallery of the courtroom on a Thursday afternoon listening carefully.

A child had been kidnapped, missing for 2 weeks last month. The witness that was just sworn in somehow knew exactly where she was being held. Matt had been searching every night on his patrol but couldn’t find any leads. He had to know, how did this person know?

“Can you state your name for the record?”

“Viola Gates”

The state prosecutor continued, “if I have this correct, you called law enforcement and let them know exactly where the victim was?”

“Yes I did”

“And they promptly arrested you”

“They did and I expected that, because I was correct and I understand how that is suspicious.”

“Can you explain how you knew?”

She took a long deep breath and slowly let it out. Matt could hear her heartbeat quicken, and then even out. Nerves probably.

“I have prophetic dreams. The defendant came to me in a dream and told me the exact address of where he was holding her.”

“Like a superpower?”

“Uh, I guess?” She didn’t know exactly what to say, “I have never been wrong but I’ve never thought about it that way.”

“So you are going on the record claiming to be an enhanced individual?” The prosecutor used air quotes with his fingers around “enchanted.”

“Sure, yes I am. I guess that’s not abnormal these days”

“I suppose not,” he continued, “you said the defendant came to you in a dream, is that the same man?” He pointed to the defendant across the room.

“Yes it was,” she said.

“So you knew him?”

“No I didn’t know him but I had met him at least once,” she very clearly stated.

“At least once?”

“It is impossible to dream about a face you’ve never seen, even if you’re enchanted,” she also used the air quotes around the word. “Your brain doesn’t create faces out of thin air. I can only dream about people I’ve seen and usually have talked to.”

“So you’ve talked to the defendant?”

“The only time I remember was at work. I sing at a club most nights of the week and he came up to me once after my set. Tried to hit on me, buy me some drinks. I’m used to some patrons being creepy, and he definitely gave off a bad vibe but I just brushed him off. It wasn’t until 2 nights later that I had the dream.”

The prosecutor was listening intently holding his chin with his finger and thumb. Nodding his head as she gave more details, taking a beat before asking his next question.

“So, you have a dream where the defendant tells you where the child is, but you didn’t know his name?”

“I couldn’t remember,” she said with some frustration, “he only told me the address in my dream. When I woke up I immediately wrote it down. He had only told me his name once at the club, I’m bad with names but great with faces”

She wasn’t lying at all, Matt was still focused on her heartbeat as she spoke. He was shocked, not only that this was an enhanced person but that she just freely and publicly let everyone know about her power.

She continued, “that’s why I was not surprised at all when I was arrested. Of course they brought me in before I was able to explain how I knew and I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t believe me.”

“And you’ve only met him once, but you’ve never met the child?”

“Nope,” she shook her head, “of course I’d seen her and her name on the news but I don’t know her or her family”

“And you’re really always right?” He asked.

“I am, truly! You can ask any of my friends or family. Usually it’s not this high of stakes but if I have a dream about anyone telling me something, they’ll confirm that it’s true.”

“Now that we’ve met will you let me know if you dream about me, if I need to avoid anything?”

“Objection,” the defense cut through the courtrooms laughter, “relevance your honor?”

“I’m sure we’d all like to know if you had information for anyone of us!” The judge said as he looked over at her with a smile.

“That’s all from me your honor,” the prosecutor went back to his seat.

Matt listened to the defense cross examine her, but nothing new came to light. They definitely tried to discredit her, question if she truly was always right. But did it matter if she was right all the time, or only that she was right this once?

When they were done for the day Viola was swarmed outside the courthouse by press. He listened to her state the same facts and answer many of the same questions that she heard on the stand. He knew he had to speak with her and waited patiently for her to finish with reporters.

He caught up with her as she started walking down the street. He very smoothly slid his cane into the side of her shoe to get her attention, apologizing quickly

“Excuse me Miss. Gates, can I just tell you that you were amazing on the stand. I’m also a lawyer and I know how nerve racking it can be up there”

“Thank you I appreciate that, are you on the states team? Or the defense? Should I be talking to you?” She said with a laugh.

“Oh no,” he said, “I was just in the gallery, I took a special interest in the case and thought I could learn something from the trial. My name is Matt Murdock” he switched his cane to his other hand as he reached out for a handshake.

“Viola, nice to meet you Matt,” she took his hand firmly as she started to turn towards the crosswalk.

“I was wondering i to f I could talk to you,” he said still holding her hand in his, “I’ve had clients who were enhanced myself and have some questions about your experience.”

She slipped her hand out of his grasp, “enhanced, huh,” she let out a chuckle. “I’m not an avenger or anything, I’m just a person”

“Ok Viola, person, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Viola couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark glasses, but took a second to look over his smile. He seemed friendly enough.

“Sure, I’d actually love some coffee. I’m a little exhausted”

They walked over to a diner he knew, slid into a booth and ordered their coffee.

“How can I help you Mr Murdock?”

“Well,” he leaned in a little to whisper, “I’m curious why you’re so casual about going on the record about your power.”

She took a sip from her coffee and cleared her throat, “I told you, I don’t have any powers,” she waved her hands halfway up in the air at the word like casting a spell, “I’m just a person who has very specific dreams with very specific information that happens to never be wrong.”

“How long have you had these dreams?”

“Since I was a kid, I would know things like when teachers were giving pop quizzes or when my parents were going to be late from work or,” she stopped suddenly realizing she was over sharing.

“Sorry,” she said, “this is probably not interesting to you.”

“But it is,” he said before taking another drink, “I know a few other uh, for lack of a better term, enhanced people across the city. They’ve helped a lot of people. Have you ever thought about what you could do with the knowledge you have?”

She stared down into her cup nervously running her thumb over the handle.

“I don’t know, I can’t ever change what happens. I only know that it will happen.”

“Have you ever tried?” He asked gently.

She sighed, “well it didn’t stop me from getting cheated on,”

“Ouch,” he didn’t know what else to say.

“That’s just one example, I had a dream where they told me exactly where they would be with someone else. As much as I tried to stop them from going out or tried to make plans they couldn’t get out of, they were already willing to lie. What’s more lies?”

“Huh,” he thought out loud, “are all your dreams just people telling you things? Like you don’t see something happen, someone tells you whats going to happen?”

“Yeah it’s always the same, someone comes in and sits at my kitchen table, then they tell me something. Like in the kidnapping case he told me he had her and the address. Luckily I remembered it and wrote it down,” she took another drink as the waitress came over to top her up, “I don’t always remember specifics like that. Just like normal dreams, you don’t always remember.”

As she said it, she realized it may not be a universal experience.

“Do you dream?” She asked carefully.

“Sometimes, occasionally, mostly about things from when I was very young. Before my accident.”

She nodded in understanding, immediately feeling silly about it so she said, “Oh, interesting”

He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable so he quickly changed the subject back to her.

“I believe you could do more good than you think, Viola”

She shifted in her seat, “well you don’t know me, I’m not any kind of hero.”

Matt chuckled to himself, “in my experience anyone can be a hero, you’ve already proven that you’re brave and heroic. You let them arrest you while waiting to be proven right, that’s pretty badass.”

She finally smiled at that, “I appreciate that.”

“And I don’t know you, but I’d like to, if you’re open to it,” his voice lowered like a secret.

“Ok,” she said with a yawn, “I’m open. It was nice to meet you, I have to get going. I need to take a nap or something before work.”

“You said you’re a singer right?” He asked, “when is your set?”

“I’m on at about 9 to 11 Thursday to Sunday, so I’m sure you can imagine this is going to be a long day for me,” slightly in a rush she started gathering her purse to leave.

“Can I come hear you sing tonight?” Matt asked quickly, “your voice is so nice just speaking I’m sure your singing is amazing.”

“Really? You don’t waste time do you?” She laughed as she got up from the booth. He could hear her heartbeat speed up, probably due to the compliment.

“Not really no,” he said with the most charming smile he could muster.

“Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll send you the address of the club? It’s right on the edge of Hells Kitchen”

He agreed, she got his number, thanked him for the coffee and left.

Matt got to the club at 9pm on the dot. The band didn’t come out until 9:10. Thursday night wasn’t packed but all the tables were full. Viola sang and he listened so closely, she certainly was talented and he enjoyed every second. It’s a jazz club, her band played standards and neosoul songs with a little bit of hip hop mixed in.

She could see him at his table, wearing a suit and drinking a beer. He nodded his head along with the beat and smiled every so often. After her set was finished she came over and sat at his table.

“I’m a little surprised you showed.”

“Your band is really good,” he said shifting in his seat toward her.

“Aw thanks,” she said, “it’s not really my band, they kind of found me”

“Your voice is amazing, I was right,” his own voice low and smooth as he could make it. He was still wearing his dark glasses but it was like she knew exactly what look he meant to give.

She lightly grabbed his arm, “thanks Matt, do you want to go somewhere we could talk more? It’s dinner time for me if you want to get food.”

“That sounds great Viola,” he said.

“Let me go grab my stuff from backstage real quick then we can go,” as she stood she slid her hand up to his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

He could still hear her behind the curtains talking to some of the other members of the band.

“Who’s the douche with the shades V?”

“His name is Matt. Did you also notice the cane? He’s blind you asshole,” she said, the other members of the band laughing at the others expense.

“Are you leaving with him? I thought you said you just met?”

“Yeah we did,” she said, “but he’s good, I can tell. And If he’s not I’ll probably find out by tomorrow.” She finished gathering up her things and putting on her coat. She made her way back over to Matt and offered her arm as she lead him past the bar and out of the club.

They ended up back in another diner, one of a few late night options. They sat opposite each other laughing and chatting. Matt said he wanted to get to know her and he wasn’t lying, but she was getting to know him too. When they finished up he asked her one final question.

“Will you tell me if I’m in your dreams tonight?” His mouth so close to her ear that the question gave her goosebumps.

“Maybe,” she said holding his arm as they waited for a cab, “depends on what you tell me. Either way I’ll call you tomorrow, is that ok?”

He took her hands and held them right in front of him so they were face to face. She was almost as tall as him, but he knew she was in heels. Feeling her shiver in the night air, he brought her in close wrapping one arm around her waist.

“That’s ok with me,” he reached up to gently cup her chin with his hand, “is this ok?”

She nodded into his palm and sighed contently. He pulled her face up towards his, his soft lips landing on hers. He pulled her in closer by the waist, and her arms moved to the nape of his neck.

He felt engulfed by her, even though she was small. Every scent on her, rosemary and lavender and eucalyptus. Smoke and liquor from the club, honey from the tea she just drank. He could hear coins rolling in the bottom of her bag, her earrings tapping against her neck when she moved, her shoes scraping the sidewalk. With his hands around her waist he could feel her skin hot under her thin dress, her long braided hair hitting the top of his hands, her nails scratching the short hairs on his neck.

It was a long, deep kiss. She felt it tingle her toes. Viola finally pulled away, said goodnight and got in her cab home.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x oc

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buriedalienfma · 5 months

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Deconstructing Action Comics #775

2023 has been an exciting year for Superman fans. This was the year saw the release of 'My Adventures with Superman', and while that series received the usual complaints from the die-hard comic purists and DCEU fans, it was otherwise very warmly received by the general public. On the comic side of things we have had excellent writers like Mark Waid, Phillip Kennedy Johnson, Gene Luen Yang and Joshua Williamson working on the Superman books and the results have been fairly positive. And on the movie side of things, we received word that James Gunn is working on a brand new Superman movie called "Superman: Legacy", which is slated to come out in 2025. Considering that the last time that we got a standalone Superman movie was in 2013 - more than a decade ago at this point - this is pretty big news. Naturally, Superman fans have been grasping for any new bit of information that might tell us what the movie might look like. So far we know that the actors who are going to be playing the main characters are David Corenswet and Rachel Brosnahan as Superman and Lois Lane respectively. We know that the movie is going to be about Superman balancing his human upbringing with his alien upbringing. And we also know that the movie is going to involve other superheroes. For a while, there was a rumor that the movie was going to involve Superman going up against the Authority, a team of anti-heroic superheroes that were originally part of the DC Comics Wildstorm imprint. However, those rumors appear to be somewhat untrue, as seen in the recent casting details which confirm that the characters Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, Metamorpho and Mr Terrific are going to be part of the movie - all characters who have no real connection to the Authority.

When I first heard those rumors, I was...not happy. In general I dislike the idea of Superman having to share screentime with other superheroes in his own movie, and I would have preferred it if Superman Legacy was just a standalone movie. However, the thing that concerned me the most was the supposed source of inspiration for this movie. When these original rumors were flying around, there seemed to be a strong indication that Superman Legacy was going to be a loose adaptation of the Action Comics #775 story "What's so funny about Truth, Justice and the American Way", which was later adapted into a DC Animated movie, "Superman vs the Elite".

I do NOT like this story. As a matter of fact, I think that its a terrible Superman story and that the creators behind the movie would have been extremely misguided if they decided to make an adaptation of it. That is a very unpopular opinion, by the way, as Action Comics #775 is highly regarded by many Superman fans. So, I wanted to discuss the original story, and explain why I dislike it so much.

Firstly, let's get some context out of the way. Action Comics #775 was meant to be a direct response to the comic series "The Authority". The Authority was a popular comic series that was notable for being a much darker and edgier take on superheroes. The protagonists of " The Authority" were fundamentally anti-heroic and had a habit of solving their problems through hyper-violence and other extreme methods. At least, that is the impression I get from second hand sources. I freely admit that I have not read the Authority comic but I don't think that's going to be too much of an issues when it comes to my discussion of Action Comics #775.

The success of The Authority raised the question : is Superman and his traditional brand of heroics still relevant in the modern age ? Action Comics #775 is meant to address that question by creating a pastiche of The Authority in "The Elite", a fictional group of super-powered anti-heroes led by Manchester Black.

When the story begins, Superman learns of The Elite when he comes across the dead bodies of the supervillains they have killed. Since Superman has a code against killing, he is naturally opposed to their destructive methods. However, the in-universe public disagree with him, with some people championing the Elite while at the same time calling out Superman's no-kill policy for being 'outdated'.

So yeah, this story isn't very subtle when it comes to addressing the real life criticisms that people have of the character.

Eventually Superman gets into a proper confrontation with the Elite, and it is at this point that The Elite inform Superman about the big Problem at the heart of the story. The Problem is as follows : Superman's methods of dealing with supervillains were proving to be ineffectual. He has a habit of simply carting them off to prison after defeating them. Inevitably, those same supervillains simply break out of prison only to cause more damage and destruction, before being stopped by Superman again.

Essentially, by refusing to kill his enemies, Superman is causing more harm than good by perpetuating a cycle of violence. The Elite claim to be a solution to The Problem. They are more than willing to kill their enemies and using extreme methods such as punishing the families of those enemies to keep them in line.

Now, we as the readers are not meant to sympathize with the Elite. The story goes out of it's way to depict the Elite as a bunch of pompous, politically incorrect, egotistical assholes. However, one can't help but think that perhaps...the Elite might have a good point ? Now, let's be clear, I do not want to see Superman killing his enemies. I like it when Superman is above such things. I like it when Superman tries to solve problems without resorting to those easy solutions. On the other hand, there are obvious consequences to the no-kill policy as described in the Problem above.

What is Superman's response to the Problem ? If he doesn't want to kill his enemies, does he have any other solution that would break that cycle of violence that he is unintentionally perpetuating?

Well, apparently the answer is no. The story simply has Superman proclaiming that he is going to continue doing the same thing that he has always done, and hoping that eventually things will work out. Let's not pull any punches, that is a WEAK argument, but the story never really seems to realize that.

And THAT is the fundamental problem with this story. We're meant to see the Elite as being in the wrong for their extreme methods and they are, but at the same time, Superman himself doesn't exactly have the best argument in favor of his own methods. As a matter of fact, the story simply doubles down on that weak argument as seen in the ending of the story.

This speech is often championed by Superman fans as the one scene that summarizes everything great about Superman. I say that it is the best encapsulation of the problem with this story. In recent times, more and more people are making thinkpieces that criticize MCU superheroes or just superheroes in general for perpetuating the status quo within their various stories. And yet, those very people will praise this story which ends with Superman directly and proudly stating his intentions to continue to be a protector of the status quo. It's the ultimate cop-out ending, and the big Problem that is raised in the story is ultimately unaddressed.

The story has a bunch of other problems, namely in how the Elite are essentially just a bunch of strawmen (something that seems rather childish for a story that is trying to be complex and mature), or how seemingly and fundamentally insecure the story is about Superman as a character, especially with how it incorporates real life arguments that people have had about him. I could point out that the best way to show that Superman is still relevant in the modern age is by simply telling good Superman stories, rather than doing the story equivalent of jumping up and down and screaming "He's still relevant ! He's still relevant !". But ultimately, the failure of the story to address the Problem is my biggest gripe.

Now, you may be wondering what I thought of the animated adaptation of this story. Does it fix any of the problems I described ?

Unfortunately the answer is no. The movie does a good job expanding the original story and fleshing out the backstories of the antagonists. But since it's still using the original story as a base, it ends up having the same problems. The way I see it, it is a very good adaptation of a very flawed Superman story.

And that's why I balked at the idea of James Gunn taking inspiration from this story for his big Superman movie. Simply put, it wouldn't have made for a good Superman movie unless Gunn significantly reworked the story.

Off Course, there are plenty of other better Superman stories that tackles similar themes. 'Superman : Peace On Earth', 'Superman: Camelot Falls', 'Superman and the Authority' and 'Superman Adventures: The War Within' are all good stories that put Superman's values and morals under question and do so in a much more graceful and tactful manner. None of those stories are perfect, but they're at least better than Action Comics #775. For all the reasons I laid out above, that story just doesn't work for me.

#superman #clark kent #dc comics #superman legacy #superman vs the elite

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jellyfishright · 11 months

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At A Distance, Spring Is Green -BL Version (Yeo Jun x Nam Soo Hyun)-Chapter 19 : I'm free

"I'm sorry ." Chun-Guk hung his head.

"You should apologize to So-Bin. Not to me." Jun replied.

"So-Bin is who I am here to apologize to. How else could I show my face at school? But then I spotted you and I owe you an apology as too, so." His head dipped lower. "I'll take some time off from school after this semester "

"You've changed." Jun observed

"A trip to the police station can knock some sense into you.I looked back on my past choices . It's scary there . I don't want to even go near one again.My life as a student here is over.I'll be a ghost and disappear once I graduate ."

"As if you're dead?" Jun asked.

Those words evoked a kind of sadness in Yeo Jun as he reflected on the life he'd lived thus far.

"You shouldn't live your life like that." he told Chun-Guk.

"What?" the boy was surprised.

"Make it right." Jun advised. "Everyone can start over you know." He paused. "Although, enough with the violence.That only leaves wounds.More deeply on one's heart than on the flesh."

A tearful Chun-Guk nodded. "Right.I'm sorry."

Seeing that Jun was gone for a bit, Soo Hyun came to find him.

"Are you alright?" he asked Yeo Jun as he stood with Chun-Guk.

Jun smiled at him "I'm okay." he confirmed. "Let's get to class."

There was a stunned silence that fell over the classroom when Chun-Guk walked in.Everyone on campus knew what he'd done to So-Bin.

Steeling himself, he walked to the front of the lecture hall.

"What's he doing?" Gung-Ho wondered aloud.

"I have something to say publicly." Chun-Guk began. "Kim So-Bin,I'm sorry." he looked at her. "I made a mistake---no. It was wrong of me. Please forgive me."

The silence morphed into awkwardness for So-Bin as all eyes turned to look at her to see how she would respond. "I get it.So please stop." she replied. "Just make sure you don't hurt anyone in the same way again."

Chun-Guk fell to his knees infront of everyone. "I won't do it ever again!" he bowed his head "Kim So-Bin. I'm sorry." He repeated this over and over. Over and over until tears flowed, cutting a most pitiful picture as everyone watched in shock.

"I get it. So please stop saying my name." So-Bin dashed to the front of the room to soothe Chun-Guk but he refused to be soothed. His tears and apologies became more fervent as his own guilt and grief consumed him.

When Yeo Jun arrived, So-Bin was still busy trying to calm Chun-Guk down. He looked at Chun-Guk knowing that people had to pay for the wrongs they did and none were exempt.

"The semester is almost over. Too bad isn't it?" Professor Park addressed the class

"No Wayyy." the students chorused

Professor Park ignored their response. "I know that you're sad it's almost over which is why I'm giving out an assignment." A collective groan spread among the students. "It can be a company, a brand, or product. Decide on one as a team and film a PR video.Content and format are all at your discretion. Doesn't it sound like fun?"

There was no enthusiasm to be found.

Soo Hyun raised his hand. "Will it be part of our grade?"

"You'll be tested on the content of the last team project.Your final grade will be a half this and a half that." Professor Park explained. "Those who tanke the team project, this is your chance to make up for it.I'll be grading you on planning, creativity and execution so play your roles within your teams."

Yeo Jun's hand shot up next "Do we choose our teams freely like the last time?"

"Your teams?" Professor Park considered. "Stick to your old ones." There was an even bigger groan from the students this time. "This is how most of you felt according to the review of the team project.I don't want the activity to be a negative experience, so I'm giving you another chance." He looked at their anxious faces. "Why? Are you dreading to work again with people that you hate?"

"Yes!" the class replied in unison

"Enduring those you hate and finding a way to overcome that hardship are part of being in society . Trust me and give it another shot. Dismissed." He began to walk away. "Oh. One more thing. During the project, why not play Secret Santa with your teammates?"

More complaints from the students.

Are you serious?

Who would do that?

What?

Secret Santa?

"Secret Santa?" Chun-Guk thought out loud. "As if it wouldn't be obvious. What if I got So-Bin?"

"She might report you for stalking." Gung-Ho replied. "It's dangerous."

Soo Hyun spun in his seat and looked at Jun and So-Bin. "Let's discuss it right away."

"Where should we go?" Jun asked. "Someplace fancy--" he began to say as he usually did before he made a realization. "I don't have my credit card."

"The school cafeteria will do."So-Bin said.

"I'd like to buy drinks for everyone, as a means to apologize." Chun-Guk said.

Yeo Jun looked at So-Bin. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Well I'm going to go." Soo Hyun spoke up. "I'm not a part of this."

"I'll go." So-Bin spoke up. "If everyone else goes. We can decide on the Secret Santa when we get there"

Soo Hyun sighed as everyone walked away.

"Let's go." Yeo Jun pulled him along.

6 pieces of paper sat in the middle of the table, each with a name written on it.

Yeo Jun was the first to go. He unfolded his paper, took a look, said nothing.

"What's wrong ? is it me?" Chun-Guk asked.

"Could be." Jun looked at him."Next." he encouraged the other person to go.

Soo Hyun picked his paper next. He unfolded his paper and took a look. One second later, much to everyone's surprise, he refilled Yeo Jun's empty glass.

"What are you doing?" Jun looked at him "Did you pick me?"

Soo Hyun looked at him and took his seat "Of course not."

So-Bin laughed "You're already caught Soo Hyun."

The others picked.

There were a few frowns as some people seemed displeased at the end of the draw

"So what does a Secret Santa have to do?" Soo Hyun asked.

"Whatever works." Jun replied. He looked at Soo Hyun. "Why? What are you going to do for me?"

"Huh?" Soo Hyun was surprised. "What? I'm not your Secret Santa so don't get the wrong idea."

Jun smiled at him.

"You guys can order whatever you want." Chun-Guk announced. "Jun doesn't have to pay for anything."

"I'm not the ATM anymore. I don't have a gold card." Jun said

"Congratulations on becoming human." Soo Hyun teased with a smile.

"You've changed Soo Hyun." So-Bin observed with a smile.

Soo Hyun schooled his smile "Since we're done with the Secret Santa, let's talk about the group project."

So-Bin's smile faded. "You really haven't changed."

"Come on guys! Let's drink! Cheers!" Gung-Ho roused everyone.

"You have to do it too Soo Hyun." So-Bin encouraged.

Awkwardly, Soo Hyun raised his glass and clinked with his colleagues.

"Yeo Jun. Wake up. You're going to be late for class." Soo Hyun tried to rouse the sleeping person.

"Okay. Five more minutes." Jun replied.

"I can't let this slide for your sake." Soo Hyun was determined. With one yank, he pulled the covers from Yeo Jun and began to tickle him. "Wake up!"

"Ahhhh" Yeo Jun screamed and laughed "Stop! Stop being my Secret Santa!"

"Wake up." Soo Hyun continued his efforts. "You're going to be late for class."

"Let me sleep just a little more." Jun begged.

"You're going to be late. Just get up." Soo Hyun didn't stop touching him.

"Please...Just leave me alone!" Jun screamed, as he flailed in the bed.

"If you don't get up. I'm going to do worse things to you." Soo Hyun threatened.

Worse? What could be worse than being harassed like this when he just wanted to sleep.

"I'm going to count to three." he warned.

Yeo Jun thrashed about in his bed like a spoilt child

"One..."

Yeo Jun was still stubborn

"Two..."

Jun tried to maintain his steely determination..

"Three.."

Unwilling to risk whatever could possibly come next, Yeo Jun threw off the covers and sat up in bed.

Seeing this, Soo Hyun smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Good boy."

Tricked! Yeo Jun frowned a little but smiled in the next instant, touching the lips Soo Hyun had kissed.

Kissed or not, Jun was still sleepy. He yawned as they walked up the steps of their school 20 minutes later.

"Thanks to me you won't be late for class." Soo Hyun said proudly.

Jun yawned again. "Thanks alot." He pouted. "Who is my Secret Santa? He's not doing anything for me."

Soo Hyun looked at him "Maybe your Secret Santa is just that good. You don't even know what he did for you."

Yeo Jun smiled and shook his head. Soo Hyun was really an easy person to tease.

A second later, Soo Hyun swept Jun's schoolbag from his shoulder and sped up, leaving him behind.

At this, Jun shook his head "Yes, I have no idea. He is really good."

"How's your script going?" So-Bin asked Jun as they sat in the courtyard.

"Don't get me started.I'm not getting enough sleep because of my creativity and my Secret Santa wakes me up early in the morning every day." he complained

So-Bin laughed.

"It's not funny." Jun continued to complain

"But a part of you likes it right?"

Yeo Jun thought about it for a moment. She was right. Living with and liking Soo Hyun, he liked it very much.

"Look at your face." So-Bin teased. "No need to say anything.It's written so clearly."

Yeo Jun blushed. "Back to the project."

"I don't know who to cast." So-Bin said. "If your writing is good and I cast badly, it will be all for naught and I don't have any connections like you."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Perhaps we can cast you." So-Bin suggested. "Myungil University's hottest guy Yeo Jun."

"Hmm..but can you afford my fees?" Jun teased.

"I'll ask your Secret Santa to help me." So-Bin half teased, half threatened.

"No no no no nevermind.I'll do it." he gave in "I'll even do it for free."

Kim So-Bin laughed.

Yeo Jun was the first to get home that night. As expected, Soo Hyun would be working until late.

"There's nothing in here." he said to himself with a pout after checking the fridge. "I'll just order in."

He was about to dial when the doorbell rang.

"Doesn't he have work? And did that smartypants forget the passcode?" he smiled to himself as he walked to the door.

Yeo Jun opened the door and his smell immediately vanished when he came face to face with his father.

Disheveled and reeking of alcohol, he drunkenly pushed past Yeo Jun and stepped into his apartment.

"Hey. Where is your mom?" he asked, stumbling forward. "Come out!" he called. He pointed an accusing finger at Yeo Jun "Bring her to me now."

"Why are you looking for mom? You have no right." Yeo Jun replied.

His father was stumbling about, checking room by room. "What? I have no right?" He looked at Jun "Do you know what I'm going through because of you?"

"Why is that my fault? It's your own fault."

"How dare you talk back to me?" his father stepped closer.

Yeo Jun stepped back. "So many people have suffered because of your abusive behaviours. Why must you be like this. Why?" he screamed.

"You arrogant brat.Hey." he poked Jun in the forehead "Who's supporting you financially? do you earn money? Whose money is this?" He kicked Jun's furniture and flipped a stool "Whose money is all this?"

"Do you earn money so you have a reason to beat us?" Yeo Jun asked

"What?" his father was taken aback

"Just get the punishment you deserve, apologize to everyone, and start over."

"You little.." his father raised his hand to hit him.

"Enough,seriously!' Yeo Jun screamed, catching that abusive hand. "That kid that used to shudder in fear after getting beaten up by you is dead now." he threw his father's hand, causing him to stumble a little. "If you lay a finger on Jun Wan or mom again, it won't end with just calling the cops."

"Hey." his father shrugged himself out of his jacket. "Even you look down on my now?" he threw the piece of clothing to the floor.

"Dad." Yeo Jun looked at the pitiful person he used to fear. "Dad.That's all in your head. Please let it go and stop being delusional."

"Delusional?"

"No one looks down on you.You are the one who looks down on yourself.You're torturing yourself!"

His father didn't say another word.

Grabbing his jacket from the floor, he stumbled towards the door, going back the way he'd come.

After his father left, a shaking Yeo Jun sat in the sofa to calm himself, not even bothering to fix the items his father had toppled.

"Jun Wan" he called his brother.

[Hey Jun]

"I just called to hear your voice."

[Good. I'm glad you called.] Silence hung on the line [Is everything ok?] Jun Wan asked

"Yes.Everything's good.Sweet Dreams."

[You too.]

When Soo Hyun arrived home, things were still toppled. Yeo Jun was sitting alone in the dark.

"What's wrong?" he asked swiftly lodging himself beside Yeo Jun on the sofa.

Jun looked at him and smiled. "Nothing."

"What happened?" Soo Hyun pressed.

Yeo Jun continued to smile. "I'm free." he replied, resting a head on Soo Hyun's shoulder.

Soo Hyun didn't understand but he allowed Jun to rest his head while he stroked his hair.

#bl series #boy love #fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #nam soohyun x yeo jun #yeo jun x nam soo hyun #nam soo hyun #yeo jun #wattpad

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