#shes such a good narrator her voice is just so soothing

[thefrsers]

Caitriona Balfe reads from "Prophet Song" | The Booker Prize

[i2sunric]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (l.hs)

pairing: heeseung x reader (f)

summary: your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.

warnings: fluff & crack! (i tried), early 2000s au, kinda enemies to lovers, heeseung is down bad, they have a daughter, mentions of pregnancy, heeseung plays basketball, cuddling and kissing, light angst, mentions of leukaemia, parent’s death, if more lmk. NOT PROOFREAD

published: 23rd April 2024

wc: 6.2k

tag list: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted

Heeseung couldn’t bring himself to wake you up, knowing you were so exhausted from all the things you had to do.

Not only did you manage to prepare everything for Jia’s kindergarten, take her there and get to work in time but you also cleaned and cooked in your spare time, leaving little to just sit down and rest, which was why every time you sat down on the sofa, you ended up falling in a deep slumber.

He smiled fondly, covering your curled figure with a blanket and turned around with his hands on his hips “Tin Soldier.”

He called with a forced low voice, making Jia’s attention turn from the toy in her hand to her father, she placed her stocky hand on her forehead, standing at attention “Captain Hamster.”

Heeseung chuckled at her high pitched voice and scooped her up from the floor, taking her in his arms “Mission sweet tooth,” He booped her nose “Time for teeth brushing.”

Jia let out a whine of disappointment “But I want to play more.” She pouted, and if Heeseung didn’t know how much you’d get upset if Jia missed her bedtime, he’d let his daughter play to her heart's content.

“I know,” He pinched her cheek softly, earning a giggle “But I heard the tooth fairy doesn’t come to those who don’t brush their teeth before bed…” He trailed off, Jia’s eyes widened and she quickly climbed down Heeseung’s arms, hurrying upstairs. He could hear her small steps darting to the bathroom, making him smile writhing himself.

He glanced back at you, feeling such an euphoric feeling he thought his heart would explode.

Heeseung walked close to you and placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead, but your momma instinctive feelings made your eyes open up, alerted to your surroundings as you tried to get the sight of your daughter.

“Shh..” He soothed, caressing your cheek “I’ll prepare Jia for bed, mh?” He kissed the corner of your lips, your eyes already closed under his relaxing touch “You stay here, I'll take you to bed later.” You just let out a sleepy hum, your eyes too heavy to stay open more.

Heeseung went upstairs, following his daughter’s route and getting to the bathroom where she was already brushing her teeth, probably with a little too much toothbrush but it didn’t matter. He was glad she was trying.

Jia rinsed her mouth and opened it to let her father see how much of a good job she did, Heeseung smiled proudly “Great job, Tin Soldier. It's jammy mission now.” Jia giggled as she hurried off the stool that helped her reach the faucet and took Heeseung's sleeve, dragging him (more like, he let himself be dragged) to her bedroom.

The baby took her pyjama from the chair and placed it on the bed, “Daddy, can you help me?” She asked, clumsily removing her clothes.

Heeseung nodded, smiling as he saw her attempts at changing, despite still not majoring in it. In no time, she was clean and ready to bed, Heeseung tugged her under the blankets and sat by the edge of the bed, only the thin reflection of the pink night light illuminating the room.

They stared at each other for a few moments until Jia spoke “No bedtime story?” She tilted her head in confusion “You want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“Mommy always does,” He explained, hugging her purple bear tightly “And what kind of stories does mommy tell you?” Heeseung asked, curious

“She usually recounts Tangled because she like a Flynn Rider.” Jia informed, making Heeseung raise a brow “She does?” Was it possible to feel jealous of a cartoon character? Probably not but Heeseung was crazy about you, so he’d make it a normal thing.

“Yes, but it’s always the same story.” Jia sighed, shaking her head “I want a more interesting one.”

Heeseung stayed silent, his lips forming a thin line as he tried to think “What do you want to hear about?”

It didn’t take much for Jia to reply “I want the greatest love story of all.” She answered happily, at her age, everything was about fantasies and unicorns.

So, Heeseung tried to think about the many love stories he knew, the famous tales he’d known growing up. There was Cinderella, The Little Mermaid and…. a candle lit in his mind.

“I’ll tell you the greatest love story of all,” He started with a cocky smirk “The best fairytale ever told.”

His words fuelled Jia’s curiosity as she snuggled better under the blankets, eyes sparkling “The wonderful love story of Lee Heeseung and L/N Y/N.”

Jia’s face was puzzled “But that’s you and mommy.” She stated and Heeseung nodded, smiling “Mommy isn’t a princess.”

Heeseung shook his head, but his smile never disappeared from his lips. “No, she’s my queen.” He ruffled Jia’s hair “So, do you want to hear it?”

“Mhmh!” Jia hummed in response “If mommy is a queen then I am the princess.” Heeseung let out a low chuckle, nodding “Yes, you are our dear princess.”

Jia smiled widely, one of those smiles that made your days uncontrollably better and sweeter “Tell me, tell me.” She incited her father

“It all started on..”

⪩⪨

A rainy Thursday afternoon. It was the perfect time for a cinema hang out with friends. You stood in front of the long line, it seemed like everyone had your same idea since both elderly couples and families with children were buying tickets and popcorn. You waved your hand to a young boy who was staring at you while holding a sachet of popcorn bigger than him, he waved back, making you smile.

You turned your head to see that most of the queue was gone, so you surpassed some of those people who never moved and just stared at the menu. You already knew your order, so why would you wait for them to choose?

The cashier who looked like he could really do a vacation asked in a monotone voice “What do you want to order?”

“A packet of Twizzlers.” You said but your voice did not seem quite like yours. You turned your head to the side just to meet a pair of big eyes staring at you in disbelief.

You two narrowed your eyes at each other, a staring battle that would declare the winner. Why were you acting that way? Because the packet of Twizzlers was the last one, and if that pretty boy thought he could steal it from you, he thought wrongly.

The cashier cleared his throat. “It’s the last one.” He stated, holding the dear packet of candies in front of you two

“I was there first.” The boy tried to defend himself, making you scoff “He was talking to me.” You raised a challenging brow.

“I clearly saw you cutting the line.” He blamed “False accusation, do you have any proof?”

“You were at the end of the queue just two seconds ago!” He exclaimed, making you smirk “You were staring at me?” Pink flashed instantly on the guy’s cheeks “No.” He tried to mask it, but you could clearly see some frustration in his features

The cashier cleared his throat once again, snatching your attention. “Just decide already, or I will.”

“No!” You both screamed, side eyeing each other once again “They’re mine.” The boy said, making you roll your eyes, “Your name ain’t written on them.”

“Neither is yours.” He raised his chin, an attempt to make you see he wasn’t backing down.

There was a moment where you two stared at each other, silence filling the place except for the vociferate inside the cinema halls, waiting for the movie to begin.

“Rock, paper, scissors!” You both exclaimed at the same time again, showing your hands. He cursed under his breath, seeing your petite hand that represented paper wrap around his closed fist which was rock.

“I won.” You said mockingly, throwing a few coins on the counter and taking the packet of twizzlers in your hand.

You were walking away when the cashier called you “Miss, excuse me?” You turned around and raised a questioning brow

He waved the coins you used to pay for the candies “You’re missing ten cents.”

You widened your eyes, checking your jeans pockets. You were sure you took the right amount of money, had you miscounted them?

An hopeful grin spread across the guy’s lips, taking the pennies from the cashier’s fingers and walking toward you “Guess this should be mine.” He tried to take the packet of Twizzlers but you moved your arm

He sighed, shaking his head “Listen, darling—“ “Don’t call me darling” You snapped at him, a frown on your face

He placed two surrounding hands between you two “Alright, my bad.” He then pointed at you and the dear packet of candies “You don’t have enough money, but I do, so just give it up and go watch your movie.”

Your mouth fell agape, staring at him in disbelief. However, you had nothing to counterattack anymore and had to stay still when he took the packet, replacing your hand with your not enough coins and paying for it to the overtired cashier.

The boy winked at you before disappearing down the corridor that led to the halls.

A movie just wasn’t the same without Twizzlers, but instead of doing twenty cents charity outside the cinema to buy at least a coke, you hurried inside the hall that projected ‘The Notebook’ and tried to find your seat, despite the room being dark already. Fortunately, there was at least ten minutes of advertising, so you had enough time to let yourself fall on the seat with a loud thud, earning a few ‘shhh’s from other people.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Your best friend, Sunoo asked “What took you so long to come back? I thought you got lost or something.”

You shook your head, a defeated expression painted on your face “Someone stole my Twizzlers.” You fake-dried a tear

“Aw, poor you.” Sunoo patted your shoulder, knowing your tradition of eating candies and drinking coke while watching a movie “It’s ok, I’ll share my coke with you.” He took the giant cup and placed it on the armrest between the two of you. You smiled at him and focused your attention on the movie that started.

You felt a familiar scent filling your nostrils, you slowly turned your head and raised a brow when you noticed that not only had that boy stolen your candies, he was also eating them on the seat beside yours. You had not noticed it when you first sat down, but now you could clearly see his silhouette enjoying the snack that should’ve been yours.

As if feeling someone’s stare on him, he turned his head and met your angry gaze, his eyes widened a little before they turned into two half-moons, a smug grin on his lips. You exchanged no words but the way he was acting was so mocking it made your blood burn.

You gave your attention back to the film, not wanting to fuel his ego by acting affected by his childish behaviour. Yes, it was childish, but you were more petty so it did anger you. Who did he think he was to act that way?

The movie continued, even if you were painfully aware of the parasite beside you, you were able to follow the whole plot line until the ending scene was replaced with the closing credits. Murmurs filled the cinema room, the lights went on and you heard.

Sunoo was crying rivers beside you which made you chuckle, he had already finished his third tissue when he said “I’ll run to the bathroom.” To probably cry some more and try to fix his swelling eyes later. You were about to follow him when you heard a sniffle from your other side, you turned around and your eyes lit up when you noticed the stealer crying.

He raised his head and hid it behind his hands when he noticed you were staring. A heartfelt laugh escaped your lips “Don’t laugh at me.” He mumbled with a clear runny nose “You bet I am.” You sat down again, waiting for all the people to flow out and leave the exits freer “That’s what you get for stealing my snacks.”

He peaked at you from behind his fingers. “It’s not my fault you’re broke.” You tsked at his false-not-so-false statement “It’s not my fault you’re a crybaby.”

He side-eyed you and you side-eyed him back, just like Sunoo had taught you. The boy tried to dry his tears and runny nose, which was both unhygienic and impossible with one palm of his hand.

You felt a little pitiful for him and sighed, taking a tissue from the small tissue box and handing it to the boy.

He eyed it warily, not sure if he should’ve accepted it or not. “It’s not poisonous, unlike your germs.” You waved it in front of his face and he accepted it with a groan, blowing his nose and drying his tears.

He crumpled it and put it in his jeans pocket, staring at you while gulping down in a nervous way. You chuckled teasingly “What? Is the venom acting up?”

He rolled his eyes and took something from inside his hoodie’s pocket, “I saved this for you.”

You stared at the red candy stick he was holding out for you with a frown “What?” You asked, puzzled. Heeseung just sighed, acting unbiased. “I was full, don’t think I did it out of kindness.”

“What’s your name?” You asked suddenly, making him widen his eyes “Careful, you sound interested.”

You pursued your lips “Just answer, yeah?” The boy placed the candy on your palm, standing up.

You hadn’t noticed it, but he towered you by a lot just with you sitting, you didn’t imagine how you would have to pull your neck to look into his eyes by standing in front of him.

He stretched, lazily placing his hands in his pocket “Heeseung,” He beckoned to you “Y/N.” You replied

“Thank you for the tissue, Y/N.” He said and the way your name rolled from his tongue made your stomach turn. Whether it was disgust or attraction, you didn’t dare to label.

“Unthank you for the Twizzlers.” You smirked and turned on your heels, walking away before he even had the chance to talk to you more.

⪩⪨

“You cried over a movie?” Jia asked in an accusatory tone “I’m a sensitive person.” Heeseung huffed, blinking faintly

“I think you’re just a cry baby.” Jia raised her chin proudly “I didn’t even cry when I went to the dentist.”

Heeseung sniggered softly, booping his daughter's nose. He couldn’t help but always show some sort of affection towards her. The feeling of protection and longing was so strong whenever they spent time together. “Of course, you’re stronger than me.”

“Did you see her again later?” Heeseung nodded “Yes, but it was a lot of time later, like one month or so.” Jia widened her eyes “That much?” He hummed, running a hand in his hair “I was always awestruck when I saw her, it happened at the cinema and again…”

⪩⪨

“A 40, please.” Heeseung forced out a smile and handed the skates to the young girl who just asked. He was supposed to be relaxing at home but his brother decided to have a small trip with his girlfriend and obviously, it was Heeseung’s turn to cover up for him.

He had been handing skates that smelled like sweat and rotten cheese to people for four hours, and the thoughts of doing that for another one and half made him feel sick.

“A 38, please.” Heeseung’s eyes widened at the familiar voice, he raised his head and stared at your face through his bangs.

“You!” You both shouted at the same time, making the gesture of the Spiderman meme “What are you doing here?” He asked, eyeing you up and down.

Perhaps, it was the reddish lightning of the room, or the fact that your hair had grown a little, seeming like the perfect length for you; or the soft make up accentuating your face. Or maybe just the toxic fumes from the overused skates played tricks on his head.

“What’s taking so long?” One arm sneaked around your shoulders, making Heeseung raise a brow.

Oh, that was why you were there.

“My size is hard to find.” You lied, beckoning to Heeseung to do his job. Complying, he turned around and found your skates. passing them to you “Remember to take the safety precautions.” He said the same phrase he’d been repeating so many times and watched as you walked away with that guy’s arm still around your shoulder.

It shouldn’t have pissed him off, but it did. The way you smiled with him, helping him skating despite him was a lost case. Seriously, that guy sucked at skating, he had fallen so many times in just one hour.

Trying to distract himself, when he saw you approaching the counter bar, he started polishing the skates, but the urge to just talk to you was strong, so he approached you, sneakingly.

“Where’s your date?” Heeseung asked, cleaning the table with a sponge near where you were sat “Bathroom.” You replied nonchalantly

A soft frown curved his forehead “You’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes, you sure he’s still in there?” At his words you smirked “You were staring at me?” Those same two words you told him when you first met.

You added “I saw him sneaking away five minutes ago, I just like to think he had a massive diarrhoea and didn’t actually dump me.”

Fucker. If he didn’t want to go out with you anymore he could’ve at least told you face to face.

The notes of ‘She Will Be Loved’ by Maroon 5 started playing as background music. Heeseung stared at you, you looked so gorgeous with your makeup, messy hair from the skating and the same bored expression you always wore, like nothing truly entertained you enough.

“What a loser.” He joked instead, earning a scoff from you “Why don’t you put yourself to good use and make me a smoothie?” You asked, sliding three coins on the counter.

Heeseung raised a brow, “I don’t know how to do it.” You raised it back “Don’t you work here?”

He shook his head “I’m just filling in for my brother.” You rolled your eyes “How useless.”

You were about to take those coins back when Heeseung stopped you, his hands brushing against yours “I’ll do it.” You smirked “A vanilla one, thank you.”

It was already late afternoon and the skating room wasn’t as packed as it was during the early hours, so Heeseung could put aside the skates sizes to make you a smoothie. Obviously, only to prove to you he was better than you thought, not because he wanted to cheer you up. Not at all.

Fiddling a little bit with the smoothies machine, he managed to make one, a little too liquid, but still drinkable.

He placed victoriously the glass in front of you, adding a straw inside “Here ya go.” You eyed it up and down, warily “Did you spit in it?”

Heeseung put a hand on his chest, acting wounded “You think so low of me.” You sighed while shaking your hand and took a small sip of the ‘vanilla smoothie’

“How is it?” He asked, hopeful. You just shrugged “Not bad for a newbie.”

Heeseung smirked, leaning against the counter, you could feel his body heat near you “Where’s my tip?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away “Nowhere.”

Your phone rang at that moment, you made a gesture for him to keep quiet and answered “Yes, mom… Yes, I know— at the, don’t shout, at the skating rink—“ A heavy sigh “Okay, I’ll be home.”

You hung up and hopped off the stool “Where are you going?” Heeseung frowned, “You haven’t even finished your smoothie.”

“Curfew.” You replied, waving your phone to him. He raised a brow “Don’t ask.”

Heeseung nodded, exiting from behind the counter, still in his brother’s uniform. Now you raised a brow “Where are you going?”

“I’ll walk you home.” You scowled, your face showing surprise “You’re working.” You stated

Heeseung pointed at the clock on the wall that ticked 06:03 PM. “Technically, my shift ended three minutes ago.”

“And why would you walk me home?” You asked “If something happened to you on the way, I’m sure your ghost would haunt me.”

You tsked, “I wouldn’t give you the honour to visit you when I’m dead.” Heeseung just smiled and nudged your shoulder with his “Lead the way, Twizzlers lover.”

You just rolled your eyes and walked out as he held the door for you “Let’s go, Twizzlers stealer.”

⪩⪨

“Why did that boy leave mommy?” Jia asked, her lips shifting to a cute pout “Because he didn’t realise what a treasure your mother is.” Heeseung answered, now sitting beside Jia with her small body curled under his arm.

“And you walked her home?” He nodded, laughing at the memories “Your grandfather went crazy when he saw me walk her home, I got a slipper thrown at my head.”

Jia chuckled as well, her soft giggles echoing through the whole room “What’s so funny? I got hurt.”

Jia chuckled loudly, hiding her face in her father’s chest “Grandpa still throws slippers at you.” She stated, making Heeseung laugh again “That’s right.”

“What happened then?” She asked, wanting to know more about her parents' love story. This was better than any prince and princesses tales her mother used to tell her.

“Later, I was forced to have dinner with them.” Heeseung started narrating, “After that awkward meal, me and Y/N grew closer. We kept bickering and fighting, but with her, no conversation was forced.”

Jia frowned “What does it mean?” She naively asked, of course she wouldn’t know this yet, so Heeseung explained “Sometimes, we feel forced to talk to others, however with your mother I didn’t even have to think about what to say, words just came to my mind.”

“Mommy seemed like she hated you.” The baby stated, glancing up to her father “She didn’t.”

Jia tilted her head “How do you know?” Heeseung smiled fondly, “I just knew.”

⪩⪨

“This one’s for you!” Heeseung exclaimed, throwing the ball to the basket just to painfully miss it. You laughed loudly at his fail “I hope that’s not how you flirt with girls or that explains why you’re single.” You snickered

Heeseung reached the ball and dribbled it around the court, his sleeves rolled up and his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead “Only with you.” He winked, making you act as if you were about to gag.

“Do you think I’ll be able to enter the college’s basketball team?” He asked, his voice sounding a little too serious for his usual playful character.

“We still have two months to think about college,” You frowned. “Let me live my summer without any thoughts.” Heeseung chuckled and threw the ball at you, which you caught before it landed on your face.

“I know,” He caught the ball you threw back at him “But I truly want to get a scholarship and maybe become a basketball player.” His tone may have been indifferent but his eyes were full of insecurities that could not could not be ignored.

You had been enemy (friend) with Heeseung long enough to know he had two things he deeply cared for: His family and basketball.

He was the High School team captain but hadn’t managed to receive a scholarship to enter the Sports faculty, which meant he had to rely on his own skills and money.

That wasn’t a problem, you know his family would always support his dreams, but there was something that Heeseung did not tell you about. You had a feeling, however you didn’t want to assume things. He’d tell you when he felt like it.

Your expression softened, you jumped off the railing and moved closer to him, stealing the ball from his hands, that he let you do, and taking a shot.

The ball entered the basket, making you smile proudly “You’re the best player I know, Heeseung.” You said honestly, nudging his shoulder with yours. The ball bounced back to you and you scooped it from the floor, placing a hand that signalled to Heeseung to wait there.

You rushed to your bags and took something he couldn’t see. He waited patiently, following all your movements.

You turned around and showed him what you did— holding out his basketball ball with a smiley face drawn on it “You just have to believe it too.” The smile on your lips matched with the ball’s one, but yours shone brighter. Heeseung felt a warm feeling spread all over his chest, something tickling his heart.

“Not as good as me.” You smirked playfully, taking another shot that missed the basket “Cause at least I fail gracefully.”

Heeseung shook his head, his lips curling into a small grin “You free tomorrow evening?” He suddenly asked and you quickly replied “Not at all.”

Heeseung knitted his brows “Why?” You sat back on the railing “The new season of ‘One Tree Hill’ is airing, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He reached for you, taking the new-styled ball in his hands and rolling it “Not even if I said I’ll buy you Twizzlers?” You pondered a little but then shook your head “Nah ah.”

“Damn.” Heeseung sighed, “I’ll watch it with you, then.”

You blinked faintly “You called my series trash yesterday.” Heeseung nodded “Well, they are.” He hopped on the railing beside you “But when I become the best basketball player in the world, I won’t be able to spend much time with you.”

You smiled, noting how he said ‘when’ and not ‘if’ “Finally some time away from you.” Heeseung faked being offended “I’ll say on national TV that you were about to sabotage my career.” You laughed “I’ll be making prayers for your downfall.”

You both laughed at whatever, teasing each other but knowing when to stop not to upset the other.

“Eight PM, tomorrow?” Heeseung questioned, “I don’t want you in my house.” You answered, laughing “I’ll climb the window.” You immediately shook your head, knowing he could manage to do it, because he had tried once “Fine, loser. Roast beef for dinner, take it or leave it.”

Heeseung smirked, biting his bottom lip “Not you as a meal?” You widened your eyes, pushing him off the railing “What the hell.”

“Ouch—“ He fell flat on the floor, “That hurt.” You wiggled your brows “Serves you right.”

“Oh yeah?” He said, tone flirty as he took the ball and hit you hard with it, making you fall “How dare you!” You started chasing after him while he ran away.

If anyone saw you from afar, they’d think you were two people madly in love with each other… and you were.

You just hadn’t realised it yet.

⪩⪨

“You wanted to become a basketball player?” Jia asked, her voice filled with sleepiness, but she wanted to know how the story continued, so she fought her eyes open.

“Yes dear,” Heeseung placed a featherlight kiss on Jia’s hair. “I played basketball and was the best player in the world— or so Y/N thought.”

“But you don’t play anymore.” She stated and Heeseung shook his head in response “No, I don’t.” Jia yawned softly “Why?”

He sighed sadly, gulping down “Before I went to college, my mother passed away.” Heeseung held Jia a little tighter “She had leukaemia, which is a very bad thing,” He explained easily so that his daughter could understand “And I needed stability, I needed something that basketball couldn’t bring me.”

Jia looked up at him “And what could?”

“Your mother.”

⪩⪨

You couldn’t believe you learned about it two days later. That day was the date of the funeral and you weren’t by Heeseung’s side. Truth to be told, you tried to reach for him a lot in the past few days, but his brother either shrugged you off or didn’t even answer the door.

You thought you did something wrong, but it turned out his mother died due to the illness that had been haunting her for over a year.

You should’ve realised it, you should be by his side, giving him the strength he needed to get through it. Which was why you were running despite the pouring rain, trying to reach the location of the funeral.

You didn’t care if you were going to be sick the next day, your fixed thought was Heeseung and just him.

Heeseung, on the other hand, had been painfully quiet and shut down. He hasn’t comprehended yet that he was going to live the rest of his life without his dear mother, facing the troubles and sufferings of adulthood alone.

The whole room was packed with relatives he had never known about, all giving him pity glances and condolences he didn’t need. He just wanted his mother back.

Sighing, he went outside to have some time alone. As soon as he stepped outside, the cold breeze hugged his body, making him shiver. The rain made his suit wet but he didn’t really care— maybe it would take the pain away with its drain.

He stared at the night sky, the moon and the stars watching him back, probably feeling pity for him too.

His heart was heavy and black, full of grief and sorrow. He just wished you were there to make it better. You always did.

Your smile, your playfulness, your sharp tongue. He liked everything about you, even your ugliest flaw.

As he was trying to fill his dull mind with the thought of you, he saw something rushing in the streets, towards his directions.

The figure kept coming closer and closer until a familiar face was lightened from the lightbulb.

There he saw you, standing under the pouring rain, looking ever so dreamlike. There was a moment where you both just studied each other’s faces, as if you hadn’t seen each other in forever— which felt like it.

Just a couple of days without you made him realise how important you are, how much he needed you. No words were exchanged, there was no necessity, you hurried your steps toward him and hugged him, your embrace so warm in contrast with the cold weather.

Heeseung let out a sob and then another until he was crying ugly on your chest, all the tears he wasn’t able to shed until that day. You rubbed soothing circles on his chest, gripping him tightly, afraid that he would shatter right there.

“W-Why..” He weeped, his voice breaking from the trembling of his lips, due to both the cold and his crying “It— It was too early.. Why her?”

You let him rumble nonsense, knowing how heartbroken and sad he was, you just held him through the pain, hoping to at least relieve some “I know, but I am here now, I won’t leave you.”

Heeseung looked up at you, his eyes glossy, his whole body soaked and nose reddened. Perfect regardless. You stared at him, afraid that if you blinked he would disappear, and he seemed to be thinking the same thought.

You placed your hands on both his cheeks, your thumb rubbing them. Heeseung gulped down, his long lashes and bambi eyes enchanting you, so mesmerising.

You didn’t know what you were doing until you felt his hot breath hit your skin, like one of Jupiter's satellites orbiting around him, getting closer and closer to him.

And then, like a crashing wave, your lips found each other into a gentle and soft kiss, his hands raising to brush against the nape of your neck.

You let out a sigh in his mouth, his hand grasping the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss. It was an anchor that he needed, something not to give up for. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his body flush to yours, both of you warming the other, protecting from the darkness of the world.

He was the first to pull away, his lips swollen as he stared at you “You don’t know how much I waited for this.” He whispered, shaking his head to emphasise his words. Your whole body trembled under his touch, his expression filling with worry “Are you cold? We should—“

You shushed him by reattaching your lips together, only one kiss not enough to calm down the desire, “No,” you murmured on his lips “You just make me feel so much it’s overwhelming.” He let out a small sigh, nodding as if to say he felt the same. His heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his throat, every best spelling your name.

“Thank you for coming,” He whispered and you smiled at him “You know I wouldn’t leave you alone even if I were a ghost— Sorry!” You exclaimed, realising it was not the best time to bring up the conversation you had at the skating rink.

To your surprise, Heeseung laughed out loud and pressed his lips on your brow, ever so caring “Please, don’t ever lose it.”

Puzzled, you asked “Lose what?” Heeseung smiled, “The spark that makes you, you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his gaze intense as he studied those same features he knew by heart. You grinned back “If I had a packet of Twizzlers, I’d give you the last one.”

Heeseung bit his bottom lip, not able to hide the way his lips curled upwards everytime he was with you. “If I had a packet of Rolos, I’d give you the last one.”

⪩⪨

“You kissed mommy?” Jia’s voice grew softer every passing minute “Yes— but you can’t let a person kiss you until you’re eighteen, understood?”

“Why?” She asked, playing with the arms of her purple teddy bear “Because I say so.”

“Is the story finished?” Jia questioned with another yawn, as much as she wanted to hear more, her eyelids were becoming heavier

“I’ll make it quick,” Heeseung started, massaging Jia’s arm. “Mommy and I started dating after that kiss, it wasn’t official because none of us was truly ready, but we both knew what we had was magical.” He smiled within himself.

“Then, we graduated from college and I proposed to her,” Jia’s heart-lips opened to resemble an ‘o’ “With a ring?” Heeseung dipped “Yes, with a ring as beautiful as her.”

“It was an engagement ring, we made a promise to marry after university, and as soon as we got our degrees, we prepared for the big celebration— Your mother looked so perfect by the altar.”

Jia smiled sleepily, imagining how beautiful her mother must’ve looked with the wedding dress on, all candid and white “Like a queen?” Heeseung placed a kiss on her hair “Like a queen.”

“And a couple of years later, we had you.” He smiled happily. Heeseung was so satisfied with his life, and even if he had to give basketball up, he felt like he gained more. He had a beautiful wife, always by his side and a perfect daughter he’d protect with all his might (and probably throw slippers at her boyfriend’s too). His heart never felt so full of love and affection, he was accomplished.

“But the ending…“ He turned around to finish his sentence just to see Jia had fallen asleep, her breaths shallow and calm. He tugged her better under the covers, standing up from the small bed, feeling a little sore but joyful “…Still has to be written.”

He placed another featherlight kiss on her daughter’s forehead, whispering a gentle “Good night.” Before exiting the room.

He closed the door behind her back, hurrying downstairs with light steps. Heeseung saw you were still fast asleep on the couch. He removed the blanket from your figure and hooked his arms behind your neck and knees, scooping you from it.

You blinked your eyes open, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck “Hee?” You murmured, your voice laced with sleep.

“Hey, love.” He nudged his nose with your cheek “Time to get to bed.” You hummed, snuggling closer, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Heeseung opened the door to your bedroom with his foot and slowly placed you down on the mattress. You opened your eyes again, staring at him through your half-lids “Jia?” Heeseung smiled reassuringly. “She’s sleeping, just finished telling her a story.”

He laid down beside you, wrapping the cover over your two figures, he shifted closer to you, holding you close “What story?” You asked, your voice hoarse “Just the best story ever.” He placed a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips

“By the way, I’m a better storyteller than you.” He bragged and you scoffed “Liar.”

“Maybe,” He chuckled, wrapping both his arms around your body “But do you know one thing I never lie about?”

You shook your head “I’d give you my last Rolo.” You smiled, he could feel it on his chest “I’d give you my last Twizzler too.”

[⪩⪨] END.

THANK YOU FOR READING ! REBLOG (and like) AND LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS !

© I2SUNRIC | DON’T STEAL OR CLAIM AS YOURS.

[awhoreforcheeseybiscuts22]

Hey! I love your writing and I saw your requests are open so I thought I’d have a go!

Could I request either a Wolfstar or poly marauders x reader fic where they take care of her when she is sick? I’m a sucker for a good hurt/comfort.

Thanks so much 🥰🥰🥰

I hope you enjoyed this!

CW: The reader is sick and the boys take care of them. Fem!reader. Lots of Comfort.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Feverish Affection

---

You weren't sure what hit you harder—the pounding headache or the intense fever that left you shivering one moment and burning up the next. Every muscle in your body ached, and you were wrapped in a tangle of blankets, cocooned in bed. Your throat was raw, and your voice almost nonexistent as you tried to call for help.

The door creaked open slowly, and Remus poked his head in, eyes immediately softening when he saw the state you were in.

"Hey, love," his voice was low, soothing as he stepped fully into the room, closely followed by Sirius and James. The three of them had been studying in the common room, but as soon as they heard you weren’t feeling well, they dropped everything to check on you.

Sirius walked over to the side of the bed, concern replacing his usual carefree expression. "Merlin, you look awful," he said, though the teasing in his voice was still there. He leaned over, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Definitely a fever.”

Remus swatted at Sirius gently. "Stop pestering her. Let me handle this." He crouched down beside the bed, his touch far more gentle as he brushed a damp strand of hair off your forehead and rested his hand against your cheek, frowning at the heat radiating from your skin. "You’re burning up."

James, carrying a tray loaded with soup, tea, and a cold compress, came up next to the bed. "We've got everything you need. Figured we'd make a day out of it and pamper you," he said, smiling at you with that boyish charm that always managed to lift your spirits.

You tried to smile back, but even that felt like too much effort. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from hours of barely speaking.

“Of course we did,” Sirius said, pulling a chair closer to your bed and sitting down with a flourish. “We can’t have our favorite girl feeling this miserable.”

"Besides," Remus added, adjusting the pillows behind you, "you’ve always taken care of us. It’s only fair we return the favor." He gently helped you sit up, leaning against the fresh pillows. "Here, sip on this," he handed you a cup of tea, the warmth radiating through your hands instantly soothing your chills.

James pulled up a chair beside Sirius, looking satisfied that you'd taken the tea. "We’re staying with you until you’re feeling better, so get comfortable," he said. His protective nature always shone through in moments like this, and you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing he was there.

You sipped the tea slowly, feeling the warmth travel down your throat. Sirius, not content with just sitting, started rummaging through your bedside table, pulling out an old book. "Perfect time for a story," he declared, dramatically flipping through the pages.

“Sirius,” Remus sighed, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless. “She’s barely conscious, I doubt she’s in the mood for one of your terrible reads.”

"On the contrary, I think a dramatic tale of adventure and romance is exactly what she needs," Sirius shot back, plopping down onto the bed next to you with the book in hand.

Before you could even protest, Sirius began narrating in his overly theatrical voice. The story was ridiculous, but his voice soothed you, and despite the pounding headache, you felt your body relaxing under the warmth of the blankets and their presence.

Remus sat next to you, his hand still resting on your shoulder, occasionally brushing his fingers through your hair as a quiet reassurance that he was there. You leaned into his touch, comforted by the small gestures of affection.

"You should try and eat something," James suggested after a while, holding the bowl of soup toward you. "You’ll feel better once you’ve got something warm in your stomach."

You shook your head slightly, feeling too exhausted to eat, but James wasn't having it. "C’mon, just a few bites." His voice was firm but gentle, the perfect mix of authority and care. With a sigh, you took the spoon from him and managed a few sips, and despite your reluctance, the warm broth did soothe the aches just a little.

Sirius, taking advantage of the situation, slung an arm over your shoulder and grinned. "See? We're practically miracle workers." His tone was teasing, but the fondness in his eyes was unmistakable.

“You all spoil me,” you muttered, your head now resting against Remus' shoulder. The exhaustion was pulling you under again, the warmth of their care wrapping around you more effectively than any blanket could.

“Only because we love you,” Remus whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. His voice was low, barely audible over the crackling of the fire in the distance, but the sentiment filled the room.

“Yeah, and because you’d do the same for us,” James added, always the reliable one. He sat back in his chair, arms crossed, watching over you as if he were on guard duty.

Sirius stretched out beside you, flipping through the book lazily, but you could feel his eyes darting to you every few seconds. He was keeping an eye on you in his own way, making sure you were comfortable and safe.

You felt yourself drifting off, lulled by their quiet conversation and the steady comfort of their presence. Before you slipped fully into sleep, you mumbled, "I’m lucky to have you."

“Not as lucky as we are to have you,” Sirius said with a smirk, but his voice softened as he tucked the blankets tighter around you.

Remus squeezed your hand, and James placed the now-empty bowl on your bedside table, watching you settle into sleep with a satisfied smile. "Rest up. We’re not going anywhere."

And with them by your side, you knew that no matter how bad things got, you'd always have them taking care of you.

---

[metalichotchoco]

Robots and their voices

Get ready because this is a long one ;]

A lot of the time characters are defined by their voices but with ai/ robotic characters this works overtime since it’s usually the only outlet into their emotions or character. They can get away with being an off screen presence since they typically aren’t psychical in nature. For all purposes in most cases they are nothing but their voice

Like with Hal, the only way we receive information about this character in visual mediums is his voice. It’s soothing like a lullaby, careful with even tones,smooth.Prideful in the sense of confidence not arrogance. You can hear his ego at being a perfect machine but it’s not boastful there’s no smirk when he says that. It’s how he views himself. You can imagine Hal with a soft smile for most of the movie, trying not to alarm staff. Only at the end does his voice get small, when he pauses for more time than normal as if to take a breath you cannot hear and that he does not need.

Edgar is loud and brash when feeling intense emotion which is a lot. He’s screechy and almost awkward in tonality. When he’s in a better mood he’s still peppy and small sounding. A sense of confusion is what a lot of lines read as but once he looks it up or figures it out, he’s much lower and monotone. With the Cinderella dialogue it sounds like he’s reading the information straight off the website he found it from.hes hot and cold he’s immature. A pest more than a true menace, due to his “newness” he doesn’t talk down to the humans in the movie but he’s underhanded and petty, craving love and attention and begging to be heard. A lot of the time you can hear his voice sort of breaking. It’s probably an audio issue from the time the movie was made, a filter over the actors voice but it works incredibly well for him.

Glados and her lines ooze sarcasm. She talks down to you more like you’re a nuisance she has to deal with than an equal in any sense (until potato glad but she’s almost a completely different character,not quite though) you can hear the exact moment she lies to you directly, diegectically it’s as if she needs to find a loophole to lie to your face so there’s a slight disconnect. Glados has a very singsong voice, her pronunciation going into higher and lower registers to express emotion rather than actually putting in actual anger or happiness into the monotone. It does a good job of selling this robotic lady who doesn’t view you with any sort of respect until she has to in the second game.

Whealtey by comparison is very non robotic in his voice or manner which makes sense since he’s a personality core and none of the standard robotic traits like objectivity, rationality, intelligence or indifference are present in him specifically on purpose. He’s anxious but optimistic, he rambles to sound like he knows what he’s talking about but it makes it even more apparent he has zero clue what he’s doing. You can immediately tell he’s incompetent at his job from the second you first really talk to him and it makes him all the more endearing.his power trip doesn’t exactly change that either, just attempts to self aggrandize, look and feel important. He sounds “confident” but he talks to the point where you realize just how insecure and unsure he is about anything. The British accent is also weirdly enough feeding into his fake intellectualism since Americans tend to view people with said accent as smarter even if they aren’t saying anything particularly smart.

The narrator is what you’d get if you crossed glados and Whealtey’s attitudes to character voice work but that’s reductive to him and the Stanley parable in general. The whole game is predicated on whether or not you listen to him/ mess with him. It’s an interactive story in the most basic of descriptions. The narrator is literally trying to talk you through a story and gets more distressed and annoyed as the player tries to exert and wrestle control from him. When you think of a narrator this type of voice comes to mind, a British masculine monotone that ebbs and flows with the story. This whole game is a meta narrative so it’s a very smart choice for this to be the case. There’s no robotic tone to his voice because that’s not the point, he’s basically the only real character in the game which makes him feel more human than the actual human we control who cannot speak, only act. He’s the one that makes us feel anything about the game. More the most part the narrator conveys a self assured calm tone, a blank canvas to react to the players weird actions.

Last for today is am and oh boy is he a doozy. Mr Ellison really does his creation justice on how powerful his performance can be. Am in the game and radio drama are actually sort of different characters but it makes sense since in the game he’s literally playing a game with the survivors whereas in the radio drama we get closer to the actual book. For a lot of these characters, the protagonists tend to be silent or reclusive but for am to still be as dominant of a presence with 5 other speaking roles is a testament to the type of character he is. For game am, he sounds almost like a car salesman. He talks down to the survivors, even very obviously flirting with them. You can imagine the mile wide grin on his face when he pulls something. But he’s not exactly desperate, more just like he’s playing a sick little game. Am does things that not even the most human sounding ais do, blowing raspberrys, coughing, laughing, crying. His cadence even makes it feel as if he’s breathing even though you cannot hear it. He’s very intense and visceral. He can go from relaxed and playful to manic and deranged so naturally and it’s what makes him so scary. This computer is far far too human. Everything he does also reminds you that he cannot move or breathe, he cannot scream or cry but it’s clear that he should. The reality of what he is looms over this performance. For as sad as he gets, no tears will flow.his chest will not move because he does not have one.

[gh0stswh0re]

"-s gonna be alright, darling, i'm right here, just breathe"

warnings: f! reader, softdom (!) simon, forced orgasms + overstimulation, previously established consent + safeword, mild descriptions of war, very dramatic for no reason, 550+ words

a/n: at the end, cuz they are too long

...

he is a man of determination and sheer willpower, a man with a strong moral ground and one might even dare saying simon riley is a bit of a patriot.

dangerous, is what he really is - like a predator he moves, like a sickened predator he stalks and watches, like a bloodthirsty, bellicose predator he hunts down and slaughters whatever poor bastard is his next set target.

he is blind and rabid - a weapon, a machine on the battlefield with phantoms of war scattered across his skin, still haunting his flesh, seared deep inside.

yet, here he is - his lips skating the heartbeat on your neck, his fingers twitching as the grip of his hand on your hip tightens, turning his knuckles a sorrowful white as he caresses you - as if you are the one and only thing to cherish, admire, protect.

weak - he hates and despises being weak, but good lord above he just loves seeing you weak, crumpled underneath him - broken, shattered, tainted.

passing his thumb over your bottom lip - swollen and flushed pink - prying open your mouth, flattening it against your tongue - you gag and he chuckles, as if to torment you, or, perhaps pity your pathetic state. as another finger slides across your clit, teasing it with a quick swirl, and you chew down on the inside of your cheek, nearly drawing blood as you bite down a whine, the ever-so-similar longing seared inside your abdomen.

his eyes dark - like coal, waiting to engulf in burning flames - as he watches you bury your face into his chest, smearing the remains of the dried-up mascara on his shirt "even as you sob, and tears fall down this pretty face-" heaving breaths wreck his tone, "even as you scream and plea-" he begins rocking his thigh, "you keep your eyes on me" one hand squeezes your cheek, until the flushed skin begins to burn and you whimper as you swallow, "even with your mind gone and body fucked into oblivion, you still follow orders" you squeal - completely cornered by his body pressed against yours - boldly, with only a few hints of concern for how tight the grip he held on you was, as he coos you.

he makes you count - pleasure now mixes with stiff pain, muscles spasming and limbs trembling, white flashing behind your tightly shut eyelids - he makes you count.

shows no remorse either - a slap against the soft skin of your inner thigh snaps you back into the physical realm, "four, sir-" his hand leans higher up, two fingers teasing the wet slit - "four, it was my fourth orgasm" - before an even sharper slap lands against the sore clit and spikes of hot pain ripple through you - from the wet, drippy core up to your spine, the aftershock pulsating in your muscles, "and thank you, sir".

it was stupid - nearly ridiculous - the guilt you feel, as you wince and tremble in his lap, shame and excitement pumping through your system. "-s gonna be alright, darling, i'm right here, just breathe"

you could fight back, you convince yourself - sputter protests, but the trembling tone hiding the silent pleas would, ultimately, betray you.

he makes your skin burn, and your insides twist into ugly knots, as you plead with him to just touch you, despite begging him to stop not even a minute ago, the hungry lust shadowing his face, hiding his expression - it was an ache, an ache only he could soothe. "don't care how sensitive and sore it is, princess, -m still gonna fuck you"

...

a/n: not to be melodramatic (*narrator's voice* she is, infact, dramatic and will remain to be a dramatic hoe for the rest of her life) but y'all are so sweet and i have no idea how to thank y'all for ur patience and support <33 i never would have imagined this december would be so busy and stressful, but y'all are gorgeous and deserve only the best!! for the next few days it's gonna be five or so dribbles + any additional fics i haven't posted yet

[mixelation]

I recently read Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer! I was a bit skeptical of it because I really disliked the movie, and the reasons people said the book was far superior had very little to do with why I disliked the movie. However, I found the book pretty engaging. The prose seems a little rigid at first, but you get used to it as a stylistic choice to reflect the voice of the POV character pretty quickly. I thought the pacing was pretty good and sense of suspense well done, and as a result I read it in about two sittings (which is fast for me lol).

Annihilation is about a team of four women entering the mysterious Area X, a deserted zone of "ecological disaster." Their team's goal seems to be to explore the area, but as the story progresses, we learn a lot of information has been withheld and the expedition's true purpose is unclear. Area X is a sort of supernatural-meets-scifi area of strange occurrences: there's a strange wailing of unknown origin at night, the narrator character (a biologist) is constantly noting strange fungus-like growths, there's ~unknowable~ creatures wandering around. Oh, and it's also the sort of story where all the characters are slowly losing their minds for various reasons. I've seen the genre described as horror, although I'd describe the mood as vaguely unsettling rather than frightening.

My main complaint about the movie was that, IIRC, a lot of it leaned heavily on unknown-biology-as-horror and very poor biological explanations. The book isn't like this: the POV character specializes in "transitional environments," by which I think it's meant she's a community ecologist interested in ecological succession or else how environmental perturbances alter ecology. So there's a lot of prose of her describing ecological communities, both real ones and the almost-supernatural ones of Area X, but it's done without the infuriating attempts at an "explanation" which makes no sense, nor is discovering a new community arising villainized as being horrifying in how unknown it is. In some ways, getting to watch such a new community talk hold is portrayed as soothing to the main character. So in that regard, I enjoyed the novel.

Most of the negative reviews I saw of this book focused on the unreliability of the narrator or the lack of resolution for mysteries encountered. It is very true that the narrator is unreliable and she occasionally admits to withholding information form the reader, or in some places it's not clear if what she describes even really happened or was a hallucination. If you don't like that trope, you will hate this book. If you love unreliable narrators.... I wouldn't call this a stand-out or particularly interesting example, but it sure is unreliable.

Now, given this book is basically all suspense for a building mystery, I did feel throughout the whole read that the end would make or break it. And my conclusion upon finishing it is.... it's fine? I wasn't blown away by the ending, but I wasn't dissatisfied. However, I think you will be very frustrated as a reader if you expect clear-cut explanations, or for every detail to be resolved. The mysteries put forth by this book come in three categories:

the narrator - we get a full character arc with her, and in this regard I found the ending satisfying. again, it's not mind-blowing, but it does feel adequately resolved. you do have to be alright with some ambiguities and making your own conclusions, but i personally like this in a story.

the southern reach - this is the name of the agency organizing the expedition (and the name of the trilogy). Their purpose/goals are unclear, and we become aware rather quickly that they are sending people to gruesome deaths and outright lying to them about it. Personally, I didn't find them that compelling as a mystery, and didn't care to learn more than "they're a generic cryptic agency, you know the type." Some, but not all, of these mysteries will be resolved, and some of those resolutions will just open up more questions, which could be frustrating if you are interested in this element of the plot and are also the type of reader who expects all questions to be answered by the end of a story. Worry not, though-- there's two more books!

Area X itself -- like I said, there's very little attempt to actually explain WTF is going on here and why, although you sort of start to intuit the logic of this strange world. honestly, i feel that "solving" the mystery of Area X is beyond the point of the story (which is about the narrator being obsessed with ecological change but terrified and unwillingly to cope with change in her own life) and trying to shove an explanation into the movie was doomed to fail. it's unclear to me if the subsequent books will get into this or not.

Overall, a pretty good read, would recommend. I might read the other two books one day, but probably not for my next read.

[vickyvicarious]

seeing ppl go "lol jonathan why are you admitting you found them hot what will mina think of you when she reads it!!!" has me go "*shakes you* you are going against the thesis of the book!!!"

I know some of why is dependent on knowledge of future events, and so people new to Dracula Daily won't be aware of it. But to be honest, Jonathan admitting his attraction to the vampire ladies is so, so important to me. On several different character levels, even outside of the entire book proving over and over again that sharing knowledge is absolutely vital (and is also an expression of deep love/trust/support).

Let's just stick the quote in here for reference:

There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth.

Firstly - he needs to keep an accurate record. This is his only place to speak freely, his only opportunity to be precise about what he is going through. It is vitally important for him to keep his sanity intact that he be clear and try to remain logical in this diary. We see him fact-checking again and again. We can extrapolate from other statements that he doesn't always mention everything he suspects unless he feels it relevant or possible to prove. For example, repeatedly noting Dracula himself doing things before ever getting around to voicing the theory that the Count has no servants (he collected evidence first, didn't speak his suspicions until they were proven). Or putting the crucifix above his bed and taking the opportunity to sleep elsewhere, thus pointing to feeling unsafe and possibly experiencing bad dreams in his own room (he mentioned what he does about it, but not the feeling on its own or whatever nightmares he may be having). Jonathan works very hard to keep his diary focused on a few things above all: what the Count/ladies are, what everyone does, what Jonathan observes or learns, his actionable plans. He of course expresses his fears and emotions at times in his diary, more than he can out loud, but never going all the way down the rabbithole of fear, hopelessness, etc. He tries to calm himself by sticking to facts (all the harder when something strange is happening), which is in itself a soothing process for him so that's helpful too. His goal is to make this diary useful to himself and to others, if he ever gets the chance to share it. There is a goal here.

And what that means, is that the things Jonathan writes in great detail are things that feel relevant to him. The entire encounter with the vampire ladies was extremely important. It revealed a ton of new information to him, as well as being a truly horrifying and traumatic thing to go through. Jonathan's feelings are as relevant as his observations/actions here, because both are directly affected by the presence of the vampire women. Jonathan can't move. He feels dreamy. He feels attracted to them. He cannot resist and in the moment a large part of him didn't even want to. These are all effects they are causing, at least to some extent. I know mileage can vary a lot on how much of Jonathan's attraction is just coming from him, but honestly, I can't agree with any version that doesn't have a natural attraction at the very least being exacerbated by supernatural vampire abilities somehow. If not caused or called forth by them in the first place. The way he narrates, with so much obvious fear and revulsion mixed in with the desire, makes that clear to me. He sounds like he doesn't fully understand his own feelings at the time, at least where they all came from or why they were so strong. It goes along with all the other symptoms he is experiencing, and the other abilities they demonstrate. And so, to keep his record accurate - it has to go in. He cannot leave it out. It might become very relevant later.

Secondly - Jonathan is honest with Mina, specifically. I love this about their relationship. I don't think it's so much 'I noticed they were attractive' that he fears might hurt her, because Mina isn't particularly shy herself about noticing both women and men as good-looking, and even admiring their looks while on a date with Jonathan (poor Pretty Girl in Piccadilly). He also called local women pretty in his first entry as well (though he did say "except when you got near them" so it felt a bit backhanded to me), so again it's not the noticing that's an issue either way. It's more that he felt actual desire to act on an attraction, or rather for them to act. This is unusual, this is a separate matter from noticing people are hot, this is something that comes much closer to cheating or at least wanting to, and he feels very guilty about it. There's no real sense that he is worried Mina will be angry at him, and there's no sense that he will ever outside of that one moment ever want to act on any attraction he feels for someone other than Mina (or someone Mina also approves of, varying depending on your polycula headcanons). I personally do kind of tend to view Jonathan as some form of demisexual so how much he even tends to feel attraction to other people is often a little wibbly to me, but that's kind of irrelevant for the point of this. We can also set aside the shared language of "kiss" between Jonathan and the vampire ladies, and how this may point to a desire to become available for being drunk from, rather than necessarily sexual desire specifically, even if that's the type of language used. With regards to Mina: he's not worried about being caught, because he is choosing not to hide. He feels bad talking about the attraction because it might hurt her feelings, but he'll admit to it regardless because it's more important to him to be honest with her. Jonathan hates hiding things from Mina. This actually becomes plot-relevant later on. Even when she herself expressly forbids him from telling her stuff, he feels anguished about it and is certain to ensure that records are kept which she can read later. He trusts her completely. Embarrassment, shame, bad behavior, or whatever else - he will still share that with her. The only times he doesn't confide in Mina are when he's trying to repress everything because he thinks he was crazy (and possibly may even have some PTSD-related memory loss as well), or when he and the other men are trying to make sure she isn't exposed to danger (which is wrong in several ways but this post isn't about that so I won't get into it), and of course when she tells him not to. Every single time he feels upset about it. So yeah, he's going to regret that she may feel hurt, but deliberately hiding things from her would be worse.

Thirdly - Jonathan admitting his attraction here is a huge comfort to Mina later on. I truly believe this. I've talked about it before actually, but let me try to rephrase a bit to keep it on the same post. By being open about his own attraction and experience with nearly being drunk from, he provides precedent for Mina's October 3rd trauma. It makes it easier (though obviously still not easy) for her to admit to the same kind of desire:

"I was bewildered, and, strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him. I suppose it is a part of the horrible curse that such is, when his touch is on his victim."

Mina never blamed Jonathan for expressing such thoughts. She wasn't concerned about the issue being another woman when she came to him in the hospital, and when she read his diary she never mentioned any hesitations or misgivings about this scene at all. But even if she had secretly felt upset before (I personally don't see her thinking that way at all, but for the sake of argument), I think that experiencing something similar would make her grateful for Jonathan's candor. In a moment when she's already feeling deeply unclean and complicit, Jonathan's earlier honesty here relieves her from a little bit of the guilt she is feeling. It lets her recognize her own lack of desire to stop Dracula as something he did to her, just like Jonathan experienced with the vampire ladies when he couldn't/didn't want to move away. It's possible even that Mina felt more explicit desire for Dracula's 'red lips to kiss her' but didn't feel comfortable saying quite that much - even if so, again Jonathan's account would be a comfort.

And having that account written down long ago means she has already internalized this. If Jonathan had kept it hidden only to try and ease her mind later, well... first off, Mina too might have kept her reaction hidden out of guilt. And even if she didn't or he told her then, a confession at that time wouldn't mean nearly as much or carry the same kind of weight, I don't think. It would feel like he's making excuses for her, like he didn't trust her enough to tell her earlier, just... bad stuff mixed in, which are all avoided by having Jonathan be truthful from the start.

[honey-ca]

𝟷. 𝙾𝙷! 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁

15.06 pm. California

Clear afternoon, the sun at its brightest, ushering in the summer. Squeals of children saying goodbye to each other for the summer, hoping to see each other again, and some were just happy not to be going back to school. This was the case for the seniors, in a few months some were going to university and others were going to start their working life. The corridor of the school was full of people who were gradually disappearing and the summer holidays were beginning.

'Finally' Dipper Pines sighed as he stuffed his last book into his backpack 'Vacation is officially starting.' Dipper closed the locker with the intention of going to meet his sister.

'DIPPER!'

'Aaaaah!' The Pines twin put a hand to his heart in an attempt to calm himself.

'Aren't you excited?' .Mabel wiggled and jumped up and down with excitement. ”After a long time we'll be back in Gravity Falls."

The Pines twins hadn't been back to Gravity Falls in about 5 years; high school had taken up a lot of their time and besides their mother, she didn't support the idea of them going back after the big mess with Stanley and Stanford. So this year they were going to Gravity Falls before entering college.

“What about Kai?” They started walking.

“He'll still be in recovery, you know what that old man, like." Mabel put a hand to her chest, "How can he do that to my Kai? It's torture!

“Don't complain, it's been good for Maths.”

The twins walked in the direction of the class where their classmate was, they talked about how they were looking forward to going back and the things they had to teach their friend.

“Are we going to talk to her about what happened to Kai," Mabel asked.

“Obviously not," Dipper replied confidently.

“But he has a right to know something," his sister said.

“I don't want Kai to think we're crazy and take him away from us.

“Oh! Dipper got sentimental” Mabel started laughing as she patted her brother's shoulder. Dipper grabbed his sister's hands and tried to stop her from slapping him on the shoulder, but Mabel started kicking him; people passing in the hallway gave the twins a strange look.

“Mabel, stand still," Dipper tried to defend himself with his limbs.

“You leave my hands alone," Mabel replied.

“I really can't leave you two alone for a minute.

The brothers stopped fighting at the sound of the third voice that had joined the conversation.

“Kai!” shouted the twins in surprise at the same time.

‘Shall we go? I can't wait to get out of this prison," he pointed to the exit.

The trio headed for the exit, talking about the last few classes they'd had and the excitement of the holidays starting.

“We have a lot to show you, you're going to love it, there's a beautiful lake, on that same boat I met one of the loves of my life!” We also have to introduce you to Uncle Stan and Uncle Stan..." Mabel spoke with excitement.

They continued walking while Mabel narrated all the things they could do in Gravity Falls, Kai listened to her attentively while he hugged her arm and Dipper was just making sure they didn't pass the street of his house. “There's an arcade and there's also an..." Mabel was talking until she was interrupted. “We're home, Mabel," interrupted Dipper.“So soon," complained Mabel, throwing a tantrum like a little girl, "I want to keep telling Kai things!“You'll talk to me in the morning, don't worry," Kai soothed as he hugged her goodbye.

Then he turned to Dipper to say goodbye with a fist bump.“Tomorrow at seven o'clock at our house. Dipper pointed out to him.” Not a minute more, not a minute less. Kai lifted his right arm and his left arm could be in his heart, "I promise I'll be at your front door at six in the morning.“Yes, yes," Dipper pushed Kai friendly across the pavement and they each went their separate ways out of sight.

6:57 a.m ,California

'We're going to be late," the younger Pines twin was spinning around, looking like he was about to have a stroke. 'Don't worry, Dipper," Mabel tried to reassure him, who was putting the harness on Bamboleos. 'You told him at six o'clock, he's probably just around the corner. Dipper sighed and rolled his eyes as he saw that his sister wasn't helping.

The bus was leaving at 8 a.m. and the bus station was 20 minutes away. Dipper looked back at his digital wrist watch "6:58" The younger twin put his hands to his face and rubbed them all over his face trying to control himself. 'Are you ready yet?" asked the twins' mother as she came down the stairs. She had offered to drive the three of them to the bus stop. 'Kai hasn't come yet.' Dipper said as he anxiously swung his leg.

'Well, it's not too late'. His mother replied. She took the suitcases with her children and put them in the car while they waited for Kai. "7:00" Dipper was about to get an ulcer, normally Kai was on time but he didn't understand why he wasn't on time today, and it was getting on his nerves.

He stared at the street Kai had to pass through in the hope that he would just show up and they could get to the bus station in time. 'Go start the car, Mom, I'll get the bags in'. Dipper grabbed one of the suitcases when he saw his mother nodding in agreement. Once again he looked at his watch "7:02" His body began to sweat from nerves, so to forget about Kai's tardiness he put the suitcases back in. Until he noticed that one of the suitcases was missing, as if that wasn't enough now he had lost a suitcase. He intended to go and ask his sister but she was too busy dancing with Bamboleos.

'Sir, there's a chance you might let me ride with you in your car," he said. When Dipper heard the voice that interrupted his head, so he turned his head to find Kai. Her hair was a bit messy, her breathing was ragged and her jacket was misplaced, but she was still smiling. 'You're late," I said, squinting at her as I pointed to my watch. She just sighed as she rolled her eyes. 'I know you're glad I came," he said as he handed me his suitcase to put in the boot.

I took her suitcase ignoring how she had repeated my words in a more childish and sharp tone, when I put everything in the boot I closed it and turned around to look at her with the intention of leaving, but she started to look for something in her backpack. I watched her as she took something out of her backpack, I could see that sparkle in her eyes that always fascinated me, the light brown colour of her eyes, that small red mole near her eye, and the mascara on her eyelashes which had smudged a little. "She has very pretty eyes. I thought to myself as I stared at her until...

"Here, for my lateness". She interrupted my thoughts by holding out a chocolate bar.

"Hmm, thank you" I said as I moved to the back door of the car to open it, she gave me a grateful smile. When I closed the door I went to the passenger seat next to my mother.Mabel was overjoyed when Kai sat next to her. She hugged Kai and they went on like that for quite a while, until Bamboleos stepped in to greet Kai. 'I missed you too, fatty'. He said to Bamboleos as he dragged him along.

'Are we all ready," my mother asked as she walked out of the neighborhood. To which we all responded in unison with a yes.-I thank you again, Mrs. Pines, for letting me go on holiday with your children. Kai spoke to her with some embarrassment. We had known each other for almost 5 years and I was still shy with my parents; even when I was at our house I still asked if I could have a glass of water! 'Don't give them to me honey, I'm glad you're happy. You're like part of the family now," my mother explained. My mother had always adored Kai, since the first day Mabel brought her home to do biology work together my mother had been delighted with her; even though she knew I didn't like her at the time.

The rest of the trip to the station went by in the blink of an eye, Mabel kept telling Kai everything she couldn't tell him in the middle of the day. My mother was humming a song that had been on the radio, and I, I was dying of nerves, it had been so long since I had been back to Gravity Falls, how everyone will be, how everything had changed, how... how everything was going to be without him.

7:52 ,Bus station

We had arrived at the bus station a few minutes ago, we had already done all the checking, and my mother had already cried. We were in the back of the bus, getting ready for the journey. Mabel was next to Bamboleos, and I was next to Kai, who was putting her suitcase on the top shelf.

'OK, so right now we only have 6 hours to go and we'll arrive in Gravity Falls, we'll be there by lunchtime.' Dipper said.

He was sitting by the window with a brochure of Gravity Falls, the last stop. Mabel was sitting behind Dipper next to Bamboleos, and Kai was putting the extra suitcases on the top shelf. When Kai finished and moved with the intention of sitting down, but when he couldn't, he stared at Dipper waiting for Dipper to telepathically know what he wanted.Dipper felt a look on his face and turned his gaze to Kai.

'What's wrong with you?' he asked, Kai was still staring at him waiting for him to guess the answer.

A shiver ran through his body as he felt Kai's gaze on him. Though it all made sense as soon as Kai pointed to the window and then to his spot, then made a heart shape with his hands.

Dipper rolled his eyes back as he shifted in his seat, once he had his belt on Kai stepped over him and sat down on the seat next to the window 'Was that so hard to tell me,' Dipper reproached him, narrowing his eyes.

Kai gave him a big smile in response. 'It was so much more fun in that way, you get really bitter when there's a lot of stress involved'.

Dipper just sighed as he pulled out a book for the trip, then looked at Kai who was already prepared with her helmets and finally Dipper looked back to see how his sister was doing, but it was no surprise when he found Bamboleos and Mabel already half asleep.

Dipper sighed again as he smiled faintly, 'It's going to be a long summer.

[shiicheol]

silent converstions ~ 2

‣ pairing: jeon wonwoo x oc 

‣ summary: Maxine found comfort in regularly sending messages to the number of her deceased ex, seeing no harm in it—until she received a response from a persistent stranger named Wonwoo. What are the chances of forming a connection with this unexpected stranger? How will their story unfold?

‣ genre: strangers to lovers. angst.

‣ chapters:

one

‣ disclaimer: The ideas and personalities depicted in this Alternate Universe (AU) do not reflect the actual views or characteristics of the artists. Their names are used purely as placeholders. Please remember that these stories are fictional and do not represent reality. Thank you!

NOTE: Text messages are in italics, while non-italicized text represents thoughts and narration

Wonwoo's POV

Texting Stranger

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being a bother. I'm sorry because you have to put up with a stranger persistent enough to message a person who is no longer here.

What life do you live that makes it feel like you should apologize for grieving?

Texting Stranger

Please, don't respond anymore. You will never hear from me again. Thank you for your time.

There's so much I want to say but in respect to you, I will hold back.

No messages from you? I said to myself, as I observed the lockscreen of my device.

I'll assume that you're in the process of moving on. I hope you're doing well wherever and whoever you may be. 

However, as if one cue, the name of the Unknown sender had flashed on my screen again.

Texting Stranger

Hi, love. I told myself that I'll stop messaging you but here I am with a bottle of alcohol and a million emotions running through my heart.

I remember you used to commend me for having exceptionally good typing skills despite being drunk. It once used to be a memory I hold dear to my heart but now the thought of it wrecks me in unimaginable ways.

I was fine. I've been fine. Or maybe I thought I was.

How can I ever be fine, right? How is it possible for me to move on? You've managed to move on but why can't I do the same?

Fuck.

I'm rambling again, aren't I? I remember every time I would be in talkative mode, you would interrupt me and it would lead to an argument. Believe it or not, I miss it so much.

Please, love, stop me from rambling again. I promise I won't get mad at you. Just, please.

I don't know you personally but why do I feel your pain? 

Texting Stranger

Can I call? Please?

Her message had been surprising, yet my response was beyond me. The next thing I knew, I was waiting for the call, not hesitating to click the answer button, as if the panic i had felt previously had been abandoned.

As soon as I picked up the phone, a sense of regret flashed through me as I was met with mere silence at the end of the line.

I thought that maybe she had fallen asleep.

Seconds passed. 

Minutes passed.

Nothing.

I released a breath of relief I didn't know I was holding upon realizing the possibility of her being in a drunken state.

"Hmmm," I heard a soft groan from my device just as I was about to click the end button.

I looked at it with wide eyes, waiting for her to speak again.

"Love... I miss you, love," the voice slurred out.

"P-please, come back," said the soft voice again.

I couldn't seem to do anything but listen.

That was until I heard a whimper.

"Shhhhh," I tried soothing her.

What could I do, right? What can I say?

For a time, it became a cycle. She would repeat words such as "Love." "I miss you." "Please, come back." Then I would try to calm her down.

Until she asked a question that caught me off guard.

"C-can you please sing me a song like before?" She said with a voice that showed zero signs of sobriety.

Me? Sing? That was something kept private between me and the confines of my own space.

"Please."

But declining would be too selfish when I know the state she was already in.

I sigh.

With no second thought, I started humming a lullaby.

"I can't hear you." she slurred.

With another sigh, I made my voice louder but not too much for it to disturb next-door neighbors.

Just when I was about to finish singing the 3rd song, I heard silent snores from the other end of the line.

I released another breath of relief I realize I was holding.

I looked at the clock and it read, 4:30 am.

We've been on call for 2 hours.

I considered ending the call but it didn't feel right. I thought of staying the entire time but it didn't feel right either.

So after much contemplation, I decided to wait 20 minutes before hanging up.

That way, I'll know that she's in the middle of her deep sleep.

As I waited for time to pass by, I wondered why I was doing this in the first place.

I'm not one to do favors for others.

I'm not one to do phone calls late at night.

I'm not one to sing a song.

I'm not one to empathize.

But why?

I would say out of pity but is it really?

If it was simply out of pity, I would feel nothing but sorry for her.

So, why?

Why do I care so much?

Why do I feel the need to be there for her?

Why do I want her to feel happy?

Why does it hurt when I hear her cry even though I don't know who she is?

Why?

Why do I see myself in her?

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 4 - Post #1: Past is Prologue

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

GIF by pedrorascal

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 2.2K (first post in Volume 4)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, *NSFW*

A/N: Using 3rd person POV for this one. This episode takes place directly after the events of Volume 2: Post #4

__________________________________________

Flashback...

“Easy,” someone said in her ear, placing a steadying hand on her back. “Easy. Try not to move.”

Thulani wanted to insist she was fine, but that would be a lie. Her head was throbbing, there was a distinct ringing in her ears, and the ebb of adrenaline had her shivering. She lay crumpled on her side, unsure of how much time had passed since she had been thrown across the room and into a wall. 

She didn’t think she’d blacked out. But that was the funny thing about head trauma. You simply could not trust your memory to be a reliable narrator of recent events. It could have been several hours or no time at all. 

I can’t have been unconscious that long, she realized. 

While the Odbori district was located outside the city walls, this amount of destruction would require some attention from the local constabulary, regardless of who owned the place. It was an open secret that the building was a front for Black Sun’s unlicensed gambling tables. Which is the only reason her neighbors weren’t already climbing over the rubble to get a better look. Nobody wanted to get caught in the crossfire. 

But kriffing hell, a rather sizable portion of her apartment had collapsed onto the street!

One thing Thulani felt very sure about was that her shoulder had taken the brunt of the impact. It hurt like a mother fucker and did not appreciate being crushed underneath her. It had started to tingle from lack of circulation, and if she didn’t move it soon, it would go numb.

She shifted her weight to ease the strain, but that steadying hand on her back resisted.

“Easy,” he said again. “Be still.” 

She didn’t recognize his voice. It sounded…oddly distorted. 

The lens of her visor was chipped, but from this angle, Thulani had a very clear view of the smoldering remains of what had been her ‘Terms of Service’ signage. Only a few words had been left untouched by the wreckage, the largest of which proclaimed in bold: COMPLY. 

A very unsubtle message from the universe.

“Don't move until I've checked your spine.” Strong fingers pinched the back of her neck. It felt strangely intimate, and her whole body shivered. “Does this hurt?”

Unable to form words, she tried to shake her head no in response. But his other hand immediately reached for her chin to stop her. “Don’t do that.”

His voice was firm yet gentle. The smell of his leather gloves tugged at the edges of her memory. She knew this man.

“It’s not a spinal injury,” she lifted up her hand. “No sharp pain, and I can feel all my digits. See?” 

“Good,” said the Mandalorian. He made it sound like wiggling her fingers was a great accomplishment. 

She would have been annoyed, but there was something genuinely comforting about his voice. It was calm, and soothing, and kind. She could not recall hearing another voice that was so reassuring. 

“Does your head hurt?” his gloved hands probed her skull. “Any sore spots?”

“Ah!” She hissed. “There.” 

He made an amused hmmm-ing noise. 

“I probably have a concussion.”

But he remained silent, his fingers working. “Nothing soft,” he said after a moment. “Can you focus your eyes?”

“Yes. I can see where, under my 'Patient Code of Conduct,' I used the wrong character, so it actually says defecate instead of accommodate.”

For some reason, tears began pressing against the creases of her eyelids. It’s okay. That’s just the adrenaline crash. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that…anymore.”

“Exactly. Try not to worry about anything right now.” 

An absurd snort of laughter burst through her nostrils. That voice. She wanted to trust it. She wanted to believe that everything really would be okay.

“I don’t feel any swelling,” he said moments later. 

It felt nice to be soothed and comforted. When was the last time another person had tended to her like this? 

Thulani flushed, reminding herself that this level of attention wasn’t necessary. She could sense as well as treat her own injuries. 

Any misgivings died on her lips when she felt his thumbs settle on either side of her vertebra between her shoulder blades. There was nothing sexual about his touch. However, she became keenly aware of his wide shoulders looming over her and how vulnerable she was lying on the ground. 

Yet, she did not feel afraid.

“Tell me if anything hurts or goes numb.”

“Mmm-hmm,” was all she could manage once his hands made their way down to her lower back. Layers of cloth and leather between them, but she imagined she could feel his fingertips pressing into her skin. She gasped when his thumb pressed into her tailbone. 

“Does that hurt?”

“No. Maybe. I’m sure it’s just a bruise.”

“You’ve got some glass buried in your hip and shoulder, but I think the concussion is the worst of it.” 

Ah! Yes, that would explain the excruciating pain…and the pool of blood I’m lying in.

“I’m going to lift you up now,” the Mandalorian said. “We need to leave before the roof collapses.”

He slipped his hands under her arms and, kneeling behind her, picked her up in one swift, effortless motion. She noticed he was careful not to let his fingers touch any part of her breasts and appreciated the gallantry. Honorable was not the same as trustworthy, but it was pretty damn close. 

The Mandalorian was quite a bit taller than she was, and her feet momentarily hovered above the floor before he set her down again. Once upright, she found herself standing with her back against his chest. 

“How’s your head?” he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to place a gentle hand on her temple. “Are you nauseous? Dizzy?” 

Thulani could feel his voice rumbling against her back. “N–No,” she murmured. It felt childish, but she couldn’t suppress the yearning that he might hold her. 

“I’m just not used to being on the other side of this dynamic,” she said aloud to herself as much as him. She needed to get it together. Her life was literally burning down around her, and here she was, swooning over some stranger. 

“How am I doing?” he asked from over her shoulder, taking her left arm by the elbow to inspect her cuts.

“Better than most warriors I’ve known. Maybe you missed your calling?”

A small huff of static crackled through the modulator when he laughed.

“We should patch up your arm, but I don’t think there's time.”

“It’s okay. I’ll get to it later.”  

“Worried I’ll start cutting some holes in your clothing?”

Um…what?

Thulani turned to face the Mandalorian. Her heart had skipped a few beats. Did he just…make a joke?

“I’m–I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I needed to insert the chest tube and—” 

"There's no call to apologize. Didn’t I just tell you not to worry?” 

There hadn’t been anything suggestive in his tone, but her stomach clenched suddenly in a wave of arousal. Stop this! What is wrong with me? She should at least wait until they were clear of the burning building before her thoughts turned to seduction. 

“Can you walk?”

Despite Thulani’s assurances that she could, she took one step and immediately swayed on the spot. 

“Careful,” he caught her by the waist before she could fall face-first back to the floor. “Let me help you.” 

The Mandalorian pulled the cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her. She didn’t realize she’d been trembling. Thulani looked up at him, surprised, and then he bent down, slid his arm behind her knees, and picked her up.

She didn’t know what to say. His arms were strong and protective. She wanted to rest her forehead on his shoulder, to curl up against his chest—the soft parts of him between the armor. Her life had taken a very unexpected turn in the past few hours, and she was so tired, and it would be so easy to simply give over to that strength and let him rescue her.

“I can walk.”

“No. You can’t. And I wasn’t exaggerating. The roof could come down any minute. We can’t wait for you to stagger out of here.”

“So you’re going to carry me across Dorumaa?”

“I promised I’d get you out.” He said it as though that explained everything. A man of his word.

“I didn’t expect such kindness from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yes. I did just watch you immolate several people in my living room.”

She couldn’t believe that soothing, trustworthy voice came from the same man. Maybe it was some trick handed down by Mandalorian hunters, a voice used to convince his quarry to give themselves up, to coax them into coming willingly. 

You know, just like I’m about to… 

No. If he wanted her dead, he would have left her in the rubble. She was a needless complication. She knew his secret—that he was guarding a child so valuable Black Sun’s most loyal lieutenants had broken their chain of command, risked torture and hideous death, to capture him. 

Instead, he had stayed to save her.

The Mandalorian looked down at her upturned face. Pressed against his chest, she could feel him holding his breath in anticipation.

“I had to stop them from hurting the people under my protection,” he said evenly. Then, he nodded toward the slow trickle of blood dripping from her shoulder onto the floor. “Guess I wasn’t entirely successful.” 

What did he mean by that? Surely he didn’t mean her? She barely knew the man. And yet he had stayed and rescued her. I know almost nothing about him. But I feel like I know who he is down to the very marrow of his bones. 

“What happened to the kids? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, they’re hiding out at the tea shop down the street.” 

“Oh, that’s good. Madame Otessa is trustworthy. They should be safe.”

“I know. That’s why I sent them there.”

She laughed, “Aren’t you full of surprises?”  

“I’ll take that as a compliment since you sound pleased.”

“Yes. I am pleasantly surprised you didn’t leave me here to burn to death.”

“You saved my life. Honored my Creed. I make it a point to repay my debts.” 

Right. He feels duty bound to me. This was about honor and debts. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. Yet she found she did not mind being bound to the Mandalorian, whatever his reasons. 

Some people took offense at being saved. Thulani had been a healer long enough to know that some people had an extreme dislike of needing anything from anyone. Even if that person was not capable of reattaching their own retina, for example, they seemed to resent her as though it was a personal insult. As though her help only proved they could not restore the sight in their eye through sheer force of will. 

She was a healer. She did not expect gratitude. But she was nonetheless touched by the Mandalorian’s respect and admiration. 

“We should get out of here,” he said urgently.

“In the compartment where I hid Nito and the baby…there’s a bag. I’ll need it for what comes next.”

“And what happens next?” The hunter sounded deeply concerned about her answer.

“You’ll let me leave Madame Otessa’s Peony Pavillion to flee for my life?”

She had to get out of Dorumaa. Run for the next city, planet, quadrant, whatever it might be—because whoever had told Gwynn and Juss where to find the Mandalorian was not going to let her live.

His helmet tilted. “Respectfully, I think your odds of survival are better if you stay with me.”

The words echoed inside her mind. Stay with me. They promised safety. She knew that he was only helping her out of a sense of duty, and yet all she wanted was to believe in that promise. It had been so long since she felt safe. Not since that night, when the Queensguard had dragged her family out of their beds and forced them to watch while they executed every member of the Baqri household. 

Then her parents had been taken, and there was no one left to protect her. In the years that followed, though there were many times she prayed for it, no one had ever saved her.

So, while Thulani had every reason to harden her heart, she did not resent being rescued. She leaned into his warmth and found comfort in the strength of his arms, and she was not at all embarrassed to have needed it. 

“You’ll…help me?”

“Yes,” he said. “But I should warn you. I can get you out, but I can’t promise what I'm getting you into.” 

Thulani knew on some level that she should be worried he would turn on her. She found she couldn’t imagine it. Gods above, she trusted him. Her body trusted him. She had seen him burn Gwynn alive. She had heard the sickening crack of bone when he had snapped a man’s neck. Yet she was dead weight in his arms. There was nothing in her muscles or her skin or her nerves that told her she was in danger.

“That’s okay. There's nothing for me here anymore...and I don't want to be alone.”

The Mandalorian carried her away from the shattered windows. She felt his weight shift and put her arms around his neck for balance.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

___________________

Continue reading Volume 4 - Post #2: Gray Area

[theladyofbloodshed]

A Court of Tangled Flames - Chapter 31

Sorry it's been a bit of a wait, but I hope this chapter is worth it!

There were aches in places that Nesta did not even know she had muscles. Her throat was parched. Strangely, she had woken in a bed beside Eris. The last thing she remembered was trying to keep her eyes open in the chair next to his bed in Orla’s.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Faintly, if she strained her mind, Nesta could remember flashes of silver then red. The barking of the smoke hounds. Shadows covering her.

Nesta stretched her hand across the gap between the beds to take hold of her husband’s. It was pleasantly warm although Eris remained deep in sleep. That was for the best. His body needed to heal from whatever creature had been set upon him in the Prison.

At the sound of her easing from the sheets, one of the dogs raised their heads. Firo dragged his belly across the floor then came to Nesta for a fuss. ‘You’re still looking after us. Good boy. Stay here with papa.’

Nesta never knew if the dogs understood her, but still she spoke to them. Often, she narrated everything she did to Safera.

Her tired legs carried her towards the kitchen.

‘-suspected it for a while.’

‘What does it mean? Sentient. Aren’t my shadows?’

At the sound of Azriel’s voice seeping from the kitchen, Nesta stilled. Why was he inside with Orla? Her brows pinched as she continued listening into their conversation.

‘Your shadows are shadows that you sing to. The clue is in the fucking name.’

‘Niamh, shh. Magic should not have its own thoughts. It should not react without an order or its master’s will.’ She heard Orla exhale then set something down on the table. ‘It means-’

‘That we are in big fucking trouble if Nesta ever loses control of it.’

‘Eris seems to have a way to soothe it,’ replied the healer to her sister.

‘And if Eris pisses her off and her magic decides it wants rid of him? You should be counting your stars that Nesta has not killed you or your precious court yet, Az.’

It was jarring to hear Niamh call him that. They weren’t friends. That was probably why she did call him that way. Nesta was ready to blow the door open and charge in there like a hurricane. She hated people talking about her. But something must have happened last night that she didn’t understand. The reason why her body was so sore and exhausted today.

She quietly stepped back down the corridor then made a show of stomping and clearing her throat to announce her arrival.

At the opening of the door, their conversation suddenly veered course.

‘Can bats fly in the daylight, Azriel?’

‘Yes. Actual bats are nocturnal. If you are referring to me-’

‘I am.’

‘-then yes.’

Niamh drummed her finger on the table. ‘Why is the Night Court not permanently in a state of night?’

‘I do not know.’

‘Good morning, Nesta. As your overbearing healer, it is my duty to feed you and check you over,’ said Orla as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder to lead her into a chair.  

A refreshing flurry of magic tickled Nesta’s skin as Orla examined her then toast was thrust into her hands. She took a bite and forced it down. ‘I don’t know what happened last night.’

Niamh’s eyes went to Azriel. His, in turn, flickered to Orla, passing the duty of truth onto her. ‘Your magic erupted last night. Nobody was hurt – except the curtains which really were ghastly – so do not worry. We’re just glad you’re alright.’

‘That’s it? My magic erupted and no harm done.’ Her lips puckered. ‘That shouldn’t happen, should it?’

‘It has happened before, after you scried,’ Azriel reminded her.

That time, her magic had seized control of her body. Not even Rhys was able to subdue it until Cassian intervened, giving it a momentary pause. Nesta built a bridge over her worry rather than drowning in it then continued nibbling at her breakfast.

‘Most people have flowers as a centrepiece,’ she said between mouthfuls then jerked her chin towards the Harp that sat in the middle of the table.

‘We weren’t sure what to do with it,’ Orla admitted.

At that moment, Niamh chose to stand and declare she would go and check on Emerie in Windhaven. Azriel stood too, saying he’d ensure Gwyn was safe – but reassured Nesta that the library would always be safe. She neglected to reply that no, it wasn’t. Her and Feyre had been attacked there. Then the shadowsinger did something that surprised Nesta. He leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

‘You scared me last night,’ he murmured. ‘I worry for you, even if you’re not a part of my court. You’re still a friend.’

At the sounds of the door opening and closing, Eris was roused from his bed. He still pressed his palm to the stitches of his stomach so Orla demanded he remove his shirt so she could inspect it there and then.

‘Let me at least kiss my wife first,’ he’d replied, words still slurred.

The tight set of his jaw suggested to Nesta that Eris was still in a great deal of pain. That did not stop him from wrapping his arms around her to kiss her softly. The slash across his stomach was puckered and red, making Orla frown as she examined it.

‘It is healing, but slowly. Slower than I would like.’

While Eris forced down small bites of toast, he leant back in the chair so that Orla could clean the wound properly. Again, she had opted for mortal remedies, claiming there was merit in learning them. It made Eris wince and groan then he had a telling off that he was worse than a babe.

‘The last time you were stabbed in the stomach, you didn’t make this much noise.’

‘That’s because I didn’t have a wife to fuss over me,’ he winked.

The storm cloud was coming for Eris. Not that he knew. Her darling husband kept meticulous notes on her training in his preferred shorthand that was decipherable to most. Eris would have known if her magic was sentient. He’d have figured it out long ago.

They had spent too long away from the Forest House. Their absence would be noted. They dressed quickly then Nesta winnowed them to the cottage where the Harp would be stored. It took a lot out of Eris to ward it. She could see the exhaustion etching into his features as his magic wrapped around the cottage. It was her magic that winnowed them to the massive gates of the Forest House. Eris extended his arm for her to take as they crossed the paths, but his weight rested on her, breaths came out laboured. The stifling corridors were silent though not empty. Servants knew to scurry from their paths as if they were cats and all the servants were mice. Nesta hated the atmosphere of fear that Beron cultivated. He thrived from it. Dominating his children, his wife, his followers. They would not follow Beron if they had any other choice.

Once back in their room, Cotton-tail scurried towards them. She scooped the rabbit against her chest and kissed the spot between his eyes.

Eris slumped against a couch, exhaling loudly.

‘You should have rested longer at Orla’s. You aren’t well enough to be up.’

Eris grimaced as he swallowed. ‘Time moves quicker in the Autumn Court. You can never leave the Forest House for long. There’s always somebody waiting in the shadows to claw at your place.’

Nesta refused to let the storm come. Her husband had proved his love over and over. She held back the clouds, the thunder that should have rippled through her as anger squeezed her heart. Instead, Nesta knelt on the ground to remove Eris’ shoes then pulled a blanket around him. She knew him well enough to know that he would not lay idle. He would have a stack of paperwork to plough through, plots for the Harp to undertake. First, she had to be sure.

‘My magic is sentient, isn’t it?’

His jaw clenched together. ‘How do you know?’

No denial.

She perched on the narrow strip of the couch beside Eris and pushed back a tuft of his hair. ‘I overheard them talking this morning. My magic decided to put on a show last night, it seems.’

Eris dipped his chin, anticipating her words to pelt him. When Nesta did not berate him, he continued, ‘I wasn’t sure for a long time.’

Even now, Nesta could feel it purring in her chest, knowing it was being talked about.

On the shelf, Nesta retrieved a book bound in dark green leather at Eris’ request and he untangled the code, reading his observations to her.

Moves independently of will. Like calls to like. Responds in kind to flame. Developed a bond with N. More than death. Winnowing? Never wanes. Transformative? 

It was uncomfortable to listen to another’s observation of her magic, but Eris had spent the most time with it – seen her use it every day under his encouragement. It was only his observation, not an opinion of it, of her. He had never acted differently towards her as a result of his suspicions.  

‘I know that I should have told you sooner, but you were not in a place to hear the news when I realised. You are no longer afraid of your magic. I didn’t know how it would react if you knew and were scared to use it.’

‘It can hear you,’ she replied. ‘It’s always listening.’

‘Hello,’ Eris said. He continued, ‘I am sorry I haven’t told you. I’m a coward for not finding the moment to do it. You have so much on your shoulders. You always have. I didn’t want to add more, but it wasn’t my place to decide if you deserved to know.’

‘It changes nothing. It is how it has always been.’

Since she was saddled with it, she thought. Her magic was a living, breathing thing, stolen from the Cauldron in her rage. As long as she used her magic regularly, ensured it was given a run out, then it would bend to her will. Her magic might have its own will, but hers was made of steel. She was formidable in her own right.

‘Rest.’

A kiss was pressed to Eris’ temple.

‘You know I won’t – not with your safety on the line.’

For hours, they lay on the couch together, nuzzling for warmth while Eris finished reading reports. He had some accounts gathered from across Prythian from ancient texts about Koschei and the trove. His attitude was that the more knowledge, the better. She couldn’t help but marvel at him. The threat of Briallyn should have been a maelstrom that Nesta could not outrun, but with Eris as her husband, she knew they would weather it. He would find a way, as he always did, to take care of her.

‘I love you.’

If Eris had not been still so unwell, then he might have taken her there on the couch. Instead, he scooped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in close. ‘I’m so proud of you. For everything.’ The pad of his thumb stroked against her cheekbone. ‘Do you want to talk about yesterday?’

The events of the Prison still had no landed because Nesta would not let them. She could not think of the golden-haired male who had promised her universes to conquer, not of the fact that she might have said yes before Eris had intervened. If he knew how close she had been to accepting the immortal’s offer, he might look at her differently.

Instead, Nesta drew Eris a warm bath and had servants bring them a bite to eat. She pressed chunks of cheese and apple into mouth as his head rested against the edge of the bath with his eyes closed. In a quiet, unsure voice, Nesta recounted what had happened when she had passed through the wall into the empty chamber.

Eris forced his eyes open. ‘I am trying not to get too excited but it sounds like the lost Dawn Court could have once been there.’

‘Do tell me more.’

‘I would love a willing audience to my theories, my darling, but I am too exhausted to move my jaw.’

‘Another day then,’ she murmured. Nesta swept a flannel through the water then began washing his beautiful body. The lean muscles of his body did not intimidate Nesta. It was nice to know that Eris could fight with words as well as weapons too.

She dabbed at his face and Eris made a low hum of relief.

‘I worried for you down there with Cassian.’

‘Did you think he would try to finish me off?’

The thought did not bear thinking about. A potential Blood Duel had swirled around in Nesta’s mind a few times as she pondered what lengths Cassian might go to in his goal of dragging her back to the Night Court. She knew that long ago Cassian had stabbed Eris in the gut when Feyre escaped the Spring Court. He would probably like the chance again.

‘If he ever hurt you, I would hate him for the rest of my eternal life.’

Eris cocked an eye open again. ‘Why must you make such devoted declarations? My body is too ruined to enjoy my wife thoroughly today, but these statements make me want to pluck out my stitches and be damned.’

She stroked a finger down his nose. ‘We have time. We have the rest of our lives to enjoy each other.’

At that, Eris gave a sigh of content. Soft lips curved into one of his rare, unguarded smiles. ‘Would you like to be High Lady one day? To be on equal footing with your sister?’

Nesta flicked water towards him. ‘Certainly not. Being your wife is enough.’

‘Queen of queens then?’

At the sight of his smirk, Nesta contemplated drowning him.

Whilst they were languishing on the bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms enjoying a thoroughly deserved lazy day, a servant summoned them for dinner. It was a chance for Beron to dominate and intimidate. He reminded Nesta of a petulant boy from her human village who used to burn ants or cut worms with a spade simply to be cruel. Sometimes he threw stones at dogs or tried to throw water at cats. Nesta had once held out her foot when he ran past to trip him over.

They dressed in silence. Eris moved stiffly, pressing his hand against his abdomen after any vigorous movements. His breathing was shallow and forced out between pursed lips. When she enquired over his wellbeing, Eris simply waved it away. They had opted for dark green fabric, so dark that it was almost black, traced with golden leaves and vines. Her bodice was tight on her ribs, a sign that her body had softened since she had last worn it; she had Eris’ love and Orla’s puddings to thank for that.

The shadowed hallways of the Autumn Court remained cold and unwelcoming as they moved through them towards the large dining room. Eris struggled to pull on his mask of arrogant heir, so Nesta took that role. She plastered a sneer across her face and strode past each of Beron’s sons without a passing glance. For the high lord, she dipped her chin so slightly that it ought to have been disrespectful. There was a fine line between daring and disrespect which Beron often moved depending on how he felt that day. What was applauded one day, would be a cause of punishment the next.

Beneath the table, Nesta laced her fingers with her husband’s, squeezing them gently. He carried her through every storm. Tonight, she would return the favour.

It was a tedious, strained affair.

Xander cleared his throat during a lull in Beron’s constant stream of insults. ‘I knocked at your rooms a number of times yesterday, Eris. It appeared nobody was there.’

Nesta cut in before Eris had the chance. ‘I’m afraid your brother was busy with his wife.’

‘All day and night?’ Xander raised a brow. Beside him, Uther gave a sly grin.

‘I wish all females were as lucky as I am,’ Nesta replied, stroking the back of Eris’ neck. ‘You shall never hear me complain.’

‘And yet she is still not bred.’

Of course, Beron would not address Nesta directly. His cold, flat gaze pierced Eris. Her husband was in no place to deal with his evil father today, but a warm hand settled on Nesta’s leg, stopping her from doing battle with him.

‘Children are loathsome things.’

‘Secure an heir. Your brothers might think twice about killing you.’

What a strange life to exchange remarks about fraternal murders. Nesta had become a pariah for saying Feyre smelt. She’d never tried to murder her.

Eris shrugged then spared a single, pitying glance to his three brothers. ‘Why should I care? Their numerous attempts on myself and my wife have been pathetic. They lack creativity or ambition. The only brother worthy of my worry was exiled.’

‘Do not speak that coward’s name in my home.’

Eliška’s eyes went to her lap at the mention of her youngest. It was clever of Eris to change the course of the river from him to Lucien, but Nesta wished Lucien wasn’t used as a scapegoat. It clearly brought his mother pain.

‘I did not speak it,’ replied Eris, holding his father’s stare. ‘Merely explained that he was the only brother who had the ambition and skill to assassinate me.’

It would never not disturb Nesta that murder could be discussed so openly. This was the cutthroat Autumn Court though. She had to grow with it rather than be suffocated by it. If there had been any attempts on her life, Nesta had not realised. Eris was always a step ahead.

After dinner, the sons were to remain with their father. Nesta linked her arm with her mother-in-law’s then felt the familiar press of her magic, asking to be let inside of her head, as they marched down the silent halls.

I do not like tonight. My smokehounds have been unsettled.

Eliška’s grip on Nesta was tight enough to hurt as they wove through the warren of corridors towards the latter’s rooms.

None would harm me, but I daresay somebody might try to hurt you tonight. Eris was unwell today, wasn’t he? Others would have noticed it. Stay in your room. Keep it locked. If you do not hear from Eris tonight then I will try and send a message beyond these borders to help you.

Her mother-in-law gave one curt bow of the head then swept along the corridor, flanked by her own guards. Nesta wasted no time in hurrying inside and locking the door. She retrieved a knife then searched each room, just as Eris had taught her once. She kept her back against a wall while moving swiftly, opening cupboards and checking under the bed. All of the windows were locked. There were no signs of any movement in the room whilst they had been at dinner.

Eliška’s words echoed in her mind. If she did not hear from Eris that meant he was dead. Would Beron go that far? Maybe not, but he might encourage his sons to. Then Nesta would be alone here with no allies or protection.

She twisted her fingers in her lap, stomach churning so violently that Nesta ended up running to the bathroom to empty it.

Eris was not well. He was weak and exhausted. She could not sit here and hope he would make it back to her safely. It was her turn to battle the storm for him. Her turn to face monsters.

Not knowing entirely what she was doing, Nesta hurried through the Forest House.

‘Find Eris,’ she murmured to her magic.

It slithered out of her like great snakes that scorched the carpet in their hunt. One silver flame remained pulsing so brightly that she had to shield her eyes. That was the one to follow.

It led her down a set of stone stairs. A chill seeped from them as she descended deep into the bowels of the Forest House, into the damp cellars. Eris had once told her he’d had his first kiss in them, behind a barrel of Beron’s favourite wine.

At the sounds of pain, Nesta froze. Her shoe still hovered above a step so she gently pressed the ball of her foot down, careful not to make any sound. She called her magic back to her.

‘Again.’

It was Beron’s voice.

Then, the unmistakable sound of a whip cracking through the air and onto skin.

Another grunt of pain.

She recognised that voice too. Her husband’s.

Unable to control herself, unable to reason that this had happened many times and it would be safer for her to slip back to her rooms, Nesta surged down the stairs.

Beron stood watching, with his arms folded, displeasure painted on his features. Eris clung to a stone pillar. His shirt was discarded on the floor. Blood streaked his back and more was splattered on the floor. Phelan leaned against another pillar, face giving nothing away. Uther held the whip, but Xander was enjoying every moment too.

‘You will not touch him again.’

At the sound of Nesta’s voice, the males turned.

‘Remove yourself from this place.’ Beron’s voice was quiet but authoritative.

Nesta hated him. She hated him so much. From the neat, brown hair on his head to the polished, black boots. She hated the male.

‘You will not touch my husband ever again.’

Her own voice was ragged with pain. Her Eris, who was so strong, so fearless for her, was beaten and broken at his family’s hand for no reason except for humiliation. She would take it no more.

Strike him dead.

Magic ruptured out of her. It was a beast that would never be satisfied. It would kill and kill and kill, if Nesta allowed it.

Tonight, there was only one male she wanted dead.

Beron was flung against the wall. Her silver flames devoured him before he had a chance to fight back. He might have been a high lord, but she was the bitch who had stolen from the Cauldron.

They warped his features, stealing the last of his eternal life, until he crumpled into a rotting corpse. She had stolen his life. And she was glad for it.

A tense silence filled the cellar.

Then a guard’s voice rang out. ‘She killed the high lord. Seize her.’

Phelan was quickest. His knife slit the guard’s throat. Fire then erupted from his remaining hand to cremate the remaining guard. His screams made Nesta close her eyes, as if that might block them out.

‘We saw nothing,’ said Phelan, staring at Xander and Uther.

Eris turned from the pillar. The wounds on his back sealed themselves. A faint, shimmer of gold bled over his skin instead as high lord’s magic seeped into his veins.

Phelan dropped to one knee then bent his head. ‘I swear myself to you, High Lord.’

Eris raked a knife over Phelan’s palm, accepting his blood as his vow. Then his amber eyes turned to his remaining brothers. ‘And you? Do you stand with me or against me?’

Both males followed Phelan’s example, bending to the ground and holding out their hand for Eris to accept their vow.

‘Eris Vanserra. High Lord of the Autumn Court.’

Taglist: @owllover123 @rarephloxes @fanboy7794 @sugardoll22 @kitkat-writes-stuff @this-is-rochelle @sv0430 @embersofwildfire

[blackjackkent]

OK, let's set fire to this portrait.

Whoosh.

I love that the Sage background basically means I get points for being Smart.

The lady that came out of the painting is NOT happy about the situation:

"Oskar! Where is he? WHERE IS HE?!"

She vanishes in a poof of smoke and the quest updates:

Great.

Back down to Jannath and unconscious Oskar, where things are going down:

OK, so this looks bad. The good news is Jannath is not dead (hooray!), but the bad news is that she is very unconscious and the ghost lady is stark raving mad.

"Who are you?" she screams as Hector enters the room. "Get out. GET OUT!!"

Oskar is conscious again and looks like absolute hells, pale and exhausted. "Please... Kerri, my darling, listen to me..."

She rounds on him and screams louder. "You brought me here. YOU DID THIS!" She stabs a finger in Hector's direction without looking at him. "Do not interfere. HE'S COMING HOME WITH ME!"

Hector's eyes flick rapidly around the room, taking in the situation, trying to parse it out, sifting through his memory for anything that might be helpful in talking this ghost down, anything from any book or bit of study back at the monastery. There were many discussions of possessions, certainly, and of the spirit plane in general - but that was a bailiwick more of the clerics than the monks.

Hector has academic knowledge of a cleric's role in such a situation, of course. But no practical experience. And in the end... what he turns to is no defined practice, but simple compassion.

[CLERIC OF SELUNE] "Listen," he says haltingly. "You're lost and in pain. This plane is not meant for spirits..."

"Another one who wants to control me!" she roars. "He called me here, trapped me! Pathetic little childish boy!"

"I only wished to *explain* myself," Oskar mumbles. "To make you see how--"

"No! Enough of your whining! ENOUGH!" the ghost snarls. "Selfish, arrogant bastard of an artist! I wanted to be left in peace!"

Hector grimaces. The picture is starting to come together and he isn't sure he likes what he sees. Oskar, from love or pride, has made an incredibly foolish series of decisions, and this girl's spirit is being tormented as a result.

"Please," he says softly. "Tell us what happened to you."

"And how does that help me?" she sneers. "Or is it just to help HIM?!" Her voice lifts in a bellow that shakes the rafters. "Why does everything always have to revolve around OSKAR FEVRAS?"

"Oh, my sweet Kerri," Oskar whimpers, flinching back from her. "What did I do to you?"

"Save your tears for the Ethereal Plane," she hisses.

Hector considers his words carefully. This situation is hanging on a knife's edge; if he says the wrong thing, this ghost is clearly very capable of hauling Oskar off into the plane of spirits, never to be seen again. And yet... he suspects that this is some twisted, darker version of the soul Oskar wanted to reach, corrupted by its passage to this plane where it is not meant to live.

And some of that soul might still be reachable...

[MONK][PERSUASION] "Ask yourself," he says, still soft, soothing, "will killing this man make you happy? Give you purpose? Or are you better than this?"

The spirit's scowl flickers into an expression of puzzlement. "What are you saying?" she mutters. "You're trying to-- confuse me. It's so hard to think... I don't remember..." She trails off.

Oskar steps hastily into the silence. "Kerry... my sweetmeat..." he wheedles placatingly. "I just need to know that what you did... that it wasn't my fault..."

The girl's expression is growing agitated, fearful. "Why am I here?" she cries. "I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be!"

Narrator: The spirit's aura flickers, changes. She is confused, lost - dragged here unwillingly by a man who refused to let her leave.

Hector shoots Oskar a sudden tight scowl; the disapproval in his expression makes the artist flinch back again and think better of whatever he was going to say next. It's clear to him now that the spirit is trapped here by some bond with Oskar, and until the air is cleared between them, she will not be able to return to a peaceful sleep.

When he is certain Oskar isn't going to interrupt, Hector turns his attention back to the ghost, and speaks with a gentle tone, reaching out towards her with the tips of his fingers. [MONK][PERSUASION] "Oskar does not matter," he says firmly. "You do. Say what you need to say to him, no matter how difficult it is."

The girl's lip curls. Her voice is softer now, but colder too. "Fine. If Oskar wants the truth, he can have it." She turns, snarls in the artist's direction. "We were a FLING, nothing more! My decision had nothing to do with him! I did this because I was so FUCKING sad! All the time!"

Hector's eyes widen as he parses the meaning behind this, but she's still talking. "Oskar finds it easier to imagine a world where women kill themselves over him than one where they have their own bloody problems."

Gods. A chill runs through Hector again, this time mixed with deep grief on the girl's behalf. She killed herself, and Oskar has dragged her back from the grave to reassure him.

"I'm sorry, Kerri," Oskar whispers. "I had no idea..." A pause, then, hastily, hopefully, "But I-- I was truly not to blame?"

The look Hector gives him could melt glass. You selfish prick... he thinks fiercely. Do you not see the misery you've caused?!

The ghost speaks before Hector can. "No. You weren't. So you and your poxy paintings stay away from me. We're done, Oskar. Over. Now let me rest in bloody peace."

-----

She vanishes into the ether, leaving all of them rather shaken.

Lady Jannath is slowly coming back to consciousness on the floor. Normally Hector would go to help her up, but he is still seething over Oskar's behavior and selfishness.

"Gods, what a mess I've made of it all," Oskar says piteously as his wife reaches her feet. "My sweet Fireliia... I've been a rotten fool, haven't I? And yet you never left my side..."

Hector fully expects the lady to give him a chewing out, but she just smiles at him with visible relief. "It will take more than a ghost to scare me away," she says. "Though I wish you'd come to me sooner."

"That's it?" Hector says, baffled. "You're just going to forgive him?"

"I'm no fool," Jannath says, reaching out and taking the artist's hand. "I know Oskar loved another when we met. But when we made our vows, I meant them."

"Throughout my ordeal, I saw how tenderly you cared for me," Oskar says, his voice heavy with emotion - or perhaps with drama. "Even at my worst, you never left my side. Truly, you were the one who saved me. I'm so sorry, my darling."

Perhaps Hector has simply had a long day, or perhaps the string of terrible problems he's had to solve is starting to wear on him, but he finds he is having trouble stomaching this. Complete ignorance of the revelation about the girl and her suffering, the self-righteous falling into Jannath's arms, the brushing aside of Hector's own contribution...

"Jannath deserves more than an apology for what you put her through," he says tightly. And Kerri even more of one. My gods... she killed herself, and all you could think of was your own peace of mind...

"A debt I'll spend a lifetime repaying," Oskar says gravely. Perhaps registering Hector's disdain, he turns to the monk with a wide smile. "As for you, my noble friend," he says brightly. "Our account can be settled far more quickly. Come upstairs to my atelier. I promise you'll leave with something priceless. Immortality!"

------

Hector watches the artist trot out of the room, his wife behind him, and realizes that he is clenching his jaw tightly enough to ache.

"You all right, Hec?" Karlach asks with some concern. "I thought you were going to deck him for a moment there."

"I was considering it," Hector says bitterly. A slight pause. "I was just considering the utter unfairness of the world, that this blistering, selfish, egotistical prick will have a long life together with his beloved, and I--"

He cuts himself off sharply but not quite soon enough; Karlach's head snaps back as if dodging a physical blow. "Yeah," is all she says, quiet, weary, sad. "Yeah, I know."

Hector lets out a heavy breath, reaches out and takes her hand and squeezes it. "Let's go see what prize he thinks is worth our while..." he mutters.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I headcanon Gale as the type of husband who listens to his Maureen off hand musings in terms of the clothes she finds beautiful, or the house decor or any other trinkets that she fell in love in while travelling and just surprising her with them months after she said something, turning her all mushy and making her gloat what a good and lovely man she snatched (and he maybe gives her those things after he fucks up a little bit 😂)

Oh this is so true. And this is one reason I love them because, I feel she remains impulsive in her love so she often acts on it right when she feels it -which he loves, as this rather doubtful man needs it bonked over his head with immediate cause and effect to really absorb that he’s loved.

But she’s also not a complete yapper, she’s got this soothing, slightly husky voice that narrates his life and for a man who both enjoys not having to talk but also hates only hearing his thoughts, it’s the best of both.

And he is the husband who listens.

Always listening that man. And totally would show up with what she admired weeks or months later and because that’s not what she herself is capable of doing, it strikes her all the more as just a sign of how thoughtful and measured and thorough he is in his love for her and she 100% knows she got the best of that bargain

[again-please]

Ooh I'll bite on the 500 word DVD commentary! My all time fav scene in the Mercurial world series:

 

Neve lets her mind’s eye fill with a particular image: Astarion in the daylight, bowing cheekily and brushing himself off from their tussle moments after they’d first met, slick and debonair even fresh from the wreckage of the Mindflayer ship. Then, hardly knowing how she even knows she can do this, she pushes it at him.

 

"What are you—" he murmurs, and then abruptly cuts himself off with a gasp.

 

It must be working, as his eyes have gone wide as saucers, fixed not on her face but somewhere just beyond. Focusing, she conjures another memory: Astarion’s pale features cast in jewel-blue, looking down at her in the moonlight, the merry glow of the tiefling party in the distance behind him as he takes her chin in his hand. I’ll take good care of you, he promises, with one of those dangerous, glinting smiles that tilts up on one side, looking for all the world like he’s going to kiss her again.

 

"I—You—" Astarion chokes, sounding almost pained. All at once the effort to keep it going is too much, and Neve relinquishes the connection between their tadpoles, pressing one hand to her forehead and gripping the side of the tub with the other, suddenly a little weak.

 

"Did it work?" she asks, blinking rapidly, trying to regain herself. "Did you see?"

 

"Yes," Astarion gasps, surging forward and seizing her upper arms desperately—which is quite welcome, as she suddenly feels that she could use the support. His eyes are wild as they search her face, his mouth looking as though it’s trying to form words until he finally manages some.

 

"Insane, brilliant little witch," Astarion snarls, almost like he’s angry about it—furious, even. But then he kisses her. Hard.

 

Neve almost yelps, finding herself being abruptly pulled into his naked lap, water splashing over the sides of the tub at his erratic movement. He releases her upper arms to help arrange her legs around his hips, still ravaging her mouth, and she tries to steady herself on his chest, her head now swimming for two reasons. She smooths her hands over his wet skin, and to her surprise, he hums into her mouth and slows the pace of his kiss, as if the touch soothed something in him. His hand trails up her back and threads into her hair as it cups the back of her head, his usually cool skin warmed by the water. Goosebumps erupt in the wake of his touch, so intense that she shivers.

 

Astarion finally pulls away at that, but he doesn’t go far. He rests his forehead against hers, eyes still shut tightly, as though he’s afraid to look at her in the aftermath of that reaction.

 

"Liked yourself that much?" she jokes nervously.

 

"Do you have the slightest idea?" he murmurs, voice ragged, not playing along. "The slightest notion of what you’ve given me? Two hundred years—two hundred—and I finally have my face back. It’s not just…just some dark shape in my past

Ty for biting! (...a common sentiment on this blog I fear)

This is a moment I can actually trace my exact inspiration for because I can remember the friggin DAY I got the "tell me I'm beautiful" mirror scene in early access and I was simply screaming at the computer screen because WE HAVE A PSYCHIC CONNECTION GOD DAMN IT LET ME SHOW HIM HIS FACE. Especially because many of the tadpole-connection meet-cute narrations explicitly say you're seeing out of the other character's eyes! And if memory serves this was the first? one of the first? Astarion cutscenes to drop in EA where he seemed legitimately vulnerable for a moment, which was a very important nugget for us Astarionmancers because around this time I think there was talk about how he was just an asshole no matter what and that there was obviously ONLY a Bad Evil Ending in store for him.

I think this is Neve at some of her best "you guys are making this way too complicated" problem-solving. She is definitely a Scholar and a Wizard, but I think the real beauty of her character and her situation is that she doesn't come from any kind of remotely respectable academic background, as we'll start to explore more, and so she comes at problems a lot more humbly and practically than might be thought to be common for wizards. She is the Good-Will-Hunting-working-class-local-library wizard to Gale's Harvard-Educated wizard (except in this scenario she's the one still on the hook for an exorbitant amount of money...RIP her credit score).

A fundamental Astarion/Neve dynamic is definitely his "mask" of suaveness that he never wants to drop (unstoppable force) vs Neve being almost legitimately incapable of not being herself (immovable object). In this scene, immovable object DEFINITELY wins.

The "jewel-blue moonlight" image of Astarion she recalls scene is from chapter 2 of A Little Further, and I come back to this moment a lot because, in spite of where Astarion is at that point in time (aka, still foolishly thinking he's just having a bit of fun for his own benefit), that's a moment Neve feels swept off her feet for the first time in a way she was really afraid that she would die without experiencing. And a part of her knows he's being Way Too Smooth there, but she also thinks that's something he'd like to see—the time it was all working for him, the time he was so perfect that even a self-conscious skeptic like her couldn't say no to him

This scene also becomes extremely important when we examine what she shares with him later from Astarion's POV—she didn't just send images through the tadpole connection, but the feelings she was feeling in those moments. And while he doesn't literally hear the words "I love you," in her mind or anything, I think it kind of ruins him forever to feel that sheer BLAST of genuine attraction and care and affection direct from the source. Sometimes I'm like, did he fall in love too fast? But honestly, it's kind of no surprise he's done for after this point. Psychic connections are cheat codes.

I just checked—this is also the first time I have Astarion call her "witch/little witch." I think this would kind of irk Neve if he ever said it in front of anyone else (because she is a WIZARD god damn it) but he gets away with it because this is...a name that absolutely does NOT get said aloud outside the bedroom.

DVD commentary ask game if you want to bite as well!

[aleshimbobimbo]

Make Your Heart Beat Stronger - Part 2

Rotxo x Medic in Training!Metkayina!GN!Reader Angst Series

Description: Reader keeps dreaming of the past (some extra stuff is added from a narrator’s pov in the dream)

Timeline: its currently been a month since part 1, and the Sully’s have arrived. The dream is a memory from when reader was 11, Ao’nung and Rotxo were 12, and Tsireya was 10

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: pain tbh, nightmares

Word Count: 626

Word translations: Tsahìk=clan official medic, typically the leader’s significant other, communicates with Eywa and interprets her will

Olo’eyktan: clan leader

Eyktan: future clan leader

Tsakarem: tsahìk in training

Puawai ngakau: this one does not appear in the Na’vi language, it is Māori (I used google translate so the meaning might be wrong) but it should mean heart flower

Tsireya, Ao’nung, Rotxo, and you had followed Tsahìk as she picked herbs, amazed at the way she moved without hesitation. Picking herbs and setting them in her basket, sometimes one you didn’t recognize and somehow she always knew.

“This one is to soothe sore muscles,” she would speak something like that every couple of minutes.

“Lady Ronal, I know we use this one a lot, but what does it actually do?” You asked.

“Ah, the puawai ngakau, it is for your heart, it makes your heart stronger. Some also consider it good luck for you and your mate. Your heart holds all of your love, so when your heart is stronger, so is your love.” She smiled while speaking, it was so sweet.

Rotxo finally spoke, having been goofing off with Ao’nung the entire time. “One day, I’ll make you my mate and I’ll make sure we have a marui covered in puawai ngakau so that our love will be stronger than anything else in the world. I promise.” His eyes shined with determination, a confident smile spreading on his face.

“I think I’d like that,” you whispered under your breath, but Rotxo heard you. He always heard you actually. He always saw you too. And he loved it all. He loved seeing you scrunch your face in disgust at a food you didn’t like, he loved hearing you mumble plant names and properties to yourself trying to memorize them, he loved seeing you pet the Ilu in the middle of the night when you were meant to be sleeping, he loved seeing your face brighten when you saw your favorite flower— because yes, he did know what your favorite flower was too.

“Ewww gross man” Ao’nung practically squealed. “Keep that love stuff to yourself” he said as he fake gagged. You and Tsireya laughed at how ridiculously dramatic the Eyktan was being, and Rotxo swore he felt his heart stop for a moment.

You awake in a cold sweat, this is probably the sixth time you’ve had that dream since Rotxo had tried to ask you out. Each dream seems to get longer, showing you more of that day. Tears roll down your face, anger at yourself for only now remembering his promise. He loved you. And you were so hateful.

You haven’t even seen him since that day, anytime you did was when he was helping the newcomers adjust to this life. Usually at that point you were working with Lady Ronal, and besides you couldn’t just try to talk to him about that in front of everybody. Looking out at the moon, you sigh. You don’t have to be up right now, you should savor your precious moments of rest.

But the thought of having that dream again, it scared you. Your regret only builds each time you have that dream, honestly at this point it’s more like a nightmare. So instead, you get up. Shoving yourself on your feet, you begin to walk to your favorite spot. It’s a small clearing with your favorite flower decorating it, and hidden well enough that almost nobody knew of this peaceful place. You finally sat, hugging your legs to your chest as you get lost in your thoughts again.

By the time you snap out of it, the sun has begun shining. “—— WHERE ARE YOU?!” Tsireya called. Have people been looking for you? How long has it been?

“I’m over here!” You call back, voice scratchy. As Tsireya walks into view, you can see the concern written on her face.

“What have you been doing?!” She questions, starting to rant. Thinking back to what had led you here, you seem to stare right through her. Like she wasn’t even there.

“Reya.. I messed up..”

———————————————

Author’s Note: y’all Rotxo is quite literally forcing himself into my heart. I was not a Rotxo simp until Ale requested this fic and the more I see him the more I love him :)) I’ve already got some ideas planned for part 3!! Was working hard on this so that I could ignore my math homework 🫡 that’s why it’s completed so quickly. Also you can request to be added to a taglist in the comments. Also probably gonna post this later cause its almost midnight for me right now and I

Tag list: @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @edasow @effervescentalessia

[neothesatisfactory]

About myself

and this blog

or something idfk

I guess it's about time I make a pinned post about myself, my preferences, this blog, tags i use, what to expect from me, and more, but I don't even know what all to include so this will likely be revised many many times. So please, bear with me.

Display your age if you want, I'm not entitled to that info. I will simply block if I find out you're underage. Nothing personal, sorry :/

While I'd love to make my blog a safe place for minors on this site, since I personally know what it's like to be a minor who has nowhere to go IRL or online, and that's a really shitty situation to be stuck in. Unfortunately though, I simply don't have the energy or working memory functionality to create an alt blog specifically for nsfw posts and actually use it, so, please see above.

Info about myself, my DNI policy, and tags I use below the break:

Myself:

I use she/her pronouns

I go by the alias Neo

I am queer friendly! I am always doing what I can to learn about the various problems faced by various peoples within our community so I can better understand, help, and provide acceptance and comfort for everyone!

I try to keep an open mind. So long as myself (and when applicable, individuals or communities I affiliate with) are treated respectfully, I will do my best to listen to and understand someone else's perspective on a given topic.

I love helping people any way I can to the best of my ability within my boundaries. Recently this has mostly been in the form of long heartfelt discussion with validation, affirmation, and when needed or requested: advice; but I've also recently been told by some that my instrumental and singing abilities really helped them. (Catharsis through music I think?)

Some of my Interests include but definitely are not limited to: Photography, music production, archeology, anthropology, vehicles of all kinds, aeronautical engineering, 3d modeling, and chemistry.

I have a complicated relationship with my own voice. I am both very proud of it and feel a tinge of guilt when complimented on it.

I'm gonna flex a bit about my voice anyway: The most common compliment I get is on my voice, which I am very proud of as I had to train it to sound this way. – Many people, friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers have told me things such as: "Your voice is so soothing", "Your voice is perfect", "You have a very relaxing voice", "You sound like a voice actor for a milf in an anime" (one of the most unique ones), "you sound like a voice actor"/"you should be a voice actor", "can/will you read me bedtime stories?"/"I want you to read me a bedtime story"/"you seem like you're really good at reading bedtime stories"/etc., "Your voice is really hot", and "you should be an audiobook narrator". (I promise I'm not full of myself T^T, these are genuinely things people have said to me over the past couple years).

I am in fact working towards getting into voice acting, audiobook narration, and music production. Currently I am trying to save up for a new sound setup, but car issues suck and are expensive :(

My favourite pick-up line is: *while playing the piano, after the receiver of the line comments on my piano playing* "Look, I've been playing the piano for over a decade. One tends to get pretty good at fingering in that time~" sometimes with something like "and if you play your cards right, it won't just be the keys I finger tonight" added onto the end.

My DNI policy:

I don't believe in DNI's, I will simply block who I please as I please

Important tags I use:

For brevity, the word "posts" will refer to posts, reblogs, and replies.

#neo.master – Master post/Master list – Used on posts containing important information or directories on something. Used for personal reference, you can ignore this one.

#neo.txt – For self-written text posts – Used on posts that have text written by myself. This is used when I myself am speaking.

#neo.png – Contains oc images – Used on posts containing a picture that was taken/created by myself or by a friend of mine, with their permission.

#neo.mp4 – Contains oc video – Used on posts containing a video that was taken/created by myself or by a friend of mine, with their permission.

#neo.irl – "Neo (dot) in real life" – Used in conjunction with +neo.png and/or +neo.webm when the image or video was taken IRL.

#neo.ivr – "Neo (dot) in virtual reality" – Used in conjunction with +neo.png and/or +neo.webm when the picture or video was taken virtually. (E g. a screenshot/screenrecording of a game/application, or photo/video taken with an in-game/in-application virtual camera.)

#neo.slf – Contains a selfie – Used in conjunction with any or multiple of the above four tags, and on any post that contains an image or video in which myself (if IRL) or my avatar (if IVR) is present.

#neo.poll – Contains an oc poll – Used on posts containing a tumblr poll created by me.

#hornyposting, #hornypost, #horny, #nsfw, #nsft – These are all used on posts containing nsfw or otherwise horny content, and are used largely interchangeably. I'm trying to use them more often for your blacklisting convenience :)

Multiple of these will likely be used on the same posts when applicable.

(Note: Currently, some of these tags aren't actually used on any of my posts yet. This list is a reminder/framework for when I do make a particular post, as well as a list of tags I actually use)