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vaxieth · 7 months

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because something really did ask, have a much too long post about my thoughts on laudna’s individual dynamics with the rest of bells hells.

under the cut because it’s almost 3000 words.

laudna/imogen

i struggle to find something to say about imogen and laudna that hasn’t already been said a million times before. the core concept—the thesis—of their arcs, together and separately, is choice. so much of their backstories are defined by helplessness. laudna was chosen and killed because she happened to look like someone else, she was resurrected because she happened to be there. imogen’s mother left, she was burdened with powers she didn’t understand and meant constant pain and isolation. so, they make sure to constantly emphasize that the other person has a choice in everything. imogen tells laudna she only has to come back if she wants to, even though it would have devastated her to lose laudna forever. laudna tells imogen that the gods can’t control her, that no matter what her “destiny” is, if she wants, they can leave and live in a little cottage and raise horses together. the way they love each other unconditionally is all the more incredible given how cruel the world was to them for so long. laudna’s “you make me better” is true for both of them. they give each other a place to be vulnerable and feel all their messiest, worst feelings because they know the other one won’t judge them. they’ll support each other no matter the choices they make.

something i’ve mentioned quite a few times but never gone in depth about is that imogen and laudna do have a fairly significant age difference, and i do think that affects their dynamic. on the one hand, they both have a bit of arrested development—imogen due to her isolation from the rest of gelvaan from 18-26, laudna because she died at 20. on the other, laudna has so much more life experience than imogen. she spent almost 30 years traveling and interacting with the world even if was mostly people trying to kill her, maybe even because of that. the “laudna is imogen’s aunt/mother/older sister” takes were obviously ridiculous, but laudna does canonically look at imogen and see someone young who she wants to protect in a way she never was. she said as much to fcg after the gnarlrock fight. laudna acts as imogen’s rock, her tether if you will, a lot of the time, and part of the reason she can counterbalance imogen’s anxiety is because of the experience that comes with age. for example, during their conversation in episode 49, laudna is able to stay more “rational” and level-headed even when imogen is scared and overwhelmed.

one of my other favorite things about them, specifically from laudna’s point of view, is that with a few exceptions (the gnarlrock fight, her jealousy of frida), she doesn’t seem insecure about their relationship. again, during episode 49, laudna mentions that she knows they haven’t talked in a while, but she didn’t worry because they “transcend words.” she didn’t need outside assurance from imogen because she felt confident in their love for each other. something i love about that episode 39-49 period is that they didn’t interact a lot, but when they did, they slipped right about in the same kind of intimacy they’d always had—imogen holding launda’s hand when they went into her dream together, laudna’s protectiveness of imogen after she interacted with ludinus. but anyway—that confidence is why i believe the transition from friends to lovers was so easy for laudna. laudna’s unsure of herself, of delilah and what she might do, but she’s absolutely not unsure of the love between her and imogen. that’s why as soon as imogen tells her she’s not a bad person, that she wants to be with laudna in that way, she lets herself embrace it entirely.

in conclusion: they invented romance, they’re the best canon pairing critical role has ever had and one of the best dynamics in general, etc., etc.

laudna/orym

oh my god, WHERE to begin? i feel like my take on their dynamic is slightly controversial. at the very least, i get more push back from people when i post about it than anything else, so let me start with this: orym cares deeply about laudna, i will never dispute that. however, orym is uncomfortable with laudna and has been since the very beginning of the campaign. she’s his friend and he recognizes her beautiful heart and resilient spirit, but he’s uncomfortable with her appearance and her messages in his head, with her macabre humor and her deadness. he can’t reconcile that laudna his friend and laudna the dead woman can’t be separated. laudna’s deadness is a part of her, one laudna embraces. orym, for better or worse, is “normal.” he grew up with a loving family and he had a husband and a career. will and derrig’s deaths were an unbelievable tragedy but one that never challenged his place within the status quo. (sidenote: i’ve always wondered if part of orym’s discomfort with laudna come from the fact that her proximity to death is a reminder of the resurrections will and derrig never got.) he sees himself as a follower, someone that doesn’t stand out, then there’s laudna, who does nothing but stand out.

something i find fascinating is that orym is the first person to find out laudna’s backstory, and it affects him so much he can’t sleep that night and takes a point of exhaustion. he even explicitly recognizes the dehumanization she’s gone through and how laudna’s relationship with puppets like pate and sashimi mirror that. yet, he still never apologizes for trying to disguise her appearance, something without even asking. yes, i get it’s tactical and for “safety” (though that argument falls a bit flat for me when there’s also a glowing rock person and a fully conscious automaton in the group, but whatever), but it still hurts laudna. even beyond that, orym always qualifies his friendship with laudna to other person, making some mention of how she’s dead-looking and isn’t that crazy, wow, almost as if he wants some validation that it—laudna—is weird (one he, interestingly, rarely ever gets, given how enraptured most of the other pcs, including guests, and even some npcs, are with her). he does this even in situations he absolutely doesn’t need to like, for example, when maeve says laudna “looks cooler than i thought.” all this just sucks. it’s not that the love isn’t there, it is. it just isn’t unconditional, and laudna deserves better than that.

finally: the delilah in the room. no, it isn’t orym’s “fault” delilah is back. yes, he was also having an extremely bad time during the bor’dor fight and it wasn’t his “responsibility” to save laudna from herself, but laudna is orym’s friend. he listened to laudna tell him the trauma delilah put her through, he fought through hell to save laudna from her, and still nodded because part of him thought maybe delilah could help him and that was selfish. the fight against ludinus is important to of the bells, but for orym, it’s personal. it’s been his mission for six years. meanwhile, laudna is the one with the least enthusiasm about this. she has no connection to the gods. in fact, she actively thinks they dislike her, but he’s willing to sacrifice not just his safety, but the safety of her and all his friends for a cause they never set out to fight for.

in conclusion: i want to put them in a salad mixer together and watch them go around and around and around and around and around, then let them out to scream at each other a little.

laudna/ashton

if i had to explain laudna and ashton’s dynamic in one word, it would be “projection.” i adore their relationship, it’s one of my top 5 c3 dynamics, but oh my god, so much projection, and it’s so interesting because of that. ashton thinks he understands laudna, but in reality, he doesn’t at all. i’m an absolute sucker for characters that look very different on the surface but in reality are much more similar than they know, and ashton and laudna are that to a tee. they are very much narrative parallels especially regarding their feelings of “brokenness” and how their traumas are physical, visual parts of themselves, but the ways they diverge are almost more interesting.

certain people have said that her conversations with ashton are the only time laudna is “honest” or that, at the very least, she’s more honest with him than she is with anyone else, and i couldn’t disagree more. laudna can be a joyful, optimistic person and deeply traumatized with a core anger she hasn’t truly processed. laudna is a high-charisma character, and in my opinion, part of how that manifests is her ability to adapt her demeanor to the person she’s talking to. she speaks gently to imogen the same way she matches chetney’s hyperactive energy when they go sky-sailing. of course when she’s with ashton, who makes no effort to hide his anger and bitterness and doesn’t want her to be soft, she isn’t. none of these laudnas are more “real” than the others, they’re all laudna. what those people, and ironically, ashton themself, don’t get, or won’t let himself get, is that all those things can be true at once.

with ashton specifically, i don’t think they want to believe that because then they’d have to admit that growth and healing is a real possibility because anger is so much easier to deal with. people talk most about orym’s choices during the bor’dor fight most, but i’m fascinated by ashton’s as well. i wouldn’t be surprised if there was a part, no matter how small, that wanted laudna to break, to prove to himself that he was right and laudna was just as broken and fucked-up as them. so, laudna killing bor’dor was almost vindication, evidenced by their “what have i done?” “nothing i haven’t done.” exchange afterwards.

i don’t want this to sound like ashton doesn’t care about launda, they do. ashton cares about her so much, and besides imogen and fearne, is the most unabashedly into laudna’s aesthetic. i love how much they love all the weird shit she does. i love how protective ashton is of laudna, especially during battles and their willingness to go above and beyond for her—he carried laudna when she was dead despite his chronic pain without complaining once and were willing to make a deal with hexum after going through an entire museum heist to repay their debt. i love the moments when ashton sees how much laudna is struggling and tells her, as gently as he can, to take a moment and do what she can to ground herself. i love that when laudna way too dramatically assumes they kidnapped imogen, their response is “that’s very fair.” it’s all wonderful, and i love them.

in conclusion: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I WANT TO LOCK THEM IN A ROOM AND FORCE THEM TO TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS FOR HOURS.

laudna/fcg

laudna and fcg have been getting more attention in the past few days for obvious reasons and that has me rubbing my hands together maniacally because even though they have very little actual interaction, the subtext is delicious.

besides ashton, fcg might be the character laudna parallels the most, especially their struggle with their humanity (if they’re even human at all), which isn’t helped by the constant dehumanization they face from outsiders, including the almost continuous comments they get when they meet someone new. people look at launda and see a horror while they look at fcg and see a novelty (he’s a robot with personality??), and those both suck. i think, for fcg, laudna is an uncomfortable reflection of himself because everything they’re afraid is true about themself is true about laudna. finding out they had a soul was such an important moment for his character (also remember his early campaign habit of calling other people “soul-touched folks”). as a hollow one, who knows if laudna even has a soul. if i’m honest, fcg seems to think less of laudna than the rest of the party (see: him calling her a “former person,” his speech before casting turn undead including, “no offense to laudna but can you please shine your light and wipe these evil, dead souls off the face of this flat planet?”) and that’s probably why. they have such strict ideas about “good,” which has become “godly,” and “wrong,” (“ungodly”), and within that framework, everything seemed to point to laudna as “ungodly,” which is why their empathy towards her is lacking.

the biggest conflict between fcg and laudna right now is obviously their feelings on the gods. the changebringer brought fcg purpose and tangibly helps them on a daily basis. of course they want to share this incredible thing with everyone they meet, especially his friends. yet, time-and-time again, the world has shown laudna the gods don’t seem to care about her. before someone says anything, pike resurrecting laudna doesn’t automatically mean she has to trust the gods. clerics and paladins spent 30 years running her out of towns for existing and trying to kill her in the name of their gods. if the circumstances were different, there’s a good chance fcg could have been one of those people. for fcg, the world is black-and-white. for laudna, it’s all gray. laudna was able to have a conversation with imogen about the ruby vanguard’s message and the purpose of the gods because she understands the need to question things and thinks that’s a good thing even if she doesn’t agree with the conclusions. fcg’s not there yet, and until he is, their friendship with laudna will never be able to progress past where it is now.

in conclusion: please have a conversation, maybe even two or three. it’d be so good for fcg to learn the world’s incredible nuances and for laudna to see how faith in the gods can be an empowering force for good, not just something beyond her grasp.

laudna/fearne

out of all launda’s dynamics, this is the one i desperately want more of. we’ve gotten so little! almost all their moments are interactions between the three witches that tend to center imogen (making the red-string friendship bracelets and comforting imogen after she talked with relvin come to mind) OR center imogen and fearne’s mutual appreciation for laudna’s… everything. one of my favorite about fearne is that, like imogen, she doesn’t think laudna is gross and creepy, she thinks laudna is gorgeous and charming without any caveats. even ashton, who also loves laudna’s laudnaness, tends more towards “yeah, you’re disgusting and THAT’S why it’s great.”

the other main part of their dynamic i want to sink my teeth into is the coin-toss, more specifically fearne’s guilt over the coin toss. regardless of whether you think fearne lied (i personally find that headcanon FASCINATING but to each their own), she clearly feels so many emotions about having to pick whether to save laudna and orym that she hasn’t even begun to unpack. one of the few sole moments we’ve gotten of them was in episode 42 when laudna asked fearne to help teach her to cast fireball, and in it, fearne, unprompted, blurts out, “how’s it feel being alive again?” almost immediately. she also apologizes to laudna, says they’ll fight any piece of delilah that’s still in there, and tells her, “i missed you terribly for that moment in time.” even when laudna gives her the chance to make the conversation light-hearted, fearne stays so genuine, which is all the more-noteworthy because she’s usually so flippant and almost always keeps her real feelings close to her chest.

some other examples of fearne’s guilt include: the 4sd where ashley said part of why she was so protective over imogen during their separation arc was that she couldn’t bear having to tell laudna anything happened to her and just this past episode when fearne’s protectiveness after laudna made her only cast first-level cure wounds on fcg after they cast turn undead.

in conclusion: PLEASE LET THEM INTERACT MORE. THERE’S SO MUCH JUICY POTENTIAL AND I WANT TO SEE IT EXPLORED.

laudna/chetney

i don’t have that much to say about them except that their dynamic is absolutely delightful. i love that we’ve gotten to see more of it in recent episodes, and i hope that continues.

chetney exists at an interesting place between orym’s genuine discomfort and fearne and imogen’s complete enchantment with laudna’s undeadness. he is sometimes grossed out, but he also seems to accept it as a thing about laudna without too much judgment, or at least, that “judgment” is light-hearted in a way orym’s or even fcg’s isn’t.

i love that they’re the characters with the most life experience (even if laudna is technically the fourth oldest, fcg only has two years of memory and fearne is a 100+ but spent 99% of that time in one place) but also embrace being “childish” and silly together, like the entire sky-sail sequence!

in conclusion: *gently holds* i just think they’re neat!

that’s all! if you read this whole thing, you get my eternal love and gratitude. thank you.

#laudna #imodna #laudmoore #orym #fresh cut grass #fearne calloway #chetney pock o'pea #bells hells #critical role #my posts #textpost #i’m weirdly more nervous about posting this on here than on twitter #but i spent like three hours writing and am pretty proud of the result #in case it isn’t clear i want to reiterate that i love ALL these characters #including orym and fcg #but they aren’t perfect #that’s what makes their dynamics so interesting!

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i-luvsang · 7 months

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like a dream — kang yeosang

pairing : dryad!yeosang x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, angst, fantasy, strangers to lovers ➖⟢ cw : mythological inaccuracies, food mentions, borderline controlling parents, scary encounter with dark fae, kissing, pet names ➖⟢ wc : 13.3K ➖⟢ for : the stuck in summer collab held by @a1sh1teruu ➖⟢ special thanks : to @yuyusuyu for beta reading !! <33

bonus : inspo pinterest board & playlist

about dryads : in this fic, dryads retain their core attribute of being nymphs/spirits of trees, their life force being connected to the tree they reside in. they differ from traditional greek mythology here, in that they can be in the image of any gender (not just women), and are considered to be a type of fae.

it all felt like a dream, like magic. the summer haze that fell over the quiet countryside, the trees rustling softly with the gentle wind as twilight fell. the cool water of the lake in your hair, fresh strawberries from the farm just a short walk away, and more than anything at all, him. his smile, the twinkle in his eyes, and, like a miracle, his hand in yours.

admittedly, it didn’t feel that way in the beginning. to be whisked away to your practically estranged grandmother’s home in the middle of nowhere was never what you imagined for the summer between high school and the start of your college journey. you left the day after graduation, still vividly angry with your parents as they shooed you onto the train.

“i swear i’ll be fine on my own! mingi’s parents offered to help if i need anything while you’re gone,” you protested, trying not to let them hand you your already packed bags.

“your grandmother has already prepared to have you. you are getting on that train. we paid for the ticket, you’re all packed, and we are not letting you stay home alone for two and a half months,” they refuted. you had wanted to argue more, maybe bring up a new point, but by then, you had said it all, and despite your recent entry into legal adulthood, your parents still held far too much sway over you.

the train ride is long, dreadfully so. despite the glory of the city fading and gradually being replaced by tumbling hills, trees, and fields, you cannot help but curse it all in your head, too wrapped up in self-pity to love the sights in the way that you normally would.

a woman that you barely recognize from your childhood greets you at the bus stop as the sun begins to dip low in the sky. she’s sweet to you, but not overbearingly so. during the ride from the station to her home in her small, run down car, you do your best not to act coldy to her, trying to remind yourself it’s not her fault that your parents dumped you into her care for two and a half months.

by the time you arrive, the sun has set, and she has grown on you more than you would like to admit for how adamant you’ve been in hating everything about your current situation. she understands that spending the summer with her is not your ideal by any stretch, and she promises she’ll do her best to make you comfortable in any way she can. the way she says it all is kind and genuine, and you’re grateful to see that she’s far more understanding than your parents have been all month leading up to this.

she allows you to settle in for the first few days, showing you around the need-to-know basics of the sweet cottage she lives in. she’s seemingly unbothered by the way you spend most of your time in your room on your phone, bemoaning your unfortunate state to your friends over text or the phone.

but it only takes her five days to have you falling in love with the place around you. the first two are for your sulking, the third for getting you to come out of the house and take a look at her gardens. the fourth day is for a walk to a nearby farm to purchase fresh produce (the strawberries being your favorite), and the fifth is for the sunset.

it’s glorious, and you have no choice but to admit it. after a freshly cooked meal, eaten on her porch as the heat of the day finally begins to subside, she asks you to stay and watch the sunset with her. you agree, even if the sun won’t set for another hour, now aware that you don’t mind spending time with her at all. you talk as you have been for the past few days, the conversation easy and never forced. when a breeze cool enough to feel like an early manifestation of the night rustles the leaves on the trees and the clothes on your body alike, you wonder why your parents ever distanced you from her at all.

she doesn’t let the conversation die out even as the sun truly begins to set, and you like it that way. it feels natural and gentle to have the colors become brilliant in the sky as you learn to accept and love the place you have been plopped into for the summer.

it’s not half as bad as you imagined. though you still feel bouts of jealousy for the adventures your friends are having without you and bitterness aimed at your parents for not allowing you to experience this summer the way you wanted, you try to heed the silent advice from your grandmother to make the best of your situation. she never says that out loud, of course, knowing you’d hate to hear it, but she gives you ways to do so each time she shows you a new beautiful thing.

in the second week, you muster up the courage to ask her over dinner if you’re allowed to go into the forest behind her house by yourself. the day before you went on a short walk into it together, and you felt as though you’d fallen in love with it. she does nothing to hide her smile at the question.

“of course!” she delights. “it’s very safe, it’s quite hard to get lost so long as you don’t stray too far and stay on the paths. almost all of them lead back here or to the main road. i’ll show you tomorrow.”

she sticks to her word, as always, and takes the whole day to show you around the closest areas of the woods. from that day forward, the forest becomes yours. while your grandmother loves it, some stretches are more difficult for her to navigate in her older age, so most days you explore it on your own.

when you’re in the forest, the adventurous side of you comes out. of course, you’re still full of caution, but you are not immune to the allure of a bit of well-calculated risk taking for the sake of tree climbing and wandering off the path just a little bit.

the things that pull you off the path are simple; flowers, mushrooms, long stretches of moss, and the likes. usually it’s something you’d like to capture with the digital camera your grandma has lent you for the summer.

this time, it’s where the furthest navigable path begins to change direction to lead you back home. right where your grandmother told you it’s best not to stray any further. but it’s not far from the path at all, just a small patch of mushrooms that you’ve missed up until now. you make your way over without a second thought, pulling out your camera and snapping a quick picture.

when you stand back up and look out over the small downward slope just a few feet away from you, something else far more special catches your eye. you hesitate this time, knowing that you won’t be able to see the path if you climb your way below it to examine the white flower that you see on the edge of your vision. but you can’t resist the allure, too curious about the single, out of place bloom. so, taking note of your spot at the top of the slope to make your way back to it easily, you carefully make your way down and across the stretch of your vision to confirm your suspicions about the flower. up close, you take in its appearance, and while you’re not an expert, you know enough to tell that it’s a dahlia.

it’s curious, to say the least, to see the white flower fully blossomed when your grandmother had shown you the short dahlia stems in her garden, telling you that you’d be lucky to see them bloom before you left. in response to the phenomenon, you take your time to snap a few photos to show your grandma the early bloom.

once satisfied, you stand from your bent over position and grin when you see a butterfly fluttering deeper into the forest. you take a few steps towards it, trying to get close enough to identify it, when a deep voice interrupts you.

“i wouldn’t recommend going much further from the trail.” the voice is gentle, but it still startles you into whipping around in surprise. you take in the figure standing a few feet away from you. the first thing you notice is that he’s absolutely gorgeous, features soft and beautiful enough to rival the looks of the fairies in the set of paintings hung up in your grandma’s hallway. but that does nothing to aid your surprise. he is, after all, a stranger in the middle of the forest who has somehow approached you in complete silence.

“who–,” you choke the word out, nervous and not even sure what you want to say.

the soft smile on his face shifts into a look of light regret. “sorry. i didn’t mean to startle you. i live close by,” he explains.

“oh.” this doesn’t explain why you couldn’t hear him approach, but you let it slide by chalking it up to the fact that you weren’t paying much attention to anything but the flower and the butterfly. “my grandmother never mentioned you.”

“was she supposed to have mentioned me?” he asks, the hint of a teasing lilt in his voice.

you clear your throat a bit awkwardly. “well, no? i mean, maybe. she told me about everyone else who lives in the area,” you tell him. you’re a bit offended she never mentioned a boy so strikingly handsome.

he hums in acknowledgment. “i don’t go out much,” is all he offers in information. you look him up and down, growing a little suspicious under his gaze with all of these vague answers. he looks perfectly normal, dark brown, almost black hair that falls down to his cheeks in the front and wearing simple clothes. he sports a mossy green t-shirt and dark wash jeans that make him look like he belongs in the forest. he looks confident and comfortable where he stands, as if he knows every inch of this place. maybe he does, granted his claim that he lives close by.

“i mean it, though,” he interrupts your train of thought. “it can be hard to find your way back to the trail if you go any further than this.”

“ah. right,” you nod. “i was just looking at this flower. i thought dahlia’s didn’t bloom until august.”

his reaction to your words is odd when it looks like an expression of nervousness flashes across his face. but it disappears so fast you take the time to wonder if you’d just imagined it.

“usually,” he confirms, “but sometimes they bloom early here.”

“interesting,” you muse, curious again what could be the difference between the forest and your grandmother’s garden. a moment of silence passes between the two of you, and it seems there’s nothing left to say. plus, you’ve got to get home sooner than later to be in time for dinner.

“i guess i’ll get going then.” you point vaguely in the direction you came from.

“right.” there’s silence only interrupted by the sounds of your foot falls as you begin walking away, already thinking of the many things you’ll have to tell your grandma over dinner. the early blooming flower, the somewhat strange boy. he pulls you right out of your thoughts once again with his melodic voice. “i’m yeosang, by the way.”

you turn around to face him, surprised when you’re met with what you could only describe as a bashful expression on his face.

“oh!” you give him your name, not even having realized the two of you never really introduced yourselves to one another. “i’m staying with my grandma for the summer.”

“well,” he echoes your name, and the way it rolls off his tongue in that deep voice of his has your heart jumping in a way you hadn’t expected at all, “see you around.”

“mhmm,” you agree, suddenly eager to meet this stranger again. “see you!”

with that, you turn and make your way back up to the trail, and when you glance back around to seek out his pretty face one more time, he’s nowhere to be seen.

—

when you arrive back at the cottage, it’s just in time for you to help your grandmother set the table for dinner. the food is aromatic and fresh as always, but even the watering in your mouth at the sight of it isn’t enough to distract you fully from your odd encounter in the woods. it’s hard to hold back from telling her all about it the second you got home.

but, you don’t have to wait for long. once you’re both settled at the table with food served and a few bites eaten she asks you how your outing went today.

“actually,” you begin eagerly, “it was quite eventful. and before i say anything else, i promise i stayed within sight of the trail.” she raises an eyebrow at that, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips that tells you to go on. “i saw a dahlia off the path. it was white and in full bloom. i have pictures to show you after dinner! do you think there’s a difference between your garden and the forest?”

“really? that’s fascinating,” she ponders, “i’m not sure if there’s any difference besides maybe the soil, but that’s still unusually early for wild dahlias.”

“that’s what i thought,” you agree. “but grandma! i met some guy while i was looking at it. do you know someone named yeosang who lives around here? he didn’t seem much older than me.”

“ah!” she claps her hands in recognition. “i’m surprised you met him. i’ve never met him myself. i’ve heard he lives in a small cottage in the forest. according to anyone who’s seen him, he's quite a recluse, but still kind.”

“he was a little bit odd. but nice, he seemed to mean well,” you pause a moment before deciding to go on, “but grandma!” you let out a light laugh, “he was… he was really cute.” you’re downplaying the extent of his beauty, but you’re not really one to call a man you just met “gorgeous” in front of your grandma, no matter how fitting the word truly is.

“well, well, well,” she laughs, “have we found you a summer crush?” she teases.

“that’s not what i’m saying,” you refute. “i’m just saying he’s good-looking. maybe he comes across nice but has a rotten personality!”

“i hope that’s not the case!” she lets out another laugh. “maybe you can get him to get out of his shell and get to know the people he lives around. he’s so young, it must be hard for him to live alone.”

“he’s alone?” suddenly a new wave of curiosity and even concern crashes over you.

“well, as far as we all know. i feel so sorry to say it, but he’s so rarely sighted and even less talked to that i think many of us forget about him. i’m sure he’s a kind boy and could use a friend like you.”

you hum absentmindedly at that, already wondering if you’ll run into him again.

but it’s not until the next morning, once again making your way to the deepest point in the forest you’re allowed, that you realize you’re starting to hope to see him again. you find yourself far too curious about him, wanting to know more, looking for his fairy-like features every corner you round.

you reach the spot where you stepped off the trail yesterday, pausing to wonder if he’s more likely to show up here since it’s where you saw him first. it feels a bit silly when you shuffle to the edge and bring your foot over into the vegetation right off the path.

“you don’t have to leave the path for me to show up.”

you can barely process that the tone of his voice is genuine, not teasing like the words themselves might suggest, as you nearly trip over nothing when you’re startled into spinning around too quickly.

his smile is sheepish and apologetic when you lay your eyes on his face. “sorry.” the boy—yeosang, you remind yourself—doesn’t have to explain what for; you recall his apology last time for surprising you like this.

“how are you so quiet?” you wonder aloud, voice curious and void of any accusatory tones, not bothering to keep the question silent this time. you hope it’s not rude to ask, but he just shrugs.

“i’m just used to moving like that, living out here.”

it’s not a very clear or enlightening explanation, but you brush it off regardless. there’s a moment of silence as the two of you just peer upon the other, a hint of curiosity in his eyes that mirrors your own features.

“so…,” you begin, hoping he doesn’t mind if you ask more questions, “you seem to be quite at home here … how long have you been living here?”

“my whole life,” yeosang must sense your surprise at that answer, so he continues speaking to explain, “my parents were, well, recluses, and since they moved out a few years ago, i seem to be following in their footsteps. that’s why most people around here—like your grandmother—don’t know much about me.”

suddenly, you decide you don’t want this to be a short lived conversation. as you ask a new question, you take just a few short steps to sit on a flat rock at the edge of the trail. he follows in suit, taking his place right on the forest floor, leaning his back against a tree directly across from you.

“do you prefer it that way, then?”

he pauses, as if he doesn’t have an answer prepared for that. “i guess,” he shrugs. “i’m used to it.”

“so you don’t get lonely? yknow, living alone now?” you’re surprised by the questions that spill out of your mouth as if without permission. they’re not the kind of thing you normally ask pretty boys you’ve just met. but, more than that, you’re curious about the way the features of his face reflect the internal debate he must be having as he tries to come up with an answer to your question. it’s either as if no one’s ever asked these sorts of questions, nor has he thought about the subject at hand at all. or maybe there’s an answer he could give, but would rather not. you suppose it’s the former option, if he’s really been so secluded from all the people around him for his whole life.

“sometimes,” is the cryptic, too-simple answer yeosang decides to give. but, as seems normal with him, his voice and the look in his eyes are laden with much more. you feel crazy for thinking it, but it feels like he’s saying, “sometimes i’m lonely, but most of the time i’m alright. either way, it’d certainly be nice to have someone else around. you, maybe.” you hope that’s what his eyes are telling you, but you could just be pushing your own feelings onto him because you don’t want to be the only one who feels that way. you love your grandmother’s company, but these days you’ve been missing in-person interaction with friends your age.

“sometimes,” you nod, mumbling the word under your breath. for a moment, you let the air fill with bird calls and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. “so, mr. yeosang,” you speak louder, weaving a bit of playfulness into your voice, “since you’ve been living here your whole life, is there any chance you’d be able to show me around the forest. you know, off the trails.” you watch as a soft, almost hesitant smile makes its way onto his lips.

“sure,” he replies, his answer short as always and turned into something meaningful by the borderline innocent, and certainly sweet look on his face. yeosang’s glad you asked, he just doesn’t say it out loud.

“cool,” you grin. eyes drifting down to examine the plants beside your feet, you wonder what you’re supposed to say next. but that’s no longer a worry when he speaks up first.

“we can start tomorrow,” he proposes. he rushes to follow up, with a kind, “if that’s alright with you, of course.”

your smile grows at his consideration, the light worry in his voice that he hasn’t been perfectly kind to you. in your eyes, he certainly has.

“that’s perfect,” you assure him, “i’ve got practically nothing to do all summer long, anyways.”

“great.” he sends you a smile that catches you completely off guard. or rather, it’s your own reaction that surprises you. the way the curve of his lips and the sparkle in his eyes sends your heart racing. on second thought, maybe hanging out with the prettiest person you’ve ever laid eyes upon isn’t the best idea you’ve had. of course, that thought is completely wiped from your mind when his melodic voice meets your eager ears again. “you know the giant rock at the fork between painter’s path and luna moth trail?” you nod quickly at his question. “we can meet there, then.”

“sounds good!” you chirp, then glance up to the sky between the treetops to check if the afternoon sun has begun dipping low enough to force you back on the trail homewards. sighing, because you’re just a little bit disappointed your time with him can’t last any longer today, you tell him it’s about time for you to head back and bid him goodbye.

“see you tomorrow,” he calls softly after you. his words send a rush of excitement in the form of flitting butterflies to your stomach, so you rush off, wondering what’s gotten into you. butterflies? already?

—

the next morning, you wake with yeosang already on your mind. the first thing that you realize is that you never set an actual time to meet with him. it was just “tomorrow.” you let that slip up worry you for a measly thirty seconds as you pull the cream colored sheets away from your body. but the way that the morning sunlight sneaks into your room through the white curtains and illuminates the framed artworks above your dresser steals that prick of worry away, replacing it with something akin to whimsy. somehow, you’re sure he’ll know when to meet you. and if not, by some chance, you wouldn’t mind waiting for him one bit.

after a quick breakfast and a hasty goodbye to your grandma, you grab your bag, already packed with your usual supplies of water, lunch, and your camera, and rush out the back door. by now, most paths are familiar, and you easily make your way to your designated meeting spot. that boulder is clear in your memory, as well as the pictures of it captured by your camera. you adore the way that the moss grows on the intimidatingly large stone and the view of the forest floor from the top when you managed to climb it last week.

it’s a delight to find him already there, perched up high at the exact spot you ate your lunch last thursday. it takes up all of your willpower to keep from pulling out your camera and capturing the image of his practically divine figure, soaking up both the sunlight that filters in through the leaves and the dappled shade that the trees provide. once again, you’re struck with just how much he appears to belong in this forest, as if you couldn’t imagine him anywhere else but here.

he’s already looking in your direction when he comes into your line of sight, and you’re reminded of how you don’t have his talent of traveling through the brush in complete silence. the subtle wave and soft smile that he gives you sends a rush through your body. you return the wave, now more eager than ever to explore the forest with him as your guide. he tells you to wait at the path for him, disappearing for only a moment before reemerging from the side of the boulder in mere seconds. you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to look at him without his beauty throwing you off momentarily like a breeze that rustles your clothing out of place just enough that you have to stop a second to collect yourself.

“you ready?” he asks, the tone of his voice not helping you to respond normally. you clear your throat unnecessarily before answering.

“mhmm!” you nod your head enthusiastically. “where to?”

the light smile on his face quirks up so that it’s almost mischievous. “a surprise?” he says the words like a question, both to sound extra teasing but to also leave you room to protest if you really want.

your grin grows. “if you insist.”

he smiles wider too. you get the inclination that his smile will be the death of you someday.

it surprises you just how easy it is to talk with yeosang considering how flustered his presence makes you sometimes. but you don’t complain at all; instead, you soak it all up the same way you do with the new scenery that comes when you part from the path. he’s a wonderful listener, clearly content to hear anything and everything about you with the way he asks actually interesting questions and retains every detail that you provide him. of course, you hate to be the only one talking, and you hate not to hear more of his voice, so you’re sure to engage him to talk about himself. he’s intelligent with his words, reserved with how much he says, but speaking volumes in just a sentence or two. the simple things are nice too. you get to learn the way he pronounces words like lychee, syrup, and caramel and he gets to learn how much you love fresh fruits for dessert and that you hate frosting unless it’s homemade and not too sweet.

you’re about to ask him if he likes rainy weather when he tells you to wait for just a moment. you nod, and he pulls himself up to the top of the shallow ravine you’ve been walking through. it’s taller than the both of you, and the grace in which he climbs to the top is impressive. he crouches at the edge and extends his hand out to you. you flush when you realize you’re supposed to hold his hand. trying not to think too much about it, you reach up to place your hand in his. it’s alright for a split second, but when his deep voice meets your ears as you keep your eyes level with the vegetation in front of you, your heart begins to hammer in your chest. you almost don’t catch what he says.

“if you put your left foot on that rock by your knee, i can pull you the rest of the way up,” he advises. you hope he doesn’t notice the slight buffer in between his words and when you actually follow his instruction. but he’s right, it’s easier that way and you’re standing at the edge of the small cliff seconds later, just far too close to him for your heart to come back to its normal resting rate.

“thanks,” you breathe out, voice quieter than you expected it to be. but he hears you easily with your body pressed against his and only the rustle of leaves sounding through the forest.

“of course.” you feel a bit better knowing that his voice has come out almost as hushed as yours, as if there’s something special about being this close to one another. as if this is something you both would rather not brush off as nothing. instead, being close to him is something, it means something. what it means, you’re not sure, but you do know that despite the nervous fluttering of your heart, being near him is safe and filled with peace.

you try not to hate it when he pulls away because you feel strange that you’re so attracted to him barely three days into having met him. yet, you question the harm of it. who’s to say you can’t have a summer love under the leaves, with a quiet, gorgeous boy who seems to have taken a liking to you too? certainly not you.

when you turn to face the direction he’s looking in, a different type of excitement takes over your mind. there’s still a bit of a ways left, but there’s no doubt that what you see in the distance is the sight of sunlight catching on water.

you spin your head to face him again. “there’s a lake?”

he lets out a light laugh at the clear excitement in your voice. “i think i’d classify it as a pond, but yes. we’re close to my favorite part on the shore.”

“perfect,” you grin. you let him continue to lead the way, reminding yourself not to get ahead of yourself in the case of unexpected landmarks like the kind he’s been steering you clear of the whole way here. he seems to know every little thing about the forest, easily guiding you away from roots, rocks, and the likes that you would probably trip over were you alone. that’s just a small reason you’re so glad to be with him.

when the trees break and you’re met with a small patch of land between the trees and water, you pull in a gasp of awe. the following breath comes out as a contented sigh. he’s right; the body of water isn’t nearly big enough to be classified as a lake. but that doesn’t take away any of its glory. the lily pads are blooming and the trees lining the edge are beautiful in contrast to the water. and you could fall in love with sunlight reflecting off of any water every time you see it, and this time is no exception. it’s just that maybe you’ve fallen in love a bit more than you normally do, knowing that this place is tucked away, almost a secret. knowing that you’re discovering this place with him, and knowing that there’s more. suddenly you’re curious.

“have you ever shown this place to anyone else?”

the question seems to catch him off guard, and you instantly wish you’d bitten your tongue before letting it slip from your mouth. you wish you’d just told him that it’s beautiful, that you love it, that you’re grateful he’s shown it to you regardless if you’re the only one or not. but then there’s a light smile on his face.

“no,” he answers, “there are people that know about it, of course, but i’ve never shown it to someone.”

you nod, thankful he’s not upset that you asked, but instead seemingly glad to answer instead. as if he’d like you to know you’re the only one, but he’s too shy to bring it up himself. as if he’s glad that you’re asking because it means that you want to be the only one.

“well, thank you for showing me. i love it.” you let that hang in the air and hold back the questions that you still have because you want him to know that you mean it.

“i’m glad you love it,” he says, voice sincere as always. and the silence isn’t the kind that you hate, it’s the kind where you both know that the quiet is right because you’re both basking in the beauty of what’s before you, you’re basking in the fact that it feels like the person beside you is willing to understand you and if feels like they’ll continue to do so. you’re basking in the silence because all of it feels right, feels like a fairytale, like a dream. because how the hell do you meet someone twice for so short of a time and then talk for hours when you see them next? how could silence already be comfortable? turns out it just is.

for you, it turns out the quiet boy is always kind, is always willing to listen, and always willing to answer. it turns out that he never tires of showing you new places like the bubbling creek and he doesn’t mind that you love catching frogs and salamanders just to hold them for a moment. he must think it’s cute that you find them cute every single time. he tells you about the types of moss and lichen that cover the boulder over twice the size of the one you meet at nearly every morning. he obliges when you want to go back to the pond to wade in the water and look for tadpoles in the shallows. he knows that you’ll love that one clearing in the middle of the deep trees that always filters in the rays of the sun just right so that it always appears to be straight out of a fantasy movie. and he loves to take you to the willow tree.

the moment you told him it was your favorite spot, yeosang thought he’d kiss you right then and there. but he knew it was too soon. before then, you’d only held hands, first as you ran through the forest to his small, bare cabin to escape the rain, then shyly a few times more just because it felt nice.

you’re holding hands now as you near the willow for the millionth time in the last month since you’d met. it’s a normal occasion by now, as you claim to only be grabbing his hand because it can get cold in the forest, but the two of you know it’s because neither of you can get enough of it. you’re just too shy to admit anything like that.

it doesn’t take long for you to settle at the trunk of the tree; the routine of sitting side by side in the grass with lunch splayed out in front of you is easy and natural now. once the food’s all gone, you’ll sit and talk for hours until you have no choice but to head home. today is no different, the same motions are there, along with the butterflies in your stomach that always come from sitting so close to him, his voice practically right in your ear as he goes on about something that you love to hear. but today he seems quiet, pensive. it’s almost as if you can feel the way that thoughts swirl around in his mind, like you can see it in his eyes as he silently eats the sandwich in his hand. he’s a bit far away, in a way that’s not quite bad, but not good either. you wish he’d tell you what’s on his mind.

you let it sit for a while, understanding of the want to just be. to let oneself be quiet without the pressure to hold a conversation. but you also want to help. you don’t want him to feel like he has to hold in whatever he’s thinking of if he doesn’t want to.

“what’s up?” you ask, voice light and airy as if to show him that you’re giving him space to do as he wishes.

“do you believe in magic?” the question slips out of his mouth as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. yeosang’s gaze avoids yours, staring straight forward as you peer at him. you take in his features the same you that you always love to. the lines of his profile perfectly catch the light of the sun that streams through the delicate leaves of the willow. your gaze drifts from his ridiculously dainty eyelashes to the unique curve of his nose and finally to the lips you haven’t been able to get out of your mind since the time you named this place as your favorite.

when you said that two weeks ago, you’d been sitting like you were now, shoulders and thighs brushing together. he didn’t say a word, but he turned his head to meet your eyes and suddenly he was leaning close, closer than he’d ever been. but a far away look flashed through his eyes, one that mirrored his gaze now, and he let his lips curve into a sad smile that you still don’t understand. then he moved away, and said, “i’m glad,” and you knew he meant it.

suddenly, you realize you’ve let his question hang in the air for too long, lost like always in thoughts of him. you pause a moment longer, wanting to answer truthfully and thoughtfully.

“i want to believe in magic,” you admit. “though i guess it could depend on how you define magic. like actual fairies and spells and storybook tales that aren’t real—or that we don’t know if they’re real—or things like this. to me, this is magic. the sun lighting up the leaves and the side of your face, and the beauty of this tree. to me, magic can be the way someone makes you feel. but if we’re talking about the other kind … i want to believe in it. i wish it were real but it’s kind of hard to believe in it when i’ve never seen that kind of magic. i’m a hopeless romantic in some ways. i’ll still imagine that fairytales could be real, that if i hope hard enough i’d see a fairy living in a toadstool fairyhouse. but i still like proof, so i settle with that hope.” once you let out your long-winded answer, you realize you’d probably never say that to anyone else. that happens a lot when he asks you questions.

something in yeosang’s gaze changes and he’s not so far away anymore. if anything, there’s that last word you spoke reflected in his expression. hope. like that’s the perfect answer for you to have given him.

“i like that way of thinking,” he says, voice soft and honest. you want to ask him if he believes in magic, but for once the question stays stuck in the back of your throat. it doesn’t feel like he’s ready to give his answer and you’re a bit bewildered as to why, but you let him be. you always let him be when that far away look interrupts his smile.

exhaling lightly, you let your head tilt to the side until it’s fallen onto yeosang’s broad shoulder.

“it’s nice to hope,” you say, wondering if his heart could be beating as fast as yours is.

“it is.” then his head is resting on yours and you wish that summer would never end. you don’t know it, but he wishes the same in a far more desperate and bittersweet way.

—

today, you’re meeting him at the willow rather than the normal spot at the boulder. you readily agreed when he asked if that would be alright with you, confident in finding the way on your own. the confidence was warranted, as you’ve walked there many times and the journey has been smooth from the beginning. you know you’re almost there when you pass the bend in the creek with the young maple tree hanging its branches over the water. it’s only a few steps later that something catches your eye.

instantly you’re reminded of the first time that you met yeosang, a fully bloomed dahlia coming into view. this time it’s dark in color, the deep red-ish undertones of the petals visible even from your vantage point. without a second thought, you pull out your camera and clamber your way over to the regal flower, surprised you’ve never noticed it before. now that august is right around the corner, it’s far less odd to see a dahlia bloom, but now that they remind you of yeosang you can’t help but want to capture the pretty sight in your camera.

as you focus your gaze into the viewing piece of the camera, you frown at the dark lighting that you can tell will be reflected into the image. there was plenty of sunlight filtering through the leaves just moments ago. you pull the camera away from your face to reevaluate your surroundings, confused.

without warning, everything begins to grow dark, like the once artful shadows of the forest are multiplying and expanding right in front of your eyes. it’s like when a storm approaches and the sun is swallowed up by thick clouds, but it’s not a darkening of the sky that swallows you up, but rather the shadows themselves.

fear hits you like a truck, and your heart hammers in your chest because you know instinctively that none of this is right. i need to get to the willow, is all you can think, and yet the moment you resolve to run, it’s as if you can’t tear your eyes away from the flower in front you.

you wonder if this is what it feels like to be under a spell, a real one, a dark one. nothing like the spell of falling in love, nothing like the feeling of being stunned into silence from one glance at those glorious eyes of his.

“you’re a lovely little creature, aren’t you?” a horrified chill runs up your spine when the dark, thin voice permeates through the air just like the unnatural shadows. you dare not look up to where the voice came from, though you’re not even sure you could look away from the dahlia. sharp, shallow breaths escape your mouth as you panic. it feels like you’ve been thrown straight into a nightmare. you shut your eyes tight and beg in your head to please wake up, please wake up, i have to wake up.

your eyes almost snap open when the voice speaks again, sinister and demanding. “don’t be so afraid. look at me.” but you realize that with your eyes closed, you’re no longer being pulled towards the flower by your transfixed gaze.

so you turn and run.

opening your eyes doesn’t do much to help you, the darkness that’s wrapped around the trees is not too different from the dead of night. you trip over roots and get whacked in the face by low hanging branches, stumbling along in the direction you can only pray is back to the safety of the willow. you’re not even sure why you’re so convinced that the tree can save you, but you have to run somewhere.

it feels like a miracle when you see the shadows begin to thin in the near distance. the promise of daylight prompts you to push yourself to run faster. and you think it’s working because you haven’t heard anything but your own rapid footfalls and heavy breathing. the light is getting closer.

but something as firm as metal shackles latches itself around your upper arm and you can’t control the scream that rips from your throat as you’re yanked into darkness again. this time the darkness is solid, wrapped around you like spindly, immovable arms. then the darkness speaks and you realize you really are being held by something.

“you’ve wandered too far for me to just let you go like that. humans.” the last word is spit out like something disgusting and covetable all at once. then you realize the last word makes it sound like whatever freakishly tall and strong thing holding you captive is not human. that would make sense if there were other things in this world that could talk but aren’t human. but that’s not real and this has to be a horrifyingly realistic nightmare.

you struggle in the grip he has you in, desperate to get away. “let me go!” you scream. he just clicks his tongue.

but then he does. his arms release you and you almost crumple to the ground with how weak your knees are with fear. you try to run, but suddenly he has his hand on your chin, forcing you to look up at him and you can no longer move of your own free will.

his face is striking, beautiful even. his black eyes are so empty it feels like they’re burning holes straight through your soul. he looks human. almost. but he's at least 7 feet tall and his face is framed with shadows rather than locks of hair. his robes seem to be shifting and swirling like black smoke. he himself seems to be shadow. and those eyes are certainly not human. just like he’s the black dahlia, you can’t look away.

“that little dryad thought he'd scored himself a sweet prize, didn’t he?” he tilts his head as he asks the rhetorical question, one that makes absolutely no sense to you. “a shame you wandered too far from his tree. i can’t believe he let you walk alone so close to the border. getting you to cross it was far too easy,” he croons. the first tree that comes to your mind is the willow and you have to shut out the wild thought that this monster is talking about yeosang. yeosang who loves the willow tree, yeosang who asked you to meet him there, leaving you to walk the whole way on your own. yeosang who you first met at a white dahlia bloom.

thoughts of him crowd your mind, pushing out the darkness bit by bit. so you concentrate on everything here that’s felt opposite to this nightmare; everything dreamlike. in your mind there are rainstorms watched from the safety of your grandmother’s porch, frogs from the creek in your hand, and sunlight dappling the forest floor. there’s the shining pond, fresh strawberries, and priceless sunsets. there’s his hand in yours, his breath on your cheek, and the branches of the willow tree swaying in the breeze. and then there’s nothing tying you to the darkness, so in desperation, you bolt, praying that this time you’ll be fast enough.

the light approaches faster and there are tears on your cheeks. letting out a cry, you see a figure running towards you, backlit from the sunlight that was always supposed to be there, and you know it signals safety before you can see his face.

yeosang gets closer and closer, and suddenly his hand is wrapped around your wrist and he’s tugging you along behind him, towards the light. you hear nothing behind you, but you know the shadowy figure is there, his dark smoke nipping at your feet, trying and succeeding in catching up.

but yeosang runs far faster than you thought he could and at any other time you’d question how you’re able to keep up at all. now you can see it. the blurry border where you can somehow see the light and dark balance perfectly. and you know you need to get past it where the light overpowers dark, where it is natural and shadows only exist because there is sun.

you let out a cry of surprise when you feel a sting at your lower calves and look down to see the smoky shadows climb higher, biting at the back of your legs and climbing up to your knees and lower thighs as your captor comes closer to keeping you in his cold grasp.

“keep going,” yeosang urges, and you resist the urge to let out a loud sob at the sound of his voice. you want to scream at him and ask what the hell is going on. instead, you follow his lead and push yourself even harder than you thought possible, and suddenly you’re sprawling forward, straight into the ground as your hand slips out of yeosang’s grip.

the fear clenching your heart squeezes hard, but nothing else snatches you up, no shadowy, steel-like hands, no cold voice in your ear. just him at your side in milliseconds, voice asking if you’re okay and hands pulling you up from the ground. you don’t say a word as he hoists you to your feet, telling you that you’re safe for now, but should get farther from the border as fast as possible. you just let him hold you close as he guides your tired and wobbly legs away until you’re under the leaves of the most familiar tree in the whole forest. only then do you let your knees buckle and a fresh wave of tears escape from your eyes. he keeps you steady so you don’t fall, gently lowering you to the ground and into his arms.

he holds you like that for god knows how long, rubbing your back in an attempt to sooth your shaking, and whispering a mix of broken apologies and comforting words to calm your crying.

“i’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. i’m sorry,” he calls you by a mix of sweet things and your name said like something holy. “i never meant for anything like this to happen, i’m sorry. please, please tell me you’re alright,” he begs. you hate how sad and guilty he sounds, but you can’t say a word, completely unable to process anything that’s happened. you just lay in his hold like it’ll keep any threat in the world away from you.

eventually you’re still and quiet in his arms save for your shaky breathing. his shirt is wet under your head. he’s mostly quiet now, still whispering out apologies here and there. it takes a moment for you to speak.

“is this a dream?” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at his very real, heartbroken face.

“i’m sorry,” he answers, voice guilt-ridden. that means no. your head drops back down to his shoulder and you sigh.

“i’m… i’m scared to ask, yeosang,” you begin, voice soft and still a little shaky, “i’m scared to ask what the hell that was and why the hell you seem to know exactly what’s going on.” your tone isn’t accusing, just tired and confused. once you start talking, it’s hard for you to stop, even when the words make little sense. “that– that can’t have been real, i swear. how the hell could that be real? he was– there’s no way that he was… human. he didn’t look, well, possible. and it was like i couldn’t move sometimes and god! i must have been hallucinating.” your voice drops off into silence with a thud. he doesn’t say a word. there’s a stretch of silence, and it feels like the only moving thing is his hand on your back, still rubbing back and forth in comfort. your voice is even smaller than before when you speak again. “and he… he said things and i think he was talking about you. why was he talking about you? why… why aren’t you telling me none of this is real?”

the pain in his voice is enough to tell you without looking that his lips are drawn tight in a frown and his eyebrows are furrowed with something almost as intense as sorrow.

“i’m sorry,” when he speaks his voice is small too. “i wish i could tell you it wasn’t real. and i’m sorry because i never meant for anything like this to happen, i never meant for you to find out like this, and i never should have let you walk out here alone. i wanted to tell you that the magic you let yourself hope for is real, it almost slipped out of my mouth a million times… but i didn’t know how. i didn’t know if there was a right time, or if i’d scare you away, and that’s the last thing i could ever want. i didn’t want anything to change. so i’m sorry i kept you in the dark like this and i’m sorry this happened. please, please, please tell me how i can fix it.” the words tumble out of his mouth like a waterfall, unfiltered and uncontrolled and so clearly true. it’s so different from the way he normally talks. he’s always truthful, but he picks and chooses his words both precisely and scarcely. here, it’s clear that he’s let it all come falling out, too guilty and upset for your sake to filter through the mess of his mind right now.

“and that’s why you asked me if i believed in magic a few days ago?” as you say this, you try to understand, finally pushing yourself up. you stay in his hold, still tucked into his wide frame, but now more level with him to better engage in a real conversation. it hurts a little to see the pain on his face, but it’s hard not to look at him either way.

he nods at your question, not even caring for now that you haven’t directly addressed his previous plea. “and so i decided to tell you. for a while i wondered if it would be better if you never knew at all. but i didn’t want to hide things from you and your answer was… it was… i was going to tell you today. i was going to surprise you with something small, right here.” his hand reluctantly leaves you to dig into his pocket. when he opens his fist to show you, it’s a tiny set of clothes, like the kind you’d find for small dolls. “these are my friend’s. he’s a pixie.” your silence makes him realize you must still be completely overwhelmed. quickly, he shoves the clothes back away and looks at you apologetically. “i’m sorry. this is too much, isn’t it?”

“i– so,” you struggle to find your words, “you’re telling me that magic is real? like the storybook kind? and you’re friends with pixies and there are horrifying shadow-men that try to capture you if you stray too far in the forest?” he cringes at that, and you want to apologize because you didn’t mean it like that. it’s just that you can’t seem to wrap your mind around this at all.

“well… yes.”

“oh.” you blink, once, twice, three times over. you try to let it sink in and he doesn’t say a word because he’s afraid of scaring you further. there’s silence for a long moment. “and… you. you’re magic too?”

he lets out a sharp exhale. “yes. i’m a dryad, a type of fae. a light fae. the shadowy man is a dark fae.”

you surprise yourself when you start to feel a hesitant smile try to find a way to your face. “and this is your tree?” you look up at the grand branches of the rustling willow.

he can’t hide the small smile of pride when he answers. “this is my tree.”

“it’s beautiful,” you marvel, as if you haven’t said so a million times before. but this time, the meaning is new, and once again, yeosang is dying to kiss you.

“thank you,” he breathes out, hopeful you’ll be alright, and hopeful that you won’t shut him out for hiding a whole entire world from you. there’s another pause for silence as you take in the tree with a new set of eyes, and he knows he’s in love with you when he sees the sparkle in your eyes. he feels like he’s ruined any chance with you after putting you in so much danger and throwing you into a world of the unknown and utter confusion. and here you are, staring at his tree with a wonder so pure in your eyes, as if he’s shown you the most beautiful thing in the world.

to you, that’s what it feels like, though. your brain may be running a million miles an hour and your heart may still be beating in fear, but magic is real. for you magic is real in so many ways, because to you, his dreamlike smile is a magic of it’s own, and now he’s really, actually magic. he is one with nature, in a way you can only begin to understand now, and even more deeply, he is one with the most majestic tree you have ever laid your eyes upon. everything about him is beautiful in ways you didn’t even know, but that you feel blessed to have been shown now.

and you struggle to even think that he’s to blame for not telling you yet. it’s true, you’d much rather not have found out the way you did, but how could anyone dismiss his hesitance? no one, when you belong to a species so destructive, especially to mother nature. not when it was because he was afraid of scaring you away. not when he didn’t know until just days ago if you would even be willing to believe in anything near fantastical. you’re honored to know he did intend on telling you, because you believe him wholeheartedly in everything he’s told you.

but a sudden series of doubts cross your mind. what if he’s been playing me this entire time? what if he’s not who he claims to be? what if he’s using magic to make me trust him… to love him, even?

but he interrupts those thoughts with his soft, careful voice. “you broke his spells, you know? those moments when you couldn’t move, you were under the influence of his magic. his kind is far stronger than mine. my magic is connected only to nature. i’d have a completely hellish time trying to break that kind of spell with my magic,” he admits before continuing, “and without any magic? well, it’s nearly impossible. but you did it. your mind is incredibly strong and full of light. of course, i’ve known that for a long time now, but you’ve just proven it to one of the strongest faeries in this forest. you’re practically magical too,” he muses, and every doubt is wiped from your mind.

“i thought of you,” you admit quietly, “and other things that i love.” the confession is subtle, but yeosang doesn’t miss it.

his voice is begging and oh so gentle when he asks. “can i kiss you?”

“please,” you breathe out. then he’s tilting his head closer and closer to yours, just like before, but this time he doesn’t get the faraway look, and this time his lips finally meet yours.

—

you thought that the faraway look would be gone forever once you found out about the world of magic. but it’s come back now that your days with him dwindle. it’s not that you’ve even addressed the end of the summer approaching, and therefore, your time with him too. but it isn’t hard to guess that he’s thinking about the fact that you’re leaving, and he’s not. what you can’t understand is the extra layer of sadness and regret. you can’t figure out what it means because somehow you know it’s not just the fact that you’ll be apart—though that part is plenty distressing to you.

you already knew that the end of the summer would bring a difficult goodbye, but now that he tucks his head into your neck when he’s shy and makes white dahlias bloom for you in seconds, you’re not sure how the hell you’ll be able to part with him. now that you see the way he glows when he channels magic from his tree and shows you fairy houses built into toadstools that are no longer lived in, you can’t fathom that you’ll have to go back to a life where he and his magic are practically a entire world away. now that he kisses your knuckles when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep under the willow with your head on his shoulder, you know that you’ll miss him in a way you’ve never missed anyone before. and now that there’s no doubt in your mind that you love him, you wish he’d tell you the things he keeps hidden behind that unreadable look on his face.

you interrupt the sound of the breeze dancing through the leaves. “it’ll be alright,” you say, voice almost hushed since you’re still a bit afraid to talk about it. but the way you catch him looking at you sometimes has you desperate to comfort him.

“i know.” but his smile is anything but convincing.

“i mean it,” your voice comes out strong this time. “i’ll come back during all my school breaks and i’ll get you a phone so that we can talk while we’re apart. we’ll be alright, we’ll make it work.” you believe in your own words wholeheartedly, but you’re begging for him to do the same.

your voice comes out of his mouth almost at a whisper. “i– that’s what i want. i wish you’d never have go at all, but–”

“but what? there doesn’t have to be a ‘but,’ yeosang,” you argue without even hearing what he has to say. he sighs in defeat.

“you shouldn’t limit yourself.”

“sangie,” you plead, “don’t say that. i’d be limiting myself if i didn’t let myself have you. i’m coming back to you. just because i’m going to meet new people and have new experiences doesn’t mean i’m going to forget about you. yeosang, you’re unforgettable.”

“i–,” suddenly he looks away, avoiding your earnest gaze. the moment of silence that follows stretches out like an eternity, and you begin to fear if he really means it when he wishes you’d never go. “i’ll be waiting for you.” he says it like it’s a wish placed on a shooting star that you can’t see, like there’s still something being left unsaid. but the look in his eyes tells you that he means it, so you lace your fingers through his and bring his hand up to press a kiss to it like a promise.

you curse the early setting sun of the winter. by the time your parent’s car pulls into your grandmother’s driveway, the sky is as dark as it’ll get. you know that, realistically, you wouldn’t have been able to see him today, regardless of the color of the sky. but you can’t hold back just a bit of disappointment.

you let the feeling fall away, though, when your grandma welcomes you back to her home for winter break with open arms and a hug that’s probably warmer than the fire raging in her hearth. even now, you’re still struggling to understand why your parents never let the two of you get close until this past summer.

settling back into your summer room is easy and satisfying, pine cones and fairy clothes you couldn’t take back, gifted by him, still decorating the dresser. of course, this time it’s colder than you’re used to, but the extra blankets and knowledge that yeosang and his willow are right there lull you to sleep quickly.

when the morning sun chases you awake, you’re up with a grin, more glad than ever to get ready for the day and disappear into the forest. you can’t escape breakfast, but you can’t complain about it either, more than happy to taste your grandmother’s food and speak with her more again. and of course, your parents implore you to stick around to spend some time with family. you slip out the back door within minutes of that suggestion.

the snow coated trees are like a foreign home, undeniably familiar, yet different in a way you’ve never seen before. it excites you to realize that you’ll be able to learn about this version of the forest. the branches hang heavier, adorned with the snow that glitters in the cold winter sun. it seems that no matter what season, the forest sparkles in the light of the sun—and magic—to make it feel more like a dream than anything else.

you’re impressed by yourself when you’re able to still find the way to your summer meeting place, the boulder newly majestic with it’s blanket of whiteness. the whole journey is almost as wondrous as discovering magic; experiencing the forest in its snowy glory distracts you for a moment from the fact that the boulder stands tall … and alone. you’ve never seen the boulder this way. empty. there’s not a single time where he wasn’t there, waiting for you.

you try not to let your heart sink heavily into the pit in your stomach, but you can’t shake the way that it feels all wrong. it’s easy to tell yourself that there’s no way he would know you were here to look for. but you then remember what he told you, sitting up on that rock together, soaking up what sun you could. that he’s always there, waiting for you because he can feel it. he can feel you when you enter the forest. so why isn’t he here now? he promised he’d be waiting for you.

maybe it’s the snow, you consider. somehow even that feels like a silly excuse. but you don’t turn around, back in the direction of home. you search the paths that you can see in the midst of the snow, softly calling his name in hopes that it will be carried to him somehow. through the wind, the leaves, or the word of a fairy that you can’t see. you trudge along until you grow too cold and the hot chocolate in your thermos runs out.

—

two more days of searching through the snow, and your parents are beginning to question your daily outings into the forest that only result in a few pictures on your digital camera and a moody quiet from you.

your grandmother comes to your aid, serving you more soup for dinner and telling your parents about how much you adored the forest all summer long. this is the part where you think she’ll out you, tell them that you fell in love with a boy in the forest even when you made her promise not to say a word about it.

but she says nothing. even worse, does nothing. there’s no teasing smile or subtle wink from your end like you would have expected from her, the kind of reaction she always gave you when you talked to her about him. you tread forward with caution, as if testing new waters.

“so grandma, have you seen yeosang lately at all? how’s he doing?”

her response is strange enough to scare you.

“yeosang? you mean the young man who lives in the forest?” she relays this information back at you as if he’s some distant figure, someone you’ve rarely talked about at all.

“yeah,” you confirm, trying to hide any bewildered questions from rising hot into your throat and out of your mouth.

“why, i haven’t heard about him in a long while. i’d forgotten you met him over the summer. it seems i’m really getting old, aren’t i?” she chuckles, as if this is the most normal thing to say regarding the boy her grandchild gushed to her about for months. “but i do hope he’s holding up alright in this cold. we’ve gotten quite a bit of snow this year!” and with that, she starts going on to tell your parents about the snow from this year and last, and probably the year before that too.

you spend the rest of the meal in silence, quick to disappear to your room once your dishes are cleared from the table and washed. you find it difficult to wrap your mind around what happened at dinner tonight, wondering and wondering why the hell your grandma could seem to remember close to nothing about the boy you told her you love. for a minute you’re afraid that she’s getting sick, and that her age truly is what’s affecting her memory. but you think back to the first time you mentioned him to her and can’t help but feel an unsettling sense of deja vu.

missing him worse by the minute and growing increasingly worried for him and maybe even yourself—because what if you’ve made everything up in your head, what if it really was all the dream that it felt like it was—you resolve to finally attempt to make your way to his willow. the past three days, you’ve avoided the journey, afraid of traveling in that direction alone once again after what happened last time. but you know that if you’re to find him anywhere, it’ll be his home.

—

“sweetheart, you probably should stay inside today,” your grandmother advises over a hot breakfast. “there’s supposed to be a snow storm today, i’d hate for you to get caught up in it!”

“thanks, grandma.” you smile softly, trying to make her feel like you’ll heed her directions to lessen the worried crease of her brow. it makes you feel a little bit guilty when you know that you have no intent whatsoever to skip your outing in the forest today.

the moment you’re given the chance, you slip out the back door like you’ve done every other day, this time leaving a note in the living room for your grandma not to worry too much.

the forest is less glittery today, with the grey clouds stretching out to cover the vastness of the unseen blue sky. you set out in the direction that your heart knows better than your mind, trying to drown out the fear hanging in the back of your mind and the ache in your joints that comes from the hard work of trudging through thick snow.

when the snow begins to fall, you pay it no mind, solely intent on finding yeosang and unworried by the slow drifting down of the tiny flakes. but with each passing minute, the snow in the sky grows thicker and falls with determination rather than passivity. then, when you can barely see a few feet in front of you and it feels like your toes, fingers, and nose will fall off from the cold, you finally begin to wish that you had listened to your grandma.

what scares you even more is that, with the landscape so obscured, you’re not quite sure where you are anymore. a moment of panic overtakes you, and without thinking, you cry out his name into the silent air. it feels almost like that’s the only thing that could save you from the storm; if he finds you.

but that panic subsides into a more manageable pit of anxiety in your stomach when you try to push yourself back to rationality. you seek out your own footprints before they’re completely covered by the new snow and follow their faint outlines until they fade away. you don’t get too far, but you pray it’s enough to point you in the right direction. yet, your hope wanes as your exhaustion grows along with the hot pit in your stomach that you wish could warm your shaking limbs.

“yeosang?” you call out, quieter this time. “why can’t i find you?” you choke out, and suddenly you feel a lump in your throat and a burn in your eyes. but the last thing you want to do out here is cry and have your own tears freeze to your lashes and cheeks. “you said you’d wait for me…”

you hang your head as a feeling of defeat washes over you. you curse under your breath and force yourself to lift your head and keep going, intent on saving yourself. but as your gaze goes back to the white streaked landscape, the image of the dark trees and bright snow is interrupted with something moving towards you, quickly and silently. for a moment, you’re scared, but in the next you’re heaving a sigh of relief that comes out sounding much more like a sob.

you’ve barely taken a step forward before his arms are wrapped around you. his heavy breathing is loud in your ear and the brush of his cheek against yours as he pulls you into him is like a piece of heaven.

“yeosang,” you gasp out as your gloved hands clench the plush of his thick coat. he doesn’t speak for a long moment, just holds you as if he thought he’d never see you again.

“you’re shaking,” he whispers, pulling away from you to properly look at you.

you nod. “it’s cold,” you offer as a lame explanation while taking in the image that you’ve missed so much. “you’re so beautiful.” whether the flush in his cheeks is from the cold or your words, you’re not sure, but god are you happy to see it again.

his face becomes serious in a split second when he remembers that you’re shivering. your face had him distracted for a moment. “it’s far too cold for you to be out here right now, lovely.”

“i just wanted to find you,” you let your reason slip. now he’ll feel sorry about it.

and as you knew it would, his face falls even further, but the love in his eyes still grows. but he doesn’t scold you softly in the way you thought he would. he doesn’t tell you that you shouldn’t have been that reckless for him. not because he doesn’t care, just because he’s so relieved to see you. at least you’re safe now.

“let’s get you warm,” is all he says, pulling you into his side and guiding you to the closest shelter he knows of. he’s glad you wandered in this direction, easily taking you to the cabin he told you he lived in before telling you the truth about his magic. you lean into him heavily, letting him do most of the work in getting you there.

“thank god,” he mumbles to himself when he finds the cabin stocked with wood and matches. he sits you down in a chair by the fireplace and wraps you in the few blankets he can find before starting a fire. he tries to keep you talking as he removes your boots and damp socks, redressing your feet with his own pair. then there’s a pot full of water hanging above the fire that’s already starting to bubble with heat. he’s sitting at your feet on the rug, hands holding yours through a blanket to try and transfer some of his body heat to you.

“i missed you,” you mumble as you finally settle down, comforted by the heat of the fire that burns so bright in the hearth that it’s almost raging.

“i missed you, too.” his voice is hushed. it’s earnest, but he says it like it’s something he’s never supposed to be able to tell you. like he can’t believe he’s got you again.

“i meant it when i promised i’d come back for you,” you whisper, fighting the urge to fall asleep.

“i know,” he assures, “and i meant it when i promised i’d wait. i have waited and there’s not a day that went by where i wasn’t thinking of you.”

“so why didn’t you come to me when i first started looking for you?” you beg for him to answer in truth.

“my love,” he starts, cautious and afraid to say it out loud, as if he’ll jinx himself and unravel it all by admitting it, “you weren’t supposed to be looking for me. you weren’t supposed to remember me, at least not the way that we were. you weren’t supposed to remember loving me.”

you squeeze his hand and furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “what do you mean? how could i ever forget loving you?”

“magic,” he says simply, dropping the word heavily. “it makes humans forget, at least for the most part, about meeting creatures from our world to protect us. sometimes they’ll remember those of us like me, the ones that look like humans, but never more than a vague idea. it’s like a dream. so vivid when it happens, but quick to disappear from your mind once you’re awake and out of that world. so…you’re not supposed to remember anything much about…us.”

it all feels like a tall wave of stinging water, salty like the tears threatening to spill, surging over you and knocking you right off of your feet.

“why–,” your voice cracks, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he says, voice pleading. “if you knew, it would have been looming over your head like a ticking clock. i wanted you to be able to just be happy while we were together, i didn’t want you to worry about it. about me.”

“but it was looming over your head,” you cry, “you were hurting all alone, convinced i’d forget that i love you, and what? you’d have to love without me to love you back?”

he nods, and a tear slips down his cheek. “i loved you– still love you so much that i couldn’t push you away. as long as i could love you while you remembered me, i was alright with loving you when you forgot. i’m sorry for hiding more from you, i swear i am, but it was worth it to me. to let you leave me with hope rather than a final goodbye… i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.” the last sentence is whispered, as if it’s something he’s realized just now, that he didn’t say a word just as much for you as for himself. it breaks your heart to see tears flow from his apologetic eyes so freely.

“but i do remember you. and god, do i remember loving you. i’ve remembered you and the way you make me feel every day since i told you that you were unforgettable.” he looks up at you like you’re the most heavenly thing he’s ever set his eyes upon.

“thank you,” yeosang whispers through his tears, voice thick with emotion, “thank you for remembering. i don’t even know how it’s possible, but i thought i’d go crazy without you. i thought it would be fine, but it took everything in me not to go right to you when you got here. i knew i wouldn’t be able to act as if i didn’t love you more than anything else. i’m sorry i’m late.”

“quit apologizing and just kiss me, will you?”

his expression is relieved as he scrambles to his knees and leans in close to you. you lean forward, letting the blankets fall from your hands in favor of placing them on his cheeks and pressing your lips to his. you almost break the kiss when you feel a fresh wave of tears fall from his eyes, but you wipe them away gently with your thumbs, kissing him harder to prove to him that you’re really there. then his hands are on your waist, holding you tight and pulling you closer. the movement of his lips is practically desperate, and he wants to kiss you with all the gentleness that he can muster, but he just can’t help it when you’re right here in front of him.

“i love you,” he mumbles against your lips and cuts off your reply as he goes back to kissing you hard. he’s trying to get so close that he pulls you right off the chair and onto the floor, into his lap. “i need you,” he whispers with the softness he wants you to feel from him. your arms wrap around his neck and you think his kisses must have magic in them too when his lips are on yours again. it’s safe to say that you’ve warmed up by now. to catch your breath, you pull back and brush your nose against his with all the affection in the world. “yeosang, you are like a dream. just the kind that’s so beautiful and loved that i could never, never forget you.”

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simplysparrow14 · 28 days

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anyway fuck Liliana Temult, she gave up a good man (A good man!) for this ludinus-pedathos bullshit. HE HAD A FARM! HE HAD HORSES! YOU WERE LIVING EVERY GIRLS COTTAGE CORE DREAM!

#critical role #fearne calloway #ashton greymoore #critical role campaign 3 spoilers #critical role spoilers #orym of the air ashari #imogen temult #chetney pock o'pea

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savethegrishaverse · 3 months

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We’re back with our next round of prompts Third Army! This week (January 14th to January 20th) we want to talk all about “resilience”. The theme of always coming back, the theme of making things our own.

We will never give up, we will never die out. And to aid that we are going to give out prompts and boost content about our Grishaverse, and we need your help! Come join us, send us your fanfics, post your art, and make sure to use hashtag #Third Army so we can see each post!

Writing prompt: "Genya felt like a statue as she sat at the head of the council room's table. She felt marble and cold and distant, but David's hand was across the table and out of her reach. She was alone here as she prepared to give her speech, but she had to do her best. She had to make the Triumvirate proud and win over the councilmen of Ravka, lest they continue to claim Nikolai a monster."

Writing prompt: Why not make an “incorrect quotes” post for Shadow And Bone! It can be a modern social media AU or a text post from the canon era, whatever you prefer!

Writing prompt: It’s a staple in the fanfiction community, but for good reason. Take your favorite ship and throw them in a “flower shop right next to tattoo parlor business rivals” AU!

Art prompt: We've seen Dan Zollinger's art of the Saints, now draw your favorite Saint in your own style.

Art Prompt: Kaz says he will tear Pekka down “Brick by Brick” - let’s see that again, but with literal building bricks! Reenact a scene from Shadow and Bone/Six of Crows in lego form!

Photoshop challenge: Jesper says that maybe he likes Wylan’s stupid face - let’s photoshop that “stupid” face on all sorts of different things! The more bizarre the better!

Photoshop challenge: Let’s practice tailoring with Genya! Give the Shadow and Bone characters makeovers - maybe the Darkling is going through an emo/punk phase (it’s not a phase Baghra) or how about giving Alina a nice cottage-core makeover. Maybe even give Inej a kpop idol dream aesthetic!

Mixed Media challenge: Some of the iconic Crooked Kingdom book parts made it on screen, but not all of them! Why not draft up a gifsets/art/edit to show a Crooked Kingdom scene we haven't had on screen yet?

Video edit prompt: Compile together your favorite highlights and quotes for a "the Shadow and Bone cast once said…" video edit!

Question/Answer prompts: In the Lives of Saints, we learn to apologize and forgive - among other things. We also learn to stand our ground. Never apologize for campaigning for what you love, but maybe we should at the very least send an apology message to the poor Netflix social media managers who got caught in the crossfire of campaigning?

Every week I want to ask people to share happy/hopeful stories about Grishaverse and the campaign. Let’s talk about the friends we’ve made, the kindness in the fandom, and any moments of hope we can share to keep our spirits strong!

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blue-jisungs · 1 year

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cute dog and his (cute) owner

a/n. i just finished once upon a small town (bc it’s been recently added on netflix in my country) and I’M OBSESSED!! joy from red velvet? check. puppies? check. cute male lead? check. cute supporting actor? check. immaculate cottage core-like vibes? check. so yep, that’s more or less the inspo behind this piece <3

i’m not a vet nor i’m a specialist when it comes to animals so if anything is wrong lmk 😭😭

warnings. like one swear word ?? , gaeul is vomiting 🧍‍♀️

you let yet another sigh of boredom as your character in subway surfers tragically slammed onto the train. you looked up and glared at the clock. 2:47am.

being a vet was everything you could ever dream of. being a vet on a nighttime shift, however…

sure, there were some night you didn’t sleep at all. but night like this one, on a monday morning were usually peaceful.

suddenly the door slammed open and you heard two voices.

“you idiot-!”

“what? they looked heavier so i-”

“just shut up, riki. you’re the reason why we’re here at this hour…”

“guys, can you be quieter…”

“is this even open?”

“the sign literally said open 24/7. besides, the door would be closed if it wasn’t–”

“jay, you love to sleep and you were just woken up on a monday morning. we get it. can you stop acting smart now?”

seven voices, apparently. what the hell happened?

you stepped out of the office and saw seven guys, in their pyjamas. one of them was holding a white dog in his arms.

“uh… good morning…?” he says and you notice the dog’s rapid breathing.

“sunghoon, now it’s not the time to get shy…” one of them sighs and looks at you “i’m heeseung. we’re here because his dog ate a bit of chocolate and he’s overreacting–”

“he’s not. the dog might have got poisoned from what i can tell” you interrupt him and walk up to the owner, who’s looking at you with wide eyes “did it vomit?”

“who…? oh. gaeul. yeah, she did” he answers and you gently take her away from him. you can tell he’s nervous but who wouldn’t be.

“oh boy, she messed up the whole kitchen” someone says and you sent him a glare.

“this is your biggest concern right now?” you ask and turn around to go into your office. they follow you like lost ducks.

“well, no but i’ll be the one who’s going to clean it anyways…” he scoffs and then you hear a smack.

“jay, shut up. she’s right” another voice says.

“what kind of chocolate did she eat?” you ask, voice firm, as you look for the antidote. you hope it wasn’t–

“dark chocolate. i think. i’m not sure, i just saw a glimpse of it” someone else answers.

“fuck”

you turn around and realise they heard you and sunghoon’s face is turning white on your eyes. then you hear gaeul gagging.

“will she be okay?” her owner murmurs and you sigh at the sight of your floor being covered in vomit.

“hopefully– how much did she eat?” you ask and finally find the antidote. your eyes meet with sunghoon concerned one.

“it’s hard to tell. i only noticed when she was finishing it” one of them said and you noticed the owner blinking.

“okay. get sunghoon… that’s your name, right?” you ask and he nods. heeseung puts his hands on his friend’s arms “get sunghoon some water, please. and get out, i need to work”

and even after they leave and close the door, you can still hear them.

“sunghoon, sit down. i don’t want you to pass out…”

“i won’t, jungwon” he sighs and there’s a long moment of silence before he says “she’s cute…”

“oh my god, sunghoon! you were yelling at us ten minutes ago and now you already forgot about your dog because of a cute vet?!”

“yah, excuse you. i didn’t forget about gaeul, she literally got poisoned because of riki’s ignorance! and could you be quiet, sunoo? she might hear us…”

you let out a deep sigh and looked at gaeul who was peacefully munching on a snack. you took her gently on your hands and walked out of the room, heading to the hallway.

you stumbled upon an adorably sleeping sunghoon, lips slightly parted and his bangs falling freely on his forehead. you heard his friends left him here because, well, they had to go to work.

you firmly but not too rapidly shook his shoulder and he jolted his body, back straightening and eyes snapping open.

“hi” you whispered and he sent you a warm smile before looking down at his dog.

“gaeul!” he grinned and opened his arms. you handed him the dog over and as soon as she was in his arms, sunghoon started scratching her ear gently “is she alright?”

“yes. i’m not gonna lie, it was a very serious situation. but, as gross as it sounds, luckily she was vomiting almost all night so the poison is out. well, chocolate. because of that she’s highly dehydrated so please make sure she has some fresh water when you’re back home” you explained carefully, his eyes fixed on you “do you have a car?”

“no, i’ll order a taxi. thank you. how much is it–” sunghoon started searching for his wallet and his eyes widened. right. in panic he forgot to take his things with him.

“do you live far away from here?” you asked, seeing what’s wrong.

“uh, kind of. i mean it’s half an hour drive but on foot it would take much longer” he mumbled and looked at you, confused.

you grinned, nodding your head.

“i’ll drop you off. my college is on her way and i’m going home anyways” you explained and grabbed your keys from the countertop.

“really? woah, thank you so much” sunghoon sent you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen “oh, and i can pay you that way! i’ll just grab my wallet then and pay”

the ride to his place was filled with laughs. he turned out to be a pretty interesting person. you didn’t even realise when you arrived.

“remember to give her lots of water” you said, pointing at gaeul. he nodded, a troubled expression on his face.

“of course. can– can i have your number? just you know… if she gets worse… or something…” he mumbled, his ears reddening.

“sure” you grin and point at his phone. he gives you it and you type your private number along with the contact name. then you give it back to him.

“thank you. for everything. i hope you have a great day!” the boy nods, opening the door.

“thank you, sunghoon. and you too” you sent him a soft smile and pet gaeul’s head gently before he stands up.

sunghoon’s smile widens and he leaves the car. you watch him until he disappears in the entrance of the building and drive away, without realising how hard you’re smiling (or that he forgot to pay, again)

you hum one of your favourite songs underneath your breath, the cat purring and rubbing its head against your head - even though it was scratching you seconds ago. for the whole week your head was filled with thoughts about the tall, kind of awkward but absolutely adorable boy.

you were kind of nervous. yeah, he said you’re cute and he has your number but… it’s been a week and he still haven’t called. on the other hand, he seems shy so you’d understand if that took him a while. nevertheless, you still wonder if he will ever appear again in your life…

“y/n, there’s a patient!” your colleague calls from the reception and you sigh, putting the cat back to its cage.

“i’m coming–!” you announce as you open the door and literally freeze in the doorway when your eyes stumble upon him. a wide smile springs on your lips “hi”

“hi” sunghoon grins, fingers tightening on the pet carrier’s handle. you grin and walk up to him

“hi. is something wrong with gaeul?” you ask, worried. his eyes widen and then he lets out a nervous chuckle.

“well, you see–” he starts and you kneel down to look at the dog through the crates.

“she seems okay but…” you start and then he takes a deep breaths and starts spitting out words at the immaculate speed.

“she’s okay but i really wanted to see you and i forgot to pay last time, i felt so bad and also you’re so pretty and nice i was thinking if you wanna go out?” was what he said but all you heard was just a chaotic mass of incomprehensible words.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t quite–” you mumbled, puzzled. gaeul barked and you heard someone clearing their throat. that’s when you realised your co-worker is still here.

“should i just check up on the dog?” she asks and sunghoon freezes.

“no, she’s fine” he answers and takes a deep sigh, again “i just wanted to see you”

“me?” you ask in disbelief and stand up, looking at him shocked.

“yeah… well…” the boy mumbles, his confidence slowly disappearing. then you connect the dots with what he said earlier.

“you think i’m cute, that’s why?” you grinned and saw his cheeks flushing.

“don’t make me repeat what i said earlier” he mumbled and gaeul barked.

“i’m not. you know what? i think we should take her on a walk. and maybe then we can grab some coffee?” you ask, trying your best to fight your smile from widening. he nods eagerly, relieved that you somehow caught on.

“i’d love to– i mean… sure. and the coffee’s on me” sunghoon smiles sweetly and gaeul barks happily. really, how is he so adorable?

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @julaute

#enhypen sunghoon #enha sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon #enha scenarios #enha fics #enhypen x you #enha #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha reactions #enhypen #sunghoon #enha drabbles #enha imagines #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n

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modelbus · 1 month

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eyup model!! Hru?? Hope all is well… but lets get to the important shit, THATS RIGHT! ITS ME, YOUR SELF PROCLAIMED FAVOURITE ANNON, ✨🌌🌙!!! Y’know, the one that writes SUPER detailed, SUPER long and SUPER off-topic-for-the-first-half requests!!!! (If I keep this up for long enough, you’re gonna have to add a ✨🌌🌙 Annon section to your master list. /hj)

that makes me think about when I first requested, I wonder how long its been.. I THINK my first req was Cut Chaos.. one sec lemme check………

AYE IN 4(ish) MONTHS IT’LL BE A YEAR SINCE I STARTED HARASSING YOU WITH MY THINK OF BRAINS!

been a while.. I’ll need to remember to write a DUMB request in june.

SO. REQUEST. YES. I DO THAT? I DO THAT.

okay so idk how to format this but here,

She/Her pronouns for plot. y/n is honestly, REALLY bad at pvp, she’s know amongst the SBI for being.. a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but the wolf has no teeth. She likes flowers, pastel pinks, purples, and blues, she likes cottage core dresses and corsets.. So on the surface she looks like a pretty, little, innocent streamer!… yeah, no. Sure, shes pretty as fuck, but little? She is SURPRISINGLY TALL. half the fan base is fully convinced EVERY photo shes in is photo shopped, but sure enough, shes 6’4! Innocent? Say the words ‘Arson’ ‘Crime’ or ‘Manslaughter’, and you practically summon her. (Every SMP she has been on, has in-fact seen not only her enemy’s but HER OWN, Builds being blown up and/or burnt to the ground AT LEAST, 3 times.) shes also know for her ADORABLE builds (shame half of them end in ash..), her parkour skills.. and uh.. being complete garbage at anything pvp.

Well twitter being twitter, a lot of sexist 12 year old boys, and Andrew tate fans like to be.. REALLY creepy and all ‘perfect house wife’ about her. (You get the gist no more detail needed.) While they may not know it(they ignore it/pretend its fake), she’s actually quite strong in real life, often picking up her friends in irl streams and running away with them as a bit (with consent ofc)! But in minecraft, that doesn’t really show.. so naturally being the absolute fucking queen she is, about a year ‘n a half ago, she decided she was gonna be fucking great at pvp. Naturally not telling anyone but techno (so he could teach her, duh) and avoiding all pvp for a year, lead to people joking about it more often.. this didn’t bother her, it was actually perfect, she had been getting better. Like really. Danm. Better. Practicing even without techno and on an alt, and at this point? It felt natural to be disappointed at a 25 win streak.. she went from 0 to about 30-40 average win streaks.. in a year and a half.. she was dedicated, okay? Her fans did notice her getting a little rusty at parkour but they just assumed she had been to busy to practice as much.. they were right but not about what she was busy doing.. So, she obviously invited the sbi, and a few other friends (Tubbo, Ranboo and Dream.) to play a custom pvp themed game, with the stream titled ‘I haven’t pvp-ed in a year and a half, and now I’m doing it again.’ where they were split into two rounds, (y/n and techno being in both but the rest in one) all in hardcore and spawned on opposite sides of the map, having 30 minutes to gear up, before pvp was turned on, and no going to the end, no other rules than one hour to be the last one standing, they could team, they could camp, they could use tnt minecrarts, they could go to the nether, anything. it was all game.

only two people expected her to crush almost everyone. I’m not even sure if those two people were expecting her to come second one round, and WIN the other.. but with her getting half the kills in round one and losing to techno in a final battle where she held her fucking ground like a boss ass mother fucker, and winning after techno killed Dream and she ambushed him after using a god apple..

lets just say after a couple things trending, a lot of fanart and A LOT of sapphic women going crazy, nobody dared to question her dedication to proving she was a fucking force to be reckoned with again.

(It also became a very popular running joke that she got more women than any other Minecraft CC.. you don’t gotta include that just- just make it cannon.. oops, dropped my gay onto the request lemme fetch that rq..) (yes, I wrote this y/n as my fuckin dream girl, I’m a simp okay..)

haha.. ha.. BRO AT THIS POINT I’M JUST WRITING A FIC AND TELLING YOU TO RE-WRITE IT BUT MAKE IT GOOD I- feel free to change what ever, the top half is mostly just context- even if you don’t do this request you should reply to it so its not lost to the void- I.. I’m sorry man I keep doing this to you-

OH WELL JUST PRETEND THIS IS WAY SHORTER THAN IT IS OR IGNORE IT IDC EITHER WAY HOPE THIS GIVES YA INSPO POOKIE (the pookie was ironic I swear-) - ✨🌌🌙 Annon

For our one year anniversary I’ll make a special section of my master list just for you bbg <3 also don’t judge me for this title I was STRUGGLING

Pairing: what the fuck anymore Actual pairing: Fem!Reader x Cc!Phil, Cc!Tommy, Cc!Technoblade, Cc!Dream, Cc!Tubbo, Cc!Ranboo

Flower Power

You were pretty happy with who you were. A badass woman who just so happened to be the epitome of flower power? Hell yeah.

Fairy lights twinkle in the background of your setup, a wall full of vines and LED signs providing extra ambience. That’s not to mention the special keyboard—resin flower keycaps, they were on sale okay—alongside your setup in general. Even your mic had cute animal stickers on it. Well, except for the one Tommy gave you of his face? It was weird.

Right now, though, you aren’t at your cute setup. No matter how much you loved it, you were at least aware that you couldn’t send every waking moment at it. You weren’t quite that much of a content machine.

So of course you go outside to film vlogs with Tommy! Totally reasonable break from filming content: film more content!

Jokes aside, you loved hanging out with your friends. Getting dressed up just for Tommy to inevitably ruin it was practically your good luck ritual. The sheer number of skirts, shawls, and even socks he owes you is astronomical.

Today he had promised nothing messy (for once), so you took your chance. Pale blue corset embroidered with flowers and a flowy white skirt, you were practically screaming your aesthetic to anyone who looked at you. And Ranboo had given you a dandelion for your hair, which only added to it.

”Tall fuckers to the back for the photo!” Tommy shouts, and the poor bystander he roped into taking the photo stares. “Which obviously means me—“

“Get your short ass back in front.” You order, snagging his shoulders and forcing him in front of you. From your side, Ranboo snickers.

“Welcome to the club, king.” Tubbo tells Tommy before grinning at the camera.

“What the fuck.” He grumbles. “She’s hardly any taller than me!”

“Keep lying to yourself.” You put your elbow on his head, just to add insult to injury.

“Um, I got the photo I think.” The stranger says, holding Tommy’s phone out to him. He takes it without even looking at the photos.

“Thanks.” He says after you clear your throat pointedly to prompt him.

Seeing their chance to escape, the person just nods and hurries off without a single glance back. Probably glad to be rid of your wayward group of streamers and YouTubers.

“It’s a decent photo.” Tommy begrudgingly admits.

“It’s my cue to leave, actually. I’ve got plans.” Tubbo says, checking his phone.

“Why do you get more bitches than me?” Tommy whines.

“…it’s my mother.”

“And we all know I get the most bitches.” You jump in, high-fiving Ranboo blindly. You nearly hit his face, but that’s okay. It would’ve been funny.

“Oh shut the fuck up.” Tommy elbows you, all gangly limbs and pointy bones. “We’re playing Minecraft later, right?”

“Not me.” Tubbo reminds him.

“No shit. I was talking to these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll be on.” You lean over him, looking at his phone for the time. “You’re aware we need to leave if we want to make your stupid fucking steam time?”

He looks down, eyes widening. “Oh shit!”

Just for making you run home, you blow up his house on Minecraft. For the fourth time. It was ugly looking anyway, nothing like your adorable mushroom house, so he was practically begging for it to be exploded.

It’s his fault. Always.

“You really want to attack me from there?”

Your hands freeze on your keyboard mid-movement, making your character in game also freeze at Techno’s words.

“Not anymore?” You laugh nervously.

“Right answer. Try this again and I’ll pretend like I don’t see you.”

PvP training was going great, and by that you mean you’ve been killed every single time by one swing of his axe. It was no secret that you were bad at fighting. Your go-to tactic was to load up on TnT and hope for the best, which met… many criticisms.

And you were sick and tired of it. It’s time to reinstate your badass reputation and become a ruthless killer in a video game. Innocent bedwars players would never know what hit them! Hopefully, at least. Right now, you’re still working on that.

“Fuck!” You exclaim as Techno kills you yet again, the respawn screen flashing up.

“If you with to defeat me, train for another—“

“I’m trying!”

@ GenericUsername Anyone else notice that our resident flower girl has been avoiding PvP… poor girl is TIRED of being flamed

-> @ EatingLipSkin She deserves it for how shit she is for dying to magma blocks that one time

Slowly, so fucking slowly, you watch your bedwars win streak increase. Slowly, you watch your skywars win streak increase.

Somehow, against literally all odds, you’re learning how to girlboss PvP. Although when you told Techno that he seemed mildly confused, but you were definitely girlbossing PvP.

Which was exactly why you knew this stream was a good idea.

After a year and a half, you were hosting a huge stream with a bunch of your friends competing in a PvP tournament. Tommy insisted on there being a prize, so whoever wins gets the highly esteemed Tesco’s gift card you’ve had in your desk for five months. A battle of true honor, of epic consequences.

“Alright guys, so here’s my plan.” You tell your stream, mining some wood to craft basic tools. Everyone has 30 minutes to gear up, then it’s an hour till the winner is crowned. With the map having a small border, you’re counting on some cheeky kills from sneaking up on others. “I mine first, stock up on iron. Make a diamond axe if I can, but mostly go for lava buckets and backup gear.”

Your plan is put into motion quickly. With the new iron veins, it’s incredibly easy for you to get geared up within fifteen minutes. Venturing back up to the surface for food, you spot Tubbo without any armor killing sheep.

Perfect.

Sneaking to hide your name tag, you venture up a tree to get closer to him. You added a proximity mod, so you can hear him talking to his stream.

“We need lots of food, chat. All these guys— these guys don’t know the importance of food!” He’s saying. It’s a smart plan; if only you weren’t planning on killing him and taking his food.

“Hi Tubbo!” You shout, dropping down and killing him with a few swipes of your axe. “One down, just a few more to go!”

As people die left and right—most dying to you, to everyone’s surprise—you pointedly avoid Technoblade. The student will never surpass the master, after all. All your tricks came from his playbook and you really didn’t want to see how competitive he’d get for a gift card he’d never even use.

Dream was slain by Technoblade

Your eyes widen in surprise at the chat message, quickly stretching your fingers to press tab and bring up the list of players left alive. Only yours and Techno’s show.

“Oh no.” You breathe, freezing. “Oh God, chat. I have to murder Technoblade. I have to disassemble his organs and destroy his aorta.”

Suddenly, you’re paranoid as all hell. Randomly going into F5 as you kill cows, checking every angle.

“The student thinks she can challenge the master?” Techno asks, and you shriek in surprise as he digs up from below you.

“I fucking knew you’d say that! You predictable pig!”

“But you didn’t know where I was going to come from.” He points out. You know him well enough to detect the faint line of amusement in the words.

You groan, eating a steak. “Let’s dance, Technoblade.”

“Let’s die, actually.”

He comes at you with an axe, immediately disabling your shield. In retaliation, you swap to a fishing rod to lure him back in when he tried to run off.

As the two of you fight, you find yourself getting closer to your monitor, keeping your mouth shut as you concentrate. Fingers flying across the keys, you scroll to your lava bucket and attempt to burn him. By some miracle, he manages to avoid it and get a hit in on you.

“Oh my God.” You breathe at seeing how many hearts it takes. “Is that fucking enchanted?”

“Is yours not? Get good, nerd.”

You jump past him, placing a quick block to act as a barrier as you smack him with your own axe. Diamond, so it should make up for the difference in strength of his enchanted iron axe.

He loops around a tree, but you momentarily lose track of him. “Where the fuck—?”

As you notice your hearts depleting, you whirl around. Instead of doing the smart thing a retreating, you jump forward and crit him out. If he were any other player (cough cough, Tommy), he’d run. But he’s Technoblade. And all he does is crit you in return, killing you.

“Fuck.” You groan, leaning back in the chair.

<Technoblade> If you wish to defeat me train for another 100 years

Rolling your eyes at the chat message, all you can do is wait for the server to be reset with a new map and everyone living again.

You do the same tactic again, gearing up as quick as possible. It seems like other people have stolen your idea, but go about it in different ways based on the achievements. In the chat, you watch as Ranboo gets the achievement for entering the nether and then Tommy gets it right after.

“I will gift twenty subs if one of them isn’t dead within… five minutes.” You wager to your chat, laughing slightly. They’re still busy freaking out that you placed second last round, making you smile. “Guys, what’s wrong? You didn’t think I’d get kills? What am I known for if not manslaughter?”

A few minutes later—just under five minutes, might you note—Ranboo’s death message pops up. And then so does Tommy’s. Ranboo was killed by Tommy, but apparently Tommy burned to death? You can definitely picture his dumb ass walking into fire.

“Well… looks like I’m aiming for Phil.” You sigh. “I’d feel too bad to kill Tubbo again. But I’m not fucking with Dream or Techno— losing fights and all that.”

You start mining up to the surface, digging through some deep slate you had gone through. “Wait, is this wood?” You ask, scrolling to your axe to mine through the oak planks. You mine directly through a mineshaft, gasping in surprise. “Oh!”

There’s a chest in a minecart right in front of you, so you open it, hoping for some cheeky diamonds. You’ll even take wheat; food is food.

“Oh my God!” You shriek, probably bursting more than a few eardrums. “A god apple— oh my god! We’re fucking winning this one, guys! Cower at my name! But first we’re getting out of here before a spider kills me.”

You run around for a few minutes before stumbling into Dream and promptly running the other way directly into Phil’s house. Why he was building a house on a PvP server? You’ll never know.

“Oh, hi mate, what’re you doing?” He asks, hands empty of any weapons. You scroll onto your flint and steel silently. “Listen. We can talk about this. You don’t need to do this.”

“It’s too late, Philza Minecraft.” You answer, lighting some of the logs on fire. “Should’ve made it out of stone!”

Turning, you light the ground under him on fire then scroll over to your axe. He’s not expecting it, and although he gets a hit in with his empty fists, you still kill him.

“Just Techno and Dream left now.” You note. “Let’s just… hope they battle it out.”

To keep yourself occupied as you wait for the last five minutes before the borders shrink, you start setting cows on fire and collecting flowers. Poppies and dandelions fill your inventory, your little good luck charms.

“Alright guys. Someone go sneak into Techno’s chat and snitch on what’s happening for me.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Kidding, kidding. Don’t do that.”

Just as the one-minute warning pops up I no chat, Techno’s death message does. You gasp loudly, before grinning. “It’s my time to shine! I’ll avenge Techno!”

The world border starts to shrink behind you, but you’re already on the move. Knowing Dream, he’ll probably be in the center of the map. If you can catch him while he’s looting Techno’s body, you have no chance of losing.

“Stop saying good luck chat, I don’t need any good luck.” You grin, spotting Dream’s name tag. “I’ve got skill.”

Before you throw yourself at him, you eat your enchanted golden apple. If you trade blows, you’ll end up winning with the extra health. And two hearts is all you need.

“Ohhhh Dream!” You shout, catching him with a swing of your axe as you jump past him.

“AHH— what the fuck? Where did you come from?” He runs after you, making you do awkward jumping around to avoid his fishing rod.

“Stop! Stop that, I can’t— Dream!”

“Are you regenerating? Did you go to the nether?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile.

Because God apples don’t just give you extra hearts; they give you regeneration.

“I did one better.”

You hit him with your axe again, trading blows with him just like you thought you might.

“You’ve got to be low, how low are you?” He asks, hitting you again, but it’s too late. His body explodes on his death, his items flying out everywhere. You throw your chair back, jumping up and shouting.

“SUCK MY FUCKING DICK HATERS! I’M THE NEW PVP GODDESS AROUND HERE!”

@ WomenLover MOMMY? SORRY... MOMMY? SORRY

->@ TheRealBIcon dont be sorry we all thinking it she HOT HOT

@ S4pph1cSarah Anyone else see that fanart of her winning the PvP tournament… woo boy…. I’m… not okay…

@ S4pph1cSarah A thread of the HOTTEST fanart I’ve ever seen of our beloved streamer <3

@ SmexyWomenNearMe Me: “where is she?” “Her parkour skills are rusty how odd” “she’s streaming less” Her: “Watch this fuckos I’m badass and a killer”

->@ TwilightReference ”this is the face of a killer Bella”

@ CottagecoreBadass Can we talk about how dedicated she is? Like yeah she’s hot. So hot. But she’s also insanely badass and commited???

->@ CuteBuilder101 Best type of woman fr fr ->@ StarAnon Cottagecore + badass + chaotic force of nature = her (my dream woman)

@ StarAnon She really just drew all the women lovers outta hiding huh

@ ThisIsTheWriter Idk if I want to be her or if I want her but man. Oh man. I’m so bi.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #technoblade #tubbo x reader #tubbo #tubbo x you #ranboo x reader #ranboo mcyt #ranboolive #ranboo #philza x reader #philza

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dmitriene · 8 months

Text

— brighter than the sun pt. 2

ᴀᴜ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Leon Kennedy, a former USSTRATCOM agent who is now on vacation and found his home as a gardener in a country village, and whom you will meet due to a completely random coincidence in an attempt to escape from the bustle of the city. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: re4! leon x fem! reader ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: fluff, comfort, nsfw, smut, kissing, unprotected p in v, oral recieving, marking. ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: heyy! this is the second and the last part of my first series fanfiction, i hope that i made a good second part and that you enjoy this work! (also, big thank's and kisses to the specific people that support me no matter what 💌) please enjoy your reading) 🤍 (18+ warning)

prev ch.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ «i smile in the face of failure / i smile in the face of fear»

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ «cause i got a secret window / and i'm gonna take you there»

The days in the village passed like a dream, each one tinged with shades of calmness and deep connection, your rest turned into a tapestry of shared laughter, leisurely walks outside the village and intimate conversations by the pond, with each such moment your connection with Leon deepened, and the basis of your connections were strengthened.

After that tender kiss by the pond, there seemed to be a slight subtle shift, for all subsequent moments you spent together were marked by furtive glances, long touches and a palpable sense of shared affection, in his presence there was a comfort, a warmth that wrapped you in his arms.

Your conversations flowed effortlessly, a seamless mix of light hearted jokes and the occasional even meaningful discussion.

Leon's gestures spoke volumes, he could surprise you with freshly picked flowers, the colors and scents of which reflected the depth of his feelings for you, he combed a strand of hair behind your ear with tenderness that made your heart flutter every time, and he could extend a comforting hand when you are less expect all this, his touch will always assure you that you are not alone.

You and Leon spent your days endlessly exploring every corner of the small village, picnicking by the village pond and sharing quiet moments in the garden, the unexpectedly recreated union between you was a source of solace and each exchange of glances seemed to carry a whole world of untold emotions and thoughts about what happened between you.

But gradually the days turned into weeks, and your heart struggled with the upcoming departure back to the city, the thought of leaving the village and Leon along with it touched to the core.

One of the warm red stained evenings, while you were sitting on a swing on the porch, endlessly looking at the evening sky, longing squeezed your heart and your grandmother could not help but notice it, sitting not far from you.

— «I see the sparkle in your eyes, dear» she spoke in a gentle voice, making you pay attention to her before she continued

— «You've found something special here»

You nodded, heart clenched with gratitude for the precious moments and new acquaintances you shared here — «I'll remember those memories forever, Grandma»

She laughed softly, pulling you incredibly gently towards her, leaving a comforting kiss on the top of your head before her eyes drifted to Leon, who was fiddling with a colorful rose bush nearby.

— «And it looks like you found a kindred spirit here»

A soft blush instantly warmed your cheeks, followed by a shy smile and a soft laugh through your lips before you answered — «Yes, grandma, he was an unexpected and wonderful part of my stay here»

She instantly smiled, her hand reached out to your cheek in silent comfort as your eyes glistened following the wet veil before your eyes, when suddenly she muttered a comforting — «Sometimes the most precious moments are the ones we least expect, honey»

(...)

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon in a glow of pink and gold you sat on a wooden swing set on your grandmother's cottage porch, Leon's warm presence and his soothing touch on your fingers in an intertwined manner.

— «You seem to be thinking about something» his voice is a gentle murmur, provoking you to furrow your brows uncomfortably at the realization that you've sunk into your thoughts too much and you sighed, your gaze still fixed on the stars.

— «You are right.. it's just that this place has brought me so much peace and happiness, i don't want it to end, Leon..»

Leon turned to you, his eyes not only deep and piercing with their own brilliance deep inside, but now they were filled with understanding in return, and the breath finally took a hit as you silently listened to his words.

— «I feel the same way..you.. you've brought so much into my life»

His confession sent a warm shiver through your chest, wrapping your ribcage in a shroud of a little guilt and pain as you turned to meet his gaze, the tenderness in his eyes reflecting the feelings rooted in your own heart.

— «I don't want to say goodbye..» you confessed a little louder than a whisper, your voice trembled imperceptibly.

Leon's feather touch found your head, pulling you in and leaving a soft kiss on the top of your head, his touch gentle and soothing — «Then let's make the most of the remaining time»

(...)

You and him spent many of the following days creating a montage of memories in your minds, going out to dinner together in charming cafes, walking through the countryside full of laughter and stealing glances spoke volumes, the village seemed to shimmer with newfound magic, every corner of it promised another charming moment.

The next evening, as the sun began to set and bathe the village in a warm golden glow, you heard an invitation that filled your heart with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

— «I thought we could have a romantic dinner?»

Leon offered with a playful smile on his lips, though the nervous lump in his throat and the soft blush on his cheeks that indicated his embarrassment

— «As a way to make those last moments even more special, if you want to?»

You blinked sharply, the idea was like a dream, and you instantly nodded happily, making him smile awkwardly.

Together you cooked a delicious dinner, a fusion of flavors, lit candles cast warm light on the porch table, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and a soft symphony of crickets.

As soon as you and Leon sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was filled with intimacy and charm, the conversation flowed effortlessly, shimmering with general laughter and furtive glances, it was a night that seemed to be frozen in time, wrapping you in the warmth of the moment.

As the meal drew to a close and dessert was served, the air seemed to fill with unspoken tension, Leon's fingers touched yours, his touch sent shivers through your veins, and as soon as your eyes met his, your heart raced to the flutter of your eyelashes.

— «I don't want it to end» he confessed in a low and sincere voice, making you press your lips into a thin line of pure white

— «Me too..» you confessed too, your words are a pure echo of his feelings.

In the evening silence, under the cover of the stars watching you, Leon leaned over and his lips captured yours in a sweet and tender kiss, the kiss spoke of all the unspoken words, of all the feelings that blossomed between you during your stay here, and when your lips parted, you were enveloped in a sense of satisfaction, a feeling that screamed that this moment should be cherished.

The kiss was followed by a contented silence, the world seemingly disappearing as you huddled together, while the night in the background was a symphony of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves, the backdrop to the intimacy shared between you.

(...)

But, like all great trips, your vacation eventually came to an end, the reality of returning to the city loomed, and the prospect of parting touched your heartstrings as you stood in the light sunlight on the threshold of your grandmother's cottage, preparing to say goodbye to the countryside.

You stood in front of your grandmother, longing clutching your heart and ribs, she silently saw behind your growing connection with Leon, her eyes shone with a knowing brilliance.

Leon's presence was a comforting anchor, his hand finding yours as you both watched the sun rise, the moment was bittersweet, the calm of the village set against the uncertainty of the city to return to.

— «I want to stay so much..» you spoke softly, slightly dry because of the lump in your throat.

— «I know..» he muttered with regret in his voice before continuing

— «But i hope you know that no matter where you are, there will always be a place for you»

Tears welled up in your eyes and you leaned into his arms, finding sweet comfort in them, the connection established between you was undeniable and the prospect of leaving was heartbreaking.

As if sensing your thoughts, your grandmother joined you both, her presence soothing as she stared between you, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

�� «Love finds us even in the most unexpected places» she spoke softly

— «Cherish what you've found»

The words hung in the air, another confirmation of the feelings that blossomed in this place, and with a heavy heart you say goodbye to your grandmother, promising to return.

The journey back to the city was bittersweet, the memories of the countryside and the warmth of Leon's presence stayed with you, but as you returned to the rhythm of city life, a sense of hope remained, the promise of a future in which there was the possibility of reunion.

(...)

And so, when the weeks turned into months, you and Leon communicated through letters and phone calls, the chaos of the city seemed less frightening when you knew that you had a connection that went beyond it, your conversations were always filled with laughter and dreams.

In quiet moments when the chaos of the city threatened to overwhelm you, you closed your eyes, remembering the tranquility of the village and its flowering gardens, or reread the letters and remembered the warm touch of Leon, memories that will forever remain in your heart, bringing strength and comfort.

(...)

In one of the days that you could afford to dedicate to yourself, completely imbued with the atmosphere of relaxation and self care, while the aroma of fresh flowers hovered around the apartment, your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and as soon as you pulled the door handle uncertainly, feeling like you were not in your body, you found Leon in front of you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hand and a smile brighter than any jewels and which could melt your heart.

— «I couldn't stay away any longer» he said with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with the promise of what would happen next, as soon as he crossed the threshold.

Tears welled up in your eyes as soon as you pulled him in a strong hug, the feel of his arms around you was the comfort you needed so much, and the bouquet after his suitcase was long forgotten behind, the petals scattered on the floor in a light path, and his outerwear hastily forgotten in the farthest corner of the bright apartment.

(...)

Your spine curves in a trembling arc following an equally trembling moan, Leon's movements are deliberate and purposeful enough, positioning himself between your legs, his piercing gaze fixated on your wet and shiny pussy as his slightly rough hands gently part your thighs, exposing your most intimate places for his impatient eyes.

— «I didn't know you missed me so much~» his voice is almost a slight purr that makes you sigh sharply.

He leans in, his hot breath touching your sensitive skin, his tongue warm and skillful, slowly and painfully running down the folds of your pussy, savoring the taste and aroma of your arousal, Leon starts with gentle and teasing licks, and then gradually increases the pressure and intensity.

His tongue explores every inch of your pussy, moving and circling around your swollen clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he alternates between long, sensual strokes and quick, precise flicks, each movement designed to make you moan and gasp, wanting more.

As he continues his service, Leon's hands find their way to your thighs, holding you firmly in place, he enjoys the opportunity to please you, his tongue goes deeper, probing the depths of your wetness as he revels in your taste and feel, his artful tongue draws you closer to the edge.

His focus is unwavering as he literally devours you with his mouth, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink of ecstasy, he skillfully regulates his movements, tuning in to your body's reaction as he seeks to bring you to a stunning orgasm.

— «S' t-too much, Leon!» you moan loud enough, your hips thrust up.

His eyes twinkle with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger as he hears your words, Leon intensifies his efforts, his tongue sinking deeper into your wetness, his lips closing around your clit, gently sucking and flicking it, he feels the tension build up inside you the way your body trembles with anticipation under his arms.

With every swipe and twist of his tongue he brings you closer to the edge, he knows you are on the verge of release and revels in his ability to bring you to orgasm, his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you in place as he continues his relentless attack on your feelings.

And then it finally happens, a wave of pleasure crashes over you, engulfing your entire being as he continues his service, rolling you through the waves of your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure and your slight whining until it becomes almost unbearable.

As you descend from the climax, Leon slowly removes his tongue, his lips are glossy with your arousal, he looks at you with a gleam and almost hearts in his eyes, his own desire is noticeable just as bright, so you are not afraid to mutter

— «I want to feel you, Leon..»

He could see the determination in your eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a strong wave of desire, Leon wanted nothing more than to fulfill your request and give you the pleasure you so badly wanted, freeing yourself from the extra layers of clothing.

He kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours before descending to the soft skin of your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses and nibbles on your skin, his hands caressing your body, exploring every curve and hollow, his touch was both gentle and slightly possessive, he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes meeting yours as he entered you slowly, giving you time to get used to his size.

He moved slowly at first, enjoying the feeling of being inside you, wanting to make sure you felt every sensation, as he felt you relax and your moans of pleasure filled the room, he began to pick up the pace, thrusting into you with increasing intensity, his hands clenched tight the skin of your thighs, directing your movements in accordance with his rhythm.

— «L-Leon, mngh!»

With each push he tried to hit all the right points, trying to bring you to the peak of pleasure, while your bodies moved together he whispered words of encouragement and tenderness, his voice was filled with desire and adoration

— «T-That's it, you're so good, h-honey»

As your shared pleasure intensified he felt himself reaching a climax, but restrained himself, wanting to focus on your pleasure first, and finally when he felt your body tense up and heard your moans grow louder, he realized that you're close, sending you over the edge with a final deep thrust, making your body tremble with ecstasy.

— «H-Huh, f-fuck.. s' too good, Leon»

He continued to move inside you, riding your orgasm before finding his own release, his body shuddering with pleasure, filling you with hot ropes of cum.

After that, he pulled you close, gently brushing the hair from your face before kissing your forehead, he softly whispered sweet words of love and comfort, assuring you that you are safe and loved in his arms, he is here for you once and for all.

— «I'm glad i decided to find you» he whispered softly, caressing your ear with his warm breath before kissing your forehead gently

— «I'm glad to have you here, Leon» you whispered back, looking at him from under your fan of eyelashes before pressing your face against his chest

And so, in the heart of a city that once seemed overwhelming, you found a love that was both your refuge and journey, a meeting that would bloom further and take root deep in this place, like flowers in a garden.

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