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harunayuuka2060 · 17 hours

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Twst Unveil Event Part 7

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! How are you feeling?

Yuurin: I'm feeling better now after Leona-senpai forced me to take a nap.

Rook: *chuckles* As expected from Roi des Lions! He knows how to look after his underclassmen!

Yuurin: Anyway, Rook-senpai, our match is about to start. What are you doing here?

Rook: I'm here to wish you luck, Monsieur Tranquille.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: What place have you chosen, senpai?

Rook: The forest of nymphs.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Are you alright, senpai?

Rook: Why, yes! Monsieur Tranquille! Why do you ask?

Yuurin: Nymphs wouldn't normally allow strangers in their personal space.

Rook: Well, yes. However, after knowing that I am an acquaintance of yours, they have asked me of one thing.

Yuurin: And that is?

Rook: Your photo, Monsieur Tranquille!

Yuurin: ...

Rook: *smiling*

Philomela: It's time for our last match! Fighters! Are you ready?!

Rook: Oui!

Yuurin: Yes.

Malleus: I wonder what kind of place Hunt has chosen.

Silver: It's a forest.

Floyd: Eh~? A forest~?

Sebek: Hmph! It's nothing unique like any of us had chosen!

Philomela: *laughs* Nothing special, eh?

Philomela: Rook Hunt had to ask permission from the nymphs before he was granted an access!

Malleus: Oh. Is that so?

Philomela: Yes. And ah! It's Yuurin's favorite place!

Silver: Favorite place?

Philomela: *laughs* You will find out why!

*The forest of the nymphs*

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: Yuurin~

The nymphs: Yuuuriiiinnn~

Leona: *frowns*

Jack: There are voices calling her but I see no one there.

Ruggie: And on top of that, Rook is not on sight too.

Leona: That bastard is hiding. Grr.

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: Yuurin~ Forget about the match and let's play~

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: No, thank you. But I'll accept your invitation some other time.

The nymphs: You used to play with us when you were little...

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: If you lose against the French, will you play with us?

Leona: What?! They're going to support Rook?!

Ruggie: Hey, Philomela! I thought that forest was Yuurin's favorite place?!

Philomela: Of course! That's the place where he always goes missing!

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: HUH?!

Jade: Oh dear.

Philomela: Though that was before. Yuurin can navigate the forest now even if it changes its path.

Leona: *sarcastically* Wow, thanks, that's reassuring.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes. And I'll have an easy time losing if you disclose his location.

The nymphs: *giggles* Oh, but we promised not to tell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I see.

Yuurin: He won't show himself until it's the right time.

Philomela and the others: *watches Yuurin as she started to search for Rook*

Epel: Wow...! Yuurin is jumping on branches!

Floyd: Go, damselfish~!

Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: ...

Sebek and Silver: ...

Malleus: Hunt is chasing him.

Jade: Indeed.

Epel: Huh? Where?

Rook: *quietly follows Yuurin*

Rook: *chuckles to himself*

Yuurin: *sensing that she's being followed; decided to change route* *comes down from the trees and starts running*

The nymphs: Yuurin~

Yuurin: I need to find a clearing.

Rook: *starts to quicken his pace*

Yuurin: !!!

Rook: *begins shooting arrows while in pursuit of her*

Yuurin: *dodges them*

Leona: ROOK!

Jack: Isn't that against the rules?!

Philomela: Nope.

Jack: ...

Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: *are getting frustrated*

Malleus: Ten minutes have already wasted.

Silver: Yes. Time is flying.

Sebek: ...

Sebek: It would be unfortunate if Yuurin loses in this match.

Floyd: Eh~ You're just underestimating damselfish, crocodile~.

Sebek: DON'T CALL ME CROCODILE!

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! Your stamina is really impressive!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: This can't do.

Rook: Hm?

Yuurin: *suddenly stops and faces Rook*

Rook: !!!

Yuurin: Please forgive me, but I'll have to make a clearing! *uses her wind magic to clear part of the forest*

Rook: Whoa...

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: You'll pay for this, Yuurin...

Yuurin: I'm really sorry.

Jade: My, that was a strong wind.

Epel: But it didn't affect Rook-senpai!

Philomela: That's because he wasn't the target.

Leona: ...

Leona: Tch. *mutters* She should've sent him flying.

Ruggie and Jack: *hearing him* But she would get disqualified...

Yuurin: Rook-senpai, I have set the stage for us.

Rook: ...

Rook: *smiles* I appreciate the gesture, Monsieur Tranquille.

Yuurin: *in her fighting stance*

Rook: *approaches her quickly, aiming to grab her*

Yuurin: *dodges, then realizes that it was a feint*

Yuurin: Huh?

Rook: *sneaks behind her; doing a Full Nelson Hold* *lifting her off the ground*

Yuurin: !!!

Floyd: Eh~?! He's copying my move!

Jade: *chuckles* However, it looks more effective when he's doing it.

Floyd: *pouts*

Floyd: Damselfish! Do something and escape the hold!

Rook: *chuckles* You're doing well, Monsieur Tranquille. *tightens the hold*

Yuurin: ...

Rook: You won't even show that you're struggling?

Rook: There is no shame in that.

Yuurin: Rook-senpai, you are forgetting...

Yuurin: That I'm not your prey.

Rook: Eh?

Yuurin: *the muscles in her arms become more visible and prominent as she grabs his hands, breaking them apart*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille, you know very well that our strength is—

Rook: *is losing the hold*

Rook: —different...

Yuurin: *successfully broke free from him*

Rook: ...

Leona: HAHA! YOU'RE DOOMED, ROOK!

Jack and Ruggie: ...

Malleus: I've never seen Kingscholar this enthusiastic before.

Epel: Haha... Me too.

Yuurin: *about to take revenge on Rook*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! We can talk this out!

Yuurin: No.

Rook: But—

Yuurin: !!!

Yuurin: *falls to her knees*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille?

Yuurin: ...

Philomela: THE MATCH IS OVER! IT'S A TIE!

Ruggie: Huh? What happened?

Philomela: The nymphs have intervened.

Philomela: Look.

The nymphs: *have surrounded Rook and Yuurin; with a few holding Yuurin in place*

Leona: Are they going to hurt him?!

Philomela: Hm. Fortunately, his godmothers are there. I'm sure they will just lecture him for destroying part of the forest.

Everyone: Oh...

Leona: How about Rook?

Philomela: They will let him leave.

Philomela: Anyway! That's all for our wrestling competition!

Philomela: Too bad Yuurin wasn't able to finish it off! *laughs*

Them: ...

Yuurin: *has returned with kiss marks all over her face*

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: ...

Leona: Looks like they gave you lots of smooches, huh?

Yuurin: *nods*

Leona: ...

Leona: *laughs*

Ruggie and Jack: *sigh*

Philomela: I thank everyone for participating in this wrestling match! I had fun watching you all!

The audience: *cheers*

Philomela: And now that it's over! It's time for celebration!

Philomela: Eat! Dance! And drink all you want!

The students: YEAH!!!

Yuurin: ...

Silver: Everyone is lively.

Yuurin: Oh, hello, Silver-senpai.

Sebek: Hmph! Why did we have to change our clothes?!

Floyd: Ooh~ It's breezy~.

Rook: You look gorgeous, Monsieur Tranquille!

Leona: Hey! Fuck off, Rook!

Malleus: Congratulations, Yuurin.

Yuurin: Thank you, Malleus-senpai. But I didn't win.

Jade: It's a tie; however you could count that as a win since Rook Hunt asked you to talk. *chuckles*

Rook: Oui! If not for the nymphs, I would've lost!

Epel: Yeah... Yuurin looked like he was about to beat Rook in a pulp.

Ruggie: Yeah! Shishishi!

Jack: Yuurin, we should do our own wrestling match next time.

Yuurin: Sure.

Philomela: YUURIN! COME HERE AND SING A SONG FOR US!

Yuurin: ...

Everyone: You sing?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes. But the songs I know are not suited for this occasion.

Philomela: YUURIN!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *sighs* What do you want me to sing?

Philomela: "DONE FOR" AND "THERE ARE OTHER WAYS" FROM THE EPIC MUSICAL!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Are you kidding me?

Epel, Ruggie, and Floyd: *searches the songs and lyrics* Oh...

Silver: What kind of song is it?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: You'll know.

Them: *after hearing the lyrics*

Them: ...

Leona: What in the world—

Epel: His voice is so good!

Floyd: Yeah~! I feel like I'm being seduced~.

Sebek: Huh! If you were in Odysseus's position, you have already failed!

Silver: ...

Malleus: Hmm... Isn't the one singing with Yuurin the nymph from the enchanted garden?

Them: ...

Ruggie: Damn— No wonder she's feeling it!

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst rook #twst sebek #twst silver #twst malleus #twst floyd #twst jade #twst epel #twst leona #twst ruggie #twst jack #twst oc philomela #twst unveil event

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gayhoediaz · 2 days

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of backshots and blunders

3.2k || E

“Fuuuuck.” The thick, long moan pours out of Buck’s throat as Tommy slowly sinks inside of him, stretching him out on his thick, long, perfect cock. It’s only the third time, but Buck is already completely and utterly fucking addicted. It’s as if he ceases to be human every time that he gets to have this - it’s just him, and Tommy, and a hot, roaring fire inside of him, craving more - nothing else matters. “Feel good, baby?” Tommy asks from behind him, his large, warm, callused palm caressing its way up his spine until it finally reaches his hair, massaging his scalp as he gives a slight grind, a sharp bolt of pleasure zipping up Buck’s spine as he pushes up against his prostate. It’s the first time they’re doing it this way - the first two times, Tommy insisted on having him on his back so he could check for any discomfort - and Buck certainly wasn’t about to complain about looking his hot pilot boyfriend in the eyes as he took him apart - but now they both know that Buck can handle it - beautifully, according to Tommy, which makes Buck feel all kinds of things - so for the first time, he’s on all fours, Tommy’s other hand keeping a firm, steady grip on his hip - and fuck, Buck thinks that this angle might be even better. “Fuck, yes,” he nearly laughs, rolling his hips back, pressing his ass into Tommy’s pelvis as he flexes his muscles, squeezing him tightly, using his insides to massage his beautiful cock. “Feel so good, Tommy,” he praises - and then, because he’s craving what he knows Tommy will grant him in response; “How do I look?” he asks, giving another roll of his hips, deliberately arching his back. “God, Evan,” Tommy sighs at that, the hand in his hair growing slightly rougher as he continues massaging his scalp, Buck practically purring like a cat, chasing the attention as he feels his other hand drift away from his hip, and down to his ass, gently pulling his cheek to the side. “Like my own personal porn star, fuck, kid, I can’t believe I get to have you in my bed,” he grunts, as he slowly pulls himself out - and then rolls back in, both of them grunting in unison, Buck’s sound trailing off into a whine. “So beautiful stretched out on my cock,” he adds on the second thrust - still keeping things somewhat slow as Buck feels his thumb drift down to his rim, pressing down lightly. Buck mewls. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he says. “Always so good for me, that’s all you ever want, huh?” “Yes,” Buck huffs, nodding sharply as he rocks his hips, enthusiastically meeting Tommy’s steady thrusts. “Can you pull my hair?” Most of their exploring has been fairly plain so far - which is not to say that it hasn’t been fucking fantastic - but they have both been a little bit more focused on Buck learning how to not choke on Tommy’s cock rather than whether or not they like having their hair pulled. This morning feels different, though - it feels as if they’re finally settling into each other, growing more comfortable. “Like this?” Tommy asks, immediately getting with the program, hand tightening into a fist, craning Buck’s neck just a little bit backwards. “More,” Buck pants, and then he swipes his tongue out of his mouth to wet his lips, but he doesn’t quite end up putting it back, instead he leaves it resting out over his bottom lip, eyes closed as he lets himself be controlled by the pleasure coursing through his veins. “Oh, more, huh?” Tommy pants, amusement painting his tone as his hand grows tighter once again, the pins and needles sensation tingling all over Buck’s scalp, just on the right side of pain as his neck is twisted even further back. “Yes, fuck, that’s it,” he praises, allowing his hips to grow even more enthusiastic as he slams them back into Tommy’s body, the thud thud thud soon echoing beautifully around the mezzanine.

continue reading on ao3

#bucktommy #911 abc #fanfiction #buck x tommy #brewrosemilk #niesfics #writing tag

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thesuperiorrobin · 1 day

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Last trimester~

Pairing: Husband! Damian Wayne x Pregnant!Wife! Reader

Warning: Mentions of vomiting, reader is like 6-7 months pregnant

Word count: 750

Damian is confused. Every inch of his home has been clean to the T, not a single dust left behind to stick itself on any surface it comes across. So why on earth are you still vomiting your guts out? It started once you had emerged into the third trimester of your pregnancy, everything seemed to be going smoothly, and you were lucky enough to only handle a handful of morning sickness and after a while, they just stopped. Maybe it was karma coming to bite you in the ass for bragging about not getting sick every five minutes and here you are now, sitting on the couch, relaxed as you lean back wearing a pair of black sweats and a shirt that was once too big for you rolled up over your stomach to show off its roundness.

A sigh escapes your lips as you soothe away the slight pain after the precious being you’ve been creating and holding for the past seven months has decided to be cruel and kick at you to stop. “Here you go Habibti” Damian comes from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hands as she walks over to you and passes it down to you. You take it from his hands with a small ‘thank you’. He notices that slight pain expression on your face as he watches you rub away at your belly. “Have they been given you a hard time?”

“Not as much as I’d like to admit,” you say as you take a few sips of water. Damian takes it upon himself, after watching you finish the drink he takes the glass from your hand—kneeling right in between your legs as he places the glass cup on the ground. You watch him with tired eyes as his arms lift and his warm hands replace yours; finding a spot on your stomach. His warm hands feel much better than yours, the context making you sigh out and your own hands find his to be placed on top of. Damian’s hands start to roam around your stomach, your head falls back slightly, and find yourself closing your eyes as you enjoy the warm sensation.

“I cleaned the bathrooms, kitchen, our bedroom, the baby’s bedroom, and any other spare rooms in this house” he mumbles, eyes never leaving you as you hum. “Thank you, but you didn’t need—“

“I do if unwanted smells have been making you ill” A soft smile breaks out on your lips, eyes still closed as you sigh for the nth time. “And besides, it’s the least I can do. I feel useless seeing you in such a state. I feel like I’m not doing as much as I should be doing for my pregnant wife” Damian can feel you grip his hands slightly as you open your tried eyes and glance down.

“Oh ~” you coo, “you’re doing more than enough. Trust me” he cracks a smile, hands leaving your stomach as they find a place beside your thighs. He lifts himself, but not fully as he leans over your relaxed from on the couch. His green eyes find yours:

“I love you”

“I love you too” and Damian leans down to steal a kiss, one that lasts for a while but is cut very short with a rough push on his shoulders. He takes a glance of concern. Your face is pale and a hand over your mouth.

“Bathroom?” He asked and all it takes from you is a nod and he’s rushing you into the bathroom. He holds your hair back, watching as you vomit up your breakfast lunch, and snack. You can feel his warm hand rubbing your back gently. Damian helps you up and helps you freshen yourself up.

“I don’t think he likes it in there anymore, think he just wants out” You poke at your stomach and wince when you feel a harsh kick “Rude”

“He?” Damian asked “How can you be so sure?” you and Damian are waiting for the baby to be born to find out the gender, so it’s unknown to both of you at the moment. “Call it a mother’s intuition” you shrug with a smile.

Damian pinches at your cheeks softly with one hand and the other finds a place on your stomach once more “I still think it’s a girl”

“Nope, it’s a boy. One hundred percent” he rolls his eyes, dragging you to your shared bedroom.

Where the hell have I been?😭

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian x reader #robin x reader #damian scenarios #damian wayne headcanon

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betweenlands · 2 days

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i need you all to listen to me. you know how youtube will sometimes randomly recommend videos with like, 58 views? sometimes the stars align and the fucked up algorithm does something right.

go out there and watch a smaller mcyter. sub-100k at the bare minimum, but ideally under 10k and even more ideally under 1000 subs. bonus points if they have in the low 100s to under 100 subscribers. watch whatever video you got recommended. watch another of theirs if you vibe with it. pick a specific series of theirs that you really like. subscribe to them.

now. this is really important. leave comments on the video or series you like. do a running gag if it helps remind you to comment. and more important than that: pick a story they're telling and engage with it. draw silly fanart even if you don't have any place to share it with them. write a tiny little story and keep it all to yourself. hype them up to your friends. get excited about this person's videos. if they do have a discord or whatever, send fanart, get involved in their community, et cetera, just --

i cannot stress enough how good it feels to have at least one tiny niche thing that's your special thing. it rules. the more you can get the better, in all honesty it doesn't even have to be an mcyter it could be an itch.io visual novel or something, just pick something obscure you stumble onto and hold it close and let it tell its story.

there will always be something there.

#txt #yt #orig #misc #yall i'm having emotions about ANOTHER niche mcyter (it's Ardendrus this time she's rad)#but seriously with us feeling kind of disconnected from mainline fandom stuff it feels really nice to have like #these small little pockets of ''i don't have anything to prove to anyone i want to talk about this because it's something that i love''#while i'm at it you should make an mcyt sona. even if you're never going to make videos in your life make up a guy. do it. trust me it rule #solar scraps

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disregardcanon · 2 days

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this probably seems like a weird question from your end,but why do fanfic writers care so much about comments? aos already tracks hits and likes, sorry ""kudos"", so why are comments such a big deal to the point that people will stop writing?

okay, so i'm going to take this question very seriously and i promise it's not to make you feel bad. this is a comprehensive explanation of reasons that comments are important for me, both as a writer and as a reader

engagement vs numbers game

seeing trends

buy-in

community building

engagement vs numbers game

let's look quickly at two different fics of mine. this is the kudos count for a fic called Of First Kisses and Burnt Lips

it's old. it's been up on ao3 for almost 11 years now. 258 people liked it enough to leave a kudos, 12 people liked it enough for a bookmark, and it's been clicked on 3,859 times.

i have no clue what almost any of these people on ao3 THINK about it. beyond "huh. sure. i'll kudos that". compare this to its crosspost on ffn, where i got 5 reviews

3/5 mention it being cute. 3/5 give appreciation to me for taking the time to write it. 2/5 praise the writing itself from the attention to detail with grammar to the craft. 1/5 is an "um..." which is hard to decipher but appreciate and 1/5 is a silly reaction, but it's a reaction! look, someone felt a felling reading my thing! that made me giggle!

looking at the stats here from a purely numbers perspective, my fic DID better on ao3. it got a lot more kudos than it ever got faves or reviews on ffn. but those ffn comments are still what i think about when i remember this fic.

sure, a shear number like hits or kudos can be comforting and motivating. i'm definitely not telling you to NOT leave kudos! but the fics that i've come back to, recently, are the ones where i don't have a lot of kudos but i do have a few people who are invested in the stories and leaving comments to tell me

2. seeing trends

lets look at a few of the comments on my fic The Maid of Honor Made Them Do It

so just in these two comments, we see both commenters hone in on the same detail: my choice to include a special christian music playlist that this characters' friends made for her. a few other people in this thread mentioned that same detail, so i know this bit really worked well! it's great feedback that lets me know that a good chunk of readers agree with my characterization here.

these readers zoom in on specific details that they really liked! things that made them laugh, the absurdity of the concept, enjoying reading it, and that they could see it staged, which is a HUGE compliment for a work in a fandom for theater.

i've always had trouble with imaging where characters are in a space, how they're occupying it and moving, and how to use that for characterization purposes. however, i got more than one comment on this fic about how people could see it staged! that means that i'm improving in an area that i've always struggled with. that's huge. it makes me want to keep working on this thing! it makes me feel like what i'm doing here matters, because lots of people are picking up on similar things! they're invested enough to give me a comment! and it makes me want to keep writing for the hatchetfield fandom because some people are invested in my work here. that is BIG! seeing trends in the way that readers experience your story helps a lot with writer buy-in for a project and also for writers self-analysis.

as a commenter: this helps me JUST as much. when i really dig into what i enjoyed about a fic to tell the writer about it, that helps me analyze and articulate the strengths and things i might want to take away from the storytelling, and that makes my writing better too!

3. buy-in

this is a comment on a series that has less than 100 kudos across three fics, but has thoughtful, appreciative comments on each work. it's called Melting Pot

the commenter deleted their ao3 account. they may be one of the people who commented on the next fic, which i posted recently. they might NOT have been! honestly, it doesn't matter that much to me. this person gave me a gentle and nudge about a fic that matters to me and mattered to them at the time, and they were part of the push i needed to get back to it.

from a commenter perspective, i know that hearing a kind word can help someone keep up their motivation to write, even when i can't write in depth comments the way that i like to!

just recently i only had the time to comment "nice update" on a favorite fic of mine called Teeth That Turn. but they know that i come and i read and they know and talk to me by (user)name. because they know i care about this thing they care about! and it's way more fun to do something like this when i know i can chat with the author about theories and thoughts and ideas. and this isn't a "wow aren't i so cool other writers like me! tehehe" bragging thing, it's just evidence for the case of why comments matter?

if i didn't want this to be a two way buy-in, i'd ONLY read published fiction, you know? we're all playing in the sandbox on the playground and i like what they made. they like that i like what they made :) we're scheduling a play date to fight with sticks after school my mom said it's okay!

4. community building

now i know that i just mentioned above here why i like being a commenter and how it helps authors, as well as why i like HAVING commenters as an author. i'm still arguing those things as a lead up to this section, where i have two other points to make about community building here too.

1. you can comment on OTHER comments! if you go through and read to see what other people are saying, you can agree with them. you can add some commentary! sometimes you can make a joke! and i've only ever had fun responses from something like that. authors tend to love that their fics are getting such a response that people are talking to each other about it! like look!!!!!! my thing got you to talk to someone else about it holy shit?!??!

2. commenting on fics in your fandom builds you a good reputation and makes other authors you comment on more likely to read YOUR fic. i'm not going to post any screenshots on this one because it would be embarrassing for everyone involved, but there have been authors that i really admired who gave my stuff a try after i commented on theirs. and they've told me that's why they tried it! like obviously it's not just networking or whatever, but it's really nice to have someone give your stuff a try because you've been enthusiastic and thoughtful about theirs.

and you make friends this way! fandom friends! who want to talk about your blorbos! you get to go on little play dates in cyberspace with cool people who like what you like. you don't ever HAVE to be a writer, of course. if you don't want to throw your hat into the ring or make art or edits or gif sets or anything, that's cool. no one ever has to participate in fandom outside of their comfort zone! but if you want to, you know that you'll feel more welcomed if you have some people in your corner for it, and making friends in a space, screaming about how much you love the characters you love, and remembering that fic authors especially are just fans too will help you feel like you "deserve" to exist in the space. maybe you don't write, but you go here too. you've got a space in the fandom and your comments don't have to be, like, perfect literary essays for authors to appreciate them and get a motivation boost from them still existing and us being able to go back to them and go!!! look!!! i don't suck!!! this person liked what i did so i'm okay! :)

#anons #writing things #ao3 things #the case for commenting

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utterlyotterlyx · 7 hours

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Eight

Summary - Eris and your court grapple with the realisation that you left in order to protect them, whilst in Velaris, it becomes clear that you aren't as clueless as you seem.

Warnings - angst, depression, slight fluff, mentions of wing clipping, manipulation, slightly possessive Eris, unhinged Rhys, soft Az and Cass.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The morning light drifting through the pulled back curtains was the catalyst of Eris' groan, he threw an arm over his face to shield himself from the pale yellow light fluttering through the room, a room that felt off somehow.

Frowning, Eris removed his arm from his face, squinting through his sleep-ridden eyes to peer at the person who was supposed to be curled into his side, head resting on his chest, and palms idly drifting over his skin. No one was there.

Had the night before been a dream?

Had he not basically confessed his love for you whilst you confessed that despite the distance that separated you, that you had knowingly chosen to soothe him Under The Mountain despite your own pain?

Eris tugged on that golden thread in his chest, wincing as it withered back to him, shivering in pain within his soul. Rubbing the spot over his heart, Eris realised that the bond hadn't snapped for you like it should have, like he thought it had.

Throwing the sheets from his frame, Eris' gaze darted about his former chambers, searching for any sign of you. He inhaled deeply, expecting your scent to flood him, but found his heart in his hands when only the faintest of trances of you lingered in the air.

Before Eris could truly lose his mind, he glanced toward the vanity, to where a singed square of parchment lay propped up against a bottle of perfume with his name delicately inscribed on the face.

He didn't need to read it to know what it said, but he had to, he had to see it for himself.

I can't let him hurt you. I'm sorry.

The page had wrinkled and darkened in places, and droplets of your tears stained the parchment in his fingers. The words on the page told him the answer to his previous thought, that the bond hadn't fallen into place for you, which in a way was better, it meant that everything you had felt and admitted was because you wanted it, not because you felt like you had to accept something.

Shuffling sounded from below, a smash of glass and a screech for Nesta, he moved to the noise, quickly fixing his briefs from the night before around his waist, his bare feet padding against the wood as he headed toward the commotion.

He heard Elain's words, he heard her mutter something about her vision, about snow-capped mountains and the dress that had vanished from its place draped over the mirror in your room. Red shrouded his vision like thick mist, his entire soul was threatening to rip itself apart, hating itself for not only letting you get away, but for also for not being able to feel you.

Every single fibre of his essence was searching for you, holding onto any speck of your scent that lingered in the air. He didn't even see Lucien through his haze, he only focused on the one person who knew for certain where you had gone.

Eris knew, but he needed to hear someone else say it.

The fox prowled ahead, fists clenched and eyes low, his molten bronze pools swimming with tamed fury as his soul remembered the touch of your lips against his, how you tasted of midnight skies and honey, it was peaceful. It was perfectly you. Dark but beautiful.

Nesta had frozen in place, the eldest Archeron surprisingly void of any words. Apparently you hadn't told a soul, that much was clear from the shock and hurt on their faces.

“Where is my mate?”

Eris’ palms lay flat against the countertop, the same one where he had held you only hours before, kissing you and telling you how badly he wanted to be worthy of you. It dawned on him that throughout that entire conversation, from your joint confessions to the kiss that confirmed everything he already knew, to sleeping in the same bed, you had already known that you were leaving.

Pain and sadness radiated on Elain’s features, her bottom lids pooled with unshed tears, and she fell back into Lucien who had crossed the room after Eris had brushed past him, “Wait, your mate?” Nesta took a step forward, her eyes growing wider as her mind span with the news.

Eris hummed softly, his eyes still cold and stoic, “I thought it had snapped for her last night, after we spoke, after the kiss,” his gaze softened slightly, “She’s gone back, hasn’t she?”

Nodding, Elain answered, “Yes. In the night,” after Eris had fallen asleep with you wrapped up in his arms, leaving him to wake up alone with a spot beside him void of life.

"Hold up. Your mate? Since when?"

Eris rolled his eyes at Nesta, running his hand over his face, "I think I've always known, but it was Under The Mountain when I accepted it. When she was walking the halls singing to herself," when in actuality you had been singing to him.

None of them could be angry or upset with you, you had done it to protect them, to make sure that they stayed alive and safe, away from any form of war or conflict.

“I can invoke the Blood Duel.”

It wasn’t an act that was taken lightly. The Blood Duel was a rarity, but it was also made for situations just like the one they found themselves in. Rhys thought that you were unmated, it was his main argument of focus, but he had no idea that your mate was itching to tear him apart. Eris could invoke it, and maybe, just maybe, Rhys would have no choice but to honour the bond and set you free before it was too late.

Lucien inhaled sharply, “She wouldn’t want that.”

“I can’t leave her there, Lucien.”

“We won’t,” Nesta moved to stand before the arched window, peering out at the pond which was shimmering in the sunlight, glittering even, “If I know her well, which I do, she wouldn’t have gone back without some kind of plan in place. That woman is the best tactician that Prythian has ever seen.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?”

Nesta turned to Elain who was equally as confused, they had left Velaris to follow you blindly, they were devoted to you, “She didn’t want us to get caught up in it,” a guess, but probably true. Nesta turned to Eris, “Don’t invoke the Blood Duel yet. I know it’s not ideal but maybe she knows what she’s doing.”

They could only hope that Rhys’ greed would glamour his senses, “And if she doesn’t?”

Eris couldn’t imagine it, what they’d do to you in that prison of a city. That other part of you had retreated each day, the darkness bowing to the warmth and light of him.

Nesta felt Ataraxia call to her and she flexed her digits in return as if she was holding it, “Then we go to war.”

“It’s for your own good, y/n.”

Rhys was waiting with open arms the moment you had stepped up to where Autumn met Winter, Azriel must have told him of your movements.

Your heart ached in your chest, everything was screaming at you to turn back and find another way, but you had to protect them from the monster stood before you.

The winter chill caused you to shiver, the skirt of your dress tugging you backward, willing you to move away, to go back to where you were safe and loved, “Promise me that you won’t hurt them.”

Smiling, Rhys extended a hand toward you, “If you cross that line, they will be spared.”

“Promise me. Promise me that you won’t hurt them, and if you do, the price will be your life.”

Rhys wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were doing, “I promise,” a familiar burning coiled up your right forearm and you glanced down to see a fresh tattoo inked on your skin, “Now, come.”

A shuddering breath moved through you, you stepped over the threshold into Winter and his hands were on you immediately. They were cold and calloused, there was no softness or love in his touch, just pride to have won.

“I apologise,” you frowned slightly, “I had to take some precautions.” Before you could ask about what he had done, you felt cold rings lock around your wrists and neck, you felt the power evaporate from your body, and you fell to your knees.

Clawing at the collar moulding with your flesh, you whimpered, “What is this?”

“A gift from a friend,” Rhys crouched down to your level, taking your chin on his fingers, “I told you that your power was unnatural, now you can’t use it at all.”

The voices in your mind had wailed, they screamed in protest as the power of the collar consumed them, the air fell still and you felt weak, almost mundane as Rhys’ power pulsed around you, relishing in being the strongest thing to now walk the earth.

“It’s a blessing,” he cooed to you, ignoring the cries coming from your lips, you tried to hook your fingers under it, to rip it off of you, but you had no strength, and the collar was already embedded into your flesh, “We can be happy,” his eyes shimmered and yours dimmed, “No more fighting.”

Drowning. You were drowning and no amount of air that you were gulping down was saving you. You were lifted from the ground and cradled to a cold chest, and all you could do was glance backward at the border, at where Autumn called to you before the world before your eyes vanished in a swirl of colour and you found yourself looking upward at a sky full of stars.

Nothing felt real.

Every step he took filled you with dread, you recognised the incline of the path, you’d know it with your eyes screwed shut. Shuffling entered your ear shot as well as the sound of gasps, you were sure you must have looked tiny in his arms, your face was stained with tears, your skin had gone pale, your eyes had darkened and stared blankly downward to your hands bundled in your lap.

Black veins snaked from the stone cuffs melted into your wrists, angry and poisonous, devouring you with each passing moment.

“Az. Take her will you?”

The room stiffened, but the Shadowsinger moved to you, he slid you from Rhys’ grip and held you delicately. The change of your scent was undeniable, and Azriel was sure that Rhys commanded that he take you so that he didn’t have to smell Eris for one moment longer than he had to.

Velaris could do nothing to soothe you, the looming mountains could only watch sadly as Azriel carried you to your room at the River House, the stars blinkered away entirely at the solemn atmosphere that coated the city in your silent fury. The princess had returned, but she was powerless, a lone bunny stalked by wolves.

Cedar used to be your favourite smell, but all it did was make your stomach churn and twist in agony, everything inside of you wanted that scent to be one of pine and cinnamon, they wanted it to belong to the person who had never been afraid of you even when you had given him every reason to be.

The knots in your shoulders writhed, your scars screamed as your power depleted, but you couldn’t bare to soothe it, it was the only thing you could feel aside from nothing.

“It’s alright, y/n. Everything is going to be okay,” Azriel kicked your door open as softly as he could, and his heart shattered into a million pieces when a single look inside sent you struggling against his embrace.

Nothing had changed, it looked the exact same as it had the night you had left, like it was waiting to you.

“Please, don’t do this. Take me back to him. Please.”

You knew that he couldn’t defy Rhys so openly, so foolishly. Azriel set you down on the comforter and knelt before you, his fingers drifted along the edge of the black stone collar, where the stone met the newly marred flesh beneath it, “I didn’t know that he was going to do this, I swear.”

So that explained the gasps. It wasn’t due to just seeing you in the flesh again, it was because of the collar and cuffs burnt into your skin. None of them knew of what Rhys had planned to do, that being to drain the life from you bit by bit, starting with your power, until you bent to his will and became his submissive monster.

Hazel connected with your own, and Azriel saw nothing but a wilting rose inside of you, broken with no chance of springing back to full bloom. Sat before him was a shell of the woman he used to know, and he had dealt a hand in your state, contributed to it, and it disgusted him.

“Get away from me,” your words struck him like Truthteller had become lodged in his heart, you had never asked Azriel to go away, you had always welcomed him with open arms and soothing words.

But the captured animal in front of him wasn’t y/n anymore, it was the frightened creature that Rhys had plucked from the forest and condemned to a life of solitude.

“Please, y/n-“

“Don’t say my name,” your eyes welled, “You don’t ever get to say my name. You’re not him, you don’t get to call me that.”

Hold on.

A shudder flew up your spine, the first bit of comfort you had experienced in what felt like a millennia, “Get out.”

Sighing, Azriel rose to his feet, he knew that there was no consoling you, no words that he could muster to make the situation better. As soon as Azriel left the room, closing the door with a soundless click, you found yourself staring out of the window at the stars that used to lull you to sleep but were now glowering in warning.

The valley sang with golden light, it drifted along the streets where childish laughter blossomed, it should have been comforting, but nothing about the moment was good. Nothing about Velaris felt safe. Gone were the days where you would stroll along the Sidra with Azriel by your side, gone were the days of harmony.

Hugging your knees to your chest, your mind floated elsewhere, wondering how Nesta, Elain, and Lucien would react once they realised that you had left. How hurt they would be by your abandonment. And Eris, you were sure that he would be feeling the worst out of them all, wondering why his words and admissions weren't able to convince you to stay.

All that mattered was that they were safe, protected by the bargain inked upon your flesh.

The reflection in the window wasn't of anyone that you recognised, she was pale, her eyes a shade of almost onyx bar the circle of wildfire in the irises, black veins protruded from the collar embedded into the flesh of her neck, her hair was loosely strewn over her shoulder. The life had been sucked from her soul and she had been left empty.

"Don't think about it," a shaky whisper racked through your body and you hugged yourself tighter. You couldn't allow yourself to crumble at the pain and grief, "You can do this. They're safe. You can do this, for them."

For Eris and the Autumn Court, for your friends, for the continent, you could confine yourself to Velaris if it meant sparing them all.

Time passed, time where the world beyond the window darkened and the golden hue of the valley evaporated into the night air, and it was during that time when another soul deemed itself worthy enough to find you.

You didn't feel him at first, for you were too dumb to feel anything, all of your fae senses had depleted, you couldn't feel anything. It was as though Rhys had locked you in a prison of darkness, where no feeling resided, where there was no knowing of who was coming to see you or what was coming next. A prison of solitude that even the fire couldn't touch.

Cassian sucked in a harsh beath as he stepped into the room, the entire space was freezing, soft whisps of air flew from your lips, and you shivered on the bed as you held yourself tightly in your arms. The Lord of Bloodshed crossed the room, perching on the edge of the bed, wincing when you angled your body away from him.

In that moment, Cassian knew that Rhys had lost his gods damned mind.

"I'm sorry," he wasn't looking to you, no, he was peering out of the window, wondering at what point life had gotten so fucked up. Anger bubbled inside of him as the stone collar around your neck sang with the power it had trapped inside of it. A monumental act that proved exactly how far Rhys would go to contain you.

"Is this how it's going to go? Rhys sends you in one by one to apologise, do you think that's going to wash away everything that's happened?"

Heavy eyelids greeted him just as the scent of you mixed with another had the moment he had stepped foot into the room. "Rhys doesn't know that I'm here."

Interest piqued, you glanced to him, noting the slouch in his shoulders, the messily thrown together low bun on his head, how his wings drooped lower than they had before, you noted the paled hue to his skin and how he sat with his elbows resting on his knees and staring at the floor, "Nesta misses you. She says she doesn't but I know that she does."

"Is she alright?"

"She's safe. I made sure of that."

Unlike you, you seemed to say, and your eyes confirmed the message.

"If it helps, none of us knew that Rhys was going to do this. Feyre is horrified."

"It doesn't help me at all actually, but thank you for wasting your breath."

It was astounding how a voice could be so vacant, like the last of the autumn breeze before the winter pierced through it. Cassian wanted to know more, he wanted you to tell him about Nesta, about everything you had found, but he knew that you wouldn't tell him, because you no longer trusted him or saw him as anything but one of your captors.

"Did you know that he threatened to kill her? All of them?"

A low growl emitted from him, "He told me of the others," and left out the threat on his own mates life, "That's why you came back. To protect them from him."

"When are you going to realise that the real monster is the one that lurks under your own roof and not the one who ran away to be free of it?"

The silence was enough, Cassian wasn't blind to the information, his hard gaze softened and he tentatively placed a hand on yours, his rough fingers coiling around trembling bone. You wouldn't survive whatever Rhys had planned for you, you were going to die in Velaris and Cassian would have to stand there as Rhys explained to the world how the darkness had consumed you.

It would be Cassian who would have to stand across from his mate and the people you had come to recognise as your true family whilst Rhys told them of your demise. He could see their faces in the forefront of his mind.

"I think I already am," no one could deny how the ways of the Night Court had shifted since you had chosen to leave. Rhys had become a feral beast prowling in the night on his hind legs, obsessing over the thing that had run away from him. "I'll find a way to get you out of this."

Cassian rose from his perch without another word, his calloused fingers slid from your own, and he left. Silence fell on you, but you looked back to the reflection in the window, to the woman that was undeniably you, and smirked.

Playing too many games might get you in trouble, Fawn.

Rising from the comforter, you drifted over to the glass, lifting the latch and opening it a few inches, allowing the songs of crickets and rippling waters to flow to you.

The rich tone of the voice made you shudder, and you could have sobbed at the sound, at how close it felt to the shell of your ear, so close that the ghost of his breath fanned over your shoulder.

I wondered how long it was going to take you to figure it out.

You could hear his smirk through his words, Nesta. A pause. Are you alright?

Swallowing hard, you replied, I'm holding on.

You're not going to tell me what he's done, are you?

No.

The stone of the collar shone in the moonlight, the shrillness of the night air brushed along it and cowered at the ward placed on its surface.

Has he hurt you?

Finding your reflection, you exhaled shakily, struggling to find the mask you had become so accustomed to wearing, Yes.

The place that you had folded Eris into began to unwind, Y/N.

I can do this, Eris. I can survive one last performance.

Eris was no doubt pacing the length of his bedroom, hair wild and eyes simmering with leashed violence. It was a blessing that Rhys was clueless to the carranam bond between you and Eris, a bond that not even his collars could touch or absorb, it was other-worldly and transcendent, something moulded to your very soul, not your power.

Pushing the rumbling pain back inside of you, channelling it to be something much more monstrous, you felt the talons of your other mind rise from the well inside of you, water sloshing over the edges and flowing through your veins like a disease.

It was the only way to do what you needed to do, what had been so masterfully done before. The mask settled onto your features and you rolled your shoulders, welcoming the monster back to the forefront of your essence, grinning at the demon that had come to say hello once again.

The kindred spirit. The one who pitied you enough to instead harmonise with you rather than take over entirely. The one who gave her power to you to wield, who was now shaking angrily inside of you by the mere act of having such power stripped away.

You have set the stage so well, my pure thing. The talons scraped against your mind, breaking through the cracks and seeping into the emptiness inside of you. Let me take it from here, let me tuck you away into the brightest part of us where no one can hurt you.

Did they really believe that you had no idea what Amarantha had done to you all those years ago Under The Mountain?

It had been your greatest kept secret.

Smiling, you let the Queen take control, you let her guide you to the warmest place of you, where the people you loved most rested and you watched on as a bystander as she got to work.

The monster wasn't just you and never had been. You shared your body and consciousness with a queen of sorts, a demon contained in a small onyx stone that had been sewn into you whilst your body had tried to heal itself from the clipping of your wings. And instead of taking over completely like it should have, instead of devouring you, the demon sought to mould with you, it sought to become one with you, and you had let it.

And all you could do was hope that there would be enough of you left to bring back once you were both done.

Authors Note

Also realised that I really need to update my master list oops xo

Enjoy! Love you all 🫶🏻

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams@magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla @oucereeng @andreperez11 @demonicbusiness @megscabinetofcurios @superspideyparker @usernamesarelies

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absolutebl · 3 days

Text

This Week in BL - Thailand surprised me

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

May 2024 Wk 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 eps - I love love love Sol! Pink-haired baby idol blast from the past nursing a crush = absolute catnip for me. This is def my favorite Thai BL currently airing. And it’s probably because it has a sort of odd queer authenticity to both its gayness and its rep of the film industry. I mean, of course it’s sanitized into BL fantasy-landia, but there’s an underpinning of something real, for lack of a better word. Normally I prefer the fantasy of my dumb BL worldview, but in this one I’m kind of liking a little chew and grit.

All of which is to say: this is very fucked up messy gay, which normally I’m not wild about, but for some reason I’m really enjoying this version.

On the other side of the BL coin we have:

Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 1 of 12 - And I like it a lot. It’s fun and I’m enjoying it (possibly more than it deserves). I like how it’s a little absurdist. I like that it starts with a one night stand. I like all of the side characters. I love the asexual representation. Bonus LUBE! It’s a fun show. More FUN that GMMTV usually goes for.

Two Worlds (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 10 - The sketching in the cave scene was v sexy. And I’m enjoying this BL, but not for any other reason than MaxNat being MaxNatty all over my screen.

1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 12fin - I don’t know what I feel about this one. Mostly just indifferent. It was meant to be the paranormal Thai BL pulp about vampires that we were all waiting for, and it ended up just being boring. Frankly, I'd rather be pissed off than bored. 6/10

Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 4 of 12 - I truly love the naked lust on our side couple's pining friend's face. Usually only Japan get this thirsty.

Book is perfectly cast as Moo's older bro. They even look a bit alike but it might have been a mistake, because he’s so damn charismatic. Stole all the breath from the show for a bit.

We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 5 of 16 - No report until next week.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 11 of 12 - What a fantastic ep. This show really is killing it. I’m so happy with Taiwan right now.

Carry on.

Blue Boys (Korea YouTube) 3 of ? - It remains lovely and I remain enjoying it immensely. It’s very Strongberry feeling. That's always a welcome sensation.

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - They are so cute and pretty much just boyfriends already regardless of what they each think. I'm scared that next week is the final episode, it doesn’t feel like it’s gone very far.

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - I liked it a little better this week. I guess I’m warming up to this one?

Boys Be Brave AKA Roommates (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 3-4 of 8 - Ah poor lonely neglected child. They are all such weirdos. I don’t understand any of these characters or their motivations except they are strange kind of cartoons of... something.

Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 9-10 of 12 - The guy who plays the vet should be playing a vampire. That's it. That's all I have to say.

It's airing but...

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Memory in the Letter (Thai WeTV) - 6 eps, when it's done, tell me if I should bother?

You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - supposed to have started on Friday but I couldn't find it, I also didn't try very hard.

In case you missed it

GMMTV announced the second half of their 2024 line up. I got excited and picked my favorites, details + trailers here.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

May Releases

5/10 A Balloon's Landing (Taiwan movie) trailer - A frustrated Hong Kong writer, Tian Yu, meets a Taipei street gangster, Xiang (Fandy Fan from HIStory2: Crossing the Line), and the two of them embark on a journey to find the Bay of Vanishing Whales. Along the way, they discover unexpected twists and turns and close bonds, which brings out the message that "there is always someone like you in this world who is waiting for you.

5/16 Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Strongberry doing classic BL! Weeee!

5/19 OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 1 of 10 - LeeFrank are back - not unlike the undead (as it were). But how do we feel about it? Unsure given their track record.

5/25 The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer - HoTae & DongHee are back but unfortunately not in a cinema near me. Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS.

5/28 My Biker 2 (Thai movie YT?) - trailer

5/31 The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) - May not be BL

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love a shrimp peeling moment in my Thai BL. (Only Boo)

Unquestionably the best moment in BL this year. FIGHT ME. (Unknown)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

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simplyreveries · 2 days

Note

Hi hi I just seen your new post and I came running.

Feel free to deny or anything like that. This is a platonic Diasomnia with a gn reader who sees Lilia as a father figure and is around Silver's age and sees Silver, Malleus, and Sebek as brothers.

diasomnia

they're already a pretty tightknit group and family with one another, it's no different with you around. in fact, I'd say they have more of a protective nature, that's usually with someone like malleus or silver even if it isn't always obvious-- they're always looking out for you in each of their own ways. whether or not you reside in ramshackle, diasomnia is basically your home now since you're there most of the time.

lilia is his typical playful self with you, but since you're so close you him, yes you are succumbed to eating his "meals" that he so graciously goes out of his way to make for you. I guess it's the thought that counts. but the number of times he has made you treats like a birthday cake on special occasions and it being awful is too many times to count. also, its canon i think that lilia cuts his own hair and does silvers... he will 100% try to do the same to you be warned. he will want to dye it too.

he also gets genuinely proud and praises for things you've done well in... he is so supportive. but he has this attitude of already knowing that you could do it anyway. with all of his energy around you he also can be completely comforting and consoling for any of your troubles. you literally cannot hide anything from him, he knows you too well enough to have you act like something isn't bothering you and making you upset. truthfully, he is so keen and observant he probably will already know what the issue even is- but he'll gently remind you to let it out and be open with him.

malleus is more of the quieter type around you, that looks quite intimidating whenever he is lurking beside you. but he is as doting as he can be to someone like you, he holds dearly. you're one of the few people, along with the others in your little circle of family in diasomnia. he considers it to be precious and very special to him. it's funny how he doesn't seem to react any indifferently if you wanted to something as uncharacteristic for him like you make flower crowns from the courtyard and putting them on him.

as i have mentioned, yes, he does have slight tendency to be protective of you- he certainly has told you some of his... distaste for anyone in the school when it comes to anything romantic for you. and for the love of all things, it better not be someone like leona. I'd genuinely love to thing about how that would play out.

I think silver shows his care for you in ways such as teaching you how to use a sword and defense. he looks out for you like that, he does enjoy having someone to train and practice with anyway. he is slightly awkward when it comes to doing things like giving advice, but he wants to look more respectable and someone you can look up to in your eyes. It's just... he is a sheltered guy who has spent his life living with faes he has no clue how to navigate most social things too. he IS someone who will listen to you always though even if he doesn't have the words.

he trusts you a lot and always asks you to make sure you help him stay awake during the day-- if you catch him dozing off you have permission to shake or nudge him awake. if its you thats dozing off he'll mumble something about you "not getting enough sleep" but he lets you have your peace around him.

you're like the only person who can somewhat get away with teasing or messing around with him. like he'll always react upset btu you still can do it. he slightly changes his negative views and annoyances with humans, you're like this exception he's felt along with silver. he'll still grudging call you human but its not with the amount aggression he may have with others haha. like silver, he enjoys practicing the sword with you, but its more of a challenge that he enjoys having.

he also forces you to study with him if he feels that you're struggling, he tries to make it not seem like he's looking out for you. he always chastises you for always getting caught up into trouble with the other first years like ace, deuce, and grim. may or may not think they're a bad influence sometimes when it comes to what they get themselves in.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland #LOL kinda long mb #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #twst imagines #twst hcs #not proofreadd

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itsnotsoobiebobbie · 3 days

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HIDDEN FEELINGS - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

not fluent in english, forgive me for any mistakes!

genre: angst, fluff

photo credits: @renjwoo

Synopsis: The blue sky stretched infinitely above, dotted with white clouds like cotton, lazily drifting towards the horizon. The sun poured its golden rays over the idyllic scene, bathing everything in a soft, warm light that seemed to bring life to every leaf and flower.

In the distance, children laughed and ran, their happy giggles mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves. Couples strolled hand in hand, lost in intimate conversations, while the elderly reclined on wooden benches, soaking in the gentle afternoon sun with a serene smile on their lips.

Meanwhile, you hid behind a tree, tears streaming down your face. You were overwhelmed with the emotions that Cheol's confession had triggered. You cherished your friendship and didn't want to hurt him, but you also couldn't deny the feelings you harbored within yourself.

On a sunny spring day, you and Cheol decided to have a picnic in the park. You brought along a basket filled with delights, including sushi rolls he had skillfully prepared at home, and your painting materials. You had been friends since childhood and shared many passions, including art and cooking.

Sitting on the green grass under the shade of a leafy tree, you and Cheol began to paint. The park was peaceful, with only the gentle sound of birds and the whisper of the wind. As you dipped your brushes into the vibrant paints, you chatted enthusiastically about everything and nothing at the same time, enjoying each other's company.

To you, Cheol was more than just someone you shared laughs and conversations with. He was like an anchor in your life, a constant presence that helped you navigate the ups and downs of existence.

Every significant moment in your life was intertwined with his comforting presence. From the early days of school, when he stood up for you against bullies on the playground, to the summer nights spent chatting until the early hours about your deepest dreams and fears, you always knew you could rely on him.

Seungcheol understood you like no one else, even when you didn't understand yourself. You couldn't imagine your life without him by your side. He was an indelible part of who you were, a golden thread weaving through all facets of your existence. He challenged you to be a better version of yourself, always believing in you when you doubted yourself. His friendship was an invaluable treasure, a precious gift that you cherished more than words could express.

However, the feelings you harbored for your best friend went beyond friendship; they were like a silent storm roaring inside you, carefully kept hidden behind a facade. You couldn't help but feel your heart beat faster whenever you were near him, or smile wider when he told a silly joke. Every gentle gesture, every affectionate glance fueled the flame of your unrequited love, but it also filled you with paralyzing fear.

You feared that by confessing your true feelings, you might risk losing the preciousness of your friendship. The idea of jeopardizing the bond you had built over the years was like a tight knot in your stomach, causing you to retreat whenever you found yourself on the verge of revealing the truth.

Thus, you kept your feelings locked away in a deep place in your heart, holding onto them like a precious secret that you feared to reveal. You settled for being just his friend, even if it meant stifling the sighs of unrequited love that threatened to escape with every exchanged glance.

"Ah, what a beautiful contrast of light and shadow! I think I'll paint that imposing oak tree over there," you said excitedly, as you carefully observed the landscape.

"Sounds like a great choice," Cheol responded as he savored a piece of sushi. "That oak tree has an aura of mystery."

"And what about you, what are you going to paint?" you asked distractedly, as you dipped your brush into one of the paints.

"I think I'll portray the lake. I love how the water reflects the colors of the sky," Cheol responded thoughtfully, gazing out at the horizon.

Seungcheol felt a growing nervousness within him. He admired you not only for your beauty but also for your intelligence and kindness. Cheol watched you with a mixture of admiration and tenderness. To him, you were more than just a friend; you were the embodiment of everything he valued in a person. His eyes sparkled whenever you smiled, and his heart warmed at your mere presence. With each brushstroke, he found himself more and more in love with you. Finally, gathering all the courage he had, Seungcheol decided to open up.

"(Y/N)," he began, his voice slightly trembling, "there's something I need to tell you."

You looked at him, your eyes curious, waiting.

"I… I like you. More than just as a friend. I've fallen in love with you," he confessed, the words coming out in a whisper.

There was a moment of tense silence, where time seemed to stand still. You remained still, looking at Cheol with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Your heart began to beat faster as you tried to process what you had just heard.

You found yourself engulfed in a storm of emotions, a complex mix of joy, hope, and fear. Because, despite deeply wishing to express your feelings to him, you felt a tight knot in your throat every time you considered that possibility. You feared that a confession of love could ruin the precious friendship you shared. The fear of losing what you had built over the years paralyzed you, leaving you in a painful deadlock. You found yourself caught in an emotional dilemma, torn between the courage to move forward and the comfort of the familiarity of friendship.

Then, without saying a word, you abruptly stood up and ran towards the lake, leaving behind your painting materials and the picnic basket.

Seungcheol stood there, stunned and heartbroken. He couldn't understand what had just happened. Had he ruined their friendship with his confession?

After some time, you decided to slowly make your way back to where they were. Your heart was racing, but a silent determination shone in your eyes.

With each step taken towards Cheol, your resolve strengthened. You thought of all the times you had shared laughter, tears, dreams, and secrets. You remembered the moments when your gazes met, creating a connection that transcended friendship.

He was sitting in the same spot, with a somber expression on his face. As you approached him, you felt a lump form in your throat, but you forced yourself to take a deep breath and remember what you had decided. You sat down beside him, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry for running away like that," you finally said, your voice faltering slightly. "I… I don't know what to say."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with sadness. "You don't need to say anything, (Y/N). I understand," he murmured, forcing a smile.

Summoning all the courage you had, you said, "Choi Seungcheol, I feel the same way too. I like you, more than just as a friend. I didn't know how to deal with what you said… I was scared and confused. The reason I ran… is because I also feel the same for you, for a long time."

A smile of relief spread across Cheol's face, lighting up his eyes. You looked at each other for a moment, sharing a mutual understanding and a sense of relief for finally having expressed your feelings to each other. Without hesitation, he leaned towards you and kissed you gently. It was a kiss filled with tenderness and complicity, a moment that sealed your special connection in a new and meaningful way.

When you pulled away, your eyes met, shining with a mix of happiness and mutual affection. You knew you had found something special in each other, something that went beyond friendship and opened the doors to an exciting new chapter in your lives.

Together, you continued to enjoy the picnic as the sun slowly set on the horizon, illuminating your newly discovered love with golden hues and promises of a bright future.

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen reactions #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #s.coups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol angst #seungcheol au

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Apologies were in order when Eddie's true whereabouts were revealed, but would a rainy evening bring forgiveness or an even harsher storm? (4.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, misunderstanding, anxiety, self-deprication, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, brief touching, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter eight: mind your own business

A simple conversation changed everything.

Admittedly, it was not your conversation, but one you had eavesdropped on.

You had turned in the final exam for your Experimental Psych class, ruminating over any possible wrong answers as soon as your paper touched the pile on your professor’s desk. Did you get an abnormal amount of Cs in the multiple-choice section? Were your short answers detailed enough?

And then you overheard two guys talking in the hall, one sounding like he’d just chain-smoked a carton of cigarettes.

“Dude, what the fuck happened to your voice?”

“Lost it at a concert the other night. Totally worth it, though.”

“What concert?”

“Death’s Echo.”

You froze, hoping your sudden stop didn’t draw any attention to you. Death’s Echo had a concert? Where was it? Is that where Eddie was on Monday night?

Potential exam mistakes forgotten, you strode over to the guys on a quest for information. “Excuse me.” Your lips curved into your best customer service smile. “Did you say you saw Death’s Echo?”

The hoarse-voiced one nodded. “Yeah, why? You like them?” His eyes narrowed in assessment; you clearly didn’t embody his expectations of a punk music fan. A fair enough judgment, because you certainly weren’t.

“Where did they play?” You pressed, ignoring his question.

“Webster Hall,” he coughed, and his buddy laughed at his apparent pain. “You listen to them?”

“Yup,” you lied easily, not wanting to stick around and have him find out why a “fan” didn’t even know about a local gig. “Um, feel better!” You hurried out of the building, head spinning with this newfound knowledge.

Webster Hall. It was just over an hour to get there, which meant that the concert must have started late; a practice not unheard of for more up-and-coming bands. The prime time slots went to the headliners who brought in the most money.

If Eddie had gone to the concert on Monday, why wouldn’t he tell you? Did he think you’d be angry? Disappointed?

Or maybe he just didn’t want you to know he was blowing off work for a concert, you reasoned, and your opinion beyond that is irrelevant.

Should you ask him about it tonight? Could you? He might hole himself up in his room, ignoring your knocks and only coming out after your shift.

Maybe that was for the best.

His harsh words from last night continued rattling around your brain, barely taking a reprieve during the test. Honestly, you were grateful you wrote down actual psychological terminology instead of I am a total hypocrite over and over until self-deprecation filled the pages.

Tomorrow was your last official day of your undergraduate career, your own personal deadline for confessing the truth to your parents, and yet you were no closer to being ready than you were when you first made that silent promise.

The problem spun a web woven from neurons and synapses, its delicate threads slowly taking over your mind and catching the most daunting tasks.

NYU Essay revisions Graduation The motel Eisen’s Eddie

Too much. It was all too much, but you couldn’t shake them from their entrapment. You wanted to squeeze your eyes shut and only open them once everything had been resolved.

You had a fleeting thought of boarding the bus and remaining seated as it rolled past the motel, leaving it all behind and reclaiming your sanity. Running away was always an option, in theory; realistically, you would be overwrought with guilt before the bus made it to the next stop.

What you’d once considered loyalty was now stained with splotches of cowardice.

Maybe one day, you would be able to see yourself the way you wanted to be seen: as a trailblazer, a go-getter, a woman in pursuit of her dreams.

Today was not that day.

Rain streamed down from the clouds in thick sheets as though compensating for the week’s idle threats of stormy weather. It pelted against the motel’s windows like a steady drumbeat that wouldn’t be drowned out by your clock radio cranked up to its maximum volume.

Darkness loomed in the night sky, heavier than usual. Wind accompanied the rain, jostling the power lines and making the lights flicker.

If the electricity went out tonight…

You couldn’t finish that thought, not when the front door swung open to reveal Eddie, drenched from head to toe. His curls clung to his forehead, his cheeks, the back and sides of his neck; his chest heaved beneath a faded Black Sabbath t-shirt that was saturated with rainwater.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, unmoving and catching his breath.

This was your chance to apologize. To admit what you know—what you might know. The timing of the Death’s Echo concert could have been a coincidence, but your intuition told you it wasn’t.

Another awkward smile that didn’t reach his eyes, a tentative “hey,” and he was trudging past you without attempting to stop.

Opportunity went as quickly as it came. Every word you had planned had been scrambled like a tornado swept through your brain and left gibberish-laden debris.

The version of you that had confidently confronted him about smoking pot a few weeks ago would have scoffed at the way you failed to utter a simple apology. But this was much more complex.

Eddie’s forgiveness—if he forgave you—was only half of the battle. His blatantly false accusations about your work ethic had cut too deep to ignore.

Did he really think that little of you? Or was that his own defensiveness rearing its ugly head and taking over?

Then came a cry from down the hall.

“Of fuckin’ course!” Eddie boomed loud enough to be heard beyond his closed door. “Goddammit!”

You abandoned the desk, grabbing your essay papers and bolting to his room. He was at the window, violently pushing down on the pane, but it remained open. The shirt he’d been wearing earlier laid right next to the door as though he’d peeled it off as soon as he stepped into the room.

Your eyes landed on the dusting of hair that was now plastered to his pecs, another effect from the weather, the soft brown tendrils partially obscured by his demon head tattoo.

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him bare-chested. The night he had arrived, he answered your knock in only his Calvin Klein boxers. He was wearing Fruit of the Loom tonight, the elastic waistband exposed from the weight of his rain-sodden jeans.

Heat burned in your belly, a sensation you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

“Little help?” Eddie grunted impatiently, and you nodded, tossing the essay onto his nightstand among a sea of his own handwritten papers.

Had he caught you staring?

He moved over, bringing both of his hands to the right side so you could press both of yours to the left. The combined force was enough to smack it closed, the resulting burst of wind sending the papers airborne. They floated to the ground, paragraph-laden parachutes, but all you could focus on was the patch of carpet beneath you. It was completely soaked, visibly darker where the rain had seeped in, and it squelched under your sneakers.

“I’ll grab towels.” You started towards the door, pausing to scoop up a sheet of looseleaf that had landed near your feet. It was obviously Eddie’s; his was not as meticulously curated as yours, full of scratch-outs and barely legible, but the words you could make out were enough to pique your interest.

Want what I can’t have

She’s got me mixed fucked mixed up

You couldn’t read any more of it without him noticing, and you certainly did not want to get caught snooping after upsetting him, so you placed it on the bed as casually as you could.

There were extra towels stored in the supply closet, and you jogged back to the lobby, mentally calculating how many you’d need to sop up the mess. Taking as many as you could carry, you perched your chin atop the oversized pile and lumbered into Eddie’s room, dropping them to the ground.

To your dismay, he had put on a new shirt, but it did nothing to temper your thoughts of running your fingertips over his inked skin.

The air was now rife with the scent of burning tobacco, the cigarette between Eddie’s lips already smoked halfway to the filter.

“Thanks.” It was muffled and gruff, hardly an olive branch, but it was enough to tug the corners of your mouth in a tepid smile.

You wanted to stay, wanted to ask about what he had been writing, but Eddie snatched up your essay papers from where they’d scattered before you could ask. He shoved them towards you, leaving the edges creased where they crinkled under his grip.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t vandalize them,” he sneered. A gray cloud whorled from his lips as he spoke, but it didn’t hide his sarcastic grin.

You steeled your gaze and forced yourself to look just above the glowing ember and into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” You let your apology float downwards, watching for any indication of a softening expression, but he remained tense.

“You didn’t even bother asking where I was,” he spit.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, less abrasive this time. “I assumed...because you were so mean to Ben…” Any further explanation felt too much like an excuse, so you left the sentence unfinished.

Eddie’s chest deflated slightly, his bravado extinguished. He’d been expecting a fight, you realized.

You refused to give him one.

“Were you at Webster Hall?” Your voice deliberately turned up at the end, careful to pose it as a question rather than a declaration. Certainly not as an accusation.

Eddie flinched, his forefinger and thumb quickly pinching his cigarette to keep it from falling. “What?”

“Monday night,” you said. You pushed your right foot into the mound of towels, hit with a sudden bout of antsiness. “Was your errand seeing Death’s Echo play at Webster Hall?”

He said nothing, just looked at you. Really looked at you, assessing whether or not you deserved to know the truth.

The admission came out gradually, as if it was being met with resistance, pulled from a place so deep he had forgotten its existence.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Eddie took another drag from his cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs until forced out with a cough. “Wanted to hear how they sounded with their new, ah, frontman.”

Lower lip tucked snugly beneath your front teeth, you nodded. “And how did they sound?”

“Great. Really fuckin’ great.” His wry smile held more sadness than amusement. “Better than when I was with them.”

Your heart lurched. Without thinking, you reached out and took his hand, giving it just a little squeeze before letting go. “I know that’s not true,” you said. “I heard you playing on Sunday, and you’re good, Eddie. Not just anyone could pull off playing Metallica without an amp, but you did.”

You wished he could see himself from your perspective, see the man whose talent was too vast for a dingy subway station, whose music deserved to be heard by sold-out crowds at The Garden.

Eddie didn’t agree, but he didn’t disagree, either. His face remained neutral, and given the circumstances, you considered that a win.

“I can work tonight. Hang the new wallpaper.” A lightning-speed subject change, but you were becoming accustomed to seamlessly shifting tracks to follow his train of thought. “I’ll be back out as soon as I finish this.” He lifted the cigarette to his mouth again and you nodded, closing the door behind you.

Part of you expected him not to return. If his brain worked like yours, he would overthink the conversation, replaying it over and over until he’d wrung out all the positives and left it saturated with the negatives. He’d opt to stay in his room and smoke out his pack, leaving the wallpaper job unfinished. But you heard the door hinge creak and his footsteps pattering into the lobby.

One thousand words flooded your brain to form myriad sentences, from a joking long time, no see to a much more serious who were you writing about?

Ben thought Eddie had feelings for you, ones that stretched past the platonic confines. But he’d only met him once, briefly. He didn’t really know him.

Want what I can’t have She’s got me mixed up

Did you really know him?

Eddie had an endless list of things he couldn’t have, which often was the case for people facing poverty. As for the girl who had him mixed up, you couldn’t narrow that down, either. The only women you’d seen him interact with were Phyllis (an unlikely muse, but it wouldn’t be the most bizarre case of unrequited love you’d ever heard of), your mom (again, not likely), and you.

There was no doubt you had him mixed up. Maybe even fucked up, as he’d written and crossed out. But had you had enough of an effect on him to warrant poetry or song lyrics–

Song lyrics.

It all clicked into place: The band; more specifically, the drummer who happened to be his ex-girlfriend. He’d gone to see them play. He could have spoken to her, and maybe realized that a spark was still present. A real spark, not whatever pathetic flicker you might have felt that night when he’d held your hand as you removed wallpaper, or when you’d exchanged gentle touches after his unfortunate wasp’s nest encounter, or when he’d loomed over you in the subway car and a delicate dip in your belly made itself known.

You decided that this explanation, the one in which you had little to no involvement, held the most logic. His inspiration was his past love–potentially his current love–and your argument was a mere distraction from a much more complicated situation.

A natural silence fell over the lobby, a healing balm over the wound you’d taken turns picking at and reopening. It was the perfect setting to finish editing your essay, and yet you found the task impossible. Any threatening grammatical errors paled in comparison to the slight movements of Eddie’s back muscles, visible through his white cotton shirt as he smoothed down the wallpaper panels.

The pronounced flex of his tricep as he drove the paper cutter above the moldings with utter precision.

The soft grunt that escaped his lips as he pressed on his thighs to stand up and admire his handiwork.

You didn’t know how long you’d been staring at him before the slamming front door snapped you out of it.

“L-Looks good,” you managed, throat suddenly bone-dry.

Eddie crossed his arms, took a small step back, and nodded. Wide brown eyes scoured the wall for any uneven edges or unglued seams, his lips pursed in concentration. “Not my best work but, uh, it’ll do.” He smirked at you, then jutted his chin to your left.

A middle-age man stood beside the desk, rainwater dripping off of the slope of his nose. He held an umbrella, turned inside out and rendered useless by the wind.

“Sign out front says ‘vacancy.’” He grumbled and swiped at his bushy eyebrows, revealing a sliver of beer gut when he raised his arm. “Just need a room for the night.”

“Mhm, of course.” You found your footing with a polite smile and collected the stranger’s money, just as you always had, just as you were supposed to. Because you were at work, and that was your job–not watching Eddie hang wallpaper.

As you scanned the wall behind you for a key, a warm whisper tickled your ear, breath tinged with a smoky aroma. A shiver reflexively wiggled down your spine as Eddie spoke, your body unused to this level of proximity.

“Put him away from my room. He looks like a snorer.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter. Eddie was right; you weren’t quite sure what it was about the man, but he did look like he snored. Loudly.

You meant to look over your paper after your shift, but sleep was too seductive to resist. Just one more day, one more final exam, and then you were done. At least until August.

Summer stretched before you, and though you would still be spending nights behind the desk, your days were wide open.

Days that might be spent alongside Eddie.

There was no formal apology from him last night, a fact that nagged at you throughout the bus ride to school and prevented you from looking past the first page of your essay. That, and the burdens of shame both you and Eddie carried: yours from the blatantly wrong accusation, his from…what, exactly? Why was he embarrassed to tell you where he’d been?

The wound was still too raw last night to press on it, to ask further questions; instead, you kept the conversation light and airy. The only foray into dangerous territory came from Eddie himself when he asked about the vandalism at Eisen’s. You couldn’t answer fast enough before clumsily pivoting the discussion to the warming weather.

And maybe it was your inner people pleaser that craved reconciliation, needed it to unfurl and bloom like a budding rose, that lowered your guard and bade you to talk with him. But people-pleasing didn’t explain the warmth that crept through your body, lazily winding through your veins, when he laughed at your jokes.

That laugh–the gentle nose scrunch it evoked, the lightheartedness it exuded, how it chiseled away at the remaining iciness between you. It was all you thought about that night, your heart relaxing as the friendship was no longer in limbo.

But when you got to class and flipped through your essay one last time, that newfound homeostasis meant nothing. Yes, there were ten pages present and ready to be stapled, but unless your conclusion focused on angsty song lyrics, you were missing the final page.

Dread’s chill pricked at you, followed by an overbearing wash of heat. The granola bar you’d scarfed down threatened to make a reappearance.

Stupid. How could I have been so careless? All I had to do was check before I left home, but I was too busy thinking about Eddie to do the bare minimum.

It was a bad dream; you’d wake up and find yourself in bed with your full essay safely stored in your bag. All you had to do was wake up and page ten would be a continuation of psychological development in infancy.

Your eyes opened hopefully, but you were still in the classroom, and the page still beared Eddie’s sloppy scrawl:

I’m the castle She’s the queen Can’t be a king I’m too obscene

The lyrics a few lines down stopped mid-sentence:

Crushed beneath a broken dream Failed to launch now I

You were wasting precious time. If you left now, you could probably make it home and back before the professor left. You’d have to fork over the money for a dollar cab and forgo your afternoon coffee, but it was a sacrifice you needed to make.

Stupid stupid stupid—

Your name being called drew you from your pit of self-loathing. It wasn’t Nora; the voice was too masculine and too far away for it to come from beside you.

It was someone with the same name. Just a coincidence.

And then you heard it again. Loud enough so it echoed down the hall, but not frantic. And yet your heart fluttered in your chest.

Eddie.

There was no way; he couldn’t be—

You squeezed past Nora and thundered towards the door, trying to quell your hopes before they rose too high.

But there he stood, sweat pasting his hair to his forehead. His chest heaved beneath a white cotton undershirt that was tight around the biceps. Deep brown eyes lit up when he spotted you in the doorway, his lips curving in a triumphant smile.

“I have your paper!” Sure enough, your conclusion paragraph was clenched in his calloused hand.

You could have cried with relief. Fueled by gratefulness and residual adrenaline, you flung your arms around him. Your hands found his back muscles; at first tensed, almost reflexively, but quickly relaxed. The paper crinkling between your torsos jarred you out of the moment, and you took a step back before he could return the gesture—if he even would have.

“Sorry, I…” Words suddenly evaded you, eviscerated by the musky scent of his deodorant. He didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, all soft doe eyes and lazy grins from his unlikely heroism, but…still. Your relationship now teetered between employee and friend, and you couldn’t afford to knock it off-balance. “How did you get here so fast? And how did you find me?”

Eddie exhaled a chuckle. “Took a cab. And when I got here, I asked every other person where the psychology classes were.”

“You walked from where the dollar cab dropped you off?” How many blocks was that? No wonder he was sweating.

His cheeks, already flushed from exertion, tinged a deeper shade of pink. “N-No, I, um…it was a regular cab.”

Sheer disbelief widened your eyes. He must have dipped into his meager savings to shell out the money for an actual cab, putting him even farther behind in his journey home.

“I…” There were one thousand ways to finish your sentence.

I can pay you back.

I can’t believe you did this for me.

I am so sorry I ever doubted your character.

I wish we’d hugged just a moment longer.

You finally settled on a string of words that required no courage at all, just a genuine thankful smile. “I have your lyrics. Let me turn in my paper and I’ll grab them for you.”

Eddie’s timid expression shifted into one of amusement. “Shit, yeah,” he said with a laugh. “Was wondering where those went.”

Opportunity splayed out in front of you, tempting you to ask him about the woman who had him mixed up. Every cell in your body ached to know if she was the same queen he’d placed on a royal pedestal, unattainable despite his valiant efforts.

Was it fear or politeness that held your tongue? You weren’t supposed to see the lyrics in the first place; how could you justify your questions? Sorry I read your innermost thoughts without permission, but could I pick your brain about them?

Any doubts about your intentions were confirmed when he took the page from you, cocked his head, and asked: “What’d you think?”

There it was. Your opening. You could see it, practically touch it, your fingertips brushing the chance to admit that the songs’ mysterious inspiration gnawed at you—

But then he might ask why you wanted to know. And, quite honestly, you lacked the energy to figure it out for yourself. The desire was too strong to be nosiness, too personal to be gossip.

Not to mention the inexplicable sourness that burned your esophagus when you’d considered the high probability that he’d written them about his ex-girlfriend.

“Really good,” you managed. “I can’t wait for the finished product.”

Coward.

“Me, too,” he agreed with a laugh. “I’m sure the folks at the train station are dying to hear it.”

“The rats’ll give you a standing ovation.”

He snickered. “My biggest fans.”

A hand squeezing yours prevented you from getting lost in the slight dimple that appeared when he smiled. Nora now stood beside you, expression innocuous to Eddie or any other man, but her dark brown eyes silently asked, are you okay?

I’m fine, you replied with a squeeze of your own, grateful for someone who swooped in seeing you with a man she didn’t know.

“Nora, this is Eddie,” you introduced her. “He’s–he’s my friend who’s been helping us out around the motel. Eddie, this is Nora, best friend and study buddy extraordinaire.”

“Ahh, Wallpaper Boy.” Nora furrowed a brow. “You go to school here?”

Eddie cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “No, I…she left her paper, so…” He trailed off as though embarrassed by his chivalry.

“So now she can graduate!” Nora wrapped you in an embrace so tight that you briefly worried about your shoulder dislocating. She leaned in knowingly, her tone teasing with an air of seriousness. “And keep me company at the ceremony, right?”

You rolled your eyes, acutely aware that Eddie was watching the entire interaction. The last thing you wanted was attention drawn to the fact that you weren’t attending graduation. “Maybe,” was all you said, and Nora left it at that.

There was an awkward beat before anyone spoke again, and it was Eddie who eventually filled the silence. “Heading home now?” He asked you, already starting towards the building’s doors.

“No, I’m going to Eisen’s. I promised Ben that I’d help clean the graffiti.” You braced yourself for a volatile reaction, or at least something akin to annoyance, but his response was more surprising than any snarky remark.

“I’ll come with.”

Cocking a disbelieving brow, you did your best to keep your tone free of judgment. You were waiting for the gotcha, but you couldn’t let him know that. “Seriously?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, why not? I’ve got the day free, and I have some…expertise in graffiti removal.” He relented with a shrug when you and Nora exchanged curious glances, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “My trailer got hit a time or twelve back in the day. The tragic life of a Satan-worshiping freak, y’know?”

“But I bet the vandalizers were upstanding citizens.”

“Keys to the city and everything.” Eddie stuck out his hand, palm up, and you could see the details etched into his pale skin. Calluses decorated the pads of his fingers; you’d assumed they were mostly from guitar playing, but now you could add physical labor to their origins. He looked down at his hand, then back at you. “Shall we?”

Your own hands were suddenly slick with anxious perspiration, like a middle school student on her first-ever date. Even that juvenile scenario held more significance than this—two friends scrubbing down a hardware store was a far cry from the Sandra Brown romance novels you secretly devoured in high school.

And yet, you felt it—that soft electricity that crackled through your whorls of fingerprints when you slid your palm against his, the jolt of energy as he tugged you forward and laced his fingers with yours. If he noticed the nervousness that embarrassing seeped from your pores, he didn’t mention it.

Nora, ever astute, excused herself with a story about not wanting to miss the bus, but not before whispering in your ear, “he’s cute.” An approval that would almost certainly be followed up with a phone call later to discuss the fine details of the afternoon’s escapades.

There are no ‘escapades,’ you reminded yourself. You’re removing graffiti, not embarking on a Parisian vacation.

Eddie led the way until he reached the building’s doors, blinking as his eyes once again adjusted to the sunlight. “I, uh, I have no idea where we’re going.”

You laughed at his candor. “Follow me.”

It was an opportunity to break the grasp, to unleash the anxiety that threatened to cleave you and Eddie back into two separate pieces. He was dangerous because he was temporary; if you allowed him in even farther than you already had—beyond the confines of friendship—his inevitable departure would destroy you.

Let go. Let go. Let. Go.

And yet you kept holding on, adjusting only to take the lead. Eddie’s thumb brushed against yours, pausing just at the knuckle to press down in subtle acknowledgment.

Hi.

You pressed back with an accompanying smile.

Hi.

This time when you reached the subway station, you both jumped the turnstile.

taglist (now closed ♥):

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 day

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What is Broken IV (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader) Sneak Peek

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Author's Note: I felt like we needed a good dousing with a bucket of cold water after this weekend (and that FUCKING shirt), so consider this that.

What is Broken IV Sneak Peek

She was so light, his little wife.

Even while carrying their children – their sons – Aemond swore she was lighter than when he left. He held her close to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder and her legs draped over his forearm. With every step, he could feel more of her blood dampening his sleeve.

Gods, how much blood had he seen in the past year? How much had he spilled himself? There had even been times when he reveled in its coppery tang. But the sight her blood was nothing less than abhorrent.

He ran faster, until he was unable to make out the faces of those he passed, shouting for a maester to be sent to their chambers immediately. One of them must have been a servant. With luck, the maester would already be there when they arrived.

She cried out as he began to ascend the stairs, wincing with each step, her weak grip on him tightening. “It hurts, Aemond.”

“I know, my love.” He slowed down, though his pounding heart urged him to do just the opposite. “I’m so sorry. The maester will be here soon and he’ll help you feel better, hmm?”

“He has to stop it, it’s too early,” her voice cracked, and Aemond’s heart with it. “They’re not ready!”

But it couldn’t be stopped, not by man nor gods. Their children would be born today. The only question was whether they would survive. If their mother would survive. Her poor body was so weak, and her heart… he had broken that, too.

If any of them died today, that blood would be on his hands, and he would gladly accept his damnation to the worst of the seven hells.

#What is Broken #aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell

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candyfloss5000 · 2 days

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Stillness

Pairing: CX-2 (clone assassin) x AFAB reader

Notes: this is smut yall. The first smut I've ever written so don't you dare bully me 😭 (don't expect a masterpiece). I'm desperate for CX-2 fics so I wrote this.

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"Cuyir su." His native tongue slips past his lips, a gloved hand grasping tightly at your hip to keep you still after you tried to grind agaisnt him. Be still.

You’re straddling him on his desk chair, he's buried deep within you, rock hard but not moving, just using you to keep him warm while he writes his reports. A shaky sigh passes your lips and you rest your forehead agaisnt his chest that's rid of his cuirass for once, leaving his top half only in his body suit. When he's sure you're not going to move again, he loosens his hold and subconsciously strokes his hand up and down your side, relishing in how you shiver from even his lightest touch.

You lift your head from his chest, only to nuzzle his neck, placing the occasion kiss. After a minute, your kisses turn more hungry. Open mouthed and not afraid to lightly nuzzle your canines into his throat. His hand wonders into your hair, as he tilts his head to the side to provide you better access. He loses himself for a moment and let's you become his every thought.

"Cyar'ika." The hand in your hair tugs you to lean back from his neck and face him. "Be still. I can always just take what I want and leave you to satisfy yourself. Is that what you want?"

You shake your head with a pout. The threat is seemingly empty. The pair of you already have limited time together and you both relish in every second of it. He wouldn't leave you high and dry without knowing the extent of time he'll be away from you next...Would he?

A shudder runs down your spine at the thought, as you wrap your arms around his waist and hide your flushed face in his neck. A low groan rumbles from his throat when he feels you clench down on him.

For a while, you settle. You don’t know how long. He answers a few times when he’s hailed on his commlink, giving orders in the same calm, professional tone as he would any other time. As if he doesn’t have you on his lap. As if he doesn’t have to repress a groan at every involuntary flutter of your inner muscles.

Your hand finds its way underneath the hem of the top half of his body suit, subconsciously raking your nails across his toned abs and feeling how they tense. You know better than to ask if you’re allowed to cum yet, so you do your best not to move, even though arousal is pulsing in your core and you feel so wonderfully slick and full.

The day has taken it's tole on you and you can't help the way your eyelids droop. You drift in and out of sleep, all with his cock still in you. Still filling you to the brim. Beyond his prominent arousal, CX-2 feels a soft pang in his heart at the sight of you so content with him, so peaceful. The assassins takes pride in how easily you let your gaurd down infront of him. Since he has no memory of the man he once was, he can't remember a time where someone didn't fear him or try to make him fear them. He needs you just as much as you need him.

CX-2 is drawn from his thoughts when he feels the soft roll of your hips agaisnt his pelvis. You sigh and nuzzle closer against his neck. The datapad thuds agaisnt his desk and his bare hands - when had he taken his gloves off? - grasp your waist, holding you down to start grinding at just the right angles into your soaked core.

You give a shuddering, grateful moan, suddenly wide awake. Fuck, it feels so good to be so close to him, to have his cock thick and heavy inside you, knowing that no one will ever compare to him. Your assassin.

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rainbowsky · 2 days

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This is not a question, but a reflection. With this BF story, I thought a lot. And I think that as French, I don't have the same point of view. I was especially shocked by these words: “he must be educated”. France has a deep colonial past. and I thought: "we must educate these ignorant Chinese? but who are we to think that we are better and superior? we who today have so much hatred for them?" Each country has its point of view depending on his history. no need to respond if you don't want to. And thank you for your always respectful and thoughtful publications.

This is in reference to a previous post.

Bonjour lyndariell, j'espère que tu vas bien. ☺️

This is a perfect example of what I was saying about this being a very complex issue with a lot of different perspectives and angles.

In order to make sense of and come to terms with this issue we each need to find the right balance between upholding our own values and respecting the values of others. That's bound to be a tricky process because we're each coming from a different region, with different backgrounds, experiences and perspectives on the world.

Each of us will have a different degree of empathy and alignment toward one or more of the various stakeholders in the situation as well, based on our own experiences, interests and values.

In other words, it's complicated.

It is true that for some people, hearing so many white Westerners say that a Chinese man half a world away 'needs to be educated' on any topic might legitimately feel distasteful and wrong. There is this Western conceit that our values and way of life are superior and obviously correct, and that other nations are just 'behind us' in heading toward the same goals*.

*Although the same is also true going East to West.

It would be totally understandable if some people were to reject the Westerners' characterization of this issue and say that the choices that led to blackface being used in this film are not our choices to make. After all, the filmmakers are telling a Chinese story to a Chinese audience, and they know best how to go about that.

Fair enough. But...

Speaking of colonialism

While we're on the topic of colonialism shouldn't we also be talking about China and its role as a neocolonial power in Africa? As I said in my previous post, it's not really fair for us to look at things solely from our own perspective and in the context of the cultural environment we are in rather than considering the cultural environment this film was made in.

Have you heard of the Belt and Road Initiative? Actually you don't need to answer that question, because almost every turtle has definitely heard of it. GG sang a beautiful song in celebration of that initiative not that long ago, complete with a video highlighting some of the major projects involved.

I didn't post that video on my blog, but you can watch it here. All the bridges, trains and other infrastructure you can see in the video are projects from the Belt and Road Initiative; China investing across Asia, Africa and other regions to improve transport and trade (and to build on China's power globally).

I'm no @potteresque-ire, so I'm not going to break it all down in a meticulous, intelligent, well-cited masterpiece, but you can learn a bit more about it here. There are also countless online articles, papers, analyses, critiques, accolades, etc. from every possible angle out there if you want to dig deeper.

Some of the core strategy of the initiative involves proposing massive infrastructure projects in poor regions, loaning them the money to make the projects happen (loans in the billions), and stipulating that the contracts must be completed by Chinese companies. Resulting in countries with shiny new railways and hospitals built and paid for by the Chinese government and Chinese corporations, with these countries massively in debt to China for many decades to come and with deep trade ties to China.

Depending on who you ask, Belt and Road is either an exploitative, environmentally disastrous neocolonialist power/resource grab, or it's an innovative unifying effort to improve the lives and trade of its member nations.

I personally feel its a bit of both.

Whichever it is, it does have a very dark side. There have been many stories coming out of these regions, telling about slave-like working conditions and horrific abuse from the Chinese contractors toward their African workers. I made the mistake of researching this and let me just say that what I've seen cannot be unseen. There is a reason people make snide jokes about the "belt" in Belt and Road.

And that's just the Belt and Road Initiative. There are a lot of other Chinese individuals and companies going into regions across Africa to take advantage of the people and resources for their own monetary gain. I posted about one such example the other day.

So in considering imperialistic attitudes it's only fair to reflect on what it might mean for a Chinese person to wear an African ethnicity like a costume, in a country that is frequently racist toward Africans and which is thought by many to be exploiting African nations with a form of neocolonialist debt slavery.

Particularly when said costume leads to a massive increase in the amount of racist posts on Chinese social media, and with a tone of raucous mockery and disdain.

We should consider the impact of this film on Chinese attitudes toward Africa and Africans. Based on what I've seen on Weibo, in various articles and on international social media it seems like there is a strong colonialist 'white savior' narrative coming out of this film; glorifying China as swooping in and saving these helpless Africans.

Taken alongside the horrible racism of Chinese audience reactions to the blackface, I don't think looking at it through 'the other lens' gives us a prettier picture.

If the primary category of people who are not offended by this tends to be audiences who are reacting with racist mockery, then a deeper reflection needs to happen.

All that aside, DD isn't working in a vacuum. He has been actively cultivating an international audience and working closely with international brands. He doesn't have the luxury of ignoring Western values if he wants to continue down that path.

And let's not forget that the culture he's so enamoured of is black American culture. If he loves Western hip hop culture so much it would behoove him to better understand and support the people at the root of that culture. The people who literally made it possible for him to find and enjoy that culture.

DD is a good person at heart. I feel that participation in cultural harm is beneath his dignity, and not something he'd consciously choose to do if he had a better understanding of the impacts.

When it comes to culture clash and differences in values it's also important to remember that while everyone is free to make their own choices about what they say and do, so too is everyone else free to make their own choices about how to respond to what that person says and does.

DD is a massive star, so his behavior and choices go far beyond his own cultural environment. It's inevitable that some people are going to have different takes on it all.

And I don't feel like people are telling DD what to do, so much as they're talking about what he needs to do in order to maintain their support. They're drawing out the boundaries of what they deem acceptable as fans. From there everyone has their own choices to make, including DD.

My own position

Here's the thing: I've come under loud, vehement fire from black fans for not taking a strong enough stand on this issue, while some other fans feel I'm being too hard on DD. Now you're saying I should consider the colonialist angle and reflect on whether it's even appropriate for me to think DD has anything to learn.

I can only ever be myself, and speak and act from my own values. I will always think for myself and take my own positions, no matter how unpopular they are and no matter how harshly people attack me for it (and they have).

I am capable of holding multiple conflicting perspectives in my heart and feeling compassion for them all.

I empathize with black people who ***for fuck's sake!!*** have been so thoroughly fucked over on every level and in every possible way by people around them who just don't get it about racism. Who just don't get how deep and broad and far-reaching it is and about how soul-destroying it is to live in a world where this shit is normalized.

I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must be to be a black fan who loves DD and then see him in blackface, and then watch all the fans try to gloss over it as though it doesn't matter.

I empathize with Chinese fans who are in most cases probably not at all ill-intended, whose reactions came honestly even if they were jarring to Western fans, and who have mostly found this story and its telling both exciting and moving.

I empathize with diaspora fans who are having to deal with a whole bunch of sanctimonious lectures about who DD should be and what he should think, say and do.

I empathize with the filmmakers, who after all were probably just trying to give an accurate retelling of something that actually happened in real life.

I empathize with DD, who was likely doing what was requested of him and probably didn't realize that it would turn out to be so controversial or negatively impact so many people.

Anyone who can say with a straight face that they think DD would ever intentionally or knowingly do something that would be this controversial or that would be hurtful to so many of his fans can KMA. That's not the kind of person DD is at all.

Blackface is a huge deal here in the West, and even people in this region are constantly getting it wrong. How can we expect people in regions where it's not traditionally been a big deal to do better than people here who are steeped in awareness*?

*And before anyone says that cultural relativism is such that only people in the West really think blackface is wrong, why not try talking to some of the African fans who've been deeply upset by this?

This is what it is to live in the world. Life is complex, and people are messy. Like I said before; nothing is black and white. Everything is a million shades and hues. As much as people will try to oversimplify the issue and try to intimidate us into taking 'their side', or try to punish and attack us for not doing so, we can only ever live by our own conscience.

No matter how much pressure I come under to condemn one of the individuals or groups I listed above, I will refuse to do so. My conscience tells me to be compassionate and understanding to all of them, and that everyone is always doing their best.

I hope and believe that our differing opinions can coexist. We can disagree and still be friends, as long as we remain open to accepting one another, and as long as we respect each other's right to our own conscience and values.

Merci pour cet échange d'idées intéressant. 💛.

#your political disengagement is a weapon against you #ggdd controversies #ask

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