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yongility · 1 month ago

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NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 7/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

Warnings for this chapter: might be kinda long af cuz I don’t want to make this series long, so maybe we’ll have this chapter and two more for the finale. In this chapter we’re gonna get some description about Winwin’s trauma and accident, so it might be deep. Also NSFW, unprotected sex (don’t do it plssss), drug use, loooots of angst, police involvement (if that’s a warning lol)

To be dead while alive.

To live without feeling.

Or to watch your life pass before your eyes… unable to do anything. Winwin wasn’t sure which of those options was worse. Feeling his body trapped in a hospital bed, his mind awake but powerless, was a fate worse than death itself. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find any comfort within his own mind to give him even the slightest peace… It was like being trapped in a glass bubble, unable to touch anything, not even the people who still kept him company to this day.

He wasn’t even aware of how much time had passed since the accident, since the last reaction he managed to have, and since the last time his body had been connected to his mind… it might have felt like an eternity. In his mind, his memories of life before the accident grew blurry, as if they belonged to someone else. All that remained was emptiness. The present was a thick fog that never cleared.

He wanted to be able to do something, for himself, for his friends… especially for the memory of his parents.

He felt trapped in his own body, it was impossible not to think that. With every new visitor, except Jaehyun, Mark, or Lucas, he hoped that it would be the day he could finally do something to change his current state, but he seemed to betray himself. It was as if his mind was disconnected from his body, as if his soul were somewhere else, because no matter how much he wished to overcome it and regain some control over his life, he seemed broken enough not to be able to. He was a spectator of his own life.

Sometimes, when his friends came to visit him, Winwin focused on their voices, on every word and request, but it was inevitable to think that he wasn’t able to give them anything in return. It was like being dead while alive.

The worst part of all was not only the inactivity of his body but the inability to let go of the guilt. The guilt of not being strong enough to avoid the accident, the guilt of not being able to save his parents, the guilt of not being able to recover and be what everyone expected of him. There was no comfort, because all he could feel was that he was failing.

The clock on the wall seemed to mock (Y/N), marking each second with a coldness that unsettled her. It was the first time she found herself alone in that room… and she didn’t even know why she had mustered the courage to do it. Winwin wasn’t her friend. She didn’t even know about the situation he was in months ago… there was no specific reason that led her to that place.

Why am I here? she asked herself, looking at the white walls of the room. What do I expect to find? Visiting someone with whom I’d never had a close relationship? The truth was, she wasn’t sure… she could just blame it on curiosity if she wanted to.

The mere thought of seeing Winwin in that place, sunk into an almost eternal stillness, churned her stomach. Yet, a part of her knew this visit was more about understanding Jaehyun than about offering anything to Winwin. She wanted to make sense of what had happened—the tragedy that had left everyone around Winwin shattered, including Jaehyun. Perhaps, by understanding it, she could grasp why everything had fallen apart.

Maybe that understanding was what made her cling to the idea that Jaehyun was still capable of changing himself.

Winwin was there. Motionless. As if life itself had stopped flowing through him. She could barely make out the faint movements that indicated he was still alive, breathing, but somehow, it felt like he was no longer present. His face, so serene, stood in stark contrast to the turmoil she felt inside. How could anyone move forward after losing so much?

Unintentionally, her mind began to wander through memories of Jaehyun, the moments when he had spoken about Winwin—always with affection, with a loyalty that had begun to make her feel like an outsider. Jaehyun had made it clear how important Winwin was, how what had happened to him hadn’t just affected him but everyone who cared about him.

“They really miss you,” (Y/N) managed to say. “I don’t know if I should even be here, but… I guess now I’m also hoping you’ll go back to being who you once were.”

She waited for a reaction, but she knew there wouldn’t be one.

“I’m sorry for assuming you’d just moved back to China... I know we were never close, just classmates, but I shouldn’t have been so wrapped up in my own little world that I didn’t know what had really happened to you,” she said, her voice heavy with regret. The thought that Winwin was her age, yet the stark difference between them lay in how her life had kept moving forward while his had come to a halt, gnawed at her.

“The dance team really lost their brightest star. I wish I could have told you this under different circumstances, not after finding out what you’ve been through… but you really were the heart of that team,” she added with a soft, bittersweet laugh.

What am I doing here?

There was something profoundly unsettling about the situation, something that left her without answers. Yet, in that moment, she realized it didn’t matter how deeply she reflected on it or how sincere her words were—nothing could change reality.

In the end, all that remained was silence.

Silence.

That was all there was between them. Just the muffled echo of a room where even the machines seemed to breathe louder than Winwin. The tension in the air was palpable, an invisible hum that seemed to vibrate against the stark white walls of the room. (Y/N) sat quietly beside the bed, her eyes fixed on Winwin, who lay motionless, trapped in a body that refused to respond.

The words swirled in her throat, but at the same time, they felt utterly useless. Speaking to him felt like tossing stones into a bottomless well. Still, the faint movement she’d noticed earlier lingered in her mind. It was like a hidden heartbeat beneath centuries of stillness. She couldn’t ignore it.

Gently, she reached for his hand, as if afraid her touch might break him. It was cold, pale, with faint scars that told the story of his silent battle.

“I know you’re still there,” she murmured, her voice cracking on the last word. She wasn’t sure if she was saying it to convince him or herself. “I know you can hear me, Winwin.”

Her words hung in the air, unanswered. Closing her eyes, (Y/N) felt the weight of emotional exhaustion settle in her chest. She took a deep breath, searching for the strength she felt slipping away, and spoke again.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you this before, but... it’s okay to feel tired. It’s okay to not know how to keep going.” Tears began to stream down her face, unstoppable. “But please… don’t give up. Not yet.”

Trapped in the prison of his own mind, Winwin felt something. A spark. Small, but real. Her words seeped through the thick fog surrounding him. He had been in the void for so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like to feel. Now, emotions were beginning to stir, like a river slowly breaking free of its icy shell.

Inside, he screamed. He tried to move his hand, open his eyes, anything to show her he was there. It was a desperate effort, as if he were trying to break invisible chains that bound him in place.

And then, it happened.

A small spasm ran through his hand—barely a flicker—but enough for (Y/N) to feel it. She gasped, almost letting go in surprise. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, searching for another sign.

“Winwin?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Inside, Winwin couldn’t respond the way he wanted, but he clung to her words. They weren’t empty promises. They were a lifeline from someone who wasn’t ready to give up on him.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the darkness inside him seemed to recede just a little.

When Lucas received the call from the clinic notifying him that, once again, Winwin had shown a small reaction, he felt a spark of hope illuminate the darkest corner of his heart. It had been so long since anything remotely positive had happened that just hearing the word reaction seemed almost miraculous. However, when he arrived at the hospital and found the unexpected company of Hwang (Y/N), he couldn’t help but feel a mix of surprise and relief. He didn’t know her well, but at that moment, her presence felt like an anchor in the middle of a sea of uncertainty.

Lucas had tried to contact Jaehyun, leaving multiple messages in his voicemail. He knew how much Winwin meant to him and how much it hurt to be caught between the weight of guilt and helplessness. But while waiting for Jaehyun to arrive, Lucas listened to the doctor with all the attention he could gather, striving to process the words full of medical terms and uncertain possibilities.

The doctor cautiously explained that those small reactions, although minimal, could indicate that something was happening neurologically. That maybe, after so much time of apparent inertia, Winwin’s mind was beginning to respond. It wasn’t a guarantee, much less an immediate solution, but it was a spark of hope, something that gave them a reason to keep believing.

When the doctor left the room, leaving Lucas and (Y/N) alone with Winwin, Lucas took a moment to breathe deeply. His eyes rested on his friend, as motionless as ever, but this time with a different aura, as if something invisible was awakening inside him. He closed his eyes for a moment, thanking the universe, any higher power that might exist, for this small victory. As tiny as it was, it meant the world to him.

“Thank you for being here,” he said, turning to (Y/N). There was something in his tone that was sincere, almost vulnerable. “I’m glad that Winwin had a stimulation at the right moment to push him to react.”

(Y/N) looked at him, barely smiling. She wasn’t sure what to say. Words seemed insufficient to express everything she was feeling. Finally, she chose the truth.

“To be honest, I really don’t clearly know why I’m here. I don’t know why I came to see him in the first place.”

Lucas nodded, understanding more than she imagined. There was something in that uncertainty that resonated with him. Sometimes, reasons didn’t matter as much as actions themselves.

“You don’t need to know,” he assured her, his voice firm but kind. “What’s important is that you’re here now.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. Both looked at Winwin, each with their own thoughts but sharing a common emotion: hope.

Lucas finally let himself sink into the chair next to the bed, his eyes fixed on his friend. He had spent so much time talking to a motionless body, trying to fill the void with his own words, that he had grown used to the absence of a response. But now, every small movement, every tiny reaction, was a reminder that Winwin was still there, fighting in some way.

Unfortunately, and to their bad luck, visiting hours that day had already ended, so after giving Winwin one last look, they were forced to leave.

The exit from the clinic was marked by a heavy silence. The cold night air wrapped around Lucas and (Y/N) as they walked through the empty parking lot, their steps echoing against the concrete. Both carried in their minds the image of Winwin, motionless but full of a hope that was just beginning to sprout. However, that faint light didn’t seem enough to dissipate the cloud hanging over them.

When Lucas finally broke the silence, his tone was almost conspiratorial, as if speaking aloud could invoke undesirable consequences.

“I shouldn’t tell you this,” he admitted, stopping next to a light post. The shadows danced on his face, making his expression seem even more serious. “But I think you deserve to know.”

(Y/N) frowned, her confusion evident. She crossed her arms, watching him expectantly. “What is it?” she asked, trying to stay calm, though something in Lucas’s tone gave her a bad feeling.

Lucas lowered his gaze for a moment, as if deciding whether he should really continue. But when he raised his eyes to her, they were full of determination.

“Sooman asked Jaehyun to make an exchange with him.”

The weight of those words fell on (Y/N) like a bucket of cold water. At first, the words didn’t fully make sense. Exchange? What did that mean in this context? But it only took an instant for the gravity of the situation to begin taking shape in her mind.

“I don’t understand,” she finally said, her voice trembling slightly. But deep down, she already sensed it wasn’t anything good.

Lucas sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Sooman wants Jaehyun to accompany him to a weapons exchange... which means Sooman expects him to take a more active role in the gang. To become someone willing to get his hands completely dirty. And to achieve that, he’s asking him to go along. An exchange... for his absolute loyalty.”

The words echoed in (Y/N)’s head. She felt how anger and helplessness began to form in her chest, fighting to surface. Jaehyun, always so stubborn, so convinced that he could protect everyone from that dark world, was now being dragged even further.

“Why are you telling me this?” she finally murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Lucas looked at her with a mix of compassion and seriousness. “Because I think you two deserve a chance together. And because, if that’s going to happen, Jaehyun needs to stay far away from this mess, far from everything the gang means.”

(Y/N) shook her head, pressing her lips together while trying to control the emotions swirling inside her. She felt like she was about to break, but she forced herself to stay composed.

“Jaehyun isn’t going to leave the gang,” she said, almost as if reminding herself as much as Lucas. “He’s made that clear more than once. He’s stubborn. I won’t be able to change his mind.”

Lucas shrugged but didn’t stop looking at her with firmness. “Maybe you can’t change his mind. But that doesn’t mean you should give up on him. Jaehyun isn’t bad, (Y/N). He’s trapped in this because of a twisted sense of responsibility. But if anyone can make him see things differently, I think it’s you.”

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, lowering her gaze to the ground. “And what if he doesn’t want to listen to me? What if he’s so convinced he’s doing the right thing that he doesn’t care what I say?” she asked, a hint of despair in her voice.

Lucas stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Then at least you’ll have tried. Because if you do nothing, Sooman will take him further than any of us can reach. And trust me, that’s not a place that’s easy to come back from.”

Lucas’s words struck deeply in (Y/N). She glanced back at the clinic one last time, as if seeking strength from the place that had witnessed the small spark of hope for Winwin. Now, she understood that it wasn’t just Winwin who was trapped. Jaehyun was too, though in a different way. The question was whether she had the strength to try and save them both.

(Y/N) remained silent, her thoughts echoing endlessly in her mind. Lucas’s words weighed heavier than she wanted to admit. She knew he made sense, but she also knew that confronting Jaehyun would be like talking to a wall: hard, impenetrable, and determined to stay standing no matter what.

Lucas broke the silence, his voice softer this time, almost as if he feared breaking something in her. “You don’t have to decide now,” he said, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. “But, (Y/N), Jaehyun is playing with fire. And the problem with fire isn’t just that it burns you… it also consumes everything close to you. If you don’t do something now, I don’t know how much longer he’ll stay safe.”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes that, despite their apparent strength, reflected the weight of worry. She wanted to respond, to say something comforting, but she couldn’t. She was caught between the desire to help and the fear of failing.

“Why me?” she finally asked, her voice barely a whisper. There was no challenge in her tone, only genuine uncertainty. “What makes you think I can do anything?”

Lucas gave her a faint smile, almost tinged with resignation. “Because Jaehyun listens when you speak. He might not show it, but he listens. And because you’re not trapped in this—not the way we are. You have something to offer him, something that can remind him there’s more beyond this world. Something worth fighting for.”

His words struck (Y/N) deeply. She had always known that Jaehyun was special to her, but hearing someone else put it into words made the feeling more real, more tangible.

She took a deep breath of the cold air, trying to clear her mind. Something inside her stirred—a spark that was beginning to ignite, though she wasn’t sure if it would be enough for what lay ahead.

“Where is he?” she finally asked, her tone more resolute.

Lucas looked at her for a moment before nodding, as if he had been expecting that question all along.

“At home. That’s where he usually goes when he needs to clear his head. But also…” He hesitated, carefully choosing his words. “It’s where he goes when he’s planning something. I don’t know how open he’ll be to listening, but if anyone can get him to stop and hear, it’s you.”

(Y/N) nodded slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she processed the information. There was no time for doubt or second-guessing. If Jaehyun was at risk of sinking even further, she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

“Thank you, Lucas,” she said finally, before turning toward the parking lot. Her voice was low, but there was a hint of determination in it.

“(Y/N),” he called, just before she could walk away. She turned, and for a moment, Lucas seemed more vulnerable than she had ever seen him. “Be careful. He might be stubborn, but he doesn’t deserve to lose you too. Nobody does.”

She didn’t respond, but she gave him a small smile, just enough to show that she understood.

With every step she took toward her car, the weight on her chest felt both lighter and heavier at the same time. The thought of facing Jaehyun scared her, but the thought of doing nothing… that was far worse.

The last time she had stepped into Jaehyun’s house, the memories had etched themselves onto her like marks on her skin. It hadn’t been just a moment; it had been a clash of emotions, a revelation that left her caught between the warmth of sharing something intimate with him and the chill of understanding just how trapped he was in Neo Zone, that dark, tangled world that seemed to consume him. She remembered the feel of his lips, how Jaehyun had allowed a small part of himself to open up to her, offering a glimpse of something he guarded so closely. But she also remembered the weight of realizing how much of him was anchored to that life holding him back.

That was why, standing in front of his door once more, her emotions were a whirlwind. Every step that had brought her here had been a mix of conviction and doubt. Was she ready to face him? To confront what it meant to stand beside someone like him? Even so, she raised her hand and knocked softly, as if afraid the door itself might crumble under the weight of her intentions.

When Jaehyun opened the door, his expression was a mix of confusion and something almost vulnerable, as if he hadn’t been prepared to see her there. His eyes searched hers, as though trying to decipher what her presence in that moment could mean. Then, the words left his mouth with a sharpness he hadn’t intended.

“What are you doing here?”

His tone was harsher than he meant, but (Y/N) didn’t flinch. She had expected this reaction. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady as she looked him straight in the eye.

“I need you.”

Jaehyun blinked, thrown off balance. Those two words hit him harder than he cared to admit. There were many things he was used to hearing: orders, reprimands, warnings. But I need you... those words carried a weight he didn’t know how to handle. He stayed silent, staring at (Y/N) as if waiting for her to elaborate, to explain what those words meant.

“I thought we already talked about this, angel,” he said, his body leaning toward her instinctively, as if an invisible magnet always drew them together.

“I know, and I told you then that there’s always something pulling me to you.”

Jaehyun exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure, but (Y/N)’s words disarmed him, as they always did. That raw honesty, that way she had of saying exactly what she felt, left him defenseless.

“(Y/N)...” he began, but his voice trailed off. He couldn’t find the words. He didn’t know how to respond without revealing just how much those simple phrases affected him.

She looked at him with an intensity that almost made him step back, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a step closer, closing the distance between them.

“I need you,” she repeated, her whisper brushing against his lips.

Jaehyun didn’t wait another second before crashing his lips against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss.

His hands roamed wherever they could—her hips, her waist, her lower back—as if needing to confirm she was really there. He tugged her closer, pulling her into the house and pressing her against the wall. His lips left hers to trail kisses along her neck.

Lost in the moment and the intoxicating rush, she brought her hands to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer, if that was possible. She could feel the heat, the desire, the overwhelming hunger that wrapped around them both in that moment. Her legs, with a small jump, wrapped around Jaehyun’s waist, and his hands moved to her thighs to hold her securely as she clung to him.

The intensity between them was undeniable, a whirlwind of passion and longing that neither could resist.

“You make me loose myself in you” Jaehyun confessed in a sigh and returning to her lips. “You're a danger to me” she attacked his mouth again, causing a moan to come from deep inside her, achieving a thrill inside the boy and making his dick twitch in his pants. The kissing session simply became more cadenced as the seconds passed and in the blink of an eye, without understanding how, they ended up entering Jaehyun's room. Where, once, being inside, she (Y/N) was gently thrown onto the bed of the boy, who positioned himself on top of her and continued his caresses down her body.

“You're the most beautiful thing I have... and I can't become selfish enough to let you stay” he murmured.

“Jaehyun” she moaned. “I want you.”

The boy looked into her eyes as he brought his hands to the girl's shirt and untucked it with breathtaking fluidity.

“Where do you want me, my love?” he asked lustfully.

“Inside me... wherever... but I need you, I want you.”

(Y/N) had a way with words, because right there, releasing that sentence, being under Jaehyun's body, so willing to him... the boy wanted to give her everything he had at that moment. The kisses became hotter, the caresses more needy and rougher, and the clothes were quickly disappearing. Every touch and every glance was charged with so much lust and passion that it caused Jaehyun to be unable to think of anything else. Nothing of her life, nothing of the gang, nothing of the exchange.

Just (Y/N).

(Y/N)... (Y/N)... (Y/N).

“Jae” the girl let out a sigh when Jaehyun's hand was on her intimate part, caressing her over the fabric of her panties, feeling the wetness that the situation was generating in her, but her ecstasy was on the rise when Jaehyun decided to get rid of her panties and bring his mouth to her sex.

She could feel a little air crashing into her mules. “You're always a cutie” Jaehyun murmured and without further ado he plunged his mouth into her womanhood running his warm tongue between her lips, I feel gentle.

(Y/N)'s mouth could only let out moans here and there. Feeling her breath hitch as Jaehyun decided to lightly suck on her clit, Jaehyun placed his hands on her thighs to continue his work, pressing his mouth against her core and moving his tongue inside with the tip, generating more stimulation.

Jaehyun surely isn’t shy about using his tongue on her; because he’s just good about it. (Y/N)’s hands go straight to Jaheyun’s hair trying to get a hold on anything that can make her not to lose her shit, but the grip has Jaehyun going feral; as he just apples more pressure in her thighs and bring his head closer, if that’s even possible, to her pussy. Must be pretty obvious she was close enough to cum, because Jaehyun took the chance to introduce his middle finger into her entrance, sliding just perfectly.

“Shit… Jae- keep going” she murmured biting her lip and gripping tighter onto his hair.

“Just keep moaning like that, my pretty baby angel” he says taking a breath to once again lap at her pussy, working his tongue so beautifully that got (Y/N) seeing stars.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” Jaehyun asks when he left her pussy to be able to stare at her.

She nodded and tug his hair so he could get closer to her face, she looked at him straight in the eyes and she could swear, his eyes were twinkling. She gave him a fucked out look and she brought him closer.

“Yes, baby; I want you to fuck me. Make a mess on me” she stated as she kissed passionately on his lips.

This kiss was eager, so full of warmth and love, that they got too lost in the moment. Jaehyun’s fingers kept sliding in her pussy simultaneously, making her shake under him.

It was just too good.

Then Jaehyun took his fingers out and his hand went straight to take a hold on his cock so he could just rub it on her pussy. Making her whimper and feeling her legs shaking; because the moment Jaehyun had decided to make his cock enter her pussy, was just her endgame. She could feel him so deep inside and oh so thick that she could swear she wouldn’t last long.

Too cockdrunk, she couldn’t even former a sentence out, she was just moaning and growling every time Jaehyun’s tip stroke so deliciously on her walls. Then, Jaheyun was leaning in and wrapping his lips on (Y/N) nipples.

“You’re perfect” Jaehyun said. “Not enough for you”

“Yes Jae. You’re enough for me” she replied. “You make me feel so good, so full” she moaned bucking her hips towards him.

That was enough to make him go wilder, thrusting so hard and fast that she was starting to feel reaching her climax. Her tits bouncing every time Jaehyun just pushed all the way out to her g spot.

“Fuck Yoonoh” she gasps. “You’re so deep.”

“You’re close, right angel?” he asks. “Just cum for me. You’re squeezing me so good, might just cum inside you.”

“Yes, Jae. Make a mess on me. Fill me up” He groaned and started to fuck her harder. “Don’t stop.” She asked again.

“That’s it baby, cum all over my cock.”

Just a little more of thrusts were enough to make her go all over the edge, squeezing Jaehyun so hard she only cummed once his tip reached once again her g spot. And a couple of more thrusts make him cum inside her as well.

He kissed her again. All over her face. All over her neck. He just wanted to feel her one more time. He just wanted to know that she was right there with him, she could just feel how Jaehyun was babbling some praises for her as he slides out of her entrances and dropped to her side, just to hold her closer to his body and be able to give her proper cuddles.

The room was bathed in shadows, with the streetlight casting faint lines through the curtains. Everything seemed frozen in time, except for the sound of their uneven breathing filling the space. Jaehyun held (Y/N)’s naked body from behind, while she gently massaged his arm wrapped around her waist. Unable to think any further, unable to face the boy… unable to forget.

“Do you know what’s the worst part of all this?” she suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but heavy with a weight Jaehyun couldn’t ignore.

He slowly lifted his gaze, his dark eyes reflecting something between exhaustion and regret.

“What?”

(Y/N) turned towards him, and though she tried to stay strong, her eyes betrayed the pain she felt.

“That I always hope you’ll choose something different. That you’ll choose to stay. But every time I think you will, you show me the opposite… I know about the exchange.”

Jaehyun swallowed hard, diverting his gaze to the floor. His heart pounded, but his lips remained sealed.

She shifted in his arms, stopping in front of him. Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop speaking.

“It was Lucas who told you about that, wasn’t it?”

“I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t affect me, Jaehyun. Watching you walk towards something I know could destroy you… it’s killing me. And I know it probably doesn’t matter to you, but I had to tell you.”

He raised his head, their eyes meeting for a moment. There was something broken in his gaze, something he rarely allowed to show.

“It’s not that I don’t care,” he murmured. “It’s just that there are things already out of my hands.”

(Y/N) stepped back, as if his words had pushed her away.

“That’s not true. You always have a choice, Jaehyun. Always. But it seems like I’m never part of it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. She had hoped he would say something, anything, but he just stood there, motionless.

“If you decide to go through with this,” she said finally, her voice cracking, “you won’t see me again.”

Jaehyun looked at her, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. His eyes begged her in a way his words couldn’t, but she had already made up her mind.

With a broken heart, (Y/N) took a step back toward the door. Each step was harder than the last, but she knew she couldn’t stay.

“Goodbye, Jaehyun,” she said before leaving, gently closing the door behind her.

The click of the lock echoed like a shadow in the empty room. Jaehyun remained seated, staring into the void, as if time had stopped. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he felt his chest tightening, and the feeling of loss hit him like an unstoppable wave.

Slowly, he brought his hands to his face, letting the tears he had held back for so long fall. It was a strange sight for someone like him, someone who always kept his composure, but that night, in the solitude of his room, Jaehyun allowed himself to break down.

Every word from (Y/N) echoed in his mind, over and over again, like a reminder of what he had just lost. He knew it was probably too late to fix it, but still, the thought of never seeing her again destroyed him more than he could have ever imagined.

As the streetlights continued to flicker on the other side of the window, Jaehyun remained there, facing the emptiness of his decision and the weight of his emotions.

Jaehyun needed clarity, and when confusion overwhelmed him, there was only one place that seemed to bring him some balance: that lookout on the outskirts of the city. From there, the city lights barely flickered like tiny artificial stars, while the sun slowly sank into the horizon, painting the sky with shades of fire and melancholy.

He collapsed onto the grass, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. The cold wind tousled his hair, but it couldn’t extinguish the burning heat of the thoughts tormenting him.

One problem after another, hasty decisions, and now, a countdown that seemed to suffocate him. There were only a few days left before the meeting, but with each passing hour, his resolve weakened.

He lifted his gaze to the sunset, searching for answers in the play of colors in the sky. There was always something in that place that reminded him of how insignificant he was, a speck of dust in an immense universe. And yet, in that moment, he felt that his decision could trigger an avalanche that would not only drag him down but also those he cared about.

One part of his mind tried to justify it: A quick exchange. No one would get hurt if everything went well. But the other part, the harder one to silence, whispered an uncomfortable truth: "Nothing is that simple. Once you cross that line, the responsibilities will only rise."

His phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him out of his reverie. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know who the message was from; the intermediary never stopped reminding him of the details. Jaehyun squeezed the device in his hand, as if the simple act of holding it could give him an answer.

Was he doing it for money? Yes, in part. But above all, he was doing it because he felt he had no other choice. And that was the most painful part: the lack of control over his own life, the weight of a society pushing him to extremes. "If only it were different…" he thought, but didn’t finish the sentence. The words were lost in the air, just like his hope.

He sat on the grass, feeling the dampness of the ground seep through the fabric of his pants. With slow movements, he pulled out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and lit it. The first drag was slow, almost ceremonial, as the smoke filled his lungs. When he exhaled, the nicotine-laden air formed a cloud that faded with the breeze. He closed his eyes, allowing the silence to envelop him, the kind of stillness only found away from the chaos of the city. For a moment, the world stopped being a complicated place.

Then, a voice broke the calm:

“Jung Jaehyun.”

The sound of his name was unexpected enough to make him open his eyes abruptly. He looked toward the source of the call, and as he recognized the familiar figure, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh, followed by a crooked smile. It almost felt like a joke from fate.

“I don’t have anything on me,” he said, raising his hands with feigned innocence, leaving the cigarette dangling carelessly from his lips. “This is tobacco, Officer Baekhyun.”

The man in front of him raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His uniform was disheveled, as if he’d had a long day, and the way he scratched the back of his neck suggested he wasn’t there on official business. Without replying, Baekhyun sat down next to Jaehyun, letting out a sigh as he turned his attention to the horizon, painted in warm tones.

“I’m not here to take you to the station,” he assured with a calm voice, laden with sincerity that contrasted with his position as authority.

Their relationship couldn’t be described as simple. On more than one occasion, Jaehyun had faced Baekhyun under less friendly circumstances. Being part of Neo Zone had placed him on the officer’s radar, and though most interactions ended with Jaehyun sitting in a cold interrogation room, there was something about Baekhyun that set him apart from other cops. It wasn’t his tolerance, but the way he seemed to see beyond the criminal record.

“Got an extra one?” asked the officer, gesturing casually at the cigarette.

Jaehyun looked at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement. The irony was almost delicious. Without saying a word, he pulled another cigarette from his pocket and handed it over. Baekhyun took it, lighting it with a silver lighter he pulled from his jacket. The first drag was brief, but enough for the officer to release a sigh accompanied by a cloud of smoke.

Jaehyun glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to decipher the intentions behind this unexpected visit. There was something in Baekhyun’s relaxed posture that unsettled him. It was strange to share a moment of calm with someone who, technically, should be his enemy. And yet, there they were, sitting side by side, as if the weight of their respective worlds could be suspended for a few minutes.

The wind carried the scent of tobacco into the cool afternoon air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. They just watched the sunset, as if in that fleeting spectacle they could find the answers they both seemed to be searching for in silence.

Jaehyun glanced sideways at Officer Baekhyun as he exhaled the smoke calmly, as if they weren’t two men on opposite sides of the law sharing a casual moment. The contrast between them had always struck him as odd; Baekhyun had this mix of relaxed authority and curiosity that made him difficult to read. He wasn’t an ordinary cop, and maybe that’s why Jaehyun had never been able to decide if he should respect him, distrust him, or both.

“And what brings you here, officer?” Jaehyun asked, feigning disinterest while toying with the cigarette between his fingers. The usual tension in his tone was absent, replaced by a kind of calm resignation. After all, if Baekhyun had come to arrest him, he’d already be handcuffed.

Baekhyun didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at the horizon, where the last traces of light were fading into shades of purple and gray. Finally, after another drag, he spoke.

“You know, this place has something, don’t you think? It’s like time stops here, even if just for a moment.”

Jaehyun frowned. Baekhyun wasn’t one for beating around the bush. “Are you here to philosophize with me, or do you have something to tell me?”

The officer let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as though trying to ease the tension in the conversation. But his gaze remained sharp.

“Straight to the point, as always. Alright, Jaehyun.” He turned his head to face him, and his expression grew more serious, as if each word he was about to say carried more weight than he cared to admit. “I want to negotiate with you.”

Jaehyun’s body tensed almost immediately, an instinctive reaction. In his world, negotiations didn’t usually end well for anyone. But, as always, his face remained expressionless. He took another drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs a few seconds longer than necessary before exhaling slowly. “I don’t think it’s very ethical of you, officer,” he replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

The response didn’t seem to surprise Baekhyun. “I know about the exchange.”

Jaehyun’s face immediately changed. The small smile on his lips vanished in an instant. He swallowed but tried to maintain his composure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said firmly, though the slight tremor in his hands betrayed his attempt to appear indifferent.

Baekhyun brought the cigarette to his lips and took a drag before continuing, his tone calm, almost casual, as if he were talking about the weather. “When I took the position of chief of police, I promised myself one thing: to end Neo Zone. I’ve been following your steps, Jaehyun. You’re an important thread in this case.”

Jaehyun scoffed, a weak attempt to appear unconcerned. “And what do I do with this information?” he asked, turning to look at the officer with an arched eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s very wise of you to come all the way out here and tell someone from Neo Zone that you’re planning something against them.”

The officer let out a long sigh, a sound full of exhaustion and frustration. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if the words he needed to say were too difficult to pronounce. Finally, he spoke, his voice lower, almost vulnerable. “Because I don’t want to see you sink further, Jaehyun. I’m serious.”

Jaehyun turned toward him with a look of disbelief. That answer wasn’t what he expected. “What the hell are you saying? Why do you care what I do or don’t do?”

Baekhyun shrugged, looking back at the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. “Because I know you’re not like the others. There’s something in you, Jaehyun. Something you haven’t destroyed yet. And believe me, I’ve seen enough people cross that line to know that once you do, there’s no turning back.”

Jaehyun clenched his jaw, a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t identify burning in his chest. He was tired of hearing that same story. “You have potential, Jaehyun.” “You can be better than this.” Baekhyun’s words weren’t new, but they came with a different weight, a sincerity that unsettled him.

“And what’s the deal supposed to be?” he asked finally, his tone heavy with disdain.

Baekhyun nodded, as though he’d been expecting that question. “We found out about the exchange almost by accident. But when we knew enough, everything pointed to you. We know you’re part of the team that’s going to carry it out. I can offer you entry into the witness protection program if you decide to cooperate with us.”

Jaehyun let the words settle in his mind for a moment. Then, he slowly shook his head. “You want me to be a rat in my own gang?” he asked with a dry, bitter laugh.

Baekhyun held his gaze and nodded. “With all due respect, officer,” Jaehyun continued, leaning forward with a sarcastic expression, “But you’re crazy. What do you think would happen if they found out I was the one who ratted them out? It wouldn’t just be my head, it would be my life, my family. A bullet to the head would be the kindest thing they could do to me for being a snitch.”

“That’s why I can offer you protection,” Baekhyun insisted, his tone firmer now. “I’ve worked on this case for years, doing everything I can to make this program exist. The state can guarantee your safety and your family's if you cooperate.”

“My safety?” Jaehyun let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t need protection for myself. I need it for my family. I’m doing this for them, you understand? Not for me.”

Baekhyun looked at him with an intensity that Jaehyun couldn’t quite interpret. “Your family would be protected too. While you’re in the program, they will be a priority. And yes, you’ve made legal mistakes. But if you cooperate fully and give us the information we need to close this case, the judge may consider granting you clemency. You could start fresh. You wouldn’t face legal consequences.”

The words hung heavily in the air. Jaehyun lowered his gaze, his thoughts a chaotic mess. It was an enticing offer, but he couldn’t ignore the fear, the certainty that taking that path would mean losing everything he knew.

Jaehyun’s cigarette was burning slowly between his fingers, completely forgotten as Baekhyun’s words echoed in his head. The idea of betraying Neo Zone, of becoming a “protected informant,” seemed not only insane but suicidal.

“Are you kidding me?” Jaehyun murmured, more to himself than to the officer. He raised his eyes to Baekhyun, hoping to find some sign that this was some sort of trick, but the officer’s gaze was serious, almost… sincere.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Baekhyun replied, stamping his cigarette out on the ground with a measured motion. “But think of it as an opportunity. Not just for you, but for the people you love.”

That sentence hit a nerve. Jaehyun’s jaw tightened, and he turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the sun had already disappeared, leaving a gray-tinged sky. His family… (Y/N)… Years had passed, and excuses had become easier, but the truth was simple: he had entered this world to protect them, even if the price was carrying the weight of his own decisions. “It’s easy for you to say,” he finally replied, his voice low but full of bitterness. “You have a job, a uniform, a life that doesn’t depend on looking over your shoulder. But me… I don’t have that option. I haven’t had it for years.”

Baekhyun listened in silence, with a patience that irritated Jaehyun. Why did he care so much? What did he see in him that others didn’t? “And what if I told you that you could have it now?” the officer pressed. “You and your family. A life away from this. Away from Neo Zone.”

Jaehyun let out a dry, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “And then what? Do I hide for the rest of my life? Living in fear that someone will find out where I am? Because believe me, officer, those people don’t forget. You can lock up one, two, or ten of them, but there’s always more. And when they find out I’m the one who spoke…” He paused, bringing his fingers to his temples as if trying to calm the chaos in his mind. “I don’t even want to imagine what they’d do.”

Baekhyun slightly tilted his head, his eyes fixed on Jaehyun. There was something in his expression, a type of understanding that didn’t quite fit his role as a police officer.

“Jaehyun,” he said quietly, as if the name carried a special weight. “I know you’re scared. And I understand. But I also know you’re not like them. You have something to fight for. Something that’s worth more than any false loyalty you think you have to Neo Zone.”

“False?” Jaehyun let out an incredulous laugh. “What makes you think I can trust you, when you’re just another cop playing hero?” The sincerity in Baekhyun’s eyes didn’t waver. “Because I’m not a hero. And I don’t want you to end up as just another statistic.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer immediately. The wind was blowing strongly now, taking the warmth from the night that loomed over them. In his mind, the officer’s words mixed with memories of everything he had done to survive, to keep his family safe, even when it meant getting his hands dirty.

“If I accept this…” he began, his voice trembling for the first time. “If I trust you, how do I know it won’t go wrong? How do I know I won’t lose everything anyway?”

“Because you’ll be in control for the first time in a long time,” Baekhyun replied firmly. “You can stay where you are and let Neo Zone dictate every decision you make, or you can start building something different. Something that’s yours.”

Silence settled between them again. Jaehyun looked at the cigarette in his hand, now reduced to a filter that barely served any purpose. He stamped it out on the ground, wondering if Baekhyun was right, if he really could change his fate.

“This isn’t an easy decision,” he murmured finally. “I can’t promise anything.”

“I don’t expect you to do it today,” Baekhyun replied. “But time is running out, Jaehyun. And when the time comes, I want you to remember that there’s another way out.”

The officer stood up, brushing off his pants before turning toward him. Jaehyun didn’t stop him, and Baekhyun didn’t look back as he walked away. But the words remained, lodged like a weight in Jaehyun’s chest, still sitting under the cold night breeze, trying to decipher the right line to cross.

“If you decide to accept, you know where to find me… and if you decide not to, this conversation will stay between us.”

a/n:NOT PROOFEAD! So yes, it was way easier to write now that my laptop is working again TT, also this week was my bday yayyy! I hope you liked this chapter, i would really love if you could gave sum feedback! (specially since english is not my first language, so it makes it a little harder to write) I was just want to clarify that the informant protection program does exist and yup, people with illegal backgrounds can be part of it and almost get a plea if they colaborate enough.

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @dojaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr @completelyjae (idk why some of the tags just don’t work out!)

Feel free to send any asks here if you want!

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cringefaecompilation · 5 months ago

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DORIAN STORM, ROBBIE DAYMOND, AND THE CRITICAL ROLE FANDOM: AN ADDENDUM

aka: zoinks, scoob! it got worse!

(same disclaimer as before: we’re talking about racism, not how annoying you think xyz white character is or how much you want to punt all xyz shippers into a fire. keep your comments focused on dorian himself; it feels counterproductive when conversations about the racism experienced by actors of color and the fictional characters they play snowballs into shitting on fictional white characters and completely ignoring the former.)

as should be obvious, this is an addition to my other long post about dorian storm's racist treatment by fandom which can be found here. now onto my suffering for the past couple of weeks!

so in my original post, i said the following:

i guess i shouldn’t have jumped the gun on how racist people really could be, huh?

now, i did initially want to discuss the people who immediately assumed dorian would be vocally anti-god upon reuniting with the hells and join the vanguard in that post or wished death on him for abandoning dariax. i was already frustrated at how eager everyone was to jump on that train; there’s certainly something to be said about people wanting him to join the vanguard because it’d be “sexy” which very much ignores the fact it’s a soul-sucking cult that uses emotional manipulation and violence to keep its members in line. why would you wish that upon a character you allegedly like?

but there were enough people who were just happy to see him again to drown them out for the time being and it wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before: both orym and laudna had tons of people insisting post episode 63 that they were turning evil and imogen couldn’t have so much as sneezed without people insisting she was a pure evil bitch destined to become the bbeg. maybe this, too, would peter out. and it seemed like it did when everyone was hunky-dory with dorian returning up until episode 102.

the cr cooldown for episode 102 had robbie say that he could see what ludinus was getting at: the gods struck first so ludinus was on some level, justified in his actions and orym’s family just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. he could relate due to seeing melora and lloth basically team up to kidnap opal and maul cyrus to death. fandom went berserk and assumed he would join the ruby vanguard immediately and bell’s hells would need to kill him. usually orym for angst, but i did see a few people who really hated dorian already because of do/rym shippers that wanted imogen to kill him to spite said shippers and prove her innocence. these people legitimately assumed that he would tell orym to his face that his family deserved death because the gods made ludinus sad.

so, what about when the exact opposite happened in canon and orym more or less told dorian that if ludinus hadn’t activated the malleus key, then his brother wouldn’t have had to die by the gods’ hands? or that if his brother had been killed by ludinus or the vanguard, then he wouldn’t care about the gods having done awful things in the past?

the best-case scenario here is that orym overstepped in trying to keep them away from ludinus’ dangerous rhetoric of letting everything burn down out of spite and didn’t think his example through before saying it. the worst-case scenario is that orym told dorian he’s insincerely using his brother’s death as an excuse for ludinus’ fascistic actions and isn’t actually traumatized by it.

eithher way one thing is clear: intent and actions are two very different things. his intentions (prevent his friends from being indoctrinated into a murder cult no matter what) were good but the implicit statement that he does not trust dorian to make the right decision without being herded into it is nothing short of condescending. i can imagine he’ll apologize for this, but as it stands it was an incredibly awful thing for him to say, especially after coming off him realizing how nasty he’d been to laudna in the past few weeks. it hurts even more when you take into consideration that dorian trusts orym as a leader and protector over anybody else and took his side in an argument completely no more than two days ago.

fandom, of course, did not see it that way. from calling him a spoiled brat who sympathized with the evil wizards of aeor instead of the gods because of his royal status (misapplying intersectionality and implying the squall is the same as a fascist mageocracy, ew!) to directly telling him to watch his tone (holy fucking shit) or shut up because he was an idiot that didn’t know what he was talking about.

even “nicer” posts about the situation tried to imply it was all dorian’s fault for not being forthright with everything that had happened to his brother and the crownkeepers and if he’d just done that, orym wouldn’t have been such a jerk. which, if i may crib the tags off @tiredqueermushroom, why do people of color need to explain their motivations in detail when white characters can just insinuate something and their (usually) white fans will headcanon themselves into complacency? and no, he didn’t omit any details or underexplain, both orym and fearne looked miserable after finding out what happened to their old team! they knew damn well what happened and how it affected him! others said that he needed to be educated by all these white people on how great the gods are which is... uh… please read a history book. please.

and this starts to form a pattern: how come deanna was tone-policed and accused of being emotionally abusive for questioning an awesomely being that could vaporize her out of existence but fcg is treated as being completely innocent and kind when he asked the exact same question to another awesomely powerful being? outside of this campaign, how come beau had to be seen sobbing about her abusive family for episodes on end and explain all her motivations in detail before anyone believed her or gave her the time of day outside of characterizing her as an asshole, but caleb was allowed to be self-centered and objective with only his own trauma as an excuse? outside of race, how come astrid becke, a woman groomed beginning at age fifteen was seen as an evil cackling minion to the bbeg, but essek thelyss, a grown man who made the active decision to screw over his entire country out of spite is a sad innocent baby who was tricked by a mean ol’ hubris wizard and has no agency in his actions?

and again, almost none of the fanbase acknowledges he’s native or even that he is a person of color, which makes all of this even more horrific! does your racism really run that deep that even past all your whitewashed headcanons, you see an actor with an ounce of melanin and instantly assume the worst? is it because he's here with his own opinions and a narrative you cannot personally control that makes you uncomfortable?

in the words of the great lou wilson: y’all freaks.

#🍃#critical role #critrole #cr spoilers #dorian storm #fandom racism #and before ANYBODY tries to say that it's not racist because ashton started it: that doesn't stop the specific ways that dorian was treated #taliesin and ashton are both white guys afaik and while YES they've also been getting crap it does not carry the same connotations

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alexendria-rose · 6 months ago

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~Dance with me~

Sherlock Holmes X Reader

Y/n watched as Sherlock Holmes played the violin so beautifully and elegantly for his closest friends. Her eyes completely focused on him. The way he felt the music beneath his fingers and soul made her smile in awe. His eyes open darting towards her giving her a small smile that was only for her, because as soon as his gaze wasn’t on her; his face went natural once again and she cherished that. Y/n was the person that has been by his side as long as John has. She was the person that would tag alone cases with him, the person that would grab him milk because he always forgot to when John asked and when she thought he died she was constantly wishing it was all fake, that it wasn’t real; finding out she was right made her open her eyes about how she felt about Sherlock. The way they would sit and talk about different cases and how to solve them at 1AM while they drunk tea, the way Sherlock made sure he wouldn’t let his legs go so fast so she could keep up. It was always Sherlock and Y/n and as she stared at the way he looked at Mary and John, she knew she wasn’t stoic and distant and cold. He was human, more human than anyone she’s ever met. She was in love with her best friend, the man who was content in being alone so he says.

Sherlock finishes the song, John dipping Mary giving his now wife a chaste kiss on her lips. Y/n grins clapping along with the crowd. She watched as Sherlock walks up to the two smiling and laughing with the newlywed couple. They soon disperse, as Mary and John continue to dance and talk to their families and friends. Sherlock looked around the room scanning for the person who mattered the most to him, his eyes immediately finding her a small smile playing on his lips about to take the steps to go towards her, realizing someone already got there first.

Y/n eyes were locked on Sherlock when Greg Lestrade comes up slurring his words.

“Oh bloody hell Greg how much have you had to drink?” She laughs putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady.

“Maybe a bit too much?” He groans leaning against the wall they were beside. Y/n rolls her eyes turning to head to look back at Sherlock noticing his presence was not there. She crinkles her eyebrows giving her glass to Greg.

“I have to go, don’t kill yourself with alcohol please.” She mumbles hearing Greg scoff before leaving her spot looking around the dance floor to see if she could spot Sherlock. She moves her head towards the exit noticing the curly mop of hair leaving the building. She follows swiftly behind him making her way out of the crowed room.

“Where are you going?” She says as soon as they’re outside. Sherlock whips his head around his coat in his arm as well as his scarf. He notices her confused expression, but her sad one as well.

“Weddings aren’t my thing.” He mumbles softly, keeping to himself the exact reason he was leaving. Because he knew he was going to end up alone anyways.

“I wouldve left with you.” She whispered shyly walking her way closer to him.

“I didn’t want you to leave your fun because of me.” He mumbles turning his face away from her his jaw flexing slightly.

“I was waiting for you.” She admitted to him placing a hand on his arm. “You played amazing tonight,” Sherlock glances at the way she rests her hand on his arm.

“You were?” He questions. She just smiles softly at him.

“I remember the time you told me that you always loved dancing as a child.” She giggled remembering the way he told her like it was a secret. “I wanted to watch you dance and enjoy your time. I know why you’re pushing away.” Sherlock laughs softly at her memory but soon as she mentioned him pushing away his face snapped away from hers.

“I’m not pushing anyone away-“

“Sherlock, you’re afraid of change.” She whispered softly keeping her hand placed on his arm. “You’re scared that it’s not just going to be the four of us chasing you around all the time.” Sherlock looks into her eyes trying to read her wondering why she was so soft spoken with him, why she’s never been offended at the way he was so blunt and honest.

“It may not always be the four of us, but I will always be here for you Sherlock.”

“Why are you?” He moves himself closer furrowing his eyebrows. “Why are you always here for me.” Y/n clears her throat shaking her head.

“It doesn’t matte-“

“It does, please tell me. I’ve been trying to deduce that for years and for the life of me. I can’t figure it out.” He steps closer to her noticing the way her breathing became more uneven, and her eyes dilating.

“Because I care about you.”

“It’s not just that.” He mumbles tilting his head grabbing her wrist to feel her pulse. “Your pulse is abnormal, your eyes are dilated…” he freezes his eyes lifting up from her wrist to her eyes. “Love?”

Y/n eyes widen moving her wrist away from his grasp.

“Sherlock it’s fine I’ve already come to terms with all of it.” She waves her hands to stop this conversation going any further, not wanting to hear that love is a defect, or even worse the rejection that he will never ever look at her that way. Instead he just chuckles, running his hand through his hair, setting his stuff down on the ledge of the fountain.

“Dance with me.” He says lifting his hand out to her. She looks at him with a confused look before taking a hold of his hand. He pulls her hand bringing him close to his chest starting to slow dance with her. She squeals as he brings her to his chest looking at him with flustered cheeks. “Do you know the reason why I always want you near me?” He asks his feet moving swiftly but slowly keeping her in her pace.

“Because I’m useful?” She laughs softly looking up at him noticing his eyes soften as he looks down at her.

“Well yes, you are one of the most intelligent people I have ever met but no.” He smirks softly their bodies moving gracefully together. “Because you are the one person who doesn’t see me as a robot, or just a detective, or just someone who’s impressed by me.” He pauses turning his face away from her. “You’re someone I want to spend my time with, someone I always think about whether I want to or not.” She bites her lip softly watching his face turn valnerable and completely in tune with her. “I’ve always said that love was a weakness, and now I know that isn’t the case because of you.” Her heart quickens at his words.

“But that would mean-“

“I love you, all I want to do is protect and hold you. You’re all I think about, so yes tonight scared me because I cannot bare the thought of things changing between us. I’m scared of losing you.” His gaze focusing on hers not noticing there dancing has stopped as his focus was on her and only her.

“I love you too.” She whispers softly and delicately afraid this moment would just end. He chuckles deeply lifting her chin up with his index finger.

“You have my heart Y/n.” He mumbles leaning forward to place a soft kiss on her lips. She sighs softly as there lips touch. It was quick but it was full of passion and love knowing this won’t be their last kiss, that it was just the beginning.

#x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #sherlock holmes.#sherlock holmes x reader bbc #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic

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blackfilmmakers · 1 year ago

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I pirated wish & the movie was just so mid. The concept art look more finish then the actual movie. Asha wasn’t really adorkable as people was complaining about since they saw how she acted in the trailers but rather she have no personality to me. The choices made in the movie was dumb like Asha asking for her grandfather’s wish to be granted during an interview. It was like asking for a raise during an interview for a job. And the king showing how the wishing process work make his look foolish until they had her be an apprentice already. Also I’m sure the whole kingdom would knows that not everyone wishes will be granted since Asha’s grandfather is 100 and still hadn’t gotten his wish granted which would also apply that the king is way older then he look since it was stated he built the kingdom. They could had made him want to keep the wishes to keep him immortal. And it suffer from show don’t tell cause people losing their wish doesn’t really affect them nor did anyone seem miserable in the movie until the king turn evil. It would had been cool to see them lose their creativity. Plus even if you forget your wish once you gave it to the king, won’t your family and friends remember it cause I bet you would tell them what you wish for. It would also had been interesting for as the person change so do their wishes which would reflect to something else different then what they originally wish for when they was 18. That way the king can keep an eye on his subjects since the wish show what’s in their heart. And I wish they based Asha on Tiana since they both lost their fathers and it could show Asha processing it still through being a great apprentice and seeing the king as a father figure so that when he show his true colors, it would make Asha feel like she lost another father figure. She rarely ever mention him and we don’t even get to see his face or any flashback. And I wish they kept the villain couple and star being a star boy because star wasn’t even important since it only made animals and plants talk . I wish they added the romance in the movie for Asha, considering Disney don’t do romance that much in movies but that have been happening just as they starting putting more girl of colors in lead who deserve to see themselves desire. Wish just felt like it failed black girl and black women again like they did with princess and the frog except worse because instead of turning Asha into an animal, they didn’t make her into a character at all.

It really was a nothing movie wasn't it?

I hate that Disney chose to do this with a Black princess once again, because they refuse to turn back to 2D again

They just somehow managed to be more lazy with her design and background heritage, and worldbuilding ontop of it

And then they have the nerve to say Wish isn't doing so well, because they made the mistake of pandering to the 'snowflakes' and focused more on representation rather than story

Like no yall just suck, and you didn't represent anyone in this story. Not the Amazigh, not Spanish people, not disabled people(according to some mutuals that pointed out Dahilia's cane isn't designed properly, and she walks like an abled-bodied person using a cane), not animators

I can't even see Asha having a love interest, because she just doesn't have a personality. Ontop of concept art pointing out that human Star was meant to look like her grandfather. But in terms of romance in the story, the concept of "love conquers all" used for the villain couple? That I could get behind

Supposedly, the reason they didn't go with this is because studios didn't want the monarchy to look bad? Skill issue, but anyways hmmm almost sounds like this could be an easy fix by making Asha a princess

#Disney's wish #it's just nothing

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shrinkthisviolet · 5 months ago

Note

8 + Cisco and Morgan for the angsty writing prompts.

Gladly! This takes place during Chapter 8 of i still love you (i promise), with flashbacks to were you lying to me (and the family)?:

Cisco couldn’t stop thinking about what Joe had said.

“Did you know he was friends with Simon Stagg? General Eiling? Do you know how many contacts he has, in very powerful positions?”

He’d known about Eiling, but…not Stagg. And he couldn’t deny that Dr. Wells being so cozy with people like that…it made Cisco nervous. More than he was willing to admit.

But it wasn’t just that. The part that really stuck out to him was…

“Or, actually, let’s start smaller: what about the way he treats his daughter? The way he talks to her sometimes?”

He didn’t want to admit it. He really didn’t. But…it was true, wasn’t it? The way Dr. Wells sometimes spoke to Morgan like she was years younger, a little girl instead of a teenager…sure, teenagers were still kids, and every child was their parents’ baby, but this felt…this felt like more than that.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it when he went back to STAR Labs, as much as he tried to distract himself.

Naturally, given his luck, he walked right into a question of ethics.

“It seems Ronnie’s fight with the Flash has exacerbated the FIRESTORM Matrix—it’s unstable.” Dr. Wells sighed. “Exponentially increasing the rate of fission inside his body.”

“Well, how long does he have?” Caitlin asked, frowning.

“If his temperature keeps rising at the current pace…no more than a couple of hours, I’m afraid.”

“But you can fix it, right?” She insisted. “I mean, you…you can separate them before it’s too late.”

“Caitlin…” he sighed. “Any attempt we make to separate the two of them could be catastrophic…a nuclear explosion.”

“So it’s the same consequence either way?” Morgan spoke up, worried. “Then why shouldn’t we try?”

He frowned. “You would risk the life of our colleague—of your self-proclaimed brother—on the basis of a foolish hope?”

“At least we could say we’ve done something!”

“Yes, I suppose we could,” he agreed sharply. “We could delude ourselves into thinking we know best, that our judgment is sound—we could make a deadly decision that only a miracle could save us from. And I’m afraid we’re fresh out of miracles. So go on, Sentry, self-proclaimed protector of all metahumans, do tell: is this really the path you wish to pursue?”

Cisco froze. That…that was so much worse than anything before.

Before, Dr. Wells had patronized her, talking to her like she was younger.

Now, though? Now…he spoke to her like she was older. Like the world rested on her shoulders, like the onus was all on her—

This isn’t fair, this isn’t—why?! Why are you talking to her like that?!

And then it got worse.

“You want to kill Ronnie?” Caitlin’s expression reflected the horror they all felt—how could he, how could he—Ronnie was their friend, Caitlin’s fiancé—how could Dr. Wells suggest—

“No, I don’t want to kill Ronnie,” Dr. Wells retorted, cold and clinical, as if Ronnie was a specimen rather than a person, “but in this scenario, Ronnie is the host body.”

“If you kill Ronnie, you kill Stein,” Cisco retorted, “that’s two people!”

“I don’t know how else to stop it. And my guess is that if Ronnie and Professor Stein knew the consequences that we were all facing, they would make the same decision. It’s two lives for millions. I know you can all do that math.” His gaze drifted past Morgan and settled on Caitlin.

Cisco was all too glad to leave that room, secure in knowing that Caitlin would chew Dr. Wells out for even thinking of that solution, let alone saying it like that.

And in the meantime…

His gaze drifted to Morgan, who looked terrified, shaking in her shoes.

He couldn’t imagine how horrible that had been for her.

“Did something happen in the past few days?” She spoke up suddenly, turning to him.

“What?” Cisco laughed nervously. “No, nothing, why?”

“You just seem kinda jumpy,” she said gently, her fear seeming to dissipate as she focused on him. “And…look, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just…really worried.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Well, you should worry less about us and more about yourself, Mo.”

She flinched, pulling away from him. “Well, all right, then. Sorry for…just…sorry, I guess.”

Stunned by her reaction, it was a few moments later when he finally called, “Morgan,” and started after her, desperate to explain…but she didn’t seem to hear him, turning the corner without so much as a backwards glance.

Cisco, for his part, scrubbed a hand over his face, tears welling in his eyes.

God, how was he supposed to deal with hero worship chipping away in the worst way possible? How many times had Dr. Wells spoken to Morgan harshly, how much had Cisco missed because he was so desperate for Dr. Wells’s gentle smile, his approval, his praise—so desperate for a father figure who loved him without reservation?

And that was rare for Dr. Wells too—he was reserved with nearly everyone except their little tight-knit Team.

(And Hartley. But Cisco refused to think about Hartley.)

But Morgan…

Cisco knew he could stop at this. He could make excuses for Dr. Wells, could go on justifying him to Joe, could comfort Morgan—he could keep having it all.

…or he could do the right thing and protect Morgan from what appeared more and more to be a clear danger of some kind.

And Cisco…well, he was a hero through and through.

But he also knew he couldn’t do it alone…and that one person, one of the most important in this equation, wasn’t yet on board.

Maybe this would be just the thing to snap Barry Allen out of his ridiculous anger.

prompt list!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs

@thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @negative-speedforce @starstruckpurpledragon @angst-is-love-angst-is-life

@miss-eli-starfleet

#lavi’s prompt fills #cisco & morgan #cisco & thawne #cisco ramon #oc: morgan wells #eobard thawne #eowells #caitlin snow #joe west #the flash

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shadowisles-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Heatwave (Part 3) [Elriel]

A/N: I’m a little late for the writing circle but very excited to be posting my first Elriel fic. I’m not used to this ship dynamic so it was super fun to explore! If you haven’t yet, you can read part 1 by @secret-third-thing and part 2 by @starfall-spirit by clicking on the links. You can also find all the works from this writing circle in this masterlist. The fic is also available on AO3 here, and all the works can be found in the ACOTAR Writing Circle 3 collection.

Word count: 2094

Elain smiled at the pastel pink decal she had just finished sticking on her window. The beautiful logo Feyre had designed for her was perfect to match the vibes she had wanted for her flower shop. It was printed all over business cards, stamped on tags and on the paper she wrapped her bouquets with.

After a couple of months on the road, she was ready for her new start. Travelling had provided her with a desperately needed break. She had gotten space from her old life, from her family, from everything that had been holding her back.

Elain had used that time for introspection and somewhere along the road managed to make decisions to grasp the life she truly wanted. For now, it looked like an apartment close to her sisters and her own pastel colored flower shop.

And Azriel.

Elain wished she could say she wasn’t settling somewhere because of a man she hardly knew, but she was. Azriel had been a constant in her life even while traveling. She sent him pictures of the places she visited, he replied with pictures of places he’d take her to when she was back in New England.

They talked every day. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for quick check-ins or to reply to a picture the other had sent. Gradually, pictures of the places Elain visited began to be more focused on Elain herself in said places. It didn’t take long for selfies to be exchanged at random times of the day. Elain in ridiculous tourist hats, Azriel at work.

She didn’t really know when they slipped up to pictures in bed. Perhaps they’d been talking too late one evening, and the only selfie Azriel could take was a shirtless one. Elain rarely slept in more than a tank top, and it was all downhill from there.

They hadn’t gotten far, but her hidden folder already included some of those pictures where he was obviously displaying his muscled chest. They weren’t inappropriate per say, but considering the feelings they elicited in Elain, she preferred keeping them out of her regular camera roll.

She could have traveled for another month, maybe more, if it hadn’t been for him. The pull between them had been undeniable from the start. They had been stumbling over their words, hanging out and obviously attracted to each other but too awkward for it to lead to anything. The separation had helped them become more comfortable, and they had fallen into an easy friendship the moment she came back.

Since then, Azriel had been in the shop every day to help her paint and set up for her opening date. Her sisters had stopped by too, but they hadn’t been willing to get their hands dirty.

“It looks beautiful,” Azriel brought Elain back to the present. He stood beside her, admiring the sign they’d been so stressed about sticking on straight.

“Thank you,” she beamed. “For everything, I mean… I could have never done this without your help.”

“Sure you could have,” he smiled. “All I did was tell you there was space available and give you a phone number.”

“Oh, is that all you did?” She raised an eyebrow and turned to face him, her hands on her hips. “How about going to see said space for me while I was traveling to send me the exact measurements and make sure it was suitable for a flower shop?”

“It was no trouble,” Azriel shrugged.

“Uh uh,” Elain continued. “And building all the shelves and stands?”

Another shrug. “I had time to spare.”

“Setting up the counters and sink in the back?”

“I wouldn’t dream of letting a friend do that alone.”

“Yes, because friends is what we are,” Elain’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

That was deserving of a lengthier answer at least. “You’re opening in five minutes, do we need to have this conversation right now?”

Elain felt her heart squeeze. “Are you anticipating it’s going to be a long one?” She asked carefully.

“No.” The lack of hesitation in Azriel’s response helped her settle. “I’m anticipating we’re going to spend a lot of time not talking.”

“Oh,” Elain realized and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Her face burned and she knew she must have been red, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Flip the sign, El.” Azriel nodded to the door. “Today is about you, and your new start here. Tonight we can talk, and not talk, if you’re up for it.”

“It’s a plan.”

Elain turned her newly painted sign so it would show the word “open” to the people on the street and wiped her sweaty hands on her clean apron. She walked around the stand in the middle one last time, checking that every flower was in the right place before she went to stand behind the counter.

Azriel sat on a stool close behind her and surveyed the street through the window. It wasn’t busy with how early it was, but Elain’s heart was still hammering in her chest as she waited for her very first customer.

Her sisters and their husbands had all promised to stop by for the opening; Elain had asked them to wait until the afternoon. She didn’t want her first sale to be to them, she needed a real client, enticed by her window display or whatever else could drive them in.

The shop was silent. They waited five minutes, then ten, then twenty. People walked past on their way to work, too busy on their phones or running to catch a bus to look toward the shop. Minute by minute, Elain’s hope for a successful first day deflated.

She hadn’t expected a crowd, but someone—anyone would have been nice. They didn’t even need to buy, just come in, say hello and maybe something nice about the shop or the arrangements Elain had spent hours making.

“Is it always this quiet?” Elain eventually broke and turned to face Azriel.

“It’s not even nine,” he reminded her. “You’re seeing the working crowd rush past, but the rest will be out soon.”

“I guess,” she nodded. “Do you think I should have put something outside?”

“Do you want me to put on a giant flower costume and go flip a big sign pointing to the shop?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elain rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. The idea of Azriel who was always dressed in black in some ugly flower costume was enough to make her want to laugh again. She knew he’d do it for her—even as a joke—if she really asked. “I’ll just wait.”

“It won’t be long,”

“Sure,” she walked back to the front of the shop to get a better look at the town square. “You don’t have to stay here, by the way. It’s not very exciting right now.”

“It’s your first day, there’s nowhere else for me to be.”

Elain smiled, pretending to detangle the golden pothos that hung in close to the window. “Who knew you’d be so awfully romantic.”

“I’m sitting in a flower shop with a woman in a long pink dress, I figured romance might be your thing.” Azriel tapped his fingers on his thigh, head cocked to the side with a knowing smile.

He wasn’t wrong, but Elain had already learned he was more sensitive than he let on. “Don’t go pretending you’re cold hearted yourself.”

“Definitely not with you.”

She snorted. “You’re getting mushy again.”

“Stop deflecting, El.”

“You’re the one who said we should talk later tonight, now you’re distracting me—” Elain faced him with her fists on her hips. “You’re distracting me.”

“It worked,” Azriel gave her a slightly guilty look, but it was edged with a smile. “Though I can try harder if you’d like.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Will you?” He licked his lips and looked her up and down.

Elain felt a rush of heat blaze beneath her skin. She didn’t move as he got up from his stool, suddenly making them much more aware of the size difference between them. He stalked closer, her eyes fixated on him with every step he took. A predatory grin spread on his face, and Elain would have melted on the spot if it hadn’t been for the gentle chime of the bell she’d installed above the door.

“Good morning!” She slipped into her cheerful persona in an instant, greeting the woman and toddler who were just entering her shop.

Azriel disappeared, silent as he slipped behind the counter and hid in the back of the shop. He was probably eavesdropping to find out if her first customer bought anything, but at least he wouldn’t be a distraction when she needed her focus.

“Hi!” The toddler exclaimed and waved just as the woman said a soft hello.

“If you need advice or help finding anything, don’t hesitate to let me know,” Elain gave her most charming smile and tucked herself behind the counter so her customers wouldn’t feel too watched as they went around the shop.

The woman let go of the child’s hand, letting him walk past plants and bouquets. She gently placed a hand in front of his when he tried to reach for a yellow flower, reminding him that they were fragile and he couldn’t just grab it. Elain smiled at the exchange.

She remembered being young and wanting to pick every pretty flower she found, whether they grew wildly in a field or in a big decorative pot in the middle of a street. Her parents never had that gentleness when scolding her.

“What do you think, this one or this one?” The woman asked from behind the stand, holding two bouquets Elain couldn’t see. The young boy didn’t hesitate and was trusted to carry the bouquet all the way to the counter.

“Thank you,” Elain leaned over to grab it when he held it up as high as his little arms could. “That’s a very good choice.”

It was made of pink peonies, some fern and foliage to make the pastel colors stand out. The bouquet was classic—simple but pretty.

“Did you find everything you needed today?” She began to wrap a pretty pale pink paper around the bouquet and tied it off with a brighter ribbon in matching tones.

“Yes, thank you,” the woman smiled. “This is a beautiful shop, I’ve never seen it before. Did you open recently?”

“Thank you so much, I just opened this morning,” Elain beamed.

“Well we’ll make sure to come by again.” The woman pulled out her credit card as Elain told her what the total was and handed her a card to go with the bouquet in case she wanted to write a note.

“That would be lovely, and oh, hold on a second,” she stepped through the small alcove to the back of the shop, grinning at Azriel who leaned against a wall to wait, and retrieved a yellow flower identical to the one the little boy had reached for.

“Oh,” the woman smiled. “Look at that!”

“This is for you,” Elain went around the counter and bent to the child’s height.

“Thank you,” he gave her a toothy grin as his mother reached for the bouquet she had just bought.

“Thank you,” the woman echoed. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

Elain waited until the door was completely closed to let out an excited squeal. She turned around to find Azriel already close and threw her arms around his neck. His hands rested on her back, pulling her closer as he kissed her temple.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Elain breathed out, still grinning. She pulled out of the hug and shook her hands out excitedly. “God I know it’s just one sale but that felt really good.”

“Step one to the most successful flower shop in the city. I think we’re going to need a celebratory dinner tonight.” Azriel smiled back.

“I agree.” She checked her apron was still in place and glanced towards the door to see if they were still alone. “I can also think of other ways to celebrate after dinner.”

“Enlighten me.”

The chime of the door was just in time to save Elain from the rush of blood that was sure to make her cheeks bright red. Azriel retreated, but she knew he’d continue their conversation the moment they were alone again. The push and pull would go on for the entire day, as if there wasn’t already enough anticipation between them.

Elain would need all of her patience to resist falling right into him before closing time.

#elriel #elriel fic #acotar writing circle #elriel fluff #elriel fanficiton #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elain x azriel #elain archeron x azriel

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years ago

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Part 13

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 12 🍂 Part 14

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: confusing family dynamics

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae Keeps me busy! I owe 17 now, too! You go girll!!!

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990

“Babe, there is no way I have room for all of these clothes,” Patrick said as Jules pulled yet another box from the car.

“Well, you’d think they wouldn’t fit in her apartment, either, but here we are.” You put the next box – also labeled ‘clothes’ – on the floor in the hallway.

“Please tell me these are the last ones?” You both laughed at the way he said it. He looked around the hallway, which was filled with boxes, most of them containing parts of Jules’ wardrobe, and sighed.

“It was the last trip, but Sy’s still on his way,” Julie said as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend.

“With some furniture,” you added quickly, “Jesus, Jules, you’re going to give the man a heart attack.”

As it turned out, ‘moving in with someone’ was just code for ‘yelling at your partner while your friends did all the real work’. And not even in the privacy of any room you weren’t in, nope; right in front of you.

“If they’re not done by the time we put this closet back together, I’m makin’ popcorn,” Sy whispered at you – but not softly enough.

“Sy, stay out of this.” Jules definitely wasn’t happy. To be fair, she was in the right, and Patrick was being stubborn. You rolled your eyes at Sy. “Lara, what do you think?”

“Hell no, doll,” Patrick said before you could even tell Jules you weren’t getting mixed up in their argument, “I don’t get backup, you don’t get backup.” That made you scoff. There was no way Sy would side with him.

“What’s funny, Sugar?” Sy said with a look on his face that was suspicious at best… Oh my God, he thought Pat was right? You raised an eyebrow as your mouth literally fell open.

“You’re with him on this?” you managed.

“It is his house,” Sy replied.

“I think both of them living here kinda makes it their house, and it doesn’t make sense to have friends sleep on the couch when you’ve got an empty room and a second bed!” It was unbelievable that your first fight at a couple not only took place at a friend’s house, but was also on the topic of what they should do with their spare room.

“Patrick, I need one more door between him and us. You can have your man-cave when he’s out.” She glared at Sy before walking out of the room. Pat slammed his hand down on Sy’s shoulder so hard you almost felt it, but Sy didn’t even flinch.

“So, you haven’t found anything yet?” Sy shook his head at his friend.

After the adventure of moving Jules into Patrick’s place, the four of you focused your attention on planning the weekend camping trip the boys had been talking about. They were also mostly the ones planning it – neither you nor Julie knew anything about camping. That didn’t mean you weren’t excited to go; Sy had shown you some pictures of the area, and it looked absolutely beautiful.

“It’s not too far from where Sy and Patrick grew up, actually,” Julie told you.

“They grew up together?” You were surprised no one had ever brought that up. It definitely wasn’t a secret that they were close, and they owned the company together and everything, but you had no idea they’d been friends since childhood.

“Yeah,” Julie said, “Pat’s dad started work at Sy’s grandfather’s ranch when he was sixteen or so. Became really close friends with Sy’s dad.” Oh, so their dads were besties? Cool…

“And he became even better acquainted with my dad’s eldest sister.” Sy sat down next to you and put an arm around your shoulder. You loved it when he did that; something about feeling the weight of his arm on you relaxed you.

“’Better acquainted’ as in…” You almost refused to believe what you were hearing. Not because it was so hard to believe it was true – it was kind of a mild story, actually – but because no one had ever bothered to tell you this. “You’re cousins.”

“The way my old man tells it, Uncle Johnny was mad as all hell when dad started going out with ma.”

“Which my dad doesn’t deny, by the way,” Sy added, “it’s just that in his version, he beats the shit out of Uncle Rick.”

“Wait, are you both named after your fathers?” Sy and Patrick both nodded – and grinned when they saw the incredulous look on your face.

“Eldest son, right? My full name is Jonathan George Syverson,” Sy laughed, “Named after both my father and my grandfather.” You almost laughed at hearing his full name. Hearing his first name was weird enough, or his full last name, even.

“Wait, who’s your father named after, then?” you asked. Jules quickly raised her hands before either of the guys could answer.

“Lara, stop!” She pointed at the innocent eyes Sy and Patrick were conjuring up. “They can do this for hours. And it wouldn’t even be a start in preparing you for whatever kind of family gathering you’re no doubt going to be dragged along to. Oh my God!” She suddenly seemed really excited about something. “I don’t have to do those alone anymore!”

Sy pulled you close. “She’s right, Sugar, we can do this for hours, I’m sorry.”

“And you won’t have to do any family gatherings anytime soon, doll,” Patrick said. “We’re doin’ the holidays over at your parents’ if you don’t mind…” All three of them laughed as if that was supposed to mean something, but to you, it didn’t.

“Wait, why?”

“My youngest sister just got married and had her first kid.” Whoa? Kids?

“You’re an uncle?” You looked at Pat wide-eyed. That was not something you’d heard before.

“Three times over,” Jules answered. You must have looked surprised, because she continued: “Sy has more nieces and nephews.”

“Wait, you have siblings?” How had this never come up?

“Five of ‘em. Three sisters, two brothers – they’re twins.” Sy laughed apologetically. You thought back to any time he’d mentioned his family. He had talked about a sister twice, and about his brother once, you had just assumed they were the only ones. “And a combined…” You could tell he was counting; he mumbled some things you couldn’t make out, and he was almost hesitant in his final answer: “ten nieces and nephews.” Ten? Ten?

“So, you’re Uncle John, too?” You were curious now. Pat and Sy both shook their heads, and then looked at Jules.

“He’s uncle Sy, right?” She clearly wasn’t entirely sure, but the guys nodded.

“Why do you go by Sy, anyway?” You asked. A couple more of these questions and you’d start to sound like Julie, with her infernal interrogations.

“When I got to middle school, there were six Johnathan’s in my class. Refused to listen to my full name, couldn’t go by my middle name because I have a brother named Georgie, so… Sy.” That made so little sense to you that you just nodded with a blank expression on your face.

“And it stuck,” Pat added, “even his mother calls him Sy now.”

“But wait, back to the start,” you said as you suddenly remembered something, “what was the connection between your sister being married and having a baby, and you guys not going to family gatherings?”

“Oh, they just hand you the newest baby and start telling you several million times ‘how good it looks on you’ and ‘when are you two finally getting married?’ and all that kind of stuff.” Jules shuddered.

“Besides, they’re living in sin now,” Sy said. Somehow, the look on his face kept you from laughing – or from even believing that he was joking.

“You’re kidding, right?” you asked just to be sure. To your surprise, they all shook their heads.

“Nana – our grandma – would throw a fit. I think Meemaw – our great grandma – might actually die.”

“She survived Uncle Charlie’s wedding,” Pat said, and you were officially lost. You looked at Jules for help, who quickly clarified the situation with the word ‘gay’. After about another half hour of this, your head was spinning with all kinds of information about a whole bunch Syversons – and some of the Dawsons. It turned out Sy’s dad had a brother and two sisters, and those two sisters combined had seven children, some of whom also had children. Why were there so many? And why was every other woman either named Mary-something or something-Marie?

“We’ll draw it out sometime,” Sy said as he watched your understanding slowly drain away. Yes, that would be good. Probably wouldn’t make it any less intimidating, but at least it would be clear…

“Hey, I found some listings for you,” Julie sounded sweet as she dropped a small pile of paper on the table in front of Sy. She couldn’t hide her ulterior motive, and she didn’t have to. Sy knew she wanted him out of the house as soon as possible, and who could blame her? She’d just moved in with her boyfriend, and he was absolutely an inconvenience, he couldn’t deny that. But none of the houses he’d looked at so far were right… He flipped through the papers Jules had given him. He found something wrong with every last one of them within seconds.

“Are you even looking for a place, Sy?” She put her hands on her hips, that was never a good sign.

“I am, look,” he turned his laptop so she could see the screen.

“Those are rentals,” Jules said. She was clearly surprised, which wasn’t strange. Sy hated renting, she knew that for a fact. Everyone who had talked to him for more than five minutes probably knew that. But here he was, nodding in reply to her question. “You’re looking to buy.” Sy shrugged. “Everything that’s for sale is…” He made a vague gesture instead of finishing his sentence. Jules rolled her eyes. Everything for sale was missing that one thing…

#syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fic #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill

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thepixarau · 2 years ago

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My little review of “Elemental” (spoilers!)

Imma be honest my expectations weren’t insanely high. I wasn’t expecting it to be fantastic but I didn’t think it would be bad (Pixar movies almost never are) so I just went in neutral. I saw it with my friends and before we went in they kept bashing it solely bc of how bad the promos are—and honestly they’re right. The marketing for this movie sucks. Do not let any of it fool you, please watch this film. I guarantee you will end up enjoying it.

Now I know everyone was making fun of the character designs since the first teaser was released. I’ll admit some of the background characters are a little lazy and while the designs could’ve been better, the animation made up for it because holy shit is it beautiful. The visuals are absolutely stunning, and I just love the way the characters move and interact with each other and their environment. I can’t imagine how tough it was to animate all of that, especially when your main protagonist is made of fire and therefore is always moving in some way.

I won’t go too much into the whole interracial relationship/struggles of multicultural families aspect because I feel like other people reviewing this movie can explain it so much better than me, but I gotta say really appreciate the fact Elemental had a romance plot but still focuses on the values and importance of family, especially because in most kids films they choose to solely focus on one or the other. I’m glad media is showcasing familial love but not completely abandoning romantic love either.

I’ve seen a lot of people try and compare this to Zootopia, I guess cuz it takes place in a metropolis city and features a mixed ‘race’ main duo and racism/oppression allegories. Honestly tho a lot of movies do this, it’s not a “rip off” of Zootopia cuz it takes place in a city. In Zootopia the city is a prime focus, it’s almost like it’s own character. The whole point is that it’s a place special to mammals because it’s where dreams can come true, where all animals live in harmony together. It’s a dream home for its main character who has to come to terms with the fact it’s not a perfect place. Elemental isn’t as focused on its location and that’s ok. It’s a sanctuary for Ember’s parents when they first arrive, but overall the story isn’t about the city.

Ok now I’ll get to the part you’re here for; Ember and Wade’s story. Wholehearted truth; I love their dynamic and development so much. I definitely felt like they needed more screentime at first (to me the pacing in general was a little rushed in the beginning, then slowed down towards the middle). Call me a hopeless romantic but I’m just sucker for that forbidden love type shit. I’ve seen people try and call this a Romeo and Juliet romcom but I didn’t personally get that from them. I can see why some might interpret it that way cuz they were hiding it from Ember’s dad, Bernie. But really, I wish we’d stop comparing every forbidden relationship to Romeo & Juliet cuz A. that play is so fucked up and is barely a love story and B. there are a million tales of forbidden love out there, it’s intriguing. It sells well for a reason and if you do it right it makes an amazing story!

Anyway, I really adore their dynamic. It’s so refreshing to see a non-married couple say “I love you” in a Disney movie. It’s a simple yet deep, beautiful expression of one’s feelings, I was not expecting them to go that route but I’m so happy they did. I’m even more happy they kissed (I was trying so hard not to squeal at that part, you don’t even know)

I’ll be going on and on about how cute Ember and Wade are on this blog. I’m super excited to add them to the Pixar AU, can’t WAIT to write all kinds of one shots about them tehe.

Sorry if you were expecting a more deep and profound review, I’m just here expressing my thoughts five hours after leaving the theater. I plan on going to see it again sometime so maybe I’ll have more to say after that.

Overall I definitely recommend giving this one a chance. Don’t listen to critics or dumbasses on tik tok, go see it! For me this movie already has a special place in my heart and I hope you guys will enjoy it as much as I did!

#elemental #pixar elemental #pixar #spoilers #elemental spoilers #wade ripple #ember lumen #queue infinity and beyond!

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everlastingdreams · 2 years ago

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Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart Chapter 25

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: An Alluring Proposition

Notes: /

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +130K

Chapter: 25 / 27

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Around midday, you went to see where that Ash Man had vanished off to and found him, along with Gawain, in the small field behind the fort.

They were sparring and both were very focused on it as well. Gawain fought like a warrior but tried to always keep a distance. Lancelot on the other hand showed no fear for getting close and personal.

Where Lancelot was distant in day to day life towards others, his true nature shined through in battle.

Gawain, much like his heart, remained wary at all times.

It was interesting to watch it happen.

In a way, the two opposites fitted well together, no wonder they got along quite well.

The knight would block an attack and the Ash Man would throw himself into the spar with more vigour.

The way Lancelot fought, like his feet rarely touched the ground, was much like a dancer.

There was an elegance in his fighting that you’d never seen before.

What had once been a task forced upon him since childhood had now become an activity to have some entertainment with a friend.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the way he moved and the confidence…

It wasn’t until you became aware of your staring that you forced your attention to the grass for a little while. Your face felt hot and it wasn’t the only response your body had to seeing him like this.

Your gaze had glided over him more than once and left your legs a little unstable.

Once they noticed your presence, the sparring stopped and Lancelot said something to Gawain before walking over.

He touched your arm and led you a couple of steps further away “I have something to show you.”

Off in the shadow, against a tree, were a couple of swords made from wood.

He picked one up and presented it to you “The woodworker is making more. They are excellent for practice. See how similar they are to the real ones?”

While he presented you the sword, he noticed you seemed rather…flustered?

The swords were indeed impressive, they were made to look and act as a weapon, but the blade wasn’t sharp.

Lancelot appeared excited, he must have wished he had these during his upbringing instead of having to dodge the steel.

You plucked the sword from his hands to examine it, not even a splinter was on it “Do you plan on teaching the children here?”

He sounded quite pensive about the idea “They would fear me less.”

It sounded like a good plan to you “I think you should. You’re already teaching Percival and planning to teach Neia. If other children see, they will approach you too.”

He gave a witty comment “As you approached me all those years ago.”

That was true…

You handed him back the sword “See. A child’s curiosity is often stronger than their fear. And once they know of your magic, they’ll be coming at you like flies.”

The possibility brought a shy smile to his face “You believe so?”

With a hum, you confirmed it “I do.”

His eyes fell on the sword, clearly considering the idea “I will teach anyone who wishes to learn. The children are the future of the Fey, but we have to build a world that is safe for them.”

“Well said.” You admired the wisdom.

There was the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

You noticed it and how he was trying not to smirk “What?”

He was not going to speak of it, but now that you had asked…

Lancelot watched your reaction like a hawk “You were staring while I was sparring with Gawain just now.”

This was just an attempt to tease you.

You didn’t let it happen and were forward with the truth “You move well. Graceful.”

He hadn’t expected the truth to be spoken so openly “Thank you.”

It clicked not a second later that that must have been the reason why you had appeared so flustered.

The compliment had meant more than flattery about his skill with the sword.

Should he reciprocate this polite flirtation?

Even now, you often had to look aside or risk staring again. Since living here, he looked healthier.

A healthy color. More calm and yet more energetic.

The confidence grew in him, especially when it came to being around others.

And physically he had gotten much better too, he wasn’t dehydrated like he often would be from all the work he did for the Church.

No, he was taking better care of his health and it was visible to the eye.

His skin, his eyes and even his hair, it all carried a healthy glow.

Your eyes had fixed on him again.

This time he did not hide the smirk “You keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” You asked, mentally scolding yourself for how your voice had wavered.

There had been a change in your scent, faint but enough to set his mind into a spin.

Lancelot lowered his voice and leaned a bit closer “You do not have to pretend, I know what is on your mind.”

Any hint of doubt on that disappeared when he, not so subtly, let his gaze roam over you.

You didn’t know where to look anymore after that.

That sudden shyness was quite alluring to witness.

After regaining your confidence, you casually asked “How do you know?”

That curve in the corner of his lips now warned you.

The knowing look in his eyes said it all “The mark is not the only thing responding to me, your body is too.”

It took a moment for it to dawn on you what he had meant and when it did, you resisted the urge to flee from the spot.

His sense of smell couldn’t possibly…

You had crossed your arms in front of your chest, it made you feel quite exposed to know that he could sense something as personal as that.

He saw the instant flicker of self-consciousness in your eyes.

Should he have kept quiet? It was not his intention to cause embarrassment.

When you took one small step away, alarm flashed through his expression.

Lancelot closed the distance at once “Forgive me-”

You shook your head “I know you can’t help it.”

He opened his mouth to speak but the chance was stolen from him when Gawain came to stand between you.

“Mind if I spar with y/n?” Gawain suddenly asked.

You were surprised at the request and willing to jump into action now that the chance was offered.

The Ash Man was slow to reply, betraying his reluctance to approve of it “I do not.” he put the wooden sword in Gawain’s hands “Use these.”

Then another was put into yours.

The knight looked at him incredulous “Lancelot-”

He would not yield on this “She has yet to learn, Gawain. Be careful.”

You wished he would have just let you use your sword instead of letting it sit at your side like decoration.

You gave a quiet sigh at your intended “I will be fine.”

Lancelot dryly answered “Yes, you will be. Because you will not use steel.”

The sword was stolen from your side and planted into the ground a little further away by him.

Then he gave Gawain an expecting look and the knight drew his sword before sticking it into the soil as well.

Of course Gawain did not do it without remarking “I will ignore your lack of trust. Rest assured I would never hurt the future queen of the Ash Folk.”

With wide eyes you stared at them both, Lancelot let the comment slide.

An Ashen Queen…

“Come on, don’t fall asleep on me.” Gawain taunted when you were lost in thought for a blink.

You held the wooden sword just like Lancelot had taught you and surprised Gawain by being the first to step forward and try to strike.

Of course he dodged the wood with ease, it had been a purposely slow hit.

And so the sparring commenced.

Gawain was cautious and couldn’t resist giving some advice here and there.

At one point it turned more into a lesson than a spar, with slow movements that he helped you with.

All of it happened under a pair of watchful eyes.

The knight called out to the Ash Man “I won’t cut off her limbs with this sword.”

Lancelot dropped his attention to the ground.

Had it been so obvious that he was worried and ready to step in if anything went wrong?

Gawain was skilled in battle just like him, surely he had enough control too.

As a sign of faith and trust in Gawain, he tore his attention away from the sparring and noticed Arthur walking over to him.

Arthur came to stand beside Lancelot, after a moment of talking, they walked off together. There must have been something Arthur needed help with or something he wished to show.

Gawain continued to teach you some basics, how to block an attack and what not to do.

After a little while of this, you voiced your grievance “I wish I could just use my own sword. These wooden ones aren’t bad, but Lancelot gave me a sword and now it feels like he is afraid of me using it.”

The knight heard your concern “He’s afraid you might get hurt.”

You pointed out the flaw in this “I will get hurt if I don’t learn how to fight with my own weapon.” your voice betrayed the sadness it was causing “He promised he would teach me…”

And now it felt like he was growing reluctant…

Gawain took pity on you and went over to where your sword stuck out of the ground, he pulled it free and came to hand it to you “I understand his concern. And I understand yours as well. You’re right, it is best to learn with steel but it is dangerous.”

You looked down as he placed your sword in your hands “Then let’s not spar. Maybe just show me some things?”

Gawain approved of the idea and went to collect his sword as well “Alright. But do as I say and move slow. Understood?”

You nodded and agreed to the terms.

The tricks he showed were easy to learn for a beginner, the swords collided slowly.

After some practice on a certain trick, he allowed the pace to quicken.

Again and again it was the same trick, repeating it over and over until you got the hang of it and were able to do it in normal speed.

And let that be the unfortunate time when Lancelot returned to the spot. Gawain was fast enough to stop.

But you were disarmed, grabbed and then pulled along by a furious Ash Man.

He didn’t manage to get you far before you tore yourself from his grasp.

“Don’t drag me off!” You snapped at him.

His reply carried the fury “It is the only way to stop you from getting yourself killed!”

Did he really believe you were so incompetent? “I am not a child, Lancelot! Don’t treat me as one.”

It slipped from him “Stop behaving as one.”

By walking away, you showed how done you were with listening to him after that.

He did not let it go and intended to follow, it was Gawain that stopped him from doing so.

The knight did not approve of the way he had reacted “Calm down! She was never in any danger. You know I wouldn’t cause her harm!”

Lancelot bit the words at him “Then why go behind my back with this?!”

Gawain kept a calm head “Can’t you see that you are hurting her with this? She just wants to do what we do, you can’t keep excluding her just because you fear she might get hurt. I know you want to protect her. But remember what you said to me once, she is not as helpless as she pretends to be to some.”

He stepped away from Gawain, not acknowledging that he had in fact listened to the advice.

You were already walking past the stables by the time Lancelot caught up with you “I can’t believe you did that.” you spun around to face him “It’s humiliating! If you had stopped for one second, then you would have seen that we were being very careful!”

His own fury had not simmered down fully “Not long ago, you were struck down by a rock! It is unwise to be doing this! One moment of vertigo and you could have been struck by the blade!”

Why did he always have to be so overprotective? Why couldn’t he just have let you ‘spar’ with Gawain?

Your frustration matched his “No. I trust in Gawain’s ability! Besides, have you forgotten how you vanished in the middle of the night with Red Spear to try and kill Wicklow? How come you can take these great risks, but when I take a little one you act like this?!? I am starting to get the feeling that you just don’t want me near a weapon at all! I can’t rely on you being there to protect me all the time, I need to learn to protect myself!”

He met it with silence, mostly because this was drawing the attention of people who were passing by.

“Forget this.” You quietly muttered, hating to argue with someone.

When you proceed to walk away, he caught up with you.

His hand on your arm stopped you, he appeared calmer “Come.”

You saw him gesture to the stables and he let go.

By your own free will, you choose to follow him inside.

He closed the large wooden door with some difficulty and put his attention back on you “I will not keep you from the sword.”

You were surprised to hear it “You’re saying-”

Lancelot paced around a bit “I cannot always be there to keep you safe, you were right about that. I want you to learn how to wield a sword so well that enemies will fear you at the sight of it.”

There was an issue for him, you could tell “But?”

The confession took a while to come “Your bravery in the face of danger worries me. I fear one day I will lose you to it.”

The sliver of anger still rang in your words “I fear the same for you. But I will not take your weapons or forbid you to spar with a friend.”

He crossed the small distance and stood before you “I am not treating you fairly.”

He came to the conclusion on his own.

You nodded “Please, believe me when I say that I won’t deliberately put myself in mortal danger. I care for you far too much to put you through such a thing. I haven’t forgotten how upset you were when I wanted to go after Wicklow myself.”

Your sword was offered back to you by him.

The apology came along with it “I am sorry for behaving the way that I have.”

You sheathed your sword back in it’s holster “You were concerned for me.”

He wouldn’t hear how it would be brushed off “That does not excuse it. Protecting you is one thing, I should not be shielding you from everything in life out of fear that something could go wrong.”

Finally he understood…because he had listened.

You brought your arms around him and nested yourself into his chest when he closed his arms around you.

He said it so matter-of-factually “I do enjoy to see you stand your ground against me. Your eyes spit fire when you are angry.”

Your eyes narrowed at that audible change in tone, his voice had deepened, his hands were low on your back “Those hands are getting quite low there, Ash Man.”

His breath touched your temple “Too low?”

You teased without shame “Too high.”

The invite could not have been more blatantly obvious.

You hooked your finger into the collar of his shirt, damning the aketon he wore to protect himself, the only thing you could touch was some of his collarbone.

He caught your hand and stated “You are trembling.”

You weren’t even aware until he mentioned it “At nightfall, will I be welcome to visit your room?”

Lancelot offered an excuse for you to use “You fear it will be cold tonight?”

Your honesty took him off-guard “No. I want some time alone with my intended.”

He loved to hear that “I see.”

You scrambled all your courage together and lightly tugged at the aketon “And without this.”

His brow arched, eyes fixed on your face with great interest “Anything else?”

The smugness was dripping from his expression and increased your boldness.

Your gaze traveled over him, slow and in appreciation of what it saw “Yes.”

The next breath was forced into his lungs, his head tilted to the side.

Curiosity was flooding him.

When you released him from the embrace, one hand left your back and cupped your neck, his thumb trailed from your chin down your throat.

He played with words “What is my intended intending to do?”

You thought about it for a moment and got an idea “How is your back, does it still hurt sometimes?”

Where were you going with this?

“Sometimes.” He admitted, finding the truth slip out of him under your enchanting gaze.

The offer glided of your tongue like silk lathered in honey “I will get some salve from the infirmary and make sure it feels better by tomorrow morning.”

You’d never seen his pupils enlarge so much before.

The smug look was replaced with one so innocent that you could hardly wait until tonight.

He cast his attention to the ground for a moment to collect his thoughts and to wait for his voice to return.

Those weeping eyes returned to yours, he traced his thumb under your bottom lip “That is very kind of you to offer.”

You broke free from his touch, wishing to save that building tension for tonight “I think I will go and see if Gawain is still willing to spar with me for a while…”

His thoughts were rather preoccupied now and he slowly nodded “Be careful?”

You smiled “I swear it.”

Now that he seemed more at peace with it, you went to walk past him and out of the stables.

You made it to the door and opened it a few inches before it was pushed shut again by him.

You could feel his presence right behind you and a second later you felt him against your back.

With an arm around your form he held you close.

He nosed your hair and you heard him inhale quietly.

“You smell so good.” He had let his voice drop into that husk.

The shiver that ran down your spin had you turning on your feet and softly pushing him back again “I’d better not hear you tell anyone else that you can sense what is going on with my body.”

His eyes betrayed where his mind was going “It will be our secret.”

It was noticeably affecting him to know what was happening and why…

Still your face burned at thought of it “Swear it!”

The smug smirk curved his lips again “You have my word.”

He’d better keep to his word…

You tapped against your cheek with the tip of your index finger “Now, before I go…”

Had you ever seen him so puzzled before?

When it took too long for him to understand the hint, you playfully reached out and tapped against his lips before tapping against your cheek again.

He chuckled at his slow response and gave what you had asked of him.

It was a miracle he had enough self-restraint to end it with the polite kiss to the cheek, because you got the sense that he wished to do more.

Again you opened the door, with some difficulty from the rusted hinges, and this time he let you walk out of the stables.

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This time he had let you spar with Gawain in peace.

Afterwards he did mention that he would correct any faults that the knight had taught you later, while Gawain was there to hear it.

It had led to the following conversation.

~“And exactly what faults would that be?”~

Lancelot had failed to detect the sarcasm in the knight’s question.

~“Mostly your footing.”~

Of course that had led to a spar between them again. They could bicker like brothers and Gawain hated how smug Lancelot could be about his skill with the sword, so he always tried to teach the Ash Man a lesson in modesty.

But from experience, you knew those lessons would be forgotten quite soon again.

You left them to their foolishness and headed into the fort.

How odd, you had not seen Percival or Neia since breakfast, usually they would search for you or Lancelot a couple of times during the day. How suspicious…

You made a beeline to Percival’s room, finding it empty.

On your way to Neia’s room, you ran into Arthur and asked “Arthur, have you seen Neia or Percival? I haven’t seen them since this morning.”

Arthur did not recall seeing them either “I haven’t. Have you been to Percival’s room?”

“I have. No one was there.” You were getting worried “I was on my way to see if they were in Neia’s room.”

He touched your elbow “Come on, we’ll go together.”

In a haste, you made your way towards Neia’s room.

The screams of children rang from beyond the door and you feared they were injured.

Neither you nor Arthur moved after you had barged into the room.

Chicken feathers rained down from the air to the floor, hay covered the carpet in the room. Inside where Percival and Neia, who had ruined their pillows in a battle between them.

Arthur quietly blurted out to you “Gawain will lose his mind if he sees this.”

“Uhuh.” You nodded.

The two children looked as caught and guilty as could be, the linen in their hands that had once been pillows were now almost completely empty.

You looked at Arthur, Arthur looked at you, clearly neither of you knew how to respond to this situation appropriately.

Neia jumped down from her bed she was standing on and rubbed her arm.

Percival stood frozen in place and swallowed audibly.

“There’s four of us.” You looked at Arthur pleadingly.

He understood what was being asked “Double the hands, lessen the work.”

You clapped your hands together “Alright everyone, let’s start collecting feathers and hay. Just put them back in the fabric.”

To your surprise, the children did not protest and got to work right away.

The task was actually far less tedious than first expected, it was quite pleasant to spent time with Percival and Neia like this, working together to reach a common goal.

Of course you did mention that you’d prefer this not to happen again, but didn’t jump to a harsh response when they seemed willing to fix the situation.

Once it was done, you took the children out of the room and suggested they played the pebble game instead until it was time for dinner.

They took the idea to heart and went outside to play.

“Thanks for helping.” You told Arthur.

“You’re welcome.” Arthur made a slight bow of the head “Speaking of help, would you mind helping me out with carrying the new wooden swords that the woodworker has finished to the fort? I think Gawain asked for a lot to be made, I got word some were finished.”

It wasn’t a long walk from the woodworker’s shop to the fort so that didn’t sound bad “Not a problem, I will help. Do we go and fetch them now or?”

Arthur was glad to hear it “Oh, now would be perfect. I’ve got some time.”

“Great. Let’s go.” You began to walk with him to the exit of the fort.

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After three trips back and forth from the woodworker, you had to agree that Gawain had indeed asked for A LOT of these wooden swords. After seeing the quantities, Arthur and you decided to store them in the shed next to the stables.

With all that work done, you were done for the day. Thankfully, the children had worn themselves out enough to have gone to bed on their own.

You had grabbed some soup for dinner and decided to slurp that up in your room while letting your legs rest.

It was a risky situation to drink soup while just having changed into your nightgown, if it spilled you’d have your work cut out for you to get the stains out of the white fabric.

Afterwards, you spend some time washing up and erasing the signs of the days work.

You intended to honor what you had offered Lancelot today.

Like a thief in the night, you sneaked towards the door at the end of the hallway. The bowl of salve was in your hands thanks to Pym, you had kept it close to a candle to make sure it wasn’t too cold.

Quietly you knocked on the door and prayed it woke no other.

The door creaked open and made you wince and look around in a slight panic.

Lancelot held it open for you, with a slight head tilt he welcomed you into his room.

Right away you walked in like the place was your own and placed the bowl of salve on the small bedside table, then you took the candle from the dresser it was one and placed it beside the bowl.

“I am trying to keep the salve warm, so it won’t be uncomfortable for you.” You explained.

He arched a brow, smile growing on his lips “How very thoughtful. I assume you were serious with your offer today then?”

Had he thought you’d forget the offer?

Oh, no, you had planned everything to make this as pleasant as it could be.

“I am.” You gestured to the shirt he was wearing “If you are still interested, you may remove your shirt and settle into bed.”

An audible breath of air escaped him, visibly overtaken by nervousness.

You warmed your hands near the flame, and without looking back at him, you patted a hand on the bed playfully “I won’t bite.”

Had you forgotten how you had once bitten him when he had wanted to help you up from the ground back at the monastery?

After fighting back most of his nerves, he pulled the shirt over his head and draped it over the foot of the bed.

There he stood with great uncertainty.

You turned around upon sensing it “Lay stomach down and make yourself comfortable. I’ll do the rest.”

With some directions, it went smoother for him.

For him, laying stomach down wasn’t something he was much fond of, he could never fall asleep in this position.

It was too easy for an enemy to overpower him in his sleep.

Once the salve felt decently warm, you approached the bed and warned him “Don’t be frightened. And if you want me to stop, tell me and I will.”

He gave a nod and dug his fingers in the sheet below him where you could not see.

He had believed you would just sit beside him while doing this. To his grant surprise you straddled his hips instead, placing one knee at either side of him.

Needless to say, he was taken aback and also reminded of how much more comfortable and open you were with matter such as these.

You let one drop of the warm salve drip down on his back and he jolted a bit “Warm enough?”

“Yes.” He sounded quite approving.

It pleased you to hear it “Perfect.”

With caution you began to put the salve where it was needed most first.

There was no haste in you, each scar was giving a first layer of the thin substance until it was absorbed fully into his skin.

He did mention that the scars became less sensitive once the salve was on them. Still you worked with feather light touches of your fingers.

Only after all of them had received their first layer of salve and not a trace of it was left visible to the eye, you poured some in your hands.

You warned him again before continuing “I will be careful. But if it hurts-”

He already felt himself relax significantly “I would tell you.”

The playful praise fell out of your mouth “Very good.”

Down you brought your hands, palms coated in the aromatic salve to relieve the pain and stress from his back.

Of course you couldn’t resist giving a playful pat here and there, he underwent it all without a single complaint.

The muscles near his shoulder and neck were the most tense and were given more attention to sooth them.

He was barely able to muffle the satisfied groan that tumbled out of him.

The kneading of your hands had him silent, you continued to do so long after the salve had run out.

Seeing him so comfortable like this felt like a victory.

Still, you did not expect him to fall asleep and yet he did.

“Lancelot?” You leaned down to whisper and upon seeing him well asleep it took some effort not to giggle and accidentally wake him.

It was a small challenge to crawl off of him carefully and place yourself next to him on the bed.

You moved the sheets over him to keep him warm.

Well, either it had bored him to sleep or he enjoyed it so much that this was the result, you preferred to believe it was the latter.

Whilst laying on your side to watch him sleep, it crossed your mind that this could likely become a common occurrence.

The face of the one you loved to be the first thing you saw when waking up, and the last thing before falling asleep.

You scooted closer, paused, and got even closer.

Finally you were where you belonged, at his side.

It was a string of tiny movements to get close enough to nest yourself against him without waking him. Minutes passed before you were comfortable and let your eyes fall shut.

When they opened again, time had passed and he was still sleeping peacefully.

Thirst had woken you from your slumber, you were parched for some water and none was available in the room.

Just as it had been a challenge to get closer to him, it was a challenge to get out of the bed without waking him.

With weary eyes you trippled out of the room and did your best to prevent the door from making a noise.

It was a small distance to get to your own room, once inside you filled a tankard of water and drank it in one go. After some thought, you decided to just take the jug of water and the tankard with you.

After tiptoeing through the hallway, you were back at his door that you had left open an inch.

With your back against it you opened it more and intended to do the same to close it.

In the darkness of the room it took you a blink too long to notice the shadow figure standing near.

The unforeseen presence startled you enough to spill nearly half the water in the jug over your nightgown.

When you had left he’d been vast asleep, how could you have known that he’d be up now?

“Shit.” You cursed crudely.

His eyes were better adjusted to darkness and saw the accident happen, one touch on your nightgown and he felt how soaked it was.

You pouted at the state you were in now “I thought you were still asleep.”

He sheepishly explained “I woke up and found you gone…” then he offered “There is a towel in there.”

What he gestured to was a small room just large enough for one person to clean themselves.

He lighted a candle and led you to the small space, then placed the candle holder on the tiny table were a bowl of water was and a towel.

Now in the light and near the small mirror, the mess the water had made became visible.

“Oh…” The drenched white of the fabric was exposing what it was meant to shield from sight.

The dim light of the candle offered some modesty.

Quickly you grabbed the towel and tried to dry the gown as best as you could.

With the distraction, you failed to notice the way his eyes were drifting over you.

You scolded yourself “I’m such a klutz.”

It was the absence if a witty remark that pulled your attention to him.

He was leaning against the door frame, eye fixed on a place where the fabric was undoubtedly betraying you.

Had he even heard you speak?

You squinted your eyes at him “I am starting to think you won’t offer to fetch me a dry gown.”

Well, in truth it had indeed not crossed his mind.

It looked like wanted to look apologetic but it was clearly feigned.

You dunked your hand in the bowl with water and proceeded to wave the countless drops in his direction “Go pray. You seem to need it.”

Lancelot did not let the water scare him away “I rather enjoy you like this. Wet and arrogant.”

The ambiguity of his words hit him right after and he visibly felt some regret over his choice of words.

You send him a knowing look, your brow arched “Wow.”

He could feel his nose start to get warmer.

Thank the darkness of the night for letting him keep some of his confidence.

You had expected him to take it back or apologize, but he did neither. That was new…

When you carried on drying the gown off, his eyes lifted from the floor again.

The gown was sticking to your skin on various places “I won’t be able to get this dry. It’s too soaked.”

What a delight to his eyes.

He hummed and stepped into the small space, again he touched the fabric and noted that the towel indeed would not be able to fix this “It is.”

To hear and see him so distracted, made you laugh quietly “You’re not much help right now.”

And he was well aware of it.

The linen towel was plucked from your hands and placed aside on the small table again by him.

With a firm but gentle hold on your arm, he turned you to face him.

His fingers were lacing themselves into the wet fabric over your stomach, his forehead came down to rest against yours “Don’t leave my room.”

The plea was carried in that warm timbre that had your heart vibrate in tune with it.

With the little clarity your brain still offered, you stammered “But my clothes…”

One hand brought you closer, the other caused you to shiver when he brushed it over your jaw and neck up and behind your ear.

His voice deepened as those blue orbs dropped to the curve of your mouth “Do not worry.”

Your eyes drifted between the heavens present in his eyes and the alluring lips he was blessed with.

Lancelot pulled you into him and caught your mouth with his, trapping your lips in the searing kiss.

He rained down on them and every drop nourished the planted seeds of affection that had waited for him, you let it drown out all else until all that flowed between you was the passion it bared.

His hand had wandered so low that it was almost on your rear.

He was used to taking charge, but this?

No.

It would not surprise him if he was told to remove his hand from where it had so brazenly journeyed to.

You paused only to lock eyes with him.

Feeling him brush a hand over your back like that had you purring playfully “Searching me for Fey signs?”

Even now, you would tease him, two could play this game.

Instantly both hands glided up past your waist until they reached your ribs “If I was, I would search here…”

Your breath caught when they followed the curve and felt along and between your shoulder blades.

You had to tilt your head to the side, he was close enough that it was almost an embrace.

It continued, far slower than he had ever done during this procedure.

He lifted your arm and felt along the back of it “And here.”

It was sending shivers down your spine.

Then the tip of his nose followed the curve of your neck up to your ear “I would capture your scent.”

His hand came up to the back of your neck, thumb drawing circles behind your ear “The ears are the easiest to spot signs near.”

Truly, such inspections had not been so slow and intimate, or had they?

It fell out off your scrambled thoughts “Is that what you did with the women at the abbey?”

Was that a pinch of jealousy he heard?

He would not deny it “I did this with all who needed to be inspected.”

But not with enthusiasm, unlike now.

And never this close and personal. Back then, he just wanted it to be over and done with as fast as possible.

You couldn’t resist asking everything that crossed your mind “You could feel it through clothes?”

Where were you going with this?

“Yes.”

“Even through mine?”

“Yes.”

Your coy smile was suggestive “Are you sure?”

When you saw the innocence in his eyes, you almost felt bad for teasing him like this.

Sometimes you needed to remind yourself that he was raised a monk.

You reeled yourself back in and ‘apologized’ by giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek “Forgive me, Lancelot. I wish I had a quarter of the self-restraint you have.”

That ‘self-restraint’ had gotten much weaker the second you walked into his room tonight.

His mind was still catching up “Did you just proposition me again?”

It made your cheeks burn to admit it, especially because it was asked so politely “Sorry.”

His hand left your neck and fidgeted with the sleeve of your nightgown a little.

You could just feel the atmosphere take a palpable shift “I will just go and fetch something dry to wear and return here afterwards.”

Slipping from his touch and out of the small space felt a little awkward.

But you would not have him think that you expected something else to happen other than sleep. Why did you have to tease him with this…

What if it had made him uncomfortable and he feared to say it?

Once you reached the door, the other candle that still stood on the dresser grew a bright green flame the second you reached for the doorknob.

You halted and stared at the candle in disbelief, that candle had not been lighted, the flame had grown from nothing.

“I have been practicing.” The Ash Man stated with pride.

In awe, you stared at the Fey Fire “I can tell.” through the wet sleeve, the mark showed it’s silver glow again “My mark…”

His eyes were drawn to the glow passing through the sleeve “Please, stay.”

Something in his voice sounded quite vulnerable and made you turn to face him fully.

The will to point out that you needed to go and fetch dry clothes left you upon seeing the look in his eyes.

There was something he was trying to say…

“Lancelot?” You quietly spoke.

The floorboards barely creaked under his calculated slow steps.

He took your hand and led you away from the door slowly, and when you did not protest he cupped your face and closed the distance.

Your noses were touching and you tilted your head pleadingly for his affection.

He resisted, barely.

It was a whispered prayer that caressed your cheek “I want to share this night together.” he left no room for misinterpretation “I want you.”

You leaned back at once, speechless by what it implied.

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