#and then everything related that happens is contained to this one chapter
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#just my take of course
#plausible deniability that Queequeg had other people do those things but who would he pick besides Ishmael
#i've also been terrified by this chapter for months and months since i thought Queequeg would actually be dying in it #Herman Melville pulled a fast one
I find it heartbreaking how Ishmael tries to distance himself from Queequeg dying: Queequeg calls someone to his deathbed to hold his hand and to express his final wishes to, he tells someone "to go to his bag and bring out his little god, Yojo," Ishmael says what "you" can see if you look at Queequeg instead of what he saw himself and dissolves himself among "every one" who is sad and "some" who are delighted when Queequeg rallies—until he's truly well and strong, and then Ishmael calls him "my Queequeg" again like he has in the past and like he did at the start of the chapter.
#ww ch110#i almost RAN to catch up on Whale Weekly when i saw the chapter title. i was like oH CRAP WHAT DID I MISS#and then everything related that happens is contained to this one chapter#('running to catch up' this time is just chapters 105-110 fortunately lol)#i was lowkey rushing to read everything so i appreciate this analysis. i like to think it's something i'd catch if i weren't rushing#and anyway i def didn't catch all this.#hwestil#whale weekly#queequeg#ishmael#herman melville
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so your crow strider au gave me inspiration for my own au, but i've built up the idea in my brain so much that now im scared to try to put it to paper (oops) did you ever deal with this while making crow strider? (and if you did, how you got over it would be much appreciated thanks fhdjks) also your art is cool :]
Hi, sure, i encountered a few blocks when writing CSAU and other projects. I think my method comes down to a couple rules
You need to know how the story ends from the start, so everything in the story leads to the end. Things can change about the contents of the story as you write it and you change your mind about the events that will transpire in it, but you need an end goal you can build your story towards. Most importantly, this is what allows you to add foreshadowing for said ending and structure the narrative in a clear direction. Otherwise, you might come up with a cool ending too late and regret some choices from past chapters that now don’t help this new ending you want
On that same note (and i’ll proceed to copy and paste from an old post) You need to have a Word document with a rough timeline of the events from start to finish. You need to know how it ends from the beginning and how they get there. It can be really, really vague, but it has to be there. It can go like
. They start the game, the trolls bother them.
.both games go to hell
.scratch
.trip, develop relationships
.new set of kids/teen drama
.old kids they get there
.to hell again
.John retcons everything
.new timeline
.they win
And that's homestuck simplified, Those are your Acts. With them, you will know where you're going and if you need to change something earlier. Everything will be constantly up to change of course, but you will be going from point A to point Z more easily.
From there, you go to every point in that list and create a Word document for all of them. I have them in different folders to have every act separated and in order.
A folder for each Doc for every Act, Numbered, and in each one make more lists like that one telling what happens, for example
WordDoc1 - ACT 1 "They start the game, the trolls bother them"=
.John needs to get his game
.introduce Rose
.introduce the trolls on pester chats
. John gets the game
.introduce Dave
.etc
And those are your chapters. Now you can know the extent of what you want to do and if it makes any sense.
I addition to that, every Folder can contain not only the Word document for the Act but also relevant texts and art that are connected to the Act, so evey folder is all about that specific act and any inspiration for it.
Another piece of advice I can give you is to hint at anything important. That's a rule of comedy; actually, the comedian usually closes the show with something related to the first things they said.
That works for everything, and makes people go, "Oh the thing! The meaningless thing they said earlier, it was a clue all along!"
Interconnect it like a web, and that web will stop the story from falling
Homestuck is so ridiculously interconnected that you lose track of the stuff and objects that repeat that have no way to be where they got to be, songs and people and events that are too similar to not be connected but nobody addresses, things like that make it feel like you're dealing with a universe and not just a line of events.
3. Yet another thing, it's something I'm still trying to assimilate, and is that less is more, sometimes things don't need to be said, specialy not bluntly, and an expression, a gesture, a flinch can summarize them. Backgrounds can be reduced, and ideas can be conveyed.
one example is, In homestuck, it's never said that Dave was raised with lack of food. He never sais it, but it's shown in how happy he was to find a warm bottle of juice in his closet, how there is only weapons on the kitchen and no sign of food, how he later sais he never learned what the purpose of a fridge was until he saw it on tv. If someone is lacking something, don't have them say, "i grew up without X thing" show what filled that space in the absence of X thing.
Instead of some character saying, "My dad was never there for christmas" have them say how they thrited for presents at the local goodwill, payed with their lawn mowing money and put the presents under the tree themselves for their siblings and mom.
4. Something that I always have in mind when writing the dialogs and sketching the scenes, is
"I have an idea; what's the easiest way for someone to get the idea, to get the feelings i want to transmit from the idea?" I made the art something I could handle drawing hundreds of times, simplified the coloring, the aspect symbols, the way I draw backgrounds, the way I write dialogs, etc.
That will save you time and work and could prevent you from getting stuck with a project too big to handle
5. This is the most important one: The first draft’s only purpose is to exist.
Writing is like playing darts sometimes; you only get closer to hitting the center by missing it and learning what not to do. That’s an actual rule on animation and a motto on the Disney office. “Get it wrong as quick as you can,” because when you learn what you’re doing wrong is when you start learnign what doing it right means.
If it helps, title your first draft “the dumb version,” because that’s what it is—the version to get the idea out of your head, and then you built over it.
On the same note, once you write "the dumb version" don’t correct it. Rewrite it. It’s annoying, I know, i know, but fixing and fixing a text only carries the mistakes from the first draft, and everything looks kind of disconnected, because it ends up being a Frankenstein text of all the versions of the story mixed together.
This also applies to art; that’s how I handle both writing and drawing; if it’s not working, hold onto the core idea, new page, restart.
Rewriting it puts it in perspective; it feels like a text of its own, with a clear intent in mind.
I think that’s all I have. Making a story is mostly about managing your strengths and weaknesses, organizing and not being scared of it not being perfect.
Hope this helps.
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holy fool masterlist
When your Guardian Angel gives you a second chance at life, you vow to save every human that God will put into your care. But what happens when you run into one of the eight Kings of Hell one night after your human falls asleep? What will you do when you’re a Guardian Angel with the eight Kings of Hell in love with them?
MDNI
Genre : Horror, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Slow Burn
Pairing : Demon!Ateez x Born-Again-Angel!Reader
Warnings : Suicide, Death, Violence, Alcoholism, Abusive Father, Abandonment, Heavy Swearing, Torture, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Religious Themes, Religious Trauma, Sexual Trauma, Overall just very heavy themes
A/N : This story will contain SEVERAL triggering themes and topics!!!! Please use caution when you’re reading. There will be individual warnings with each chapter so please read with discretion.
Also huge thank you to @msstrawberri for reading everything and helping me brainstorm ☹️
# holy fool thoughts for everything holy fool related with the exception of chapters being posted !
Start — 06/22/24
prologue
chapter one chapter two chapter three
#seonghwa smut#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa angst#hongjoong smut#hongjoong fluff#hongjoong angst#yunho smut#yunho fluff#yunho angst#yeosang fluff#yeosang smut#yeosang angst#san smut#san angst#san fluff#mingi fluff#mingi smut#mingi angst#wooyoung smut#wooyoung angst#wooyoung fluff#jongho fluff#jongho angst#jongho smut#ot8!ateez#ateez hurt/comfort#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez fanfic
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furthest from truth
Lando Norris fic - requested
My inbox for requests
a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼
Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.
It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.
‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.
‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’
She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.
You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.
After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?
Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.
The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.
‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.
‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.
‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.
‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.
Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.
‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.
‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.
‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.
You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.
‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’
You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.
‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.
‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’
Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.
‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.
Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.
‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.
You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.
‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.
You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.
People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.
‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.
‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.
‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.
‘’But the image McLa-..’’
‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.
‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.
landonorris added to his story
landonorris & yourusername
liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others
I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡
view all 39,264 comments
user1 I feel ashamed
user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.
user2 You are so so so cute together!
‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#f1 imagines#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fan#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#mclaren formula 1#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#lando x you#lando norris mclaren#lando imagine#lando x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris imagines#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n
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Superbat Fake Dating + Identity Porn Rec List
Thanks to @jourquet for asking for this!! I hope you find something here to read!! (And paging @steine-druff as promised!)
These are in no particular order, but generally organised by trope. I tend to read longfic as a general rule, so these recs will reflect that :) the titles contain links to each fic.
Fake Dating
1. A Common Misconception by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 91,114 words; 21 chapters; complete
Summary:
When Bruce Wayne comes out, he accidentally becomes the poster child of bisexuality and realizes his lifestyle of sleeping around needs to come to an end. Clark, being the supportive friend that he is, volunteers to pretend to date him for a year.
You know the rest.
This fic has everything that one could want in fake dating: idiots in love, mutual pining, one bed, fake vacations, miscommunication. It also really captures the superbat dynamic of trusting and yes and-ing each other, even when they probably didn't need to be!
(And if you like this fic, any of rotasha's other works are just as good! I've got a few more of them in this list too)
2. over this threshold by orphean; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 59,283 words; 7 chapters; complete
Summary:
'I don't understand how tax evasion relates to you going on a date with, do I need to remind you, Bruce Wayne.'
Clark bit his tongue.
'We're going to get married. It's a tax break, not tax evasion.'
'Are you kidding me.' Lois stared. 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.'
———
Bruce asks Clark to marry him for tax reasons. Clark, against his better judgment, agrees.
Exactly what it says on the tin. Some highlights include Bruce buying Clark ridiculously expensive suits, Clark taking forever to tell his mom what's going on, and of course the wedding itself which was just delightful, with speeches from Lois, Alfred, and Dick that had me crying.
3. A Rich Man's Game by malicegreres; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 63,942 words; 13 chapters; complete
Summary:
The editorial staff of the Daily Planet, currently owned by Bruce Wayne, is trying to organize a labor union. Clark can't explain to his coworkers why he can't participate without jeopardizing the campaign—or tell Batman why he's been so cagey around him lately. When Bruce finds out what's been going on, Clark recruits him to resolve his conflict of interest in the only way Clark can think of: by pretending to date him.
This fic is truly glorius. Of all the ways Clark could have solved this problem, he chose the most convoluted. And surprise surprise, it works!
4. mission parameters by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 33,394 words; 6 chapters; complete
Summary:
"Bruce." Clark turns towards him, leaning back against a bank of consoles. "We're not actually going undercover. We don't need an elaborate backstory– if anything, it'll be harder to keep straight. It doesn't have to be complicated." He spreads his hands. "Here's a story: we're members of the same elite fighting force. After years of saving each other's lives in the field, we fell in love. That's it."
Bruce swallows past the almost-truth of it. In Clark's warm smooth radio voice, it sounds plausible. It sounds like something that could happen.
—
Bruce and Clark pretend to be married for diplomatic reasons. When they return to Earth, things are a little different.
Of all the things that normally Bruce says, Clark is the one to insist on a simple coverstory. And of course, from such simple things spirals out a whole entire adventure that doesn't stop just because the mission is over! This fic features a domesticity that neither of them knew they needed until they had it
5. tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter [@susiecarter on tumblr]; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 33,007 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.
*slapping this fic like that one meme with the car* this fic can fit so much miscommunication into it, it's truly delightful to read!! Also, yet another fic where Clark fails to mention what's going on to his mother. And of course the constant worrying about each other without actually expressing it, which is truly such a golden trope when it comes to these two!
I'm adding a cut here because this is already very long and we are still only just starting, so click the read more to see the rest ^.^
6. there ain't no star that shines by amosangius [@amosanguis on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 11,713 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
“I'm not the same person I was back in high school,” Clark says, “and I doubt they all are, either. What would be the point?”
“Oh, Clark,” Bruce is suddenly holding Clark's face with both of his hands, “the point is that I'm going to land us in a helicopter somewhere for all your classmates to see.”
Clark sighs and closes his eyes.
“Say 'yes', Clark,” Bruce orders.
Clark doesn't open his eyes, just says, “Yes, Clark.”
If you thought Bruce buying Clark expensive suits just for their fake dates was excessive, you ain't seen nothing yet!! This fic also features casual bed sharing (and so many references to casual intimacy oh my goodness it's lovely), Bruce Wayne being Rich As Fuck, and Bruce casually being overprotective of Clark in social situations
7. my heart is an open wound by yukla [@yuebings on tumblr]; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 13,367 words; 1 chapter; complete
“—I’ll see you kneel again,” Luthor is hissing, eyes hungry, and Clark is swaying back in discomfort—and as Lois checks their surroundings again, she notices that Wayne is still standing across the room, staring uselessly, as though he believes the sheer force of his murderous gaze would be enough to laser-blast Luthor into oblivion.
Jesus Christ, Lois thinks. I have to do everything around here.
5 times a Daily Planet employee protects Clark Kent, and 1 time Clark Kent protects the Daily Planet.
Or: Clark's coworkers watch as he fake-dates his crush with limited success.
It is probably obvious by now that miscommunication and Bruce's emotions getting in the way of everything are two of my favourite things to read. All of Clark's coworkers are the best, and once again Clark is a self-sacrificing idiot (affectionate)
8. flash in the pan by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 15,951 words; 3 chapters; complete
Summary:
Here’s the thing. Clark does understand. Superman and Batman are fucking. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are not. Clark can handle this. He keeps parts of his life separate all the time.
It’s possible, Clark thinks, as he glares at a lurid tabloid cover of Bruce’s latest scandalous yacht party in the grocery store checkout aisle, that he can’t handle this.
—
At the Wayne Foundation's annual holiday party, things come to a head.
Okay there is so much I want to say about this fic and yet there are no words that could possibly express just how incredible it is. Bruce coming up with the worst case scenario for literally everything? Check. Clark agreeing to fake date even though he's majorly head over heels and this will likely end in flames? Check. Ma Kent giving the best relationship advice ever? Check. Dick yelling at Bruce when he tries to self sabotage again? Check. Truly one of the best fucking-but-still-pining fics I've ever read!
9. Operation Sponsalia by Brenda [@brendaonao3 on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 13,610 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
"When did you first realize you were in love with me?"
Bruce coughs up his wine.
"I mean, in this...whatever this is," Clark clarifies, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I don't think you're really — I mean, I know this isn't —"
"It's alright." Bruce's voice is raspy, but steady. "I know what you mean."
Clark's glad one of them does.
Or: Bruce and Clark have to fake an engagement for ~reasons — featuring a metric ton of very romantic dates, enough floral arrangements to start a flower shop, SO MANY puns, and Clark finally getting to know the real Bruce. :D
Clark doesn't find out that Bruce said to the press that they had been dating long enough to be teasing enagagements until after it's already been said. Was there a better way to explain why Bruce just happened to help save the Kent family farm? Absolutely. And yet they follow through on it anyway, and I love it for them
10. Sham-pagne by ChrisLeon; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 8,248 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Superman is spotted visiting Wayne Manor, prompting speculation about how exactly he knows Bruce Wayne. To protect their secret identities, they need a plausible explanation and it seems easy enough to go along with the tabloid theory that they’re sleeping together. All they have to do is pretend to be in a relationship until the speculation dies down and then they can break up move on.
Or: Superman fake-dates Bruce Wayne, we all know how this ends.
This one was fascinating to me because instead of Clark and Bruce dating, it's Superman and Bruce dating, and let me just say I'm so incredibly hinged about it!! I think there is so much potential in that particular version of their dynamic, and this fic was such a beautiful exploration of it!
11. Speaking in Code by Mithen; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 7,459 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Clark and Bruce must go undercover at a newlywed resort to try and stop an assassination attempt. Hijinks, UST, and reluctant making out ensue.
First of all, Mithen is a superbat master. Pick any fic of theirs and it will be delightful. Second of all, I could write an entire essay about how much I adore the way they go from irritable about this mission to incredibly enthuasiastic over the course of their two days at the resort, but then we'd be here all day so: if you like banter, one bed, and a case fic this is a brilliant read
12. Kind Truths by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated G; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 6,478 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Bruce needs help with an undercover mission. Clark can never say no to him even though he probably should before he does something stupid. Like tell Bruce he's in love with him.
--
“Why me?” Clark can’t help but ask. He tries his very best to keep his voice level, to not sound as desperate as he feels.
“Because I need someone there to watch my back,” Bruce says, a little exasperated. He really shouldn’t have to explain this to Clark of all people, it’s not like they haven’t been on missions together before.
“I get that, but what about Diana? Shayera?” Anyone who doesn’t have a big fat crush on Bruce would do.
Is it obvious I have a thing for Clark agreeing to fake dating despite his big crush on Bruce? This fic is glorious, and features delights such as Bruce metaphorically putting his foot in his mouth, Clark wanting nothing more than to defend Bruce's honor, and one of the most beautiful confession scenes I've ever had the pleasure of reading
13. where i come from by soetry [@soetrys on tumblr]; E; no archive warnings apply; 52,494 words; 11 chapters; complete
Summary:
Bruce doesn’t have a soulmark, and Clark doesn’t have a soulmark, on an Earth where everyone has a soulmark. Somewhere in there is a simple solution. Somewhere to that solution is an overcomplicated journey. Surely two of the world’s leading superheroes will not take the overcomplicated route?
Surely not?
This one is a little bit of both. The identity porn in this was really well done - Dick is a massive Superman fan, Bruce is unimpressed with both Superman and Clark Kent, and it all goes downhill from there (affectionate). Highlights also include Bruce using a dubiously legal site to crossreference soulmarks, him getting the Superman crest tattooed on his wrist using Kyrptonian tech, and Clark being a self-sacrificing idiot. This is also one of the best soulmate AUs I've ever read!!
Identity Porn
1. Get Over It by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 32,378 words; 3 chapters; complete
Summary:
Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...
Of all the identity porn I've read, this is one of the best! Bruce dating Clark to get over Superman is one of the best things ever and this fic really does a good job of their dynamic!
2. Lost Time Without You by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 68,792 words; 21 chapters; complete
Summary:
In a universe where your soulmate’s injuries show up on your skin, Bruce is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate, and Clark is seriously concerned for his soulmate’s well-being.
This was my introduction to soulmate!AUs and oh my goodness it was spectacular! The build up to the reveal of their identities was brilliantly done, and the chance encounters that pepper through the lead up to that point were captivating. This fic also features Bruce being a good parent and I really love that for him
3. the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated T; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 95,533 words; 10 chapters; complete
Summary:
Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?
--
“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think there’s been a mistake.”
“Bruce, right?” the guy says, albeit less confidently this time. He looks slightly concerned and if Bruce is not mistaken… a tad embarrassed. “Bruce Wayne? You look just like your pictures.”
“My pictures?” Something finally clicks in Bruce’s mind, and he takes a small step back and plasters a smile on his face as to not rouse suspicion. Stalker. “Ah, of course, I’m sorry but I’m late for an appointment.”
This fic features the batkids catfishing Clark on Bruce's behalf, Bruce being a good parent, and the utter chaos of miscommunication that can only come from these two being idiots! It was a delightful read, and of course the batfam in action is always a joy!
4. ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 62,737 words; 12/13 chapters; incomplete
Summary:
"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better.
Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.
Oh my goodness okay. Where to start with this fic. First of all, Clark writing Batman/Bruce Wayne fanfiction is such a brilliant concept. Then add to that the fact that Clark is secretly crushing on Batman at the same time, and the entire comedy of a trainwreck is a delight to witness!
5. I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 12,920 words; 3 chapters; complete
It was like living in the Twilight Zone. Everyone else believed fervently in Bruce Wayne’s reputation. He was a flirty, stupid, and entitled drunk whose only redeeming quality was his bleeding heart. And yet every time Clark spoke with Wayne, the man was clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive.
And no one believed Clark. Not Lois, not his parents, not even Batman.
Clark insisting upon defending Bruce to everyone much to everyone's dismay is one of my favourite superbat tropes ever, and this fic really does it well! And of course, this fic also features Batman shit talking Bruce, which is always a joy to see!
6. Don't Quote Me by metropolisjournal [@metropolisjournal on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 77,131 words; 20/21 chapters; incomplete
Summary:
Bruce Wayne has weathered scandal before, and Wayne Enterprises can handle another publicity crisis. What Bruce can’t handle is one crashing up against his plans to infiltrate Lex’s estate. Set during Batman v. Superman.
This was the fix-it for Batman vs Superman that I didn't know I needed until I read it. The identity reveal was so incredibly well written, and the whole fic was stupendous from the very first chapter!
And that's all for now! I hope you find something in here to read, may you enjoy!!
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Best Unremembered
Love Bites, Chapter 1 // Love Bites {Masterlist}
Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader
Summary: Waking up with a spotty memory and the only person you do remember is jarring enough—but it only gets worse when the people who remember you are monsters and strangers.
Word Count: 3,095 words
Warnings: exposition chapter, vampire spawn, Astarion lies, amnesia for the reader
Note: This is the first chapter of a nine chapter fic! It will be updated weekly. Check the posting schedule on my {Updates Page} and enjoy the fic! Please be warned it does contain some heavy themes related to Astarion's trauma.
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Rough hands grabbed you from the comforting darkness surrounding you, ripping you violently from deep sleep. As your eyes fluttered open, you became aware of a constant, throbbing ache throughout your body. You were quite certain, without apparent reason, that your rest had not been all that restful.
He was nothing but a shadowed figure above you, his white hair a glowing halo around his head, outlined by the sun, as he shook you awake. He hovered above you and you couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was afraid—he gripped your shoulders with a tightness that suggested he was afraid you’d disintegrate if he let you go. In fact, the fear radiated so strongly from him you were certain you could smell it.
Your name. He was saying it, calling to you, begging you to wake up. The moment he realized your eyes had cracked open, he relaxed, his head dropping to your chest and a sob of relief escaping him. Without thinking about it, you put your hand in his hair; the move felt natural and practiced, like you’d been doing it all your life.
But who the hell was this man and why was he crying on your chest?
“What—” You coughed; your lungs felt heavy and full of…something. Your voice was rough as you asked, “What happened?” The words had barely gotten out when you started to wheeze. Suddenly very certain you were going to throw up, you sat up quickly, throwing him off and rolling onto your side. At first you dry-heaved, aware of his hand on your back.
“Let it out,” he told you, patting your back. “Trust me, you’ll feel better once you do.”
His words were magic. Perhaps it was simply how familiar he suddenly was or how silky smooth that voice was, but your body listened to him. You hacked up everything: slime and black dirt and congealed blood. He held you as you heaved. When you finally stopped coughing, you leaned back into his chest.
“Astarion,” you breathed, his name and his person once again firmly in your mind. You knew him, you trusted him, and by gods, you loved him.
“I’m right here,” he soothed. “Oh, darling.” He leaned his head into your shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“I’m not sure,” you panted. “Gods, what happened to me? Where the hells are we?”
You looked around, taking in the dirt path the two of you were sitting on, tall plants and trees casting some shadows across the path. You sat in the blaring sun, both of you dusty. And you recognized absolutely none of it.
“I wish I knew,” Astarion said. “We were on that ship—”
You practically choked. You turned in his lap to stare at him. “A ship?”
Astarion brushed your hair out of your face, nodding as he did, and you got your first good look at him. His silver hair was covered in a fine layer of dust and he squinted his crimson eyes to stare at you. He was paler than the Astarion you remembered, the skin around his eyes darker than they were on the face that had smiled at you in your childhood.
Your eyes dipped to his neck out of wary instinct. You saw the twin puncture wounds and your memory seemed to play catch-up. Your Astarion, your elf—now a vampire. You reached out one hand to touch his scars and he flinched. Unfazed, you brought your hand to your own neck and found with your fingers the same marks on your neck.
“You don’t remember very much, do you?” he said.
“I… I don’t know.” Your chest seemed very tight. “Astarion, I don’t know what I don’t remember, everything’s all…all jumbled!”
Astarion seemed to catch on to your panicking before even you did. “Hey, hey, hey. Darling, look at me. It’s alright. We’ll figure it out together. What’s the last thing you remember?”
You wracked your brain. “Well…I remember drinking together last night. I remember you taking me to bed. And then…nothing. Just waking up right here, right now.”
He looked disappointed. “Is that all you remember of me?”
“What? Oh, no! That’s just the last thing I remember. We…we grew up together, didn’t we? We’ve been together since we were little.”
Relief crossed his face. It was a strange sight; some of it seemed genuine, and some of it seemed very forced. You chalked it up to your spotty memory as he hugged you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him as one of his arms curled around your waist, melting into his hold. Despite the building panic in your chest over the gaps in your memory, you felt yourself relax the longer he held you.
“Oh, thank gods,” he breathed. “I’d hate to have to start from scratch again. It would be a little bit difficult to catch up on two hundred some-odd years, eh?”
You cuddled into him. “Astarion?”
“Yes, dear?”
“How are we in the sun?”
He froze. After a moment, he pulled away from you and cupped your face. “Darling?”
You touched the marks on your neck again. “We’re vampires, aren’t we?” He nodded, biting his lip a bit guiltily; the sight of his fangs led you to run your tongue across your own, confirming your suspicion. “So how the hell are we in the sun? How is this possible?”
He hesitated, a frown forming on his beautiful face. “Well, I—I don’t know, but I suppose it has something to do with what happened on the ship.”
You sighed. “I don’t remember a ship, Astarion, what the hells are you talking about?”
Astarion pulled you to your feet. “We should find you some water—it might help you remember what happened—”
You stopped, not letting him drag you down the dirt path. “Astarion, please!” He froze, glancing back at you. It took only a few seconds before your lower lip started to wobble and for tears to start to spill over. He immediately pulled you into his arms. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember being turned into a vampire, I don’t remember what we’ve been doing for two hundred fucking years, my body aches and I have no clue why, and I certainly don’t remember a ship, so please, for the love of every god I couldn’t possibly name, tell me what happened last night and tell me why I don’t remember anything.”
He kissed the crown of your head, pulling you in and keeping you close to his chest. “Oh, darling. We went out last night. We were drinking. We were…” He huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “We were very drunk, love. I suppose that’s why we…went out again last night. After we…made love. Gods, if we had just stayed in…”
You looked up and searched his face; regret had overwhelmed his features and his eyes had filled with tears. “Asty?” The nickname came naturally and seemed to bring him out of his memories and back to you.
“They stole us from the street,” he said thickly. “We’d gone out for a…a walk. Like we always do, in the last few hours of night. And then those—those Mind Flayers took us and put parasites in our eyes. I…I don’t know what they do, but it can’t be good.”
“Can’t it?” you asked. “We can walk in the sun again. Isn’t that good?”
“Well, yes, but we know nothing else about it,” he said, biting his lip. “I don’t trust it.”
Some part of you wanted to argue, but you could sense his agitation and dropped it. “So what happened to the ship? How’d we get to the dirt?”
“It crashed,” he said simply. “Someone—or something—must have found a way to force us to crash land. We were thrown a ways away, and then I dragged you out of the rubble to try and wake you.” Astarion cupped your face in his hands and pressed your foreheads together. “Gods, I was so scared I was going to lose you.”
You held his wrists and kissed the tips of his fingers. “There are others, then? Other people from the ship?”
“If any of them survived, yes.”
“We should find them,” you said firmly. “Maybe they can help us figure out if these…parasites, or whatever they are, are good or bad.”
“You want to find other people? As vampires walking around in the full light of day?”
You considered his fear for a moment, then tugged his collar up to hide the punctures better. You did the same for yourself. “If we’re careful, no one will suspect us. If we don’t tell them we’re vampires, how will they know? We’re out and about in the sun. Perhaps we’re just really, really pale elves.” You rubbed your neck cautiously. The wound, though closed, was tender. “I can’t believe I don’t remember being turned. That’s the sort of thing someone would remember, right?”
Astarion shrugged. “Those Mind Flayers may have messed with your mind. They certainly poked around in my head too much for my liking.”
You rubbed your arms and leaned into his chest again. He hummed softly and wrapped you in a cool embrace. “Even if I don’t remember much, I’m glad you’re here with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He kissed your cheek. “I’m glad—” He frowned. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Shouting.”
The two of you listened, bodies pressed close together, until the sound came again: a man’s voice, shouting for help. You spared a quick glance at Astarion and chose to ignore the apprehension on his face before dragging him in the direction of the shouting.
Just over the crest of a steep hill, you found yourself staring straight into a hole in the stone mountainside, glowing and pulsing with a deep purple magic—and a hand sticking out of it.
“Hello? Hello! A little help here!”
You and Astarion exchanged a glance. He shrugged. You rolled your eyes and took the man’s hand. You grit your teeth as you tugged. It was only when you slid toward the portal that Astarion grabbed on, too, and yanked you back—and the man out with you.
He dusted off his deep purple robes and stood up straight, smiling at you and Astarion. His smile wavered when he realized the two of you were little more than distressed vagabonds. But he brought it back up to his face and waved. “Hello! I’m Gale of Waterdeep. Who might you be?”
You blinked at him, then gave your name and stated that you were a barkeep in Baldur’s Gate, pleased that you had remembered even something about yourself, and introduced Astarion as your partner and husband. You noted how pleased he looked and wondered if you were exaggerating the truth a little bit—after all, Astarion claimed you had spent over two hundred years together, but you didn’t remember a wedding.
“Pleased to meet you!” Gale said, cheery. “Now how did you two come to be, well, here?”
You glanced at Astarion. “I, um, don’t remember much, but it’s got something to do with Mind Flayers and parasites.”
~❊~
In all your adventuring, with all your gaps in your memory, you hadn’t felt such an innate fear until the moment you stepped into the Szarr Palace. The feeling worsened as you followed Astarion deeper into its walls, feeling very certain you’d done this before, despite Astarion’s promise that he had kept you as far away from your vampiric master as he could, taking the brunt of Cazador’s rage. Such was why your back did not bear the same scars as your lover’s, scars you had painstakingly translated and attempted to soothe with balms and creams.
As for Astarion, he was faring no better. In fact, he was much worse than you, his fingers trembling viciously and his eyes darting from shadow to shadow as if he expected Cazador himself to leap out of them. For all you knew, perhaps he would.
The sickness in your stomach reached its peak as soon as you saw the cages. They bore other spawn and you knew that you and your lover had once been behind those bars, hard as it was to picture. Seeing the filth and hatred and despair that hung like a cloud over the spawn, accompanied by the thick smell of decay and rot, you were suddenly glad the Mind Flayers had decided to relieve you of much of your memory. You knew they had not been so kind to your lover; Astarion woke often from nightmares of this place and everything Cazador had done to him—putrid blood, physical torture, claustrophobic stone walls. The very same thing Astarion had protected you from.
“Astarion, what is this?” you whispered, moving closer to his side.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Cazador hid this from me. And the others. I never saw this while I was his…”
“He didn’t do this to us, then?”
Astarion shook his head. “No. They…must be part of his ritual. But how did they get here?”
As soon as the spawn saw you and your little group, the shrieking started, so at odds with their blank, hollow faces. In amongst the screams of fear, of anticipation, of sick and twisted delight, you heard your own name and Astarion’s passed around. Spawn pressed themselves against the bars to get a closer look. One in particular, clad in a destroyed red frock, his dirty face half-hidden by matted, dirty grey hair, seemed to recognize Astarion. He pushed to the front and you caught sight of a rune carved into him—matching some of the ones on Astarion’s back.
“You. I know you.”
You glanced at Astarion. He was staring at the spawn with a mixture of disgust and confusion.
“You’re the one from the tavern. You smiled and joked and…got me drunk.”
Your stomach twisted. You looked between the two of them; Astarion’s confusion was melting away into horror, and the spawn stared at him with such bitter hatred that you knew he wasn’t wrong. He knew Astarion.
“You— No. You’re dead,” Astarion insisted. Guilt crossed his face. A weight like lead sunk from your chest to your stomach. Astarion had talked, in fits and starts, about what Cazador had made him do, explaining why you remembered so few nights spent with him. Was it possible this spawn was one of his many conquests? One of the victims Cazador had forced him to bring back?
Had Cazador really kept them alive for this long?
“You called me so many sweet things,” the spawn continued, his voice broken. “My name sounded like a lyric on your tongue.”
Astarion squeezed his eyes shut. “Sebastian.” Gods above, it really was beautiful to hear him say it. And you, better than anyone, knew just how sweet Astarion could be.
“You remember me,” the spawn—Sebastian—whispered, amazed.
“You were handsome,” Astarion remembered. “Shy. You’d never been kissed.”
Sebastian was almost nodding. “You taught me how.” Your heart shattered in your chest. “And then you destroyed me.” The spawn screamed, lunging, his hand reaching through the bars to grab at Astarion. But he was just out of reach. In his despair, Sebastian fell to his knees.
“It can’t be,” Astarion whispered, his face falling. “He kept them. He kept them all. My conquests. He told us he was feeding on them, not that he was turning them!” His eyes scanned the locked up spawn. “I know so many of these faces. I don’t… Gods.”
“How long?” Sebastian demanded.
“What?” Astarion asked, startled.
“How long have I been down here?” Sebastian asked, getting back to his feet.
Astarion looked at his feet, then back up at him. “One hundred and seventy years,” he said, his voice heavy. You released a slow breath, feeling the weight of every one of those years harshly, even if you remembered very little of them. “You were one of my first.”
“My family,” Sebastian whimpered. “My friends… They’re gone. You took them from me. You took everything from me!”
“We can help them, can’t we?” you asked, looking at Astarion. His lower lip trembled. “Can’t we?”
“Help? Help? There’s no helping us while that monster lives,” Sebastian spat.
“That’s why we’re here—to destroy Cazador,” Astarion explained.
“You can’t. It’s not possible.” Sebastian’s eyes landed on you. “You tried it once. And look what came of it.”
Your skin crawled. “What? Astarion, what does he mean?”
Astarion wouldn’t meet your eyes.
Sebastian barked out a terrible laugh, roughened by years of intermittent screams and silence. “He hasn’t told you? Of course not. And you don’t remember. Most of us don’t. It’s like he breaks us, ruins us and our minds when he turns us, feeds on us.”
“Astarion!” Your voice was rising with alarm. “What the hells is he talking about?”
“We thought you might be the answer,” Sebastian whispered, his glowing red eyes fixed firmly on you now. “You were so strong. So brave. You faced him with a smile, even though you were crying. None of us were like that. We all screamed as we went to our graves. So we…hoped. It was a mistake to hope that you could change things.”
You took a step back, swallowing harshly. You were trembling. “Sebastian, please… We’ll free you from this nightmare. We just need to know where Cazador is so we can kill him.”
“Kill him?” he questioned, almost scoffing. “It’s not possible. You of all people should know that. You tried to run. And Cazador took you anyway. Because of him.”
His last growl was directed at Astarion.
Your heart dropped to your feet. Every gnawing feeling you’d ever had that Astarion wasn’t being completely honest with you rushed back, hitting you so heavily it was hard to believe you’d ever ignored your doubts. You kept your eyes glued to Sebastian, not sure you wanted to see your lover’s face. “Astarion. What is he talking about?”
Please. You had no idea who you were praying to, but you knew you were. Please, let me be wrong. Let Sebastian be wrong.
“Why do they know me, Astarion?” you asked. “Why do they remember me, when I don’t remember them?”
At last, you looked at him. His eyes were fixed on you, shining with tears, his guilt even more obvious than it had ever been. It felt as if your body was collapsing in on itself. A steady ringing built in your ears as he whispered your name, the first of his tears falling, and it was lost in Sebastian’s terrible, terrible laugh.
☞ ❊ ☜
[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]
Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel@cheeslyy@ofmyth-andmagicart@neetheslayer@whispering-depths@freesidexjunkie@lightsinmycity@the0ldmann@gobbodoggo@oooof-ifellforyou@beeblisss@fangboner@aquaarietes@fiercest-eigengrau-skies@niqhtfell@call-me-nyxx@lueji-m@ceres-xiv@tricksy-trinity@graynstairs@rosa-rubus@ynisthatyou@thegoodwitchs-blog@catching-fire-in-the-wind
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#baldurs gate 3#astarion x reader#spawn astarion#tav x astarion#astarion x you#astarion smut#astarion fluff#astarion angst#astarion romance#astarion fanfiction#astarion x female tav#love bites#chapter 1#thecasebookoffanfiction#spawn reader#vampire spawn
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He’s a Little Confused but He's Got the Holiday Spirit
Hello! As the title implies, it's time for this to become a fic, for those that don't know, I wrote a prompt response that's basically a christmas au of confused spirit (curtosey of @divinit3a) and it was so good that I decided to make a full fic for it. this post contains the basic info of the fic, some lovely designs brought to life by Pom and will include links to each chapter as it posts ^_^
There's also a little poll at the end to vote on the title if you'd like to participate~
The Plot:
You're a blacksmith/animatronic technican in a small, mountain village, known far and wide across the kingdom for it's holiday decorations and delight. So much so that the royal family themselves visit yearly to partake in the festivities.
However, due to some recent threats and strange has happenings, there's much more security this year, and among that security is two royal guards who seem keenly interested in keeping you from investigating too far into the matter. And you, they're also interested in you.
The Characters:
Y/N - You! With the same personality, motivations, and goals as Y/N from Confused Spirit, and with a similar job as well. You run a shop in town with a small team of smithies, tinkerers, and inventors at your side. (I don't have a design currently but imagine a the most androgynous blacksmith/medival peasent outfit ever <33)
Sun & Moon - The two guards that have been meddling in your affairs. Though, given they've been a surprising help with your siblings, you can't say much. Also with the same personalities, and characteristics as Confused Spirit. However, they're motivations and goals are different and do not reflect their CS counterparts. Meaning, anything discovered about these two does not apply to or justify any actions taken by them in CS. Designs below are by Pom who brought my vision to life <3333
The Shop Crew - the parts & infastructure team from CS! with an adjustment here or there :)
Melissa & Gabriel - Your siblings. Still adorable. And still a menace.
All others - You'll just have to see :) There is some overlap from CS, such as Abby as some already know, among many more
Where to read:
I'll be posting these to tumblr & ao3! Tumblr first/only (until I can think up a title) but then I'll also have it on ao3 for better reading bc these will be long chapters.
Speaking of, there will be seven chapters total, including the one I've already posted!
Timeline:
Honestly want to tell y'all i'll be sharing a chapter every day or so, but after the disaster that was me last week with feeling unwell and getting behind, I'll just say, she'll be posted completely hopefully before my break is over 😅
Title (and tagging):
While I admit it WOULD be funny to just name it Holiday Spirit, I'm gonna let y'all decide for sure. I'll leave the poll up for a week since I'm not in a rush to post to ao3 (and I unfortunately doubt I'll have it done in a week lmao) everything related to it though will be tagged with #HS! au and #Holiday spirit au as the au is called Holiday Spirit, this is just for fun pretty much
Chapter 1:
Chapter 2:
https://www.tumblr.com/midnight-mourning/771893744939270144/2-animatronics-dancing-oh-and-you-youre-there?source=share (this is an inline link bc it KEEPS SHOWING SPOILERS)
EDIT: messed up the poll, so sorry >_< if you already voted and it said 1 day pls vote again shkjdf
Tag list for the usuals (if you would like added, see this post for more info):
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8
@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles
@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva
@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml
#Merry christmas!#and happy holidays!#hope everyone has a great day if they celebrate ^_^#can't wait to share this with y'all#the plot is mwuah#the scenes i have planned?#mwuah#im very excited for the silly holiday fic#and i hope you all will enjoy it when it posts lol#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf moon#fnaf sun#sundrop#moondrop#dca fic#HS! au#holiday spirit au#confused spirit#x reader
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strawberry chocolate parfait \ nanami kento x reader (ch.1)
word count: 1.1k tags: slight slow burn, pining, romance, fluff, added as i go! setting: you are a worker at a bakery that nanami kento frequents ♡ authors note: hello ^_^ i hope you are doing wonderful! this is my first time writing for nanami. pls enjoy! chapter: 1/? <next>
Chapter 1 - Vanilla Cake
‘Does this guy need help….?’
‘He’s staring real hard at the bread…. Omg- is it ugly? Aw hell- I made that this morning…’
Your thoughts were cut off by the towering figure of a man, with two loaves of baguette in one hand and one container of cake, that happened to be your favorites, in the other. You smile up at him, “Will this be everything?” He gives a stiff nod, locking his eyes with yours, then you giggled; “Then.. I guess I'll bag-uette up for you..”
No? No reaction..Damn, tough crowd..
He thanks you and you bid him farewell and to come back soon. You could’ve sworn he almost smiled… maybe that was a look of irritation..?
After he leaves eyesight, You make haste by sitting down behind the counter, face flushed with embarrassment and agony. It made you cringe. Why would you say that? Your coworker giggled at you, making sure to add salt to the wound, “You tried.. That’s all it matters.” she gives you a head pat and continues, “He’s a regular here. He’s probably gonna come back in another couple of hours on his way home or something.”
“Then how come I’ve not seen him before?”
“Dunno.. He’s been away for a couple months now.”
“What’s his name?”
“You should ask when he comes back.”
“Isn’t that weird?”
“Oh but asking some other random person, who doesn’t know him at all, by the way, isn’t weird?”
She has a point.
You looked down at your phone and idly texted your friend Nobara about your day and fashion related topics.
You met when Nobara came down to the bakery to get some pastries for her boyfriend. You hit it off right away due to shared interests, albeit you being 7 years older. Nobara enjoyed having an older sister with an affinity for style, love for shopping, and interest in all the cool girl stuff that Maki wouldn’t normally talk to her about.
Right now you two are discussing weekend plans. Nobara and her boyfriend Yuji, along with Megumi, and their teacher Gojo were going to a karaoke room cause it had been a while since Gojo had gone out with his students. He was stuck on oversea assignments for the past couple of weeks and he dearly misses them, or so he says. As always, you had been invited and of course you said yes!
You are very fond of the kids and Gojo. The 3 of them reminded you of your siblings back home, and well- Gojo is Gojo. Plus, if you had declined, Gojo would pester you non-stop.
-
After a mini rush, you sit down, tired, ready to bite down into your sandwich, when on queue, the door swings open, revealing the tall blonde man, taking his glasses off as his eyes pierce you again. You wave at him and he just nods. You get a bag ready as the man collects another slice of the same cake he had bought earlier. He also got another dessert, this time, a small vanilla custard tart w/ fruits on top, made by yours truly. He comes up to the counter, and you stiffen up in shyness, “Is this everything for you?”
The man looked tired, but he let out a soft, yet stern ‘yes.’
As you rang up his order you looked back up to him, your lips curling into a small grin, “How was work?” This caught them both off guard, “Oh- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to assume-” I mean.. Unless this guy enjoys walking around in a whole business suit for funsies.
He actually lets out a chuckle, “It’s okay. It was a busy day.”
You both stayed silent for a second before he asked in return, “How was your day, miss?” This made you feel warm and your smile only got bigger, “It was wonderful! I got to serve a lot of customers. They bought their kids in. It was so fun.”
‘And cause you came into the shop twice.’
“Ah sorry.. I’m trailing. I didn’t mean to ramble- you must be dying to get home.”
‘No, I could get used to listening to you.’ is what he wanted to say;
Instead he lets out a relieved sigh, “It’s alright. I’m glad you had a good day today.” This caused your cheeks to tint red. Dying from embarrassment because you just knew that your coworkers were listening in, she redirects the topic, and points at the cake, “Do you like those?” He nods again, “They’re the best I’ve ever had. Compliment the baker for me.” Oh your heart, you could hear it beating so hard from your chest.
You do a mental fist pump before clapping your hands with glee, “Oh I’m so glad you liked them!” You go around the counter and grab another slice just for him. You stared up at him in absolute awe, because behind the counter was elevated by at least a foot.
This man was tall, as hell.
He just looks down at you eyeing your move. You push the cake towards him even harder, “This one is on the house!” He tilts his head in question. You double down and nod your head, affirming the choice. He grabs hold of the cake with one hand, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
‘Ask for her name Nanami’ He repeats to himself in his head
“What is your name?” She beats him to the punch.
‘Have you lost your touch?’-- “Nanami”
“I really like your name. It’s beautiful! My name is Y/N.”
‘Y/N, huh.. What a nice name..’
You give him his bag as he recollects his thoughts, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve got to get going. Work” You shoot him one last smile before waving him off, “Thank you for coming! It was nice to meet you! Don’t work too hard!”
An hour goes by and it's time for the bakery to close for the night. You turn the lights off as the ladies load up the delivery car with food that wasn’t sold for the day so they could give it to the local kitchens and homeless shelters. You bid your coworkers farewell before hopping into your car and collecting yourself, before driving home.
After you get home you jump into bed, eager to text Nobara.
[Txt] Y/N - “I met such a cute guy today!”
A second later there’s an audio msg from her of Gojo;
[Voice Recording] “Wahh?! Y/N I wasn’t there today!” in a whiny bit.
You laugh as Nobara actually sends a text;
[Txt] Nobara - “Tell me all about it when you come to karaoke… matter of fact, he should come!”
But you just met.. How are you going to pull that off… and will he even want to go is the better question… what if he thinks you’re weird … oh lord… so many overthinking possibilities.. Ok but what if he actually says yes?
[Txt] Y/N- “Are you sure?”
[Txt] Nobara - “Yeah! Gojo-sensei is paying anyway.”
#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento fanfic#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami fluff#kento x reader
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zutto — chapter five | wc: 6.5k | series masterpost | prev. chapter
chapter summary: as night settles in and the rain pours on, Lia finally says the three magic words
tags and trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, noah making jokes about cucumbers, noah being jealous of brad pitt, mentions of noah's nightmares and references to everything that's happened until now, specifically lia's drinking habits, sexual content including dry humping, oral sex (male rec.), swallowing, one mention of choking, mentions of birth control pills, and p in v (unprotected).
general trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18
💫 @bluestdai precious fanart of noah and lia in this chapter
The storm was still pounding hard on the apartment windows by the time Noah came out of the shower.
In fact, it seemed to have gotten worse. Noah didn’t remember seeing on the news that such a downpour was going to hit, but at the same time, it’s not like he’d been paying much attention to the weather either when all he’d been focused on was Lia.
And Lia continued to be the center of his attention as he shamelessly walked out of the bathroom naked and into the bedroom.
He could hear her in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as she decided what to make for dinner. They could have ordered something, but they’d already used that option several times since returning to Los Angeles. Besides, with the weather outside, it didn’t seem wise to bother the delivery people.
His eyes fell on Lia’s bra, still lying forgotten on the floor beside the bed. Smiling to himself, Noah picked it up and placed it on the dresser where he’d had Lia sitting a while before, as he kissed her and she squeezed her legs around it. He remembered how she had kissed him, her legs wrapped around him. After pampering and cleaning her in bed, Lia had put on one of his T-shirts, slipped back into her panties, and donned some socks. Noah had then gone to take a shower.
Nearby, he spotted the empty condom packet and tossed it into the small wastebasket in the corner. He dressed in a white T-shirt and joggers before crossing the hallway to the kitchen. As he approached, Lia looked up, her expression lighting up.
“Hi,” Noah said, leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area.
Lia had trouble looking away, admiring how handsome he looked with his damp hair and fresh scent. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun, but her flushed cheeks and the mix of sweetness and mischief in her eyes reminded Noah of a little girl who had just been kissed by the boy he liked. Unable to resist, he leaned toward her, resting his forearms on the marble countertop. He lifted her chin with two fingers and kissed her.
The kiss was brief but left a lingering warmth. When Lia pulled away, the sensation of Noah’s lips and fingers remained with her. Noah watched as she licked her lips, contemplating whether to take her back to the room or let her eat something first.
“You don’t taste like rain anymore,” Lia said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Ah, no? What do I taste like?”
“Like Noah.”
His smile broadened.
He moved around the counter to stand beside her, trying to keep the lingering euphoria in check as he scanned her bare legs. Picking up a piece of carrot Lia had been chopping, he playfully asked, “And now? Carrot?”
Lia’s laughter filled the kitchen as he kissed her again. Her joy warmed his heart.
“Can you grab the cucumber from the fridge?” Lia requested.
“Sure thing,” Noah replied, retrieving the cucumber. “I didn’t realize it was that big when we bought it,” he teased, pretending to examine the vegetable closely.
Lia rolled her eyes with a chuckle, her cheeks warming as she took the cucumber from him.
“What are you making?” Noah asked, glancing at the pot of boiling water on the stove.
“Rice,” Lia replied. “I don’t want to upset my stomach. Is rice with chicken okay for dinner?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Are you having a stomachache?” Noah’s concern was evident in the way he narrowed his eyes at her.
“No, just being cautious.”
“Hm. And what’s that smell?” he inquired, scrunching his nose in curiosity as he looked back towards the stove.
“I added cumin seeds. They’re good for digestion.”
“Smells good.”
"Uh-huh.”
“I’m sure Davis’ used those before.”
“Likely. Could you hand me the nuts from the cupboard behind you?”
“Of course.” Before doing so, Noah leaned over and gave her a resounding kiss on the top of her head. Lia’s face flushed with a mix of surprise and delight as she began to cut into the cucumber. Although she was accostumed to his affection, she was aware that after that day, the line she had been so afraid to cross was now behind them. She would have to adjust to these new habits: Noah stroking her hair while she drew, her rubbing his leg under the table in public, sharing mischievous glances in crowded rooms, and exchanging kisses during mundane moments around the house.
A surge of happiness washed over her. As she continued with her task, she clung to that happiness, promising herself she would never let it go.
Together, they finished preparing dinner and ate with the rain and thunder as their backdrop. They chatted about the weather and other trivial matters. As expected, Lia brought up work and mentioned the trip to Japan. Noah steered the conversation away from becoming an argument by promising they would discuss it the next day, but not that night.
After dinner, Noah offered to do the dishes. Lia cleared the table and, once done, moved towards the bathroom for a quick visit before settling on the couch to watch a movie and fall asleep in Noah’s arms. However, as she took two steps out of the kitchen, she felt a tug on her shirt. Turning around, she saw that Noah had grabbed the stitching of her shirt and wasn’t letting go.
“What?” Lia asked.
Noah raised his eyebrows and said, “Give me a kiss.”
The intensity of his gaze had grown since they’d made love, and the fluttering butterflies in his stomach had quickened. Lia’s confusing faded, replaced by a warm smile that spread across her face, turning her uncertainty into joy.
“Okay,” she replied, stepping closer and tilting her head up to meet Noah’s lips. He placed a gentle hand on her waist while his other hand held a plate.
“Get used to this,” Noah told her after pulling away. “I’m not letting you go anywhere without a kiss first, got it?”
If Lia’s smile could have gotten any bigger, it would have.
“Understood.”
Seeing her cheeks flush, Noah continued, “Gotta make up for all the ones we’ve missed.”
Lia frowned in mock concern and replied in a low voice, “That’s going to be… a lot of them.”
“Then we’d better start making up for them,” he concluded, dropping the dish he’d been washing. With suds-covered hands, he pulled Lia’s cheeks towards him and kissed her again. Lia’s giggles vibrated against Noah’s lips, and he felt the water from his wet hand slide down her cheek.
When they broke apart, Noah reveled in the fact that he was the one who could make Lia, whom he’d known all his life, so flushed.
He pretended to focus on washing the dishes, saying to Lia, “I think you’ve got some suds on your face,” while gesturing to his own cheek. He let Lia turn away and lose herself in the hallway.
She was so consumed by love that after disappearing in the hallway she had to stop for a moment and steady herself against the wall.
When she emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, the aroma of popcorn filled the house. Lia found Noah sprawled on the couch, legs outstretched, feet resting on a cushion on the coffee table. The TV displayed the Netflix home screen.
“I’ve made popcorn,” Noah announced, pointing to the bowl next to him.
“I can see that,” Lia replied, walking over and taking a seat beside him.
She couldn’t recall the last time Noah had seemed so relaxed. Even during the days they’d spent in her apartment, sheltered from the outside world, the tension had been palpable in his behavior. Despite their attempts to relax with movies, books, and tending to Lia’s flowers, Noah’s posture always hinted at worry, his attention frequently elsewhere.
As Lia settled next to him, she didn’t realize that that night, their focus would shift away from the movie and onto something much more comforting than the concerns that had weighed on them recently.
“Do you have any preference?” Lia asked, referring to the movie.
Noah shook his head. “Anything, but don’t make it sad.”
Lia leered at him a conflicted half-smile. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and perched on the edge of the couch as she navigated through Netflix.
Behind her, Noah’s eyes fell on her hair. She still wore it in a bun, exposing her neck, but a few strands had come loose. As his eyes traced down her back, almost smiling at how oversized his T-shirt looked on her, Noah couldn’t help but reach out and gently stroke one of the loose strands of hair.
Lia took a deep breath, struggling not to melt under his touch. She feared becoming like a lovesick teenager, but she let Noah touch her hair. As she pretended to be engrossed in choosing a film, Noah’s fingers continued to graze the stray strands of her hair before moving to trace gentle lines down her back over the fabric of his T-shirt.
“Are you feeling better?” Noah’s voice cut through the hushed tranquility of the apartment, his concern soft but clear amidst the rain against the windows.
Lia nodded, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze when she felt his fingers stop the patterns they’ve been tracing at her back. “I have a slight headache, but I can barely feel it,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of weariness but also relief.
Noah’s brow furrowed as his fingers resumed their soothing trail along her back. “Aren’t you tired? The withdrawal episode was pretty rough. And after that, we were cooped up in the room for a while.”
Lia shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I might fall asleep ten minutes into the movie,” she admitted. “But I’m not sleepy—at least not yet—, which is strange.”
“We can go straight to bed if you need,” Noah suggested.
“No,” Lia replied, her hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn. “I feel like being here.” She popped a handful into her mouth, then glanced at him. “Should I bring something to drink?”
“No, stay here,” he said, his tone dismissive.
As Lia hit play and leaned back on the couch, the ambient light from the screen flickered softly around them, creating a warm glow. Noah wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her snugly against him. Lia curled up beside him, her legs folded beneath her, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.
“You don’t think about drinking at all?” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper, a low murmur that seemed to blend with the gentle patter of rain.
Lia sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly. Her eyes were fixed on the tv screen, where the familiar Tristar Pictures logo began to dissolve into the opening scenes. “I know it sounds hard to believe, but ever since I woke up in the hospital, every time I think about alcohol, I feel a wave of disgust. It’s not that I haven’t thoguht about dirnking—I have. I just wouldn’t do it now, but I’m worried. I’m scared that once all this calms down… I’m afraid this will be temporary. And if that needs come back along with the withdrawal symptoms…”
“Whether it’s temporary or not, we’ll deal with it together,” Noah reassured her. “No matter what.”
Lia lifted her chin and gave him a tender, grateful smile. “I know.”
Noah kissed her forehead before sinking deeper into the couch, adjusting his position to make her as comfortable as possible. “What movie did you choose?”
“Legends of the Fall.”
Noah raised an eyebrow in mock exasperation. “Brad Pitt again?”
“What do you mean, again? I can’t even remember the last time I saw a movie with Brad Pitt in it,” Lia retorted, a playful edge in her voice.
Noah made a grand, exaggerated gesture of annoyance, raising his eyes theatrically to the ceiling. Lia pulled away slightly and scowled at him, unable to supress a giggle.
“Are you jealous, is that it?”
“Me? Jealous of Brad Pitt? He’d probably enjoy that.”
Lia laughed, and Noah, seizing the opportunity, slid his arm down to her waist and attempted to tickle her. Lia squirmed and laughed louder, gasping as she tried to get his hands off of her. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”
After that, they settled into a placid time, the movie playing softly as the rain outside continued to fall, its rhythmic drumming blending with the flicker of the screen and making Noah and Lia’s effortless intimacy even sweeter.
Lia felt the rise and fall of Noah’s chest beneath her cheek, her hand resting on his thigh. Noah felt content; lost in the serene bliss of having Lia so close. He’d spent months —years, possibly— longing and dreaming of moments like this. The sight of her next to him, the ease with which they fit together, the memories of being inside of her and seeing his love reflected in her eyes, was a treasure he knew he would never take for granted.
Contrary to her earlier predictions, Lia remained awake as the film progressed. Her gaze drifted from the screen to her hand resting on Noah’s thigh. A subtle movement of her fingers, a gentle caress against the fabric of his sweatpants, distracted her. She wasn’t sure if she was more absorbed in the finger-dance she herself started or in the knowledge that she had her hand very close to Noah’s crotch.
As her thoughts drifted, she remembered the pleasure Noah had given her in bed, how it had allowed her to focus solely on the rhythm of their bodies moving together. It had been a welcome distraction from the pain she’d felt before, when her body had longed for a pill that would have done nothing to help.
But their lovemaking hadn’t been a mere temporary fix. It had been an act that solidified what had always existed between them and promised to be repeated in the future.
So, Lia found herself completely disengaged from the movie. Her hands, almost at their own accord, crawled towards Noah’s crotch. The moment she rested her hand on top of it, she felt his cock twitch beneath her fingers.
Noah, who had been making an effort to keep his attention on the film and resist the temptation of Lia’s touch, was interrupted when she touched him there. He looked at her, her large brown eyes brimming with a magical allure that always made his heart flutter. When Lia’s fingers moved to encircle the rapidly growing bulge in his sweats, Noah abandoned the movie entirely.
He set the popcorn bowl aside and pulled Lia onto his lap, her legs straddling him as her hands grasped his cheeks to draw him closer. Their lips met in a desperate kiss, as if the calm of the room had been merely a prelude to the passion that would consume them not long after right there.
Their breaths quickened with each brush of their lips, the playful dance of their tongues, and the fervent grip of their hands on each other’s bodies. Lia arched her body against Noah’s, pressing her chest into his. Her fingers glided down the back of his neck before returning to his face. She yearned to touch him everywhere, to feel every inch of his skin. Despite Noah’s hands holding her—one on her waist and the other one cradling her head, pressing her against him—Lia showed no intention of letting go. She tightened her grip behind his head, using the press of her mouth against his to convey that she didn’t want to be even an inch away.
For a fleeting moment, as she heard a moan escape Noah’s lips, Lia opened her eyes. It was a brief second, but it was enough to send an electric thrill through her body. Seein Noah’s closed eyes and feeling his deep, passionate intentions toward her intensified her desire for him.
She relaxed in his arms, rubbing against him. A couple of hours earlier, she might have felt self-conscious about this, but now she was beyond caring.
She moved her hips against him, feeling Noah’s erection grow beneath her with each motion, warming her. Noah’s fingers fumbled with her hair stick, removing it and allowing her long hair to cascade freely. The scent of her shampoo enveloped his senses. Lia was all he could feel, smell, and breathe. He didn’t want it any other way. He caressed her hair, letting the strands slide through his fingers.
To his surprise, Lia pressed her body fully against him and grabbed his hair, tilting his head back and causing him to arch his neck. Without hesitation, Lia kissed her way down his jaw and chin until she reached his neck, where she nibbled on the red apple tattooed on his skin.
“Fuck, Lia.” His voice was restrained with pleasure. He melted beneath her, breathing softly in her ear, making a sound that seemed divinely orchestrated.
Lia continued to explore his neck, her lips trailing feather-light kisses. Her hands remained tangled in his hair while the other slid down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
Althought Noah had drawn the curtains on the balcony doors, a small gap remained uncovered. If Lia had looked that side, she would have seen her reflection—straddling noah while he reclined on the sofa, his profile illuminated by the soft light of a lamp in the corner, next to a strelitzia that Lia had tended to for over a year.
The tattoo on Noah’s neck seemed to writhe over his flexing tendons, its spirals a warning against anyone daring to disturb its owner. Lia lingered on the snake’s head before slowly moving up his neck and jaw, leaving a trail of delicate kisses.
When Lia released his hair, she moved back up to his mouth, mesmerized by the rhythm of Noah’s breathing. He lifted his head slightly, one hand slipping inside her shirt to rest on her side before moving to her neck, drawing her face closer to his. Lia watched as he closed his eyes and moistened his lower lip with a quick lick. He brushed his lips against hers with incredible softness, breaking contact for a few seconds and creating a tantalizing anticipation. With a slight tilt of his head, he lingered just out of reach. Lia felt gloriously overwhelmed when their lips finally met again, in a kiss so tender and unbearably slow that she felt like she was drowning in it, savoring the salty taste of the popcorn he had been enjoying.
Gradually, Lia began to move against him with increasing fervor, driven by an energy she couldn’t quite pinpoint but knew she needed. She was desperate to feel Noah inside her again. While she was confident Noah would give her what she wanted, she didn’t want to rush. She was savoring the dance, and Noah was clearly enjoying it too.
As her hands slid down his chest, expressing her desire to touch him, she pulled at his shirt. Noah lifted his arms obligingly, allowing Lia to remove it. Her lips immediately claimed his once he was shirtless, and Lia’s body responded to his nudity with euphoric intensity. Noah could feel her nipples hardening as she rubbed against him like a cat in heat.
Driven by his most primal instincts, Noah grabbed a handful of Lia’s hair, kissing her with hunger. His cock throbbed in his pants, craving more attention than the heat of Lia’s groin. Noah’s fingers dug into her waist.
However, in the midst of that moment, a memory struck him—his nightmare from the previous night, where he had been holding Lia so tightly he’d hurt her. His heart lurched in his chest. As Lia’s hand slid down his stomach and she nibbled on his lip, he almost stopped her, fearing he might be hurting her, someway, somehow.
Before he could react, Lia detached her lips from his and, in less than three seconds, slid off the sofa to kneel between his legs, her hands working on the knot of his sweatpants. Noah stared, stunned for a moment, his breathing ragged. Then, as the scene unfolded before him, he realized it wasn’t a nightmare.
It was a fantasy coming to life.
When Lia looked up at him, almost seeking permission, Noah noticed her flushed cheeks and a hint of embarrassment. She tugged at his pants, nonetheless, and Noah lifted his hips to help her remove them alongside his boxers.
Noah, breathless and overwhelmed, felt a rush of heat as Lia took him into her mouth. A curse caught in his throat as he let his head fall back against the sofa, consumed by the sensation of her fingers wrapped around the base. Her teasing licks sent shivers through him before she settled into a steady rhythm. Noah’s hand instinctively moved to her hair, and he tugged gently, his moans escaping uncontrollably. Unable to look away, he watched Lia kneeling before him, each pulse within her mouth heightening his pleasure. Lia, absorbed in the salty taste and strength of him against her lips, found the reality of being with him this way better than she’d ever imagined, though a flutter of doubt lingered in her mind.
Noah gathered Lia’s hair in his hands, his fingers brushing through the strands that framed her face. Lia was so absorbed in the need to please him and the softness of his touch that she wasn’t sure if his murmured encouragments were real or a figment of her imagination. Her fantasies seemed to blend with the sensations of the moment.
Overcome by a moment of insecurity, Lia paused, drawing a deep breath as she looked at the flushed tip and the veins tracing his length. He was breathtakingly beautiful. Noah’s hands fell from her hair. Lia placed her hands on his knees and met his gaze.
“Lia? What’s wrong?” Noah asked. Had he tugged to hard at her hair? Pushed himself to deep? Overwhelmed her?
Before he could voice his worries, Lia spoke softly, almost embarrased, “I’ve never–I’ve never swallowed.”
If he was shocked by her confession, he didn’t show it.
“Lia, that’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s fine. You’re already—”
“But I want to,” she cut him off, her big brown eyes starting up at him with such adoration that his cock twitched on its own. The realization of her wanting him to release in her mouth had his heart racing.
“I just—I might have to—” she trailed off, unsure how to express what she meant. Noah understood immediately and shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her.
“Can you just—not hold my head when you come?”
“Of course. Whatever you want. But I swear I’d be happy with just—”
She didn’t give him time to finish. Her mouth was back on him, and Noah swallowed hard, trying futilely to grip the sofa. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He had imagined Lia sucking him off countless times, but he hadn’t expected it to happen tonight. He would have been happy just making her feel good, but it was clear now that in their relationship, they were both equally interested in providing each other with as much pleasure as possible.
Two minutes into it, Lia licked his frenulum with a teasing touch that Noah had never experienced before.
“Wha—Fuck. Lia—Fuck.” His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, making him buck his hips involuntarily.
She gagged slightly as she felt his warmth spreading along his length until it reached the tip. His release filled Lia’s mouth and the back of her throat. The new experience, the taste, was overwhelming, but she forced herself to stay calm. She slowly released Noah from her mouth and swallowed, ignoring his intense gaze, as if he were worried he might come again just by watching her. Lia stood up and hurried to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Noah’s eyes stayed on her the whole time, even though he was sprawled on the couch, completely satisfied.
Lia took a deep breath as she set down the glass of water and smiled.
“You okay?” Noah asked, amused, trying to recover his breath.
“Yeah,” she breathed out, catching her own breath. “Do you want some?” She lifted her now-empty glass.
“Yes, that’d be great.”
She refilled her glass and poured another one for him. When he took it from her hand, he gulped it down and set it on the coffee table. Lia stood in front of him, eyeing the last drips of him that had come out.
“Do you need anything else?”
“Yes,” he said. “You.”
He grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled her astride his lap, making her let out an adorable squeal. Before attacking her mouth, he grabbed the TV remote and switched off the movie that had been playing in the background.
“Fuck Brad Pitt,” he sentenced.
Lia’s mouth was hot, her lips slippery.
Lia’s clothes disappeared in no time—her socks, t-shirt, and panties scattered on the living room floor.
Noah’s lips traveled across her face, down her neck and chest, nibbling at her breasts and giving her nipples the attention they demanded. He was already hard again, and Lia would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a hint of pride in getting Noah so excited twice in less than five minutes.
Noah wrapped his arms around her and tried to move them so he could lay her down, but Lia pressed her hands on his shoulders and leaned her body weight against him, grounding him.
“I want to do it like this,” she said.
At this point, Noah was convinced he had been granted the greatest gift on earth. Lia wanted to ride him. There was no way he was going to deny her that.
“I’m all yours.”
He slid down a bit, reclining his head and body so that he was half lying down, half sitting, but comfortably. This position would also give him a great view of her as she moved on top of him. His hands never left Lia’s hips.
“Condom?” he asked.
Lia’s eyes shot up. She glanced over her shoulder as if trying to recall if she had any condoms left anywhere in the house. She muttered a soft curse. “That was the last one,” she acknowledged, a hint of worry in her voice. Noah’s thumbs stroked her thighs.
“You’re not on the pill, are you?” he asked.
Lia shook her head. With all the medication she had been taking, one good thing was that she didn’t add another. Condoms had always been sufficient.
“I’m clean,” Noah said, hesitation in his voice. “I’m not saying it because I…”
“I’m good, too.”
“Lia…” he said, a warning in his tone.
“I don’t mind, really. I’d love to feel you like this. As long as… you know, just…”
Noah nodded fervently, “I will.”
He fused his mouth with hers.
He had chosen her. Out of all the women—and men—at his feet, he had chosen her. A rockstar like him, with his bank account growing by the day, could have had anything, but he had chosen her. It had always been her.
“You’re going to spoil me, you know that?” Noah said.
“Maybe you deserve to be spoiled.”
She slowly sank onto him, her face contorting into an expression of blissful pleasure, mirroring Noah’s. She fit so well around him.
Just like that, she began a decadent dance on top of him, making the temperature in the room rise and their bodies start to glisten with a thin layer of sweat as they provided each other with pleasure not only through their bodies but also with the sounds escaping their mouths.
Occasionally, Noah would grab Lia by the hair and pull her closer to kiss her, unable to stay away from her even while inside her.
At one point, with their breathing calming, Lia rested her head on his shoulder. Her skin was flushed, and Noah’s kisses on her other shoulder and the caresses of his hands sliding up and down her back didn’t soothe her; they only heightened her arousal. Noah kissed her neck, lingering there longer than usual to leave a mark that would be visible for the next few days.
“Tired?” he asked after noticing her movements had slowed.
“Yeah,” she admitted, her breath heavy against his shoulder. “It’s been a long day.”
He gently lifted his hips, his hands guiding her as he took control. As he eased her down onto him, she let out a deep sigh, her eyes fluttering closed in response.
“I want to pleasure you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
“What makes you think you’re not?” he countered, his tone light yet sincere. “You could be out in the garden, pulling weeds, and I’d still find pleasure just watching you. Don’t be silly, Lia.”
His words seemed to drift away as her focus narrowed to the intense feeling of him filling her completely. Drawing on her remaining energy, she braced herself by placing her hands on his chest. Her expression was a mix of determination and fatigue.
“As you wish,” Noah said with a resigned smile, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender.
He observed her intently, his gaze tracing the subtle signs of her fatigue. The once-lively spark in her eyes was now dulled, overshadowed by a weariness that clung to her features. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, and her shoulders drooped slightly, as if the weight of her exhaustion had become almost tangible. Her movements, once fluid and confident, had slowed to a laborious rhythm, each shift of her body marked by a visible strain. The effort was etched in the way her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Noah’s concern deepened as he noticed the tremor in her hands and the slight unsteadiness in her posture, the kind that spoke of both physical and emotional fatigue.
“Lia, stop for a moment,” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. It’s not necessary. Try just moving your hips and let the rest of your body relax. Can you do that?”
She nodded. Slowly, she began to shift her movements. With a deep breath, she eased herself up and then lowered her hips, her motions turning softer and controlled. Her body felt heavy, but she managed to find a rhythm, focusing on the subtle undulations of her hips rather than the whole of her being. Each descent was measured, the motion more fluid and less strained than before. She let her upper body remain still, leaning into his touch for support, while her hips did the work, creating a gentle, rolling rhythm against him. Her breathing steadied as she adjusted, her movements becoming a blend of exhaustion and desire, finding a delicate balance that allowed her to continue without overexertion.
Noah’s hands remained steady on her hips, guiding her with a supportive touch, and his gaze softened as he watched her, appreciating the effort she put into adjusting her dance.
“Feels good?”
“I feel full,” she replied.
Full of me, Noah thought.
She looked so beautiful on top of him, with her head thrown back, neck exposed, lips parted, and the little furrow between her brows that told him she was lost in pleasure. He felt an intense urge to wrap his hand around her neck and apply just enough pressure to elevate her pleasure to new heights, but he hesitated. Knowing her past made him wary of pushing her boundaries. Instead, he let his fingers trail gently down her chin, neck, and chest. Her long hair, cascading over her shoulders and down her back, framed her as she moved her hips in seductive circles.
He knew there wasn’t anything in this world he wouldn’t do for her—his girl.
They loved being in each other’s arms. It didn’t feel unfamiliar. It was comfortable and nice. If Lia had felt any shyness or inhibition about being naked and on top of him, it was gone. With the press of her palms on his chest, she helped herself move up and down on Noah’s cock, much to his pleasure. It was one thing to be inside of her, and another to see her use him to pleasure herself. She looked like a goddess on top of him, stunningly beautiful with her hair flowing freely. When she threw her head back one more time with a long moan, her lips red from his kisses, he grunted and his hips lifted uncontrollably, earning a follow-up cry of pleasure from Lia.
She tightened around him in a way that nearly left him breathless. His brows furrowed, his body tensing.
“What did you…? How did you do that? Fuck,” he managed, his voice thick with surprise.
She did it again and smiled wickedly at his expression.
“Are you trying to kill me? Is that what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and challenge. Then he pounded into her hard, once, twice.
Lia smiled widely.
“What are you smiling at, huh?” Noah asked, one hand sliding up to flick her nipple with two fingers.
“Nothing,” she replied with a smirk.
“Nothing? You know exactly what you’re doing.”
He thrust all the way in again, making her breath catch in her throat. She gripped his shoulders, her body surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of him buried deep inside her.
“Noah…”
Both their orgasms were imminent.
A few more thrusts, their movements growing increasingly sloppy, and Lia announced she was about to come. The knowledge sent a jolt of excitement through Noah, his heart racing and his cock responding with fierce urgency. Lia clenched around him, rubbing her clit with the tips of three fingers, her moans building in intensity.
Just as her cries reached a fever pitch, a particularly heavy clap of thunder roared outside, its explosive sound nearly drowning out her primal scream, the thunderous crack coinciding perfectly with Lia’s climax. She exploded in a wave of ecstasy, her cries mingling with the storm’s fury, as if nature itself was echoing the intensity of her release.
Noah, driven by the electric energy of the moment, gripped her hips roughly and thrust into her with a raw, relentless rhythm. The thunder outside seemed to be in sync with his movements, each rumble intensifying his own impending orgasm. With a final, forceful thrust, he reached his peak, his body convulsing in a series of spasms as he pulled out of Lia, lifting her effortlesly from him. He unloaded himself onto his own stomach, a restrained wail escaping his lips, barely audible over the storm’s roar.
Breathing heavily, he drew her close, careful not to get her dirty with his come. Their movements were weary but the affection was still present. He kissed her, his touch tender despite the explosive moment they had shared. His hand moved to brush the hair from her face, revealing her post-orgasmic glow. She looked radiant—exhausted but deeply satisfied.
Outside, the storm continued to rage, its fury unrelenting. The heavy thunder that had marked their climaxes now became a distant rumble, a lingering reminder of the night’s dramatic and passionate intensity. Lia carefully turned around and reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table, her movements slow. With a slight grimace of effort, she grabbed a few tissues and returned to him. She began to clean him. The soft rustle of the tissues and their quiet breaths filled the room, the rain and thunder background music.
As she worked, a hint of wistfulness crossed her face. “Do you remember...” Her expression was bittersweet, as if she was wrestling with her own emotions. Noah’s gaze shifted from her fingers, carefully wiping the last traces of his release with a crumpled tissue, to the way her lashes cast shadows over her eyes. “The night we had sex—drunk sex,” she clarified, avoiding his eyes. “It was also raining.”
Noah’s gaze softened as he took in the reminiscence.
“I remember,” he said, his voice low and reflective. He placed his hands on her hips and begand rawing circles with his thumbs, sensing how she relaxed under his touch. “Maybe the rain knew all along… It knew this was meant to be, you and me.”
“Then it had more clarity than I did,” she replied, a trace of frustration in her voice as she chided herself.
Determined not to let Lia’s demons intrude, he sat upright and lifted her, instructing her to lie down and relax. He placed her back on the sofa, picking another tissue to wipe her before he took the rest of tissues from her hands and walked to the kitchen to dispose of them.
When he returned, he found her lying on the couch, utterly spent. Her body was relaxed, one of her hands grazing her clavicle, her legs bent comfortably with her feet flat on the cushions. He sat down beside her, a satisfied smile gracing his features. With an almost reverent touch, he extended his arm and placed his hand on her stomach, starting to run his fingers up and down in an hypnotizing pattern. His expression changed, softening as he took in the sight of her, vulnerable and serene. The warmth shared, the scent of their coupling, and the gentle rain outside made the room feel like a safe haven.
“Lia, I need to hear you say it,” he said then, softly, his voice rich with earnestness.
She paused, taking in his request. It took her a moment to speak, not out of doubt but because she wanted to convey the full depth of her feelings. It was the first time she would vocalize them, and she wanted him to fully grasp the significance of her words.
After a deep, steadying breath, she finally said, “I love you, Noah.”
The way he smiled then could’ve stopped wars.
Moments later, he lifted her off the sofa, eliciting a surprised little scream from her.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and excitement.
“To the bedroom,” he replied. “So I can keep loving you. Think you can give me a fourth one?” His hand slid down to her bottom, giving it a gentle, affectionate pat, as his question vibrated in her ear.
She nestled against his neck, a mix of sleepiness and joy washing over her. “That depends on your performance,” she murmured, fully aware of how her words would tease him.
“On my performance?” He said, souding both incredulous and slightly amused. His tone shifted to a teasing lilt. “Seems like you haven’t seen me on stage.”
Lia giggled against his shoulder.
“I have… But you might have to remind me,” she replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.
He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. He turned her onto her stomach and dove straight into her left buttock, nibbling and growling playfully. Her laughter bubbled up as she lifted herself on her forearms, watching him over her shoulder. Her gaze was filled with both trust and desire as he positioned himself behind her.
“With pleasure.”
— prev. chapter | chapter six
Taglist:
@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken
@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @xcllnt | @bluestdai
If there's anyone I'm forgetting or that wants to be added to the taglist, please let me know 🥰
#noah sebastian x ofc#noah x lia#the inevitability of love at second sight#zutto#noah sebastian fanfiction#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian fic
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Those two shots contain the most symbolism out of everything related to Yingdu Chapter.
What made me think of Liu Xiao's tarot card was the throne and the goats, surrounded with obvious religious themes. The major arcana that could represent Vein the most depends on the same principles. The positions, the colors, the symmetry and the strong symbolism lead me to believe he is the High Priestess.
Good Fortune
I will always remember this tumblr post from ten years ago saying "tag your gore please" and it was just fractured pomegranates. What's funny here is that it is just the opposite.
We actually already encountered pomegranate flowers in the Link Click's verse, along with Spiderwort (Liu Xiao's flowers):
Seven pomegranates are visible, 8 implied, on the High Priestess card. The motif reminds us of power and eternal life, blood and death in persian and greek mythology but in China, they are regarded as a good luck charm in Buddhist religious ceremonies.
The chinese conotation of this fruit echoes to the red knots Vein wears at his wrists, as it symbolizes good fortune. More specifically, he's wearing the round brocade knot, also known as the six-flower knot, featureing a full, rounded shape with a cluster of flowers, representing reunion, unity, and a bright future with endless possibilities.
[Edit: BAHATI is also a word related to good fortune in Swahili. It refers to a positive outcome and serendipitous events in one's life.]
Vein chairs the table with 8 goons. Which is one more symmetry since it's regarded as the luckiest number in china: the number 8 being pronounced as “ba” in Mandarin, which sounds similar to the word for wealth or prosperity, “发” (fa). More generally, 8 is a recurring number in Link Click, one I believe reveals the number of people with special abilities in the show. The reason I came to this conclusion is this table, covered with wine glasses and candles:
8 of heart, two cakes with 8parts visible each, 8 wine glasses and the content of our of them spilled on Lu Guang.
8 visible chairs, 8 candles
8 glasses
The last artwork also paints the eternal fight between darkness and light, heaven and hell, under the overwhelming blood moon light (sidenote, the blood moon happens around Qiao Ling's birthday).
The hints of death and tragedy, and perhaps betrayal, are so obvious on this table that it is impossible not to make it meaningful. The importance of symmetry is a nudge to the balanced aesthetic of this specific tarot card as well.
Cognitive Dissonance
Overall, the High Priestess is a good omen in tarot reading. She appears as someone holding wisdom and showing mentorship but refusing to state the obvious. To her, not knowing means you shouldn't... yet. Because of this, she might represent much needed boundaries: accepting confusion and uncertainty and do not seek knowledge that you shouldn't know.
With access to higher and secret knowledge through her inner self, she connects to God and can be seen as a mediator. If there is an ultimate truth, it cannot be voiced, only discovered: we can fill out the blank by paying attention to non-obvious cues, collect and connect it, and draw out the missing pieces.
This inner guidance, it mostly appears when there is an important lack of balance in own's life, and making sense of a situation turns out to be difficult. Often, pain is greatly intellectualized in order to be subdued. We are overwhelmed and lost, and we think we need guidance when, in reality, we already know what to do. The most obvious course of action is just something we don't want to do or are not ready to do yet.
At worst, this card reveals a cognitive dissonance. Cognitive dissonance is the mental stress people experienced when exposed to information that is inconsistent with their beliefs, ideals or values. There are four theoretic paradigms: belief disconfirmation (rejection and refutation), induced compliance (manipulation and self-justification), free choice (structuring of decisions and importance of fairness), and effort justification (exaggerating the important of a goal to justify the effort in the process to achieve it). Each paradigm respectively explains what happens after a person acts inconsistently, relative to their intellectual perspectives; what happens after a person makes decisions and what are the effects upon a person who has expended much effort to achieve a goal.
Basically, the High Priestess advices to shut off our brain for a moment and listen to our intuition. And looking for a guide? You are your own guidance. You are powerful and will bend to no one. She isn't at your disposal to pat your head, she'll let you learn by experience instead of telling you what you want to hear. Knowlegde is at the door, you made it grow in your garden and if you haven't, you should have and now is a perfect time to start. She's sassy and frustrating.
What does this says about Vein? First, he is his own leader, has a mind of his own and he shaped himself, body and soul, with his own set of rules. And because of that, he will absolulety wins. He knows what needs to be known and isn't afraid to face whatever truth he'll find. Perhaps not knowing is exciting and the chase is elating to him. Or maybe he's obsessed with omniscience. Either way, knowledge is power to him. He can appear as a beast, driven by instincts more than wits. He suffers from no delusion and doesn't overthink. Everything is pretty simple when you take whatever life throw at you as it is. In that regard, true to himself and his nature, he is godlike, mortal morals and laws can't reach him. Anyone who would lie to themselves would probably appear as weak to him.
This card also speaks of endless cycles. Normally, it is a reassurance. What is happening, good or bad, will end at some point. And start again. Pain and happiness will always be part of life, hand in hand. Everything works in pairs for perfect balance. Shadows within can teach just as much as the light within a soul. Being powerful is not about being strong, it's about knowledge and understanding of how we and the world work as a whole. It is mutual respect.
Here, it strongly implies misuse of power, the inevitability of Death and infinite cycles. It calls Fate as ultimate natural force. It could be that making the same choice over and over again is putting Lu Guang in a confused state. Since this tarot card represents duality, the first rule in the Link Click'verse could be to respect the fragile balance between good and evil and leave the past untouched. Light calls darkness though, Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi having this kind of powers might mean the universe needs an evil counterpart. But it might as well place Vein as a mediator between the mortal world and the Underworld. He is painted as a messenger of Hell. He can seem demonic in some ways and is obviously assertive. between melted faces and desperate hands, we see the world he's ruling over.
Queen of the Underground
The High Priestess herself is a copy of mythical feminine figures related to the Underworld, such as Persephone and Isis. As a quick reminder:
Death, Rebirth, Marriage, Devotion, Betrayal. Themes common to Link Click. These two figures hold important clues.
Persephone
Because of Persephone’s unique relationship with darkness, she symbolizes spirituality and the integration of light and dark. She stands at the crossroads of two worlds, faced her shadows during winter despite her frail nature, only to bloom upon the world again in the everlasting cycle of life.
The cycle of life and spring reminds me of myosotis and daisies. Adaptable, with the memory of better times to move forward. But I also reflect on the black dahlia, Vein's flower. While a regular dahlia reveals a creative spirit, black ones mean sadness, betrayal, mourning and darkness. This flower has a particular way to react to winter as well: unable to tolerate the frost, its leaves turn black. What is reassuring is the fact myosotis and daisies are resilient plants and are able to survive cold! Don't lose hope just yet ;)
As the personification of duality, Persephone is the Maiden of Spring, innocent and joyful, just as much as the Queen of the Underground, powerful and vengeful at times. Her story reflects on themes of power and control too, as it shows that it isn't possible to go against our nature nor our desires, compromises is the only answer if we want steady relationships.
I feel like the promise of mentorship in the card itself is obvious. I don't know much about chinese mafia, but if we take the example of yakuza for instance, newbies would join and do stuff like gardening before they could be trusted with more responsabilities. They are promised protection and strength and don't get any salary. This wouldn't be possible without a great deal of adaptability, acceptance and perseverance. Going through hardship and have our independance taken away only makes us the most dangerous once we gain the power we were yearning for.
Marriage, as a commitment, is literally consumed when she eats pomegranate's seeds offered by Hades. This dinner is the wedding ceremony and her eating pomegranate's seeds is a metaphor that could also be linked to christianity.
The pomegranate’s seeds are said to represent the many teachings and practices of Buddhism, which lead to spiritual growth and enlightenment. Pomegranate were introduced by chinese traders in europe and were originally called chinese apple, due to its round shape. Coincidentally, apple, while representing the cyclical nature of existence and the interconnectedness of all things, is also the common fruit symbolizing the original sin which brought knowledge to humankind.
Tasting the apple and getting knowledge was a blessing and a curse: by getting a new power, humans lost divine protection and were chased out of Eden for their hubris.
Some would say Persephone still ate it willingly, others say her husband tricked her. Love truly grew out of it as they were never unfaithful, forever loyal to one another. They also were equals.
That being said, Persephone cannot divulge the secrets of the Underworld when she gets back to the other side. That does connect to the idea that the answer you are seeking isn’t for you to know.
Consumption is the first thing we notice in Vein's PV. We're shown meat (with implied cannibalism), but the narrative motif is the same: once you eat at the Underworld's ruler's table, you are as good as dead, your fate is sealed and you belong to him. You are trapped. Making the choice to feast at his table shows strength of character and determination to prove yourself. Probably with the delusion of getting protection and some sort of prestige out of it. At the center of the table, 5 pieces of meat are disposed, as the assumed five timelines Lu Guang is going through. Every man around the table looks the same, implying that Lu Guang, or Xia Fei, are just one among others who fell prey to Vein. Now, I don't want to alarm you, but there have been at least two instances of Cheng Xiaoshi either sitting and putting his feet on a table near cakes, so he should probably sleep with only one eye open...
Talking about consuming, allow me to digress and tell you about the Venus Flytrap.
According to the father of evolutionary science Charles Darwin, it is “one of the most wonderful plants in the world”. The most obvious reason is that this plant is a carnivore, and it truly is a wonder that survival and adaptation forced it to evolve in such a way.
That this plant is named botanically for the mother of Venus and that the common name is goddess of love. Love, turned into an unhealthy obession and possessive desire, is something akin to hunger. I would go as far as to say that the act of eating is a form of control, on ourselves or others. Additionally, a venus flytrap is a symbol of trust, control and boundaries in dreams. All of this reflects perfectly the myth of Persephone.
This text which is a very interesting take:
"The Venus Fly Trap, a unique carnivorous plant, epitomizes the spiritual principle of balance between giving and taking. It gives to the ecosystem by consuming insects, thereby maintaining ecological balance. In return, they take necessary nutrients from their prey to survive in nutrient-poor soil, representing the cycle of life and death. A potent reminder of the importance of strategy and cunning in overcoming life’s challenges."
Again, themes of balance and cycle of life and death.
Isis-Hathor
Here is the story between Isis, Osiris and Seth:
Isis is believed to have great power, Osiris is the god of the dead and Seth is considered the evil sibling, agent of chaos. Seth tricked his brother to go inside a wooden bow, closed the lid and throw the whole thing in the Nil. Isis found her husband Osiris and brought him back to life. Seth killed him again and cut him to pieces. She found each piece but one, his penis which got eaten by a fish. She put him back together.
Once again, we have this idea of tricking someone and the repetition of life and death in a more literal sense. Of course, once again, the character got changed forever.
Depending on who you ask, one of Isis' names is Hathor, who looks a lot like our High Priestess wearing her two horned crown with the moon in between. In Egyptian Mythology, the sun and moon were the right and left eyes of God.
While the Moon protects the High Priestess, Hathor is one of the gods related to Jupiter. Jupiter is known as the “king of the planets” and is associated with expansion, abundance, power and wealth. In astrology, Jupiter is a giver, and is tied to good fortune.
However, Zeus, Thor and Hathor, realted to Jupiter, all rules over the sky. On the tarot card, we can glimpse the ocean and the SKY, beyond the veil with pomegranates on it. The scroll in the High Priestess hands bears the letters TORA ("divine law"). It symbolizes the memory we carry inside about the past, present and future.
Hathor is known for crossing boundaries between worlds to help deceased souls in the transition to the afterlife.
Trial
Diving deeper into Egyptian beliefs on life and death, we obviously have to mention judgment and punishment. Which, brings me to these alternative: there are other possibilities for Vein's tarot card:
As its name implies, Judgement is a card of final judgement, as well as divine revelation. It’s the reward or punishment after living a spiritually aligned life. There are echoes of this card in Death, for they both remind us that everything comes to an end and that a new beginning is coming. This card is ruled by Pluto, who is the Underworld’s ruler.
Death is one of Cheng Xiaoshi's cards (I'll explain in Cheng Xiaoshi's Deck meta), and Vein and Cheng Xiaoshi's chess pieces are both Rocks (which take shape of a tower, coincidence?). What is interesting about the Vein/Cheng Xiaoshi pair in this perspective is that Waite gave the Fool the number 0, but in his book he discussed the Fool between Judgement (XX), and the World (XXI). Basically, it would mean Cheng Xiaoshi stands between Vein and the World haha. Isn't it a cool take?
The Judgement card reminds us that we all will be faced with choices that will have an astounding effect for your entire life. It brings to mind moments where actions have changed the course of one's path for good. No going back. And the consequences of those actions eventually will catch up. It's time to let go of the past in order to move forward and build a new life. Mistakes were made in the past. Use the learned lessons to make changes for the future.
I think this would mean more about Lu Guang than Vein himself, though. It's still interesting because it might reveal Vein's role in Lu guang's life. He's a trigger.
Back to mythology: after his second rebirth, Osiris could no longer rule Egypt and withdrew to rule the afterlife, becoming the lord and judge of the dead. Going through the test of the squales successfully, if the scales were balanced, the deceased had passed the test and was taken before Osiris who welcomed them into the afterlife. There, they would know eternal life. Through the hope of new life after death, Osiris began to be associated with the cycles in nature an rebirth. Meanwhile the damned would know destruction, as of in a state of not being.
This part is relevant to Vein. Not only the judge aspect, but the idea of enlightment making one man more legit to guide others sounds relevant to Vein. This concept, it can be found in the Wheel of Fortune as well. Before I go further on this path, let me theorize that Vein could have been victim or beneficiant of a paradox. Being saved by Fate itself could go to anyone's head, and it would explain why he seems to have to little regards for human life in general, and autoproclaims himself to be above the rest, King of the "undead". The meat imagery, cannibalism implied or not, is also related to the undead. Zombie, for example, is a term from Haitian folklore. It is an undead corporeal revenant created through the reanimation of a corpse. Unlike Persephone who consumed food from the underworld and turned into a Queen, Osiris was betrayed by his own brother, brought back to life at least twice, and got bannished into the afterlife as a secretary welcoming people in the afterlife. I guess it would make anyone kind of paranoid and angry?
ENLIGHTMENT
The character of Vein is coded with chinese traditions; Buddhist culture to be more specific. First, the red knot to attract good fortune, then his beliefs. @rainibao found the second clue by noticing the banner quoting Buddha's famous first words: "Throughout Heaven and Earth, I Alone Am The Honored One". It would refer to Buddha’s representation as embodying both human and divine qualities.
The phrase finds its roots in the Lotus Sutra, a prominent Buddhist text. As the story goes, immediately after birth Buddha took seven steps in each of the four directions and proclaimed, “In heaven above and on earth below, I am the most honored one. I shall dispel the suffering that fills the world.”
Any character quoting this part commands respect, awe and admiration. The character must be widely regarded as the most powerful, and said exceptional power and knowledge distinguish him from others.
I'll address the PIGS, now. Bear with me on this one haha:
In Christianity a pig is associated with violence, cruelty, lust and gluttony. In Buddhist illustrations though, it is at the center of the Samsara Wheel, symbolizing sins of the flesh and passion, yes, but also ignorance.
To understand what it is about, I've got the pleasure to poke at the Samsara Wheel. Allow me to sum it up for you:
According to Buddhist belief, the true nature of existence is expressed in the Wheel of Life. It shows the interconnectedness of all things, how a deluded state of mind imprisons us within the circle of sufferings. And as long as we are not enlightened, we remain imprisoned by the sufferings within this circle. The Four Noble Truths describe the truth of the universe and the nature of reality. The Second Noble Truth is known as samudaya. The word "samudaya" means "arising" and refers to the roots of suffering. It describes the cause of pain. Humans suffer because of cravings, which can be translated as "thirst". Craving keeps humans attached to existence. It means humans are reincarnated again and again, or "arise" again and again. The basic causes of suffering are known as the Three Poisons, or delusions. These are often represented as a rooster (greed), a pig (ignorance) and a snake (hatred). All suffering is ultimately caused by these human urges.
Ignorance refers to feelings of delusion, confusion, and dullness. It is represented by a pig. This poison is rooted in the delusion of believing we are separate, leading us to prioritize our own pleasure over the suffering of others, ignoring everyone's reality but our own. We will continue to suffer and cause suffering when we don’t see our interconnected reality. This can be experienced as an inability to see the truth or reality of ourselves or the world around us.
Vein is basically the head of a group of pigs, ignorant humans still falling victims of their basic desires. And he probably feels like he has to guide them in the afterlife, as kings and gods. Because he has seen the truth, you know? The problem is that he probably refuse to see that he isn't more powerful than Fate.
Among the tarot cards, the Wheel of Fortune turns evermore, seemingly to communicate that life is made up of both good and bad times, and that the cycle is one that we cannot control. No one should cling to the illusion of control. Perhaps in this turn of the wheel, the lesson is to learn to let go and release. There are things that cannot be moved by human will and action alone. When we do not let go, it can bring only more suffering. There are times, that no matter how much we try, the world will not bend to one’s will.
Once again, this could be associated to Lu Guang's narrative, but it is possible that Vein impersonates this and became the armed hand of Fate itself, keeping our main character to disturb the well oiled machinery of Time.
At the center of the card, lies a giant wheel, covered in esoteric symbols. There are different creatures that surround the wheel. The books that each of the creatures hold represents the Torah which communicates wisdom and self-understanding. The snake indicates the act of descending into material world. On the wheel itself, rides a sphinx that sits at the top, and what appears to be either a devil, or Anubis himself arising at the bottom. These two Egyptian figures are representative of the wisdom of the gods and kings (Sphinx) and the underworld (Anubis). They are rotating forever, in a cycle, and suggests that as one comes up, the other goes down.
CONCLUSION
My money is still on the High Priestress because of the visual and symbolism, but I thought it would be interesting to go deeper and dig into some more spiritual connections. Vein is pictured as the main antagonist in "Burning Palace" but Liu Xiao got more time under the spotline and seems at the center of the plot. The official content seems to introduce Vein as the trigger of it all but he is not the real obstacle nor the solution to Lu Guang's narrative. That's my opinon for now. As a secondary character, I think an arcane as powerful as Judgement or Wheel of Fortune might be too much.
Whatever happens, remember this was written out of pure curiosity and for fun. I spent hours on this but I'm not really attached to my theories. My point is that Link Click is a show which is done with love and care. And fucking brain lmao. I hope you had fun reading this meta.
[Edit: I posted this three weeks ago by mistake, it was a mere draft at the time. Hopefully those who read the first version will take a look at the complete post and find sense (absent of my previous nonsense lmao.)]
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Do No Harm
CHAPTER TEN: Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: Matt thinks back to your date that afternoon, and Foggy and Karen can't help but tease him about you. When a stranger comes to the office with the promise of money and a case, Matt gets suspicious. Later that night, when he can't stand it anymore, he calls you for comfort and answers.
Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Matt's self-deprecating thoughts, hurt/comfort, flirting, slight fluff, suggestive themes
Word Count: 4.7k
A/n: I'm so sorry that this took so long! The past few days have been so busy, and then I forgot I promised to post this on Friday. But you're getting it now!
Read Chapter 10: Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t here on AO3
Matt can’t stop smiling.
You smell of nature and yourself. He doesn’t pay much attention to the layers of artificial scents most products contain because to him, your natural scent is all that matters, and he knows how to tune out everything else that isn’t one-hundred percent yours. It is a fact you are so blissfully unaware of. How could you know? You have no idea just how heightened his senses are. To him, your scent is as distinctive as your heartbeat. It’s stuck to the tiny hairs in his nose; every time he takes a deep breath, he can smell you.
From the moment you stepped off the bus that afternoon, he could smell the salt on your skin, the antibacterial soap you use, and the particularly sensitive body lotion that makes your skin soft to the touch. You slathered your hands with an excessive amount of moisturizer, but it was in no way obnoxious. Matt enjoyed how the earthy tones suited you compared to the medicinal moisturizer you wear at the hospital. He enjoyed it so much, in fact, that he now can’t stop thinking about it. Even with cracked knuckles, your hands are the most delicate.
He should have kissed you. The way your heartbeat was speeding up when you bid your goodbyes told him that you would have wanted him to, but he was afraid of crossing that line. He isn’t playing a fair game, after all. You only know half of him. Anything beyond the stoic lawyer he presents on the outside could put you in danger, and he is afraid of losing you. God knows what would happen if he allowed you any closer.
Matt is drawn to you. He doesn’t want to be, but he can’t help the way he feels whenever he is around you. You offer a reprieve from the chaos that surrounds him. The world grows quiet for a moment when you’re around, and he finally has something beautiful to focus on.
The world isn’t beautiful. It’s ugly and vile, and most human beings make his experience excruciatingly painful. You take away the agony and instead replace it with a sense of giddiness that fills him with a gentle warmth. You consume him. As much as he wants to, and as much as he knows he should, he can’t stay away from you.
Foggy told him that he deserves to be happy; he has yet to realize that. Every time he tries to allow himself to feel joy, the fire in his heart moves into the shadow of a mountain of guilt, and it threatens to run out of oxygen.
You are a lot more reserved than he first expected, and when you told him the truth about your childhood, it broke him. It broke him to hear how much pain you are in. You were radiating waves of trauma, and they hit him all at once. He may relate to you, in a way, but still, he can’t fathom how bad it must have been, growing up with no one to take care of you while you had to take care of everyone else.
Something Matt is grappling with is the fact that your heartbeat was so erratic at times he feared it might break your ribs. He wasn’t misinterpreting the signs. He couldn’t have. And you weren’t lying, he is sure of that. Perhaps you were keeping something from him. If that’s the case, what does that mean for the two of you? He can’t expect you to trust him—he has no right to expect anything from anyone, especially not from someone he barely knows—but he has learned that when someone tries to hide the truth, it is worse than an unpopular opinion he might disagree on.
He wants to hold your hand again. He wants to be close to you. He wants to smell your skin, feel it under his calloused fingertips, and he wants to hear the sweet sound of your voice serenading him. If he could hold you, just for a minute, he’s sure his problems will fade away. The world will go quiet, and he can focus on you. The urge to keep you safe consumes him, but he doesn’t know what he wants to protect you from.
Matt only knows that he wants you, all of you, and it kills him that he can’t have you. To know all of you, he has to share all of him with you, and he would much rather crucify himself than drag you down with him.
As his thoughts turn dark, his smile fades. He was foolish to believe that the warmth of the sun wouldn’t be overshadowed by black clouds waiting to rain hell down on him. And Matt begins to wonder once again, if he deserves to be happy, why did God put the devil in him?
“Dude, you’re whipped!” Foggy says from the doorway to Matt’s office, leaning against it with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Matt raises his eyebrows. He wasn’t paying attention. When he walked in with a big grin on his face an hour ago, Foggy cheekily asked him how lunch was, and Matt only replied with, “Satisfying.”
He wants to keep you to himself. You shouldn’t become subject to his friend’s desperate need to find Matt’s one true love. Foggy doesn’t know you. It was one date that might not even go anywhere, not if Matt keeps sabotaging himself. You deserve better. He knows that. You deserve someone who treats you like the goddess you are; someone who doesn’t lie to you and can give you what you need. He isn’t sure if he can be that person. The last thing he wants is to hurt you.
“Sorry?” Matt tilts his head away from the window. The city is particularly loud this afternoon.
“Your doctor friend,” Foggy clarifies. “Your lunch date.” The grin in his voice is audible. A teasing grin. “She’s got you whipped.”
“Oh, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His fingers start sliding over the documents in front of him, a breathless chuckle passing from his lips.
He cocks an eyebrow. “Mhm. Is that why you’re blushing?”
“I don’t blush,” Matt counters. Though he can’t deny that the blood rushes to his cheeks whenever he thinks of you. The way you smell. The way your heartbeat sounds in his ears. It is addictive. You are addictive—a drug—and that makes the guilt grow larger than life because as bad as he is for you, he knows staying away from you is a losing game.
“Sure,” says Foggy. He doesn’t believe him, not one bit. “Do I need to dust off the old tux? You know, I’d make a dashing best man.”
Matt forces a chuckle. “It was just coffee.”
“It always starts with just coffee. Before you know it, you’re having dinner, and then you’re taking her to bed before asking her to marry you.”
He throws his head back, groaning in pure exasperation. The chair creaks. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he says. “We had coffee, she walked me back to the office, and that’s it. No time for a tux yet. If you really wanna wear it, attend a ball or something.”
“Okay, first of all, she walked you back to the office?!” Foggy opens his arms. “That’s not a small thing, Matt. Only someone who wants to spend time with you walks you back to the office on her day off.”
Matt rolls his eyes behind his glasses. He would much rather continue marinating in his self-misery than fantasize about things that may not ever happen. It hurts too much. What he wants and what he believes he can have are at war.
“And second of all, Foggy says, “we’re living in the twenty-first century; balls are not a regular occurrence anymore, and I don’t have friends in higher places that could get me into one.”
Sensing an opportunity, Matt’s lips curl into a smirk. “You could ask Marci. Landman & Zack sometimes attend banquets, you know that.”
Foggy seems taken aback for a second. His heartbeat stutters. “Why Marci?” the panic in his voice is hilarious, in a way.
“Oh, so you can tease me about my relationships,” Matt retorts, “but I can’t tease you about your ex?”
“That’s different, okay?”
“Oh, how’s that different?”
“Your potential future girlfriend and my ex who is working for the same million-dollar law firm we left behind to chase the dream of independence are two different things that do not correlate!”
He’s speechless. Matt repeats his friend’s words in his mind a few times before he admits, “Yeah, no, I can’t… I can’t argue with that.”
Foggy sighs. “Thank you.”
The door to the bathroom closes, and Karen returns to her desk. Her heels click against the linoleum floors in a steady rhythm. Her steps are always light and careful. Matt could recognize them anywhere.
“Hey–” he tips his chin at the sound of Foggy’s voice again. “If things work out between you and Miss McDreamy, you won’t need a dog anymore because she can help you take out the trash.”
Karen catches that, and she laughs. “Are you comparing Matt’s girlfriend to a dog now?” she quips.
Matt is quick to cut in. “She’s not my girlfriend!” he says.
She appears in the doorway next to Foggy, placing her hands on her hips as she stands there. “Really? I thought people skipped first base and went straight to getting shared tombstones after the first date these days.”
Foggy’s laugh resembles a howl. “Can you imagine Matt sharing a tombstone with someone who holds a doctorate? People would be talking about them like, here lies Hell’s Kitchen’s greatest trauma surgeon…and Matt Murdock.”
Her fist collides with his shoulder, but she can’t stop herself from laughing regardless. Matt sighs. “Very funny,” he deadpans. It’s not that he can’t take a joke; he’s simply not in the mood for it right now.
The letters blur under his fingers. His jaw clenches when a car backfires somewhere down the block, and someone else honks four times in a row before yelling at a passerby to get out of his way.
“Seriously,” Foggy asks, “What do you have against dogs?”
“I think dogs are great,” says Karen.
“I don’t need a dog,” Matt states. He tries to regulate his breathing, tearing his focus away from the noise that surrounds him. “And I don’t need anyone to help me take out the trash. Not a dog and certainly not a girlfriend.” He chuckles forcedly at the last part.
Imagining you helping him do the things that are supposed to be easy makes him recoil. Even with heightened senses, he is still blind. Taking out the trash is harder than it should be when he doesn’t focus, and even then he could easily miss a step. It has happened a few times before, but he would never admit it.
He can use his clumsiness as an excuse for the cuts, bumps, and bruises he suffers every night on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at the hands of criminals, but if he were to take a tumble down or up the stairs again, he would have to find a different excuse. There is nothing bad about needing help—about just not being able to do certain things—but Matt has never been good at accepting help, let alone asking for it.
A knock on the door interrupts the conversation. Matt raises his eyebrows. Foggy and Karen exchange a look of surprise.
The heartbeat belongs to a healthy male, but he doesn’t recognize the presence standing in front of their office door. Could it be…a client? The thought never even crossed their minds.
“Is that—” Foggy leaves the question hanging in the air.
Matt rises from his chair, pursing his lips as he nods. “Karen?” he asks.
She realizes that he is asking her to open the door, and her heart skips a beat. “Right,” she stammers. “Okay.”
He follows the two of them out of his office, his hands guiding him along the familiar space. The door clicks as it opens, and Karen nervously greets the stranger on the other side.
“Hi,” the voice says, deep with a hint of mischief he hides under the disguise of kindness.
The hairs on Matt’s arm stand up, reaching toward the sky. His stomach drops. Something shifts in the air when he smells the expensive cologne and the laundry detergent on the man’s suit. He carries himself with a kind of confidence that puts everyone around him in his shadow, and that is terrifying.
Matt instantly knows that they should not trust him.
The man passes the threshold and steps into their office, his eyes trailing around. Karen takes a step back. Foggy straightens his shoulders. He must look as intimidating as he sounds and smells. A rich man who radiates power like a bonfire.
“Do you take walk-ins?” he asks then.
Matt can feel Foggy’s eyes on him. He shrugs, his reaction barely visible. If he said no, he wouldn’t know how to explain it to them.
In hindsight, they should have kept the door closed.
He doesn’t tell them his name, he only hands them a check and tells them that he works for an independent contractor. Judging by Foggy’s reaction, the numbers on the check are higher than any of them are used to. But all of this money for a surprise at the police station?
If he hadn’t found him suspicious before, the alarms are certainly blaring now. Foggy is blinded by the money, and Karen seems torn, but Matt knows that they shouldn’t trust this man. Especially not for blood money.
He follows him out, only enough space between them so he won’t be caught. The stranger gets into a car, and he starts to realize that this man might be caught up in more than he thought.
The lines between the lawyer and the devil start to blur. Matt reaches into his suit jacket. The pain in his rib cage burns slowly through his flesh as the skin parts. His shirt is drenched in a deep maroon where the Russians drilled a knife into him a few nights ago. The blood coats his fingertips, that’s how he knows.
He has no choice. He and Foggy need to take the case they were presented with. If he wants to understand what’s happening, he needs to dive into the cold water. He needs to make a decision he despises with his whole being. It pains him physically to even think about doing it, but clearly, he has no other choice. He’s backed into a corner.
When he returns from the precinct that night with a guilty client demanding a jury trial and a check with money from a stranger he still doesn’t know the name of and that he told Karen not to deposit, the silence brings along an unbearable weight on his shoulders.
Stress can lead any addict into a relapse. The phone line rings. Matt sent Foggy and Karen home, telling them that they should rather recoup in the morning when they’re all rested. It has been a long day. His friends only hesitantly left him behind after he had to promise to call it a night soon. An hour later, he’s still sitting at his desk. The city is calling for him, but he can’t bring himself to move. Instead of going home, instead of going out, he is now looking for a fix—after telling himself all afternoon that it would be for the best if he didn’t because you deserve better.
“This is Dr. Clarke, who am I speaking with?” you answer.
His veins open to a release of dopamine. He relaxes into his chair. He could listen to you talk forever and never grow tired of the sound of your voice.
“Hello?” you ask again.
Matt clears his throat. “Um, hi,” he says. “It’s–it’s me. Matthew.”
“Matt! Hi. Hold on a second.” You’re not alone. Voices overlap in the background, and your clothes rustle as you try to find a quiet spot to hide.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No! No, not at all. I’m at the ER. Working, I mean,” you clarify, and the way you stumble over your words is so endearing to him. “MVC downtown. They needed all hands on deck, so I came in. It was a fucking mess.”
Your voice is laced with exhaustion, but you don’t sound too stressed, so he figures that the worst must be over. It’s like part of him knew to get his fix now. Not earlier or later but now. Your heartbeat is faint through the speaker.
“I, uh, didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“You want me to hang up?” Matt asks.
“No.” He can hear you smirk. “Just wondering if you missed me.”
He leans forward on his elbows. “What if I did?”
Maybe if he thinks really hard, he can imagine you standing in front of him instead of miles away.
“I’d tell you I missed you too,” you murmur. “But only if you admit it first.”
“In that case, I’m saying it. I missed you,” he says.
“Good, ‘cause I missed you too.”
He fidgets with the brim of his glasses. They’re resting on his desk, his hazel eyes unfocused yet directed toward the empty space before him.
It’s a curse how enigmatic you are. You’re a magnet, similar yet the polar opposite of him, and it involuntarily draws him closer to you. Matt feels a strange flutter in his heart whenever he is near you. Even now, over the phone, the butterflies betray him. Rationally, this is a bad idea. Rationally, he should hang up. Right now though, rationality has no place in his mind.
He can’t lie; he did miss you. But that isn’t entirely the reason why he called you.
His tired eyes flutter shut. The sound of your breathing in his ear wraps around him like a gentle embrace. “How’re you holding up?” he dares to ask.
“My feet hurt, my head hurts, and I’m starving. Other than that, I’m okay,” you say. “How’s it going with you? It’s pretty late for you to be calling, isn’t it?”
“Depends on how you look at it.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass.”
He laughs. “Sorry.”
You seem to relish in the sound for a moment. His laughter dies down, and with it, your smile fades. “What’s really going on?” you ask.
Matt can’t keep anything from you. You’re perceptive, even more so than him.
“We caught a case today,” he says. “A bad one.”
“Oh.”
He imagines that your features soften with the sound of your voice. If he could get his hands on your face, he could paint a picture of what you look like, but you’re too far away, and he shouldn’t touch something he is sure he will break if he does.
You break through the fog, trying to rescue him from his mind. “Wanna talk about it?” you offer, but it’s useless.
“I wish I could, but I’d be breaking attorney-client confidentiality.”
“Ah, Lawyer Version HIPAA. I see.”
He pats the file he and Foggy took back with them after meeting with Healy, a clear account of the events that conspired at the bowling alley.
After going blind, his mind has grown increasingly more animate. When he thinks about what might have happened—what their client might have done—he can smell the copper of the other man’s blood in the air, the stench of sweat stuck to the inside of bowling shoes, and the substance they use to oil the bowling balls. He can smell plastic and junk food, and the linoleum of the floorboards. The way he sees it, their client is guilty, and even he knows it, but to understand what is happening around them, Matt needed to take the bait when it was presented to them.
Matt runs a hand over the stubble on his chin. “You could answer a question for me though,” he swiftly changes the subject.
You answer without missing a beat, “Shoot.”
“How much force would it take to crush a human skull with a bowling ball?”
His question renders you speechless. For a brief moment, he only hears the steady thudding of your heartbeat against your ribcage, and a soft smile finds its way on his lips. You’re smart, and you’re witty, but when it comes to him, you tend to lose control of the steering wheel.
He threw a bowling ball right at the pins you meticulously sorted in your mind, dispersing them. Now, you’re grappling with the words on your tongue.
“A bowling ball,” you repeat. “I’m sorry, what?”
You seem to shiver again when he chuckles. “I need your expert medical opinion,” Matt states. “Off the record, of course.”
“On how to crush a human skull with a bowling ball?”
“Not really the how but the kinda force it requires.”.
“Well,” you try to gather yourself, “I didn’t exactly study the physics of smashing a human skull with a bowling ball. They don’t cover that in med school.”
“Not even physics?” he questions.
“To a certain extent. I don’t remember that much…”
He senses a conjunction. “But?”
“Based on bike-helmet studies, it takes between 520 to 1,100 pounds,” you tell him. “That’s roughly twice as much as human hands can muster. Add to that the weight of a bowling ball, which takes away human force but adds artificial weight in the form of a foreign object to the skull, the person doing the beating would have to hit quite a few times to actually crush it.”
“So a 5’10” man of average build–” Matt prompts.
You shrug, your scrubs brushing against the speaker of your phone. “If his testosterone and adrenaline were high enough, it could have taken him a few seconds, especially if there were no signs of hesitation, but that’s just a technical assumption. In practicality, a lot of factors play into how long it takes to break the bone.”
“Could it have been self-defense?”
“If you want my opinion, it requires a lot of strength to do that kind of damage, which means it is more likely for it to have been a premeditated crime or a very sick person in a bloodthirsty rage. But that’s not my area of expertise,” you add.
“I know,” Matt assures you. He exhales. The answer isn’t completely useless, but it hardly solves anything either. “Thank you, anyway,” he says.
“Anything to help make sure justice is served.” You’re smiling again.
A scoff rumbles through his chest. “I wish it were that easy.”
“You sound a bit…sad,” you point out.
“It’s—I don’t know, it’s complicated. I don’t want to be a bother.”
You cut him off, “You’re not a bother.”
“Liv,” he says, your name a mere breath rolling off his tongue.
If he told you that he’s not sad, he’s miserable, but not because of the case; he’s miserable because of how much he wants you—how much he needs you—and he is lying to you, so his thoughts are eating him alive like little demons, and it is them in a bloodthirsty rage, not the man who crushed another man’s skull with a bowling ball. He can’t tell you that he feels as though God is out to get him. Even a sliver of the truth could hurt you, and he refuses to put you in that position.
But then you put him on the spot again, without even realizing it, and he has no other choice but to cave.
“I may not be a psychiatrist, but I’ve been told that I have a very good shoulder to cry on,” you say. “Maybe we could grab dinner on Friday and you can, um, decide for yourself?”
That is mighty bold of you.
Matt processes your offer slower than an old, used car would drive on the highway. “Dinner?” he stammers.
“Dinner,” you agree.
He has two options: go for it or say no. He has to be honest with himself though; he can’t deny you anything.
His mouth opens and closes before he finally answers, “Dinner sounds good, yeah.”
“Alright,” you sound surprised yourself. “Dinner then!”
He smiles, but the decision leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. “Dinner then.”
“Maybe you should put down the gravel now and go home.”
“If you promise to put down the stethoscope and the scalpel and do the same.”
“Yes, sir.” You start moving on the other end of the line. “I’m already on my way to the locker room.”
Matt doesn’t intend to say it, but it slips his lips anyway. “Good girl,” he says.
He doesn’t have to be near you to be painfully aware of your reaction. You freeze, and with you, the blood in your veins. Your brain backfires when it tries to form a coherent train of thought, and it is loud enough for Matt to hear.
A few seconds tick by without as much as a breath from you. “Okay,” you murmur, breaking the loaded silence. You’re trying to gather your bearings and make sense of the shift in the atmosphere.
He wishes he could melt into the ground. Taking it back won’t work. He already said it. But there is nothing wrong with calling you a good girl, right? It is the truth.
To him, you are good. Beautiful, even. And you are more than anything he could have ever asked for. You’re ethereal. You deserve to know that, but he is starting to think that you may have misinterpreted his intentions.
“I didn’t mean–” he begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.
“I know,” you say.
You clear your throat, though Matt doesn’t miss the slight edge to your voice. It’s not nerves, per se. Your voice is thick with something else, and it sends a shiver down the sensitive skin of his spine.
Do you wish he meant it the way your mind made you believe he did?
His fingers dig into the edge of his worn-down wooden desk. “So, I’ll, uh, see you Friday?” he asks, his voice hovering just barely above a hopeful whisper.
Can you hear how hard he is trying not to sound too sultry? Are you aware of what you are doing to him, even though it is a bad idea for him to even be close to you? You make him want to claw up the walls of his office and eat them. It’s scary, the things he would do for you—to you—but at the same time it fills him with intense exhilaration.
You swallow. Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “Friday, yes. I’m, uh, looking forward to seeing you again,” you reply.
If he could only take your voice and imprint it on his mind for all eternity, he would do so without hesitation.
The wood starts to splinter under his fingernails. “Me too.” Matt withdraws his hand.
You bid him goodnight, and that is the last thing you say to him before you hang up.
Silence engulfs him. The prospect of seeing you again settles over him like a warm blanket, but it only lasts for a few minutes before the comfort disappears, and he is left freezing again. Without you. Alone.
Matt tries to tell himself that Friday will be the last time, but that night, he finds himself on the rooftop across Metro General, black fabric dangling from his hand as he listens to the distinctive sound of your footsteps exiting the emergency room. You say good night to the nurses, wishing them a peaceful rest of their shift, and then you’re heading out to catch your Uber.
You took a shower, he can smell it. And you changed your scrubs for the same outfit you wore when you met this afternoon. He follows you with a tilt of his head until you’re safely inside the car, and once he’s sure that the night won’t catch up with you, he pulls the mask over his head.
He told himself Friday would be the last time, but as long as the streets aren’t safe, he can’t stay away from you. It is an awful excuse to keep lying to you, he is well aware of that, but you have drawn him in like like no other, and he would be damned if he let you go.
Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred @echo-ethe
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock angst#matt murdock fluff#daredevil#daredevil x reader#reader insert#charlie cox#do no harm
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The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹
Chapter 4
Linked Universe x reader
Warnings: Mentions of mental health and depression, angst, fluff
₊˚✩⊹
Two days have passed since you left Castle Town, you and the chain just crossing the threshold of Hyrule Field, but not quite in Gerudo Valley.
The terrain was still slightly grassy, though the grass itself was yellowing, the land being very dry. The sun has long set, so you anticipated settling down soon, as you could feel the energy shift that has happened in the past couple days. Everyone was tired.
“Let’s setup camp under that large tree. Wild, why don’t you and the traveler start setting up dinner. The Captain and I can do a quick scout to see any possible encampments near us or any danger we need to be aware of. We should be back before dinner.” Time announced, motioning Wars to follow him.
You asked around the group seeing if there was anything you could assist with, but no one seemed to need anything for the moment. With a sigh, you propped yourself up against the tree and opened up the book Shad gave you. You might as well be productive.
Flipping through the book, there wasn’t much that related to your quest. Sure, some interesting tidbits about Hylian history and wars, but nothing of note. You halted your flipping at the page labeled: Other Worldly History: Ancient Runes and Magic.
Bingo.
Hyrule has been known to be a connection between various cultures, nations, and worlds. From the beginning, Hyrule contained loopholes and magic that could alter worlds, change the flow of time, and access completely disconnected dimensions. Nobody has successfully accessed said dimensions, but there are plenty of theories and magical concepts that support the possibility of accessing them.
A particular religious group, according to rumors and first-person accounts, have been seen performing rituals and dark magic that provides a window to a dimension. Though the group itself has no name or distinguishable faces or names, a few colleagues have been able to record the rituals and notes on how their procedures work.
You continued skimming the page, the author noting the black garb that the members wore and possible translations of the language. Everything was up in the air though. Flipping the page, you notice that there are diagrams on how the rituals are performed and how you could access “Hylia’s Mirror” through a very complex and specific execution of moments and chants.
The ritual began with placing your palms on the ground, or as the book liked to call it: “Connecting to Hylia’s body”. Weird.
You closed your eyes and lifted your palms, pointing out two fingers and drawing a large triangle around you, all sides and angles congruent.
You opened your eyes and tried to follow along with the specified hand signals, but you messed up halfway through. This was gonna be harder than you thought.
The smell of dinner was tantalizing, so you shut the book and placed it in your pack, deciding to play wizard again later once you've eaten. You don’t think you’ve eaten since you left Castle Town, as you all didn’t really stop walking unless taking a few hours to sleep.
You plopped down beside Four, leaning against him. He was sharpening one of his shorter blades, no doubt it being overused the past few weeks in close combat.
“Saw you playing wizard over there. Anything helpful?” he asked, eyes not leaving the blade.
You hummed. “Some dark magic stuff, lotta weird shit. I was too hungry to actually understand anything,” you said, looking at how Four’s fingers held the blade and handled it.
“I would help you, but I'm considered useless in the reading aspect. Can barely read signs if I'm honest. Only know the basics.” he said, stopping his sharpening and placing the blade back into its holster.
You were about to mention something about his comment when Wild called out to dinner, just in time for Wars and Time to return.
“Y/n over ‘ere was being magical and doing magic spells,” Twilight chuckled, gesturing at you “Chantin’ some gibberish, I tell ya.” he laughed, you rolling your eyes in response.
“Yeah, yeah. Mock all you want, but at least I’m getting somewhere. I think?” you paused.
“We can leave the demonology till later, let’s eat. I know you guys are starving, and I made heaps of food for tonight.” Wild smiled, handing out bowls to everyone. Does he carry a whole fucking kitchen on him?
~
“Who’s game did you play first, Y/n?” Wind asked, mouthful of food.
You pondered for a second, having to recollect your memories.
“Ummmm…. I think it was Skyward Sword, so Sky’s yeah. I think I was like 8 or 9.” you said, taking in another spoonful of rice.
“I miss being a kid, at times. I remember not having to worry about anything, just when I was going to play with my friends or what flavor of cake I was going to get for my birthday. Getting older changes you, for the better or worse, I honestly don’t know.” You said, looking over at everyone.
“I feel like i’ve gotten older faster since I first joined you guys, in a sense. I can’t really explain it. I guess adventuring, or rather being a hero forces you to grow up faster…” You trail off, looking at the fire.
Time pipes up “I agree with that, as I first left the forest when I was seven. The hero’s duty seemed inevitable, regardless if I postponed it or not.”
Wind nods, “I had to leave Grandma when I was 12, to save my sister Aryll. Even when I defeated Ganondorf and returned home, it didn’t feel the same… I wasn’t a kid anymore.”
You scootch up to him, letting him lean against your side. “I know I can’t change your past, Wind, but I just want you to know that I was there with you for every step of the way. Every nick or scratch you got, I made sure you were not alone. I’ll never leave you alone, any of you, whether or not I’m physically here with you or not. You’ll always feel me with you, in here,” You point at his chest.
Wind sighs sadly, “I love you Y/n.”
You sigh in contentment, “I love you too, squirt. You’ve always been like a little brother to me.”
“Call me squirt again and I’ll shank you in your sleep~” Wind said in a sing-song voice, but you knew he held no malice. You just chuckled at his “threat”.
“It’s so strange to me how we all felt you there with us, Y/n. Even if we didn’t hear you most of the time, you always gave us warmth.” Wild said.
“You guys gave me warmth too, and were there for me in my darkest days. Even just accompanying you for a few hours a day made me feel less alone,” you looked Wild “Even when I felt abandoned, I know you guys wouldn’t leave me.”
“13-year-old me would be so happy if she knew she was talking to her favorite heroes. She needed that. I needed that.” you said, combing through Wind’s sandy hair.
Legend frowned at your comment.
By the implication of your tone and words, it seems like your early teens weren’t joyful or memorable. You needed them. You needed him. He wished he could’ve heard you back then. It seemed like some of the others could hear you better during their journey, but he only heard you a few times. And from what he remembers, most of them weren’t happy.
He was also one of the last members of the group to recognize you. He only remembered you about 4 or so months ago. His past had clouded him and his mind, leaving him as leftovers.
Leftovers of Hylia’s game. He hated that damned goddess. A fraud. A parasite across each and every era. He had nothing to thank her for. Nothing besides… you. Simple, yet irreplaceable you. Millions of people had seen his quest and lead him through it, but you were an outlier. A special one. His guide.
Marin was a memory at this point. Not even a dream, like he thought she was. She was a distraction… a replacement. A replacement for you. Kind, smart, perfect you.
₊˚✩⊹
#link x reader#yandere linked universe#yandere linked universe x reader#linked universe x reader#linked universe au
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Writing Masterlist:
‼️🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞‼️
This blog is 18+ as I write explicit material (unmarked fics are SFW gen/teen). Most of my work is on my Ao3.
If you have a prompt for me, throw it into my ask box! But please read my writing request rules first! Requests: OPEN!
Please note all my works are contained in their own, unconnected verses unless stated otherwise. I'm pro-minding-your-business. Do not bring me drama. I’m too old for that shit.
‼️(This masterlist is always being updated please DO NOT reblog!)‼️
Main Devil!Terzo verse: Follows an AU in which Terzo is Lucifer (The Devil) incarnate. (fic references: Basic layout of Copia's apartment ⛧ Copia's rats ⛧ Some amazing fanart for this story: here, here, here, here (more spicy ones by delulluart can be found on the fic!)
⛧ You Will Never Walk Alone Chapters 14/? (Ao3 only, Devil!Terzo x Copia, Current ongoing WIP, 17+ chapters, please read the tags & triggers!) E/18+
Semi-verse Related Oneshots: Some self-indulgent slice of life stuff for my main AU.
⛧ The Devil's Treasure (Ao3 only, 3.9k words, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, soft dom devil!terzo, bathing/washing, praise kink, devil!terzo taking care of copia during a thunderstorm) E/18+
⛧ The Devil's Claim (Ao3 only, 5k words, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, very low-stakes jealousy, angst & fluff, they work it out in the end) E/18+
⛧ The Devil's Whore (Ao3 only, 2.3k words, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, playful flirting, desperation, a touch of voyeurism) E/18+
⛧ The Devil's Heart (Ao3 only, 2.9k words, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, follow on from the devil's whore, praise kink, love-making, tenderness) E/18+
Ficlets:
⛧ Reassurences (also on Ao3, 498 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, SFW from fluffy dialogue prompts, very short and sweet, seriously my teeth hurt, anxiety disorder, heavy on the tenderness, pillow talk)
⛧ Devil On Your Back (also on Ao3, 575 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, sexual content, soft and sweet, love-making, soft dom devil!terzo, body worship, handjobs, praise kink, copia is #stressed, lucifer gives him a hand and his dick) E/18+
Drabbles:
⛧The Devil's Kisses (1.1k words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, from send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss, copia suffers from migraines, a lot of softness here, very soft and sweet, sexual content, playful flirting, teasing, oral, love-making, lots of forehead and temple kisses, truly those are my weakness, grief & loss of a pet at the end, minor death if that bothers you, but it's not described in detail) E/18+
Devilish Requests: Mainly featuring Devil!Terzo x Copia or Devil!Terzo x Omega.
⛧ Blinded (Ao3 only, 1.2k words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, dom devil!terzo, light bondage, edging, blindfolds) E/18+
⛧ Let Me Hear You (Ao3 only, 886 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, soft dom, voice kink, handjobs) E/18+
⛧ After (Ao3 only, 740 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, aftercare, bodyworship, tenderness, subspace, follows on from Blinded, aftermath of smut) M
⛧ Stress Relief (Ao3 only, 997 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, rough oral, breathplay) E/18+
⛧ In The Quiet (Ao3 only, 944 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, mild NSFW, MDNI, anxiety, tenderness, light angst, pillow talk) M
⛧ Devil In A Dress (Ao3 only, 1.5k words, Devil!Terzo x Omega, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, dom/sub, rough oral, smut inspired by van's art) E/18+
Oneshots:
⛧ A Little Mercy (also on Ao3, 1.4k words, Terzo x Copia, NSFW, MDNI, SMUT, sexual content, soft dom terzo, body worship, light-bondage, oral, teasing, blindfolds, edging) E/18+
Drabbles:
⛧ Breathe With Me (1.5k words, Terzo x f!reader, SFW, only mild nsfw i guess since naked cuddling happens, anxious reader, soft terzo, co-regulation, breathing techniques, no beta we die like sister imperator.)
⛧ Scars and Stretchmarks (1.5k words, Terzo x Copia, mild NSFW, MDNI, from send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss, soft dom terzo, very soft and sweet because I can't not make everything a little sweet, mild sexual content, teasing, stretchmarks, insecurities, guilt & grief, copia needs a hug, anxiety disorder, sort of a panic attack if that triggers you) M
Oneshots:
⛧ Failed Date (also on Ao3, 1.6k words, Cardinal Copia x gn!reader, SFW, very little description to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, soft copia, failed date, sweet ending, just all around very soft and fluffy)
Drabbles:
⛧ Relaxing Night With Copia (??? words (idk im so tired lmao), Copia x gn!reader, SFW, soft copia, pastina!, reader and copia are as exhausted as I am right now, a lot of softness it’s killing me, tired idiots in love, bullet point format.)
Ficlets:
⛧ Lazy Sunday Gaming (639 words, Copia x gn!reader, soft and sleepy gaming session with Copia, cuddling and snuggling, short and sweet, I wrote this on my phone on a sunday morning when i was half asleep please enjoy <3)
Oneshots:
⛧ I Will Hold You For The Minute (also on Ao3 1.1k words, Copia x gn!reader, SFW, soft and angsty, idk i have too many feelings right now, ghovie related, Copia stresses a lot, lots of kisses, sweetness, that new fit oh my fucking satan its so hot, no beta.)
Drabbles:
⛧ Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader (also on Ao3, 2k words, Papas x gn!reader, SFW, bullet-pointed format, mentions of hospitals, needles (only mentioned), mention of general anaesthetic, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, lots of sweetness, you're getting pampered, no beta we die like nihil!)
🜏 ⛧ 🜏
Misc Stuff:
My Art Tag ⛧ My Gifs Tag ⛧ Blog dividers used set 1 & set 2 ⛧ Moving graphics can be found here ⛧
#updated list#alternate universes#ghost#the band ghost#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#terzo#papa emeritus iii#devil terzo tag#terzomega#terzo x omega#papa emeritus iv x reader#cardinal copia x reader#x reader#papa emeritus i#primo#papa emeritus i x reader#primo x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii#secondo#secondo x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iii x cardinal copia#gender neutral reader#canon x canon#frater imperator#brother imperator#copiiia
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Resonance (Jiyan x Fem!Reader x Calcharo) [Chapter 1 : Drained]
How long has he been awake?
Jiyan wasn't entirely sure. The days had started to blend into one another after the most recent set of battles, with Tacet Discord outbreaks happening more and more frequently. Every day was another day of fighting, of trying his hardest to make sure every one of his fellow Rangers made it through the day and had another day where they might be able to get home.
...Some days though, even his best efforts were for nothing.
This was one of those days.
He fought fiercely, trying to keep the majority of the TD away from his subordinates. But one of them - a brave, foolish soul who had seen an enemy approaching Jiyan's back - had tried to intervene.
Jiyan didn't notice until he'd heard the choked cry behind his back. But when he'd turned back and saw them crumple, eyes blank...he lost his head a bit.
The next thing he was aware of, the TD were gone, and his subordinates were staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. His Tacet Mark was throbbing, and he was dimly aware of the way his entire body shook with an energy he needed to contain.
"Go back to camp." He'd ordered, all of them scrambling at the chance to return to camp, to rest and try to forget the image of Jiyan's rampage that he was sure was imprinted in their eyes. And Jiyan...had stayed in the valley, channeling the excess energy thrumming under his skin into killing even the smallest TD that crossed his path.
Now he was trudging back to his tent - exhausted, heart-sore, and numb. But upon entering his tent, he stilled, eyes immediately locking onto yours sitting on the edge of his bed.
"...Hey.." Jiyan greeted politely, his voice tired but courteous. "What brings you to my quarters?"
"I heard about what happened." you said, your tone was sad yet filled with understanding. Despite your gloomy demeanor, you were keenly aware of the struggles Jiyan faced each day and the toll it was taking on him. Although you had known each other since childhood, the word "best friend" was never explicitly mentioned between the two of you. However, the undeniable bond you shared spoke volumes beyond mere words. Both of you grew up side by side, chasing dreams together. After graduating from the Military Academy a decade ago, you rarely had the chance to see each other, unless under special circumstances.
As Jiyan ascended to the role of General, leading thousands of soldiers under his command, you became the Secretary Of Justice in Huang Long. You administer the government's criminal justice system by investigating crimes, prosecuting offenders and overseeing the correctional system. A position you earned through your undeniable intellect.
Upon noticing your melancholic behavior, Jiyan immediately sensed that something was amiss. He has always known you as a cheerful and carefree woman, who maintains an optimistic outlook on everything. It was unusual for him to see you behaving so strangely, as if you were miserable. However, Jiyan refrained from pressing you for details, knowing that your poorly-lit behavior may be related to your job, Jiyan acknowledged that the workings within the Department of Justice are private matters that he needs to respect.
"It was our first casualty this year, and I- I'm not sure I handled it well..." His voice was heavy, as he slowly came to sit in front ofyou. He could feel his chest tightening, and he looked away. "I don't know if I'm fit to lead them. Losing a soldier under my watch, I felt... I felt like..." He shook his head.
You could see through every barrier, every lie he tried to bury himself within. He didn't try to hide it from you. He brought his hands up, his broad-fingered hands gripping his own Tacet Mark. He closed his eyes, "All I did was wield them as weapons." His breathing sped up, and Jiyan slowly opened his eyes. "I want to do better...for them, for the Rangers..For Huang Long.." His body ached all over, and he welcomed the touch of another's hand on him, a touch that was not healing but comforting. Jiyan needed it, now more than ever.
"Jiyan." you said, gently placing your hand above his. Your previously unhappy demeanor had faded. "The first rule of leadership is to save yourself for the big decision. Don't let your mind get cluttered. I know you're always doing your best for Huang Long. Whatever you do, don't lose yourself in the process. I hope you would care enough for yourself to know that you deserve to receive as much as you give." Your gentle smile reassured Jiyan, conveying a sense of comfort and hope with just that simple gesture.
Jiyan inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, and leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulders. His breathing seemed to steady, his heart slowing, and he whispered, "Thank you, Y/N..."
He wasn't sure how long it took for him to feel the world slowly coming back into focus. But when Jiyan finally pulled back, he was a bit steadier, eyebrow furrowing as he glanced at the map that was folded on his table.
"I know we should call it a day, but...Tacet Discord activity is off the charts...I need to at least examine the map, make sure the strategic points are still secured..." He admitted. "And that we have enough reserve forces to rotate out. My mind won't rest until it's done, and besides..." Jiyan frowned, "I have to appear in control, or else the rest of the Rangers will lose heart. And I need to, I need to manage, I can't-" He stopped, fingers tightening around his hilt. "Just...give me a moment, and then I promise that I'll rest." He didn't want to overwork himself, but it was their lives at stake. He couldn't afford to let them down.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked. Having previously been a member of the Military Defense Team under General Geshu Lin's command, your expertise and experience were invaluable.
Jiyan opened the map and spread it flat on the table. He took in the details, lips pursed in thought, as he mentally compared the map with the TD activity the Resonators had reported. It was a never-ending task, protecting the borders of Huang Long. Jiyan turned back to you, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You could give me your unbiased opinion, like always. Keep me from potentially running myself into the ground."
"You can look over my records, reports, and see if there's any new information on the Tacet Discord's movements, that'd help a lot." He gestured towards the papers on the table. "I don't trust every piece of information at face value. A second set of eyes can't hurt. With that, Jiyan returned to his map, eyes scanning the depiction of Jinzhou and its surroundings. His fingers continued to lightly trace lines in the map, considering different strategies to deal with the outbreaks. Jiyan's carefully constructed calm shattered for a moment when he noticed a freshly marked TD hotspot. "Damn..." He muttered, going back to the reports. Your presence, however, did help, and Jiyan's eyes flickered over to you. He wasn't sure if you would pick up on it, but Jiyan couldn't help the relief of having someone else to share the burden with.
"General. It's important that we pinpoint these areas, especially since the City Guards are stretched too thin as it is." You suggested as you attentively observed the placement of the TD marks on the area. As both of you analyzed the map, Jiyan found himself relaxing a bit more. He'd always admired your sharp mind, and while you spoke, he found himself absentmindedly staring at you. "So, General, what do you think about my plan?" you abruptly asked, shifting your gaze towards him, which snapped him out of his trance.. Jiyan's cheeks warmed in embarrassment and he hastily looked away. He glanced back at the map, a frown creasing his features. "That's a solid plan. We need to move the Rearguard into sectors with the highest Tacet Discords. Some soldiers seems to have reported multiple sightings of TD moving in a particular formation, I want to explore that." Jiyan's voice trailed off in thought as he watched your expressions. "Though it'll be chaotic, but we can make a dent into some of these hotspots...There are some reinforcements camped out a bit south-east. I'll have to consider rotating these additional soldiers in...and perhaps get some fresh supplies to the current Rangers." Jiyan stretched his arms, eyes squinting a bit. "Once we do that, and the replacements are settled in, I think I'll be able to relax." It was said lightly, but Jiyan was acutely aware of how heavy his eyelids were. He glanced back at you, his eyes softened appreciatively. "Your input has helped ease the weight. I'm grateful for it, truly."
"Ha! Admit it, I'm better than you." you teased with a smirk, your arms crossed over your chest as you chuckled.
"Not a chance." The General replied with a light laugh, shaking his head in disagreement.
Jiyan stood, stretching his back to alleviate some of the muscle pains that had settled after his recent battle. He'd need the sleep, but he grabbed a small box from his desk, rummaged through it, drawing a tea bag to the table. "Tea?"
"Absolutely." You replied with a warm smile.
And the rest of the night was filled with conversations that brought smiles to your faces.
[2 hours later...]
"Thank you, General. I had fun!" With midnight approaching, you knew that Jiyan needed to rest.
"Hey, would you mind if I visit you in Jinzhou the day after tomorrow?" Jiyan inquired, hoping for you to say yes. It had been a while since he had a normal conversation with you, and he honestly missed those times when he could just be himself. Not as a soldier, not as a general, but simply as Jiyan.
"Of course." You both value and respect each other's work schedules. You and Jiyan acknowledged that both of you couldn't spend as much time together as you used to when you were younger.
"Anyway, I should head off. It's getting late, and you can't hide that tired look of yours anymore." you chuckled, pinching the General's cheek. "Hey, cut it out!" he playfully pushed your hand away, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that you still teased him like the short and shy boy he once was.
In return, Jiyan tousled your hair as he wrapped his arm around your neck, restraining your movements.
"Alright! Alright! You win!" you surrendered, dropping your arms in defeat. Jiyan was now too tall for you to reach. "What's that?" Jiyan teased. He seldom heard you admit defeat, so hearing you say this was like music to his ears. You couldn't help but just roll your eyes at him as you freed yourself from his arm.
"Would you like me to accompany you back to Jinzhou?" He was concerned about you returning late at night with only a few soldiers escorting you.
"No need. I can take care of myself." you replied confidently. There was no need for you to prove yourself, as you were also known for mastering the element of fusion and handling it like a crazy maniac. However, at times, your overconfidence can lead to distractions, which is one of your downfalls.
"Oy, you keep forgetting the huge gap in our strength. You can't rely on going into a rampage to defend yourself. It's not the best approach." Jiyan remarked, aware of your occasional recklessness.
"Whatever you say, General." you sighed, rising from your seat. "Stubborn as always." Jiyan mumbled quietly as he escorted you out of his quarters.
"Goodnight, General." you bid farewell as you closed the door behind you. "Until then, Madam Secretary." Jiyan headed back to his bed, the slow exhaustion catching up with him. His armor had been stripped to reveal his elegantly toned body, sleek and unfaltering. He'd need to rest, he'd need to heal, just a bit more. He started to undress, shelving his armor. Jiyan laid down, the weight of the day finally catching up with him, and the soft snores filled the room sometime later. He was finally drowning in the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
End Of Chapter 1 🥀...
Who would you choose in a world where love and duty collided, and where the heart's desires clashed with the demands of fate? The unspoken love of Jiyan, who has known you since childhood, or the fiery passion that Calcharo harbors for you, despite the shadows of his past?
#wuthering waves#Wuwa#wuwa fanfic#wuwa x you#wuwa x reader#wuwa jiyan#wuwa calcharo#wuwa smut#wuwa romance#wuwa violence#fanfiction
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With the release of chapter 138 of the manhwa, we got to see the first attempt at brainwash up close, and also how Penelope’s suspicions cement themselves as true. Time for another chapter analysis and theory-crafting session RAAAAH 🦅🦅 (be mindful that it contains spoilers!)
We’ve seen before how Penelope had this idea that the Laila was Ivonne, and it appears that she’s becoming more and more convinced of it.
Penelope is very much creeped out by this, and also doesn’t feel inclined to interact with ‘Ivonne’ more than necessary since this signals the ending of hard mode approach. Though that does not stop ‘Ivonne’ from trying to get close to her…or better yet, to play victim whenever Penelope’s around, to try and make it pass off as Penelope’s doing, with fake tears and everything.
After a conversation, which Penelope cuts short (understandable), ‘Ivonne’ tries to follow her but trips and falls. To someone else it might look like Penelope might’ve done it (that is exactly what ‘Ivonne’ aims at).
Penelope catches her mid-fall, and notices with dread for the second time that ‘Ivonne’ is unnaturally cold, just as you’d expect a corpse to be.
This is the part where Penelope gets overwhelmed; it hits her that this might truly not be the real Ivonne and so Penelope tells her to pretend like she doesn’t exist, she’s basically telling her to do whatever she wants because she won’t intervene with her plans.
This is where you can see how things are starting to affect Penelope mentally, but also physically as she will become increasingly thinner because she avoids meals to not be anywhere near the ‘real daughter’.
During this, Reynold comes back from training assumedly, and something interesting happens with him, something that can be seen in his eyes, basically that strange glow.
His change in demeanor is very odd, as he tells Penelope off for whatever reason, accusing her of wanting to hit Ivonne all along. It all spirals when he uses Penelope’s past against her, aka what she told him in the attic, saying that her behavior is the motive she isn’t treated as an Eckhart.
It makes something in Penelope snap, because she actually had high hopes for Reynold, but in the end she got disappointed again. Her words “You haven’t changed at all.” get Reynold out whatever trance he was in and he follows after her where he apologizes for having misunderstood. This is where the chapter ends currently.
From here the theory-crafting/speculating starts.
Some time ago, SUOL-nim made a post on her Twitter/X account where she posted this image:
This is one of those moments when you applaud the artist for their great attention for details, because if you look closely there’s a pattern going on. Both Reynold and Derrick have this pink highlight at the bottom of their eyes, but when you look at Ivonne, she has a green highlight.
I was suspicious when I first saw it, but looking at it now, it was obviously overshadowing.
We can see it more clearly here, right under her pupils where the green spots appear. It looks unnatural and artificial, almost as if it wasn’t meant to be there in the first place.
It could be related to the glow that appears in Reynold’s eyes when he is under the control of the brainwash.
I think that Reynold wasn’t supposed to break free of the brainwash here. But when he does shake off the effects of the mind control, you can see how his gaze changes from indifferent/angry, back to normal.
When there’s that unnatural glint in his pupil, his eyes look lifeless, with most of the light having been sucked away from them, and the usual pinkish highlights turn a murky grey. Even the blue’s shade looks darker and more muted.
Maybe this might be the initial stage of the brainwash? What if it changes and becomes even more evident the longer the target is under the effects of the brainwash?
Tbh I’m curious to see how the others’ eyes changes under the effects of the brainwash and how they look even while resisting it. After the greenhouse scene (which is going to be in the upcoming episodes) it is hinted that Callisto seemed to resist being brainwashed, can’t wait for that.
#el’s thoughts#el’s rants#chapter analysis#exited to see more details lol#penelope eckhart#penelope eckart#reynold eckhart#reynold eckart#ivonne eckhart#yvonne eckart#villains are destined to die#vadd#death is the only ending for a villainess#death is the only ending for the villainess
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (002. forever & always)
love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.
⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc
⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho
⤷ warnings: suggestive themes and crying
⤷ wc: 2.5k words
⤷ note: if you haven't read my message i am rewriting a few chapters so don't get confused my luvs lol
⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet @ilovebtsomgie @aylinbsx @jsprien213 @your-writer-beta-side-piece
About another ten minutes, the couple arrived at Mrs. Hwang’s apartment. Jun-ho still lives with his mother and it’s common for people in this country to live with your loved ones, despite your age. Lily didn’t find it strange because she would’ve done the same if she couldn’t afford to move out. Plus, it’s great that Jun-ho is willing to care for his mother.
He mentioned In-ho but never told Lily and his mother about what happened in 2021 or his sudden disappearance. However, Jun-ho did give stories about his brother before everything. They were all moments when they were kids. Even though they’re half-brothers, they bonded quickly like blood-related brothers. And there are times when Jun-ho misses the old In-ho.
After ringing the doorbell, an elderly woman opens it for her son and his girlfriend.
Lily smiles in delight. “Omonim!” She opens her arms and Mrs. Hwang doesn’t miss a second for a hug. “My dear! You’re beautiful as always!” She caresses the back of the younger woman’s head. “Thank you, omonim.” Lily thanked her.
As they parted, Mrs. Hwang moved her attention to Jun-ho. He goes into her arms. “Hi, omma. Thank you for the birthday wishes.” He has to bend down to embrace his tiny yet remarkable mother. She tells him, “Of course. You’re my child and I’m not too old to not remember.” Mrs. Hwang is still healthy for a woman in her sixties.
Her quips never fail to make the couple laugh. She does have some wit.
Shortly, everyone gets inside the apartment. Like a magnet, Lily zooms into the kitchen and sees the delicious home-cooked food in containers. It’s also good because she doesn’t need to make or buy meals for the rest of the week. Jun-ho is also mesmerized by his mother’s cooking.
“Wow, you outdid yourself, omma.” He commented. She pats his left arm and states. “Whenever it’s your birthday, I’ll spoil you.” Mrs. Hwang will continue to make him feel like he is the best in the world. Jun-ho chuckles and gathers the containers in the tote bag on the island. “I’ll let you know whenever I’ll be home.” He didn’t need to tell his mother because she knew he’d return. But he is still afraid of her scolding.
“Okay. Enjoy your birthday, honey.” Mrs. Hwang kisses Jun-ho’s cheek. Lily watches the moment happen and it warms her heart. Then she felt something. “Let me go use the bathroom first before we leave.” She drank four bottles of water today. It’s summer and scorching hot. Lily scurries to the bathroom like a mouse.
When she leaves the kitchen, it’s the mother and son together. Mrs. Hwang instantly asked Jun-ho. “Have you asked her yet?” She is eager to know if their family will grow bigger. Jun-ho sighs and shakes his head. “No, not yet. I wanted to do it on our second anniversary, but I wasn’t sure if her family would accept me. Especially her parents. I barely asked them last week and they welcomed me.” He confessed to his mother about his self-doubt.
She gives him a hopeful look. “Don’t be scared. I love Lily so much that I don’t want any other woman for you. If you do it tonight, call me.” Mrs. Hwang hugs her son and he takes it because he needs to calm his nerves.
The sound of footsteps approaches them. Lily sees them hugging and she patiently waits for them. Jun-ho feels her gaze and he breaks away from his mom. He makes eye contact with his beautiful angel. “Ready?” He questions and Lily nods her head.
Once again, she thanks Mrs. Hwang for the food. The couple said goodbye to her and can now have their little party. Jun-ho holds Lily’s hand as they head back to the vehicle. He takes deep breaths because he doesn’t expect to be nervous. Lily notices his touch is getting clammy. She reads Jun-ho’s body language and it concerns her.
“Are you okay?” The petite woman inquired the tall policeman.
He answers in short, “I’m good. I’m a bit exhausted but I have enough energy.” Thankfully, Lily comprehends and goes with the flow. Jun-ho is becoming a wreck, internally. It’s worse than his first day on the job.
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ
After a quick stop, it’s a relief to be back in the comforts of your home.
Once Jun-ho enters Lily’s place, he sees the decorations in the small living room. A gleeful smile plays on his face when he reads a sign on the ceiling, above the coffee table. It says, “Happy Birthday Darling.”
He also spotted colorful balloons on the floor, table, and couch. But the most prominent is the big Pochacco balloon sitting by the patio door because Jun-ho reminds Lily of the adorable Sanrio dog. Jun-ho closes and locks the door. He embraces his woman from the back to sprinkle kisses on her neck. He has been waiting all day to have intimacy.
The man hears the beauty squealing from the affection. “I take it that you love my decorations!” She was taken advantage of by his hug attack. The only side of Jun-ho that no one will ever see, except for Lily. He presses one last kiss on her neck. “You did amazing. Let’s start our night.” Jun-ho will appreciate Lily until his last breath.
He separates from her and excuses himself to put his backpack in her room. Jun-ho packed clothes, hygiene supplies, and a spare key to Lily’s apartment, in case she gets locked out or whenever he comes by. He unzips the front pocket to grab an item—a little box.
Jun-ho knows he can’t be a coward because he promises his mother and her family that he’ll take their relationship to another level. He breathes in and out to ease the tension. Jun-ho puts the little box in his pocket and goes to his girlfriend.
He leaves the room and witnesses Lily placing a heart-shaped vanilla cream cake on the dining table. It has “Happy Birthday Jun-ho” written in icing and hangul. She adds the candles and lights the wicks. Jun-ho is thirty-three. Whenever people turn thirty, they sometimes get worried because of aging anxiety. But Jun-ho is grateful to continue living. He fought for his life to wake up from a coma.
Jun-ho walks over to Lily. She hears his footsteps and perks her head. An ecstatic smile rises on her lips. Lily sings him “Happy Birthday” in Korean and Jun-ho smiles ear to ear.
“Happy birthday to Hwang Jun-ho! Happy birthday to you!”
Lily claps her hands cheerily when he blows out the candles. “Picture time! Go sit by your cake!” She runs to the island and takes her phone out of her purse. Jun-ho grins merrily and he obliges his lover’s demand. She comes back to snap hundreds of pictures. Lily once thought Jun-ho should sign up for modeling because his beauty is magnificent. She sometimes wonders how she got so lucky.
They do look like the perfect couple—almost too perfect.
“Are you done?” Jun-ho has been posing for a minute and getting a bit tired. Lily responds, “I’m done!” She sets down her phone on the table. It probably has no storage left.
Out of the blue, her boyfriend asked her. “Should I tell you what I wished for?”
Lily gives him a staggered expression. “No! It won’t come true!” She believes in the saying and he shouldn’t ruin it.
Jun-ho then pulls out the chair to stand up. “My love. I do want to tell you something, though.” He gets her full attention. Lily watches him come to her. Sure. What is it?” she asked calmly, having no clue. Jun-ho purses his lips and takes both her hands into his. Courage—he truly needs it, and can’t turn back now. Jun-ho begins to expound.
“You are the only woman in my life. I was hesitant to do this, but I realized you mean so much to me that I don’t see anyone else to make me feel alive and know what love is. I took the time to think about it with my omma and your parents about what I want my future to be like. I hope it gets fulfilled once I ask you a question.”
His warm brown eyes are on hers and without looking away, he lets go of her hands. Jun-ho is down on one knee and pulls the small box out of his pocket. He hears Lily gasp and her russet brown orbs are glassy. She has tears welling. Jun-ho opens the box to reveal a silver ring with a circle diamond. “Will you be my wife, Lilymae Reed?” He finally asked the question.
Lily nods her head earnestly as tears fall from her eyes. “Yes! Yes, Hwang Jun-ho!” She sobs her words. Jun-ho’s lips crack a big smile and he gingerly puts on the stunning jewelry on her left ring finger. He stands on his feet to gather a crying Lily into a big bear hug.
“Oh, I have a gift from Bo-young!” She remembers the drawing. They parted and Lily took out the paper from her purse. She hands it to Jun-ho and he is truly fascinated. “Wow. She is wonderful. Tell her that I love it.” He kindly compliments the little girl’s artwork. Jun-ho believes and so does Lily, Bo-young has a crush on him, but it’s overall cute.
His birthday will forever be his favorite day from now on.
࣪𖤐.ᐟ
“So, is that why you’ve been acting weird?”
Lily knew something was up with Jun-ho, but she didn’t question it. She slurps on the jjajangmyeon that his mother cooked. It’s like heaven in her mouth. Jun-ho is eating the same thing with dumplings.
The silence breaks when he puts down his chopsticks and clarifies to Lily. “It did take me months to build the courage. So, around last week, I managed to talk to your parents and my broken English somehow made them understand that I need their blessings. I then earned it. I also told my omma and she was exhilarated because she wanted you and your family to join us, which I should tell her soon.” He must not break his mother’s promise.
Jun-ho sees Lily crying again while chewing on her noodles. He couldn’t contain his laughter. She is too precious. Jun-ho reaches over to grab her left hand. His thumb brushes the ring on her finger. Lily finishes chewing and wipes off the tears with her right hand.
She tells Jun-ho her thoughts. “I wished my family was here. I must thank them for letting you marry me because I am so grateful they accepted you. Also, your omma. I love her with my life,” Lily pauses and continues, “I’m looking forward to being her daughter-in-law.” That sounds odd but she’ll get used to it. Jun-ho holds her hand firmly. “I too wished your family was here. However, one day they’ll come visit South Korea.” He reassured Lily.
“Yes, one day.” Her voice trails like an echo.
To lighten the mood, Jun-ho suggests finishing dinner because he does want dessert. He has a sweet tooth just like his fiancée. Bumping into the bakery was either a coincidence or destiny.
After devouring the delicious jjajangmyeon and dumplings, they had enough space for the vanilla cream cake. Jun-ho takes a piece with a fork and eats it. His dark brown eyes widen. “Wow! You did amazing!” He compliments Lily’s homebaked dessert. She smiles gaily at his cute reaction. “Thank you! You can have more whenever you want.” Lily learned culinary when she first started living by herself because she knows she’ll need it in the future.
Her gaze lands on Jun-ho lips. She snickers and wipes off the cream with her thumb. “Don’t be a slob. I want to marry someone with manners.” Lily said in jest but she did mean it. Jun-ho then teases her by licking her thumb. She jolts and pulls away. “Yah! Don’t do that!” Lily glares at him with rosy cheeks. His eyes darken at the shy look she is giving him. Since when did Jun-ho become so seductive? Lily snatches the plate from him. “No more cake for you!” She chides and sets down the cake on the island.
Jun-ho chuckles huskily and wraps his arms around her petite waist. She has her back against his broad chest. His cleaned lips are close to her ear. “I love you, my Lily.” He spoke in a much deeper and elegant voice. The shy woman slowly puts her arms over his and turns her neck to look up at him. Lily is staring at Jun-ho's strong, needy gaze. “I love you too.” She admits wholeheartedly.
The man and woman move forward, touching their lips into a delightful kiss.
࣪𖤐.ᐟ
Golden rays of the sun ascended from the horizon. It’s the next morning and everywhere is quiet.
Lily dug into Jun-ho’s chest, wrapping her like a blanket with his athletic arms. The sun begins to beam through the curtains. She grimaces when light shines on her to wake her up. Her chocolate brown eyes blinked open and she first noticed her sleeping fiancé. He looks so peaceful and cute. Not like last night.
“You can take a picture, it’ll last forever.”
Jun-ho’s deep, drowsy voice scares Lily. His eyes are still closed. She pouts, “I wasn’t looking.” A failed excuse that made him laugh in contentment.
He opens those warm brown irises that she loves. Jun-ho plays a grin. “Good morning. Do you have any plans for today?” He asked and brushed her luscious brunette strands out of her face. Lily replied, “Yes. A girl’s day with So-eun." As much as she loves her students, getting a break helps her health mentally and physically.
Lily lets out a breath. “I need to get ready or she’ll blow up my phone.” She knows So-eun hates waiting and it’s understandable. Jun-ho buries his face into her face and whines. “Why must you go?” He sounds like an upset child. Lily didn’t think the almighty Jun-ho would be so clingy.
“Don’t you have work, mister?” She giggles when he groans in annoyance. His grumpy side is amusing to her because he knows his chief will yell at him if he doesn’t show up. That man has no patience and is forever cranky.
It’s also the weekend, but Jun-ho picked up a shift to earn extra. The next day, he’ll go sailing, which he’d been doing since June, and can’t find the island where the game took place. “I take that as yes.” Lily does a little nudge but Jun-ho has no complaint. He feels her delicate fingers brushing his dark locks. If only he could stay like this for eternity.
No nightmares, no worries, and no complications.
“I’m sure you’ll do great. If you need to vent, you can always come to me.” Lily has no problem being Jun-ho’s leaning shoulder because, in their future marriage, they need to express themselves. Communication has improved for them.
The man lifts his head from his love's hair to kiss her swollen lips. “Thank you. And you stay safe.” He gives her a direct reminder with love and care. Lily nods, “Of course. The same goes for you.” She hugs his neck and lays a little kiss on the side of her darling’s cheek.
series masterlist | three
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