#idk this just seems like one of those things that looked really really really good in my head but when executed its just like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zepskies · 2 days ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato I really, really did! I've been waiting for today, not just for my own posting but to read this chapter. (And your lovely comments on THC absolutely made my day, hun! 💕)

I know 😅😭 I wish that he wasn't this way, but Ben is so conflicted about expressing his emotions and he's not comfortable with those kinds of feelings. But at the same time it's what makes him so interesting to write for and also another thing that the reader can make him comfortable with. I really love that trope, when the reader is the only person that the grumpy guy can open up to and not feel judged by saying what they're really feeling.

Totally agree on that's what makes him compelling to write for lol. Because it's such a unique challenge -- how do you create those softer moments for him, and/or character development, but still keep him "as himself." 😅 You did a really great job of it in this chapter, especially with the added dimension of the soulmate aspect!

Omg yes, I said it on your review of THC, but Grumpy Guy softening up for only his girl is my absolute favorite thing ever (for soooome reason 🤭).

Thank you!! That is actually one of my favorite bits in this chapter. To me, Ben seems like the kind of guy who really likes a classic look and women who embody the characteristics of "the good old days." I mean, the dude complains so much about how things "used to be" that he's gotta be missing the way women acted when he was a kid lol 😂

hahaaa very much agree there too. And I can tell that you really cared about that section -- your passion came through in the words! 💖

Also yeah, dude is simping over the other half of his soul and he still thinks that he shouldn't be feeling any emotion lol. The man is perplexed lol.

lmfaoo "perplexed" took me out. 🤣 The math is just really not mathing for Ben, is it?

I had to throw in the Lorena Bobbitt 😂 If anyone had a freaky soulmate it had to be Legend. I love him, but he's got the same vibes as Barry's uncle in Bee Movie who is talking about the cricket with "crazy legs" 🤣🤭

LOL once you put the idea in my head I could very much see it. The man is a mess. And the fact that he still goes to see her for conjugal visits. 🤣 Ben's "Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy" killlled me. Like sir, you'll understand his problem once you actually MEET your soulmate.

(I've actually never seen Bee Movie. 🫣 It's probably one of the few kids movies I didn't grow up watching lol. Idk why!)

Thank you so much friend! I always love hearing what you think 🤗 Oh and next chapter is going to be... different. Maybe even a little heartbreaking. 😅😬

Omg pls, don't break me. 🤣🤣 I'll have to steel myself when that comes. I can only imagine how Ben is going to unintentionally fuck things up.

Chapter 2: I'll Never Let You Go Again Like I Did

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Little bit sad, DENIAL, Homophobic Comments (Soldier Boy), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of using drugs, Sexism, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of torture (Soldier Boy's Time in Russia) Loneliness, Longing (I mean… as close as Soldier Boy can get to it), Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.4K

Song Inspiration For This Chapter: Until I Found You (chapter title is lyric from this song) and Coming Back For You

Note: Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

Playlist for Series (Spotify)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Oh my goodness I'm so excited about this series and thank you so much to everyone for all the wonderful love and support so far! It really means the world to me 🥰

One Year Ago: Ben POV

Ben squinted his eyes as he stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of the early morning, shouldering the strap of his worn backpack with a huff. The people on the crowded, gum covered sidewalks shot him odd looks and gave him a wide birth as he made his way down the path, but he didn't care, in fact he didn't notice them. His mind was somewhere else.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just that something in the pit of his stomach was pointing him in this direction. Ben had started walking in what he thought was the way to Legend's apartment, but the streets looked so different than the last time he was in New York and he was a little turned around, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

And there was something in the pit of his stomach, some instinct or gut feeling, that was telling him he needed to go this way.

It was an odd feeling that prickled on the back of his neck, as if he'd forgotten something. Ben wondered what exactly it was that he'd forgotten. He hadn’t spoken aloud to anyone other than the scientists who kept him locked in a cage so he didn’t exactly have a social calendar to follow up on.

I've been locked in a lab for forty fucking years, what is there to forget?

But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed just out of reach.

Ben raised his eyes from the sidewalk with a sigh to look at the people passing by, taking in their new clothing and different hairstyles to distract himself. He frowned at the bizarre groups of people to him that flit by on their merry way, muttering little things under his breath about how things used to be.

Ben had a feeling that he was going to be doing that a lot.

New York City was different, the same, but different. Even though Ben had been gone for forty years, it still felt like the center of the universe. There were still hot dog vendors on every street corner, still magazine stands with freshly printed newspapers that smelled like ink and were warm to the touch, still coffee shops that lined the streets and caffeinated the masses, and there were still cab drivers who wove through traffic as if they were unstoppable shouting at pedestrians as they went.

The memories he had of old New York City merged together with what he was seeing around him and felt himself slipping into the past only to be jolted back into reality by the strangeness of the future.

He didn't like feeling disoriented, but it was there, brimming just under the surface. His body was tense as he walked prepared for anything, unable to relax as he continued on his way to wherever the hell it was he was going.

The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the skyscrapers that worshiped the rising sun and the sounds of the city vibrated against the brick and mortar. There was a buzz of electricity in the air, the low hum of power that Ben could always hear beneath it all. Cars honked sharply, people shouted in colorful language to one another, and the wind rustled through the long strands of Ben's hair crinkling against his ears and scratching against his neck.

He hadn't had time to cut it or his beard and it didn't seem to be as important as finding Legend and getting his affairs in order.

The smell of hotdogs, earth, cologne, and heavy perfume wafted up with the breeze that tugged and pulled at his sweatsuit. The same stained sweatsuit he had found in a rust covered locker before hiding in the cargo hold of a plane headed back to the U.S that was probably almost as old as him. The plane ride had been long, but when he'd been in a lab for the past forty years it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. He spent the whole time stewing in his thoughts. He'd slept enough and like hell he was going to drift off and let those Russian fucks take him again.

Ben sighed when he felt his memories begin to unravel on the edge of his mind, unfurling and asking to be relived. It wasn't unusual or unwelcome. Ben was using those memories to justify what he was going to do to his old team. As long as the rage continued to burn against his skin, Ben would have no problem breaking each of them down piece by piece.

Ben didn't understand how his team could have done that to him or why they'd done it to him. He thought that he'd been a good leader, a good American, a good soldier, a good hero, and yet they'd all stabbed him in the back. Sure, maybe he'd been a little rough on them, but Ben saw it as the only way to toughen them up. They needed thicker skin if they were going to survive in a world like this.

All I've done is give my fucking life to this country and what did they do? They gave me to the fucking reds.

His hand tightens on the strap of his backpack as he weaves through the crowds, trying his best to keep to himself when all he can feel is his anger and frustration building and burning hot under his rib cage. His new power stirred beneath the surface, energy beginning to travel through his body, tracing his veins and pulsing in the center of his chest.

I should have seen it coming. I should have killed that entire fucking bunch of pussies the second I had the chance. Especially that bitch.

His frowned at the thought of Countess.

Truthfully, when the two of them started messing around it was only because Countess's soulmate had died a few years before and Ben knew he wasn't going to meet his soon if anytime. He'd messed around with plenty of other women for the same reason and well…

Ben's frown deepened as he stepped around a couple that was walking arm and arm, the dates on their wrists flashing gold in the sunlight. He ignores the feeling that comes when he sees them, pushes it down into the deep recesses of his mind as he has done his whole life.

Since he was a kid, Ben wasn't sure that he believed the "soulmate thing." Sure he'd seen hundreds of other people around him find "the one," but Ben wasn't sure that he was made to be a soulmate. Especially not with a birthdate on his wrist so far in the future. He assumed that it meant he wasn't going to get a soulmate and he'd spent the better part of his life pretending that he didn't care about that. He was a man after all, and Ben didn't want to need anyone. At least, that was what he told himself.

Ben had lived long enough to see other soulmates find one another, witnessed the goofy looks on their faces when they locked eyes for the first time, and had the super hearing to listen to what came next.

But instead of focusing on the impossibility to meeting his own, Ben focused on the lie he told himself, that it seemed ridiculous to be intertwined with someone as soon as he was born. Not to mention that Ben wasn't sure that he wanted to be with someone, not when he didn't age and not when he'd have to watch whoever it was, if anyone turn to dust.

Yes, he could see himself settling down with someone, having a few kids, but Ben wasn't sure that whoever was supposed to be his other half was within reach anyway so why care? Ben knew that he didn't age, but he didn't actually think he'd ever get to meet you or that you would actually ever exist. Not when you were born so far away from him and not when he'd been trapped in that lab.

But that didn't stop a part of him from thinking about the possibility of meeting you. When things were quiet in the lab and he was left alone for a few precious moments, he felt his mind begin to slip into the question of what if?

What if you existed and what if you came for him?

He knew that it was a long shot. The only people that knew he was there were the people who stabbed him in the back. And Ben didn't want to cling to some fantasy, it felt feminine to fanaticize about the person who was supposedly meant for him breaking down the thick metal door and pulling him from the lab.

Again, Ben was trying not to believe in the "soulmate bullshit."

Countess had been a way of passing the time as had the numerous other women, but with them were moments when he'd feel something odd settle in his chest, something that he never could put a name to. In those moments he would raise his right arm and look at the birthdate printed on his wrist, the same one that Ben had kept hidden for most of his life, the one that when he was a boy people mocked him for, and the one his father chastised him for having as if it was Ben's fault that some celestial body had decided to single him out.

All of his childhood friends had found their soulmates and Ben had spent the better part of his life covering it up to avoid the conversation that always happened when someone saw the date. No ones soulmate was born so far in the future and Ben’s father had spent a lot of money making sure that word didn’t get out his son was a freak.

His father already made Ben feel like a disappointment and a fuck-up, but Ben was already thinking it himself every time he looked at the date printed on his wrist that seemed impossible. When his mother was alive she would try her best to make Ben feel better telling him that it wasn't impossible, that one day it would all make sense, but after her death Ben stopped feeling comfort, joy, and anything warm. All he felt was the cold shoulder from his father and the words that Ben pretended didn't hurt when his father was halfway through his second bottle of scotch with a third prepped and waiting on the kitchen table.

It made Ben feel like a pussy every time he looked at the mark and thought about his future soulmate, but he did it in private, usually after he'd had a few glasses of something and a few puffs or snuffs of something else to numb his mind. And he'd allow himself a single moment to think of you, wonder if he'd ever meet you, and wondered if you'd ever actually exist. In those few fleeting moments he believed in soulmates, but then he'd snap out of it and wake up the woman in bed next to him to distract him for another hour or so.

Ben's eyes flick to his right wrist covered by the gray and maroon tracksuit, his brow furrowing together. He was trying not to think about you or rather the possibility of you today. He didn't have time for that, not when all he wanted was to make his old team pay for everything they did to him.

But there was a little whisper of something in his ear, a small wisp of hope that he had finally made it to you, the one thing he didn’t think would ever happen, that he lived long enough to be alive the same year you were, and that you were out there somewhere waiting for him.

No. Ben tenses. I'm not going to think about her, not when those butt fucks need to be dealt with. I'm going to go to Legend's and then I'm going to-

He didn't see you in front of him until it was too late to move out of the way. Your body hits his full on in the chest, sending the bagel between your lips tumbling into the street, but Ben barely feels the hit, what he does feel is the dam he built forever ago burst open and warmth soaks into his body. Electricity skitters along his skin, crackling in the air as his eyes lock with yours only for a second. He feels like he's caught fire, as if the pieces of himself deep down inside are overheating and vibrating until there's nothing left, but you and him.

Any thoughts he had of his team and revenge are lost in the flood of emotions that fill the hole inside he tried so hard to ignore with the lie he continued to tell himself: “I don't believe in soulmates.”

And yet, there you were.

He can hear his heart and yours beating together as one, his own pounding so hard under his ribcage as if it wishes to break free and cross the space between your bodies. Seeing you for the first time feels like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp jolt backwards when it lands and the pinch of flesh against Kevlar. It was worth the bruise if looking at you was the same way each time.

Ben can feel the world slipping away, going silent, and in that silence Ben is lost in you.

Holy Fuck.

You were the perfect amalgamation of every single beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen and fantasized about in his entire life. And yet you weren't what he was expecting. Over the years Ben had bedded many women, the ones who captured his attention for a night, but none of them were anything like you.

In all the ways those women were bold and dramatic you were confident, but not boisterous, beautiful but not haughty, respectful but not prude, and there was a kindness reflected in the warmth of your eyes that Ben had never seen before, but there it was staring back at him unblinkingly.

You reminded him of the women that came arm in arm with men to his parents lavish parties when he was a boy, the ones who were classically beautiful and reserved with the golden dates on their wrists catching in the light. The exact kind of woman he hadn’t seen for the better part of eighty years and the opposite of the women who had thrown themselves at his feet forty years ago.

Your hair falls forward into your face from the force of your body hitting his and Ben itches to push it back, to touch you, to feel his skin against yours to quench the burning that he can feel in his soul.

All of his instincts are telling him to pull you against him, that you're too far away even though you're standing only inches apart. That he needs to breathe the same air and feel the warmth of your skin against his rough fingertips.

The birthmark on his right wrist sears his skin and he knows what it means, that you're the woman he's been looking for his whole life, the woman that always seemed just out of his grasp, the woman that was made just for him, and the woman he thought would never exist.

He watches your eyes widen with the same realization about him behind your round glasses, eyes that are the perfect color and eyes that Ben can imagine staring in to every day for the rest of his life. He'd never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman, never wanted more, but all of that fades into you.

The idea of a soulmate no longer seems ridiculous, no longer seems like something he’d never have, not when he’s looking into your eyes and nothing else seems to matter.

Not when looking at you is like seeing the sun sink into the earth at the end of the day and feeling the hope that it'll rise the next morning.

The lie he told himself for so long is slipping away the longer he stares at you, because although he never wanted to want anyone he knows that he needs you. It's an odd feeling for him. He's never once cared about anyone, told himself that it was weak to, that having a soulmate was a stupid idea and not for him, but all of the things he ever thought about soulmates is evaporating in the heat that is consuming his body by being in your presence.

Why now?

The thought makes the world come back into sharper focus.

I've lived decades without her and now the moment I come back to the U.S I just run into her?

It was laughable .

The moment of clarity allows the fantasies of his revenge to come creeping in and Ben feels the anger and rage ebbing on the edge of the wonderful feeling building in his chest when he looks at you.

You weren't a supe. Ben could tell that just by looking at you. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so soft and yet someone that he wanted to possess so badly that it almost hurt to stand inches away from you.

I don't want her to be apart of this.

The thought is immediate, stirring some primal urge within to protect what's his. Because you were his. You were the missing piece that he pretended not to need and the woman who always seemed to slip into his mind when he was alone and all was quiet,.

The thoughts of what he's about to do to his teammates come surging up and he didn't want you involved in any of that. Not when he knew that he needed to protect you, that he'd drag you along, and you'd see all the ugly parts of him and see the horror of what he was about to do.

He didn't want that for you, he didn’t want the first time that he met you to be like this, him looking like he'd crawled out from under a rock and full of so much anger, rage, and frustration it felt like he was going to explode, him having a new uncontrollable power that meant he might hurt you, and him being unable to give you his full attention when all he could think about was the team that stabbed him in the back.

What he was, was selfish, he knew that about himself.

But I won't be this selfish.

Ben had made many mistakes his life, he knew that, had done some things that he wasn't proud of, but you wouldn’t be one of them. He didn't want to put you in danger and realized that there was only one way to protect you, because after all, he was the only one who knew that you existed.

His eyes trace your face one more time, memorizing it before he does what he thinks is right. Ben turns away from you and forces himself to keep walking. Each cell in his body is screaming at him to turn around, to run back to you, but he can't. He doesn't want it to be like this and he knows that you deserve better.

I won't do this to her.

“Wait-“ He hears you shout over the sounds of the street.

The sound of your voice is a soothing melody, a warm soak in a hot bath, a steady hand against his back, and a salve over the gaping hole where a piece of him was missing for so long, the hole that he tried to ignore his whole life. He grits his teeth and continues to walk away from you, each step feeling like he's walking through tar the further he gets.

And deep down Ben is hoping that he did the right thing and makes a promise that he'll come back for you.

Present Day Ben POV

Why the fuck am I coming to this thing again?

Ben thought to himself standing outside the closed apartment door holding an expensive bottle of scotch. The same bottle of scotch that he was going to break open as soon as he crossed the threshold to get through this. He didn’t think that Hughie would appreciate it the way he would anyway.

Probably drinks those fucking fruity drinks with the umbrellas.

Ben didn’t understand why Hughie had invited him to this party or why Annie would let him invite Ben to it. Ben knew how much she hated him and the feeling was mutual.

Ben sighs as he stares at the door thinking about walking back to the elevator.

Invited was a strong word. Ben had overheard Hughie talking about it in the break room with MM and when Ben walked in, Hughie felt the need to fill the awkward silence by inviting Ben to the housewarming party.

Ben didn't know why anyone needed a housewarming party, but he chocked it up to another thing about the 21st century that he didn't quite understand.

He thought about all the people inside that he saw at work everyday, the ones that he tried to avoid all shoved in the apartment in front of him and groaned to himself.

Fuck, I should just go home.

Ben frowned at the thought of going back to his extravagant penthouse apartment downtown. The one that was two stories with a private balcony, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a study, a media room, an exercise room, and overlooked Central Park with a view that would make anyone else salivate. His real estate agent had been surprised when Ben hadn't batted an eye at the price, but Ben didn't think about money the same way everyone else did.

He didn't have to, not with the money he'd earned over the years and not with the money his father, grandfather, and great grandfather in his accounts.

When he'd first bought the apartment he had been happy to get out from under Butcher's eye, who had a tendency to watch Ben like a hawk whenever he thought that Ben wasn't paying attention. But the apartment was large and cold, furnished with furniture that Ben had hired some twenty year old interior designer to buy, who charged him an outrageous amount of money to do absolutely nothing. She'd called it "minimalism," Ben called it "a fucking rip off."

Not one piece of furniture was comfortable to him and being there never felt like home. Then again, Ben didn't have a "home" to compare it to. His family mansion back in Philadelphia after his mother died had been cold and most of the rooms were closed off and the apartment he had in New York before he went to Russia was almost as big as his new one, but it never seemed like home. It always seemed like a way station, a place for Ben to entertain women for a short while before he went to a commercial shoot, a party, or on location for a film.

Even his cleaning lady and housekeeper would comment on the little things about his apartment that Ben tried to ignore. Honestly, Ben thought that she was fucking nosy, but she did her job well so he kept her on.

That and because he couldn't seem to remember her name no matter how many checks he wrote.

Ben didn’t like being in his apartment at all, but he knew that it wouldn't change if he moved. It wasn't where he lived that was the problem, it was that you weren't there with him.

It had been an entire year since he'd seen you and every day Ben walked the same path he had the day he met you for the first time hoping to run in to you. He didn’t have your name or your address or anything that he could have someone at work plug into a computer to find you. He'd tried to "google" you, but there was only so much he could do with the little information he had and he didn't understand how to find you other than the old fashioned way.

So he was back to sitting home alone every night trying his best not to notice how empty the apartment was, the one he bought that was more than big enough for two people. Sometimes he tried to stay out as long as he could to avoid going back to it, but each time he went through the front door it only emphasized how empty it was.

Ben's life was empty. He hadn't realized that before, but nowadays he was hyperaware of it. In the past he would have filled his life with women eager to warm his bed, but ever since he saw you Ben hadn't been able to think about anyone else.

Ben couldn't remember the last time he felt this frustrated and it only made everything harder for him. And as much as he tried to relieve the tension it never seemed like it was enough. He needed you.

And after he spent twelve months trying his best and he was tired of feeling restless he tried to pick up a woman in a bar.

Every cell in his body screamed wrong at the top of its lungs when he spoke to her, using lines that he'd perfected since he was a teenager. Ben knew he was good at that, but he fumbled the ball each time he opened his mouth. He tried to shake off the ghost of you, but when he spoke to the woman leaning against the aged wooden bar with a martini in her hand and wearing a dress that left little to the imagination, he got a flash in the corner of his eye of someone coming in through the door and he'd thought it was you.

He hadn't been expected to feel so ashamed, guilty, and embarrassed at the thought of you catching him with someone else. He'd been sleeping with women longer than you'd been alive and he'd never felt that way, but now that he knew you existed and knew there was a possibility of you running in to him, it was all different.

Ben's outlook on soulmates being "ridiculous" had evaporated on the spot the moment he locked eyes with you. He couldn't pretend that he didn't care anymore and couldn't pretend that you didn't exist.

How could he when you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? How could he when a piece of him was with you? How could he when you were always on his mind?

He'd never had a woman have a hold on him so completely in his entire life, but you did.

She fucking does and I only saw her once.

It only made him feel worse. He wondered if he'd made the right decision when he turned his back on you.

Sometimes he liked to think back to the moment of when he first saw you when everything was quiet and he was sitting up in his bed staring down at the mark on his wrist that shone a brilliant gold. His mind would slip into those few moments of bliss and he would wonder what would have happened f he just said "fuck it" and didn't go after Payback, if he'd stopped and asked for your name, and allowed you to let him forget everything that happened in the past forty years so he could start his life with you.

Unfortunately, those moments were usually followed by the same self-deprecating thoughts that Ben had, the chauvinistic ones that he'd carried with him over the years, and the ones that his father had impressed on him from the moment he could walk and Ben couldn't seem to shake.

He'd berate himself about how it was stupid and pussy-like to pine over a woman.

Because that's what he was doing, he was pining over you and he didn't like it.

He didn't want to think of you as much as he did, but he couldn't help it. Now that Ben knew you existed he didn't want to miss out on another moment of your life.

Of course, he couldn't find you and that was the problem. Sometimes he wondered if you were looking for him as hard as he was looking for you, if you walked the same way each hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The dreams didn't make it any better. He'd never heard of someone living the memories of their soulmate when they slept, but every night he was subjected to watching your life and it only made him want to find you more.

He'd never knew that someone could feel so lonely surrounded by people, never knew that someone could feel so out of place, and never knew that someone could be as sad as you were, but each time he relieved a memory of yours at night Ben could feel his heart twinge.

Ben watched the lonely birthdays you spent with a cupcake and a beer for him, saw the jeers of the people in your hometown and the pitying looks from your parents, felt your shoulders shake when you cried alone in your room and stared at the birthdate on your wrist, and he felt you losing hope as each year passed.

Ben didn't usually allow himself to feel emotion like that, but watching you go through it all hurt him more than anything those Russian fucks did to him. He wasn't used to that and he wasn't used to thinking about other people as much as he thought about you.

But something about him felt different after meeting you.

Ben had asked Legend about soulmates, specifically the dreams, but Legend had muttered something unintelligible under his breath and took another snort of cocaine from the mirror on the coffee table instead of answering. Their relationship had been a little awkward after Ben slept with Legend's soulmate forty years ago, but Legend didn’t seem to be too upset about it… anymore. Mostly because Legend's soulmate tried to pull a Lorena Bobbitt one night and Legend caught her before any permanent damage was done.

She was in prison, and Ben didn't understand why Legend still went to see her for conjugal visits, but he figured that she was as much of a freak as his old handler.

Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy.

Ben thought staring at the clean white door in front of him.

Truthfully, Ben was tired. He'd been running himself harder for the last month, throwing himself into his work because he was starting to believe that he was never going to meet you again, and it seemed like work was the only thing that could distract him long enough. But he couldn't escape sleep.

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had avoided sleeping the best way he could and he got through a few days before he collapsed. The first dream he'd had of you had come on suddenly, but clear as day.

You reading on your bed in your apartment smiling down at the pages as if it the book was telling you a secret.

Ben wasn't a reader, didn't see any merit in it if it wasn't a western or a war book. The most he could tolerate was Ernest Hemingway, but he could have sat there and watched you read forever. You looked so peaceful, content, and happy that Ben was afraid to interrupt you even though it was just a dream.

But whenever he thought about you dreaming his memories, something dark settled in the back of his mind, because what were you seeing? He'd done a few things he wasn't proud of and Ben didn't want you to think that he wasn't a hero or that he was a bad guy.

Ben sighs and raises his hand to knock hard against the door with his free hand, trying not to open the bottle preemptively before entering the apartment.

"Ben?" Hughie says it like a question when he opens the door, eyes wide with the same stupid look on his face that always grates on Ben.

Ben forces his signature tight lipped smile that he flashes around the office. "Hey there sport."

"Hey. Wow, you're here." Hughie clears his throat and looks over his shoulder as if he's nervous about something.

Ben raises an eyebrow. "I was invited."

"Well yes but-"

"But?"

"Um-"

"Spit it out dipstick."

Hughie clears his throat. "I didn't think you would come."

Fuck I should have stayed home. He doesn't want me here, neither does his fucking beard.

Ben frowns listening to where Annie groans under her breath further inside the apartment and talks low under her breath to someone that Ben can't see.

"Well surprise and congratulations or whatever." Ben rolls his eyes holding out the bottle of scotch. He was hesitant to lose sight of it, not when talking to Hughie for less than five minutes made him want to down the whole bottle.

"Oh wow this is really," Hughie's eyes widen as he takes in the label and realize how much money Ben spent on the bottle. "Expensive stuff, thanks Ben."

"It'll put some hair on your chest." Ben claps Hughie hard on the shoulder as he pushes past him into the foyer of the apartment.

The entire apartment could have fit in Ben's living room and kitchen. It was made in a similar fashion to his, sleek white walls, sterling silver appliances, large glass windows that let in the light-

Ben stops so suddenly inside the area that leads into the kitchen that Hughie plows into his back, but Ben doesn't feel it.

He can't move, can't breathe, because he's noticed the person talking to Annie is you. This was the last place that he'd expected you to be, but he doesn't care, because you're here and you're more beautiful than he remembers.

You're standing there pouring ice from a large bag into a pink acrylic bucket with an adorable amount of concentration for such a simple task wearing the same sweater you were the day he first saw you. You're also wearing a little more makeup and your hair is longer, and not pulled back into the messy bun as it was that day, but you’re still you and you’re here.

His fingers twitch with the urge to run his hands through the tangled tresses, to feel if they're as soft as he imagined for so long.

Ben's body swells with emotion, goosebumps flicker over his skin, and all other sounds in the room vanish, because seeing you was like watching the sun rise and feeling the world hold it's breath as it basks in the early morning rays.

And Ben wanted to bask in everything you were, every day for the rest of his life. Now that he found you again he wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

Your soul sings to him as he nears you, the cells in his body vibrating so fast that he can feel every single one begging him to touch you.

You turn into him by accident, sending the bag of ice tumbling to the floor, but feeling your body against his sends him into overdrive and he can't hold back anymore. He reaches out to grab your shoulder as gently as he can without hurting you.

Hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. And because you weren’t a supe he knew how fragile you were.

You gasp under your breath at the contact from his hand, but to Ben it sounds thunderous in his ears. Ben trails his hand across your shoulder, up your neck, to cup your chin and raise your face to look at him. He feels like his whole body is igniting as he makes contact with your skin.

He can feel an odd vibration in his chest as he does so, energy crackling and pulsing around the two of you, but the rest of the room falls silent. He can’t look away from you, not when seeing you again is like staring too long at the sun and he's left with the imprint of your light and beauty on the inside of his eyelids.

Ben can't focus on anything else, doesn’t hear the awkward chatter, doesn't feel the discomfort he had upon his arrival, doesn't notice the way everyone has turned to stare at the two of you, and doesn't feel the air conditioning turn on and blow cool air against his warm freckled skin.

All he knows is you.

Your eyes are wide and he suspects his are as well, pupils blown but still beautiful and hypnotic as they were one year ago. Ben feels a smile pulling at his lips and he lets it go, because standing in front of you, feeling like this, it’s impossible to do much else.

Your skin is warm to the touch beneath the roughness of his fingertips and he touches you with a reverence that he has never graced anyone else with, because you were his. Every part of you was made for him just as every part of him was made for you.

The your soul was calling out to him, weaving a golden cord of energy in his mind that snagged in the center of his chest and made him feel whole for the first time in life.

You reach out to touch him, the soft palm of your hand falling just over his heart and it makes something inside him break open to flood the space between the two of you.

Hope stirs in his chest with your gentle touch and your unblinking gaze, warmth trailing from where your hand lays against his shirt. His eyes drop to the wrist to see his birthdate, a glowing ember against your skin where the sleeve of your sweater has fallen down an inch.

Your eyes lock with his once more, full lips slightly parted, and breathless.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." Ben murmurs, trailing his thumb across your cheek with a gentleness that he's never possessed.

Ben was not a gentle man, but for you he would try. He would be anything you wished him to be, for as long as he lived, because now that he found you, he was never going to let you go.

And he welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to stand in his way.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always welcome and appreciated! I really love hearing what y'all think. ❤️ If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@reidtomewinchester @livya99 @pascal-rascal424 @xaviersgifted @zepskies

@bagpussjocken @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kamisobsessed @goldenmaknaes @ophennie

@infinityonhighhhhh @modiddys-blog @globetrotter28 @roseblue373 @tulipsvanilla

@annoyingrebelsoul @soldiergrimes @megara0224 @zpandaqueen @ladykitana90

@corruptedcruiser @podiumackles @criminalyetminimal

@deangirl96 @kr804573 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn

@52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

@bookchik26 @anna6307

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twost3ps · 2 days ago

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*Au idea:Dreaded king Adam*

The council of heaven(or God) had to promise Adam to Lucifer(kind of like the Persephone story). The harem hates this idea but it’s no use.

Also just imagine their reaction to Adam coming into a meeting with a baby Charlie(she was made by magic by Lucifer to make Adam happy).

That to me can be either sad or funny because it can go one of two ways

An angsty route where the harem only gets to see Adam in the meetings and either romantically or not, miss each other’s company. Even if Adam does come to love Lucifer at some point or does willingly go down and feels content in hell ofc he’s going to miss the people he used to hang out with. Those meetings have a a great underlying vibe of longing that no amount to treasure can mediate

not my thing so there’s also the crack funny route where the harem would def be distraught before they're like :

"You know what imma sneak down there idgaf"

One of them was def crying for a bit before the decision is made (it's Mike and Jophiel)

Idk whether or not you're envisioning that Adam is together with them before the engagement or just likes them platonically tho but assuming he is romantic again I do find it funny if they sneak into lucifers castle with his help and they hang around until lucifer catches on (I mean Adam doesn't have be with them to just wanna hang out with his old buddies. It does get lonely in that castle lol. And what is hell to do againt what is basically a group of unstoppable forces)

They're all hanging out in the master bedroom till lucifer busts in shocked to see them all there

Lucifer: Wh- WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING HERE!?

Gabriel: Catching up with our boyfriend, duh. What do you want?

Lucifer: for you all to leave???

Uriel: mmnnnn.... naaaah..

Raphael: yeah we really miss our boyfriend so if you don't wanna be here could you just...? *he kinda just shoos lucifer*

Lucifer looks all pissed off: If you don't remember, IM the one who lives here and IM the one married to him.

Hes showing off his ring but there's a united scoff from the harem

Azrael: no offense but since when did you respect the sanctity of marriage?

This leads to this large fight, tho since lucys outnumbered, so he's not winning here. Thankfully, adam is there to calm them down. Adam argues that while yes hes married to lucifer, it wasnt fair to be pulled away from the people he cares about so no, hes still going to see his harem (whether romantic or not is up to you. He can just like being around them as friends while still loving lucifer or at least growing to love him)

So lucifer gets at least one archangel or virtue visiting every day. This oddly gets the siblings closer to lucifer again. They sometimes hang out with Lucifer as well or just him for old times sake

They could even have their own rooms there too. It would be kinda nice to see and bond with his family again. Maybe Lucifer opens the marriage idk tho

When they see Charlie for the first time, they're shocked and a bit jealous. Gabe def wanted kids with Adam lol. They're actually pretty good with her all things concerned, but they do dress her up and act like she's their own. Since she's made of magic and young, I do think they have some moderate influence on her appearance. Like she's still forming in a way. So when they first get their hands on her, they change the color of her cheek marks to their responding colors. It's like that scene in sleeping beauty with the faries and the dress, but imagine the rainbow instead and whats changing is charlies cheeks and hair color. Adam does get huffy about it tho and they all reluctantly turn her back to red cheeked and blonde

Ngl in the early stages they were trying to be another parent to her as a sort of get back at Lucifer for 'stealing' Adam, trying to get her favor whenever they visit or have meetings. But they chill out over time. Doesn't mean they don't get a bit smug is charlie seems to prefer going to them for some things.

The only really dreaded thing is, for the harem at that point, is not being always able to barge in

This was probably supposed to be more angst or something my bad lol

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer hazbin hotel #adamsangels #guitarduck

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huuuuughes · 1 day ago

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Mine. - Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Jeremy comes over to beg for your forgiveness, and things quickly take a turn... but not for the worst.

Word count: 3.3k (its short ik im sorry)

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, bad writing??? idk this is porn OKAY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. pls dont read if you're under 18 thank u!!

Note: i wrote this awhile ago for goalie week and then a bunch of stuff happened and i kept forgetting to post it bc i started my first full time job a month ago and its kicking my BUTT. anyways thanks for reading :)

You could hear your phone going off from across the room. It was Friday night and the end of a very long work week. Your boss was driving you up the wall and your personal life didn’t seem to be going much better. Your friends were good, you just didn’t get to see them as often as you wanted due to just being adults and everyone having their own full time jobs.

The one person who was supposed to make your life easier, better even, was the one currently blowing up your phone. You knew exactly who it was, but he deserved to sit there and stew for a while. But as you looked around your apartment while trying to decide what show to numb your mind with, you noticed things of his strewn everywhere. You didn’t live together, not yet anyway, but based on the amount of things you had at each others’ places, you may as well have.

Your work involved working with many different clients, and making their dreams come true. You were a travel agent, and your boss didn't exactly adhere to the typical 9-5 schedule like a normal job. If you were awake, she expected you to be able to take care of the problem.

You had already decided long ago that men didn’t always think with their brains. Jeremy was jealous, but of what you had no idea. Did you have a lot of clients who were men who wanted to surprise the lady in their lives? Yes. Did those scumbags also try and make a move on you sometimes? Also yes. But you were a professional, and always conducted yourself as such. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t your job to fix someone else’s insecurities. You could tell Jeremy that he didn’t need to be jealous until you were blue in the face, but you didn’t know when he was going to get it. You weren’t broken up, but you’d told him you needed a minute for him to calm down. It had been a few days at that point, and you couldn’t deny you were also getting antsy. He may be a stupid guy sometimes, but he was yours.

After what had to be the millionth time of your phone going off with a DING of a text, you made yourself get up off the couch. The last message you had read:

Sway❤️: I know I’m stupid. I need you to know I’m sorry. Can I see you, please?

After the stressful week you’d had, you wanted nothing more than to feel his familiar warmth around you. The moment he was near you it was like the noise around you calmed down to its lowest level.

Y/N: I’m at home, you know where to find me.

Sway❤️: I’m on my way, be there in 20. I love you.

The next twenty minutes were going to kill you. Your apartment was already cleaned, because you liked to clean when you got anxious as mess only made you more anxious. Your doorman would recognize Jeremy and send him up when he arrived, so you didn’t need to even get up to let him in. He had his key, he knew exactly where to find you.

After an eternity, at least what felt like one, you heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock. He quietly took off his shoes by the door, and locked it behind him.

“Babe?” He called out, already walking toward the living room where you sat.

“I’m in here!” You called back. Relief washed over you when you saw him, but you didn’t get up and go to him. He had to earn you back the way you deserved.

“Where should I start?” He asked, sitting down in a chair only a few feet away from you.

“How about how you shouldn’t act jealous of my stupid clients? Or any man that I’m ever with that isn’t you? Do you really think I’m that crappy of a person that I would EVER cheat on you?”

“I know I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that because you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but-“

“BUT WHAT JEREMY?” You screamed, and you know it came out louder and meaner than you wanted it to. He recoiled a little bit but didn’t lose his energy.

“I’m stupid. I’m a stupid guy, who knows you are way out of my league. It sounds like a dumb excuse, but I’m so scared of losing you. I want you, I want to love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But you’ve seen the league, you’ve seen what this life can do to relationships and what it turns people into. I don’t want anything bad to happen to us. I know this isn’t the life you signed on for. I think about you being at home alone and I hate it.” He looked defeated and like he meant every word he’d said.

“You can’t lose something you already have.” You wanted to close the space between you so badly.

“You still want to be with me?” You got up and walked to the kitchen as he asked, putting away the wine you’d gotten out so it wouldn’t spoil. He followed closely, less than a few steps away. One giant step and he’d be able to close that space.

“I wouldn’t have told you to come if I didn’t. You just needed to listen, and you weren’t hearing me. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, that isn’t who I am.”

“I hear you loud and clear now. And I’m not jealous, you’re just mine.” The tone in his voice shifted to another one you recognized.

“I’m yours huh?” You said it like you were challenging him because it sounded like he thought he already won. He should be fighting for you and showing you what that means.

“Do you need a reminder?” He closed the space, so his forehead rested against yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face, breathing in time with you. Without warning, you pressed your lips against his with a new hunger behind you. You’d missed this heat between you, the raw need to have each other right in that moment.

His hands explored your body, finding their way to your ass and lifting you up onto the counter. It was cold against your legs, the shorts you had on weren’t very long and you felt every inch of cold countertop but you didn’t care. His lips left yours with a moan and began making their way down your neck. You could feel how wet you were already getting, responding to his touch so quickly. You reached for the hem of his shirt and motioned for him to take it off. He complied in earnest, his mouth immediately returning to you.

Lifting your shirt up and over your head, your breasts became exposed for him to devour. He licked around your nipple, biting it and chasing you to arch off the counter while letting out a scream. Your nails were digging into every spot on him that he could reach. Momentarily he kissed your mouth again, bringing his still covered cock against your center. You could feel it hard against you, the friction only giving you the slightest relief.

“Please daddy, please I need-“ You tried not to beg but the torture was killing you.

“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Tell daddy who you belong to princess.” He whispered in your ear, continuing to kiss around your neck in the spot he knew you liked.

“YOURS. I’M YOURS!” You needed relief or you were going to go insane.

“Now was that so hard baby?” He asked. You didn’t even have the time or energy to reply as he pulled off your shorts in one big motion.

“No underwear? Even better.” You attempted to push his head toward your swollen clit, but he wouldn’t go faster than he wanted to. He kissed and bit your thighs, leaving marks where he knew no one could see. You’d have those marks there for weeks. Each kiss he got closer until you finally felt his tongue brush against your clit. You shivered as he began to devour you, your thighs clenching around his head not wanting him to escape.

He pulled back but only for a moment, instructing you to lick the fingers he was putting in front of your face. You did as he asked, and he resumed going after your pussy. In a new move, he inserted his fingers into you as he continued eating. His tongue was licking in time with his fingers as they pumped in and out of you. He was hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Holy shit don’t stop, don’t stop PLEASE.” You were writhing on top of the counter as he struggled to hold you in place. He knew you were so close to your high, edging you just along that fine line. You’re burning up and he knows it. His other hand reaches up and pinches your nipple before grabbing onto your breasts like they were his lifeline.

You cursed him silently for having hair you couldn’t grab onto, but you pressed his head as if it could go further into you. His tongue quickened its pace, matching his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building and it was right there, all you needed to do was let go.

“Let go baby girl, cum on my face for me..” He whispered against your clit, and what came out of yours was a series of expletives that you didn’t care to understand. He could taste everything you were giving him, not stopping as you started to come down. Every nerve ending was on overdrive and he held you down against the counter. The wave of your orgasm rolled over you, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t let a single drop of you miss his mouth, and you saw his smile looking up at you as you tried to catch your breath.

He stood up without breaking eye contact, and undid his own pants. He made sure all remaining clothes of yours were off, nibbling on your ears and down your neck as he did so. In a move of complete trust, he picked you up off of the counter and carried you down to where he knew your room was. His lips found yours again and suddenly your lungs were struggling for air but you didn’t care. Your arms were hooked around his neck as he walked, kissing him like your life depended on it.

Setting you down on the bed, he laid you down on your back, and stood back to marvel at the sight of you.

“You look… “ his brain was struggling to find the right word, “fucking stunning.”

“And you have too many clothes on… sir.” You put yourself up on your elbows, looking down at his boxers that for some reason, had remained on. You didn’t need to let him finish what he was going to say, you needed him to do something more than speak.

“Sir?” He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you.

“Did you like that?” You knew he did but it was your way of teasing. His mouth was on yours before you could process his next movements, placing one hand to your side to balance himself and the other knotted in your hair, pulling your head back so you were looking up at him when he pulled apart. You didn’t even realize that his boxers were already off, as you felt his cock brush against your leg and pussy.

His hand left your hair and explored your leg, getting closer to its destination. His face was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face and his fingers glided over your folds, but so lightly it sent a shiver up your spine. You could hardly catch your breath but you were dying for him to touch you, to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You wanted him to hear you. His hand remained on your pussy, his fingers becoming soaked.

“So fucking wet for me baby.. did you miss me?” He quickened his fingers and began pumping them inside you. The feeling of his fingers wasn’t enough, you needed more and a whine-like moan escaped you. You whispered a response to him, and it spurred him on.

“Please Jeremy please, please I need you inside me..”

“That’s not my fucking name, not in here. In here I own you, isn't that right princess? Do you want me to be gentle?” You nod no, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Use your words princess.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“Don’t be gentle!” You tried pushing his head towards your core again, but he remained looking at you with his fingers teasing you. He added another, stretching you from the inside. You gasped and scratched your nails up his back.

You gasp again, as you feel him part you with two fingers and put his tongue against you again. He wasn’t done tasting you yet.

“Please baby, I need your cock. Please!” Your mouth couldn’t move fast enough and you didn’t even care that he had reduced you to a begging mess beneath him. Your hips wanted to grind, needing more friction. You could feel your release building again as he sucks on your clit. It was right there, you could feel it as you clawed at your sheets trying to grab onto something but there was nothing.

Your legs spasmed around his head as your release flooded over you and he ate you once again.

“So fucking wet for me, you’re so stunning baby girl.” He kissed his way up your body and aligned himself with your entrance. He isn’t gentle as he slams into you as he kisses your mouth like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

You’re left begging for air as his head drops down, ducking your nipple into his mouth.

“Oh god, oh fuck..” you cry out as he wasn’t holding back. He slammed into you over and over, bringing his hand up to find your clit. As he fucked you he was playing with your clit again, causing your wetness to pool onto the bed. Every single nerve you had was on fire, and only he could put it out.

“Tell me you need it, tell me how bad you want you want my cum.” The hand not on your clit slowly moves up your body to the bottom of your throat and locking his hand around it. Not putting too much pressure, but enough to lightly choke you. Both of your hands gripped his arm as you felt his cock filling you and his thighs slapping against yours. His speed was increasing and so was the hunger in his eyes.

“Oh fuck, fuck daddy please I need your cum I need you so bad..!”

“You are mine, your orgasms are mine, everything about you is mine.” Without warning he withdrew from you, earning a desperate moan. Quickly he flipped you over into your stomach, pulling your hips back so you were on your hands and knees facing away from him with your ass in the air waving him in like an invitation.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He whispers into your ear from behind you. He places kisses on the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy, running his cock along your folds at the same time. He pushes into you again and holds back nothing. Jeremy grips both of your hips with his hands and brings your hips back to meet each one of his thrusts. The sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoes throughout the room, reaching spots inside you that you didn’t know he could.

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed into the bed as he fucked into you.

“So fucking tight princess, this pussy was made for me.” His nails scratch down your back eliciting a loud string of moans. His thrusts become more erratic and he brings his hand up, then down to smack your ass as hard as he could. The scream you made encouraged him more, and you could feel a third orgasm building.

“Fuck daddy, please I’m right there I need to cum daddy please..” You didn’t know how he had gotten that many out of you, but you could already tell he was determined for more.

“That’s it baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock..” He brought his hand around as he leaned into you to tease your clit some more. You were right there, you pushed back to meet his thrusts to get yourself over the hill and the relief washed over you. You moaned out his name, begging for him to fuck you harder and faster.

He loved seeing his length go in and out of you, taking all of him so well. Spreading your legs to give him a better angle, his cock continued hitting that spot inside you. He slaps your ass again, and again. You cry out, knowing his release was close behind. His hands wrap in your hair and pull you back, making you arch towards him.

“Fuck yes baby, you like it when I fuck you like this? You ready for my cum?” He chases his release just as badly as you want it from him, feeling him trying to reach his high. You nodded in response to him, not being able to form any more words. The only sounds coming from you were moans of encouragement, it felt like you could be on cloud nine.

“FUCK!” He screamed as he pulled almost all the way out, slamming back in and releasing his load into you. Jeremy almost collapsed onto you, but he brought you into his arms as he pulled out of you as his cum slowly leaked back out. You knew he thought it was the hottest thing ever. Both trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth, he pulled you in once you laid down so that you were on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat going a million miles a minute inside his chest, but it brought you a sense of calm. Your person was back where he belonged, he had finally heard you.

“I love you.” He finally spoke but he still sounded out of breath.

“I love you too.”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you, I really love you. THIS is what I want. This body, your perfect fucking curves. Every minute of every hour of every day, I want you. Not just your body, I want all of you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I can’t promise you that I won’t make stupid choices sometimes, but I can promise to be better for you every day.”

“Jer-“ You attempted to stop him, you knew he was it too.

“Please let me finish. I want to make you feel good, I want to be the person you want to come home to every day, I want to be the person who pushes you to be the best version of yourself and make you feel like the queen of the world. You’re it for me, there is no one else. I’ve spent my whole life doubting myself and chasing this dream I couldn’t even describe. But I can see it so clearly now, and I know that dream is you. And I want to be able to have forever with you, if you’ll have me.” You took a moment to absorb his words.

“You have to make me a promise okay?” His eyes gleamed at you, like you were holding up the moon just for him.

“Anything, you name it.”

“Promise me forever. There is no past anymore, there is only us and the future we make together. I want us to help each other be better. Okay?”

“Okay. How about we start forever now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#nhl #hockey #danielle writes #fluff #angst #smut #jeremy swayman #boston bruins #boston bruins fic #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman smut #jeremy swayman fluff #jeremy swayman x reader #jeremy swayman imagine #nhl writing #nhl imagine

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tea-cat-arts · 4 months ago

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I simply think this fandom doesn't give Wei Wuxian enough credit for the various ways in which he saved Lan Wangji

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #idk man- i just see a lot of “Lan Wangji has always been protecting Wei Wuxian” posts and its like...#I mean... Lan Wangji has always certainly been trying to protect Wei Wuxian #it took him a long time to figure how to successfully do that though #rereading the books rn and noticing theres a lot of instances that could be read as lwj being frustrated over his inability to protect wwx #like he seemed ready to cry when wwx went missing for a while and then came back with the cursed leg #lwj has always been great at protecting wwx from physical threats (ex: waterborn abyss) but had no idea how to protect him from himself #meanwhile wwx has always been instictually good at saving lwj from both #like I'm 100% lwj would've become like Jiang Cheng if wwx hadn't snapped him out of the blindly following authority thing #and also like... 15 y/o lwj wasnt happy with his life. he was lonely and stressed and literally signing up to be flogged whenever he goofed #wwx is who allowed lwj to grow up by showing him what it was like to actually be a kid (shown in story whenever lwj gets drunk)#he led lwj to having a more flexible mindset. and it both let lwj relax and set lwj up to be a better parent #looking into lwj's dynamic with the juniors- he lets them break a fuck ton of the petty rules and encourages them to question authority #he also teaches them to not be married to any one meathod of problem solving #wwx is also able to save lwj from his own stubbornness #ex: carrying lwj when he broke his leg. getting lwj to cough up bad blood. getting lwj to keep the rabbits #wwx also tends to give lwj the words he has trouble saying himself. helps him communicate #wwx also protects lwj in fights a lot but thats narratively less important #except the various times wwx puts himself in danger to help lwj. those times are what made it so lwj could never move on from wwx #like with the cave incident #or when wwx helped surpress the arm instead of using the chaos to escape cloud recesses #tldr i guess: i think this fandom tends to treat lwj being the best like its natural to him when really wwx accidentaly rewired his brain #I'm looking directly at fanfic writers who act like the Lans would've treated wwx better than the Jiangs #lwj had to do so much work and self reflection post meeting wwx to be the way he is. he is not the sole product of the Lan teachings

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eri-pl · 2 days ago

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Ooooh. :) What an interesting topic to think of. (disclaimer: that is all purely for intellectual fun and not expected to fit with any real-world theology or anything also may contain peanuts.)

I am slightly surprised with your take on the Ainur (the accents, not the content) but yes, the fact that they existed before time makes it somewhat weird when you look at it too closely, but,... idk. Let's handweave it.

Maeglin is blamed on the Doom of the Noldor? I forgot that, that's interesting.

Yes, the non-Noldor, and early Noldor were not perfect, also, Miriel died and Finwë get this really strange for Elves thing when he fell in love again, and this was before the whole thing. "In some ways" is the key here, I agree. Like... they are not all-fallen-as-a-race but many of them seem kinda fallen. I think it's another case of Tolkien trying to do many things at various times and those things not working well together.

Also, you could say that the Dark Elves fell when they refused to go to Valinor, maybe? That would fix a lot. The Vanyar do seem non-fallen, unless you hc them to be jerks. And you could also blame the Teleri for waiting. This still leaves the pre-exile Noldor as an open question. But they do work with Melkor after his release….

Elves are tied to Arda, they are maybe more like the natural world, maybe their fall is very gradual, fuzzy... Men are more all-or-nothing than elves, I would assume. The Elves are connected to Arda, they are sort of grounded, maybe their corruption and the corruption of Arda is not fully separable. Yes, we're probably getting to stuff that normally would be a heresy, but idk it's a fantasy book and maybe we can see it as a metaphor for something.

Yes, Men are… Men. And hobbits are Men, but smol. And yes, the Shire is Tolkien's nostalgia wish-fulfillment land in a way.

The Dwarves are, I would say, not fully integrated in the narrative as a metaphysically-on-human-level race. They started off as monsters, like Orcs, and evolved among Tolkien's drafts and ended up a little unfinished. Other seemingly-posessing-souls creatures (Ents, Eagles if you don't see them as Maiar,..) are even more unintegrated.

I don't think I have a good explanation of the Dwarves, but also, with them we are working so far outside any framework we know…

I don't have much new thoughts to add, I'm sorry. It's just… What we are doing, what Tolkien tried to do is just jumping so much above out heads. (But also so interesting.)

OK, let me propose something: the Dwarves have both the "problem" of Men (die) and the "problem" of Elves (while alive, they're attuned to Arda). They just get un-attuned when they die. Somehow. Because Aulë made them in a way that was… well, he tried. I like Aulë.

So the Men are, in a way the only unfallen (except that they fell) race: they are the only ones that are not corrupted by the marring of Arda, because they are not connected to it so strongly, like they have a kind of filter? So… OK, we're getting to a place where I need to put my hc on a shelf to even be able to discuss that close enough to what Tolkien wrote or suggested. So I will not go into the details. Anyway the outcome is that they are fallen too, but they are fallen in a different way. From the inside.

And it seems the exiled Noldor may have this too? I'm not fully buying it tbh. But maybe that was Tolkien's intent about them. So they would be breaking both from the outside and from the inside. But they do not die. So, you are probably right, it's not the same thing.

Anyway, the marring is one thing and the fact that the Valar aren't working perfectlly either… it may be the result of the marring, it may be just the result of them being ...whatever to call it. But they do make mistakes, to mention the biggest: the whole Dwarves situation. I think this also has an impact on the state of the world.

The world is falling apart (just slowly) and the Men (and only them) would not be falling apart with it, except they do, just for a different reason. This makes no sense on many levels, probably, but makes some sense to me as a way to read the Silm. It fits with the theme of diminishing and fading and all that.

In which I puzzle over metaphysical implications as regards the peoples inhabiting Arda

fyi, a certain familiarity with the (predominantly Christian, I think) concept of fallenness/unfallenness is assumed, although it turns out that it doesn't necessarily work here. Feel free to ask for clarifications

So. I'm once again wracking my head as I try to make sense of what I shall call: 'metaphysical states' of elves, men and others, because the subject is emphasised and lampshaded a lot in the books, and I can't force it all to make sense when taken together.

Ainur are a specific case and I should really leave them aside for now. They certainly can fall — and, unlike angels, change their mind, apparently (which goes both ways) — although they do seem to be more all-or-nothing than everyone else. Still, I think as long as one doesn't go into the implications of time and what its existence or nonexistence changes, they're almost straightforward. But then you have:

Elves. The 'Fall of the Noldor' is very strongly emphasised as a metaphysical fall from grace and further evils, even ones unconnected with the matter of the Silmarils themselves, are blamed on it later (Maeglin!) So far so good. Except. Non-Noldor are also liable to behave in ways that are not exemplary in the slightest, and it doesn't seem to signify a cesura in the same way — and the Noldor in Valinor were able to commit acts that perhaps weren't as heinous as what we call crimes, but weren't good either. Getting into rancid fights with your brother isn't much in comparison, but these are not the actions of unfallen people.

And on the other hand, authorial quote (paraphrased): "Elves in some ways represent Man in an unfallen state". And I'm inclined to agree: they aren't subject to death (except they may be killed, so doesn't this already break down?), and there is something very poignant in the image of their artistry, "extempt from earthly limitations". But they do not lose it, not in any easily tangible way. We can argue that evil diminishes creativity and it's probably true, but there is no hard line anyone passes. And this is again lampshaded in-world with the Númenoreans ("If we die because of some darkness that lay on us before, than why don't the Noldor?").

Which brings us to Men. The existence of a direct cause-effect relationship between fallenness and mortality in Arda cannot be ascertained (Even taking into account a Catholic framework, I feel that logically it need not be the same relationship as the Biblical one since, in contrast with the Garden of Eden, the world was already marred when humans appeared). While I consider the Tale of Adanel to be Gondorian in origin, I can also see the possibility that whatever Men did back then, beyond memory (or in other words "we purposefully forgot") was just that much worse than Alqualondë and the Oath. In any case, Man is very straightforwardly Fallen.

Hobbits. The rules for Halflings are presumably the same as for Men, which is certainly notable, given that they seem to be the least inclined to evil of all incarnates. Not perfect, not by a long shot, but unknowing of wars and violence. A pastoral image, only in-world it's true.

And at the same time, my musings bring me to the unexpected conclusion that dwarves are the only notable "generally unfallen" kindred. Which is, in context of everything that regards them, weird — because by their actions, they are very similar to Men. And yet — either the circumstances of their creation make them disadvantaged from the start (which doesn't really make that much sense), or something happened off-screen, or it's the same case as Saeros, or Thingol sending Beren to his death.

Ents? I honestly don't know if we've seen enough of ents to judge, although they seem generally good-inclined? Huorns are a different kettle of fish.

Before I try to explain orcs, it would do well to know what they are exactly.

In other words, I cannot make sense of it all, enough that I've resorted to calling the default state of incarnates in Arda "semi-fallen" (or, as is, "semi-unfallen"). Which is not a thing that makes sense, philosophically speaking — but I can find no better way.

(Although, to be quite honest, the default state of being in Arda (because of the discord?) seems to be significantly different from the unfallen state of Man as described by religious thinkers in some ways, and not all of them regard merely such things as physical marring, so perhaps "semi" isn't the worst way to describe it.)

In any case, if someone has thoughts on the subject, I'm very open to hearing them.

#peoples of arda #religion #Silmarillion #silm #the silm #the silmarillion #tolkien legendarium #tolkien metaphysics #sorry i'm not in a great mood i may do more disclaimers for reasons you probably can understand well #also i need to get my hcs sorted out #it's more complicated than i thought #but fortunately i can worki with multiple hcs and just switch between them #anyway i gained even more ...appreciation... on how ugly parts of the book are and it's not even the parts everyone else freaks about #[yea it's the fall of men stuff]#i appreciate Christopher Tolkien not putting it in the published silm #for many reasons #it's just awful and whatever i don't have a word #edit for clarity: Morgoth is awful not “the book is awful”!#the book has some parts i complain about but that's a while different level like a lot of levels different

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