#the chapters are really short but they're not connected enough that I want to put them all in the same chapter

[jorvikzelda]

been feeling like Lisa is just a really difficult character to get down and putting writing her thing that I've been putting off for weeks even though it was technically fully planned because I just cannot get in her head and then I write 1700 Lisa words in one setting. bitch. what

[excessive-vampires]

Dealing With Demons Chapter 5: Hope This One's Interesting Part 2: Cee

Masterlist with CW

Taglist: @demyxdancer @softvampirewhump

"This complicates things," Avi said, looking at my Spotify profile.

Maybe it means they're willing to forgive you? I mean they could only have found it through you.

"Or maybe they were just curious and recognized your good taste in music. Now, I have to do an hour of business paperwork."

I groaned internally.

"To make sure I stay filthy rich."

I thought my acquiescence.

"So what podcast do you want me to put on for you?"

Have I mentioned how much I love that I don't have to pay attention to your boring ass business shit?

Avi beamed. They were proud of the system we'd come up with. Then suddenly they closed their eyes and inhaled deeply.

"A summons."

Guess the paperwork will have to wait. Hope this one's interesting.

That last interesting one I remembered was a woman who wanted one of every single issue of a certain comic book from thirty years ago. That had taken some investigative work. Deals were getting more and more rare, honestly, since Avi had refused to do anything too illegal for any reason besides protecting themself or punishing deal-breakers ever since we made our deal. It just wasn't worth the risk of ending up on the run from the law when they had a real life they'd lose if they did. But they didn't really mind the scarcity. Demons were patient, according to Avi, and for now they didn't need any more power to get what they wanted, not when they had me.

They blinked and suddenly we were in a dark room. Probably some sort of basement. It smelled like underground. Stale and damp and earthy. The floor was rough beneath their feet.

Across the room stood a person probably in their early forties. Short dirty blond hair tinged with gray at the temples Sinister smile, impeccably dressed.

Avi wore casual clothes. One of my old band t-shirts and sweatpants. Not even a bra. I felt self-conscious next to their soon-to-be client's suit. Avi felt frustrated that there had been no time to change. But if they don't answer a summons right away the summoner will eventually give up.

"You're not what I expected." The summoner's voice had a southern drawl to it, much thicker than my slight accent.

Avi looked down at their outfit and grimaced. "If you give me a moment I can put on some more businesslike attire."

"Not entirely what I meant. You have a physical body."

So, this summoner knew enough about demons to recognize possession. That was interesting, but not too unexpected. People tended to do quite a lot of research before selling their souls. I'd had only the one spellbook I found hidden in an alley to guide me, but I was in too much of a hurry to bother finding connections in the world of mages before making my deal.

"Yes." They beamed. "Isn't it nice?" They made a show of turning around in a circle.

"Don't you want a skinnier one? I mean, you're not a demon of gluttony." The summoner laughed at their own joke.

Rage bloomed in me, but also shame. It just goes to show, you never completely unlearn anything.

"Not. Interested."

The summoner shrugged. "No need to get angry."

"Now," the demon inhaled, searching the essence of the summoning spell for more information on the person standing before us. "Cliff Mason. Hi, I'm Avi, they/them. What do you desire?" We both wanted to get this deal over with as soon as possible, Cliff seemed like an asshole.

He grinned. "I have a plan. It requires one of each type of demon." He held up seven fingers.

Ominous.

"It will bestow great power upon everyone involved."

Vague.

"Uh huh, sure. Which lucky demon gets your soul?"

There was a slight pause.

"The power should be its own reward."

There's another red flag.

"Listen, I've kind of got my own thing going on, so find yourself another spirit of avarice."

"No! Having a demon that owns a body will make things so much easier! Now that I've found you I won't let you go!"

I don't know if you can hear this but there are warning sirens going off in my brain right now, Avi.

"Yeah, sorry, this sounds sketchy as hell. I'm out."

"Wait! No!"

With another blink we were back in Avi's apartment.

"That was weird."

Let's hope he gives up on whatever he's trying to do.

"Yeah, it sounds like he'll likely just blow himself up anyway."

I hope so. I got a seriously creepy vibe from him.

They walked over to their desk and sat down to start on the paperwork. "Don't worry, we'll probably never see him again." 

[btsgotjams27]

LOL Is it too early to ask for a teaser for Chapter 18????

Well now I know why none of the words I sent in for the ask game worked. For some reason, I thought they met in this chapter. Apparently, I got screwed up somewhere with chapter summaries. So it's Chapter 18 they come face to face? I guess in LA. I thought they met again in Seoul. Boy am I screwed up!

Okay, let me be serious here for a bit. I have a lot to say about this chapter. I'll probably be all over the place, cause my thoughts are all over the place right now.

I think she has moved on slightly more than he has. And when I say slightly, I really do mean slightly. It's clear as day from his POV he has not moved on. He still saves stuff of her. Even though he said he meant to get rid of it, there is clearly a reason why he hasn't been able to bring himself to do it. I think Bam is the only thing holding him together right now. A distraction, I guess. If he didn't have Bam, I think he'd be in worse shape. Further evidence of him not moving on is when he ended the video chat with Yuna when he heard OC come in. He's not ready to face her because it will bring up all his unresolved love for her. And then when he's in Seoul, he asks if shes dating Yoongi. These are all clear indicators he hasn't moved on. He may be doing okay without her in his life, but that's entirely different from actually moving on. There's no way he'd be able to have another relationship right now. He's still not at that point.

Strangely, I liked his conversation with Alex. I kinda feel like she has changed a bit. But I didn't like that she didn't seem to acknowledge her place in screwing up his relationship with OC. She seemed to be more sorry that she did what she did to him, rather than be sorry that he got dumped because of it. She even said that she was sorry that happened, that he seemed to love oC very much. But she still did what she did a year ago, knowing how in love he was with OC. So while I agree that she seems to have changed, she still hasn't owned up to what she did enough for me to completely forgive her.

His conversation with his mom confused me a little. I did a little double take when she asked him not to "hurt her again". Clearly, she's talking about OC. But why would she think he'd have another chance to hurt her? They're not dating, it's been a year, what are the odds that they'd even become friends again, let alone date, or be put in a position where he could have the opportunity to hurt her again? So I really can't figure out why she said that to him. Obviously, as the reader, we know that they're gonna end up together, but from his mom's point of view, she doesn't know that.

Now, for OC. This line got me: "Every day, you chipped away another piece of Jungkook–the more you chipped, the easier it became." And this line is exactly the reason why I think she's moved on more than JK has. Her step by step deletion of his contact in her phone was hard to read. It was sad. And her process showed that she was ready and has moved on. By her calling to hear that disconnection message, it was still a way for her to be connected to him. So by deleting his number, it was her way to severe that last connection. And then she smiled about it, like it was a relief that she was able to overcome her heart and break that last tie. And she was proud of herself. We never learned if JK deleted her contact information.

But then she went and got annoyed at Yuna for not telling her JK returned to Seoul for a few days. And it was written that OC probably would have cut her trip short to come back. So then I was left wondering hmmm, maybe she hasn't moved on as much as I thought. That's why I think she's only moved on slightly more than JK. Like why would she cut her trip short to see him? Is it because she misses him but doesn't want to admit it. Or is it because she wants to prove to herself that she can be in the same room and not have old feelings resurface? Or is it because she wants to see if he's been able to move on more or less than her? We don't know yet. And I'm excited to see what their reactions are to each other when they're finally in the same room together.

As for the LA thing, that's interesting. I really did think they would meet again when he was in Seoul. But it makes sense now what the chapter title for 18 means. He's probably in shock to see her in LA. He'll probably see her someplace completely random. That will be fun to see. But if that's what happens, I like it. I like their reunion possibly happening away from all their friends and family. A neutral setting like LA would remove the pressure that family and friends will put on them. I would like to see their reunion be more private between the two of them, away from prying eyes. This way they have more of a chance to talk things over and work their problems out.

putting this under a cut! <3

could mama jeon be onto something? 🤔 maybe she can predict the future.

I might've posted a teaser a while ago! Lol

jk is clearly still in love with oc and yes, bam is definitely a distraction. he's basically trying not to get his hopes up atp

alex - it was big for her to even apologize to jungkook for what happened in seoul, and who knows if she'll apologize for ruining his relationship. i think she's taking in one step at a time.

oc - i'd say her relationship with jk was a harder one to let go, just b/c she's known him for so long and she has strong ties with his family. it would be hard to basically 'cut him out' of her life completely when she's still bff with his sister. and she's doing her best to move on, but there will be times when she backtracks (two steps forward, one step back).

oc felt cheated out of her choice when yuna didn't tell her. in the moment, she thought she would've been tempted to make an excuse to stay, but it also could've been a moment where she still chose to go. perhaps oc thought it was a missed opportunity to really prove that she had moved on.

btw, i love all your questions and just from my experience, don't we all want to see if we're doing better than our ex? 😅 but it could also be that a part of them still miss one another and they're afraid of seeing the person move on and be happy with someone other than them. (and from jk's pov - it seems like oc is doing better than him).

🫢 yes, the long awaited reunion will happen in LA w/o family and friends around, which I think will be better for both. it'll be a fun chapter for sure 💖💖

as always, i love your thoughts and opinions. i appreciate you!

[factiousfcrged]

so there's something that i want to touch on that's been reiterated a bunch to me in the rereading of a couple of the expanse books when it comes to amos and the way he comes off to others. mostly this applies to those who don't know him that well, strangers, first time people are meeting him or those that just meet him a few times without a lot of time for actual interactions.

this is something that is described by several of the people in his crew even after being part of his friends / crew for decades, they just are used to it and recognize that there's a lot more to him than just what might be first assumptions, but it is still something that they notice sometimes as that odd little bit unsettling but it's just amos being amo type thing and they're just used to it.

it does depend on the situation - if amos is used to being around someone and is being his authentic self, there are genuine smiles and laughs, but a lot of the times when dealing with strangers or people he doesn't know well, the smile that he offers as a blanket 'yeah everything's fine why do you ask' type smile very much gives off that 'uncanny valley' feeling.

this stems from a very specific memory from his childhood, which you can read about in his chapter in the expanse origins comics, where his friend in the orphanage that he was put in after his mother was killed has just come back from his first night of being rented out by the orphanage 'den mother'. he gives amos the oni pin (the one that we see amos wearing for 90% of the show until he loses it in the jail collapse on earth, until peaches makes a replacement pin - he also has a tattoo of it that he's had since the start of the show) and tells amos, 'just keep smiling' -- and then takes a bottle of pills and kills himself, with the panel ending with amos holding the pin in his hand, staring at his friend, with that fake smile plastered on his face.

this was one of the foundational building blocks / core memories of his childhood and something that he calls back to often. just keep smiling. the problem comes in where, after a certain age, he shuts down a lot of his emotions as a defense mechanism and he never really quite learns how to turn most of them on again, so this 'smile' that he offers when he's trying to make everyone think that he's fine, or that is kind of his default expression for when he's stuck in a loop, or isn't sure how he's supposed to react, doesn't have any real connection to 'happy' or even 'congenial' it's just a smile that very much doesn't belong on his face in that moment and doesn't have any real emotion behind it.

those that aren't really great at reading strangers might take it at face value, but the majority of people have enough capability to read human expression and body language to the point that some part of them recognizes that there is a disconnect and that there's something unrealistic or not quite human in that smile and in the way his eyes and body language and everything else don't match up with it. one of the best examples i can give from the show is that look that we see on his face when murtry punches him and he has the wild feral wrath in his eyes and that bloody smile right before the camera pans off before he pummels murtry near to death.

while in most circumstances that animal ferocity and blood isn't actually part of the smile that he shows to people ... most people sense that there's that part of him inside of him that should be showing the feral snarl but instead there's just this empty eyes and this placid smile, ie, a general sense of 'something's wrong here' ie, the uncanny valley feel.

so in short, yes, it is very possible that your character may feel uneasy or feel like they're being backed into a corner etc. even if amos is being seemingly congenial or placid if that's how you want to play it bc a lot of people are going to pick up on that sense of just, something being off, if you want them to!

[ahordeofwasps]

☁️cloudy & 🏝 hurricane for the weather wip asks! (--@space-writes)

Thanks for the asks for the WIP Weather Ask Game!

☁️ Cloudy - What inspired you to start writing your WIP? (or in general)

I'm going to do this one for To Not Falling Off Cliffs as there's a funny story behind its creation.

One day, I'm home alone making mac & cheese, not out of a box, but the kind that you make yourself with pasta, butter, milk, flour, and mountains upon mountains of shredded cheese. This is important. Particularly the milk part of this recipe.

I live in a flat in a multiflat building. By the door, there's an old school landline-esque phone that connects to the buzzer at the building's entrance. It goes off. Thinking it's the postperson trying to deliver mail, I pick it up.

I'm not greeted by the postperson. Instead, I'm greeted by "Hiya ma'am! Do you drink milk?" He's a door to door salesman... selling milk of all things.

I do drink milk. I just used a bunch of milk. But, one thing I've learned, both from my parents and from living in areas with an abundance of seniors and students (often targets of door to door salespeople, particularly ones selling crappy internet deals), is to avoid door to door salespeople and to never ever buy what they're selling. I lie and say, "No."

The salesman persists and asks if my flatmate drinks milk. Now that I'm writing this out, it is kinda creepy how he knew I had a flatmate. Lucky guess, maybe?

"No," I say again and it's truthful this time. Sort of. She doesn't drink milk. She drinks oatmilk.

He then proceeds ask if either of us drink oatmilk.

I lie to him again and tell him, "No."

This repeats for a several different types of milk. Eventually, sounding quite exasperated, he says, "Neither of you really drink milk?"

I lie of course and again, tell him, "No."

He proceeds to ask me if I can let him in so he can try selling milk to my neighbors.

I then tell him one honest thing and say that I don't let in door to door salespeople, before hanging up the phone.

I have peace and quiet for one whole second, before hearing another buzzer go off from somewhere in the building. Thirty seconds later, I hear the distinct ka-chunk of the door to the building being opened. I remember thinking to myself how door to door salespeople were like vampires, needing permission to enter a building and the companies behind them leeching off of those unlucky enough to get swindled by them, bleeding them dry in some cases.

The idea of door to door salespeople being vampires is what lead me to write the first chapter of To Not Falling Off Cliffs, Erika with a K's Rest Day.

🏝 Hurricane - Do you often stick to one WIP and finish it, then move on, or do you bounce between WIPs?

Depends on what stage. Usually during the writing stage I stick to one WIP, however during editing I will bounce between WIPs. This might change however. Also thanks to To Not Falling Off Cliffs, which when I started writing, I thought it would be a short story. I really want to work on Crying Wolf's sequel (tentatively going to be called The Emissary Project) and I don't want to put if off too long, however To Not Falling Off Cliffs has turned out to be a novel. So I'm going to work on both at the same time.

[unreadpoppy]

Poppy's handy guide to fic commenting - by a fic author who struggles with IRL social anxiety

If you follow me, you've probably seen me talking about people leaving comments on fics.

I try not to sound like a broken record about it so to keep it simple: me like comments. Comments help my self depricating ass believe i'm actually good at this. Comments give me dopamine boost. Dopamine boost gives me enough energy to write more fic.

And also, the reason I like leaving and receiving comments it's because it gives me a real sense of connection. A sense of builduing community with other people.

But, I know that commenting can be very intimidating for a lot of folks. There's a lot of people that talk about 'idk what to say' 'what if the author doesn't like it' and I decided to write this little post to help people who maybe want to leave more comments but are apprehensive about it.

And trust me, I know that it can be hard. I got social anxiety and it took me a long time to figure out commenting, but the truth is, most authors will appreciate your comments, regardless of what you say (as long as you're not been an asshat).

So, here's some stuff to help you put organize your thoughts into a nice little comment. Also, I'm gonna type some examples that are slighlty based on real comments I've left on fic, but remember, you can write stuff however you like.

Method 1: Specifics.

Many times when I'm reading a fic, I'll like a very specific scene, or how the author handled a certain subject. Maybe it's the characters dynamic, or maybe just one phrase that completely broke me. Regardless, this is a type of comment where you're gonna focus on that one specific thing you really liked.

If it's a line that you liked, you could quote that line again and add how it made you feel.

Ex.: "In a world where you wouldn't choose me, i'd still choose you" OOF that line BROKE ME/ made me cry

If it's a scene, you could lightly described it.

Ex.: Oh my god, the part where he took her hand and comforted her??? amazing

You could even just copy paste the whole scene you liked and add your own little commentary on it, giving your insight on to what you interpreted (which is something that i've received as comments in the past!)

I like these types of comments because you can go in depth on something you particularly enjoyed a lot, or you can just easily and in a very short manner show a detail you liked. To me, it shows me that whoever wrote the comment was paying attention to the fic and I can see what they really liked about it.

Method 2: Overall

So this is the opposite of the specifics. Maybe the whole fic was just so good, you struggle with poiting out just one thing you loved. In my opinion, the best way to tackle this looks something like this:

Ex.: I love this fic/chapter! The character dynamic, the descriptions, the dialogue, everything was just soooo good!

Ex.: Aaaaa this chapter/fic was amazing, I loved every single part of it!

You can point out a few key elements but you dont have to go into much detail, showing that everything was truly stellar, or you can just go the compliment route . I like these comments because they are short and very sweet, and they give me a lil warm feeling. They're like the little boost that comes in handy.

Method 3: The Simple Ones

These are even shorter but just as sweet. Maybe you loved the fic but can't articulate well. Don't let that stop you from commenting! These will make a writer just as happy because you cared enough to leave something. These comments come in various types.

Like the keysmash

Ex.: Ç0ERHMJ´2¢JIOÇRFNJRKJE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(which can be interpreted as crying screaming throwing up)

The two words:

Ex.: Lovely chapter!

Ex.: Loved this!

Ex.: Amazing work

These are very good at getting the point across that you liked what you read.

Now, remember that when commenting you can go as long or as short as you want. You can give a page lenght in depth analysis on to why this fic is the best work of fiction you ever read or just a simple heart emoji to show the author that you care.

I think the best way to think about commenting is that it doesn't have to be this big thing. Imagine you're just...texting a friend, about something you liked. You can be a little unhinged. Authors are social animals and we crave connection (and also to be able to talk to otherd about our work) and comments are a great way to do that. Like, I guarantee, I try to reply to most if not all comments I get, because I do genuinly want to talk to people about this thing I poured my heart into writing.

So yeah, I hope this helps you guys, and may we comment even more in 2024.

[applecorething]

I saw this review of Slow Productivity via bluesky and I like this review, not sure if i'm going to read the book even though it is short. maybe in time. The three headline principles are thought-jogging enough for me i think

The initial chapters of the book will have many knowledge workers nodding along empathetically, sharing in the sense of exhaustion and overload. Taking inspiration from the “slow food” movement Newport quickly moves into his three solutionary principles: Do fewer things Work at a natural pace Obsess over quality

Obsessing over quality is something i want to do, and of course doing fewer things. i am trying, often failing, to avoid multi-tasking. To not put on a podcast while i make my lunch and instead be present and quiet and allow thoughts to surface. it's been hard to do this while fatigued because no thoughts do surface and it has the feeling of wearing noise cancelling in-ear headphones where there's this loud silence giving me a headache. fatigue sucks man.

I am glad i read this review in part because i got to be linked to this other review of The Burnout Generation. This review isn't as good itself but did sufficiently make me want to read the book that i've reserved it at my library. And it reminded me of Jenny Odell and her book How To Do Nothing, which i've been thinking about since 2017 when i read this essay/keynote which comprises the first chapter of her book. I've also reserved this from my library, she's got 7 copies in the glasgow library system, big up jenny odell massive. The photos and videos really add to the essay i think, and for all Medium has gone to the dogs it really was a nice reading environment when it was able to be all VC funded and pop-up/ad-free.

I return to this essay all the time. I love the section about making art from nothing and into nothing, and the bit about Mierle Laderman Ukeles who is permanent artist in residence at the NYC sanitation department, how repetitive maintenance is the work. I love the connection to her other projects like the bureau of suspended objects. I remember reading and loving the There's No Such Thing as a Free Watch project. It really tickles the like.. modern internet investigative reporter vibe i cherish. (related in this vein: Defunctland feature film abt the disney channel theme - this man tracks down and interviews so many normal people in this niche field)

Through writing this i've just found her recent article in Pioneer Works about collage and this wonderful collaboration using presentations from now out of business startups. There's something i find so funny about corporate presentations, even though they're part of my day job. Something changed inside me when i saw Redesign Your Logo by Neil Cicierega.

[captainlavelle]

Hey y'all:

I’ve decided to put a bow on the blog, which I’ve really enjoyed! Things are getting pretty busy, and I also was primarily keeping track for Rose’s 100th cap/Olympics. 

If you have a minute, I want to share a bit of my gratitude to the players who changed my life:

In a very long story short, the worst years of my life were 2020 and 2021, which is probably the same for many people. I won't go into much detail, but it's taken me three years to see the full extent of how I was dehumanized and manipulated by a few different people in my life.

In the years since, I had been trying to feel something, anything, the worst part being I had known, albeit briefly in the past, what feeling joy was like—the type of joy where you don't need to ask yourself if it's real or not.

I could’ve turned to many things - many bad things. But as you can probably guess, I latched on to the soccer girls, mainly Rose, Sonnett, and Sammy Mewis. I don’t know them personally of course (never meet your heroes btw, although I'm sure they're lovely). I just needed to laugh, smile, stress, and cry, but all in a meaningful way. I did that by watching them play and goof with each other. Their stories are meaningful to me, and I - with hopefully enough boundaries set over the years - worked my way past the pain of my life through them.

I've watched them for four years and since 2022 had yet to miss a WNT match on TV, until Saturday, August 10th of this year. I had a family obligation planned out months in advance, so I could not watch the gold medal match. I kept it together and moments after hearing we did it, the first image I saw was Sonnett, arms raised to the sky, with a facial expression that read "can you fucking believe it?!"

I still think that's the perfect picture because I know her story, and Rose's story, and Sam's story, and my story, so it was more than just a celebratory moment for me, it signaled a culmination of hard work, pain, friendship, kindness, sacrifice, love, progress, and everything in between.

I love the sport, too. I hated it growing up. They changed that for me. There's also something very humble about Rose and her love for the City of Cincinnati. I've never been, but I have been a diehard Bengals fan since I was 7 years old (again, no connection to the city, I just loved the tiger stripe uniforms). Hopefully they win the big one someday, Rose.

So to wrap things up, "joy" isn't necessarily what I've been missing, but it's more so gratitude. A chapter of my life has ended, but I can't say with 100% certainty I would've gotten through it without three strangers who all kick a ball for a living. Thanks to them, thanks to y'all for letting me share this stuff. Much love 🙂

[izbelross]

Por la vida que soy libre

A/N: Welcome back my fellow strangers :D Yesterday I had a hell of a ride on this planet called Earth in a big place called Mexico. It. Was. Awesome. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this second chapter, that is actually the third part of this hopefully ten chapter series. Leave a comment, I'm always wanting to read what you think.

Warnings: violence (kinda explicit) / angst / triple pinning / Fratt being Fratt / fluffishness / panic attacks / swearing / bad words, really, really bad words ;) / reader being a lil' piece of shit (do not mind me, just putting my issues here)

Synopsis: everyone is born with a soulmate (a/n: wouldn't that be mental?) Soulmates can hear their thoughts since childhood, some others up until they're older. This connection only becomes stable when soulmates meet, but as it can be nourished to bloom into something solid it can also be stopped. Soulmates come with a free choice, you don't die without them, you can learn to live with the one of your choice, free will no matter what. Although those who chose their destined ones can coincide in one thing: "You could never regret it". But when you are raised like a puppet of violence, your free will in every aspect of your life seems to have never existed. Along with your chance of meeting the ones destined for you.

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

✨Taglist: @scoliobean @dusstory

Chapter 2

"Solo llorar no es bueno"

"Remember? We were so young back then, no worries, just you and me, me your ignorance that made everything else meaningless. Now look at us, you have gotten older, meanwhile I am here, the same as always, just not for you, baby."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·

"Frank! Where are you!"

His lungs where burning with every jump and landing he made all around Hell's Kitchen, his eyes trying to focus, to gain a little more time to talk to Castle, hear him again wherever he was. "Frank!" Matt was a man that never really thought things thorough, half his choices were done in an instant, which gave him repercussions with time, losing friendships, losing lovers, losing support. All of those time he always felt the right choice was being made. The only truth was his and his only, no other way, no other options.

But we have already talked about destiny, remember?

After bolting out of the firm, with the nagging feeling on his head coming from Frank's mind, he almost goes mad with the amount of fear that blinded him. Castle was far, far away, and the obvious sound of water was the last sound that he received from the other man.

Daredevil came out then, for it wasn't enough for Matthew Murdock to handle losing someone else he cared for, someone he hasn't even had the chance to-

"Matt" Frank whisper almost making him drop to his knees in the middle of a landing, he had to stop himself to breath once, exhale, breath another time and exhale. His constricted lungs making the air travel up to his fogged mind. "Castle, where the fuck are you? What happened?"

"I got- someone attacked me, got rid of'em, so, it's 'kay."

Matt got up again and started running, Frank's voice only a whispered carried by the wind, but strong enough to tell him where his soulmate was. "I'm coming, stay there." Frank's short growling was his only response.

////////o.o////////

You forgot very soon about the weird lawyer and the strange feeling on your chest right after he bolted out the room, and apparently out of the rest of city. "How long?" You have asked Nelson "We will have to continue without him." He answered, and so, you signed the papers without Murdock and continued with your life like nothing had happened.

There was so much that could be done for the next part, with you searching for Erik and trying to reach contact with Charles without really getting anywhere near Canada, where you had a penalty of dead if ever set foot there again. Yelena had almost disappeared, no one of you knew why or where, but you really hoped she was okay.

Sharon was the only one that still held contact with you, from a biper without register on the internet data and the geolocalization from government trackers.

Seating cross ledge on the open field, your closed eyes moved behind your eyelids. You had been meditating for almost an entire week, four to six hours a day without breaks, it was the first safest option to try to speak with Charles.

So far it was being useless.

Back in your mind though you felt it again, a strange impulse to see, not with your eyes, but with that deep hidden part of you that knew you were needed somewhere. "Castle" you heard a murmur and in your state of catharsis the voice became clearer.

"... metal bender or some shit. On the first and second street, near the dumpster, he made the deal to give me his location."

"You can't go on this condition, we don't know what he's capable of and-"

"Red, I honestly don't give two shits about it! I've been hunting these assholes for a long time and I'm not gonna stop now!"

The loud voices made your skin turn warm, they weren't as near threatening but more a sad plea of help and understanding. A pain that got under every fiver and made your hands twitch, wanting to hold to whoever this was and embrace him forever.

"I know! You think I don't give a fuck about it! I care too! You are my soulmate too! I can feel your pain too! And I-" the sound of a groan came out of this softer voice. "I can't lose you, not like this. I know how much pain it gives you, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. I told you I'll help you hunt them down and that's what I'm doing-"

"Listen-"

"You listen here right now! Me helping you with them doesn't mean I'll just sit there and watch you rip yourself apart o let other do it! Do not ask that of me Castle, you know damn well I wouldn't and if it were you in my place, mhpff-"

The muffled sound of a moan flew to you, a private thing that your ears were witnessing and for some reason, it felt like the reason you were listening was because you had to be in this exact moment. And even more, you should be there, seeing with your eyes, your own ears, feeling their warmth that even only their voices could give you.

It felt like a dream, until like every other you woke up like a punch in your gut, the next words freezing your longing.

"Erik Lensherr is the last one of 'em, Red. I'll end him and then all'll be over."

Your eyes flew open. Concentration lost for a solid minute and even when you closed them again, trying with all your might to reach them, it was futile.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!"

Scrambling to your feet, you ran to the hotel you were staying it, the pressure of a really bad thing climbing to your bones.

/////////o.o/////////

"So now we're hunting a Castle and a Red?" Bucky asked while you waited for said men to appear, you didn't know when they were going to be here, or how much of a threat they were capable of, but the way Castle talked about the mutant told you enough to know he wasn't one. So instead of trying to dig for more info, like Sharon at right suggested, you took all your lest heavy weapons, took Bucky and Sharon, sending Sam as a snipper into one of the buildings and camped in the dumpster. After three days and two nights, Bucky was starting to get on your nerves.

"For the twenty fifth time, Barnes, yes, now shut up, please" Sharon answered. Looking through night-goggles. After a few seconds of silence with Bucky cleaning his weapon, she murmured your name softly. "I see two figures coming," you quickly took your own, focusing on the both silhouettes, one was barely lit by the moonlight, he was all clad in red, Red, and the other was bulkier and taller, Castle. "The red one stopped walking."

You didn't dare speak "Shit, that's Daredevil and The Punisher." Said Sam through the comms.

"You've worked with them before?" Sharon spoke, getting her ammo checked and unlocking her three guns. Bucky nodded, "Once, it was enough to know the man is a psycho and the other is no better." You gulped, you knew the reason why you have heard them, still you didn't acknowledge it, you didn't want to. If they were here for one of the most important people in your life, then it would only bring you pain. "They're close tho, they wanna hide it but, i think it's pretty obvious." He moved his chin, like signalling at them and there they were, moving like a unity, Castle kept his gun pointed slightly down, ready to shoot in a movement, and Daredevil kept a steady a few steps behind.

"They probably know we're here, you should go out." Sharon and you shared a look at Sam suggestion. "Daredevil has super hearing or somethin'"

"He's a mutant?"

"Nah, only an enhanced. That's what they told us at least."

"Let's go then." Murmured your blonde friend. You still didn't dare speak and instead opted to put on your mask and yellow goggles. "Why are you-?" You cut in before she could finish.

"Caution." The metallic voice coming through the vents of your mask would suffice. If the man used a mask, he could be any one, he would naturally detect your voice if you ever had had contact. And you weren't risking your privacy, didn't matter if they were your- your- "Ugh, let's go."

"Gentlemen, good night." Greeted Sharon, while coming two steps in front of Bucky and you, her hands relaxed at her side, close enough to grab at her guns, and you and the Soldier fanned behind her slowly, setting a perimeter to reach them as well.

The Punisher and Daredevil were defensive, muscles waiting at the least threat to set into attack mode. When the Devil talked you immediately recognised his voice. Matthew Murdock.

"Splendid time for a walk it seems." The phrase made for setting the contact with Frank's intel flew over all your heads.

"Not so much, sadly." Answered Bucky and in one blink of an eye The Punisher's guns, each in one hand was pointed towards Sharon and Bucky, a little insulting if you admit it, but it was an obvious reaction, they were the only ones with fire guns, yours were just a little less visible.

In automatic, Sharon and Bucky pointed to them as well and the little red dot from somewhere in the far buildings behind, found home at Castle's head. "You'll probably want to put that down, Castle." You spoke and if he or the Devil were surprised with you saying his name or whatever, they didn't show. "If they are already here," Frank thought, "it's probably obvious they know about our names as well."

"A pretty logic thinking, but that could back fire at us if we give away too much info." Whispered Matt to his soulmate's mind.

You looked at the way they stood there, unmoving, without answering. They are talking to each other. And so you decided to play a little, after all, you were trained by the beat liars in the world: If you want to lie, then you have to believe your own lies, they aren't as much but truths, truths you aren't trying to make believe but truths your are informing.

"What would they think of you if they saw you with him, Red?" You spoke and he turned his head a little, Frank's eyes glancing so fast to his partner that you would have missed it, but Sharon and yourself were pretty focused on every inch of reaction. She knew exactly what you were doing. "I don't think Page and Nelson would be so happy about you running around with a murderer."

Aaaand... there it was. Murdock's body stiffen and Castle's head turned to look at him directly.

"What are you doing here?" A smirk played in your lips, he didn't bite.

"Perhaps you don't care too much because, option one: You don't care about them, their reactions." Bucky didn't move at your side, he was probably hearing Sam's breathing, steady and grounding. "Which I doubt from what I've seen." Sharon's multitasking was perfect, pointing her guns at both men, following the chit chat, listening for threats. "Number two: They already know and don't give a shit because they love you." No reaction. "Number three: they've come with you."

Matt Murdock was an impulsive man, as we already know. So it was no surprise that his other face of the coin, the Devil, sometimes took his place to make things, no, not better. Actually worst. That's why he reacted the most stupid way he did.

Frank barely registered when his other stupid half ran straight towards Sharon, who didn't give two shits and shoot to his leg, leaving him screaming on the floor. Frank shoot her but didn't have in mind that you all had more technology from Tony –blessed Tony Stark wherever he is now– and as soon the bullets touched the invisible shield surrounding you, they flew backwards in every other direction.

Surprised filled Frank and terror soon stroked next, when Bucky shifted and shot him straight to his calf, bullet coming out, just like Sharon's bullet to Daredevil.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Screamed Murdock when you approached Frank. You stoped in your tracks and sent him an annoyed glare. "I'm not stupid, double D, calm your nipples."

You crouched down, away from Frank's trembling form and were met by his eyes trying to kill you. "Why are you here?"

"Tha's non of y'business." He answered, barely containing his pained groans.

"It is my business when someone wants to reach my boss." You said, firm pulse containing the lie. He only stared at you for a second but his gaze snapped towards Matt when he tried to move away from an approaching Bucky.

"I have to apply pressure in that leg. Or you'll bleed out." Bucky got closer to Murdock, with Sharon following behind every move. Still Matt didn't dare to speak and for what you could see, Castle was about to scream some more, this time at the soldier.

Murdock nodded one time and Bucky got into action, cleaning the affected area as fast as possible without doing more damage and applying the drying spry for the wound. "And who are they?" Asked the man in red, pointing to you and Sharon with his chin. Sharon didn't waver in pointing at Daredevil nor Castle, not even when Bucky send her a pointed look.

"We're the ones that will end you if you don't answer our questions, man." Replied Sharon.

"Sorry before hand, blonde." Said Murdock.

"Sorry about what?" Before any of you could say something else, Frank screamed "Cristianismo!" Leaving you all weirded out for a few seconds, until Sam spoke through the comms telling you that there were red dots on your backs.

"Well shit." You whispered.

In front of you, Bucky stood still, and you did the same when the voices of unknown people were heard from speakers all around the place.

For a moment Frank knew they were saved, this wasn't the first time someone had shoot them in what seemed a pretty civilised environment, he never imagined that people that used to be part of the avengers would ever wield a gun against someone, not even someone like them. He looked at you, like an unknown force that dare him to lay his eyes on you once, and then twice.

Your mask and yellow goggles didn't let him known for sure your features, not even your hair was visible, but the way you moved, the way you spoke, that was something that got his eye. However, the moment was lost when the voice he was expecting with such conviction, wasn't exactly the one he hoped to hear.

"Well, well, well... look what the fuck we got here."

Soon more red dots appeared in the heads of Castle and Matt, and yours and your friends. And so, a collective "Shit" was heard, it would have been comical, and if Wade was here for sure he would have laughed.

"When I told you to bring the party, Mr. Castle. This wasn't what I meant." A laugh was heard through the speakers and the "meow" of a cat. "Shh, darling, daddy's working. What was I saying? Ah! Yes, yes... yes..." Bucky and Sharon shared a look. In front of them, the injured men didn't move. "Bring my friends to me. Kill the others. Good bye, little flowers!"

"What!"

"Sam!"

"You fuckheads!"

Before the shots could be heard, Sam let go the eon bomb, stopping any kind of energy to run, so the comms turn off, the guns stopped working and the entire lights stopped working. Like about twenty people got out of seemingly nowhere, annoyed as hell, and Matt was the only one that could take notice of their exact spot.

"They are coming from all around us! You all need to leave!" He screamed at your team.

Bucky shared a short conversation with his soulmate, that soon turned into a rippled scream that told you and Sharon enough about what was going on in that building, away from all of you. "I need to go! I need to...!" He didn't even finished his sentence when you and Sharon started to run alongside him, leaving the men laying on the floor who were soon surrounded by their new "friend" and the hanging feeling on your chest that you did something very, very wrong.

But you ignored it, again, and followed your friends to help Sam.

The lights came back as you all were in the building, climbing the first fly of stairs. Outside of there, you couldn't pick a single sound, your forceful puffs of air while trying to get there on time not letting your ears get anything else but the thrumming of your head or the burning in your lungs.

"Sam!" Bucky threw himself through the door, watching his soulmate fighting five people on his own, without a second thought hi got into action and not even Sharon or you, that got there ten seconds after, were fast enough to help. Poor Sam was left standing there right about to punch another fellow that was grabbed by the neck and thrown across the room, the force cracking his skull on the wall and ending him just as fast.

"Wow." Whispered Sharon and you couldn't do anything else but nod with big doe eyes. So powerful was the love, that the heavy feeling from moments ago started to tug to you, like commanding you to go back outside, to help the men that surely were being drag now into a trap.

You were going mad, probably, you weren't a hundred percent sure, but when you realised the "I need to follow them" phrase came out of your mouth and stumbled through the door running down the stairs and jumping three at a time, you were already helping Castle and Murdock kick the shit out of the ten people left in there.

Both of them saw you running to help. But in very different ways. Frank was there, watching over the shoulder of the man he was literally kicking to death, you sprinting towards another that was pointing directly at Matt and how in one flying kick you broke his spine. The bullet flying in the opposite direction. You turned to look at him and Frank send you a nod, which you reciprocated.

Matthew was another story. He first heard you with clarity, like his ability to identify Frank's footsteps had suddenly expanded towards yours, with only meeting. Although he knew, he wasn't completely sure, but he had the suspicion that he had already heard the compass of your walking. After spotting you around them, he could smell your adrenaline, the sweat that clung to your body and the aroma that told him exactly who you were, and, for his own shame, his foot almost slipped with the revelation.

Like transported for a mili second, he was back on the day you were on his firm with the Soldiers. It was definitely you, and now he knew, he fucking knew for sure, Barnes and Wilson were two assholes that deserved to have a good ass kicking for shooting them both. And you for acting all so incapable of harming someone. Not like he wasn't doing the exact same thing but, you get the point.

"Castle! At your left!" The man followed your warning, dodging a punch with a metal bar that opened his chances to strike at his attacker and left him unconscious.

A couple more minutes after. The fight was over, leaving you three gasping for air and hurting in many places.

The mental fight began between Frank and Matt. Like always, there was the pull that dared them get closer. To get to help each other, care for each of their wounds in the gentle manner and un-judging way a soulmate can. First assessing in mentality, asking themselves if the were damaged beyond scraped, cuts or punches. But when their closed banter was starting, your voice shut them up inmeadiatly, lulling them instead into paying you close attention. Like dogs who are in the middle of being defensive and wanting to trust.

"You two look like shit." They didn't answer and you took that as a good sign. What are you doing down there, Y/N? You ignored Sam's voice through the comms. "I have medical supplies that can help you but first we need to get out of here."

"I assume you have more questions at hand, don't ya' sweetheart?" Frank took a step closer to you, at his side, the other man was a little unsure.

"Y/N?" Looking at Murdock you could only nod, Castle didn't look surprised. "Why? I mean-" he licked his lips, a question hanging heavy between you three. "I can tell you whatever you want to know if, only if you come with me. After all," your eyes settled in Castle's with a heaviness to them that his breath got stuck on his throat. "I have questions of my own, darling." His adan apple bobbed and you knew you had him right where you wanted.

You eyes twinkle with the knowledge that these men here, right there in front of you were probably trying to hunt down the most important man in your life, you were going to do whatever the shit was needed to stop them, even if you had to fight them, kill them and die trying.

But then... then you heard it.

"I don't like this, Red. They just shot us!" You could swear that the big man lips didn't move and you could swear that....

"HOLY SHIT!" You and Matthew flinched at the same time when he screamed, his almost always controlled voice getting louder and louder, both in your heads and in the outside.

"Did you just speak in my head!" Joining to his string of curses he took a step closer to you and even if he kept on murmuring obscenities no one could deny the look of amazement on his irises. "You are- are there, right there- here."

It felt weird. Not like finding something you have been searching for, not quite like it but close enough.

You were your entire everything before this moment. Like there was no other someone that was waiting for you or you were waiting for. The parts of you that were full, didn't suddenly got to make space for two split souls you just encounter, no, no. On the contrary, it's like you expanded, like the world you lived in, your little you suddenly decided that here, tight now, those two men right there were an extension of you.

A void that has never been a void. A void that is still a void ob blackness that is you, a darkness so deep that makes you what you are because it can mold, it can reflect the light that wants come inside it and make it its own and now, now there were two more voids that were, that are, to make you company.

"I can feel your head spiralling." Chuckled Murdock, just not out loud, and it was a different voice, something softer, something like silk that ran through your sensitive fibres, making your last cell purr in pure extasis. "Dear mother of fucking christ." Frank let out a loud laugh with your mumble that made an echo inside of you, waves that slowly formed with the deep sound of one of your soulmates.

"Welcome to the club."

For seconds that got longer and longer you three stood there, not knowing what to do but more so hearing each others rush of thoughts. The "And now what?" "What do we do?" "This is soooo fucked up."

Honestly you couldn't blame them, your own mind made you believe that you were dreaming, like your body was there but you were watching everything from the outside.

"I-" Murdock got interrupted by the sounds of many screeching cars near the place, the reality of the situation came crashing down again in all of you.

This wasn't the most preferably moment to have an encounter. "We have to move" whispered Frank on his head and there you went. The comms going off with the soft bump of someone crashing them and fear started to creep to you. You could hear both of the men in your head, telling you to keep running, even if you were ahead of them and they could barely stand on their not so healed legs.

Still, you didn't let on your speed, jumping over the fence even with the sudden gunshots going off all around you, lights that didn't quite reach any of you but that surely would have had if only you were slower.

You didn't went back to the point of encounter with your team, not daring to bring back more danger than was already ahead of them. Letting your chaser follow you to the deep forest far north of the place. "Cheers for American random forests" you thought. "Not time for joking, kid." Frank's mind answered to you.

You only kept running, to the thickest of the forest.

Looking to Frank getting a car engine started you thought in all the ways he could do the work faster. How he was making it all the more complicated way and how you knew different tactics for that, Castle only spared few quick glances at you, grunting low every now and then.

Matthew was far away, doing his god knows what, but for the newly connection his string of curses to the paperless toilet was pretty clear.

"Got it." The man in black finally got the engine purring steadily, "Hurry up before we leave you here, Red."

Not you nor him dare to glance at each other, he kept his gaze looking through the front glass and you through the copilot window.

You didn't know what you were doing. Going along with them and helping them buy stuff from the pharmacy was like playing to the fucking doll house. Many questions hanged from your mind, they were there and they could read them. Each one of them and yet, they all went ignored. Castle only looked at you in few occasions, not daring to share, not daring to ask.

Murdock just stood into his playful self of pure Daredevil. Joking once in a while and sassing you and Frank with every step you took. But behind all that you could sense that this wasn't new for them. Being defensive. Unattached.

It was a match were even if you happened to be a new player, knew the rules very well and followed them to the letter. After all, Yelena and Natasha and yourself used to be like this. Unapproachable but making believe the world mattered when in reality it was far from it.

And now this two men were like you were years ago. Before meeting and joining the Avengers. Emotionally constipated.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Castle looked at you through the mirror, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Just speaking my mind, man. Can't even do that?" Snorting he looked away to an approaching Matt.

There was no point in stoping the conversation when Murdock entered the back seat, so you didn't dare not answer when Frank continued talking, "Your sisters?" A lump formed in your throat and he glanced at you briefly, an intensity heavy of understanding, even if it were only few seconds, for your damaged soul it was warm enough to lit a fire your years. "Yes"

That was the only thing you answered. Frank nodded and a quiet pat on your shoulder was given by Matt.

For the next half an hour no more words were exchanged, just images that flew past from them to you and vice versa.

"I thought we lost them!" You wheezed, Murdock hanging for dear life to the edge of a cliff, Frank panting at your side and like you grabbing the terrified hanging man from one arm to pull it towards yourselves.

Far away the crashing sound of the car still echoed all around the hills, a coming explosion throwing black smoke that would take time to evaporate away.

Matt was clutching your and Frank's hand, his eyes blinking, moving one side to another trying to make out your faces in all of the infernal world he was able to see. Your right hand clutched his t-shirt from the back and your forehead rested on his cheek, sending images of the ocean, the sound of the waves, the smell of the refreshing salty weather.

Frank's hand didn't let go of Murdock's but he didn't got close either, preferring to observe you both, a coming and going of soft reassurances and quiet terrified exhales. He had never been this touchy –if you could call that to holding the wrist of someone so hard to almost leave imprints– with anyone, not after Maria and more strange even, with Red. Knowing that you could someone, that the mere chance of it was about to happen a few seconds ago was enough to not let go of his hand and in exchange Matt gripped his even harder.

You could feel his eyes on you, so you took a peak over Matt's shoulder and there, Frank's little smile, without hesitancies, without awkward feelings.

A tenderness washed over you, this men were just as troubled, just as confused even after years of having each other. But you, you had that question still in you, that nagging part that didn't let your open perspective go over all the details, the changes that were already blooming.

You let yourself enjoy, just for a little bit more. A bittersweet memory of Matt's shaking figure and Frank's frantic eyes, the warmth enveloping your bones.

"Why were you searching for Erik Lensherr?"

The travel by car had come to a stop with said car falling of a cliff and exploding at the bottom. There was nothing left of the supplies, you could fantasise that you made it out of the way from the "secret friend" of Castle, the stupid prick of a soulmate that was now hanging from a post, his hands over his head, prickling from lost of blood.

It wasn't surprising that after trying to fight the men that got you against the edge of the mountain you wouldn't be able to over power them. Fighting five each and being to tired to go against the rest of them, almost like twenty more. More and more you try to grab sand in your fist, the more it slips between your fingers until everything went dark.

So here you were now, hanging from a post, the same way as Murdock and Castle, hands over head tied together and aching ribs.

They didn't need to look to deep into your mind to see the memories barely contained of your days with Erik, the good ones and some dark ones that you let slip. It was hard trying to block them out, but you were a fast learner.

Matt took a long breath and sighed tiredly, this wasn't going to end well. "I have very strong suspicions that your beloved Magneto helped in murdering my family." Frank locked eyes with you, a strong feeling behind them, something you knew very, very well.

Revenge.

But you couldn't believe such a thing, maybe a little, Erik after all used to have many enemies, and getting rid of them was a speciality of his but, you were there looking at Frank giving you the bomb of information that some stranger gave him. "How you know this friend of your isn't lying?"

Matt grumbled a little, his tied extremities starting to get itchy. "Probably should talk some other time." Nor you or Castle spared him a glance.

"I trust him, he had some pretty logical reasons." Even with five meters separating you from each other and the barely lit room you could see his eyes setting on stone, getting defensive. Squinting your eyes you didn't dare think about something else but what you were about to ask. "And that's it? You think that because someone know simple things about you that make them trust worth it?"

"They aren't simple things," Frank seethed through greeted teeth "And no one-" he looked at you, Lensherr was someone you cared about, someone you were right now defending, you. He didn't know you, he had never hoped but for life to give him a glimpse, a single second of being with his other soulmate even if it was just a glimpse through a crowd street and no more. Right now tho? He was starting to regret it, mainly because his soulmate was talking back at him in pos of one of the murderers of his family, his children, his wife.

Matt inclined his head, his brain starting to pound with the mental battle, the conclusions so fast running from one mind to another. The mask off his face only made it better for you and Frank to watch the worried barely contained expression, but it's not like any of you two would lose the staring battle.

"Are you defending him?" The words were spitted out his mouth, and it would have made you flinch, the anger behind them and the promise of something that probably would never get fixed. His heart got into a steady rhythm on his chest, like when he was calculating the perfect angle for shooting. You with your vulnerable position just like him and a lot of alone time but not enough time all in the same moment, just closed your mind, he didn't care. "What if I am?"

There it was.

Frank Castle rejoiced a few hours ago, when your connection got stable, when Red and him woke up first than you and he was able to look at your face ridden of that mask and glasses. A gorgeous sight even in the fucking cell they were. His chest wanted to have you close, the longing was there and he knew with a little more time, just like what happened with Red and him, you three would find a peace in your daily lives.

But he had forgotten about Erik Lensherr and the way you had pronounced his name, with a voice that had behind curiosity, caution, even fondness, and then the world was clear from the high of being reunited.

He shook his head, not believing, not wanting to believe, "You're not better than him."

Pain crushed your mind, a feeling not so foreign for you. Many times back in the red room they had tried to cut your connection, prolonging the mental pain and allowing the suffering to clean you from the bond that hadn't bloom at that time. It would have surprised you that he wouldn't dare to break the connection "Castle, stop right now, don't you fucking dare!" Matt revolved against the chains, his body wanting to get closer to his soulmate crying soul, both of you were lashing against each other and he wasn't sure if he agreed with you or him, he just couldn't .

Frank's lost had been –and still was– a wound that wouldn't close, it wasn't bleeding or infected. The pus had been cleaned and patched but the stitches would reopen every now and then, right after the anniversary of their deaths or when they encounter people left that knew about the most minimal detail, no matter how insignificant it was.

Now tho, he could feel again the blood going straight to his head not allowing him to think of anything beyond the rage, the misery and so before any of you could speak the door opened reviling him.

"What is this my eyes see? A hound? A wolf?" He looked at you, the incredulity shining in your eyes. For more than ten years you- you believed that- "A little kitten perhaps?" His white teeth were left in sight when he smiled, a face you recognised so well from the memories, from nightmares.

"(Y/n), look at me, look at me." The man in front of you continued talking, Frank's voice reaching your ears as well, his menacing tone but not quite understanding anything beyond this monster getting near you and the feeling of his cold hands on your face. "Focus on me, sweetheart, please, focus on my voice. I need you to breath." Matt was pleading, your memories going in all directions for him and Castle, the man still talking to him, to them, touching your face like a lover would and you there just unmoving, with the edge in your mind that got their ears with a numb noise, just like years before, when they knew about your existence.

It was maddening, seeing you there so close again, and they were unable to do anything.

Frank's rage went below the surface, his own pain coming back, the guilt of not being capable of helping in the right time. "Do not fucking touch them! I swear I would end your fucking life!"

Matt's hands buckled against the restrains, his wrists going lax and slowly trying on disarticulating his union with the thumb.

"Erik Lensherr!" Screamed Frank at the man in front of them and Matt stoped his movements looking at Frank like he had grown a second hand. "I am talking to you stupid fucker! Look at me!"

The man caressing your trembling form chuckled without no care he looked back at them. "What do you mean Erik Lensherr?" Asked Matt, not knowing the fuck was going on "Frank, that's not Erik Lensherr."

"Look at him! What do you mean-?" A piece of metal wrapped around his throat, or at least, that's what Frank felt, shutting up inmeadiatly and stretching his neck.

"This is a vision" screamed Matt, your head trying to comprehend and trying to even your breath "He's not real!"

"Dear Matty," an old voice that made his blood run cold came out of the man, Matt couldn't distinguish him, the unusual movement around him, the cackling fire not settling but forming a mass of savage oranges and furious reds. "You're still weak, caring too much, hanging onto useless feelings, kid."

"Well shit." You whispered, the spell of a nightmare going right against Murdock and Frank letting you breath and your mind to clean. "What are you?" You asked. Frank looked at you, too stunned to speak with the flow of memories from Red, you were barely resisting the urge to scream at the thing in front of you. "What are you?" You asked.

"Stick is dead, he is dead, he is dead." said Matt like a mantra, repeating it over and over until he could believe it, until the voice of the old man was lost to his ears and he focused instead on your voice, your questions, the fast beatings of Frank's heart. One of his hands was still on the tight grip of the handcuffs, the other aching and gripping hard to his still trapped wrist, he focused on that pain as well, better than the rage he felt for the last man he almost got to consider family and all the complicated relationship he build around them.

"I am simply a friend of yours that offers an answer for your questions." He spoke to Frank this time and again you couldn't believe that he was trusting this... this thing. "You wanted to know something, I happen to know what you seek for, but every knowledge has a price, what would you give me in return?"

"Don't you dare, Punisher, don't you fu-" your throat got caught by an imaginary metal as well, not that you were able to discern between them, for it felt to real.

Castle looked at you, both between the sword and wall and your warnings ringing high on his head, your whispered angry warnings on his mind "What do you want?" Matt's head moved in his direction and the bubbling anger just got deeper in you.

"I want... I want..." The copy of Erik sing sang, prolonging the vocals and getting nearer to Castle. "You'll have to give me something powerful and old, something strong, yes, yes..." taking a knife out his pocket, you and Matt bristled and screamed when he cut the vest covering Frank's chest. He didn't even care, only looking at the image of Erik in front of him, he didn't care when the bullet proof vest fell to the floor, or when the knife cut through his black clothing, showing his chest. "When you find it, when you take it. You'll bring it to me and your debt will be payed."

A heartbeat pass between your eyes boring into Frank's skull, his closed mind to you not letting the very furious words reach him and Matt's pleas for Frank to don't do it, not accept.

But even if he glanced at both of you he didn't dare refuse "Agreed." The monster in front of your eyes smiled at Frank while rapidly cutting an 'x' on his left pectoral, a hissing came out his mouth and suddenly the cuffs on his wrists and ankles weren't there anymore, letting him to fall to the floor clutching his newly mark chest and that monster disappeared between yours and Matt's swearings and worried screams.

Both of you fell hard to the floor, the room around you disappearing, the poles were no where in sight, the place turned into greens, and mountains and the smell of burning gas and you were again at the edge of the cliff, the car far below you and the sound of cars getting far away from you, through the forest road started to ground you.

For two minutes Matt and you were dumbfounded, "Son of a bitch!" You screamed. "It was an illusion" Murdock scrambled on his knees to you and took your face into his hands, it was rough, the movement of his fingers checking the places the monster touched you. Looking at him, you took his hands away from your face and both got up, running to Castle's whining form on the dirt.

His vest was on him, as well as his shirt but still he clutched his chest, sobbing in a terrible burn that was slowly fading.

With desperation he but tear away his vest and pull down the neckline of the black clothe.

You all sat there, flabbergasted racing hearts that didn't stop you from reaching out and roaming your fingers over the scar in form of an 'x', Frank looked at your hand, tracing the lines that should be hurting, following your arm with his eyes and finding your neck he checked from his spot that your neck wasn't hurt.

Then he looked at Matt, that had a hand on his right shoulder, wandering eyes focusing between him and you. "That was- it all..." his voice barely heard with the wind of the small mountain.

"Yeah." Matt answered.

The sound of an alarm startled you, your minds too tired to take precautions just turned at the forest behind your back and Frank's.

There sat like it was normal a smartphone. Left with the distinguishable tone of an alarm.

Matt got up and offered his hand to you, helping you on your feet while Frank ignored you two and walked to the device waiting for him.

Picking it up and turning off the alarm the screen had a text for image, "We have a deal, check notes, check documents."

"You are so fucked, Castle. I swear..." you murmured.

He was too occupied reading the notes with the date of delivering of what he promised and the place. And then documents with the next stop of Erik Lensherr, his weaknesses, his contacts, his past and his friends.

Frank looked at you, then at Matt a few steps ahead, poetically between you, "I'm not gonna stop 'til s'dead," you knew that, of course you knew, not even a few hours ago you met but his entire life wasn't going to change only because he had you or Matt. You looked at the man between you. His body stiff and surprisingly you heard Frank in your mind as well, reading as fast as he could, generally, through the pages and pages, photos.

"I can't let you hurt him."

" I know." He put the phone on his back pocket and walked to his vest on the floor, picking it up.

"I'll help you find him." You said while watching how he strapped it to his chest and how his hands trembled with your words.

Matt had a sense of deja vu, having being in your place a few weeks ago and for the fleeting cloud of uneasiness at Frank's mind, he knew he wasn't the only one.

Frank Castle stood on all his height, arms limp on each side of his body, rigid shoulders but with strangely soft eyes. "When I find him, I'm gonna kill'm"

You took a step forward, Murdock trying to keep a level headed thinking, not focusing on the many possibilities where you trying to save Lensherr leaded to Frank having to hurt you, or worst.

"I know."

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[thespianinthebackcorner]

Oh boy here we go! Time to pull out the old Hoyolab post I made on it. I've got a few, some of em are a bit old but they're all my favourites.

Avalanche by PaganKieth

Disaster strikes Dragonspine, endangering Sucrose and Albedo. The Knights of Favonius work against the clock to try to rescue them and Aether can only hope they find the alchemists alive, as he has a confession to give to Albedo...

A well-written, solid mound of hurt/comfort, there is minor/implied kaeluc but really it's not that big of a deal and easy to read as platonic so don't worry about it. Hurt-comfort may be putting it lightly, as it's more "Shredding the MC's to pieces and them putting each other back together again."

beloved by aetherxals

albedo embarks on a journey to mend his broken heart, but his time is running out.

set in a land of fairies, wizards and magic.

Fluff and angst, a little implied smutty content but I have no clue where it is it so it's clearly not that much. A work in progress featuring Wizard Albedo as a main character. From the looks of it we're in for a long ride, (7 chapters already) but it's really good, so give it a shot if it's your kind of thing. Can't say too much because of spoilers, but it ties in a lot of familiar characters in in really interesting ways.

The chalk-white red aether between us by Vievin

Shortly after waking up from his five hundred years of nightmares, Aether discovers a string on his finger. It doesn’t seem to lead anywhere, yet.

Now, it will always lead him home.

A very sweet Red String of Fate story in the canon world. For the unknowing, the "String of Fate" trope involves a string around the fingers of the two shipped characters in question, connecting when they meet and forever leading in the other's direction. It's a really sweet trope that is a little rare but always enjoyable. This particular story easily slides into the canon storyline and is written from Aether's POV.

life itself by underthethousandstars

A visitor appears at Albedo's door in the middle of the night in desperate need of help.

A oneshot with some injury description (the tags say body horror but i don't really think it's descriptive enough to count) that comes from Albedo's POV. If you love seeing your MCs absolutely shattered and shredded to pieces, it's Avalanche and this one that you wanna read.

to paint your portrait by TallowCat

modern au albedo art student can't stop drawing aether

A sweet modern au whose entire cast is the boyfriends and their sisters. If you like it when the boys lose their cool and start stuttering then this is one for you.

Albedo Fluff [Literally] by Peikoe

Albedo’s experiment doesn’t go as planned, leaving him with a few cat-like features — and Aether is there to [kindly] bully him for it.

If you're the kind of person who enjoys a some catbedo shenanigans every now and then (and honestly same, it's too cute) this is one of the best ones out there. It's part of an ongoing series, but this is the first one. And, of course, as he is wont to do, Albedo shuts himself in his lab, so if you like Aether getting his priorities right and using sweets as a way for his bf to let him in, then you're in for a treat.

Permission Slip by keenbean

Klee invites Aether to the Knights of Favonius headquarters for an interrogation. Everyone is confused.

Pretty much exactly what the description says. This one's best left undescribed cause it's a great oneshot that really needs to be read for the full effect. I swear it won't disappoint.

Winter Solstice by bookofstars

Albedo finds himself alone on Dragonspine during the winter solstice this year. As he reflects on his relationship with Aether, he suddenly gets an unexpected visitor.

A nice oneshot that takes place just after the Akitsu Kimodameshi event. I don't want to spoil and it's very short but let's just say the tags involve marriage proposal for a very good reason. Also, Albedo talking like a psychologist to his boyfriend will never fail to make me smile.

This is just a list of the ones I found that don't seem all that popular. Of course, around AO3 are also masterpieces written by authors like Oripoke and others, but these ones are the small ones that I like. Of course, if you like the big ones that may take a while, then I recommend Festering Desire series by Oripoke, Show Me Your Starlight by LaserDragon,

A splinter of glass by MaximillianDelirium and Project Kreideprinz: Artificial Humanity by Kurobee, (which does have an explicit chapter somewhere in the middle, chapter 7 I think, the tags are inaccurate, but it's skippable and if you skip it you don't miss anything plotwise.) Anyway all the fics on this list made my spine stop spining and I essentially turned to sentient liquid which is a very good thing so give them a read if you like. And yes, I have commented on nearly all of these, it's how I show my love

Albether nation please...... please give me some fic recs....

Please I miss my two blond boys so much......

[stxrrdust]

Okay so hear me out here. I know I'm connecting two really different fandoms here but I can clearly see a parallel between Zeke and Eren from Attack on Titan and The Darkling and Alina from Shadow and Bone. Actually, the similarity in the way their relationships work is uncanny.

For people who haven't read the books let me briefly get you all caught up. So, we're set in a world where people can either have powers and summon stuff or be normal and not have powers. There are multiple and different powers, not relevant here, but their leader is basically this one dude called "The Darkling" who has the ability to summon the darkness and do despicable things cause he's a monster. Summoning the darkness is said to be the strongest summoning there is, BUT it's opposite, the sun summoning, is just as strong.

Now, this is a spoiler for the end of the books but the darkling is thousands of years old so he's had an incredible amount of lifetime to practice and perfect his power.

The only set back? Back in his early days his power got out of control and he created the shadow fold. A huge piece of land covered with shadows and monsters living inside. During the first book, his whole thing is his need to find his opposite power and destroy the shadow fold (cause obv, you can't destroy fire with fire now, can you?).

Now let's go to Alina. Alina grows up as an orphan with her childhood bestfriend Mal (as normal people). At some point, around 18yo, she is forced to go to war and work as a cartographer, her unit working for the darkling while they're entering the fold. Things unravel fast and Mal almost gets killed so Alina subconsciously, unleashes a huge power just to protect him.

Now did you guess it? Alina is the sun summoner!! The only one with power strong enough to challenge the darkling. Long story short, The darkling takes notice of her and he takes her to her palace to work her power and eventually help him "destroy" the shadow fold.

Now let's go to the main part, their relationship

The darkling keeps Alina for himself. He motivates her to practice her powers and eventually help him conquer the fold. Without realizing, Alina falls in love with him and he becomes all pedo and really possessive cause she's what like 18? and he's what like 3thousand? Now, anyway, the darkling treats Alina as an equal (as he should). He gets emotionaly vulnerable with her acting all amazing caring person.

spoiler!

he's not.

In reality he's had an awful childhood, always on the run, manipulated by her mother. Horrible mother to begin with but does that excuse his actions. Well, no. Not to me. At least not all of them.

Anyway let's move on. The Darklinf manipulates Alina into working with her. Now don't get me wrong, the Darkling is Thousands of years old and I get that he wanted Alina cause he felt the loneliness but omgg COME ON NOW YALL.

By the end of the first book, The Darkling has successfully put Alina under his command by putting on her an amplifier to control her power..

Surprise surprise HE is the bad guy. (omg now way how could he)

Noone is surprised that an emotionally manipulative narcissist is the bad guy.

Turns out he only wanted her to expand the fold and kill more people not destroy it. OHHHHHH yeah makes so much more sense tbh.

Now let's connect all that to Eren and Zeke

idk if you get where I was going with this cause I'm awful at explaining but I haven't finished the anime isn't finished so I don't exactly know what goes on the next chapters (should I read the manga? hmm maybe I will honestly)

But let's briefly connect everything

Protagonists- Eren, Alina

Antagonists- Zeke, The Darkling

Zeke The Darkling

- Awful Childhoods ✔ ✔

-Manipulated the only person ✔ ✔

with the power to help them

-Became close with them by ✔ ✔

calling out to the relationship they had with them

-Started out as a noble cause, ✔ ✔

ended up betraying them anyway

-Cared about them. Or did they? ✔ ✔

- Only cared about their. ✔ ✔

power, not them themselves

There are way more parallels and things to analyze but I really gotta go study so yeah imma drop it for now.

ALSO read shadow and Bone yall or my favorite, "Six of Crows" by Leigh bardugo.

They are genius books and Leigh is fucking amazing

[maplecornia]

chapter 15

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.04K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: these next few chapters i really like, they're a LOT of connection time between tae and yen. plus idk why but since a majority of this chapter happens in the rain it just makes it ten times SPOICIER

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo

They leave you behind.

As you watch them go, you can't help but be reminded of that which you have lost. The sight of their hand linked together shocks you with a pain deep in your heart. Ignoring the lump turning in your throat, you bat away your memories, and try to rise and wave goodbye.

Keyword….TRIED.

“Oh, no you don't,” Taehyung says as he pushes on your shoulders, sitting you back down.

You plump down on the wall, tilting your head up to glare at him. He meets it with a look of his own, before slowly bringing the ice up to his face, and grinning almost manically. You roll your eyes, leaning back, and he chuckles, positioning himself on the ground with the ice.

“So, what were you telling those kids anyway?”

You sigh, taking out your sketchbook once more as he tries his hardest to open the bag. You only need one pencil at the moment to finish the drawing, so as you bring it out, you smother your smile at his struggle, resisting the urge to mutter karma underneath your breath.

“Nothing much….just a story they asked me to tell.” You explain, not wanting to draw attention to your drawing or have him looking at it any closer than he has to. There’s something about him looking into it, about him seeing what you can see that scares you.

“Are you okay?” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you blink, looking up at him, and finding his eyes mere inches from yours. His hand rests on your knee as he pushes himself up to meet your gaze, his long dark eyelashes fluttering as he blinks. As you slowly nod, he pulls away, chuckling. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Nowhere. I was just...spacing out I guess.” You say, shrugging it off, and resuming your preparation. You twirl your pencil in your hand, smirking as Tae finally opens the bag, the contents inside spraying out in an explosion. He lets out a surprised splutter, and you release a small laugh before turning away and starting your lazy task of filling in the last minute details of your work.

He brings some of the ice out of the massive bag and places it inside one of the many plastic Ziploc bags he had hidden in his backpack. Why he has Ziploc bags in there, you don't know, but who are you to judge when you have “emergency towels” in yours? Once he closes the bag, he turns to your foot, which you have delicately placed over your right leg to rest it. He reaches for it, but hesitates, looking up at you.

“Ummm...may I? That is to say, is it okay if I….ummm…” he asks a bit uncomfortably, and you raise your eyebrow at him over your sketchbook, smirking a bit just to tease him. He doesn't move, his hand held in an awkward hovering position over your foot, and you try to resist the urge to laugh at the uncomfortable look on his face.

“I suppose. That is if you don't mind the stink.” You remark, and he wrinkles his nose at you. You chuckle as he turns away, preparing to pull off your shoe.

He zips down your wedge and pulls it off of your foot, gently. Almost as if you were Cinderella. As he pulls off your shoe, setting it beside the rest of the ice, he makes a big show of how “stinky” it is, pinching his nose. You laugh, hitting him on his arm, and he laughs too, flinching away.

“I’m just joking! I'm just joking!!!” he cries, laughing before you end your attacks, giving him the stink eye. It's pretty futile, considering you can't stop the grin from spreading on your face.

As he works, examining your leg, his hands explore the space between your calf and your foot. With a soft touch, they tenderly search for any sign of swelling, anything that might indicate a trip to a hospital, or something worse than a mere bruise.

As they touch the space between your tights and your foot, where the material breaks and his soft fingers brush over your bare skin, a shudder passes through you. Your heart accelerates, and you can feel it as your face flushes beet red. Immediately, you hide behind your sketchbook, clenching your eyes tightly shut. You try to tell yourself to ignore it, that they are just fingers, just the touch of someone who's trying to help you out.

However, the fact that they are his fingers, the fact that it is his touch, refuses to be ignored. Finding your breath has come short, you glance at him, hoping that he hasn't noticed. Thankfully, at the moment, he is too distracted by his inspection.

Eyebrows furrowing in concentration, he decides to pull off your sock to get a better look, this time not even asking your permission. As he does, you hiss in pain, his fingers passing over a tender spot on your ankle. He immediately stops moving his hands, flinching off you as he looks up.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks softly and you shake your head, pulling back a bit and swallowing hard. Now you're worried, you didn't think it would be this bad.

“Can I…?” he inquires, gesturing back to your leg, where his hand rests carefully underneath your ankle. You nod mutely, swallowing hard, as you set your drawing aside and position yourself securely on the bench. You brace yourself for the next time he touches you, pulling the sock completely off and setting it inside your wedge beside him.

This time when you feel the sting of pain, you merely wince, sucking in a small intake of breath. He looks up at you, as though asking if you're okay, and you shake him away. He nods before inspecting your ankle. As he angles your foot to the side, your eyes widen at the sight of your ankle.

Curse that damn suitcase.

When you fell, you felt your ankle twist beneath you because of the suitcase behind you, but you didn't imagine it would have this much of an impact.

The entirety of your outside ankle is discolored, a mixture of blues, purples, and dark greens to show you that it is a bruise. It's begun to swell, turning into an ugly injury, one that you can't possibly walk on. When you tried to walk earlier, you only made it worse, making it swell and discolor; hardly giving it any time to heal. Your tight shoe put only more pressure on it, which didn't help matters.

“Taehyung….”

“I told you.” His voice is soft, but you can hear the frustration behind it. The anger which makes his words sting, which makes you wince. As he looks up at you, you can see the irritation clear on his face. Accusing you, forcing you to admit that you were wrong.

“Why didn't you listen to me? Now….” he breaks off, shaking his head as he swallows hard and picks up the Ziploc bag of ice. You stay silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to apologize for your pride.

Taehyung carefully wraps your leg in the ice, bringing out the athletic tape he keeps in his backpack. Truth be told, he had almost forgotten that he had it with him. He silently thanks Jungkook for convincing him to carry athletic tape with him. Who knew that he would have to use it to treat an injury that a stupid girl refused to treat herself?

Watching you do this to yourself...

It's almost as though he were watching Jungkook tire himself out to reach perfection.

As though he were watching Jimin starve himself, or work himself to exhaustion because he never believes himself to be enough.

As though he were witnessing JHope sacrifice his happiness just so that everyone else can be happy.

As though he were watching Namjoon and Suga work so tirelessly to produce their music, just to make it as perfect as they believe it should be. Sometimes sleeping at the studio, or staying awake through the night.

It’s even worse when he sees Jin in you.

When he sees how you give everything up. How you give yourself up just because you’re trying to hold everyone else together. Just because you’re trying to hold yourself together. Just so that you won’t break. You feel as though your pain is nothing, as though you are nothing compared to everyone else and that to fix yourself, you have to save others.

Tae sees that in Jin every day.

All because he wants their happiness over his.

Tae hates that.

It's almost as if, watching you, he were watching his friends waste away just so that they can succeed in a life that won't last forever.

It angers him, that he can't protect them from a pain that isn't so easily cured.

Now...he's feeling the same anger towards you.

You regard Taehyung with wary eyes, watch as he secures the Ziploc bag around your ankle with athletic tape. Something he had randomly in the simple black backpack which rests on his shoulders. He has to make at least two more bags of ice before your entire ankle is covered, the ice offering a sweet relief from the pain you were experiencing before.

You have to refrain from letting out a deep sigh of relief as it immediately begins to erase the pain, but you manage, biting your bottom lip softly. He nods in satisfaction as he finishes, letting your leg rest gently back on the ground. As he finishes, his eyes rise to yours.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, and he looks away, as though reminded of why he was mad at you. His hands release your leg and he gathers all the materials he used to help you out, starting to put them away. You continue, trying to explain yourself, as though that will somehow make things better. “I guess I didn't want to trouble you, I didn't mean--”

“Why?” His question is soft, but immediately cuts you off.

“What do you mean?” you ask him, as he puts away his supplies and scoffs.

“Why was it such a problem?” he asks as he raises his eyes to yours. Despite the hat, you can see how his eyes pierce into yours. How they tear down every wall you have ever built and shock you deep into your core. When you don't answer him, he continues, tying the large bag of ice once more, and leaning it against the park bench.

“Why did it matter if I wanted to help you? It was my choice, my issue. So why did you try so hard to walk away?” as he picks up your shoe and offers it to you, he rises as well, holding it to you. Slowly, you take it, placing it on top of your satchel. There’s no way you're going to fit that around your ankle now.

You sigh before answering, almost unsure of what to say.

How to answer.

You’ve always been like this. Never accepting help, wanting to do things on your own….it's just how you are. It wouldn't change just because you meet someone slightly more famous than everyone else out there, that's just not how it works.

At least, not for you.

“I didn't feel like I should burden you.” You murmur.

As you say the words, he can't help but stare at you, all of his frustration fading away. He can't help but feel surprised at the answer.

“You're not a burden,” he says softly, drawing your eyes to meet him. He smiles kindly at you. “I wasn't obligated to help you, I wanted to. So don't worry, you aren't a burden.”

Lost in the moment, neither one of you looks away.

So lost in him, you almost don't hear the thunder before the first lightning bolt strikes the sky.

You both break away at the sound, staring up at the sky.

The rain starts as a mere trickle of sprinkles but soon grows into a roar of harsh, pounding droplets of tears from the sky within a few seconds. You flinch away from it, immediately dropping your head and shielding your eyes from the rain. Taehyung does the same, flipping up his hoodie over his hat, as though he needed more protection.

People are running from the rain, heading for cover. There are shrieks everywhere as the downpour begins, and surprised bystanders try their best to hide from it.

You take it all in with wide, dazed eyes, but honestly, you can’t feel anything.

Maybe you should be panicking, maybe you should start moving, trying to find some kind of shelter, but you just sit there. Your eyes glazing over, the rain around you reflecting your hopelessness, your despair, your pain. It all combines into a cold numbing feeling that resounds through your body, makes you go still, makes you retreat into the flaming chaos of your mind.

Taehyung starts saying something as he turns from you, surveying the rest of the crowd.

You try to hear him, you do, but as your eyes wander over to the bench beside you, they are lost, in the roar that starts to grow in your ears. Your heart immediately drops to your stomach in disappointment and panic, as you see it.

Your sketchbook, open and bare, on the bench next to you.

It lies there, vulnerable, as the raindrops desperately soak up the page.

Frantically, you snatch your sketchbook off from the bench beside you.

Biting your bottom lip, you hide it in your massive coat which still hangs around your shoulders, trying your hardest to dry it off in frantic fear. You try to ignore the lump turning in your throat, try to ignore the burning behind your eyes.

Was it all for nothing?

You swallow hard, holding your sketchbook safe to your chest, your coat protecting you so far from the rain which has fallen. You would have stayed there through the whole storm, wallowing in self-pity, if not for Taehyung.

As the rain pelts down, the storm growing fiercer by the minute, he literally has to take you by the arm, and shake you before you awake and finally register what he's saying.

“Did you hear me?!” he shouts, his hand tight and cold around yours. It's drenched, and his hat is dripping as he leans in front of you, shouting words you barely register. It's only then that you hear the deafening roar of the storm, the faint screams, and shrieks around you, and his panicked voice. It’s only then that you feel the cold, the water running off of your body, the shivers coursing throughout. It’s only then that you awake from the thoughts consuming your mind.

Looking up at him, you allow yourself to be a bit amazed.

He woke you up.

“Come on! We have to go!” He shouts as he tries to pull you up. His slick grip tightens around your hand, as his urgency grows. Pulling on your arm, he tries to drag you along with him as he walks away, but you stop him.

You tug back, your hand slipping out of his. Pausing, he turns to you, confused. Raising your eyebrow, you mutely gesture down to your ankle, at the melting ice pack and makeshift compress he made for you.

His eyes darken with understanding as he moves back beside you.

Placing your arms around yourself and holding yourself in a tight embrace, you shiver in silence. You have gotten used to the rhythm of the droplets which fall on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and plastering your hair to your face and the back of your neck. They uncomfortably roll down your skin leaving behind small paths of rivers on your skin as though branding you with its mark.

You carefully slide your sketchbook into your satchel, closing it up tightly along with the rest of your art supplies. You stare at it, swallowing hard as you try to ignore the tears which threaten to spill on your already wet face. The trees' dense leaves have succumbed to the weight of the rain, and no longer offer much shelter for you, but as of this moment, you could care less. Smiling slightly, you bow your head, already resigned to waiting here through the rain.

As you clutch your coat tighter around your body, it takes you a moment, but soon you realize that the steady drum of the rain is no longer playing on your head.

Confused, you lift your bowed head and find Taehyung before you.

He stares down at you, those hazelnut eyes regarding you with guarded pain. Inches away from you, his hands are extended so that they rest on the tree trunk directly behind you. You share the same breath, the same heat, the same protection. He has provided a haven, a place where you can be safe from the storm around the two of you.

You meet his steady gaze with one of your own, a bit surprised.

“We have to go.” He whispers, his lips looking more glossy than ever amidst the humidity and the rain dripping off of his face. You swallow hard, forcing your eyes away from them and meeting his eyes, desperately trying to ignore how the rainwater has made his face shine in a very distracting way.

“I know that you can't exactly walk right now, but I’ll carry you.” He offers, pushing himself off of the tree trunk, and holding his hand out to you. You don't take his hand right away, regarding him with wary eyes. Tae grows impatient and bites his bottom lip with anticipation as the wind starts to blow harder, the storm growing worse by the minute.

“What are you waiting for?!” he shouts over the deafening gusts.

You hope your hesitation isn't too obvious, but Taehyung notices.

Of course, he notices.

If Jungkook were here, would things be different? Would you trust him to take you to safety?

He’s always felt as though he weren't good enough. Not for ARMY, not for his hyungs, not for his family, and now…

Not for you.

“What about your backpack?!” You call out to him from your perch on the bench, trying to distract from the real reason and bring up a new problem. A bit confused, he looks at his back as though he had forgotten it was there. He ponders the question for a moment before shrugging it off his shoulders and holding it out to you.

“You could carry it instead!” He responds, and you slowly take it, securing it around your shoulders. When you're finished, he looks at you expectantly. “Are you ready?!”

“Are you sure?! Wouldn't it be better to wait for the bus to come back?!” You cry out over the start of the storm. Taehyung, drenched already from standing in the rain for too long, rolls his eyes almost before taking you forcibly by the hands and lifting you off the bench.

Not expecting the action, you jump to your feet. Your foot failing you once again, you fall into his waiting arms, your hands resting securely on his chest. Shaking your head slightly, you raise your eyes to his and falter. The fact that he’s so close to you, that he’s holding you, causes your heart to soar with unimaginable emotion so much so that it's near impossible to pull away. His arms are secure around your waist, hands pressing against your back as you lean on him.

His eyes stare profusely into your own as you gaze at him, searching his deep pools of color. You're able to see the tiny raindrops which have caught onto his thick eyelashes, the smooth angle of his cheekbone, the defined muscle of his jawline.

You're lucky your hands are clinging to his chest because if they weren't, you might've gotten too close for comfort.

On the other hand...perhaps you're already too close.

You avoid his eyes, biting your lip furiously, as you command yourself to hold back. Now is not the time or place for your imagination to run wild.

His hands respond to your touch, wrapping themselves around yours as though instructing you to keep them securely on his chest. As though refusing to let you fall.

Breathing heavily, you look up at him at the touch, your wide, hesitant eyes searching his.

“Trust me.” He says, close enough now that he doesn't have to shout, recreating a space for the two of you to exist in. “I promise you won't fall, so trust me, please.”

When he looks at you that way, beautiful hazelnut eyes staring deep into your soul, it's hard for you to say no. You nod, mutely, and he smiles. After a moment, he slowly releases his hold on your waist, wrapping his hand around yours and directing it to rest on his back as he kneels on the wet, dirty concrete sidewalk, his back broadening as his muscles stretch to fit the position. Gathering your emotions, you hesitate, wondering if this is a wise idea, but Taehyung cuts through your thoughts.

“Just hop on! Act like it's a piggyback ride!” he instructs from the ground, causing you to smirk before you raise your coat over your head and prepare to climb on.

“Isn't that exactly what it is?!” you bring to his attention.

He smirks, unable to prevent the soft laugh from escaping his body. Letting out a soft sigh, you prepare to board him, as though he were a train, analyzing the best way to get on. You secure your injured foot first, and he wraps his firm arm around it, making sure that it's safe from the rain. Your other foot comes next, and you wrap it carefully around his waist, in the little bent position like most piggyback rides. With the other leg, you pull your entire body weight on him, wrapping your hands around his chest, right where his collarbone meets his pectorals.

As your entire body rests on him now, he is acutely aware of it. He tries his hardest not to blush, reminding himself that this was his idea, that he was the one who pushed for this. He tries to ignore the fact that when your hand accidentally slides up a bit and grazes his throat, he can't help the shudder that passes through his body as he immediately looks to the floor. He swallows hard, his eyes burning a hole in the ground as you pull your coat over the both of you, offering a sort of canopy or umbrella against the rain.

Once you've finished, you position yourself so that you're secure on his back, your face resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder. An action which he certainly feels as his heart seems to drop to the bottom of his chest at a million miles an hour. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before turning to face you as best as he can. You pull back your face a bit as well so that you can get a clearer view.

“You ready?” he asks you, half teasing, an inquiry which makes you smile.

“Are you?” you ask in turn, and he looks away, laughing a bit before rising to his feet with surprising swiftness. You almost fall with how fast he stands, and you have to scramble to secure your hold around his neck. He laughs hysterically at your reaction, and you have to fight to keep your smile at bay before you smack him on his shoulder. You can feel him laugh beneath you. It's a warm sound, something that resounds throughout his entire body.

“Don't do that!” You demand, pouting almost before his laughter subsides. He glances at you once more over his shoulder, smirking at your pouty expression.

“I thought you said you were ready.” He challenges, raising his eyebrow, and you roll your eyes at him, lifting your head off of his shoulder.

“Correction. I said, ‘are you?’ Technically I never answered your question.” You retort and he chuckles, nodding as he turns his head to the road before the both of you.

“Is that so?” he asks and you nod. Finding it more comfortable to rest your head on his shoulder, you lean forward, your hands sliding down his chest with the movement. He falters at the touch and tries to drown out the incessant pounding of his heart with his voice. A futile effort, but an understandable one.

“Well, now's the time. Here, I'll ask again.” You roll your eyes at his condescending tone.

“Are you ready now?”

You wait a bit before answering his question, if only just to get on his nerves a bit. Overdramatically, you raise your hand to your chin, pondering the question and making a sort of humming sound as though you're thinking hard about it. He notices the sarcastic notion and scoffs. You pause for too long, however, and he grows tired of waiting.

After a moment, he raises his eyes to the warm canopy of your coat that you have offered, and pretends to drop you once more. Leaving you to cling to his neck frantically and him dying in a fit of laughter. You hit his head in retaliation this time, and he ducks, unable to stop his laughter. You can't help but laugh as well. When you gain your composure, you raise yourself a bit, by placing your hands on his slick head and pointing forward.

“Onward!” you cry. Taehyung chuckles to himself from underneath you, trying his hardest to gain his composure but failing miserably. “Go to Narnia!”

When you tap his head slightly as though they were the reins of a horse, his laughter fades and he smirks at you over his shoulder. At that look, you automatically wish you hadn’t said anything at all.

“Oh no.” You groan before he turns back to the road, and breaks off into a run down the street. You let out a startled laugh, barely managing to secure your hold around his neck before he’s speeding off into the distance. As he runs, you cling onto him for dear life, smiling with content as you rest against the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

A small space, yet you fit perfectly.

As though it were made just for you.

You hold tighter to him, and close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that this isn't a dream; that this is all real. That you are this close to Taehyung and it's not just something you made up in your mind.

You try so very hard, but when you open your eyes when you see his grin…

You are shocked all over again.

Once more, you find it hard to believe.

In an impossible situation, is it okay to believe that it's not all in your head?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: so when i was reviewing them, i was like omg, i did NOT realize how many intimate scenes i put in there so ;-;

chapter 16 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[xxtraord1nary]

𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝐿𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Pretty angsty I guess.

Summary: When a lonely soul decides to spend her morning on a beach she is unpleasantly surprised to find that she isn’t alone and a lot has changed except her feelings.

Warnings: None

Taglist: @katkart122 @missmiimiie @maurine07 @custaroonie @romewritingshop @lucas-rennells @omgfheishot @schnitzelbutterfingers @openheartfanfics

A dreamy sea has a rhythmic pulse to it unmatched by any other part of nature. It forges its own sounds and kindles its own symphony as the waves crawl gently to the shore. Maybe that’s why she admired the Aruban beach so much or maybe it was the isolation of it all. Something she’d come to be so accustomed to. Her loneliness is like standing in the middle of a bustling city, watching people rush by without feeling like you're even remotely connected to them.

No, it's not the same as being alone; being alone is more a state of physical being than it is a state of soul and emotion. You're surrounded by all these people who never seem to truly understand you and who seem like they will never understand the fears and deepest thoughts that tug at your heart. It's not that they don't care about you or truly try to help you -- it's simply that feeling that they will never understand you, no matter how much you explain. It's that craving for love and connection beyond the surface level. Loneliness leads you to feel like you're literally watching the world go by, not part of anything in particular.

Being physically alone though on the beach was nothing new she had to say, but much to her displeasure she wasn’t alone. She spotted a figure in the distance much closer to the shore bare feet in the sand because washed by the gentle waters inching closer. The figure was tall and held a domineering stance and rigid posture she couldn’t shake.

He stood with his face up toward the sun as if taking in the rays of shine and simply basking in its warmth like a bath. He donned white shorts and a plain light blue short sleeved shirt just regular beach attire she shrugged off. He ran his hand through his tussle of chocolate brown curls and visibly breathed deeply taking in the silence quiet and free from disturbance but loud enough to be calming all the same.

It wasn’t until he turned around and they locked eyes from her sitting position did her grow wide and her posture go rigid did she realize this was no mere man or stranger on the beach at all. It was him. Her one that got away. The man that used to make her heart skip a beat with just a simple touch or look, the love of her life. The one that got away. After all this time he was still a part of her. She could still feel the way she beats nearly out of her chest at his mere presence and there’s a certain ache that still makes her feel like she is still in love with him.

For years he’d been the last thing on her mind before she went to sleep the reason for the teardrops on her pillow. Why even after all this time she hadn’t been able to get over him even after deciding to let him go which was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She tried to get rid of them, the memories, yet she still cannot, because those memories are so ebullient and hard to forget. They're still in her heart's chamber.

She wanted him to know so much, that she loved him. Still she did, her feelings were never a joke and that everytime she told him “I love you” way back when it came from the bottom of her heart. The moment she told him that his embrace made her feel so much comfortable and forget all her problems in life, yes she was honest with that. She was so honest for all the feelings she harbored deep inside. She cherished the moments shared and wouldn’t ever forget how she felt every time she was with him and all she’d put them through.

She wanted to go to him. Her heart told her to run into his arms and rekindle what they had once had but body stayed situated and stuck in place as she continued to stare at the once love of her life and the man she couldn’t ever seem to get over. That she still held a flame larger than life for. He sent a gentle smile but his eyes told a different story of love, so much love. But her happiness died disgustingly hard when realized he hadn’t seen her at all. Instead his attention had been directed behind her where his eyes alighted unfathomably bright at the sight of a woman and a small girl with a little brown dog.

The woman was absolutely stunning. She truly was what women paid to look like, if perfection didn’t exist she was an exception truthfully. Her tanned brown skin could’ve been glowing in the bright sun and beautiful features were highlighted stunningly by the carefree smile alighted on her face. As she held the smallest girl who took after her seeming to be mother exponentially. The girl held their mother’s golden brown complexion and dark curly hair but those eyes; they were unmistakably blue. A bright blue that resembled those indigo blues she knew all too well.

They were Ethan’s and the woman’s children. Her thoughts were only confirmed when the little girl wrestled her way out of her mother’s arms, raising a laugh from the woman as she ran into her fathers arms with the puppy trailing behind her. She hadn’t ever seen him look so happy and at peace. But when the woman made her way to him and hugged him from behind the way his face lit up was foreign to him; even in their time together she’d never made him look like that with just a simple hug.

He wasted no time in bringing her into his embrace and kissing her deeply, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and being borderline affectionate. There was no doubt in her mind that Ethan Ramsey, a man who had no time for marriage or family loved the woman that donned a heavy diamond ring on her finger as he held it up and kissed each knuckle tenderly earning a moan of discontent from the little girls. It was adorable really they looked like a picture perfect family. What you’d see in movies really. Hell they even had a small dog with them that she hadn’t noticed till now.

It had finally hit her, she had to move on. She needed to let go of all that held her back: her love for a man who’d absolutely moved on, after all he was her first love. The very first love that she had experienced in her whole life. It felt melancholic for she had lost him. Maybe they were meant to spend the good times together, it’s just fate took its turn, she was able to hurt him and he did too and well she guessed that was inevitable. Then they parted ways and new beginnings came their way, you chose her over what a naive girl thought was forever kind of love. But it’s okay because she’ll get used to it. She promised herself and hopefully soon it’ll be without bitterness or anger.

Her therapist had told her some time ago before she left for the medical conference in Aruba that when she needed to get something out and she wasn’t available to try and write it out, in a letter of sorts. So she did just that and she wrote a goodbye later her lost love would never receive and not for him but for her. So she swiftly left the beach as undetected as when she arrived and made her way back inside the resort and found a pen and paper in her hotel room and got to writing. She wrote till her hand cramped and her tears stained the paper.

Dearest Ethan,

I wish you happiness love, even if that happiness doesn't include me anymore. It's just that I have to accept the fact that I was no longer a part of you and you of me. Thank you for everything. If I would be given a chance to get back from where we started I will still have that small talk with you in the hallway about her physics class we had together. I will still choose to fall in love with you because you're the best thing ever happened to me, maybe our bittersweet love story has ended after I’d hurt you the way I did. I thought the grass was greener on the other side and I was wrong but I found out all too late. But the last thing that I want to say is in another life I would be your girl so I don't have to say you were the one that got away. And I’m sorry not only to you but to myself...and Tobias.

Love,

Someone you used to know

As she sealed the letter she closed a chapter to her life that wouldn’t ever be opened again. And somehow she moved on. Ethan belonged to the beautiful with the brown skin and curly hair and somehow someway Suparna had to be okay with that. She wasn’t thinking when she sent the letter via bell boy to his room she only asked that it be deliverers to Dr. Ethan Ramsey and lied saying it regarded information about the medical conference he’d been invited to. And with that she went to her bed and fell into a restful sleep dreaming of what could’ve been.

————————————————————————————————

After an eventful day at the beach which was great until Charisma decided to put sand in Jenner’s fur. The act prompted the family to make their way back to the suite and give the girl and the pup a good bath before dinner which was much harder than it looked. Jenner was absolutely refusing and kept shaking his wet little sandy body as often as he could making the largest mess he possibly could. He had given up on chasing the three year old who’d decided that baths weren’t her thing and decided she’d rather run naked throughout the hotel room. Finally he’d washed and dried Jenner and put him in the dog bed with some toys to keep him busy. His love thankfully relieved him of his daddy duties and got Charisma ready for bed. A knock on the door interrupted his short reprieve that involved what he needed most at the moment a glass of scotch.

He answered the door and was met with a bellhop delivering him a letter that he took suspiciously wishing the boy a good night. He wasted no time in opening the letter and reading its contents that quite confused him. His thought process was soon interrupted by a warm hug from the love of his life as she placed her chin on his chest.

“Who’s it from?” She gently inquired. He only shook his head and shrugged in response. “No one important.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah I’m alright.” And with that he took his wife’s hand and couldn’t help but to admire the diamond ring that was just made for her and kissed her ring finger tenderly as he and Charlotte made their way to their daughters room to read her at least three stories before she finally turned in only to have her come in their bed later. But they wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ceescedasticity]

SFear Supplementals

I decided I'm not going to post any SFear supplementals on AO3 until the next chapter of Collateral has gone up, and anyway the fandom is... preoccupied... at the moment, but I did finish some stuff. Obviously will make zero sense without the main fic.

Supplemental #1: Reunion in the Land of Mist and Glowworms

When the sensation of being watched snapped back into place, Martin startled so badly he dropped a steel imp out the window directly on top of a hydrogen imp, and they both vanished into colored polygons.

"I'll just go get that grist for you," Peter said, and swooped out the window.

Martin let him go. The feeling wasn't as strong as it was in the Changed world, probably no worse than an average day in the Archives, but it was much more than anything he'd felt since the tunnels whited out around him, and he couldn't help but hope.

The two remaining steel imps were still busily destroying furniture, but it wasn't like he had any emotional connection to the strange little mock-lighthouse the Game had left him in. (Some of the furnishings were oddly reminiscent of childhood. That wasn't a plus.) The only thing he couldn't afford to lose was the laptop. He grabbed that and made for the stairs to the roof.

It wasn't a very tall mock-lighthouse, but it was the best vantage point around. There wasn't a lot to see, apart from a glimpse of the nearest "consort" village, and mist, and as always the eerie light of the glowworms in the sky. (What were they even hanging from?)

And… a spot of sickly green glow, on the other side of a hill, the opposite direction from the village.

It might have been wiser to be concerned, but…

Slamming the 'lighthouse' door open on the way out annihilated another imp, which he couldn't even feel bad about at this point. He circled the side of the building away from Peter and made for the hill at a run.

(There had been another ice ogre roaming around, but it seemed fairly slow. This should be fine.)

He saw the glowing green… Eyesprite before the human figure accompanying it, but Jon called, "Martin!" at almost the same time, and then Martin was skidding down the hill and then they were hugging. The laptop made it more difficult, but who cared.

The Eyesprite stared at them from three meters away.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Jon said, into his shoulder. "I was, ah, I lost consciousness for a little while after entry. Well, for several hours."

Martin pulled back, alarmed. "Are you okay?" Jon didn't look hurt — possibly a little manic, but not bad. A little more… Beholding-y than he'd looked in the tunnels, but much less than the post-apocalyptic standard. "Was it because of the fears being weaker?" He'd been a little worried about that—

"No," Jon said. "Well, yes. Partially. I mean — that's about whether it's because of Beholding being weaker. Whether I'm okay is yes. It's an adjustment, and Knowing is, uh, complicated, but— I'm okay." He smiled. "More okay than I've been in a while, I think. It's sort of a long story — the short version is that Skaia filled in the, the holes the Eye's weakening left, and that's had some complications but— It's good."

"That—" Martin stopped himself. Yes, the Eye was the devil they knew and Skaia the devil they didn't, but if Jon thought this was better and was glad about it Martin didn't have to push him now. "I'm glad."

Jon had been… slightly hopeful, when they'd discussed the Ritual of Skaia, back in the tunnels — but mostly desperate. His pitch for this alternative had focused on removing the Entities into a different pocket dimension and trapping them there, rather than unleashing them into the multiverse. He'd admitted it was more of a gamble than Annabelle's plan, and involved all of them jumping into the pocket dimension, too, and that was meant to be survivable in a successful ritual but there were no guarantees — and he'd all but begged them to do it anyway.

(It hadn't been too hard a sell, once it became evident that there really was a Ritual of Skaia and Jon wasn't suffering an overdue psychotic break but really had picked up something out of the Hilltop Road rift. Nobody had actually liked Annabelle's plan. This… had potential.)

(Martin had asked Jon if he thought he could survive this. Jon said he didn't know, but he could live with it.)

He was really hopeful, now. Like he actually thought things might turn out okay.

"I'm glad," Martin repeated, and hugged him again. Jon sighed, and leaned into the embrace.

Then he said, "We're about to be attacked by some sort of ogre. If you don't have any moral objections, I'll just destroy it."

"Oh, for—" The first ice ogre that showed up had trapped him on the roof for over two hours before Peter got annoyed and (probably) threw it into the Lonely. "Yes, get rid of it. Wait, you can still smite things?"

"If I Ask underlings what they are — ask imps or ogres, at least — they immediately dissolve into grist."

"Convenient." Martin didn't want to hunt underlings but he was really not a fan of underlings.

"Quite."

The smiting was much less dramatic than avatar-smiting had been — like Jon said, just a question and immediate disappearance. Unsurprisingly Jon looked more… Beholding-y while doing it, though far from the worst Martin had seen him.

The Eyesprite stared at them from three meters away.

"The, um… some of the, uh, eye cloud looked like they had funny pupils?" Martin ventured as Jon collected the grist. "Like a, um…"

"A stylized sun," Jon said. "Yes, that's the Light Aspect symbol. I hadn't noticed that before, but it's not surprising. There's a bit of a… territorial struggle going on in there."

A territorial struggle in his head? That didn't really fit with Martin's definition of okay, but fine. "Is that your Aspect? Mine's Blood, which according to the sprite has something to do with connections between people, but still."

"And Light has to do with information and knowing things," Jon said dryly. "And supposedly luck, although I don't think I got much of that part."

"Ah. Ouch."

"It does sound better than Blood, though. Glad you were able to get something useful out of your sprite."

"I noticed yours doesn't seem very, uh, talkative…"

"Well, not at the moment— Oh, Christ."

The Eyesprite was staring at them from one meter away.

"Back off," Jon ordered, and it drifted back a few feet. "Sorry. Is it making you feel too… beheld?"

"Not too bad. Though I suppose I have a fairly high tolerance by now." Hmm. "Mine got, uh, quite a bit less… Lonely-feeling after it, er…"

"Turned into Peter Lukas," Jon supplied. "Sorry, I took a look at how everyone was doing after I woke up. I could have tried to skip you, but…"

"I don't mind," Martin assured him.

"There wasn't too much detail."

"Really, it's fine. You said you looked at everyone, was everyone—"

"Peter," Elias — Jonah — interrupted, "is right on the other side of that hill, fighting the sprite instinct to come and talk to all of us."

Martin flinched violently; Jon looked sick, but immediately snapped "Not that one!" and the sprite went back to just being an Eye.

"Has it been doing that the whole time?" Martin asked, horrified.

"Not the — the whole time, it's, it's been trying out other people." Though he was still clearly shaken, Jon glared at the sprite, which… possibly looked chastened. "It hasn't been him for quite a while, actually, I thought it had gotten the point."

"Not something you can Know?"

"Well, I could try, but I couldn't verbalize it without doing a whole statement about it. Knowing is… complicated."

Huh. Well, they probably wanted to avoid that. "Maybe it wants to play mind games with Peter?"

"Not that Peter's very good at them," Jonah said smugly — not as Elias, this time, but definitely Jonah. It wasn't as much of a kick in the chest for Martin — different face, different voice despite the same way of speaking — but Jon looked just as sick.

"Don't. Be. Jonah," Jon snapped, and glared until the sprite went back to an Eye.

"Yeah, that's looking likely. Just a minute." Martin jogged back up the hill, and, yeah, Peter was hovering (figuratively and literally) just on the other side. "Peter, just… go away."

If Peter wanted to talk to Jonah again, too, it evidently wasn't enough to outweigh the desire not to be near anyone. Martin didn't have to say another word before Peter disappeared into the mist at high speed.

When Martin got back to Jon, the Eyesprite was still just an Eye. "Okay! That seems to be taken care of for now."

"For now," Jon said. "It's… I haven't tried to Know this, but this one insisted on following me when I left my planet. It's possible they can't go too far from us. In which case it will be near… your sprite again, and I need to get it to turn into something or it will upset everyone who isn't used to putting up with Beholding anyway…"

"It can find someone other than Jonah," Martin said firmly. "Come on, let's go back to the… 'house'." He offered a hand, and Jon took it, and they started up the hill. "I was going to ask, you said you checked on everyone? Melanie and Georgie and Basira, they're…?"

"When I checked they were all alive and unhurt and… no more out of their depth than we are, I think. Also, uh, I don't know if I managed to explain how I was filling out the roster to get players for all the Entities?"

"You… tried." No one had asked when Jon originally said they didn't need to scrape up nine more people somehow, and by the time someone had asked he'd been half in a trance and only intermittently responsive. "You said something about statements and contracts?"

"Yes. What that means is— No, wait, this is going to be a long story, so first—" Jon stopped, and turned, and caught Martin's face in his hands, and smiled. "I love you, Martin. I'm so glad we got this chance."

"I love you, Jon," Martin said, and kissed him. "You got us this chance."

[palimpsessed]

So @captain-aralias​ did one of these and invited other writers to do the same. And I wasn't really going to because it feels a bit late now and also I've done quite a few other year in review posts for 2020. But then I got to thinking that it would be really nice to have one of these for each year to look back on and compare, which convinced me. So, here we go!

If you’re a writer, I’d also encourage you to steal this. Tag me on your post so I can see your thoughts! 🥰

List of Complete Fics for 2020 1. At the Top of a Tower, With You- General, 900 words 2. Use Your Words- Teen, 16k 3. A Man of Letters, or Five Times Baz Retreats and the One Time He Doesn’t- Teen, 54k 4. To the Manor Borne- Teen, 43k

Total: 4 fics, 113k words

Every one of these fics was written for an event, which, realistically, is the only reason they got finished. I have so many ideas I'm working on all at once, and I came into fandom with a focus on making art, so to actually find the motivation to sit down and write/finish/post a fic was entirely deadline based. And it's a technique I'm sure I will also employ in 2021.

Best/Worst Title?

Well, I've mentioned a few times before that I usually have a title before I have much in the way of a fic concept. I don't really dislike any of the my titles, because they all did exactly what I needed them to do, which was help me focus on what I wanted to accomplish in the fic. Comparatively speaking, though, I can answer this.

Best: Use Your Words - succinct, idiomatic, a book quote/motif that also has the potential to be a spell, does what it says on the tin, is probably what all of us are constantly yelling at Baz and Simon to do throughout the books and the fic itself

(Honorable mention to A Man of Letters because that title forms a perfect heart shape when viewed on mobile on AO3. ❤️)

Worst: At the Top of a Tower, With You - this is also a quote and it fits the fic perfectly, but it is a bit of a mouthful and it has a comma in the middle of it, which, while I love commas, feels a bit off-putting in terms of a title - also, it's always kind of bothered me that it's a Baz WS quote used for a CO-era Lucy POV

Best/worst summary?

Again, I don't really dislike any of my summaries.

Best:

To the Manor Borne: The gang decides to spend Christmas together at Pitch Manor. Romance, hijinks, and holiday cheer ensue.

Anything that lets me use the word hijinks is always good! - it's short and sweet - it does a fair job of setting up the premise for the fic and giving highlights, without giving anything away

Worst: A Man of Letters

I'm not going to include this one because it's so long, I had to cut down the version I posted on tumblr to fit in the AO3 field, which is really why I rank it below my others - it effectively sets up the world of Simon and Baz in Regency England prior to where the story starts, but it is prohibitively long - and it's set up, not summary, so it also loses points for not doing what it purports to do - I could have said exactly what this fic was in one sentence: "Simon and Baz meet at several Regency-appropriate venues over the course of a London season and reflect on their acquaintance in letters", but instead I did the full book jacket version because it was more interesting to me.

Best/Worst First Line?

Oh, this is interesting. I can honestly say that I have no idea where this will go. Going to pull up my docs and find out! Okay, since I only have four fics to consider, and I'm feeling split, I'm going to do two for each. I feel good about my words, but I will say that half of my first lines actually provide information, and the other half are incomplete thoughts. Those were stylistic decisions I made, but when taken alone, it does somewhat limit the effectivness of a sentence when it can't stand without the rest of the paragraph. Perhaps that decision will lure readers in for more?

Best:

In the end, we wind up at Pitch Manor. (To the Manor Borne)

I know that you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do not like writing letters. (A Man of Letters)

Kind of interesting that these both contain key words from the titles 🤔

Worst:

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. (Use Your Words)

I love how the title seems to be answering Baz's question when the two are put together like this 😂

Strange that it should end here, where it all started. (At the Top of a Tower, With You)

The title also seems to complete the first line in this one, too. I'm learning about my writing as this goes on, so that's cool!

Best/Worst Last Line?

Hmm. Okay, again, no idea. Also, a little leery of including last lines for anyone who hasn't read the fics they're from yet. (Tho I guess it's unlikely those people would be reading this😆) But let's see what we've got.

Use Your Words and A Man of Letters have very similar final lines, and both are somewhat spoilery.

Best: The ending of A Man of Letters felt risky to me, in the way that it is formatted and changes tone from the rest of the story. It was something that happened as I wrote it and I loved it. I had no idea if readers would like it, if they would feel like it worked as an ending, but I felt strongly enough about it to let the entire fic hinge on that and I think it really paid off. So, without giving you the actual last line, which is only one word, I'm going to say that one is my best ending.

Worst:

To the Manor Borne: "Carry on, Simon."

It's not bad, it's just not mine.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I did not set out to write any fics in 2020. I was supposed to be taking a break from writing. I've been an aspiring novelist for half my life now, and have been going through major ups and downs with my writing. I decided I needed to re-evaluate and figure out if writing was something that was even going to be able to make me happy anymore. The answer is: YES! Just…not original fiction. At the moment. I'm happiest when I can write for the sake of writing and not have to DO something with that writing. Which is why discovering fan fiction was AMAZING!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

To actually answer the question, yes, I wrote more than I thought I would. I also wrote exactly as much as I thought I would, simply because these were all things I signed up for (with the exception of my Countdown fic, but I committed to it as if it were something that required a sign up).

I have a lot more ideas for 2021, but I don't know how many of them will come to fruition. I'm not putting pressure on myself to have to do anything beyond what I sign up for again, because it did work out so well for me starting off.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, the pairing and the fandom were in no way a surprise. 😆 They're my only ones, so those were both a given. The genre is also not surprising.

What's your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

A Man of Letters, without any hesitation. I adore it so much. It's the kind of fic I know I will unabashedly sit down to read over and over, even if I'm the one who wrote it. I had one reader to please and it was ME. By far, my most self-indulgent fic.

Okay, NOW your most popular story?

That depends on the metric.

To the Manor Borne leads in Comments (107), Kudos (153), and Hits (1992), and Use Your Words leads in Bookmarks (26).

But since To the Manor Borne is top in 3 out of 4 metrics, I'll say that one.

Story most upderappreciated by the universe?

I mean, the least popular by a wide margin is At the Top of a Tower, With You, but I don't know if I'd call it underappreciated. It's short, it's angsty, it's got a very unusual style, it's Lucy POV, it's the first fic I wrote and posted. I didn't really go into it with high performance expectations. I'm proud of it, I just didn't expect it to be popular. It would be nice if more people read it, but I'm not broken up over it.

Story that could have been better?

I'm not even going to touch this one. Everything can always be improved upon, but if I go down that route, nothing will ever be done. This is one of the things I have come to appreciate about traditional art versus digital. With traditional, there is only so much you can do before something is permanent and you have to live with it. It's an exercise in letting go and acceptance. Digital is flashier and more flexible, but I could (and have) spend months on a single piece and never feel satisfied, never stop tweaking. I think that's also the reason I started to hate my novels.

Sexiest story?

Based purely on overall vibes, I find the understated tension of the Regency the most appealing, so I'm going to say A Man of Letters. I didn't actually stray into sex territory in any of my fics (though Simon and Baz have had sex by the time To the Manor Borne starts, and refer to it, and probably do it "offscreen"), but A Man of Letters is the one that feels sexiest to me. Lots of thirsting!Baz and feral!Simon and sensual hand touching (how risqué!) - and YEARNING. That, to me, is the sexiest vibe of all. So. Much. Yearning.

Saddest story?

At the Top of a Tower, With You - for this one, I tagged "angst without plot" and I stand by that. It's Lucy losing her connection to Simon at the end of CO and trying to find a way to reconcile herself to leaving him alone again. I gave it as much of a hopeful bent as I could, with the refrain of Baz's spoken "love" to cling to, but it's very sad.

Most fun?

To the Manor Borne - All of my fics have their fair share of angst, but this one also has some good, silly, holiday fluff thrown in. Since I wrote it for the Countdown, each chapter was based on a different prompt, which led to this one going in all sorts of directions no single fic probably ever should. Plus, it has the most Shepard, and Shepard always makes things more fun.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

Oh my god. I don't know. No, never mind. I do. It's To the Manor Borne, but it's split between the two gift giving scenes, the Constellations and Secret Santa/Gift Giving prompts. These were private moments between Simon and Baz, sharing themselves with each other, being vulnerable, and communicating. It's the gifts they give each other, yes, but it's more so the reasons they chose those gifts, and how they show part of themselves and share their love for each other, through those gifts, that had me in tears writing those two scenes. I'm super proud of them.

Hardest story to write?

Use Your Words - it was written for an exchange and that made it really hard to write it knowing there was this pressure of making my gift-ee happy with the fic. I'm proud of it, and they really liked it, but the anxiety was too much for me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

A Man of Letters - if there is a fic better suited to me as a writer, I haven't met it. I started writing after reading Pride and Prejudice in high school, so I started out writing Regency and I spent years and years and years of my life obsessed. When I transferred into college, an administrator I had never met before heard my name during orientation and said, "Oh, you're the Austen scholar." (It is a small, private college, and I was a transfer, so the pool of students was even smaller. But still. Many years later, I'm clearly not over it.) I also did my senior thesis on an epistolary novel (Frances Burney’s Evelina), and my English Lit emphasis was for that time period. So, I felt like I had been preparing for this fic my entire adult life. 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I don't think so. I tend to let my writing be dictated by the characters, so I'm always following their lead. Sometimes they'll do or say something that surprises me and takes me down a route I didn't necessarily foresee, but I don't think there was ever a point where one of them did something that made me rethink who they are as a character.

Most overdue story?

I will say A Man of Letters, since that one felt like a culmination of my seventeen-year-old self's wildest writing dreams. But I should probably say the Scooby Doo AU I still haven't managed to finish, because that one has been a WIP since I joined the fandom. Oops. (I'm hoping when I look over this in a year, I can feel smug that it's finally done.)

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing at all was a risk for me! And writing fan fic for the very first time! Writing an entire fic told only through letters. And then ending it in a completely different style from the rest of the fic. Doing a multi-chaptered fic for the Countdown, using a different prompt for each chapter, and publishing a chapter every single day for thirty days (with the exception of two days that had art). Signing up for fandom events in the first place!

What I learned from taking risks in my writing is the same thing I learned when I took risks in my art this year. I have a much better appreciation for what I've done when I push myself, I feel better about the end product, and I like it longer. I think it's really good for me to challenge myself creatively.

This year's theme and the story that demonstrates it most?

Oh boy. Um. Therapy! Both Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne had their big HEA moments built around sending Simon and Baz to therapy. I don't think that's likely to change for future fics, either. I feel like therapy as the theme for 2020 seems very fitting. (Also, I think I keep sending the boys to therapy because I'm trying to get myself there…)

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Just to write what I want to write, have fun, not put any pressure on myself, and to take risks in my writing and my art because it will help me to grow.