lelianasbong · 1 year ago
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"bumps and prongs in unmentionable places"
so uh. what does this mean. are we gonna talk about it? I have so many questions
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01zfan · 7 months ago
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malpractice | s. es
med student!eunseok x reader | 5.6k words
everyone stay healthy our future doctors are roleplaying as physicians to fuck their roommates…this was my first roleplaying fic so anon i hope it’s to your liking!
contains: roleplaying, NO dubcon, no protection is used
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eunseok and you both agreed it was a one time thing. a quick hookup, fueled by lack of human interaction and alcohol. 
the night had started normal. you shared a small break from long shadow shifts at the hospital with some of your favorite classmates. your friend group of future professionals did what anyone in your age group would do. the club was packed and the mood was high. drinks were passed around and rounds of shots were bought en masse. it was a mistake you didn’t know you were making, getting so wasted in the presence of eunseok. 
when the shots started to sting a little less the two of you started getting touchy. his hand was on the small of your back and your arm gripped his bicep. by the time the shots tasted like water you and eunseok were dry humping in a dark corner of the club. 
the music made your ribcage shake and the darkness of the club made you heady. your view of eunseok came in snatches, only visible when the lights of the club would shine on him periodically. his eyes were hooded and his movements were clumsy like yours, driven by lust but slowed by the alcohol. bodies on the dance floor bumped into the two of you, causing kisses meant for lips to land on cheeks and making you stumble into his arms. eunseok switched with you, caging you between him and a n exposed brick wall that felt rough against your back. when he looked down at you, a brief moment of sobriety hit you both. the moment of clarity was gone the second eunseok started rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip.
“let’s go back to the apartment.” eunseok said.
you nodded and followed behind him, sending a text to your friend that you and eunseok were calling it a night.
as soon as the door of your shared apartment was closed you were on top of eachother. no more moments of clarity, not even a second to think about how you two would change the dynamic of your relationship forever. instead you fucked your roommate that you told yourself you’d never fuck on couch in your communal space. you rode him until your thighs burned, then you let him return the favor by making him do all the work. you were drooling into the armrest of the couch by the time he was finished with you, only knowing his name and the feeling of his hands pressed against your body. 
you didn’t realize the gravity of the situation until you woke up the next morning. eunseok slept on the floor next to the couch with a pillow from his bed tucked underneath his head. in any other situation you would’ve teased him for sleeping on the ground, but then you remembered why. events of the night hit you the same time the hangover migraine hit, nearly knocking the breath out of you. you snuck from the couch and around eunseok’s body to close yourself in your bedroom.
since then, you had avoided eunseok completely. you didn’t sit on the couch anymore to watch television. you stay in your room now, finding ways to entertain yourself when eunseok is home. the only time you left your bed was when you heard eunseok leave the apartment or go into his room. avoiding eachother had become an unspoken acknowledgment, both of you falling into a schedule that left the communal spaces empty in shifts. your usual conversations devolved into short pleasantries. tension was like a thick fog in your apartment. both of you stayed away from the other to try and grant space. 
you knew sex with eunseok was a one time thing. so why was it that you couldn’t escape him? the memories of your night haunted you dreamscape, infiltrating the one place you had reprieve from the stress of being in eunseok’s proximity. 
the dreams started the night after. your subconscious filled in gaps your drunk mind had forgotten or glossed over. you felt eunseok’s hot breath on your neck in your sleep and his hand ghost over your neck. when you felt the experimental squeeze on your windpipe you woke up with a breathless gasp. you were drenched in sweat, looking around your room as if eunseok was in there with you.
everything only got worse after the first dream. they would start innocent, like studying with eunseok or the normal dream of you in class. the beginning would always lure you in, giving you a false sense of security. but no matter how normal or mundane the dream was it would always have eunseok in it and it would always end the same way. sometimes it would be eunseok taking you from behind on your shared couch, smacking your ass until you swore you could feel the pain in real life. sometimes it would be you on your knees, looking up to eunseok’s bobbing adam’s apple as his hand in your hair tightened. no matter what, you would always jolt yourself awake when your conscious mind realized what was happening. 
tonight was different. everything had come to a boiling point, you were dressed in your scrubs walking down the quiet ward to greet your patient. when you opened the door to the hospital room it was eunseok was on the hospital bed, whimpering about pain. you were trying to be the best nurse you knew you could be, asking him where it hurt and what his symptoms were. it was no use, the way eunseok pulled at your scrubs made that clear. you had known by now that your dreams never ended with something as simple as a diagnosis. this dream instead ended with you riding eunseok on his hospital bed while he groped every part of your body.
you no longer shot up from the bed gasping for air. when the nonsensical ridiculous dreams kept coming, you were forced to deal with it quietly. now you let your eyes open quickly to stare at whatever was in front of you as you came to. your throat was always dry now, and you had to blink to bring moisture back to your eyes. 
you blinked repeatedly trying to adjust to the darkness in your room. everything felt uncomfortable. your body was drenched in sweat, down the line of your back and underneath the covers stuffed between your legs. your clothes stuck to your sweaty body, and you could feel your underwear press to your folds each time you moved.
your clock told you it was time to go to bed, in any other case you would’ve turned around in bed and dealt with it in the morning. but the water bottle next to your bed was empty, and you needed to go to the bathroom. you considered your option, smacking your lips to try and wet your throat. when your throat still felt dry and scratchy you stretched carefully before getting up from your bed.
you nearly stumbled out of your bedroom rubbing your eyes. you didn’t want to wake yourself up too much, knowing you might struggle trying to fall asleep later. you are still out of it, making a wobbly line for the fridge. your mind was so busy thinking about your dreams that you didn’t notice eunseok sitting at the table. he took notes diligently, pausing his movements to watch you over his circular frames. you visibly tensed when you finally noticed his presence. eunseok froze the same way for a moment before going back to writing in his journal. 
you freeze in place and eunseok does the same. he waits for you to say something first, evident in the way he clears his throat.
“you’re up late.” you say.
your attempt to sound casual fails. your tone is awkward, stating the obvious as you shift on your feet. eunseok laughs quietly as he highlights something in his medical book.
“case study,” eunseok doesn’t look up from his notes. “taking longer than i thought.” he says.
he looks at his watch again before looking back at you. if you look at eunseok for too long, you start to remember details you tried to forget. it takes everything in you to turn away silently while making a beeline to your bedroom.
“what are you doing awake?” eunseok asked.
the question was rushed, falling from his lips before you could shut him out again. when you turn around you see eunseok no longer looks at his books. his highlighter and pen rest in the binding of his journal as he looks at you.
“bad dream.” you said sheepishly. 
you could see eunseok’s head tilt as he thought about something. he tapped on his book nervously, looking at you over the rim of his glasses. you stood there in between the space of your room and the kitchen foolishly, waiting for eunseok to say what was on his mind. he cleared his throat, looking to you directly.
“the walls are thin, ya know.” he said. “especially when i’m in here doing work late at night.”
that was all you needed to hear before quickly turning on your heel to walk into your room. the heat made your face feel like it was on fire when you reached for the doorknob of your bedroom.
“wait.” eunseok said behind you. 
when you looked at him you saw that he had gotten up from the table quickly. he looked to the seat on the other side of the table, the one you haven’t sat at in so long. 
“can we just talk? please?” eunseok said.
when you sat down, you found out that eunseok had heard everything. he tried taking a neutral approach, trying to save you from some of the shame. but it was unavoidable as eunseok told you he’s been hearing everything. you were nearly crying when eunseok reached an awkward hand out to pat on your shoulder. eunseok told you sincerely you didn’t have to be embarrassed, but shame still made your head hang low. eunseok didn’t stop rubbing your shoulder, but you didn’t spare a glance towards him. it wasn’t until he stopped rubbing your shoulder and cleared his throat, opening his mouth over and over again as he tried to gather what to say.
“i want to help you.” he says.
you lift your head to look at eunseok with narrowed eyes. shock has left you and was replaced with anger fueled by embarrassment. the fact that eunseok seemed to only want to throw salt on the wound made the hair rise on your neck.
“not funny eunseok.” you say.
your arms are crossed protectively as you get ready to stand up from the table. eunseok reaches towards you, a hand asking you to stop.
“i’m serious.” eunseok lets his hand rest on the table as he gathers his thoughts. “i was thinking. maybe if we did it under the guise of something else it could ease the tension.” he says.
when you realize what eunseok is hinting at you can’t stop your eyebrows from furrowing. your shocked expression mirrors eunseok, like he is also surprised he came up with such a thing.
“you mean like roleplaying?” when eunseok nods you keep talking. “like we fuck but you’re my doctor?”
“if you don’t like it. we can stop and pretend it never happened.” eunseok assures you.
you consider all your options. you think about yelling at eunseok for assuming you’d be so easy to say yes to something so ridiculous. but you also think about the dreams you’ve had, how you hhaven’t stopped thinking about eunseok since that night. if this backfired, you’ll move out and never be seen by eunseok again. you still feel a pit in your stomach at the possibility of it being awkward. you look at your roommate in his seat at the table, twiddling his thumbs as he waits for you. you’re no better, picking at your hands underneath the table.
“i feel like after…” you clear your throat and force yourself to maintain eye contact with eunseok even though your face feels like it’s on fire. “after we should have a very long conversation about what happened that night after the club.” you say matter-of-factly.
eunseok’s eyes light up and he nods his head vigorously as you stand up from the table.
“i agree completely.” he says.
eunseok still sits at the table looking up at you when you rock back and forth on your heels. every attempt you make trying to seem confident in this situation seems to fall flat. you wish you could’ve slipped into the act, a non-assuming patient that sweetly asks where to go for the examination. instead you clear your throat awkwardly and look around the space of the common area.
“my room or yours?” you ask shyly.
eunseok stands up from the table quickly, pushing in his chair slowly before walking over to you. you can see he has trouble too by the way he gestures to his room. you two are silent, you only nod before heading to eunseok’s room. you can hear him push in your chair and clothes his books, turning off the light in the common area and following behind you. before you made it through the threshold of his door, eunseok grabs your hand and holds it gently. he turns on the lamp that sits on his desk, and clears off his neatly folded pajamas that sat on his made bed with one hand. 
you stood next to eunseok’s bed and he stood beside you, your hand still in his. it was daunting, being in eunseok’s room knowing what you came in here to do. all the other times you had been in his room was to quickly look for something or peer in to ask if he wanted to order takeout. but now you were in eunseok’s room looking down at his sheets, anxiously waiting for what was going to come next.
eunseok turns to you, smile on his face as he speaks.
“should i put on my lab coat?”
with a serious voice but a smile on his face eunseok helps ease some of the tension. you laugh and shake your head, playfully hitting eunseok in his shoulder. 
eunseok squeezed your hand one last time before letting it go. you felt him come behind you, placing both of his hands gently on your elbows.
“you can lay down.” eunseok said gently.
you silently nodded your head, realizing it had started. you could feel the atmosphere change as eunseok guided you slowly to crawl on his bed. one of his hands moved to the back of your head to help you lay on the pillows gently. he was handling you slowly and carefully like glass, the complete opposite of how he held you the first time. 
eunseok stayed by your side, holding your hand as he looked down at you. you found yourself avoiding his gaze at all costs, suddenly becoming hyperaware of everything about yourself. how you were laying, how you looked from eunseok’s perspective, how tight you were holding onto his hand. you tugged on his hand to bring him down to you in an effort to level the playing field. 
when he was crouched beside the bed next to you, eunseok took in all of your features. his hand that was holding yours let go to run a slow finger on your jawline, resting on your forehead like he was checking your temperature. you held gently to his tricep, needing something to hold for comfort.
“are you comfortable?” eunseok asked.
you shake your head still anxiously picking at the sheets underneath your fingertips.
“i think. i think you need to take a closer look.” you whisper.
eunseok smiles, his hand that was on your forehead reaching down to pinch your cheek.
eunseok crawls onto the bed, slotting himself between your partially spread legs. he rests on his haunches, rubbing soothing hands up and down your calves. you focus on the tiny sound your nails make against the fabric of eunseok’s bedsheets. you can feel his eyes on you and you’re too anxious to focus your eyes in the dimly lit room to look back at him.
eunseok recognizes too much about you, the way you nervously pick at everything around you and the way you bite your lip when you’re stressed. he wants to help you, he wants to get rid of the tension that weighs down on your shoulders each time he passes by you. so eunseok does what any good doctor would do and begins his examination.
“when did the dreams start?” eunseok asks.
he’s serious, his hands reach down to your ankles to push them up the bed, forcing you to bend your legs at the knee. you try to think hard, focusing everything to get into the character of his patient. put you’re shy, too shy to look at anything but your bent knee. eunseok’s hand that comes to rest on top of your knee forces you to open your mouth.
“since that night we—i went to the club.” you stammered. 
“i see.” eunseok hums sympathetically, hand working down your knee towards your thigh, stopping where the bottom of your night shorts begin. “and what happened when you went to the club?” eunseok asks.
you clear your throat, heels digging into the mattress.
”i wont judge you.” eunseok places a chaste kiss on your knee. “what happened when you went to the club?” he asks again.
eunseok starts messing with the bottom of your shorts, going underneath the fabric to rub on your skin. his hands are soft, wedging. between your ass and the bed until you are in the palm of his hand. you squeeze your eyes shut and open them to look at the ceiling. your hand that isn’t picking at the sheets in underneath your night shirt, hand over your stomach to self-soothe.
“i had sex.” you say quietly.
eunseok hums in acknowledgment before reaching his other hand into your shorts. this hand rubs on the top of your thigh, reaching all the way up until he hits your waistband. eunseok is so close to touching you where you have been needing him the most. anticipation makes you dizzy to the point that you barely hear him.
“so the dreams started that night?” eunseok asks.
you nod your head, the words are caught in your throat when you feel eunseok bend his hand to cup your heat.
“they started that night.” you bring your hips closer to eunseok’s hand when he presses his hand against your heat. “they happen every night now.” you say.
“i see.” eunseok looks up from between your legs to try and see your face. all he can see is your head pressed into the pillows as you pinch his bedsheets between your two fingers. eunseok presses his hand against you a little more until your back arches slightly off the bed. “and what do you dream about?” he asks.
eunseok hears you hesitate for a second. you let your knees come together, almost locking eunseok’s hands in place while simultaneously keeping him away. he doesn’t want to pry, he doesn’t want to pry your legs apart to give himself better access. he waits for you to get comfortable again until you part your legs again. he’s even gentler than before, taking his hand away from your heat to hold your hand that rests on your stomach. you squeeze his hand and eunseok can hear you let out a breath. you put your hand on top of eunseok’s to slowly drag both of your hands underneath your waistband. his hand underneath your ass lifts your bottom half up slightly so he can grab at your thighs.
“my roommate.” your voice is airy, barely above a whisper as you answer eunseok’s question.
“what about your roommate?” eunseok asks.
he kneads your thighs and your sides, trying to coax anything he can out of you. eunseok wants to hear about your dreams, to see if they’re the same as his. he kisses your knee, working his way down your leg just to go right back up. from resting on his haunches eunseok can see your face clearly. he can tell his ministrations on you are relaxing, your legs wobble but they don’t close in on eachother. when eunseok grips a untouched part of your body he can see your chest raise abruptly. 
“i dream about having sex again.” when eunseok grabs the flesh at the apex of your thighs you grab a fistful of his sheets. “with him.” eunseok hums and grabs the same place. “all the time.” you ramble.
eunseok pulls both of his hands from your shorts and rubs your legs. he does it slow, trying to get you to stop looking at the ceiling to look at him. you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at eunseok between your legs. his hands go to your waistband, hands curling underneath the elastic as he looks to you for approval.
“i’m going to take these off.” you lift your hips and eunseok begins pulling them down. “for the next part of the examination.” he says
you nod, lifting your feet off the bed when your shorts are pulled to your ankles. eunseok tosses your shorts over the bed somewhere in his room. it’s not important when you’re laid bare for eunseok. 
he’s slow at first, hands on the underside of your leg rubbing all the way down to your heat until he works his way back up to your knee again. it’s cruel, torturous almost as you squirm on his bed. you can feel all of eunseok’s fingers as he rubs your hot skin, and you can feel goosebumps prickle along your skin as anticipation builds over you.
the next time eunseok works both of his hands to your heat one of his hands splays across your stomach to hold you down softly. his other hand finds its way to your core, rubbing his fingers up and down your folds. it’s only more teasing, forcing yourself to listen to the wet sound of you on his fingertips. eunseok sweetly kisses your knee again, looking into your eyes as he does it. you bit your lip, and you fail again at maintaining eye contact when eunseok puts his finger inside of you.
you arch slightly into his hand, any attempt to go higher is stopped by eunseok’s hand on your stomach.
“try not to move during the examination.” eunseok says it playfully while he watches you squirm. 
you stop trying to swivel your hips into eunseok’s finger to follow his orders.
“okay.” you pout.
eunseok almost takes pity on you seeing how badly you want to move. he gives you another finger as consolation, and lets you scoot your ass lower on the bed to fuck yourself on his fingers. his hand on your stomach had to go to your knee to try and keep your legs apart.
“do you dream about this?” eunseok asks.
he bends his fingers as if he’s beckoning to you. your hand goes to your knee to put it over eunseok’s hand.
“yes.” you say breathlessly, nodding against the pillows.
you can see eunseok’s smirk even in his dimly lit room, and how his shirt starts jumping as he speeds his fingers up. you try to close your legs around his fingers, but his hand on your knee stops you.
“just like this?” eunseok asks.
“just like that.” you whine.
you can hear eunseok’s light laugh as he watches you get high off of him. it’s not long before you are digging your heels into the mattress and your body starts feeling hot all over. eunseok notices, he sees the way you reach behind you to press against the headboard. eunseok keeps giving it to you, moving to sit on the bed between your legs. his hand on your knee goes to your clit and starts doing revolutions.
“eunseok.” you whimper. 
eunseok looks up from your cunt to focus on your face. your eyes are wet and your legs twitch. eunseok almost bends down to kiss you, but he remembers who he’s supposed to be for you right now. so he remains stoic, lifting an eyebrow as he continues to pump his fingers into you.
“hmm?”
“i’m close.”
as soon as you utter the words, eunseok withdraws his fingers. your back is still arched off the bed and your body quickly comes down from the high that was building up. you prop yourself up on your elbows again, to see eunseok with his fingers in his mouth. he brings his hand that was rubbing revolutions on your clit to your lips, his wet hand beside your stomach as he holds himself up. you hesitate for a second before opening your mouth, letting eunseok put his fingers on your tongue.
“you taste so sweet.” eunseok looks at your bare stomach from your uplifted shirt. he puts his hand on your stomach while you continue sucking on his fingers. “so healthy.” eunseok says.
you nod and hollow your cheeks around his fingers. eunseok takes his out of your mouth and trails down your chin before desperately grabbing your clothed chest. your hand goes to his tricep, trying to encourage him to keep touching you that way. eunseok lifts up your shirt to expose more of your stomach before bending down to kiss your soft skin.
“i think i found the cure.” eunseok says between kisses. “for your problem.”
eunseok starts sucking harshly on your stomach, pulling away each time to admire his work. he blows cold air on each bruise and kisses it gently as if he’s welcoming it. you stopped trying to prop yourself on your elbows, you fully sink your body into the pillows and the mattress underneath you.
“and what’s that?” you ask breathlessly.
eunseok pulls away from your stomach, looking up at you from between your legs. his smile is wicked and you already know what he’s going to say. 
“as a professional in the medical field, i just think you need to get fucked again.” eunseok puts his fingers back inside of you, earning a moan. “don’t you agree?” he asks.
“i agree.”
eunseok takes his hands away from your body and lifts his shirt over his head with a single hand. you do the same but fumble with the end of your shirt, pulling it off your head in a rush. while eunseok works on his belt you take off your bra and then help him pull off his jeans the rest of the way. all of your clothes are thrown somewhere random in eunseok’s room, immediately once they are out of sight they are out of mind. you only care about eunseok’s dick that bobs in the space of his room and his hands that go back to your body.
he walks on his knees to slot himself in between your legs again, lowering his body until his dick rests on your stomach. it is hard and heavy against your body, you can feel and see the leaking precum come from his tip. 
“who should it be?” eunseok grabs your ankles and puts them on either side of his head. “should i call someone?” eunseok asks playfully.
he revels in the way you pathetically shake your head and how your hand reaches between your legs to grab his dick. you desperately guide him to your entrance and wiggle down the bed so you’re closer to him.
“please help me.” you are desperate, already arching off the bed when eunseok slaps your folds with his dick. “i need it.” you whimper.
eunseok splays his hand across your stomach again, and he uses his other hand to guide himself into your cunt.
“who am i to deny a patient?” eunseok says, letting his tip poke at your entrance.
when eunseok slowly sinks in, both of you are silent. you could hear the clock ticking in eunseok’s room as both of your mouths opened in silent euphoria. a week felt like a century, and being sober made you feel everything. the way your walls relaxed as eunseok slowly pushed himself all the way in, the feeling of his hips kissing yours. you almost think you’re becoming drunk off him when he pulls out slowly just to go right back in even slower. eunseok kisses your calf and wraps his hand around your legs to keep them in place.
“i dreamt about this too.” eunseok murmurs.
he watches your chest move in tandem with his thrusts, how you hold one of your breasts in your hand. he wishes he had another hand, to give the other side of your chest attention too. eunseok instead grabs your stomach, enjoying the sight of your skin peaking through the gaps in his fingers.
“feel better yet?” eunseok asks from above you. 
he knows he should be nicer, but from his point of view he can’t stop himself from becoming cocky. he sees the furrow in your eyebrows and the way you bite you lip trying so hard to be quiet while you take all of him. eunseok teases you by drawing his hips back and thrusting into you, making you put your hand on the headboard again to steady yourself. you can open your eyes only for a second before closing them. 
“come closer.” you whine. 
when you pull at eunseok’s hand on your stomach he obeys immediately. he leans forward until the backs of your knees are on his shoulders. even from the stretch you still preen your neck to kiss eunseok. your soft lips push against his and your tongue goes into his mouth with fervor. you suck on his bottom lip and eunseok lets you. the same way he admired the marks on your stomach you admire looking at his swollen and glossy lips. eunseok presses his sweaty forehead against yours and stays there, trying to see all of the faces you make for him.
you run your hands through his hair and eunseok wonders if you can see the blush across his face in this dark room. he’s focused on hitting you as deep as he can, with slow thrusts that cause you to pause and whine in his face. eunseok brings his body closer to you, letting one of your legs fall from his shoulder so he can press his chest against yours.
“faster please.” you whisper against eunseok’s lips.
he nods and brings his hips back to thrust into you at a faster pace. one of your hands holds eunseok’s that’s planted in the mattress and the other holds your thigh close to your body. eunseok is able to pick up the speed fast, and he’s unrelenting even when your breathing starts to becoming hurried and your body starts squirming underneath him.
“where do you want it?” eunseok grunts. 
he can’t bring himself to be cocky anymore. he has to focus all of his energy in his hips and waiting fro your instruction on where he can cum.
your ankle digs into his back and you lift your hips to give him a new angle. 
“inside.” you laugh against eunseok’s lips at how ridiculous you sound. “that’s how i get cured, right?” you ask.
eunseok is the one reduced to nods now. he nods against your forehead before bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. his tongue runs across your lips before ever going into your mouth, and he presses his tongue against yours to taste you. his hips rut against yours, the sound of your skin slapping against eachother fills the room. eunseok moans into your mouth and you do the same, digging your ankle deeper into his back as he hits that same spot deep inside of you again and again.
“fuck.” eunseok pulls away from your lips. he can feel himself twitching around you, and he can feel your walls close around his dick to milk him. he continues to thrust into you slower and harder now, determined to give you every last drop. “take it.” he groans.
“give it to me.” you whimper underneath him. 
your back arches as far as you can into eunseok’s chest as your legs stiffen. your hips move on their own accord, matching eunseok’s stuttering hips. you two continue to get higher and higher of eachother, until eunseok lets your other leg fall from your shoulder to pull you close. he lifts your body from the bed and pulls you onto his lap, fucking up into you as you helplessly wrap your arms around him to stabilize yourself. you are a moaning mess now, no amount of pressure you apply to your lips could keep you from holding back. eunseok is the same, grunting and moaning into your ear as his hand grips your shoulder.
he keeps you in his lap for awhile, letting his softening dick twitch inside of you while your walls still pulse. when he guides you back to the bed he’s gentle, laying his body on top of yours to still be close to you.
eunseok pulls out of you and falls on the bed next to you. the both of you look at the ceiling, coming down from your shared high. it’s eunseok who turns first to kiss your cheek, but you’re the one that grabs his hand to bring him closer to you. you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep, maybe the best sleep you’ve had in weeks. eunseok doesn’t try to keep you awake to talk, instead he pulls you close and lets his slowing heartbeat lull you to sleep.
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allbark-no-bite · 1 year ago
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Ignorance is Bliss || Coriolanus Snow x reader
summary: there’s something to love about the simplicity of boyhood. or in which there’s still good in Coriolanus and you love him
warnings: none really. this is just self-indulgent fluff. maybe slight mention of smut
word count: 1.3k
authors note: okay first of all ik everyone here spells it Coryo, but i much prefer Corio. the Hunger Games was the first ever fandom that i wrote for nearly 8 years ago (please don’t read my wattpad) and i’m so excited to have an up to date fic posted on here! the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes revived my love for the series and i hope you all enjoy :)
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The sky shifts from a faint blue to yellow with the approaching evening light. In just a few minutes the swarms of awakening insects will be almost too much to bear. He swallows, and the combination of his dry mouth and the lack of humidity makes it feel as though his throat sticks together with the action. Being so deep in the forest, away from the rest of civilization, the air out here is so fresh that just breathing it is dizzying.
By now he's so used to the polluted air of District 12 that this sort of clarity is a startling but welcomed reprieve. In the Capitol, he'd grown up hearing stories of the miners in 12 who would eventually succumb to the horrific fate of suffocation, their lungs black from years of inhaling coal dust. Even after just a few months of being assigned as a peacekeeper to the district, the undersides of his fingernails had turned permanently black with the dust.
The games are far from his mind these days—at least most of the time they are. He has done his best to put those horrors in the past. He is no longer a Capitol student, fighting to prove that he belongs there in his hand me down shoes and shirts with buttons made of bathroom tile. Those days now seem like an entirely different lifetime.
His heart rate slows to the point that his chest hardly rises, and his only sign of consciousness is the occasional flicker of his eyes as he fights to keep from dozing off. He lies there watching the sky and counts the hours until the sun is swallowed by the horizon.
It's considerably quiet save for the breeze moving through the leaves of the trees overhead and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot of a forest animal. Five more minutes and he'll get up.
Movement at his side makes him grunt. It's not much, just a shifting of weight, but it still forces a puff of air out of him. Underneath the cream undershirt of his uniform is a mess of slowly healing, raw pink flesh. His body still hurts from weeks ago.
The district boy's spear had stabbed straight through  the muscle of his shoulder and was rapidly on the mend thanks to Dr. Gaul. The burns on his back were healing on their own accord, albeit slower than he would have liked. All things considering, his wounds had been relatively insignificant.
He had seen tributes sustain much worse things in the games before. He'd take a couple of burns over a severed head any day.
This time the weight lifts almost completely from crevice of his side and his attention shifts to the body beside him. You'd been curled up, asleep at his side the the better part of an hour.
"Where are you—" His question is cut off as your weight returns, this time into the pit of his stomach, curling up against the curve of his lean body. It half knocks the breath out of him. You have the tendency to do that to him.
With your cheek pressed into his gut, your hand reaches out for his own and he willingly complies, linking his slender fingers with your own. Perhaps you don't realize it but this is the same way he first touched you, hand in hand back in the zoo, and it will always mean more than anything to him. It is this thought that causes him to bring your wrist to his mouth and press his lips against it.
His mouth is warm against your skin, and even if you don't know exactly where the gesture of affection came from, you reciprocate it with the same tenderness.
"What are you thinking about?" You finally ask, breaking a long hour of comfortable silence.
You.
Rather than answering, Coriolanus hums in acknowledgment of your question. "Corio—" At the same time, he swings his leg over your hip, switching positions so that his body is hovering above your own.
"Hi."
You grin, fingers grabbing hold of the cool metal of his dog tags that hang down from his neck.
"Hi."
Looking pleased with himself, he dips his head down, capturing your lips with his own. You were his, and he was constantly refiguring that out.
The kiss is sweet, tamer than what you're used to from him. Not that he's ever been unpleasant, you adored Coriolanus and just about everything about him. But he was a man. A boy growing into a man and that came it, its own boyish tendencies. Regardless, rarely ever did you discourage his wandering hands.
You can't help but smile at the feel of his lean, brawny body pressed against yours. He'd been thin with hunger back at the Capitol. His time in District 12 training as a peacekeeper had done him well. Not only had he become sturdier with muscle, but somehow taller too. One of his legs is wedged between your own, and through his trousers you can feel him, half hard with interest.
Coriolanus pulls away from the kiss at the feel of your lips pulled into a smile. His brows furrow together in confusion, but your smile is infectious and soon enough his own frown is tilted upwards. "What? What are you smiling about?"
You attempt to subdue your grin at his inquiry, but it's to little avail, and that only drives his insistence. "(Y/n). What've I done?"
"Nothing," you laugh, a palm coming up to cup the side of his jaw so that your thumb can smooth over the sharp protrusion of his cheekbone. Normally the action would be enough to distract him, but he's persistent.
"(Y/n)."
“Really, it's nothing," you insist. "I just... I love you." That is what you settle on. I love you.
You love the naivety in which he is able to love. Pure and untainted by heartbreak. Too young to know much at all. Even too inexperienced to realize that there were more ways to satisfy his desire for you than just kissing. His body wanted you in the way that a man wanted a woman, and while he surely felt the effects of that attraction, his pure intentions had yet to stray.
Coriolanus' clear blue eyes narrow in slight skepticism but he doesn't press you any further. "I love you too," he says, lifting his hand to slip his fingers into your hair and massage at the base of your scalp. At the same time, his thumb presses up into your jaw, tilting your chin upwards so that he can kiss you again.
This time you indulge him further and kiss him back a bit more forcefully than before. Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair, and like a cat preening under the attention, his body reacts in tandem. He half snorts in amusement at your reciprocation but doesn't comment, too pleased to pull away long enough to taunt you.
Coriolanus takes it upon himself to deepen the kiss, the force of his lips upon yours not yet bruising but certainly heading there. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring the taste of your mouth. At the same time, one of his slender hands slides down your side, his fingers grasping at the curve of your hip.
The day will come that his desires get the best of him, and he’ll want more of you. Frivolous things such as the wrestling and the making out that the two of you do now won’t satisfy him later. And while the thought doesn’t bother you, it’s nice what you have with him now. It’s so simple and so easy to love him and his still boyish self now. The time will come eventually, and that’s okay. You’ve got a lifetime together after all.
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fishsinsareacknowledged · 4 months ago
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Nikto x reader Hc - Tw i have never kissed nor plan to kiss anyone amen to my ace people who don't wanna fuck anyone I feel you. Also desperate Nikto.
I need some Nikto who's violently in love with you. Sure he doesn't know any poetry and he knows of his aggressive shortcomings so all he can do to make up for it is muster up any form of silk from his gravely voice while he kisses you. A violently shaky,
"I love you."
Vibrates through his throat before he kisses you again. And again. And again. Again. And again. Until you can barely gasp. All until you understand. And again.
All till both of you are on the verge of passing out, and yet he keeps going. Eyes rolling back from the dizzy feeling of suffocation and even so he forces them open just so you can see just how much he loves you. And maybe too so that in those brief flashing moments of clarity he can see your flushed out face. Breathless and all because of him.
Making you all breathless as he pushes you by your shoulders against the wall behind you, making your knees weak as your body starts to react to the lack of oxygen that he demands. And he grips tighter, practically lifting you into the air.
Just a hand to the nape of his neck and he's on the floor with you, falling on his knees as if he dropped dead and kneeling over you. Pressing his scarred lips over yours. Tongue mapping over the insides of your cheek and mouth and lips all over again again and again as if he can't ever get enough of you as if he needs to burn every inch of you inside and out into the cave of his mind.
Sure he might have killed himself one too many times to consider himself anything but a corpse but he swears he could find the ressurection written on your last breath.
××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××
Ps: He ends up passing out first and trapping you underneath him for thirty minutes before he jolts awake from a nightmare on you mid-recovery. Also you might have almost suffocated from his kiss.
Also PS: I don't physically interact irl at all. Probably never will. But tell me if there's any inaccuracies.
Masterlist
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cyberclouddream · 18 days ago
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Neutral Affirmations for the Self Concept
In the manifestation fandom (lol), your self concept is your core beliefs, so not the mask we wear to cope but what we truly believe about our worth. Using neutral affirmations can take pressure off wanting to find confirmation for your desire on the outside when the real issue is the relationship you have with yourself on the inside.
For example, someone may desire a new car but they meet resistance because they feel like their value is associated with having the car, rather than they're valuable regardless. That thinking can foster separation from the desire because it's a lack mindset. I like to think that we actually desire the feeling that comes with having what we desire rather than only the desire itself. That feeling is usually some aspect of comfort, security, safety, and etc.
If you feel like there's some hidden limiting belief holding you back, take a look at what signs rule over your 1H, 2H, 4H, 8H, 12H and for your personal planets, Saturn, Chiron, and Lunar Nodes for extra clarity. There's a section for through the signs and for through the houses.
S I G N S
Aries
It’s okay to take my time; I don’t have to rush everything. I can be patient with myself as I learn and grow. I don’t need to always be in control to make progress. My worth isn’t tied to how quickly I act or achieve. I can rest without losing my momentum. It’s okay to ask for help when I need it. I can trust the process, even if it doesn’t move as fast as I want. I don’t need to prove myself through constant action. Taking time for reflection doesn’t make me weak. I can embrace the present without needing to always chase the future. I am allowed to pace myself without feeling guilty. I don’t need to push harder to prove my strength. I can focus on my goals without burning out. I trust that things will unfold in their own time. My worth isn’t tied to how much I achieve in a short time.
Taurus
I can embrace change, even if it feels uncomfortable. My worth isn’t tied to my possessions or material things. I don’t need to rush to find security; it will come in time. I can be open to new experiences without losing my sense of self. It’s okay to let go of the need to control every outcome. I can appreciate the beauty around me without comparing myself to it. I am allowed to take time for self-care without feeling selfish. I can find value in my unique qualities beyond physical appearance. I don’t need to have everything figured out to be successful. I can balance my desire for comfort with my need for growth. I trust that my efforts will bring me the stability I seek. I am worthy of love and respect, regardless of my achievements. I can explore my passions without fear of judgment. It’s okay to prioritize my own needs while still being generous to others. I can celebrate small victories along my journey.
Gemini
It’s okay to take breaks; I don’t have to be constantly engaged. I can express my thoughts without worrying about being perfect. My worth isn’t defined by how much I know or how quickly I learn. I can embrace my curiosity without fear of making mistakes. I don’t need to have all the answers to be valuable. It’s okay to change my mind and explore new ideas. I can communicate my feelings honestly without fear of judgment. I am allowed to take time to process my thoughts. I can focus on understanding rather than being understood. It’s okay to enjoy solitude; it helps me recharge. I can be playful in my learning without putting pressure on myself. I trust that my voice is important, even if it’s not always heard. I can embrace my multifaceted nature without feeling fragmented. I don’t need to compare my journey to others’. I can enjoy the process of discovery without rushing to conclusions.
Cancer
It’s okay to feel my emotions deeply; they are valid. I can nurture myself without feeling guilty. My worth isn’t defined by how others perceive me. I can set boundaries that honor my needs and feelings. I don’t need to be the caregiver all the time; I deserve care too. It’s okay to seek comfort and security in my life. I can embrace my sensitivity as a strength, not a weakness. I am allowed to express my feelings honestly without fear. I can trust my intuition to guide me through challenges. I don’t need to hold on to the past to feel secure. It’s okay to seek support when I need it. I can create a safe space for myself to grow and heal. I can balance my desire for connection with my need for independence. I trust that I am worthy of love and belonging. I can appreciate my emotional depth without feeling overwhelmed.
Leo
I can shine without needing constant validation from others. It’s okay to prioritize my own needs and desires. My worth isn’t defined by how much attention I receive. I can express my creativity freely without fear of judgment. I don’t need to be the center of attention to feel valuable. It’s okay to embrace my individuality without conforming. I can celebrate my achievements without downplaying them. I trust that my unique gifts will be recognized in time. I can enjoy being in the spotlight without feeling pressured. It’s okay to have moments of vulnerability; they don’t diminish my strength. I can find joy in my passions without seeking external approval. I am allowed to take breaks from performance and just be. I can foster meaningful connections without needing to be perfect. I trust that my voice and ideas matter, even when they’re not recognized. I can embrace my playful side without worrying about being serious all the time.
Virgo
It’s okay to take my time; I don’t have to rush everything. I can be patient with myself as I learn and grow. I don’t need to always be in control to make progress. My worth isn’t tied to how quickly I act or achieve. I can rest without losing my momentum. It’s okay to ask for help when I need it. I can trust the process, even if it doesn’t move as fast as I want. I don’t need to prove myself through constant action. Taking time for reflection doesn’t make me weak. I can embrace the present without needing to always chase the future. I am allowed to pace myself without feeling guilty. I don’t need to push harder to prove my strength. I can focus on my goals without burning out. I trust that things will unfold in their own time. My worth isn’t tied to how much I achieve in a short time.
Libra
I can embrace change, even if it feels uncomfortable. My worth isn’t tied to my possessions or material things. I don’t need to rush to find security; it will come in time. I can be open to new experiences without losing my sense of self. It’s okay to let go of the need to control every outcome. I can appreciate the beauty around me without comparing myself to it. I am allowed to take time for self-care without feeling selfish. I can find value in my unique qualities beyond physical appearance. I don’t need to have everything figured out to be successful. I can balance my desire for comfort with my need for growth. I trust that my efforts will bring me the stability I seek. I am worthy of love and respect, regardless of my achievements. I can explore my passions without fear of judgment. It’s okay to prioritize my own needs while still being generous to others. I can celebrate small victories along my journey.
Scorpio
I can embrace my emotions without feeling overwhelmed. It’s okay to explore my depths without fear. My worth isn’t defined by how intense my feelings are. I can trust my instincts to guide me through challenges. I don’t need to hide my vulnerabilities; they are part of me. It’s okay to take time to heal and reflect. I can allow myself to feel without rushing to conclusions. I am allowed to set boundaries that honor my needs. I can find strength in vulnerability without fearing judgment. It’s okay to release what no longer serves me. I can appreciate the transformative power of my experiences. I don’t need to control every aspect of my life to feel secure. I can trust the process of change without fearing the unknown. I am worthy of deep connections and intimacy. I can explore my passions without fear of being judged.
Sagittarius
I can embrace my curiosity without needing to have all the answers. It’s okay to seek adventure without fearing the unknown. My worth isn’t defined by how much I accomplish or achieve. I can learn from my mistakes without harsh self-judgment. I don’t need to conform to others’ expectations of me. It’s okay to enjoy spontaneity and explore new horizons. I can trust my intuition to guide my decisions. I am allowed to seek joy and meaning in my life. I can celebrate my freedom without guilt. It’s okay to take risks and embrace uncertainty. I can focus on my journey without comparing it to others. I trust that my experiences are valid and meaningful. I can learn from every adventure, regardless of the outcome. I can find balance between exploration and responsibility. I am worthy of pursuing my dreams and aspirations.
Capricorn
It’s okay to take my time in achieving my goals. I can redefine success on my own terms. My worth isn’t tied to my professional accomplishments. I can embrace vulnerability without fearing judgment. I don’t need to have everything figured out to move forward. It’s okay to ask for support when I need it. I can learn from setbacks without labeling myself a failure. I trust that my hard work will pay off in time. I can celebrate small wins along the way. I am allowed to take breaks without feeling guilty. I can find joy in the journey, not just the destination. It’s okay to prioritize my well-being alongside my ambitions. I can trust my intuition when making important decisions. I am worthy of success and happiness, regardless of my past. I can balance my responsibilities with self-care.
Aquarius
I can embrace my uniqueness without feeling the need to conform. It’s okay to question the status quo; my ideas matter. My worth isn’t tied to how others perceive me. I can connect with others without losing my individuality. I don’t need to fit into a mold to be valuable. It’s okay to prioritize my needs while still supporting others. I can trust my intuition when exploring new paths. I can celebrate my differences as strengths. It’s okay to change my mind and evolve my beliefs. I can find joy in community without losing myself. I am allowed to take time for self-reflection and growth. I can pursue my passions without seeking external validation. I trust that my contributions are meaningful, even if they’re not recognized right away. I can embrace my quirks as part of my identity. I am worthy of love and acceptance, just as I am.
Pisces
It’s okay to feel deeply; my emotions are valid. I can embrace my sensitivity as a gift, not a burden. My worth isn’t tied to how others perceive my dreams. I can trust my intuition to guide me through uncertainty. I don’t need to have everything figured out to find my path. It’s okay to take time for self-care and reflection. I can find strength in vulnerability without fearing judgment. I can express my creativity freely without seeking approval. It’s okay to let go of what no longer serves me. I can appreciate the beauty in imperfection. I am allowed to explore my spirituality without limits. I can trust the flow of life, even when it feels chaotic. I am worthy of love and connection, no matter my past experiences. I can celebrate my dreams without feeling guilty about them. I can find peace in the present moment without needing to control everything.
H O U S E S
1st House
I am allowed to express my true self without fear. My individuality is valuable and worthy. I can embrace my uniqueness without needing to fit in. I am in control of my life and my choices. It’s okay to prioritize my needs; I am important. I can create my own identity and narrative. I trust my instincts to guide me in new situations. It’s okay to take my time to discover who I am. I am worthy of love and respect just as I am. I can celebrate my personal achievements without comparison. I embrace my body as a vessel for my spirit. It’s okay to assert myself and express my needs. I can accept compliments and acknowledge my strengths. I am allowed to change and grow without judgment. I can enjoy the journey of self-discovery.
2nd House
I can find security within myself, not just in possessions. My self-worth is inherent and not defined by wealth. I can enjoy what I have without focusing on what I lack. It’s okay to pursue my desires without feeling guilty. I can appreciate my talents and how they contribute to my life. I trust that my efforts will lead to abundance. I can create value through my experiences, not just my things. It’s okay to set boundaries around my resources. I am allowed to prioritize my financial well-being. I can celebrate my achievements without comparison. I can learn from past financial mistakes and move forward. I can express my needs without fear of judgment. I appreciate the stability I create in my life. I can build a future that aligns with my values. I am worthy of abundance in all forms.
3rd House
I can share my thoughts freely without worrying about being perfect. My voice is important and deserves to be heard. It’s okay to ask questions; curiosity is a strength. I can express my ideas confidently without seeking approval. I can appreciate the process of learning, not just the outcome. I trust my ability to communicate effectively. It’s okay to take time to gather my thoughts. I can find value in each conversation and interaction. I don’t need to know everything to contribute meaningfully. I can learn from my mistakes without harsh judgment. It’s okay to change my perspective as I gain new information. I can celebrate my growth in communication skills. I can find joy in sharing knowledge and experiences. I can connect with others while honoring my individuality. I am worthy of expressing myself in every way.
4th House
I can create a safe space for myself at home. It’s okay to prioritize my emotional well-being. My past does not define my worth. I can honor my feelings without judgment. It’s okay to seek comfort in solitude when needed. I can nurture myself just as I nurture others. I trust my instincts about what feels safe and secure. I can set boundaries in my family dynamics. I can appreciate my roots while forging my own path. It’s okay to express my emotions without fear. I can find joy in creating a peaceful home environment. I can explore my past to better understand myself. I am worthy of love and acceptance from my family and myself. I can celebrate my heritage without feeling restricted by it. I can seek healing and growth in my personal life.
5th House
I can explore my creativity without fearing judgment. It’s okay to pursue my passions wholeheartedly. My worth isn’t tied to how successful I am in my endeavors. I can enjoy the process of creation, not just the end result. It’s okay to express my joy and playfulness openly. I am allowed to take risks in my creative pursuits. I can celebrate my unique talents without comparison. I can find fulfillment in my hobbies and interests. It’s okay to dream big and pursue what brings me joy. I trust my intuition to guide my creative expression. I can appreciate the beauty of my individuality. I can enjoy spontaneity in my life without fear. It’s okay to share my ideas without needing everyone’s approval. I can find joy in the simple pleasures of life. I am worthy of love and happiness, regardless of my achievements.
6th House
I can prioritize my health and well-being without guilt. It’s okay to take breaks and practice self-care. My worth isn’t tied to my productivity. I can embrace my imperfections as part of my journey. It’s okay to ask for help when I need it. I can find joy in everyday tasks without feeling burdened. I trust my body and its needs to guide me. I can appreciate my progress without harsh judgment. It’s okay to create routines that serve me well. I can learn from my experiences and grow from them. I can focus on my well-being without neglecting my responsibilities. I can celebrate my small victories along the way. It’s okay to let go of the need to be perfect in everything I do. I am worthy of balance and fulfillment in my life. I can find joy in serving others while also serving myself.
7th House
I can build meaningful connections without losing myself. It’s okay to express my needs and desires in relationships. My worth isn’t tied to my relationship status. I can appreciate the beauty of collaboration without comparison. It’s okay to seek support from others while being independent. I can set boundaries that honor my emotional well-being. I can learn from my relationships without feeling defined by them. I can celebrate the uniqueness of my partnerships. It’s okay to embrace vulnerability in my connections. I trust my instincts to guide my relationships. I can find joy in deepening my bonds with others. I am worthy of love and respect in all my relationships. It’s okay to let go of toxic relationships for my well-being. I can appreciate the lessons learned from past partnerships. I can find strength in being open and honest with others.
8th House
I can embrace my emotions without fear of vulnerability. It’s okay to explore my depths and the unknown. My worth isn’t defined by my past experiences. I can trust my instincts to guide me through challenges. I can set boundaries that honor my emotional needs. It’s okay to seek healing and transformation. I can find strength in embracing change and letting go. I can appreciate the power of my personal growth. I don’t need to control everything to feel secure. I can learn from my struggles without harsh self-judgment. I can explore my passions without fear of being judged. I am worthy of deep connections and intimacy. It’s okay to take time for self-reflection and healing. I can celebrate my resilience in facing challenges. I can find beauty in the process of transformation.
9th House
I can embrace my curiosity and desire to learn. It’s okay to seek adventure and explore new ideas. My worth isn’t tied to my accomplishments or credentials. I can appreciate the journey of discovery, not just the destination. It’s okay to ask questions and seek knowledge. I can trust my intuition to guide me in exploring new paths. I can find joy in diverse perspectives and experiences. I don’t need to have all the answers to be valuable. I can learn from every experience, regardless of the outcome. I can celebrate my growth without comparing myself to others. It’s okay to take risks in pursuit of my dreams. I can balance my aspirations with my responsibilities. I can find fulfillment in my quest for knowledge. I am worthy of exploring the world and my beliefs. I can enjoy spontaneity while pursuing my passions.
10th House
I can define success on my own terms. It’s okay to pursue my goals at my own pace. My worth isn’t tied to my job title or public image. I can embrace vulnerability in my career pursuits. It’s okay to seek support and guidance from others. I can learn from setbacks and view them as opportunities for growth. I trust my hard work will pay off in time. I can celebrate small achievements along the way. It’s okay to take breaks without feeling guilty. I can find joy in the journey of my career, not just the destination. I can balance my ambitions with self-care. I can focus on my passions without external pressure. I am worthy of success and fulfillment in my professional life. I can define what it means to be successful for me. I can create a legacy that reflects my true self.
11th House
I can embrace my individuality while connecting with others. It’s okay to seek friendships that align with my values. My worth isn’t tied to my social status or popularity. I can express my ideas freely within my community. I can appreciate the diversity of perspectives without comparison. It’s okay to prioritize my needs while still supporting others. I trust that my voice matters in group settings. I can learn from my relationships without feeling defined by them. I can celebrate my unique contributions to my community. It’s okay to let go of friendships that no longer serve me. I can find joy in collaborative efforts without losing myself. I am worthy of love and acceptance from my social circles. I can take time to reflect on my goals and aspirations. I can celebrate my individuality and the value I bring to others.
I can explore new connections that inspire and uplift me. It’s okay to express my dreams and aspirations within my community. I can find strength in my vulnerabilities and authenticity in my relationships.
12th House
I can embrace my sensitivity as a unique strength. It’s okay to take time for solitude and self-reflection. My worth isn’t tied to my past experiences or mistakes. I can trust my intuition to guide me through uncertain times. It’s okay to seek support when I need it. I can explore my spirituality without limits or judgment. I can find peace in letting go of what no longer serves me. I appreciate the journey of self-discovery I’m on. I don’t need to have everything figured out to move forward. It’s okay to celebrate my dreams and aspirations without guilt. I can embrace my emotions without feeling overwhelmed. I trust that I am worthy of love and acceptance just as I am. I can find strength in my vulnerability and authenticity. It’s okay to focus on my inner world without fear of judgment. I am allowed to dream and explore without limitations.
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#𝗚!𝗠𝗠!𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘.
𖤍 uramichi giving his pretty gf a creampie <33
cw. fem! reader, established relationship, cumming inside (use condoms irl!!), creampie, strength kink, rough sex, mating press, clit stimulation, cervical stimulation, squirting, big cock & overstimulation.
lati. have this while i finish up my other bigger wips lmao,,
» NAVIGATION «
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You love it when your boyfriend fucks you stupid, trapping you underneath his well-built body until he can't possibly cum anymore. He's always fucking you like his life depends on it, but you like it when he fucks your cunt so messily n sloppily. Always needing Uramichi to bend you over the nearest surface bc all you can really think about is how nice and good his dick feels inside your pussy. Your fingers could never compare to his twiddling with your swollen clit until you're creaming around his fat cock.
Uramichi's strong enough to fold you in half, effectively trapping you in a mating press that will surely leave you in a fucked-out state. It's always been a favorite of his, but who could blame him? His pretty girlfriend happily letting him use her pussy, wet insides rapidly fluttering and taking everything he has to give despite the overstimulation just gets him so hot and bothered. So he can't help it when he gets so lost in the pleasure of your gummy pussy that he forgets he isn't wearing a condom.
"IーfuckーI forgot to buy condomsーsh-shit, quit squeezing..!" Rasping like his lungs are about to give out, Uramichi grinds down into your pussy, thick cockhead nearly kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.
The muscles in your legs burn, aching to rest, but you just feel so, so good. Even if the lack of circulation in your limbs has made them long since go numb, you really don't want Uramichi to stop fucking you. You want to think of nothing but the unending good coursing through your veins, wanting it to continue forever even if your legs hurt like hell.
"S'okay... y.. you can cum inside..!" You don't know what possessed you to say that, you know what'll happen if he cums inside. But the risk of it is tantalizing enough to make you forget all of your reasoning and clarity. "So.. make sure to cum inside a loー"
You aren't given a second to breathe, much less hold in your lewd moans as Uramichi pounds down into you faster, harder, leaving you a shaking mess barely clinging onto him. Each of his vigorous thrusts pushes his cock further inside your plush walls, heavy balls smacking against your puffy folds as he rasps and groans like a man starved.
"Shit, s'so fuckin' tight.. so damn good.." His nibs and wetly sucks at your neck without thought as though it's the only thing he knows, "Fuck, it's—I'm--!"
It's odd, the sensation of your pussy being filled with thick spurts of Uramichi's release, but you can't deny that it feels good. Your mind feels like mush, vision blurry as you cum around his length. Choked sobs and weak whimpers of his name are the only noises you can make, the overwhelming good rendering you stupid.
Your stomach now feels warm, fuller than you ever felt before. It's a nice feeling, having Uramichi's thick cum spilt inside your pussy, even if you're risking getting knocked up. You decide that you'd like him to cum inside again.
Wheezing, you rapidly blink away the fat tears filling your eyes and attempt to flex your toes, and heave a sigh when the digits give a weak twitch. Good, your legs are at least still somewhat functional.
"Hey.. you okay?" A soft kiss is pressed against your jaw, and your boyfriend's handsome visage is gazing down at you fondly, as though he hadn't just fucked you senseless moments before.
"Yeah," you release air that you didn't even know you were holding in. He smiles fondly and nods, before collapsing his forehead against your collarbone. He breathes in your scent, basking in the passing moment of your togetherness. Your legs are numb now, but you don't care, not right now.
" 'Michi?"
"Hm?" He shifts against your neck, listening in his dazed state.
"Can you cum inside me again?♡"
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© latimeriafellfromheaven
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miraclemaya · 2 months ago
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Fairy Quest
You have lived a rather lonely existence for the twenty years you have been alive. Without the company of friends or colleagues, you often spend your time in deep contemplation on a variety of topics. Today, your mother has asked you to leave the house and get some groceries from the grocery store. 
You decide to walk. The grocery store is far, but not so far that it is impossible to reach it by foot. The only problem is that the quickest route is through The Woods. You enjoy walking through The Woods, but it does evoke feelings of fear and discontent in you often. 
As you walk, the environment around you slowly shifts from the illusion of stability and control that the suburbs provide to the chaotic realm that is nature. The walk is nice, the cold morning air providing you a clarity of mind you often lack. Things feel as though they have an extra quality of truth in the morning air. 
This quality of truth is perhaps why you are not surprised to see a fairy lazily float its way towards you. 
“Hello.” The fairy says, waving a hand towards you. 
“Hello.” You reply, warnings of the dangers of the fey coming to your mind. 
“I don't have a name for you to steal. Sorry.” You add, hastily. 
There is a beat of silence, and you try your hardness to stop the tears from coming. 
“You don’t have a name? That's… well, that’s rather bizarre.” The fairy does not seem to believe you, and looks at you as if you're insane. 
“I gave it to another fairy.” You explain, embarrassed. 
“You…. How are you walking about freely? Surely you would be in that fairy’s thrall.” The fairy crosses its arms. 
You take a moment to decide whether it would be polite or not to talk about such a thing. Unfortunately for you, you don't really understand what it means to be polite. No one actually told you. 
“Well, she took my name after I offered it because she was sad. She was going to take me too, but….” You hesitate for a moment, but the fairy nods its head as if to say, go on. 
“I orgasmed the moment she touched me, and she was grossed out by that, so she left me there.”
The fairy floats a few inches further away from you, and you feel a rift of burning void open up in your chest. You ignore it because you are trying to have a conversation. 
“That's… That's kind of pathetic.” The fairy pulls a face which you are given to believe means it's disgusted by you. 
“Ah, she said the same thing.” You inform the fairy, voice approaching a sing-song tone.
“Do… are you like… okay?”
The question puzzles you. You are obviously okay, though you aren't quite sure what okay is. No one actually told you, after all. 
“I'm okay. I have to buy groceries.” You nod your head. That's right, you need to buy groceries. 
“I'll, uh, lead you out of here.” The words come out slowly, but the fairy gestures for you to follow it. 
“Ah, thank you, that's really kind.” You reach out to shake its hand before realizing that it is both too small and too disgusted by you to want to reciprocate such a gesture. You aren't sure what you are supposed to do in this situation, so you stand there for a moment, thinking really hard. 
“Are you coming?” The fairy sounds tired. You hope it feels better later.
“Oh, sorry.” You follow the fairy and soon enough you are in the grocery store. 
“Thank you again.” You give the fairy a thumbs up, which it doesn't seem to appreciate. 
“Just. Just grab what you need.”
You nod your head and go inside the store. 
It takes you twenty minutes to find what you need. 
First, whole wheat bread, thinly sliced. Second, four tomatoes. You spend three minutes making sure you pick the best tomatoes available. Third, tomato paste. Fourth, chicken breast. You remember hearing about how if the plastic is pushed up, that means the chicken has started to decompose. You spend some time pressing your hand to the chicken breast containers to see which one is the flattest. Fifth, you buy some oranges. 
You get into line, and soon enough you are standing in front of the cashier. You reach for your wallet and then freeze. 
You forgot to bring your wallet. 
You put away all the objects you have gathered and leave the store. The fairy is still there, but you don’t pay attention as you walk back home. It seems annoyed with you. 
When you get back home, your mom yells at you when she sees you don't have the groceries. Your mouth refuses to move, so instead you walk upstairs and go to your room. Your wallet is sitting on your desk, in perfect view. You grab it and leave the house. 
The fairy is still there, which surprises you. You were sure it was going to leave. In the absence of words, you show it your wallet. 
“You forgot to bring money? I could have just spotted you the money, you know.”
This is news to you! You were not aware that fairies carried currency. You want to question it further, but unfortunately your voice has seemed to have left you.
You get back to the grocery store again, this time at a much faster pace. Thankfully, no one has looted your hard chosen items, and soon enough you are standing outside the store, having paid for everything you needed. 
“Thank you.” You finally manage. 
The fairy nods slowly, and leads you back home. It waves at you, and you wave back and then go back inside. 
QUEST COMPLETE
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rottenpumpkin13 · 5 months ago
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how often does gen has with a panic attack? how would he deal with them when they occur in public?
If you were to ask him directly, Genesis would vehemently deny that he experiences them, the notion implying panic, a loss of composure and an anxiety about life that he, in his profound maturity and wisdom, simply does not entertain. However, for the sake of clarity, kindly avert your eyes if you ever find him:
• Sprawled down on the ground in a corner outside the training room, following a defeat by Sephiroth (the 21st consecutive defeat over three months) tears streaming down his face as he compulsively cleans his sword, mouthing, "I'm enough, It's fine, I'm just tired, I didn't try hard enough, I just have to try harder."
• In the men's restroom, meticulously adjusting his appearance: fixing his hair, scrutinizing his skin for imperfections, straightening his coat, and repeating the process over and over, each futile adjustment seemingly aimed at achieving an image of perfection, as if the sixteenth time he adjusts his collar might finally make him like his own appearance.
• On the battlefield, during the aftermath of a reckless charge towards a creature that required Angeal to rescue him, bloodied and unresponsive, his gaze fixed upon the lifeless form of a dead monster that he couldn't kill. He's hyperventilating, his chest rising and falling in quick succession, and the words Angeal chastises him with fall on deaf ears.
• Curled up on a leather armchair in the lounge on the 49th floor, the sharp sound of ripping notebook pages the only sounds in the air as Genesis continues to massacre his writing notebook in a fit of anxiety. You might ask him what's wrong, alarmed by the sight. He might look up, pausing to burn one of his poems. "What's that? You're concerned?" He'll click his tongue. "Don't mind me, just reeling from the realization that my poetic endeavors are futile."
• Sobbing—and I do mean sobbing—and unsuccessfully stifling unhealthy coughs somewhere outside Dr. Hollander's lab, his tone shifted in a way that indicates illness. He's hunched over, hands on his knees with a curious document in his left hand, the right one being used to compulsively wipe away tears. It's the second letter to Lazard this month advising against Genesis' participation in mission operations due to his health—or lack thereof.
• Knee-deep in the third wave of panic as he hides away in the armory on the 49th floor, hastily rubbing more and more product on Masamune's blade, desperately trying to make that ghastly scratch go away. Hiccups can be heard, as well as the telltale sounds of hyperventilating and "please, please, please, please," as he grows more and more desperate. He had been messing around with Sephiroth's sword, feeding his curiosity as he tried to see what it would be like to be Sephiroth, if only for a second. And now, because he lacked the goddess forsaken skill and finesse to handle it, he was about to lose his best friend.
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chantsdemarins · 7 months ago
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🏰Breath of the Æsir {Loki X Fem.Reader} Chapter 3: Stories Cannot Burn or Disappear
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I am so sorry these chapters are taking me so long. I haven't been the same since Covid! I hope the quality is still good...Thank you for joining my crazy medieval AU Loki fever dream era.
There is a bit of Easter and eclipse magic wound up in this chapter!
Summary: Loki isn't the only one who thinks you are more than a human woman, which buys you time while you figure out how to keep your manor and tenants safe. However, the challenge of nursing a debilitated, power-stripped god adds a layer of complexity to your already daunting task, clouding your judgment when clarity is most needed.
Note to Reader: Yes, Hozier is now a character, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you 😭 But which character will he be? Guess and comment!
Passion and Romance Meter: Nothing explicit yet but hopefully you feel it boiling.
I hope these people don't mind being tagged! I thought you might want to be tagged! Please let me know if you don't want the tag or if you want to be tagged. Also comments and reblogs are healing and joyous for me!
@arcielee @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @thomase1 @mcufan72 @caffiend-queen @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @sailorholly @lokisgoodgirl @shambelle97 @lokischambermaid @eleniblue @smolvenger @wheredafandomat @hiroyukinasukawa @meowmeow-motherfucker @latent-thoughts @buttercupcookies-blog @lcolumbia1988 @soulpiercing @wolfsmom1 @mysticmarvelfan
@holdmytesseract @superficialdomina @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @mjsthrillernp @arcielee @poetic-fiasco @gruftiela @thegodofnotknowing @thedistractedagglomeration @tallseaweed
@dangertoozmanykids101 @jennyggggrrr
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The clay soil in your husband’s land hadn’t fully absorbed the blood of the Christian god. Not yet at least. The claustrophobic land was hemmed by bogs and marshes, lowlands with the familiar wooden gods made from branches poking out of the muddy banks. The tides to the east would fill the saturated earth till she could take no more before becoming a lake. This system of pooling respiration created a natural barrier for the people. The stillness of the water meant you didn’t stop for long, just enough time to plant your wooden god or light a beeswax candle, burn some leaves as an offering, and then find fast footing across the rickety log bridges built by people no one could remember.
In spring, a carpet of blue wood betony would appear. The town's folk's talk led you to forage it, keeping the blossoms and stems in dark Roman glass, tucked on the kitchen shelf next to the salt. Your husband never noticed your collection, or if he did, he never mentioned it as anything particular or strange. It was a relief to find plants that grew elsewhere, unlike the state of the manor land — high on a hill, flanked by rocky, sandy soil. Collecting plants often made you wonder if Christ might rise from the bogs. You'd just have to wait and see, you supposed, imagining Christ emerging naked from the thick peaty waters, stray herbs clinging to his torso.
Perhaps when Loki showed up, bleeding from his stomach, you'd envisioned something like that before. That desert man had a different name, Jesus of Nazareth. You blushed at the thought of any man, holy or common.
Yet, you didn't blush much while sewing Loki back up. Stitches plunged down his torso into places you'd only seen hinted at on the marble body of Jupiter in Eboracum. Your confident needlework proved itself. If your cheeks reddened, it wasn't from embarrassment but from lack of oxygen, struggling to breathe. Saving a life required haste, much different from the crafts of passing time.
The day the Northmen came you had been already struggling to breathe, you’d lost your air completely and found Loki’s form in front of you when your eyes finally opened again. His hair like ash from the hearth, his eyes the most peculiar color of blue, much like the betony in your waiting Roman jars. Just where had you gone when you’d lost your air? Loki had refused to confront the Danes, refused to fight them. He had handed you back his weapon, leaving you to confront the invaders yourself.
After all, you became a manor wife because your origins had burned in your village's fire, but not in the stories that followed. Stories cannot burn or disappear, especially when people fleeing tell them to the right people in the countryside. Your husband's family had heard your father's tales and believed him. Your hand in marriage was worth more than any dowry. It was all the more disappointing when you couldn't produce an heir or embroidery, and the manor lands remained sandy, rocky, and haunted. You hadn't known a husband should stay close or lie with his wife until Elinor finally told you. Your confidence to heal a stranger, to meet the Northmen at their boat, came from your father. He told you who you were, and like the manor people, you believed him — even if you didn't understand what you were.
The sky had darkened as you came to the mahogany longship anchored next to the wind-ravaged cliffs. You knew to avert your eyes from the mast, the Northern dragon guardian was designed to kill folk such as you. A provocation to your ancestors. There was confusion at their camp, what seemed like hundreds of men were pointing above and shaking their heads. A seer had cast the runes, and the chieftain seemed to not like what the seer had spoken. The rugged man looked up at the sky once more and sent what looked like an envoy to you. He blamed the Norns and you in yet another language you didn’t understand. He could not kill you because it would only curse them more.
Stunned, your trembling hands clutched Loki's blade in disbelief. You ran beneath the still darkening sky, which seemed poised for rain, though no clouds were visible. Looking up, you saw something unimaginable. A planet had fully eclipsed the sun. Your people knew of these events, but you had not witnessed one yourself. As you ran you wondered if the land's spirits had cast a powerful enough curse to scare the Northmen.
Returning home, you found only Loki in the makeshift courtyard, fever-ridden, slumped over the fence. Your heart sank, fearing he was actually dead this time. But the breath of the Æsir still moved through him, you could see his chest moving as you approached.
The village was silent, its people hiding. The only sound was the wind stirring the grain fields and the oak leaves in a dry, papery rhythm. Loki beckoned you inside but he was barely able to move to the porch, he was already worried you’d absorbed too much of the darkness. You fell into his arms, wincing from the feel of his fevered skin through your shift. Significantly taller, Loki's limbs resembled a freshly felled hawthorn. You dragged him closer to the front door, you both were exhausted in the strange day of night.
Your efforts paused for a moment, you readjusted your grip on the stranger. "Saturn is passing over the sun, an eclipse," Loki murmured, breaths faint and labored. How did he know this? Such knowledge was native only to your people. Still reeling from scaring off the Danes, you now faced an eclipse. Loki speculated on the Northmen's possible interpretation of the event. Since much of their knowledge came from his world, he felt he knew exactly what they must have felt seeing the sky darken as you approached.
"They saw the eclipse as a sign of your power. They recognize planetary transits. As you approached them, Saturn crossed the sun's path, a coincidence perhaps in your favor," Loki continued. "But they'll return, and we need to be ready," he cautioned, aware of your mutual defenselessness. He felt responsible for the deaths across these isles, seeking balance, an unfamiliar concept.
You had wanted him to stay long enough to know who he was but now it appeared like he wasn't well enough to be able to leave, even if that is what you both wanted. The truth was, part of you didn't want him to go at all. There was something about him. He knew some of the old ways and where ever he had come from, you suspected again, he had once held a high status.
Loki also continued to contemplate your shared fates. Did the Norns truly allow for this meeting between you as part of the path of the raven’s wingspan, his destiny as a god with no power. He dared to speak to you some of his true thoughts. He felt he owed you some kind of explanation for his resistance to fighting on your behalf.
“Lady, I wish I could help you but as you see I am unwell from my wounds. When I heal, I would like to help you defend your home as part of my thanks, I will find a way to do that does not involve fighting. We have the cosmos on our side it seems, so perhaps there is more luck for our coming together. This is of course if you will continue to have me.”
His pale face seemed even more ghastly, and he laid his body on the porch in a heap, looking very similar to how you first found him. You felt a tenderness stir. You’d felt it for him when you were saving him but now it was tinged with worry for both of your lives and everyone who depended on you.
“Loki I don't want to heal you twice, but it seems this is my fate. Let’s see what you have within you still and if your Gods are listening. I expect you will tell me why you refuse to fight or why you cannot. You owe me the truth. There is much you are not saying.”
He knew he would not be able to hide himself from you as you seemed unable to hide yourself from him. The circumstances unfolding seemed like the actions of reverse spells, instead of concealing they were revealing who you both were. This was vexing to you both.
Despite his sincere words to you, Loki was not sure this troubled land was his final destination. He wondered if he should try and leave as soon as he was able. He was speaking with two tongues. Perhaps he should venture south, go to the Midgard places where panther Gods and pyramids covered in gold existed. Those people were said to do the bidding of the gods with even more ferocity than the Northmen.
Instead, he was sick with fever and stuck with a mysterious, beautiful, and angry woman, whose husband could return at any moment and kill him for what it looked like was happening, even in the middle of a possible invasion. Suddenly his reverie broke as you lifted his shirt to inspect his wound. Your worry for his fever could wait no longer.
"Lady," he said as he batted your hand away.
You protested back, “I have seen you already, why would you be shy now stranger? I need to check your wound, you are feverish,” you continued to pull up his shirt. His gash had indeed become weeping and likely the source of his fever. Whether you liked it or not, you were healing him once again it seemed.
“Wood betony, that is what you need, you are lucky I have some. I’ll see to it Elinor makes you a poultice, and then I am putting you in one of the downstairs bedrooms.” Your eyes were worried even if your words were not. Loki placed his weakened hand on your shoulder, and spoke solemnly, “You know, we need to find your husband.”
You turned your face from him, you didn’t want Loki to notice even the smallest bit of feeling.
“Of course, that is a good idea, this is his manor and his people after all,” you replied. “We can leave when the fever breaks and you can walk without me carrying half your weight,” there was the slightest tinge of playfulness in your words to your surprise. You hoped he did not notice.
As the day was moving into evening, the villagers whispered their suspicions about the stranger you aided. The darkened sky had unsettled them as much as the Northmen. Loki was right, without your husband the manor would devolve into chaos and this would leave the village even more vulnerable.
You watched Loki slowly drag his body to the downstairs bedroom and close the thick doors behind him before you had the chance to redirect him or wish him a good night. You thought better to tell him that he had gone into your husband’s bedroom not the servant’s quarters you had intended for him to rest.
You felt your stomach twist in knots. If your husband came home tonight the wrong impression you worried you would make, would surely be inevitable. You would have to go and move Loki once you were done with your chores. A prospect that left you even more anxious.
Finally, when everyone had gone to sleep and Elinor had gone to her quarters, you stood alone in the empty house contemplating what you should do next. Sleep seemed an impossibility. The eclipse had only been five minutes, but it disturbed the entire day. Now it was nearly midnight and it felt like morning. All time had shifted somehow. Loki sleeping in your husband's bedroom loomed in your head.
To quiet your thoughts you found yourself in the kitchen, sometimes cooking felt relaxing even if you were not good at it. Instead tonight you eyed the row of bottles on your shelf. There was something else calling to you. You grabbed a jar of mistletoe berries, and held them in your hands. Their color was startling.
Suddenly you busying yourself muddling them with the mortar and pestle. If there was a recipe to follow you did not know it, you pulled a few more bottles off the shelf and added the ingredients. Mullein leaves and blackberry.
Pausing for a moment you felt that Loki’s knife was still around your body, you had placed it in a leather holder diagonally across your chest, and forgotten it was there. The knife passed over your breasts and you couldn’t help but touch the length of it.
You hadn't the time to have paid much attention to it before. You noticed the unusual, rich craftsmanship. The inlay was extraordinary. Garnets and chrysoprase. You then gently pulled it out of the holder and carefully pricked your finger with the impossibly sharp tip. This action surprised you.
You inhaled deeply. Crimson blood rolled down your finger and into the stone mixing bowl. You placed your still bleeding fingertip into your mouth hoping to quickly stem the bleeding, but the knife had been too sharp, or you cut yourself too deep.
Quickly, you sucked the wound, blood filling your mouth. You spat the excess into the bowl and placed it on the windowsill, intuitively sensing it needed the moonlight. Just then you heard a deep voice behind you. You were frozen in place, unable to turn around. It was Loki.
"I had no idea you were a seer, you could have told me that sooner and it would have cleared things up," his words rich with sleep and something else.
When you finally turned around you saw he was only wearing his leather trousers and the poultice. Your heart produced a wild, unfamiliar beat, and you steadied yourself against the kitchen table. You weren't a seer, but you could not explain what you were just doing or what you were now feeling.
Before you could stop him, Loki took your mixture from the sill and drank it. "My gods what have you done?" the startled words fell out of your mouth as he placed the now empty bowl back into your hands.
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blackflash9 · 5 months ago
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Reflections of the Kenway Family
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A fascinating aspect of the saga is how each Kenway encounters someone on their journey who mirrors another family member and their respective character arc.
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Connor meets Thomas Hickey — a man whose vanity and hedonistic greedy nature are very reminiscent of Edward and are a dark look into what he could've been if he had given entirely into his selfish desires. The way that Hickey's cynical nature contrasts with Connor's idealism is also a very similar dynamic to Edward's interactions with other characters such as Adewale, Mary Reed, Anto, and Ah Tabai.
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Edward meets Duncan Walpole - a disillusioned Assassin-turned-Templar, foreshadowing the fate that will later befall his son. Edward's act of killing Duncan and posing as an Assassin mirrors what Haytham will become in the future. Another notable parallel between them is the theme of betrayal.
Reginald Birch's betrayal of Edward transforms Haytham into a Templar, while Walpole's betrayal inadvertently turns Edward into an Assassin. Unlike Duncan, whose commitment to the Creed is nonexistent, self-serving, and morally compromised, Haytham's ideological convictions in the Templar Order are resolute, unwavering, and uncompromising.
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Haytham encounters Shay - an idealist with unwavering convictions, dedicated to protecting the innocent at any cost. Shay serves as a dark reflection of what Connor might have become without introspection, failing to forge his own identity. This lack of self-discovery makes Shay's virtues easily manipulated by others. In contrast, Connor continuously grapples with the demands of the Assassin's Creed and the diverse intentions and motivations of the people he meets on his journey, questioning and seeking to understand the world around him. ______________________________________________________________ ['On Johnson's Trail' Transcript] Connor: I was hoping you could help me locate William Johnson. Samuel: Of course. I'm headed to a meeting with some men who should be able to help. Why don't you come along? It's good to see the people finally taking a stand against injustice... Connor: Says the man who owns a slave. Samuel: Who, Surry? I practice what I preach, my friend. She's not a slave, but a freed woman... At least on paper. Men's minds are not so easily turned. It is a tragedy that for all our progress, still we cling to such barbarism. Connor: Then speak out against it. Samuel: We must focus first on defending our rights. When this is done, we'll have the luxury of addressing these other matters. Connor: You speak as though your condition is equal to that of the slaves. It is not. Samuel: Tell that to my neighbor—who was compelled to quarter British troops. Or to my friend whose store was closed because he displeased the Crown. The people here are no freer than Surry. Connor: You offer excuses instead of solutions. All people should be equal and not in turns. ______________________________________________________________ ['The Midnight Ride' Transcript] Connor: I thought it might bring clarity. Or instill a sense of accomplishment. But all I feel is regret.
Achilles: Hold fast to that. Such sacrifices must never come lightly.
Connor: I had to do it. Not only for my people, but for all the others Johnson would have harmed. ______________________________________________________________ ['Alternate Methods' Transcript]
Connor: I have been reunited with my father, but do not yet know if this bodes well or ill. Our goals are aligned, at least so far as independence is concerned. But he continues to defend Charles Lee— the man who murdered my mother and burned my village... Still, he makes a point about Washington and those who back him. I hear much talk of freedom and equality, but it seems one must be a landed white man to benefit. What of someone like me? Or Surry? What role for us in this new world? Is my father right, then? There is so much I must consider and so little time in which to do it. ______________________________________________________________ In contrast to Connor, Shay falls victim to their own self-induced tunnel vision, becoming ensnared in fanaticism and operating under a pragmatic "ends justify the means" mentality that he turned against his own Brotherhood for harboring. This vulnerability renders him a perfect tool and pawn for the Templars, diverging sharply from Connor's path of self-awareness, principles, and independence.
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boundinparchment · 1 year ago
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Dream a Little Dream of Me - XLIX
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Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. Soulmate AU; Il Dottore/Female reader w/ established personality and backstory. Slow burn. Lore and world speculation and interpretation within; follows canon story where possible. Rated Explicit; MDNI. Mind the tags. Chapter also posted on AO3; accessible to registered users only.
Rare were the moments when your hand reached out beneath the sheets and comforters and found not only warmth but the source of it. Sunlight began to bleed through the cracks in the drapes, dawn grazing the mountainside like a forlorn lover. You rolled over and, in the dim light, found dilated crimson eyes already watching you.
You slipped your hand out of the sanctuary of the covers and traced the lines of Zandik’s jaw and neck. He shifted slightly under your touch and, as if on instinct, your feet and legs tangled with his. Half-awake, your breath hitched when you moved even closer, acutely aware of the precarious position of his thigh between yours and how little your nightwear did when your breasts pressed against his chest.
“Usually you’re up by now,” you murmured.
Zandik’s voice was laced with sleep, his chuckle more like a low rumble in his chest as his hand found your hair and played idly with a stray lock.
“I am discovering these moments are not to be taken for granted,” he replied.
“Perfect for observation, you mean.”
He turned his head and pressed his lips to the inside of your wrist as your fingers grazed the hairline of his temple. You felt the twitch of the corner of his mouth and soft breath against your skin.
“Observation implies a lack of practical application. One of which happens to be that, for once, my thoughts are sharper, full of clarity when I’m around you. They were loud before, intrusive; the Segments and Omega muddled everything and for so long, I could not understand how or even if you were meant to find a place with me.”
The revelation was not entirely new. You were already aware of the deep-rooted sentiments and bias he held against the very fabric that kept you two together. Nonetheless, to hear it spoken tugged at your essence and warmth flooded through your chest. Your fingers reached and grazed at teal curls, as if you could hold this moment in your hands, keep it safe.
"This is different for you," you said softly. "Borderline romantic."
"I've been known to be charming from time to time."
You gave a skeptical hum, answered only by the careful graze of lips against yours and an arm ensnaring your waist. Heat flooded through you, running from your cheeks to your stomach, curling lower as your heart skipped. One kiss gave way to another, and then another, a hunger long buried awakening as you brushed your tongue against Zandik’s, deepening the kiss and unwilling to part.
This was so much better than the exploratory fragments of dreams before you saw his eyes. Better than the languid brushes of fingers and mingled breaths, long discussions that made you dizzy and left an ache behind when you woke.
An ache that accompanied a growing eagerness you wished wasn’t accompanied by a pang of shame and mingled with so many other memories impossible to tell apart.
More, more, more. You craved more. You craved him. Agency was yours, all you had to do was—
Leveraging your heel behind Zandik’s calf, you closed the remaining distance, pressing yourself against his thigh. You shuddered at the pressure against the clothed apex of your thighs, your wet heat searing despite the layers between you; his pants were tight and it was impossible to ignore that he too was eager. For a moment Zandik tensed, one of his hands beneath you on your waist as the other splayed across your lower back.
“I have been exceedingly curious about how else we fit together,” he whispered before he kissed you again, sucking slightly on your lower lip. “I have not found accurate accounts that do not devolve into poetic nonsense.”
It was your turn to smirk when you shifted your hips and pressed yourself further against him, friction sending a jolt through your aching core. The hand on your back exerted pressure and you bucked at the sweet jolt that ran through you. His member twitched.
You would be lying if you said you, too, were not intrigued. The mechanics were well-known, understood. But the sensations that arose in his presence, at his touch, were unconventional and akin to nothing describable except a grounding bliss. To experience what laid beyond that, to reclaim it, sang like a siren’s song.
Lips captured yours again, the kiss full of fervor, before they traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck. You gasped and bucked as he found the sensitive spot beneath your ear and in the curve near your shoulder.
“But I am not so eager that I would overlook the notion that patience is well-rewarded. For both of us.”
You swallowed a moan and pushed it to the back of your throat as the hand on your waist ghosted over your stomach and the curve of your breast, stopping to trace a circle around your nipple. His hand hovered, cupping the soft flesh only once before continuing up to dip beneath the neckline of your sleepwear. Your skin tingled as Zandik grazed the other side of your neck and collarbone, the area sensitive, untouched by most. Instinctively, you arched your back as you rolled your hips against his thigh; you were rewarded with the beginnings of a familiar low heat curling, tightening, and a soft cry escaped your lips in recognition.
No, no, you couldn’t...not without…
Reaching between you, your hand searched and found his hardness, his pants tight. You angled your hand to touch him through the fabric, palm against his length, but your muscles twitched with hesitation. Zandik’s hand left your collarbone and covered yours as he guided your hand down his member and back up through his pants.
“I don’t want to...not if you don’t…” you gasped. “Not fair…”
“You and your sense of fairness, rooh 'albi,” Zandik teased. He smirked before he kissed you again. “Not everything is so direct. Try again. Consider this akin to sight-reading.”
You nodded and Zandik let go of your hand. Slowly your fingers danced along his waistband and traced the hard planes of his abdomen. Further up, his chest, just as solid. Neither were incredibly defined but instead were the kind of muscle that came from use, not vanity exercises. In the dreams, when either of you attempted this, you never truly touched one another; you were only left with the vague sensation of being touched, like an echo of a shout in a cavern.
The goal of sight-reading was to feel the notes, get a sense of the rhythm and how one movement flowed into the next. You tried to sense the slight muscle twitch when your touch delved too far to the side or the sharp intake of breath when you grazed Zandik’s tricep, tracing the lines of muscle and earning a soft groan. He fought back a shudder when you went lower, brushing what you could reach of his forearm.
He was quiet as you continued your exploration, save the occasional change in his breathing that told you to try to recreate both the sound and the sensation.
Your fingers found their way across the expanse of his shoulders and upper back, feather-light as they ran up the back of his neck and traced his hairline. He shifted, rolling his head slightly, almost like a cat. Curious, you ran your fingers through his hair and he inhaled stiffly before he gave a soft exhale through his nose, as if working to keep himself quiet. You tried again, fingers seeking and this time keeping a slightly firmer hold as you gently tugged.
Zandik’s lips parted in a breathy gasp as the hand on your back pressed you back against his thigh, your desirous ache returning full force. Your knee, the one tucked between his legs, was precariously pressed against his member, his hips rolling twice in search of friction.
The sun had long since slipped through the seam in the drapes in full-force, bathing the room in a muted sea of golden light. It was well past when either of you usually awoke. Your head snapped towards the bedroom rooms closing the space off from the rest of the suite. Just beyond, you could hear breakfast being arranged by the dedicated staff member who always brought the food straight from the kitchen.
“To be continued another time,” Zandik whispered against your lips.
You untangled yourselves slowly, against either of your wishes, the chill in the room doing nothing for your burning desire. As you attempted to smooth your hair and wrapped yourself in a dressing gown, you couldn’t help but wonder what might have occurred had your morning routine not continued on its usual schedule.
Would your mind have cooperated? Or would your body have reacted on instinct, vision glazing over as you recognized the ceiling, knew the number of tiny motifs carved into the plaster high above? Would you have struggled to breathe as you willed your mind to separate Zandik from Omega from…
Something warm touched you and you flinched, coming to your senses as you recognized Zandik, half-dressed in front of you. Amusement as your still-recovering form barely masked the concern creasing his brow.
“ ...are you truly that dazed, my dear?”
“What if we can never...?”
The words left your lips before you fully formed the thought, the fear gripping you as you gestured to your head. What if you could never give neither of you that experience, that closure, that bliss? If you took the false memories out of the equation, who was to say you would fare any differently?
You tried, once or twice, although never with fellow musicians; it was never successful, never satisfying. Never like the teasing licks of fire that you felt with Zandik.
He stepped closer and tilted his head. His hand fixed the strand of hair tickling your face before resting against your cheek. You hardly ever felt his touch without his gloves and this would be the last time, at least for today.
“Omega pursued what he wanted regardless of boundaries. I have my faults but even I’m not capable of such acts,” he said. “We don’t have to until you’re ready, if you ever are. There are plenty of alternatives and I am never without the means nor drive to find more.”
“Thank you,” you said , the words caught in your throat.
You closed your eyes as a beat passed. Zandik wavered for a moment and then leaned forward to press a parting kiss to your forehead.
“As I said before, patience is something I have in abundance. It is never conducive to be fatalistic.”
Warmth blossomed between the syllables and sat in your chest to replace his lingering touch before the morning chill could snatch it away again.
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ilylovelyz · 1 year ago
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sunday morning
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pair : levi x fem!reader
warning(s): major aot spoliers, pregnancy, children, timeskip!levi, just lots of love, reader is insecure abt her postpartum body, a little suggestive, mentions of church, reader and levi have a bit of an age gap (just like 3/4 years), reader is taller than levi by like 4/5 inches
note : i am just having baby fever T.T
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the breeze feels good today.
it's a bright sunday morning. he never really liked sunday. he never understood the meaning of a "sunday morning." y'know, the ones where you go to church, go out to breakfast with your family, or just simply relax and sleep into the afternoon.
no, he never got that. instead, he had his sumday full of paperwork, training, or heavy cleaning. it's not like it was unexpected. he was a high-ranked soldier in the survey corps. he didn't expect anything from an already high-risk, practically 24/7 job.
so now, he feels... off. theres no paperwork to fill out. no training he needs to do. he can clean, but theres not much to clean anymore.
you could say he feels relieved. the titans are gone. everyone could finally relax without having the fear of their walls being blasted through. even better, he can relax with his wife, y/n.
he's still new to his "lifestyle." he's not used to this thing "relaxation." the windows are open, linen curtains flowing with the soft breeze. it's a good june day, neither too hot nor cold.
he's sweeping the already clean floors, wondering on what to do for the next few hours. he desperately wants to "relax" but he just doesn't know how. he sighs in distress, wiping the back of his palm on his forehead.
like clockwork, he hears the cry of a baby. his baby. setting aside the broom to stand on the nearest wall, he walks towards the nursery, painted in soft colors. he stands in the doorway for a few seconds, soaking in the lovely sight in front of him.
the baby was already soothed by his wife, who was already coddling and cooing at it with such love and adoration. "my, you have such cute fingers~" you whisper, fondling the baby's plushie fingers with your own.
"it's so bright," he thinks. today just seems so... perfect. he is still expecting something to terribly go wrong, somehow, someday. he inhales the scene in front of him, trying to burn the image into his memory forever.
you two have been together for many years, dating back to around the time when eren had finally sealed the holes in the walls. you and levi had been through a lot, and you've both seen a lot together. that in turn only made the bond between the two of you stronger and closer.
you remember the day he promised to marry you - when he was almost fatally wounded by the beast titan and had a moment of clarity did he decide that he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. so, following the extermination of the titans, the two of you happily married.
it's astonishing how much time has passed since then, even though it's barely been a year. in that year, even despite your age (mid 30s), you fell pregnant following a few months of the wedding. you were absolutely joyful at the news. levi was too. although he didn't immediately lift you into his arms like every other "normal" guy would, his mind was racing a million thoughts per second.
on the outside, they were all sorta displeased at his lack of emotion. on the inside however, he thought his heart was going to explode due to how it felt so heavy with love, yearning, and relief. god, it was his dream to live a happy life, and now he finally has it (at the expense of his eye, fingers, and almost his entire ability to walk). he couldn't be any happier.
stepping out of his mind, he takes a few limpy steps towards you. you notice, turning around and giving him that loving smile of yours. "pretty day 'nnit?" you say. it wasn't much of a question. he replied with a soft hum, not taking his eyes off his firstborn, his son. it's crazy how much time has passed in a blink of an eye.
he remembers just as clear as day when you first told him you were carrying his child, and now his child is just a few measly weeks old. "lev, would you say he looks a lil' like you?" you tease. the baby was awake, little arms flailing and wiggling, reaching for nothing in particular.
he paid a little more attention to the baby. he was surprised at the sudden realization the resemblance the baby already has to him. black hair, little round blueish-gray eyes.. a stink face. "he's ugly like you." you tease. "how wonderful."
"yeah, luckily he'll grow up with great features." he resorts, a light smirk growing across his features. "if he grows up at all.." you giggle. he's a bit peeved that the baby looks like him, rather wishing he looked like his dashing mother instead. "i would rather he's like you though. i don't want him to be mistaken as a short asshole," he admits. "i mean, the brat isn't even half a year old and he already gives me looks."
you giggle at his comments. "i don't think he should be like me," you reply, getting up slowly and placing the now-sleepy baby into his bassinet. "i don't want him to look all nasty like me." you say, addressing your postpartum body.
even during your pregnancy, levi had noticed that you became obsessive with how your body had looked. he noticed the way you had negatively looked at yourself, and it just made him so angry at you. you looked absolutely lovely to him. "there's nothing wrong with your body, anyone who says so is an uneducated idiot with no common sense." he replied, bringing his hands to wrap around your waist.
"you're just saying that because you're biased." you sigh. "no, i'm saying that because it's true. i think you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen, and you still are," he whispers, placing a chaste kiss onto your cheek. why would it be fair to judge you based on appearance? you love him even though he's missing like 3 fingers, face and body scared up. hell, he can barely walk anymore.
his hands squeeze at the plush skin there teasingly, earning a surprised and flustered reply of dismay from you. you tried to break away from his grasp, only for him to wrap his arms around you even tighter. bringing one hand down to grab your ass, he attaches his lips to your neck. "i love you." he whispers.
you sigh in relief as a reply. you hope you didn't wake the baby when he unexpectedly hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you into the shared bedroom you have with him.
it is a good sunday.
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lullabyalikpoptarot · 2 months ago
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Ateez Career Energy (September)
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I will be looking into some insight to what is happening in their career at the moment, or for this month. Let's take a look.
Hongjoong (Queen of Cups)-Is he getting his advice from a caring woman? This could be a bit of his energy, maybe he is tapping into his sensitive nature to create something beautiful. He is kind of allowing his emotions to flow through him for his work. Allowing his emotions and creativity to consume him at the moment. I am just getting, tapping into his emotions to put into his work. Honestly that is interesting. There could be a female artist that is a muse for him, or just a woman he has dated that is, okay too many messages, hard to pinpoint with one card, so moving on.
Seonghwa (Judgment)-Does he feel some sort of judgment regarding his career? It seems he may want to appease someone, or he likes the appraisal of fans, and once again, I am pulled back to his personality reading of needed the attention or validation of others. I don't know that plays a big part in his career right now. He might also be very sensitive to criticism as well.
Yunho (10 of Wands)-Well, he is overwhelmed and bit overworked right now. It seems he may be doing a lot right now regarding his career. I am getting to carry the burden, not sure what he means by that. He may have a lot on his plate at the moment.
Yeosang (Ace of Cups)-There may be a new opportunity he feels emotional about right now. Something that might bring him joy. He may be feeling a bit emotional about things right now. I am kind of getting my cup overflowing, it is like he is overflowed with emotions, hmm okay. I don't think he is the emotional type, but ya'll fans may know him better.
San (The High Priestess)-He is doing some inner work, following his intuition, or he is being guided by his intuition regarding his career. I don't know, he doing some spiritual work too? Anyway, he is tapping into himself. He may be secretive or private, or to himself a lot right now. It is like, stepping away, back to myself, so that I can get back out there and work. It is like inner work is important to him for his career. It is like let me go within, so I can put myself out there. I don't know if I am explaining this right lol but whatever. Ya'll how I am loving this boy's energy lately. Also, is he not good at explaining things, because it was hard for me to try to explain how I felt with this, same though, it is like I vibe with his energy so much right now.
Mingi (Ace of Wands)-Why does this not surprise me lol He is feeling exuberant. Omg, that word came to me with excitement, I had to google what that definition was, because random words pop up while I channel, and it doesn't always make sense. It means being very excited with lots of energy. There is something he is very excited about regarding his career. Like a new exciting start. He got to be careful with this energy, because as excited one can be, with this energy, it can burn down really fast as well.
Wooyoung (9 of Swords)-Well, this doesn't surprise me either. Boy is in his head, worrying about things way too much. He seems to overanalyze and think about things way too much. I kind of get, he thinks about the things he's done, like going over it again and again, like he should have done this or that better. I am not sure, it is hard to think in this energy, lack of clarity on his part regarding his career. And here comes the headache again with him, sweetie please stop thinking too much. Lol easier said than done, I know.
Jungho (2 of Wands)-He could be collaborating with someone, learning from someone that will help him creativity wise. I am getting meeting of the minds, wanting to work with someone that can help him expand his career. I mean, is he plan on doing some solo work with someone? Not sure what this means. I am here for it if he does though.
I feel like I go through a ride reading for them, they are so fun, although some can be a bit difficult, nothing too heavy here, which I like. Fun, enjoyable bunch here. Wishing them the best in the career ventures this month.
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gregorovitch-adler · 1 year ago
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A date after the crisis has been averted, at least temporarily.
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You know you're down bad, completely fucked up in love when THAT is your reaction when your crush has (jokingly) called you a bastard. What's even the point, now? You're doomed!
So, I've finished watching Season 1 for the first time and here are my thoughts:
1.) I love the writing of this season overall. I haven't read the book, so can't make a comparison, but Satire is one of my favourite genres, and I love it when things like Religion and Righteousness™ are questioned and satirised.
Also, I loved how witty some of the dialogues were. This one, for example:
"I don't see what's so wrong with them (Adam and Eve) knowing the difference between good and evil." (Crowley says).
"It must be, otherwise you wouldn't have done it!" (says Aziraphale).
It effectively calls out the lack of reasoning and blind faith in the real world.
I love how nuanced these two are. Crowley is a demon and pretends to be the Big Bad but time and again proves that he does care. Even when he doesn't want to.
As for Aziraphale, he's a good person overall but it's not like he always makes the right choice. He's fucked up too. And he has said hurtful things to Crowley. For eg. he didn't have to say, "We're not friends and you and I are on the opposite sides," to Crowley. I know he was trying to protect Adam Young at first, but still.
Aziraphale is quite stuck in his own prejudices. He wants to be with Crowley but still feels compelled to be loyal to his own side - even when the other angels have been nothing but arses to him the whole time.
Crowley is more open-minded in that sense. He's got greater vision and clarity about what he wants and the things that matter to him - he's been pretty much upfront about wanting to be with Aziraphale and ditch this nonsense about the good side and the bad.
I guess that was the whole point they were trying to make in this show.
2.) Aziraphale and Crowley are head over heels in love. I know, old news, but let me as a new fan just gush about it for a second.
Ever since they meet for the first time - when Adam and Eve are escorted to Earth - their chemistry is off the charts and it looks like they're perfect for each other.
Since Episode 2, it's clear that they have feelings for each other but they don't talk about it.
I love how even with his prejudices, Aziraphale is totally with Crowley when they want the Antichrist to be a completely normal child. Aziraphale wants the same things as Crowley but doesn't want to say it out loud.
The scenes where Aziraphale dresses up as a gardener and Crowley shows up as a nanny are hilarious. That too with the wrong child because of that mix-up eleven years ago!
This is my favourite scene:
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It's ... nothing needs to be said. He's practically glowing with his love for the Demon.
Their banter, and the way Crowley playfully teases him sometimes - it's absolutely perfect. I love them.
3.) Coming back to my point about the other angels, can I just say I hate Gabriel? Fuck that guy.
He's the most despicable character of this show. I don't know if he gets better or worse in the next season, but for now, fuck him.
I guess I hate anyone who bullies and is condescending to Aziraphale lol.
I hate him even more than Hastur. Hastur is at least supposed to be cruel because he's a proper demon. People like Gabriel - who're supposed to be good but are actually assholes - can fuck off.
4.) I don't know if I missed it when it was being explained, but why is Crowley stuck in traffic in E5?
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I know there's a huge demon prayer ring of fire set up by Adam Young but Crowley is a demon, and demons aren't bound by Physics, or so the God narrator told us. Couldn't he go to Tadfield any other way?
Also, why did Hastur burn to death in that episode? I thought the only thing that kills a demon is Holy Water.
Maybe I was being dumb when I watched the show lol. Would appreciate it if someone clarified this point for me in the notes.
5.) Whoever did the voice acting of God did a fantastic job. She had a lot of sarcasm in her voice at many points and I loved that.
Also, seeing Michael Mckean as Witchfinder was such a pleasant surprise! I'm a huge Better Call Saul fan.
6.) I loved the humour of this show. These two scenes were the funniest:
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7.) Crowley's walk was my absolute favourite thing:
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That's all for now. See you again once I'm done with Season 2.
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eclipsedpascal · 2 years ago
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Starlust | a series
Pairing | Din Djarin x Female reader
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The solace of sorgan was sought by many, but one krill farmer had always dreamed of venturing out from the desolate planet and into the stars. Her quaint village had been her only world, so when a Mandalorian and peculiar child present the unsung chance to traverse the galaxy alongside them, she knows she must do anything to take it.
Warnings | Use of blasters. (No use of Y/N, Follows canon closely, Slowburn, Eventual Smut)
Word count | 3.3k
Author's note | This is my first Pedro fic! Wowie. Hopefully, I can keep consistent and update this series regularly. I've also never written a series before? Or slow burn? so I pray this isn't garbage eek. *Not proof read*
˚ ✦ .⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺ ₊⋆ :・゚˚ 。・゚✧. ✦ ੈ✧̣̇ ˳·˖✶ ˚ . ★⋆ ✦ . ✧ .☽ ˚*✦
The ripples of hot water danced with a pearlescent sheen, reflecting the high sun as it clouded through the rising steam. The pond's surface only fluttered following your movements, its small body swaying with yours as you scanned the depths for Krill. Prancing upwards from the deep, the crustaceans' translucent blue bodies flailed daringly through the air before falling back to the water, leaving dimples and wavelets in their wake that lapped at the water-logged cloth of your hip. A moment of still allowed the water's tension to form, falling back to peace and concealing the teetering Krill within. You stood with heavy hands that held a wicker basket in their grips, edging for a moment of clarity in the foggy depths until you could drive them below. 
Breaking surface, the water sloshed when the shallow wicker dove into it, rising back quickly to display dozens of Krill jerking in every direction, suspended in the steamed air. Pouring your catch to the steepened bucket on the turf behind you, you noted its rim was now flush with blue bodies, some even piling higher than your head currently stood.
Trudging wet boots towards the village centre, you came across the rest of the day's harvest and added your own to the vast collection. It was nearing four weeks since the last Klatooinian attack, and the fruitful harvest before you sat there only because of the help from some peculiar guests still quartered in the barn.
A Mandalorian and an ex Shock-trooper, an unlikely pair, you had thought, but their refuge in the village had liberated your people from a previously ironclad grip of the local Klatooinians. Their tribe had rained terror on the village for years, growing fiercer with each hit and stealing more of the harvest each time they ventured through. The new visitors had taught you to fight, to fend for yourself against the raging attacks, and in doing so, saved you all.
A choir of giggles scampered by you, the children who voiced them near toppling you over as they brushed past, chasing and weaving through the houses and ponds. "Careful!" You smiled them off as they ran, hearing shouted apologies that waned towards their end with the distance already between you.
Among the children running amuck was an unusual boy. A green child with curled white hair spread thinly over wrinkled skin. He stood only a foot tall, his tiny body shrunken inside a beige robe that covered all but his head and three-fingered hands. He was inquisitive by nature, constantly scouring the ponds for Sorgan frogs with his gigantic brown eyes and listening for their hops with his overtly large ears.
He had arrived with the Mandalorian a few weeks before, and the children befriended the little alien immediately. Enamoured by his constant mischief and unnatural hunger, his quirks were like none their young minds had ever known.
But whether or not the beskar man had fathered the child or was merely harbouring him as cargo was unbeknownst to you. The child's lack of a name showed disinterest from his caretaker, and yet he was protective of the boy. Ridiculously so. He hardly let him out of sight, standing by the barn door as he played, back propped against its woven frame and presumably monitoring from behind the unmoving steel of his helmet.
That's where you found him now, standing in watch and holding passing conversation with Cara, your other guest. His stance seemed unfit for a man of his status, armour-clad and weapons-ready, he looked prepared for battle, yet his shoulders slumped, relaxing his weight onto the barn behind him. 
Gurgles and coos branched up from your feet, bringing your attention to the green child below whose hands were outstretched and grabbing towards you. His nails clawed at the dampness of your trouser leg, grip clamping down before you lifted him to settle on the ledge of your hip. "How's my favourite whomp rat?" You proposed your question with what had become a regular nickname for the little scoundrel, and he mouthed a gasping smile when you moved your free hand to tickle his tummy.
Bubbling as he squirmed in your grip, his movements slowed with a yawn, the stretch of his mouth contrasting his tired eyes when they squeezed shut in his exhaustion. Burrowing his head towards your shoulder, the boy had decided to nap in the comfort of your arms rather than return a few extra feet to his doting Mandalorian.
Chuffing at his closeness, you strolled towards the barn with the resting babe clung to your side. "Mando?" catching his attention, his helmet turned to you, lowering slightly as he assessed the tired-out buddle in your arms. 
"Chasing stray Krill must have tuckered him out. Poor guy couldn't even make it back to bed." You chuckled your words, doing your best to converse with the Mandalorian, but you wouldn't pretend it was easy. You found yourself constantly nervous to approach him. His many plates of armour and plethora of weapons certainly didn't paint him as the most inviting to casual conversation. 
"Come're, Kid" He took the child from your arms and cradled him to his chest, beskar helmet peering down and gloved fingers moving to adjust the child's robe to lay over him more comfortably.
The inability to read his features or figure out his modulated tone often left you wondering if the Mandalorian was truly made of flesh or just a freakishly convincing protocol droid. But when you saw the man's affection for the child, you couldn't help but feel you were witness to the naked emotion that strong armour fought so tirelessly to hide. 
You didn't want to slight him. You admired the Mandalorian more than anyone you were yet to meet. To be a benevolent warrior was one thing, but to uphold the strictest creed in the known galaxy with such willingness was devotion you had not seen before. It couldn't help but intimidate you at times.
Cara stood from her seat, discarding her empty Spotchka cup on a nearby table and patting the Mandalorian's right pauldron. Leaning into her grip, she gazed over his shoulder at the creature snoozing in his arms. "It's gonna break his little heart." her hand slipped down the steel, pushing off him as she departed the barn porch.
This puzzled you, eyebrows creasing and lips parting to speak but unsure what to ask. The mandalorian took notice of this and gruffed a sigh through his modulator. He repositioned his stance, his posture correcting itself from its previously relaxed state and muscles tensing to stand taller. 
"Can I have a word?" His sudden solemnity surprised you. You had never surpassed small talk with him before.
"Of course." You didn't protest; there was no need. You were curious to see what the man of steel could be so keen to share.
He entered the barn, placing the child in his crib and allowing him to continue his premature nap. Your damp footing followed only to the uncurtained doorway, stopping to watch the soft action and sleepy babe with adoring eyes from a distance. The barn had been lived in by the trio of outsiders for over a month now, yet the only remnants of their beings were a few ruffled blankets amid hay-bestrewn floorboards and an amban sniper rifle propped precariously against some storage boxes. You had always longed to know what vast treasures could be found off-planet, but it appeared these particular travellers had yet to bring any aside from weapons. You supposed vagabonds like themselves didn't have room for a whole lot of stuff, never mind the galaxy's luxuries.
Coming back around to you, the Mandalorian motioned you to walk with him. And you did. 
The pair of you walked past the seeded ponds, the muddied and soaked turf between them squelching under your feet as you made your way to the skirts of the tree line. It was spring, and the grass was flush with yellow and blue flora. Innumerable blossomed buds peeked through the grass, waiting until you were within reach before their petals folded themselves shut and waiting again until you were again at a safe enough distance to open themselves without danger.
"It's very.. nice here." The Mandalorian halted his movements, turning to face you with hesitant words. They sounded... nervous, you thought.
"I'm glad you think so." You responded with a gentle smile, the sun behind him reflecting off his mirrored helmet and causing you to squint your eyes slightly.
"I think it's clear he's... He's happy here. Safe here." He motioned his hand towards the barn, alluding to the boy soundly asleep inside, unaware of what his caretaker was currently suggesting.
"Yes, he is." You thought back on the countless occasions you had caught the child rummaging through the krill stocks or playing with the other children in the fields. "We all adore him. Both of you."
"I-" he seemed to trip over his words, clearing his throat before speaking again. "I don't belong here."
This wasn't the news you had hoped to hear. The village was eternally grateful to Mando and, in recent times, had grown fond of his forthright company. 
"You could." You took a pause, breathing in the sorgan air and turning to the townsfolk you knew as family and friends still farming their ponds. "You could lead a normal life here. You and the child" You looked back to Mando, his beskar still focused on you. 
"It's better this way. I don't belong here." He repeated his previous words. "Travelling with me. That's no life for a kid. I can't keep him safe." 
You knew he was right. From what you had heard, bounty hunting was a dangerous profession and demanding enough that duelling childcare as a single father alongside it would be too hazardous. Despite his sound reasoning, you couldn't help but fear how the poor child would cope without his company. Stars, he couldn't even let mando stroll through the forests without clinging desperately to his side the entire time. Cara was right. This would break his little heart.
And you would admit, the thought of the Mandalorian leaving cratered deep in your chest too. No more late nights gathered around the fire, listening as he weaved the children vague stories of adventures he'd been on; Blaster battles between the skyscrapers of Coruscant and Bounty hunts through the casinos of Cantonica. You dreamed of it every night you slept and brooded over it each morning you woke. It had been enough to re-spark a flame in your heart suffocated many years ago when you were only a girl. But the star lust you felt as a child paled in comparison to the depraved way you coveted each new morsel of information that sounded from that metal head of his.  
The universe stretched far and wide, yet you had seen none of it. At least with Mando, you had finally heard tales of the galaxy's wonders. Him returning to the stars meant losing that part of yourself all over again, and you weren't ready for that.
"What if-" You stopped your words too late, the beginning of a sentence you felt you had been edging your entire life towards tumbling out before you had decided if it should be said at all. "What if someone could care for him when you couldn't? A helping hand. That travelled with you, I mean. That way, he could stay with you on your ship." 
Silence. He uttered not a single word. Not a grunt or a sigh, not even his breath could be heard through the modulator. Was he considering your offer? Or was he stunned speechless, by the proposal of such a stupid idea? You instantly regretted your crass decision, regretted suggesting something so insane. You barely knew the man. Whilst you had deeply bonded with the child, you hadn't anything more than passing pleasantries with the cryptic Mandalorian. You had never seen his face, never known anything about him aside from the stories of savagery he called a job. You didn't even know his name.
After too long hearing only the birds and distant chatter of people still working nearby, your hot cheeks pushed your lips to a pout, preparing to apologise profusely for suggesting such an insane concept-
"I could use a crew member to help me with the little guy, and I can pay you handsomely." The blunt, baritone way he phrased his static words was nothing abnormal, but his blasé towards your idea without much further questioning was.
Your tongue had been caught before it could speak and was now frozen alongside everything else in your body, apart from your heart; It was racing faster than it ever had.
"Really? You would l-let me come?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. If you had thought him to be so agreeable, you would have floated the idea weeks ago.
"Yes." His reply was Casual. So matter-of-fact, as if his answer wasn't one you had been antagonising over for your entire life. Of course, he didn't know that, and you hoped to keep it that way. He didn't need to worry about how happy-go-lucky his new crew mate would be just to step foot inside a starship. It would only cause to be another distraction the Mandalorian didn't need.
"O-okay." You nodded, fiddling your fingers around each other in a myriad of patterns. "When would we leave?"
"Soon." The man shifted his weight from one leg to another, taking a brief glance around the town he would soon be bidding farewell. "In the next day or two."
"Right." The realisation of leaving the only home you had ever known began to knock your mind. You were born here, not far from where you stood now. You would be leaving your family, the friends you had once toddled alongside and every comfort you had ever known, all for the risk of travelling alongside a bounty hunter and never knowing when or if you would even return. 
"Are you sure you can handle that?" He said, presumably noticing the staggered expression painting your face.
The thought was enough to make your stomach form summersaults and your sanity plead mercy on the idea of leaving at all. But this was your only chance, and the knowledge of that alone was worth risking everything else to take it. "Yes. I can."
Your confession couldn't help but tug the crease lines of your lips, drawing them to a smile. It was finally your turn.
"We should-" The Mandalorian's words were struck short when the exploding sound of a blaster shot thundered across the village. Within a half-second, Mando had shunned you behind him, pointing his blaster accusing towards the treeline. 
"Go get the kids!" He bellowed, already sprinting towards the noise and encouraging you to do the opposite. 
You and a few others shepherd the children into the barn, reinforcing the curtained door with storage boxes that each held at least three times your weight. The green child had stirred awake from the commotion entering his bedroom. Inspecting him, you took him from the crib and hurridly concealed him against your chest. The children's shallow cries and whispers filled the vapid wicker room, and you did your best to shush them. Holding their trembling bodies in a close huddle, you awaited in perforated silence for further word you were safe.
After five agonising minutes, the storage boxes came crashing to the ground, falling from their positions to the wooden floor with a series of harsh thumps that had you clenching the muscles of your face in a cringe. It was the Mandalorian, his chest falling with a heavy sigh as he reassured the children and concerned residents they were safe. 
His helmet moved to you. Unsure if he was eyeing you or the small boy in your arms, you said nothing. His shoulders slumped forward, the chin of his helmet making contact with his chest plate before raising his T-shaped visor to you both again. 
"Change of plans." His voice scraped through the modulator.
Of course. He wasn't taking you anymore. Your dreams were about to rain down in front of you to be buried among the hay-covered ground and forgotten forever. Your tensed heart raised to the height of your chest, a sour sensation inching its way up from the base of your stomach to the depths of your throat as you anticipated his subsequent words.
"We're leaving today."
˚ ✦ .⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺ ₊⋆ :・゚˚ 。・゚✧. ✦ ੈ✧̣̇ ˳·˖✶ ˚ . ★⋆ ✦ . ✧ .☽ ˚*✦ 
The shot was Cara's. She had taken out a bounty hunter situated between the trees before he could fire the blaster he had aimed straight into the barn window. The guy had been tracking Mando and the kid since before they even arrived. Apparently, the entire guild was hunting the child. Though Mando wouldn't tell you why he was being stalked, he told you the child would never be safe from the bounty placed on him as long as he stayed stationary. Even sorgan wasn't safe. The option to leave the child and you behind was no longer viable, and your new job as his travelling nanny would be more dangerous than you had once believed.
Bidding goodbye to your home was the hardest thing you had ever done. Separated not only by time, but physical distance, every blade of grass, each droplet of water, and giggle ever shared would rest behind you now. 
Informing your loved ones you were leaving should have had you blubbering enough to fill buckets, but the night had fallen, and the thousands of celestial objects decorating your sky began peering through the trees and whispering to you. There was no need for tears. This was your purpose.
You packed your satchel with haste, avoiding keeping the Mandalorian waiting or annoying him before your journey together had even begun. You grabbed as much clothing as possible, the spread of equality between the shirts and pants was almost definitely wrong, but you didn't have time to care. Pocketing a spotchka heavy flask and a blanket you were sure the little one would nab as soon as he got the chance, you tied the satchel shut and made your way to the waiting haul cart.
The moonlight flickered silhouettes of leafy branches, swaying in the gusts of wind that whistled through the village. The ponds were still now, all earlier activity having ceased and the day having come to its close. Dusk had seeped over the quaint town; the only light source was lanterns hung over doors and one that sat haphazardly on the edge of the haul cart.
You threw the bag to the back of the trailer, getting ready to clamber on when the Mandalorian offered you his guiding grasp. Thanking him, you sat yourself down opposite him. Taking one last glance around as the Mandalorian himself has done earlier in the sunlight. Though, unlike the Mandalorian's casual pass, your eyes had borne the weight of each detail they crossed, growing heavier and heavier until tears formed in their blurred stead.
Wiping your misty eyes, you turned to the beskar man, who tipped his head in question. Are you sure about this? He asked.
Yes. You nodded back.
Smacking the side of the cart with his gloved hands, he signaled the droid to start driving. You waved to the villagers left in your wake, and the little monster beside you did too. 
The stars await.
˚ ✦ .⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺ ₊⋆ :・゚˚ 。・゚✧. ✦ ੈ✧̣̇ ˳·˖✶ ˚ . ★⋆ ✦ . ✧ .☽ ˚*✦
End note | Part two will hopefully be out in the next week or so,, thank you sm for reading !!❤︎
Tags | @celestialrequiem @rogerthat-steve | if you’d like to be tagged in the future, just let me know :)
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skull-fvcker · 1 year ago
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my heart, my heart wants to hold you
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❥ Leon Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Reader
A/N: posted this months ago on ao3 but finally worked up the courage to post it here—this was honestly just my exploration of his character since it's the first time I've written him. Hi
Summary: In which you, a friend of Leon's, track him down and try to put an end—quite badly—to his alcohol issues
warnings: 4340 words, implied alcoholism, unrequited love, general angst and swearing, awkward as hell, written with no Leon in mind so you can imagine whichever one you want, no use of y/n
PT 2
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The pub was warm, but not yet bustling. It lacked the social atmosphere in which it would once have. The only people that remained were that of single drunkards and sardonic businessmen who knew nothing more than to drown their sorrows in shitty whiskey as if that would numb the pain of their failing marriage. They knew it would not, yet the urge to drown overcame the rational thinking.
Leon thought that way, too. You knew he did. With every paid vacation that he had, he would escape to some undisclosed location and drown away his sorrows in expensive alcohol—his alcohol of choice is Jack Daniel's. God, it hurts that you know that—until he would lose all sense of clarity and become a babbling mess of a man. Lord knows he becomes even more of a sarcastic prick, those clever quips of his leaving no weight to them and making even less sense than they usually do. He doesn't necessarily become a separate person, but, an exaggerated version of himself. Truth be told, he made you feel like you should get into alcoholism. But you never told him that.
The warm air of the pub waved through your hair, the heavy scent of alcohol and overpriced cologne invading your sense of smell, making you nearly vomit as you stepped through the doorway. The men and women who lost their inhibitions and allowed themselves to verbalize their true beliefs, thoughts, and emotions were filled with each side of the pub, most of them likely accumulating on the second floor to avoid making eye contact with any poor soul that would dare to enter at this time of night. That person just had to be you, didn't it? Always chasing after the people you care for but never getting the reciprocation for your acts. Fate indeed was an unfair mistress.
Your eyes observed the pub with a heavy heart, the sorrow enveloping each and every individual weighing solemnly on your soul. Due to how late it was, you tossed away the idea that some of the people may be college students seeking to have fun. Still, your eyes anchored on a similar figure which sat at the bar, waving for the bartender to refill their drink. Leon... Of course, you recognise that choppy haircut from anywhere; even from the rear of his head. Speaking of which, his head was hanging low. From—what you guessed, anyhow—his overwhelmingly tricky career, no doubt.
Despite it all, you desired to know more about his employment, though he never would budge nor inform you any more than he deemed necessary. Some things are better left unsaid, you suppose.
Your feet moved on their own, heels dragging with each step that you brought. It was the apprehension, you assumed, that was making your hands so clammy and your ears burn up. You knew Leon so well, yet you didn't at the same time. You barely knew anything about his job. He was like an enigma to you. He knew everything about you, whereas you couldn't say the same about him. Did he have a favourite colour? Did he prefer his clothes to be folded a certain way? What about the way his bacon was cooked? Crispy, or chewy? You didn't know. You probably never would, either. Not with how secretive he was.
Leon had sat, drunk, melancholy, and desolate, handling the weight of the world pushing down on him. He seemed so lost, adrift in a sea of regrets, seeking solace in alcohol but finding none. His ashy hair covered his expression—that haircut, he never gets rid of it—with soft strands parting in many different directions. Sometimes it appeared more delicate than other days, and sometimes it seemed incredibly silky and soft.
"Leon," you abruptly spoke, striding next to Leon and sitting on the stool directly neighbouring to him. "How are you doing? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flicked to his shot glass, which was carried to his dry, cracked lips before you even finished your sentence. His cheeks were flushed slightly, and there was sweat collecting by his brows. His furrowed eyebrows pulled his taut skin near the bridge of his nose. Leon turned to face you, his expression softening, but only a short bit. He seemed a bit tipsy at best. "C'mon, you gotta come home already."
He hummed in response to your words, "I could say the same to you, y'know?" He took another gulp of his shot glass, pressing it down into the counter, his bottom lip suddenly moistened with alcohol. A piece of you wished that you could dab the burning whiskey from his skin. "You're not wrong, though." He says with a sigh, snatching the bottle of Jack Daniel's next to him—you can't believe you were right about that—and refilling his shot glass practically to the brim.
One glimpse at his face and you realised what was happening. His mind was clouded with regrets, haunting memories of the horrors he had witnessed in the past. The world's weight seemed to press down on his shoulders, and he found solace in drowning his sorrows in alcohol, hoping it would numb the ache in his heart. But it wouldn't. You know it wouldn't. He did, too. But he was too deep in his alcoholism to even think otherwise. Your eyes look down to your clammy hands, clasped together as if you were to pray.
"Yes," you breathed through your nose, eyes flicking back to glance at the man before you, "I know... I just haven't heard from you in a while, you know? I messaged you a couple of weeks ago, but you didn't respond. I was worried. What are you doing?"
"Classified information, you know that." He was quick to reply, bringing the shot glass back to his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his face pertaining to a certain perplexity that you didn't understand. "If I could, I'd tell you why I'm constantly on and off." he trails off a bit, shaking his head in defeat.
Despite yourself, you shakily reach out a hand and set it on Leon's, ignoring the twitch of his brow when you do so. "You're only human, Leon. Don't forget that."
His thoughts were a chaotic mess, filled with self-doubt and regrets. You never realised the regrets and self-doubt that plagued his psyche. You were never informed, and you never knew how much he wondered if he could have done things differently, saved more lives, or prevented that one catastrophe altogether. He reprimanded himself for not being able to protect those he overlooked and cared about, and for the mistakes he had made. And yet here you were, blissfully unaware and lending him a hand like he was the only friend that you've ever had. The emptiness inside him was palpable, and he yearned for the company of his friends who were now lost or separated from him.
Even him thinking about that when you were right there—was that not irony?
He missed the camaraderie, the laughter, and the sense of purpose they had once shared. But, now, despite all the people he surrounded himself with—you knew. You knew how many associates he had, he spoke of so many people whom of which you know not the name of, that you've lost track—he's drowning his sorrows in alcohol, trying to escape the pain that gnawed at him from within. You wondered, even for just a wee bit, if he felt isolated. Ostracized from the world itself, and that concerned you to your very essence as you showed him that bright, inexperienced smile that he used to have not so long ago.
Leon chuckled, if not for a moment, gently shaking your hand from his own, taking another drink with little to no regret. It was as if he wasn't even listening to you. It was as if you were just another pebble on the road to his alcoholism. He truly was a man that you knew you would never understand. The shot glass stayed on his lips for what seemed like forever, never leaving the pink tissue that never seemed to pull back for a smile. But, the moment didn't last forever. He soon slammed down the glass, startling you to the point of flinching, your breath hitching.
Leon stares you straight in the eyes, his calloused fingers gripping his shot glass so tightly that the tips of the digits begin to turn white.
"You know what's the worst thing about being a federal agent in this goddamn country? You're not allowed to have a bad day. Ever. You're supposed to be the tough guy, the one who can stomach everything and pull through because it's your job to handle it. I'm so tired of being caught in the middle of it. I just want to be left alone for once." He huffed, the furrow of his brow and the flare of his nostrils itching deep inside your brain.
Though you knew he worked with the government, you knew not of the specifics. You knew of Raccoon City, but not the rest. He was secretive, and you respected his privacy, discreetly hoping that he would trust you enough to brief you on the rest. That was wishful thinking, but hope wasn't too far gone. However, his words still shocked you, and you could only stay silent as his eyes gazed down at the empty glass in his fingers. His hands are so large, you loathed yourself to confess that. They were consistently warm and rough. Without much foresight, Leon reached for the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's, but you snatched it from his side over to yours before he could grasp it. He stared at the empty space where the bottle had been, his face swirling with a mix of emotions. He looked like he felt a pang of longing, a sense of loss, and a hint of anger all at once.
"Hey," he called out breathlessly, "that's mine. I need it." He reached over, only for you to glide it down the counter, your expression deadpan. Leon's face suddenly became astonished, his eyebrows raising as he blinks in disbelief. He had been savouring the rich, amber liquid, the warmth of the alcohol rushing through his veins, and now it was gone, snatched away without warning. Never in all the years that you've known Leon have you done something like this. And, deep down inside, you wished that you would have done it sooner.
You could tell that he felt a mix of frustration and confusion as if he had just lost a part of himself. The alcohol had been his comfort, his companion during the long nights when he sought solace in its familiar taste and burn, when he had no one else to turn to, not even you. And you had just snatched that away from him. You felt unfair—you did, but... it had to be done. "Leon, listen..."
He interrupted you, "You've got a lot of nerve to come in here and tell me how to live my life." He scoffed, leaning back in his stool. "Don't get me wrong. Love your company. You're a great friend," your name fell from his mouth like a curse, "but did you just come here to condemn my life choices? Is that it?"
"No, Leon, I just..." You sighed regretfully, your right arm gripping your left bicep tightly. "I was worried about you, that's all... And all of this alcohol? It can't be good for you." Your gaze does not meet his own, but you're sure that he's glaring at you. The daggers in his eyes pierce your flesh like teeth. Though he did not speak, you heard a scoff, followed by a grunt, while the words appeared to be caught in his throat.
Eventually, your eyes dart back at him, and those blue hues, his striking blue eyes—such an attractive colour, you think—stare back at you with a sense of normality and vacancy. Leon appears empty but shortly sighs and slumps his head low, bouncing it a tad before looking back at you, both relief and happiness crossing over his features. A stark contrast to the anger and disbelief he had just a moment ago. A part of you couldn't help but feel as if he was prepping you for something - but you didn't know what.
He smacks his lips, suddenly, "You're right," he seems to begrudgingly accept it, "hate to admit it, but, you are right. It's not healthy for me. You know," he paused, a breath hitching in his throat, his face lightening up, "I had been drinking all night before you came in. Thought I was going to stay here all night, honestly." His gruff voice fell to a whisper, harsh laughter wracking his chest as his head shook.
"That can't be healthy," you confessed. "Yeah, that's the point. It isn't," Leon stated matter-a-factly. It had been a long time since someone had shown him genuine care and concern. Leon took a deep breath and let out a sigh, finally feeling a glimmer of hope, though that was just how you saw the situation. It was wishful thinking, as he barely told you anything about his life. Apart from a few colleagues. "Listen, if it would make you feel any better, I can go home."
Your gaze sank to the floor, watching as the cracks in the marble begin to create vivid illustrations that gnawed on the back of your mind. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, and sighed, "Could I drive you home? It's the least I could do... I just want to be certain you get home safely since you've been drinking." You reached out a hand, setting it on Leon's shoulder. And for the first time, in a long while, you saw him genuinely smile. A grin of appreciation.
"I'd like that," your name fell from his lips a second time, though better akin to a prayer rather than a curse. It filled your heart to the brim with joy. It made you feel as if you were doing something right with your life. Especially with such a good friend as Leon.
"You gonna pay?" "It's on my tab." "That's..." "Don't worry about it."
Leon hopped off the stool with a chuckle and waited for you to do the same, which you did, though not as aggressively as he did. You walked him out of the pub, opening the door for him before he could do the same to you, to which he offered you a snarky 'thanks'. A diminutive part of you was concerned that he might make a critique of your automobile or its decorum, but you pushed those thoughts aside for more favourable ones. Leon has ridden in your car plenty of times before—you haven't ridden in his, though. Does he even have a car?—so you were sure he wouldn't say anything too mean. You could never be too sure, nonetheless. He was unpredictable, yet predictable in the worst fashion.
A tap on his shoulder got Leon's attention as soon as your car came into view, he giving a hum in acknowledgement. "You going to ride in the passenger seat like a big boy?" You joked dryly, walking over to the driver's side and unlocking the door. Leon stared at you in surprise for a moment but soon snickered.
"I don't know. You think I'm a big enough boy?" "The biggest boy, I'm sure." He laughed in response to that, a deep, robust laugh from his chest as he climbed into the passenger's side. Your car was relatively small, so the springs in the suspension system bounced slightly when he sat down. It made you wonder if the bedsprings in Leon's bed fell ill to the same fate. But those thoughts were driven away and you let out a loud sigh, pulling out your keys and puncturing them in the ignition. "Do you want to play any music?" Leon buckled up, clicking his tongue, "You think Three Days Grace is playing at this time?" "Probably not, no..." "Then no thanks." He looked outside the window in an almost dejected manner, which compelled you to laugh stiffly, if not shake your head in doubt. Leon really liked dad rock, and you'd never understand why. Maybe he was destined to be a father in another life? You never really asked him if he wanted to settle down. It wasn't your place to ask, either way. As you began to think, you couldn't help but steal glances at him from across the car. He was the epitome of everything that you knew every man wanted to be - enchanting, confident, and with a smile that could melt just about anyone's heart—did that include you, too, you wondered?—Your sentiments, purely platonic are what you told yourself, feelings for him were deep and genuine, though there was always that rat in the back of your head that told you that he would never see you as an equal.
You would always listen attentively to his performances, though he told you not much, laugh at his jokes, and be there for him whenever he needed someone to talk to. But did he feel the same way? You could only wonder if he genuinely wanted to be your friend. You gripped the steering wheel, suddenly recalling the small conversations you had with him about a certain someone. Ada Wong was her name — from the things you heard, she was absolutely gorgeous. Had a heart of steel, and a mouth of venom, but truly cared for Leon. She could've done more for Leon than you ever would have.
"Hey, we're friends, aren't we?" Your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, the lights on the dark streets at each corner blinding your otherwise perfectly fine vision. Ada understood Leon better than you ever would, and that was the unfortunate truth that you ought to face.
Leon side-eyes you, and you can tell by the slow turn of his eye. "Of course, we are. I consider us friends. Close enough to be friends, anyhow. Why?" His voice sounds fatigued.
A thankful sigh escapes you, in both relief and partial malevolence. How many times would you have to come to drag Leon out of random pubs before he actually drinks himself into a drunken stupor that he won't get out of, even with someone by his side to help him? If he didn't want to get better, then there would be nothing for you to do. You could push someone to do something for their health, but the longer it would go on, the more they would resent you because it's not what they honestly want. "Just wondering. We're here, by the way."
There was another hum of acknowledgement that came from Leon, and it made you wonder if it was all his vocal cords wanted him to say at this time. Drawing the key from your car and turning it off, you get out of the vehicle, both the passenger and driver's side doors closing at the same time. Guess Leon had the same idea as you. You watched as Leon strolled up the steps of his apartment, and, biting back your dread, you pursued behind him, locking the car—does Leon even know cars have automatic locks now? Of course, he does. What a stupid thought—behind you.
"Pardon the mess," Leon chides as you walk into what would have to be the cleanest apartment you've ever seen in your entire life. Not only was it clean, but it was absolutely empty. Save for a few knick-knacks and a sofa in the middle of the living area, adorned by a plain mat and a glass table that separated the sofa from a simple television mounted to the wall. A cosy little place; but you guess Leon wasn't the one for sentiments. Another thing you learned about him that he did not and most likely would not tell you.
You watched as he walked over to the sofa and seated himself down, spreading his legs out and groaning when he hit the soft cushions. "Hey, hey, if it's not too much, could you grab me a glass of water?" There was a juncture of stillness before he began to force himself up off the Davenport. "No, that's not fair for you. I'll fetch it myself."
"No, I'll get you a glass." You vocalised, holding your hand out as if that would preserve him from leaving. He let out a sigh but accepted your advances. You took off your shoes at the entrance—Leon didn't even take off those filthy boots of his—and made your way to the kitchen space. In jaw-dropping shock, it was equally as barren. "I have, uh... I have a question," you called out as you pulled a glass from the cabinet, turning on the cold water to the faucet as you did so.
"Shoot." "I probably shouldn't say this, but... It's been eating at me, you know?" You finished filling the glass and strolled back out to the living area. "What's with you and Ada? Ada Wong?" You observed as he gently took the glass from your hand, but sagged his head down low as if you had struck a sore spot. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have asked." "No, it's fine..." He hissed through clenched teeth, taking a sip of the cold water. "To be honest, I don't fully know myself. There's something inside of me that can't let her go no matter how hard I try, a part of me that will always be yearning for her, but... I don't know," Leon laments, taking another gulp from the glass, "If only things were different, you know? Maybe we would've made it work."
He rubs the bridge of his nose, seemingly about to pass out from fatigue, the eyebags that hung beneath his eyes make him seem at least 5 years older than he truly was. "I guess it wasn't made to be." He leans back on the sofa, a small crack of his lower spine unexpectedly catching your attention. The fat inside your cheek was caught between your teeth to prevent the pitiful whimpers that might escape. She really meant that much to him. Leon surely was a dedicated person, especially when it came to the people he cared about. That was something you were always sure of, right from the beginning.
"I think that her, uhm... the way of her living, makes her seem like she doesn't care about you. I think she cares about you more than she lets on. If the situations were different, I know that she would love to be your friend." You took notice of the yawn that escaped him after you voiced that, followed by a chuckle of disbelief. You didn't know how to comfort someone in this position.
You breathed heavily through your nostrils, "Or even something more, you know?" You crouch down near the end of the sofa, one of your hands setting itself on Leon's thigh, gripping it reassuringly. "Maybe in another life, you and Ada are together." You maintained a smile on your face, but it was beguiling. You would only hope that Leon would merely accept it as it is, and you believe that he did, given the rugged chuckle that jerked his body. "Maybe, in another life, you two are married. That's a funny thought, isn't it? Leon Kennedy, settling down. Little Leon and Ada's running around."
Leon pats your hand with his. His rough fingertips and the palms of his hands set your heart aflutter. "I would've loved that," He pauses for a moment, "I bet they would look just like me." You could see the fond expression on his face, his shoulders drooping as if he was reminiscing or recalling a tender, distant memory. One that didn't include you, apparently. Leon holds a peaceful expression on his face and closes his eyes, humming slightly to himself. He isn't quite asleep, but he seems droopy.
"I'll get you a blanket, Leon. You deserve some sleep." You pat his thigh a final time and stand up fully, staring at him for a moment before blinking and turning around, leaving him seating there as you leave. You would only hope that there was a spare blanket in the hall closet. Leon didn't seem to spend too much time in his apartment either way, so you were sure that there would be extra blankets lying around. Your hand opened the hall closet slowly, and of course, there was a thick, fluffy blanket just lying there, folded haphazardly as if someone was in a hurry. It would've been funny if it wasn't so depressing. Gently, you grasped it and started to shake said covering loosely as you sauntered over to Leon's leaning form. You allowed him to lie down on his flank, before covering him with the blanket.
"Thank you," you heard him mumble negligibly through the other dazed murmurs you couldn't quite understand as well as the rest. You would've been tired, too, after all that drinking. You gently gave him a pat on the head—despite its soft texture, his hair always appeared greasy—ruffling the short, straight locks of hair that adorned his head. You dared to never ask him the colour; the first time you did, he just plainly stated that it was blonde, despite what you thought at the time.
Leon slowly began to let out snores, to which you started frowning, dragging your hand away from his now-sleeping form. He was peaceful; he deserved it. He deserved a good night's rest. Without the sorrow and angst etched into his skin, Leon looked so at rest and like he had not a care in the world.
"Maybe, in another life, you could've been given the life you desired and deserved."
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