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Gushing about what I've learned on my deep dive on the Letter to the Romans to my brother as though it were fandom, and he's okay with it.
#I don't know if I'm pleased with myself or not - I set a goal to reread all the Pauline epistles this year and I was getting along fine but#then Romans came along and demanded I spend more time on it and I've chewed on it with commentaries and cross referencing and#prayer for months now and not moving on to the rest because I just want to keep understanding Romans better#(although it's got me reading lots of the literary and prophetic literature as well as the Pentateuch as references to them keep on arising#I highly doubt I will hit my original goal but hopefully this is good#less of a Goodreads challenge approach to it and more of letting it move in and live in my house for a good half year?#recovering reader#faith#sacred#coreander's old books
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the poly!marauders and lily x shy!reader!!!!! I genuinely cannot handle how much I love it omg🫠🫠 would u be willing to make it a series??
maybe remus being overprotective/possessive of her before the full moon and she’s just like ???? bc she doesn’t know about his furry problem🫣 but the rest of the group are just really casual about the way he’s acting like “oh yeah he does this sometimes, just ignore it” and r is just like 🤔?? bc he literally won’t let her go and wants her by his side and lap all day!!
aaaaaah my mind got carried away after reading ur amazing fic🩷🩷
so. stinkin. cute (thoughts and prayers for our shy!reader fr)
poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader close to Remus' time of the month
pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5
CW: love bite/hickies, man-handling Remus [ik, ik]
You had been…seeing the boys and Lily for long enough now to have noticed a few peculiarities.
Black envelopes with green wax melts on the front that were delivered to Sirius were always confiscated immediately by Lily. Following the envelope's arrival, the rest of the group tended to fawn over Sirius for the rest of the day.
James was incredibly bright as a student in all subjects except Ancient Runes; prior to any quizzes or assignments, the group would play a game of “question pong” which was a twist on the muggle game ‘beer pong’ where cups were lined up and James would aim a ping pong ball and have to answer a question that was placed inside the cup that he had scored in. This amount of effort wasn’t placed into any of the others’ studies.
And what was obviously something the boys were ultimately accustomed to doing for Lily now extended to you when you couldn’t help but notice that at least one of them always escorted you to any of your classes in the dungeons.
Another peculiarity, however, seemed to centre around Remus.
Once a month, the group got a bit…sketchy before the three boys would disappear for about a day and then return basically back to normal.
Lily seemed to be accepting of these occurrences, so you opted not to concern yourself with it either; if it was something you needed to know, they’d tell you.
Right?
Because, you see, the sketchiness wasn’t just limited to their comings and goings; but rather Remus himself.
He was a tactile person, that much you knew to be true. He almost always had a hand on one of his partners, a boyfriend or a girlfriend in his lap, or an arm around someone’s shoulders.
And yes, you’d been growing increasingly accustomed to the affection.
But it seemed to you that around these bouts of…sketchiness, the affection seemed to grow into something rather possessive.
For example; it became clear to you that out of the three boys, James and Sirius were the ones who had a particular problem with Severus Snape, but during said period of said sketchiness, Remus nearly growled when he saw Lily and Snape discussing the upcoming Potions exam before he latched himself onto Lily’s side until Severus finally left.
And then at the quidditch game against Ravenclaw, a group of girls behind you, Lily, and Remus were giggling over how ‘fit the Gryffindor captain was’ which led to Remus standing abruptly, moving to lean against the railing of the Gryffindor stands to wave James over before he pressed a searing kiss to the chasers lips leaving them both rather breathless.
And then there was the party in the Ravenclaw common room for Benjy Fenwicks birthday where you, Lily, and Remus had been sitting watching James and Sirius dance with Marlene and Mary before Gilderoy Lockhart slid up behind Sirius in an attempt to dance with him. Sirius hardly had a chance to react before Remus was on the dancefloor and pulling his boyfriend into him, slotting their hips together and swaying sinfully to the beat all while maintaining eye contact with Gilderoy.
It seems important to note that Remus doesn’t dance.
All this to say, Remus got…sketchy.
But all of this had nothing on how he seemed to become around you.
You weren’t sure what caused the difference; perhaps it was because you were new to the group, perhaps it was because you were shy, or perhaps it was because he was more confident in his and the others’ roles within the dynamic. Either way, you were certain you were simply going to combust from the sheer amount of attention being devoted to you by your quietest boy.
You could hardly breathe or blink without him noticing, it seemed. And if you were within his vicinity, you were in his arms or on his lap.
Like right now…
You’d no sooner entered the Great Hall when you spotted Lily’s fiery red hair and made for the group before you were being man-handled to sit on the bench between his thighs.
“You almost missed breakfast, dove.” He offered quietly as he started preparing a plate for you right in front of your eyes.
“Jeez Moony, whatever happened to good morning.” Sirius teased as he shot you a wink.
“Morning angel.” James offered quickly as Lily smiled softly at you.
“Oh, hi! I..uhm, I’m not that hungry, Rem.” You tried, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say.
Remus’ movements hardly faltered as he continued buttering an english muffin for you, but everyone else seemed to freeze in their movements as they watched the two of you with bated breaths.
“Breakfast is important.” He said simply.
And believing he was quite close to actually hand feeding you the english muffin, you simply took it from his hands and shrunk into his chest at the attention.
You felt your heart leap both in affection and embarrassment as you felt him press his lips to your neck as you ate, looking to the other three in hopes of help or explanation, of which you received neither.
“I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover with me tonight?” Lily asked you as she sipped from her tea.
“Oh, I uhm…sure, that’d be nice. Is everyone going to be there?”
Remus kept his face pressed to your neck but the others shared a glance.
“No, we have a Marauders thing to attend to tonight, sweetness. Can we call dibs for the weekend?” Sirius offered, but his attempt was quickly shot down by Remus.
“Tomorrow.” He muttered from your neck as you fought the urge to shiver at the tickle of his breath.
“What about the night after that?” Lily tried again.
You let out a surprised (and perhaps nervous) squeak when Remus’ embrace tightened around your middle.
“Tomorrow.”
“Moons…” James tried, which finally got Remus’ face out from your neck in order to glare at his boyfriend.
“Tomorrow will be fine.” He proclaimed with an air of finality before he shoved his face unceremoniously back into your neck and latched his mouth to your jugular, eliciting another surprised yelp from your lips.
“How’s that for a good morning, Y/N?” Sirius asked with a wink.
You spent the rest of your breakfast wondering if this was your own personal heaven or your own personal hell.
Jury was still out by the time you left the Great Hall with a love bite displayed above the collar of your uniform.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#lily evans#poly!marauders#poly!marauders + lily#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders + lily x reader#poly!marauders + lily x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#lily evans x you#lily evans x reader#lily evans x fem!reader#ellecdc fics
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It's About The Chase
Halsin x Fem!Reader
A/N: FINALLY finished this halsin pic I've been working on for the past like month lmao. a huge shout out to @princessbatears @hdlynnslibraryand @maybegefor being the pushes I needed to finish it! I hope you all enjoy! <3
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT! Hunter/Prey Kink, halsin is chasing reader through the forest lol, P in V sex, cream pie, cock warming, marking, biting, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, slight aftercare, cuddling.
Summary: You and Halsin have been together for sometime now, so when Halsin approaches you and asks you to partake in a Ritual custom of his people to further your relationship...who are you to deny him?
Orange embers add to the number of stars in the night sky before flickering out of existence against the blanket of night.
The fire roars fierce before you; orange, yellow, and red tangling together in a dangerous dance to the euphony of songs around you. Your heart races, blood thrumming through your veins like a raging river. The heat from the flames only adds to the heat bubbling beneath your skin, making the fingers dragging across its surface seem startlingly cool in contrast.
You look down at your friend, Avella, as she drags her fingers down the length of your arm in mesmerizing patterns, leaving a shimmering trail of golden paint in their wake. You watch in fascination as the liquid coats her finger tips, dripping in a glimmering trail down the back of her hand before she moves to retrieve more from the bowl at her feet.
You’ve only ever bared witness to this ritual once, Halsin wanting you to see it before committing to it with him, and while you remember it being just as intriguing, it feels…different, now.
Now that it’s happening to you.
Avella, one of your closest friends, had helped you prepare for the ritual just earlier. The golden paths she is painting now, are a continuation of the ones that snake beneath the simple white dress adorning your body.
You look across from you to see Halsin garnering the same treatment, except the paint adorning his skin is a crimson red, appropriately matching the tattoos inked into him. The only thing that separates you from one another are the flames, making him flicker in and out of view as the fire laps at each new log added to it.
But even from this distance you can see the way he looks at you. See the way his eyes darken with hunger. The way his shoulders tense and his fists clench from where they rest at his sides.
He’s ready to pounce. A predator with his prey in sight but just out of reach.
At least for now.
You can feel your breathing speed up, becoming shallow, chest rising and falling quicker as Avella finishes her artwork and the harmony of songs and drums alike come to a complete stop around you.
One of the elders, a druid you’ve only met on occasion, comes to stand in front of the fire, between you and Halsin. He speaks in an old language, one you don’t understand before slipping back into common. Yet, even then, the words do not reach you.
The elder speaks eloquently about tonight's ritual, describing everything Halsin had already prepared you for.
This ritual is a sacred one, that you know. Halsin, like many druids, believed that life, like nature, is a fluid thing. Not to be bound to one person or place or thing in one's life. Yet, this very practice seemed to contradict that very principle. You still had lingering questions, one that Halsin promised would be answered come the end of tonight.
Because, by the end of the night you would be Halsin’s, and he would be yours. Completely and wholly, under the watchful eye of Silvanus himself, you and Halsin would become one with the natural world he holds so dear, cementing one another as an inseparable part of each other's existence.
You only realize the elder had ended his prayers by the low blow of a horn, and the steady reverberation of the drums picking up once more. Your eyes dart from where you had been staring off, to your partner across the fire, his brows drawn in slight concern at your hesitance.
That’s right…you must run.
And so you do.
Turning on your heel, you take off into the forest behind you, the moss and fallen leaves surprisingly springy beneath your bare feet as you dash deeper into the trees embrace.
The singing grows louder behind you at the start of your retreat, but as you put distance between yourself and the others, the sounds grow softer, quieter – muffled by nature until the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, the blood rushing in your ears, and the rustle of foliage beneath your feet.
Only then do you pause, not knowing how far you’ve gone or where you’re even going. It’s then that Halsin’s words echo in your mind, your eyes slipping close as you try to reign in in your excitement, your panic.
“You mustn’t let your mind get the better of you. It will be dark, unfamiliar, but you know where to go. Find the tree.”
You wring your hands together nervously, worry evident in your features. “What if I can’t find it? What if – what if I fail?”
Halsin smiles softly, reaching out to take your hands in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
“You will not fail. Even if you cannot find the tree…the oak father will guide you.”
With a deep breath, you open your eyes once more, taking in your surroundings as quickly, but as efficiently as possible. Halsin was right, this place is utterly unfamiliar to you. A forest he’s lived in for most of his life, yet you have never truly seen before. Yet another advantage in his favor.
Another breath.
He believes in you, he trusts you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, with one last steadying breath you turn slowly in place – listening, looking, feeling…until you see it.
It would have been almost impossible to see just moments ago, dark clouds shrouding the moon’s light. But just as you turn, there is a break in the sky, the celestial light making the silvery underbellies of oak leaves that sprout from branches that tower above the rest, glint at you.
“The heart of the forest. That is your goal,” Halsin’s voice rings in your ears again.
You smile, heart leaping with triumph as you take off at a sprint once more, all while sending up a silent prayer to Silvanus for guiding your way.
– – – – – – – – – –
Despite seeming to know the way you need to go, you continuously doubt yourself. The forest all looks the same, the trees too similar, the sounds never changing, and it feels like you’ve not made any progress towards the heart of the forest.
The branches whip past you, brushing against your face and arms, surely leaving behind evidence of their assault, but you couldn’t care less. Despite the rush of anxiety and primal flight coursing through you, there’s also...a thrill. A thrill like you’ve never felt before. A thrill that makes you giddy as you continue your race. And it only seems to intensify as you hear the distance sounds of a pursuer in the distance.
The chase has begun.
Without thought, you move faster. Feet digging into the earth beneath you, arms pumping faster, breathing harder. You will succeed. You will not fail. Not tonight.
And once again, as if the Oak Father himself heard your earlier prayers, the forest around you changes for what feels like the first time. Endless trees give way to a small clearing; an iridescent, bubbling stream running through it, separating you from more forest on the other side.
You come to a pause at the stream's edge, mind racing with what to do. But each second matters. Each breath matters.
One.
Your mind races with information that Halsin has told you about his hunts.
Two.
A branch cracks in the distance as your eyes scan the water.
Three.
Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step into the stream, the water splashing around your ankles.
Four.
Tracks…you have to leave tracks.
Five.
The mud squishes between your toes as you emerge on the other side of the river. One step, another, and another -
Six.
You hear footsteps now, clear as day as the massive bulk of your partner crashes through the woods.
Seven.
Quickly, you dart back into the stream, rushing in the opposite direction of the heart of the forest before moving to crouch behind a large boulder in the water, your dress tugging at you with the movement of the current.
Eight.
This breath you don’t release, as Halsin burst from the tree line, pausing at the edge of the stream just as you had.
You watch silently, blood rushing in your ears as you peer around the edge of your hiding place. Halsin is breathing just as hard as you were, and even from here you can see the sheen of sweat adoring his skin, the moonlight reflecting off him. His eyes scan the water before they pause. Quickly, he makes his way through the water, kneeling on the other side where you exited the water. He follows them with his gaze carefully until they disappear back into the water in the opposite direction. From this distance, you can’t be sure, but you think you catch him smiling.
“Using the water to hide your tracks…” his voice is almost lost to the bubbling stream, but you manage to hear him. “Clever, girl.”
His words send a pang of arousal through you, and you have to cling to the boulder to fight the urge to reveal yourself, but you manage. You stay in place and watch as Halsin stands to his full height once more and takes off jogging upstream, until he’s out of sight within the trees.
You wait a few moments longer, and then just a moment more before leaving your hiding place and darting out of the water and back into the forest’s sanctuary. You see the towering top of the sacred tree, closer now than you ever hoped, and you know - you know, you’re going to make it.
And you do.
Somehow this last push to the end feels quicker than the rest. The forest doesn’t feel endless, time doesn’t feel like it’s dragging on. In fact, the closer you get, it feels as if a warmth flows through you, a calm you haven’t felt since the night started. And as if on cue, you burst from the trees once more into an awe-inspiring sanctuary.
You understand now, why this place is called the heart of the forest - a huge clearing cut naturally in the middle of this vast place. The air is cooler here, a light breeze rustling the fabric of your simple gown as you come to a stop at the edge of the trees, your breath coming in quick deep breaths as you are finally able to stop running. If just for a moment.
Your eyes trail over the space, catching instantly on the fireflies dancing through the air, blinking in and out of existence as they fly. With slow reverent steps, you make your way closer to your goal, standing tall and unmoving at the center of the clearing.
The Sacred Tree.
It stands silhouetted against the night sky, a looming presence that towers hundreds of feet above you, its base thick and imposing as roots sprawl out in a vast network from its center.
With as much care and reverence you are able, you pick your way over the roots, trying to memorize every detail of this magnificent place. After a moment you even notice another stream bubbling steadily into a small pool at the base of the tree, sparkling with moonlight and calling to you.
Soon, you kneel next to the pool, hands dipping into the water, dissipating your reflection on the surface. You lean down, bringing your cupped hands up to your lips as you take small sips. You nearly moan at the cool liquid cascading over your tongue, quenching the intense thirst you didn’t even know you had. It even tastes…sweet, like fresh honeysuckles in spring, or the faint sweetness of honeydew.
You stay at the edge of the pool for a long few moments, taking slow sips and deep breaths before finally standing back to your feet. As you do, your eyes trail over yourself, astonished to find that the paint adorning you has stayed intact, not even the dirt or branches rubbing it off.
Your dress is another matter however, the garment showing clear evidence of your traipse through the woods. Tugging at the hem of the piece of cloth, you send a small smile to the tree above you.
“I suppose it’s a reasonable sacrifice, a dress for…”
For what exactly?
While Halsin had told you the basics of the ritual, and the things that were to come, you can’t help but feel like you still don't understand the cultural importance of this sacred rite.
And you don’t have time to wonder, for just as you step closer to the tree, the world around you spins uncontrollably as familiar strong arms wrap around you and rough bark meets your back as you are pressed up against the imposing trunk.
You didn’t even hear him approach, his steps surprisingly silent for a man of his size. But he’s here now - he’s here and wasting no time as his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping you wherever he can. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he presses you further into the tree behind you, fisting the delicate white fabric of your dress in his need to get impossibly closer to you.
“Halsin-” his name leaves your lips in a gasp, barely able to pull away from him before he’s dominating you once more.
Your mind cannot even keep pace with what’s happening, Halsin’s presence cutting off any and all logical thought you may have. The only reprieve you get is when his lips leave your own only to leave a trail of messy kiss down your jaw and lower, one of his hands sliding up to cradle your jaw and expose the line of your neck to him as he continues to explore you.
Blunt teeth nip at the delicate skin of your neck and you can’t stop the whimper that slips past your lips, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders as he continues his assault. You’re so absorbed in him, in the way he presses against you and mouths at your skin that you don’t even notice his hands as they move to take hold of the gauzy neckline of your dress.
You’re only able to utter a gasp of his name as he tears the thin fabric clean down the center. The threads rip easily under his grip, snapping and popping until it hands In tatter remains on your shoulders. You’re barely able to take in another breath, before calloused palms cradle your cheeks, and for the first time since he’s found you are you able to truly see him.
The sight nearly takes you to your knees.
He towers over you, pupils blown wide with lust as he drinks you in. His shoulders heave with labored breaths, sweat damp skin glistening in the light of the moon. He looks like a god, cut and carved from stone before you.
Halsin has always been an attentive lover, and at times you would even describe him as tame. Always doting on you, putting your pleasure first and handling you with the delicacy of a newly blossoming rose petal.
Not now.
The man that stands before you, clutching you in his hands, fingers pressing into the base of your skull, is nothing more than the beast he always tries to contain. yet, even now you can sense a moment of hesitation in him, restraint. A moment you know won’t last - nor do you want it too.
“I’ve found you, my heart,” he says, voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest. “I’ve found you, and I intend to make you mine. Wholly and completely with no one but Silvanus as witness and I…I cannot promise gentleness. Not tonight.”
He didn’t ask, not out right - but you know he’s asking. As much as he wants this - wants you - you know he would back down if you so much as hesitated. He would take his hands from you and walk away and never hold any ill-intent towards you.
But you want this. You want this more than you ever could have imagined. Halsin unrestrained and untempered…
You want him to devour you.
You nod resolutely, hands sliding up his arms to rest upon his wrists.
“You’ve found me,” you tell him, voice but a whisper as you squeeze his wrists, inviting him imperceptibly closer. “So, claim your prize.”
The only response Halsin offers is a growl as he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours in a mess of teeth and tongue and you don’t dare refuse him when he pushes past the seam of your lips to explore you further.
Halsin makes quick work of the remnants of your dress, tugging the tattered fabric from your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Once free from it, you reach up and cling to his shoulders as he divests himself of his own clothing before his hands come to grip at your thighs lifting you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing.
From this position, you can feel the heat of him against your inner thigh, hard and just as eager as you are. A fact he is more than aware of as he brushes up against you, groaning into your mouth as he feels your wetness against him.
“I knew you would be ready for me,” Halsin says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves to press faint kisses to the skin there. “I could smell you even back at the stream.”
You pause at his words, surprise coloring your pleasure and Halsin laughs, breath warm against your sweat damp skin.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers, “I knew you were there. placing fake tracks, hiding…”
He presses you further back into the tree, the bark bringing a pleasant sting of pain to the pleasure building in your belly as he lines himself up.
“Why…” you trail off, words choked out into a whimper as he finally - finally - presses into you, inch by agonizing inch.
Halsin lets out sinful sounds of his own, grunts and sighs that make you quiver in his hold as he continues to fill you until his hips are flush against you own and you feel so full that you might burst.
“Because,” he breaths, nipping quickly at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, “It’s about the chase. The hunter and his prey-” he grinds his hips into you, eliciting a moan from you that would have made yo blush in any other circumstance. “It’s the catch that makes it worth it.”
Halsin emphasizes his words with one swift movement, pulling out of you before thrusting forward to the hilt once more, as stars burst behind your eyelids. No more words are said as he sets a devastating pace. Anything you do try to say slipping from your mind like warm honey as he drives into you.
With Halsin, there’s usually build up. He’s a man who loves to play with you, wring out your pleasure in the most torturously pleasurable way he knows how. Tonight, however, there is none of that. And you thank the gods above that you found the chase itself so exhilarating, because even with how ready you were, how eager you are for him - the size of him is bordering on overwhelming.
Yet you can’t find it in you to truly care.
All you can do is clutch helplessly at his shoulders and back, nails digging into taut skin as your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to pull him even deeper inside you.
It feels as if he just started touching you and you can already feel that familiar tug deep in your belly, arousal burning bright as he continues his furious pace. But you also notice a falter in his rhythm, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you assume his own end approaches.
“Halsin-” his name falls from your lips in a whimper, hands moving to tangle in his hair as he comes back up to claim your lips once more.
You expect him to acknowledge your silent plea or agree and tell you he’s close too, but you should know to not expect anything tonight. instead, your surroundings blur around you. Your back leaves the rough bark of the tree in a blink and soon, up becomes down and cool moss meets your knees as warm hands meet your back and before you can even take another breath Halsin has you on your hands and knees before him as he presses into you once more.
You can’t stop the cry that falls from your lips, this position letting Halsin even deeper into you, allowing him to touch places that make it feel like magma runs through your veins.
“Oh, gods…” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers dig helplessly into the soft ground beneath you.
“No,” Halsin growls, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as he moves to lean over you, surrounding you in him. “There are no gods here, not now.”
His words and the combination of his cock buried so deep inside you at this new angle catapults you over the edge. You come with a cry of Halsin’s name on your tongue.
Your lover helps you through your high, his thrusts growing more erratic until he too finishes with animalistic grunts as he spills himself inside of you.
You still struggle for air beneath him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm, that it takes you a moment too long to realize that warm hands are tugging at your hips. A small whine slips past your lips when Halsin pulls himself from you, and it’s then as he rolls you onto your back and leans down to capture your lips in a much more tender kiss than before, that you realize he’s still hard. His release doing nothing to satiate the need coursing through him.
“I love you, my heart,” Halsin says as he pulls away from you to nose at your temple. “You have given me a gift, this night - a gift I do not think I will ever have words enough to repay you.”
Then, for the first time tonight do you truly seem him. He’s pull away from you slightly, just enough so he is able to look upon your face, and you can seem him clearly. His eyes glisten with emotion, vulnerability and utter devotion swimming in pools of hazel. You take this instant to take your lover in, commit this reverent moment to memory as your eyes flit over his face and lower. From the scars cutting through his brow to his tousled hair. To the paint that adorns him - the paint that now lies muddled against his bronze skin, red mixing with your gold. A visual representation to anyone who sees that you two are bound to one another.
Your hands slide up his arms, fingers dancing across his shoulder before finally coming to cradle his face - your heart fluttering when he leans into your touch.
“Then show me,” you whisper, puling him into another searing kiss.
His lips are hot against your own, yet despite the sureness of his movements there’s just a hint of tenderness there. A familiar warmth that encompasses you as he touches you once more.
His hands are firm against your skin, squeezing and gripping and pulling you tighter to him, but gone is the pure urgency that was just moments ago. Halsin is all consuming - he always is - but now it’s as if he is taking up every part of your existence.
Solid arms wrap around you, holding you to him as he slots himself in the cradle of your hips. The familiar scent of him seems to envelop you whole as he presses himself further against you - sandalwood, sage and moist earth after a spring rain. He breaks away from your lips only to nose at your temple, and you take this moment to breath him in, your hands sliding up his back in an effort to pull him closer.
Halsin sighs against you, warm breath ghosting over your ear as he shifts his hips, pressing into you once more. He moves to kiss you once again as you take him, swallowing the moans that bubble from your chest until his hips meet yours.
He stops, then, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your own, as he allows you both pauses to bask in one another completely. You, for one, are grateful for the small reprieve, the moment becoming completely overwhelming in a new way.
You and Halsin have lain together more times than you’re able to count, each time never ceasing to take you to new heights, but this…this feels as if you’re seeing him for the first time - being with him for the first time.
He holds you to him in a reverence you never thought possible from a man, cradling you with a delicacy that makes your chest tight with emotion. He presses featherlight kisses to your brow and then your lips once more before he finally moves.
And it’s as if the heavens open up above you.
Ecstasy burns through your veins with each push and pull of his hips, as if you can feel every vein and ridge of him inside you. He sets a steady pace, but nothing like the hurried fucking he gave you earlier. No…this was slower, more measured, as if he never wants this night to end.
“I love you.”
The words are a mere whisper against your cheek as Halsin moves, his hips pressing deep into you forcing you into the soft moss beneath you as he tries to mold himself further into you.
“I love you, my heart,” he says again, voice strained. “I have never felt…” he trails off voice going soft before he picks up again. “I am bound to you, body and soul. And by the Oak Fathers grace I will never be parted from you. Not if…If you’ll have me.”
His words make your heart flutter, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn your head to look at him, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair once more.
“I would have no one else,” you tell him solemnly, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”
At your acceptance, your reciprocation of his vow, Halsin shudders in pleasure above you. With one arm still wrapped snugly around you, his other hand trails down, over your hip coming to rest at the back of your knee only to tug it quickly over his hip, changing the angle and allowing him to slide deeper inside you.
The cry that falls from your lips in nothing short of erotic, his name falling from your lips in a jumbled prayer as his pace speeds up, bring you both closer to the climax you feel burning in your belly.
Gone are the sounds of nature that greeted you when you first entered this sacred place. Now the only sounds that meet your ears are your lovers groans of pleasure in your ear and the blood raring in your veins. His skin slides against your own, damp with sweat and swirled in gold and red as the paint so delicately applied to you both now mixes together.
Halsin’s thrusts become erratic, and a wave of golden light washes over him as he ruts against you. He pulls your hips closer to him, and you wrap your legs around him obediently as the hand that was supporting you comes up to cup your jaw, titling your head up and away, presenting the delicate expanse of your throat to him.
You catch the familiar flash of druidic magic in his eyes through your lashes, and you know he’s fighting the beast, holding it back as he lowers his head down, lips brushing the underside of your jaw as he thrusts into you again, harsher this time.
“You are mine,” he growls, voice octaves lower than his usual deep timbre.
“Yours,” You relent, voice a whispered plea into the night air.
The only warning you receive is another harsh thrust of his hips, this one making him reach so deep inside of you that you see stars as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, breaking skin and sending you to another plane of euphoria you’ve never experienced before. Moans and cry of pleasure spill from your lips as you come, nearly sobbing as Halsin follows you over the precipice once again, pressing himself into you fully as he fills you.
With ears ringing and heart racing, you almost don’t hear the soft call of your name, Halsin’s lips placing delicate kisses to your cheeks and lips, drawing you closer to coherency as gently as he can.
He has not separated from you - the forest floor still at your back as he presses his weight comfortingly against your front, brushing errant strands of hair from your face.
“I love you,” you finally say, voice raw.
When you speak, Halsin lifts himself from you slightly, bringing one hadn’t up to stroke at your hair affectionately, eyes brimming with emotions you can’t yet place.
“And I you,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss.
After a few quiet moments, Halsin takes you into his arms once more and rolls so he is on his back with you resting against his chest, never separating himself from you in the process.
His heart beats strong beneath your ear, his chest rising and falling in long even breaths, and if it weren’t for his fingers tracing patterns up and down your spine, you’d think he’d fallen asleep.
Neither of you speak for a long while, using the silence to bask in one another’s presence, your mind still reeling from your experience. the silence is only broken when you hear the faint call of song birds and you see the barely there streaks of grey tinting the horizon beyond the trees.
You sit up turning your head and wincing at the tinge of pain that accompanies the movement. a hand comes up to touch the spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and your suddenly reminded of the mark Halsin left behind.
His hand comes up to cover your own, calloused fingertips tracing over the bite gently, and you look down to see concern tugging as his brow.
“I’m sorry, my heart, I lost myself-”
“Will it scar?” You cut him off, turning your hand to lace your fingers with his own.
Halsin pauses at your question, lips tugging downward. “I can make sure it will not-”
You shake your head, leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, pulling back to stare into familiar hazel eyes.
“Don’t.” you say. “Leave it. I…like the idea of it. But I…” you trail off, your courage waning.
Halsin’s other hand comes up to card through your hair, urging you to face him again.
“Speak freely here,” he encourages.
You nod, sliding one hand up to run your fingers over the spot on his neck that mirrors your own.
“I’d like you to bear a similar mark.”
Halsin smiles, pulling you down to him so your lips are a mere hairsbreadth away.
“You are mine just as much as I am yours, my heart.”
You smile.
You could get used to that.
#halsin x reader#halsin silverbough x reader#bg3 x reader#Halsin#bg3 halsin#bg3#baldurs gate 3#halsin silverbough
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⠀ ⠀ ── ᰥ ๋ 🚀 ̯࣪ ⭒ playing videogames together !
nct dream sfw headcanon. fluff, crack. so late for the hype only up had a couple of months ago but anywayyy. cleaning my drafts. mdni. library.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: only up — haechan.
jokes on you just for thinking you were going to remotely get near his pc, because this is a gameplay. he gets cocky pretty quick when he's playing. “don't worry, sweetheart. you get to play when i lose,” he'd say with an arrogant tone; he never loses. he also whines your name because you get in the way.
he'd probably brag about finishing the game in record time just to impress you.
he's a pain in the ass, honestly; his game nights sum up to him playing and you watching him play which you don't mind that much since you get to snuggle with him on his gaming chair. the truth is that he likes to annoy you, but he does it with love; after all, his computer is full of games he has downloaded just because he knows they are your favorites.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: bread and fred — mark.
“yo, i almost got it!” he'd take his head in his hands, sullen. “mark! oh, my god!” constant yelling at each other but on the inside you love each other. you think you're having a good time but the truth is mark's about to burst into flames; he's the worst gaming pal ever, but it's okay because you love him. “babe, c'mon, focus.” he gets so sulky sometimes.
a lot of nervous laughter when he messes up. would suggest playing spiderman because he's sure he'd be good in that one although there is some chance that he might be terrible at that too. pouts a lot and blames himself, causing you to stop the game and comfort him; just as he planned.
his exclamations would make the moment enjoyable and fun even if you have more defeats than victories.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: detroit become human — jisung.
so chill and cozy when playing games. jisung is so the opposite of haechan; video game afternoons with him are calm and peaceful. “you forgot a clue earlier, babe.” the best playmate in the world. mainly because he only wants to cuddle with his pretty girl, and since you're always moving around with episodes of hyperactivity, he found playing was the only way you'd stay still.
his hands innocently rubbing your tummy would make you lose your concentration. you won't be so happy with it, “ji, we're in a serious business right now, hello?” and it would end up with him nervously laughing on your neck “i swear i'm not doing it on purpose.” (he's in fact, doing it on purpose). actively participates in what is happening so he can be forgiven for being a puckish goofball.
he comments a lot during your gameplay and gives you advice on what to do when you need help.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: call of duty — chenle.
it's all laugh until it doesn't. i mean, take this seriously or receive a silent treatment. he's pretty chill until the team starts to lose, so you better man up. “no more funsies, bon bon,” he'd say before teaching you some 101, prayers for you to learn fast. this is a job, a lifestyle, like a life or death situation; he can't let ningning know she's better than you under any circumstances, he'll teach you to be a pro if that means rewarding you with kisses when you do well.
he's the scariest of all. full concentration. even the way he speaks becomes severe. if you happen to be nervous about disappointing him and he notices it, he'd pause the game to make sure you're okay, and probably joke about how bad you are at it.
“that's my girl!” kisses between victories “don't get used to it, tho” he doesn't want to spoil you. but... if it keeps you motivated, sure he will.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: ds games — jaemin.
more a watcher than a player. he likes to listen to you rant about a game you played when you were younger. it's so relaxing hearing your voice he falls asleep while you're talking. “oh, did i fall asleep? i was just resting my eyes.” “jae, you were snoring...” try to fix it with guilt tripping you because your voice's calm, yada, yada, “can you blame me, angel?” afternoons with him are peaceful, laying on his bed while you play cooking games and naming pokemons like they're your pets.
it becomes fun because he's very bad even at games that don't have difficulty levels. you're surprised at how bad he is, but you actually find it cute that he at least tries it for you.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: dayz — jeno.
he knows you're not good at it so he takes it pretty chill. the most understanding boyfriend, although it annoys you a little that he doesn't have competitiveness; he just wants to find a hobby that both of you like. friendly matches even when you guys lose on the battle royale cause you both suck. “gosh, not even two minutes in and we're out...” he teaches you how to play but it's only an excuse for you to sit on his lap while you're at it. he, in fact, chose it because he thought you would get scared of the zombies and would cuddle with him.
he's the one who suggests kisses between victories... and then suggests it every time you run into a zombie. he's the type to get obsessed with a game you recommend him so he can impress you when you play it together.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: mario party — renjun.
you're his known enemy. no friendly matches here, like for real. this is a win or a-win situation. the type who would do the silent treatment if you allowed yourself to lose to haechan. pushing the buttons furiously as if it actually did something, and putting all his energy into making body motions into the games as if it adds points if he's extra. “you're laughing?” “no, honey.” you are. he looks bite-sized and makes all this fuss.
you actually envy his passion. he's the best option when playing in pairs because he's the mastermind. making all the strategy moves. any ounce of shame when he takes your game controller and plays for you. it's not even funny anymore, but in renjun we trust.
#nct dream headcanons#nct dream fluff#nct dream soft hours#nct dream reaction#haechan scenarios#mark scenarios#renjun scenarios#park jisung scenarios#chenle scenarios#jeno scenarios#jaemin scenarios#nct dream fluff headcanons#♡dream
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Responding to “I’m late"
Characters: f reader (gn terms!) x Luffy, Sanji, Shanks, Law
Cw: some pretty major angsty emotions in this. Spoilers for Dressrosa in Law's and WCI in Sanji's. Period talk
Total word count: 1k
--
He walks into your alls room and finds you sitting on the bed. You’re staring at the calendar on the far wall, still as a statue.
“I’m late,” you whisper to him.
Luffy
“Late for what?” Luffy isn’t clueless, but vague statements like that go over his head.
“My period, Luffy!” Your head falls into your hands, but he’s still struggling to fully connect the dots.
He tilts his head at you. He can tell you’re in distress and that worries him. “Is that normal?”
“Obviously not,” you growl. “Or else I wouldn’t be telling you that I might be pregnant!”
His eyes widen at that statement, and finally he rushes over to where you’re sitting on the bed. He curses himself for being so oblivious.
“How late are you?” He asks. There’s a slight urgency in his voice, but he’s trying to keep the panic down.
“A week and a half!” At that response, Luffy realizes he knows nothing about these kinds of things. “Should we go talk to Chopper?” He offers. He hates being so clueless and he knows he’s not helping much.
The way you’re looking at him makes him think that was also the wrong response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m doing this all wrong.” He sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulder, leaning you in to him. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know!” You cried, and he rubs your arm soothingly.
“It’s okay,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We have time to figure it out. And we will.”
Sanji
He should be over the moon. He should be ecstatic. He should be absolutely thrilled. But all he feels is dread.
He tries to hide it. He really does. But you can see it. Because that’s the first emotion you felt too.
“Sanji?” You call, trying to snap him out of the daze he’s in. But he’s frozen, just like you were.
All he can think of is how his mutated genes are now forming a new human. What if it turns out like his brothers? What if it has 20 fingers and 20 toes? What if you get sick like his mother?
“Sanji?” You call again, and this time he snaps out of his spiraling.
“What do you want to do?” He asks, and you can hear his voice tremble. He pulls out a cigarette and snaps open his lighter. Smoking is always an easy sign that he’s stressed.
“I don’t know,” you admit. He nods, and comes to sit on the bed with you.
His eyes look to your stomach, still trying to process it all. “We should go talk to Chopper. He’ll tell us if it’s something we need to worry about not. Maybe it’s just a weird month for you.”
You nod, and he takes your hand and leads you to the infirmary. He has to know, he has to prepare for the possibility. He can’t help but say a silent prayer to the universe on your way there for some kind of miracle.
Shanks
“I know,” he sighs. “You know?” You stare at him, shocked.
“Of course I know! I know your schedule!” He smiles, and his arm reaches down to take your hand. He pulls you to your feet, and then holds you close to him.
You rest your head against his chest and take an unsteady breath. “How do you feel?” He asks.
“Scared,” you say, and you can feel tears prick at your eyes. He hums at your statement, and you to stand there for a moment in silence.
He starts swaying you back at forth, as if the two of you are dancing without music.
He pulls you back and spins you around, and you laugh at his moves. He smiles when he hears your melody of joy, and you can see him relax a little bit.
He pulls you back into him, still swaying. “We’ll be at a new island in two days. How about we go to a doctor there and see if we can get some answers. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”
You nod into his chest. You’re still terrified, but at least you have him by your side.
Law
He stands there, eyes moving between you and your stomach. “Late?” He questions. But he already knows.
You ask for Midol and a heating pad at the same time every month. He gives you back massages at the same time every month. But not this month.
You just nod, still staring at the calendar. He turns on his heels and runs out the door, leaving you alone.
He walks briskly through the hallways, trying to keep his nerves down. But his mind is racing. What if his child develops Amber Lead Disease? What if he passed it on to the baby somehow. It might be out of his system, but that doesn’t mean the lasting effects are gone from the disease.
He’s also scared for you. He knows how taxing pregnancy is, and being in a submarine isn’t something you should do if you were pregnant. The pressure of the sea floor, the dangers of being a pirate, there were so many risks that came with it all.
He grabs his sword and creates a room, and quickly shambles back to you. He finds you curled up in the bed crying, and realizes his mistake.
“Im sorry, y/n-ya,” he whispers, brushing your hair to the side. “I didn’t mean to leave you without saying anything.”
You dry your eyes and look up at him, still sniffling. “I’m scared, Law.”
“Let’s find out how scared we need to be, okay?” He guides your limbs to position you to lay flat on your back, and he holds the sword over you. “Scan.”
#one piece#one piece scenario#one piece imagine#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#monkey d luffy#luffy#luffy x y/n#luffy x reader#luffy x you#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x y/n#sanji x reader#sanji x you#red haired shanks#shanks#shanks x reader#shanks x y/n#shanks x you#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#law x y/n#cozage#✧˚ luffy✧˚#✧˚sanji✧˚
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The One That Got Away
pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader
summary: After she escapes Aemond Targaryen, back home to the modern world her family decides to throw her an eventful baby shower where she is constantly being reminded of the father of her unborn child.
warnings: mentions of dark! book Aemond, mentions of forced marriage, and future spoilers to my main story.
wc: 4,864
main story masterlist
my masterlist
notes: this was supposed to be a small drabble lol but I got carried away lol. btw maybe this can be read as a stand alone but I do suggest to read the first two parts. this is a spoiler drabble so read if you must or come back to it when the story is finished!
gif by @gameofthronesdaily
As of late, she had begun to feel strange.
It was not the same ill feeling she felt when she first found out that Aemond Targaryen had knocked her up. No, this was different. Odd.
The closest she could describe it was multiple sets of eyes watching her every single move. From crossing the street, to walking to the mercado and perhaps even sitting on the toilet as she peed.
It was an unsettling feeling that blossomed into slight paranoia. Alys was the first to have warned her about this after she escaped. Saying she too felt something lingering by days after she fled Aemond and settled into the modern world but it was gone once Alys met her.
However, that strange feeling was always creeping around, never disappearing. And even though Alys had promised that Aemond would never find her with the many spells and seals she encircled around to protect her, she still didn’t feel quite so easily convinced.
Late at night, she would pray for that strange yet uncomfortable feeling to be gone and to never come back. But most importantly she prayed to the Gods for the very memory of him to vanish completely from her mind.
The Gods, nevertheless, didn’t seem to want to grant her daily prayers as cruelly as they were.
She was near the third trimester in her pregnancy when her primas Gabriela and Mariana decided to throw her a baby shower. While she was in no social or partying mood, considering her six month belly weighed her down every time she walked, she reluctantly gave in to their pleadings. (female cousins)
Mostly because she desperately needed the distraction.
So she let both Gabriela and Mariana organize the shower. Her only request was to keep the party small, with only her, her abuela, them and the rest of her primas and tias. Seeing as her extended family that resided deeper inside the pueblo, did not know about her pregnancy. And she wanted to keep it that way. (aunts, town)
But did Gabriela and Mariana ever listen? No.
The pair had practically invited half the town over with people she had never met before. It came as a huge surprise after she got done from her shift at Doña Maribel’s shop, just how many people showed up.
The whole street was filled with baby blue, pink, and white balloons with a huge banner with her name on it. Her neighbors, mostly the women, approached her with congratulations and a small gift. She, of course, thanked them for their kindness.
Meanwhile her tios happened to be making carne asada in the middle of the street and placing bets on the gender of her baby. If she wasn’t so paranoid about Aemond searching for her, she too would’ve also joined in on their bets. (uncles, roasted meat or barbecue lol)
Her primas were the first to greet her while eagerly showing the decorations they had made, the party games they had planned, and the many gifts she had been gifted.
“We made these little pins for the gender of the baby, and all of us are wearing what we think the little frijolito is going to be. Now it’s your turn to pick!” Gabriela says holding two pins, each adorned with a baby bottle with either pink or blue. (little bean)
She looked at both very hesitantly, unable to just pick one. She had heard stories from multiple customers that came from the shop, how they just knew the gender of their baby by the feel of their bump or mood symptoms.
After weeks of trying to feel something or to establish some type of connection for it, she sadly could not get a good feel of what it was.
Though, the only thing that did matter was for the little frijolito to be happy and healthy. When reading Fire and Blood, she remembered reading how Rhaenyra Targaryen had birthed a daughter with dragon-like birth defects and a scaled tail.
She prayed that she wouldn’t hatch an actual dragon as well. Birth sounded painful and unpleasant enough as it was.
She pinned both decorative pins to her shirt earning several dissatisfied ‘aw’s’ from her surrounding family.
“I’m pretty sure it’ll be a boy,” Her abuela added in, sitting adjacent to her on the small couch. “I carried five boys and my belly was as low as yours. When I carried your mama, my belly was higher and rounder from the sides.”
Some of her tias nodded in agreement. But it was her tia abuela, Dora, who examined her from head to toe, doing what she did best; stirring the pot. “Yes and her belly is very big which means it’ll be a tall baby. Tell me, hija, is the father a tall man?” (great aunt, daughter)
The room went impossibly quiet so much that she could hear a hair pin drop. She saw her abuela shift uncomfortably against the couch as so did the rest of her tias and primas. Although she had not mentioned who or what exactly happened to her family, they all had an inclination of what stemmed between the father of her unborn child and her.
“Yes. Yes he is.” She answered with a fake smile.
Dora raised an eyebrow, more than intrigued to know more. “¿Cuánto mide?” (what’s his height?)
In the corner of her eye, she saw her abuela give her sister a harsh look, the same one she’d give her when she was little whenever she did something wrong.
“I don’t know his exact height, tia. I just know he is a lot taller than me.” She informed, trying not to let her voice waver at the small flashback she had of Aemond, standing in front of her where he’d forced her to marry him against a Weirwood tree at Harrenhal. It was the first time she really took in his massive height. And it was also the first time she felt truly smaller and inferior than him.
You’re safe. You escaped. He’s gone. He’ll never find us.
Dora did not let her sister’s harsh stare get to her, and instead fixated her eyes on the way she kept rubbing her heavy bump. “Will we ever get a chance to meet him?-”
“Hermana,” Her abuela warned with a stricter and more stern tone to her voice. (sister)
“Que? I just want to know more about the father so I can figure out if the clothes I bought would be a right fit or not.” Dora shrugs, feigning an innocent look on her face. Though, it was transparent enough to know she was lying. (what?)
Truth to be told, she never really quite liked her tia abuela. No one ever did. Not even her mama or abuela or quite shockingly her own daughter. Dora was known to be a pretentious chismosa, sticking her nose into other people’s business and going as far as to twist people’s words for the sole purpose of her own enjoyment. (gossiper)
Multiple times her family called Dora out for her bad mouthing. But the older woman stuck around like a moth to a flame, awaiting for new chisme to spread. (gossip)
“Well, if the clothes don��t fit we can always buy new ones. So stop being a metida, hermana.” She watched amazed as her tia abuela only huffed, crossing her arms on her chest and for once kept quiet for the remainder of the party. (someone who is other’s business)
To dissipate away the eminent tension, Mariana had brought out custom baby shower tablas of loteria she and Gabriela had ordered from Etsy. She laughed at the ‘La Botella’ being replaced with a biberón and ‘La Sirena’ being replaced with a pair of lactating breasts that tia Diana joked it’ll soon look like hers whenever she’d give birth. (cards of the game loteria. The bottle. Baby bottle. The siren)
As per usual, they played with money involved. She had won seven rounds out of ten against her family and earned around five hundred pesos until her tios decided to join in and tried to defeat her. Keyword, tried. But they never did and pinned four hundred more pesos to her dress. All five of her tios had playfully cursed her out as they kept drinking their Coronas.
“Alyssandra, bienvenida!” Her abuela welcomed a bashful looking Alys holding a gift. The green eyed woman wore an all black outfit, jeans that Alys had once confessed to her were her favorite stylish invention of the modern world (besides non toxic makeup). (welcome)
“I hope I’m not too late for the celebration,” Alys pointed out, taking a seat in front of her. “You kept my nieta safe those many months ago, you’re always welcomed here at any time, Alyssandra.” (granddaughter)
Safe.
She let out a humorous laugh. Safe was the opposite of what Alys had done to her. Kidnapped and held hostage was a better fit for words. She had been magically transported to a world she only knew existed in a book, and met one of her favorite book characters, Aemond Targaryen. A man who she thought to be a kindhearted friend by promising to return her back to her universe.
Instead Aemond Targaryen had betrayed her trust and loyalty by destroying what she needed to get back home. Thus forcing her to marry him. It was then when she realized who he truly was hidden behind empty promises; a man who was crazy and obsessed with her.
And everything had happened for a stupid sapphire that held a high sentimental value to Alys.
Alys narrowed her eyes from where she sat but suddenly softened when she saw the permanent bruises on her wrists where Aemond had tied her down for their intense wedding night.
Multiple times did Alys apologize for sending her to the arms of a delusional man. From what Alys remembered, Aemond didn’t go as far as bounding her whenever they slept together. Alys had let Aemond take his pleasure with a feign smile ultimately to play her game of survival.
She didn’t quite so easily forgive Alys and she doesn’t think she’d ever will.
“I still am sorry for what I did.” Alys’ voice softly wandered on her head.
“I know,” She replied back through her mind.
As the day turned into night, it was finally time to open gifts. However, not without having cake, her abuela brought out a delicious looking chocoflan. A cake she previously loved but thanks to Aemond, she no longer was fond of it.
Her abuela cut the biggest slide for her and the little frijolito and called out the rest of the family to come have a slice. In an instant the chocoflan was gone but her abuela secretly whispered to her that she had more in the fridge saved just only for her.
It took her over an hour to unwrap the stack of gifts she received and she was grateful for the many boxes of diapers as they would come utterly in handy. She’d been gifted a dark green crochet hat with matching mittens from her abuela, a pair of red mal de ojo bracelets for spiritual protection from tia Imelda, a mini thick cobija Mexicana from tio Eduardo, and several gender neutral clothes. (evil eye, mexican blanket)
It was Alys’ gift that made everyone’s head turn in confusion.
“They are scrolls. I found them as I was cleaning my bookshelf and I thought they might be useful to your babe,” Alys explained as she fully opened one of them, revealing hieroglyphics and scriptures in a language she didn’t understand.
“What’s… High Valyrian?” Mariana asked ever so curious, over her shoulder.
Alys interrupted her before she had a chance to speak. “It is a language originating from the land of Old Valyria.”
Her youngest prima Sofia’s eyes lit up in interest, “Oh cool! Is it like the Sith language from Star Wars?”
It was Alys’ turn to look at the young Star Wars fan in befuddlement. “What’s Star Wars?”
Sofia scoffed in shock and explained in full detail what the fictional universe that was Star Wars. Well at least she hoped it was fictional. At this point, if Luke Skywalker was real in another universe or in a galaxy far, far away she wouldn’t be astonished. Though, if the opportunity presented itself, she wouldn’t mind traveling to that world to meet Anakin Skywalker. If the real Anakin Skywalker looked anything like Hayden Christensen, within a heartbeat she’d run to Alys to do one of her spells.
“Who are the Targaryens?” Gabriela questioned reading one of the scrolls that had a list of Valyrian houses.
“Nobody.” She sharply replied, starting to feel somewhat vexed.
“They are the people who descended from Old Valyria and speak High Valyrian. They are the only ones who can read these scrolls-”
One flesh. One heart. One soul.
“Alys.”
“They sound magical,” Sofia replied, full of awestruck. Only if she knew that they were more than just that.
“Why did you say that these scrolls would be useful to the baby? Is the baby part Targaryen or something?” Mariana jokes, making her family more intrigued by the edge of their seats.
“Can’t have my seed go to waste, my love. You shall swell with my child soon enough. A perfect babe born from our love.”
Stop. No more. You are safe. He’ll never come. This is your baby more than it is his.
“You are mine. You’ll never leave me…”
“Hija?” She heard her abuela call out her name as she broke out in a run.
She wanted to get out, every second that she was there, being reminded of the man who impregnated her made her feel nauseous. Maybe it was because of the frijolito or just pure fear. She didn’t know, but either way it was a feeling she didn’t want to have.
She did not spare anyone a glance, not wishing for anyone to see the panic and wretchedness.
“I love you.”
In an instant, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find and emptied out her stomach until Aemond’s voice stopped circulating in her head.
“Are you okay?” A soft voice spoke behind her.
She turned around seeing a man around her age, tall with black hair and dark brown eyes. His hand extended a red solo cup that he softly murmured was water.
She nodded, easing the worry on his face. “Yea just a little sick is all.” The worrisome never faltered on his face, if anything he looked more concerned. “There’s some gelatina inside, I could grab you a plate? When my sisters were pregnant all they ate was gelatina to ease the nausea.” (gelatin aka jell-o)
“No it’s fine, I’ll-” He waved her off, sprinting inside before she could even finish. He brought a small plate of gelatina de limon to an empty table, motioning for her to sit. (lime flavored gelatin)
He watched intently as she took a few bites into the gelatina, humming when the color came back to her face. She sure did feel better, small little kicks to her belly confirmed that the frijolito felt the same.
“Better?” The dark haired man asked.
“Yes, thank you.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile.
“I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Armando,” He bashfully confessed with a tint of pink on his cheeks.
Of course she most definitely remembered him. The boy next door she had a huge crush on when she was little. Only that he was not so little now.
“I do remember you. It still feels like just yesterday when we were sitting here on these tables eating the paletas de hielo after school.” She smiled fondly at the memory. Unbeknownst to her Armando would use the money his parents would give him for school lunch, to buy their paletas de hielo just so he could spend more time with her. It was his favorite part of the day. (popsicles)
Armando laughed as he too looked back at the memory. “I would’ve come a lot sooner to catch up. But I had some business to do in Oaxaca and Merida. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me since it's been more than thirteen years but I needed to see you just once more before I left.”
A part of her felt touched that he had come all this way, and the drive she knew wasn’t easy. “I’m surprised you remembered me,” She quipped back.
“Who would ever forget you?”
It was her turn to bright pink. She couldn’t find any right words, but what could anyone say? Armando’s confession had been honest. Since she had left al otro lado, there hadn’t been a day where he wouldn’t stop thinking about her. (to the other side/ the states)
She decided to briefly change the subject instead. “I see that you didn’t change your mind about going to Oaxaca after all these years.” For as long as she could remember, Armando more than often would say that he wanted to live in Oaxaca, especially near the coast. What she also didn’t know was that it was her who he wanted to live there with.
“No I didn’t. I’m building a house there since my papa left me some terreno there after he passed away. You should come visit after it’s finished, soon.” Armando sincerely hoped she would. (land)
Aquí vas a terminar de enamorarte conmigo. He thought to himself. (here you are going to end up falling in love with me)
The idea of going to Oaxaca sounded not so bad. But traveling with a big and heavy belly sounded tiring and draining. Perhaps after she’d given birth when the baby was past its infancy.
“I leave in four days and I’d like to see you again. Or perhaps you wanna come with me?” The dark haired man asked, quirking a brow.
“So what do you think of Armando?” Her abuela slyly probed, after she’d just given her goodbye to Armando. She should have known her abuela would be closely watching their interaction. “He’s gotten taller,” She jokes with a playful look on her face. Her abuela rolled her eyes, “You know that’s not what I mean.”
She knows what she means but the talk of men was not something she wished to continue further. If she had met Armando first rather than Aemond, she definitely wouldn’t mind the conversation. But yet, Aemond had been thrown into her path unwelcomed.
“When you left for the states with your mama, Armando would ask everyday when you were coming back or any news of you. We thought he’d eventually get the hint that you were gone for good but that boy still asked about you. It wasn’t until your abuelo finally broke the news to him that he stopped coming here.”
She remembered that day when she left, her mama barely gave her time to say her goodbyes.
“He seems to be doing alright.” She pointed out, picking up dirty plates to place them inside the sink. “Oh, he’s doing better than alright. He got offered a position to work at a law firm in Oaxaca and his mama told me he’s also building a house over there. I heard it’s beautiful and spacious.” At the last sentence her abuela wiggles her brows, teasing.
She hummed in acknowledgement, knowing where the conversation was going towards. “Good for him.” Although Armando gave her a sense of kindness and genuinity, she was in no way ready to be involved with someone romantically. Aemond, too, seemed kind at first until he had betrayed her trust and went completely haywire and delusional. He had shown her a different side to him once she figured out their well thought out plan to transport her back home, was all a lie to get her to marry him and never leave.
Aemond and Alys both shattered that illusion of the fairytale love she wished to have.
What’s not to say Armando had an evil and dark side to him as well?
“El es un buen hombre con un muy buen corazón, tiene trabajo estable. Te lo digo para que lo pienses,” Her abuela advised, gently squeezing her forearm, “A house like the one he’s building, deserves a family to live in.” (he is a good man with a good heart, he has a stable job. I say this so you can think about it)
Her abuela’s eyes then trailed to her swollen pregnant belly. “One must make sacrifices that we don’t always want or agree with for our children.”
The party began to slowly falter close to ten, she never was one for sleeping early but after such a long day she and the frijolito needed much necessary beauty sleep.
Although her abuela said she’d clean, she ended up doing it herself as cleaning gave her a sense of control and some therapy clear of anxiety. She went ahead and took all the gifts up to her bedroom where it was much more quiet and alone amidst others.
She plopped herself down on the bed, opening a small bottle of lavender oil to rub to her belly that Doña Maribel suggested was good for calming stretch marks. She did not mind them, she knew it was natural for her body to expand to fit the babe, but what did bother her was the itchiness to it.
Not only did the oil soothe itch, but the frijolito loved it when she would firmly massage the spot where it rested. She once massaged the side of her belly only to find out the dragonling was ticklish there.
She nearly screamed when she heard two loud knocks at her door, revealing a certain black haired witch.
“Mind if I come in?” Alys asked, her head popping inside the little crevice of the door. As much as she wanted to be alone, she muttered a simple yes. Alys made herself comfortable by plopping down to the left of her on the bed.
“I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier, I was out of line to give you those scrolls in the presence of your family.” Alys admitted, her enchanting face etched with sincerity.
She sighed, “You were. I have a feeling my family will ask me more questions about it.”
Alys made a face that suggested she was thinking about something, “I could always make them forget it. Just say the words and I’ll do it.” Alys promised.
“No, no more magic or anything of what I used to think was fictional. I mean it Alys, I don't want to ever think of Aemond Targaryen.”
Alys understood what she meant, after her version of Aemond died at the Battle Above the Gods Eye, she too didn’t want to think of him. The only thing that mattered was her son, her beautiful little boy that was taken too soon. She regretted not saving him sooner and transporting him to this new world she found. Alys had a feeling that he’d love it here, this country full of colors and great food.
Even if Alys could bring him back from the dead, her son’s body resided in the Riverlands.
“What if…” Alys thought before continuing, “What if I could take the memories away? Just the ones of him and-”
“Forgetting doesn’t change what happened,” She bickered a little too loudly causing the babe to stir and kick all around.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Alys began to admire the many gifts she’d been given, never in her life had she seen so many boxes that read to be diapers. She had only used scraps of linen she’d find lying around and cleaned it when her son did his business. Disposable diapers sounded less work but the thought of the amount of waste in this world seemed unappealing and would much rather keep the scraps of linen.
“This isn’t really your thing, is it?” Alys motioned her head to the side where her window was, her family still celebrating outside with the whole neighborhood.
“Not really. This whole thing was organized by my primas and tios. But now that I look back on it I think this was an excuse for my family to throw a party and drink,” She chuckles, even more when she sees her tios, Mario and Pedro dancing together (most likely drunk) to an uncoordinated cumbia.
Alys also lets out a chuckle of agreement, “Your tio Chema kept giving me Coronas after Coronas. I’m amazed that I’m not drunk.”
She smiles, knowing damn well tio Chema loves to get anyone drunk. He’d even pour an ounce to the dog’s kibble too if he could.
“But you are quite lucky you know,” Alys turns to her with a solemn look in her forest green eyes. “To have a family who loves you so much enough to throw you a grand celebration for the babe that you carry.” All that Alys got in return was being called a whore when she was far enough to show. Of course, Aemond hadn’t been one of those people. He rejoiced when she first told him months after he took her as his bedmate.
“I didn’t.” Alys shrugged. Even though she despised touch, she placed her hand on top of Alys’ and gave it a squeeze. Alys’ eyes began to incite with tears at the gesture, but she quickly shrugged the feeling off.
“This isn’t about me, this is about you. I know you said no more Westeros talk but I’ve been meaning to give you this for a while now and I wish not to keep it anymore.” Alys placed a medium sized box on her lap. Whatever was inside had some weight into it.
“You already gave me a gift, Alys-” She declines but the older witch shakes her head and gestures for her to open it.
She unwraps the green ribbon and opens the top of the box, revealing some kind of oval shaped rock. The color was a mixture of teal and violet, its edges were rough and scaled to the touch.
It was not just some rock. It was an egg.
“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is, Alys.” She murmured anxiously, distancing herself from the object. Alys proudly smiled, “If you assume this is a dragon egg, then yes you’re correct.”
She immediately places the dragon egg back in the box, afraid of the little thing hatching in a world that it isn’t supposed to be hatched. “You can’t just give me a dragon egg! What if this thing hatches? Dragons aren’t-” She babbled before she was rudely interrupted.
“Relax, I have enchanted it into a stone. It will not hatch here, I made sure of it.” Alys reassured, placing the egg back onto her hands.
Still startled, she shook her head. “Nope, I can’t accept this Alys.” She gave the egg back. If anyone were to walk in it’d look like they were playing a game of hot potato.
“Yes you can and you will. Besides, it’s not like it’s for you; it’s for the babe.”
She narrowed her eyes, it was still a dragon egg. “How did you even get a dragon’s egg anyways?”
Alys sighs, sitting back down on the bed taking a trip down memory lane. “My version of Aemond gave it to me. After I told him I was with child he made sure to give me one of Dreamfyre’s eggs. Though, Aemond died shortly after and it did not hatch. My son however, was sad about it but I knew if it hatched Aegon the Younger would send his men to either kill it or to take it for himself since his own dragon died. So I kept the egg for myself.”
She still had many more questions to ask but for now it would suffice. She walked to the crib that she purchased not too long ago and placed the teal-violet egg next to some dragon plushies she knew the frijolito would like.
“Thank you Alys,” She told Alys with a smile before releasing a long tired yawn.
Alys nodded, grabbing her purse, another fashionable invention she loved from this world, deciding to give the young girl some rest. She suddenly came to a stop at her bedroom door.
“You know, you deserve happiness. I believe that young boy with the curls will give you and your babe just that. Give him a chance, take that risk and follow him.”
With that Alys left.
Four days later, she knocked at Armando’s door with her belongings in her hands and left with him to Oaxaca. A month later, they both married in a small Catholic church next to their families. True to Alys’ and her abuela’s words, she was happy with Armando.
Unbeknownst to her, her true husband had been watching through the flames.
“Oh, my love it seems like you have forgotten who you belong to. Fret not, you will learn soon enough.”
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#prince aemond#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd fanfic#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x you#dark aemond x reader
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listen there’s no way seungcheol’s possessive ass doesn’t have a creampie kink. i’m 99.9% convinced.
he absolutely loves cumming in you. especially if it’s been a while. it’s like every time he fills you up, you become a little more his. he loves cumming in you when he’s fucking you rough, when he’s fucking you quick, when he’s fucking you kinky, but especially when he’s fucking you nice and slow. because just think about it…
—
it had been almost 2 months since you’d last had any real alone time with cheol. between his tour and your schedule, there was just enough time for quick kisses and sleepy cuddles. but he was finally back and as soon as you met one thing led to another.
he was especially sweet tonight. you could feel it from the moment he first kissed you - a deep lingering kiss. it was like he was trying to give you all his pent up love.
and he remained sweet all through - as he undressed you, kissed you all over, ate you out, and now, as he was fucking you.
‘does that feel good?’ he asks, his thrusts still slow and deliberate. he wants to take his time with you tonight.
you nod, your hand resting on his chest as he pushes in and out of you. ‘deeper..’ you moan and he gives in immediately.
as your eyes flutter shut, you feel his warm palm against your cheek ‘my sweet baby’ he whispers fondly, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
you’re in heaven. it had been so long since he had called you his in person. it makes you giddy.
you move your hand to his neck pulling him closer until you can feel his warm breath on your skin. he smiles, kissing you softly before mumbling against your lips ‘i almost forgot how well you take me…you always make me feel so good…my pretty girl’
‘cheol..’ you moan at his praises. ‘i’m yours...’ you’re not sure what prompts you to say that but it’s exactly what he’s wanted to hear.
the past few months of being away were harder for him than he anticipated. no amount of calls or texts filled the void of not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. but now, hearing those words while he’s inside you is so intimate, so..sincere that it feels exactly like the reassurance he needed.
he loves it. and he never wants anyone else to hear it from you.
‘say that again’
you look at up him, doe-eyed ‘i’m yours…’ you say, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he picks up the pace.
‘you’re mine?’
you nod ‘yours..’ you repeat, your eyebrows furrowing as he starts fucking you harder.
‘i belong to you..’
he’s delirious.
‘show me how you belong to me baby…how should I make you mine?’ he moans into your ear, slamming into you.
‘cum inside me...please...fill me with your cum’ you can hear his breathing get heavier.
‘fu-ck..keep saying that’
‘cum inside me’ you repeat those 3 words like a prayer as he’s on the edge of his orgasm.
as you utter them one last time, cheol groans, his entire weight on top of you as he cums, curses and praises on his lips. you cling onto him as you feel his warm cum filling you up.
he stays like that for a few seconds riding out his orgasm before pulling out and watching his thick cum drip out of you. ‘pretty..’ he whispers to himself.
__
yeah, i’m 99.9% convinced.
#scoups#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol drabble#seungcheol oneshot#seungcheol imagine#this was just a random thought
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Tsu'tey X Male Omaticaya Reader
A/N: Tsu'tey lives after the war therefore he is Olo'eyktan still but, shares it with Jake.
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Of course, when you gather the courage to gift Tsu'tey your courting gift everything goes to shit. You were okay with Jake Sully mating Neytiri, in fact, you were happy because that meant that Tsu'tey was not betrothed to anyone. You thanked Jake Sully and just as Tsu'tey got over it, he honestly had no choice since once you choose a mate that is who you stay with for the rest of your life, war broke out. You had no time to think or worry about trying to court Tsu'tey. He is the new Olo'eyktan since Euytkan was killed and had to find a way to bring peace. The humans destroyed Kutral, your home tree, and many of your friends that you grew up with were killed. You were angry, but, peace overtook you when Jake came in riding Toruk and became the 6th Toruk Makto. War, fear, anger, fire. It was all too much and happened too fast but, you guys won. All of you had won hard, heavy losses but, with Jake leading with Tsu'tey and Neytiri on his sides we won. Tsu'tey was heavily injured but, will live thankfully. You sent a prayer to Eywa three times a day ever since.
"Y/N." You didn't expect to be interrupted during your reminiscing. It seemed so long ago that the war happened but, it was only a month ago and Tsu'tey had recovered mostly, his duties as Olo'eyktan were a lot but, he split them evenly with Jake Sully who was now his brother. It was endearing to watch Tsu'tey from hating dreamwalkers to becoming a brother to one. Well, Jake was no longer a dreamwalker, he passed through the eye of Eywa and became a Na'vi no longer did he have a human body.
"Hello, Jake Sully. How are you doing? How's Neytiri?" You got comfortable on the branch patting the space next to you and urging him to take a seat. He did as he sighed and started talking about how rough it has been trying to accommodate Na'vi life, how he feels, and everything.
"I really feel like I am not doing this right. I feel as if I am not good enough, I don't want to keep making so many mistakes." You hummed placing a comforting arm around his shoulders. You always were affectionate when it came to anyone so you were glad that he did not push you off in fact, he leaned a little into the comfortable touch.
"Eywa does not make mistakes. She saw you for who you will become. She gave you a chance none of us were willing to give you nor did we have to. I will forever be grateful that we did. As for the mistakes, yes, they were mistakes with big consequences but, mistakes are meant to be forgiven. If we never forgive, we will not be able to live. No one is perfect. You have Neytiri, Mo'at, Tsu'tey, and the clan to help you along. I was born Na'vi and on this moon and I still do not know everything to do and make so many mistakes. This applies to you as well. You should be proud of your victories and not only focus on your failures both past and present. We wouldn't have won and driven the sky people away if it was not for you. Be proud of that. Now go take care of your people Olo'eyktan." You squeezed him in a hug smiling when he hugged you back and looked at you with a grin.
"You're a great man Y/N. Anyone would be lucky to have you." You felt your smile falter a bit looking at him in slight confusion when he smirked at you. "No wonder Tsu'tey talks about you non-stop." You felt your jaw drop as he winked before leaving you with a pat on the shoulder. Tsu'tey talked about you? You had no idea and you silently thanked Jake for giving you this information as well as the courage to try again with the courting.
"Jake Sully you are amazing." You whispered this to yourself as you decided to head to where Tsu'tey was knowing he was busy with moving everyone to the new home that he, Jake, and Neytiri had found for everyone in the clan. As you were in the trees you passed by Jake and deciding to tease him as well you murmured low enough for him to hear "Congratulations on becoming a father." You smirked over your shoulder watching him drop his bow and jaw at you in shock making you laugh out loud. Their secret was safe with you, you weren't supposed to know but, you can tell by the slight swell of her stomach and the way both she and Jake protected her stomach. You continued your way to where Tsu'tey would be in his home for a few minutes.
"Where are you heading off in a hurry?" You stopped hard almost falling off the branch if not for the steadying hand on your waist pulling you back up. You turned to see the person you were rushing off to see. Tsu'tey with the Olo'eyktan attire and a raised eyebrow. His body language was relaxed but, his ears were alert as well as his eyes.
"I actually was coming to see you. Just wanted to be with you for a few I know you're busy." You blinked with your head tilted smiling at him watching as he took in your features.
"I am not too busy for you. Come." You grinned following beside him as he took you to an unknown destination. As you bumped into some twigs and felt your puch hit your hip you became acutely aware of the courting gift you had for him in there. You never left it and took it everywhere you went just in case an opportunity came up. "Was there something, in particular, you wanted to talk about?"
"No, not really." You started talking just to fill up the space as he guided the two of you to a more secluded area and once he stopped and pulled away one last branch you found your breath taken. It was a beautiful hot spring with flowers blooming. It was very peaceful and smelled clean. "How did you find this place?" You walked around the edge of the spring aware that he was staring at you but, became too nervous to catch his eye. You thought you would be more confident when alone with him but, your mind and body betrayed you.
"I came across it when I needed time alone. I wanted to show you since...I thought you would like it." You smiled at the thoughtfulness and sat on a rock, setting aside your bag and dipping your lower legs into the water. You looked back with a smile when you hear Tsu'tey get comfortable close behind you, his legs spreading to be beside your body. Taking a breath and deciding to be bold you leaned over onto his right leg feeling him tense. You were going to move but, you felt him place both hands in your hair and re-doing some of your braids. You purred loving the way his hands moved.
"This was really nice of you Tsu'tey, thank you for allowing me to be a part of your safe space." You weren't expecting him to say anything but, his response had you shaken.
"You are my safe space." It was dead silent as if he didn't mean for it to slip but, he meant it. He didn't move but, the hands in your hair froze for a second. You decided to throw caution to the wind and give him the gift.
"I have something for you." You waited for him to move his hands completely as you reached over for your bag and pulled out the necklace with feathers and some of his favorite animal bones on it as well and turned to him still on your haunches. You took a breath as you looked up at him, his intensity making you falter a bit. "Um...I had this for so long, I had it since way before the war, before Jake even came but, I was too scared...Now I am not." You watched as he tentatively inspected the necklace and you felt like you might faint if he doesn't say anything. "I can take it back-" You were interrupted.
"Put it on me." Your ears perked up when he said that, he still had that intense look as he held the necklace. You sat up and grabbed it noticing he didn't bother turning around. You gulped and leaned completely into his space, feeling his breath on your neck and his arms encircling your waist. Your tail was wagging excitedly and once you put it on you tried to pull back but, the way he tightened his hold didn't allow for much movement. "Thank you, now everyone will know I am taken." He spoke so sure that it had you grinning like an idiot. He pulled his head back to meet your eyes with his own grin. "Oel ngati kameie Y/N." Your tail wagged in excitement as you leaned your forehead against his.
"Oel ngati kameie, ma Tsu'tey." You felt his tail intertwine with yours and you couldn't be any more content.
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Feedback and thoughts
#fanfic#fanfiction#avatar#avatar x male reader#avatar x reader#tsu'tey x reader#tsutey x reader#male reader#tsutey x male reader#Tsu'tey x male reader#fluff#avatar fluff
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earlier this month i posted about Medo Halimy's campaign, alongside two others, in an attempt to call attention to the fact that there are multiple ways to assure the validity of a campaign, including directly following the Gazan creators that are livestreaming their displacement from their personal long-standing Instagram/TikTok accounts; there is a way for pretty much anyone to find a trustworthy way of verifying a specific fundraiser, be it through getting in touch with the campaign organizer, following a project like Operation Olive Branch and others, or seeking out active online creators from Gaza directly.
Medo was martyred on August 26th, a week after the martyrdom of his 11-year-old cousin.
Medo started planting in displacement, posting videos in which he tended to tiny shoots and nurtured them into stronger plants, referring to it as an act of resistance.
instagram
it's important to acknowledge that while Medo's death has left a tangible trail - we had his online presence, and now we do not, we heard his voice and now we will not - this is not a "new stage", this is not a crossing of a line. the line was crossed many awful months ago, and people just like Medo, young and old, die every single day.
i want the people who contribute to any sense of cynicism, apathy, or skepticism around the very fact of existence of Palestinian evacuation fundraisers to sit with that: here, we have a person who we undeniably know was suffering displacement in Gaza; we have a person who was trying to shed light on his and his family and friends' daily lives, and was trying to get his loved ones to safety; we have a person who was never supposed to have anything to prove, but has now paid the highest price possible, because he was, in fact, a real living breathing human being, and he was, in fact, Gazan.
this is one person that could've lived, and didn't; and so many more like him are dying, every single day. it is not in your right to feign helplessness in the face of the very fact of existence of online scammers, because telling them apart from real people is somehow too confusing for you. find a way, for yourself, to make sure that you trust the source that tells you a campaign is legitimate, and stick to it, and act on it, so that the voices of people like Medo do not fall on deaf ears.
i want to be careful not to exploit Medo's passing as a rhetorical device or a convenient illustration; so i want to strongly and directly encourage you to please, please support his family through their loss, and donate to their GoFundMe campaign so that the rest of them could have a chance at safety.
join the people leaving loving, grieving notes with their donations in Medo's memory. that is the easiest thing you can do in honor of a life lost. keep him in your prayers, too, use your voice to stand in solidarity with him and every other person trapped in Gaza and subjugated across Palestine.
Medo's family still has ~$12,000 USD to raise; please contribute to meeting that goal, and once it is met, move on to the next one, stay engaged, stay empathetic, stay determined. i repeat, there is no excuse to deny these people a chance at safety and escape. not one of us has any right to decide that they do not deserve it. you don't get to decide for them if their choices in the middle of a devastating genocidal assault are ones you approve of, or can "justify" supporting. (<- this, specifically, is directed at people who have argued that it's somehow wrong to support specific individuals trying to evacuate because a) it would benefit corrupt officials in Egypt, b) it wouldn't help everyone who is forced to stay behind) and, again, there are multiple ways for you to know who your money is going to. don't become apathetic just because you don't believe you have one right now.
Medo deserved life, and so did every other martyr, and so does every single Gazan that is still here, still fighting for their survival and still asking for your participation.
#free palestine#save palestine#free gaza#gazaunderattack#gaza genocide#medo halimy#i've been slower with boosting campaigns/responding to requests bc life's been busy/hectic/hard#but i intend to get back to it as soon as possible.#Instagram
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𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Taehyung x Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where Taehyung didn’t give you as much attention as he should.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Angst, Short.
°•. ✿ .•°
Could he exist in a world never touched by you, Taehyung wondered. In the multiversed layers of this cursed existence, could he find one surgically clean of you? Could he delete the multitude of synesthesic reminders you scattered around every corner of his life?
But most importantly, would he want to? He wasn’t so sure anymore.
There was a half empty bottle of your perfume on top of his drawer, a single pink sock under his bed, a charger he found behind his couch. He called you one night, trying to lure you into talking to him under the pretense of giving it all back - as if he could! - but you didn’t pick up.
Was that how you felt? All those times he didn’t pick up when you called or didn’t answer your texts, too busy soaking up spotlights and drinking up applauses. Did his silence feel as suffocating as yours?
Taehyung can’t breathe. Is there such a thing as too much air? Too much space? He has too much of it all. He doesn’t want it. He wants your air, shared between the spaces of your pillow and his. He wants your space, the one he invaded when he threw his leg over yours, clinging to your body like a lifeline.
When did he let go of that? When did he forget his place? His place - not on the stage, not on the lumpy couch of some late night show host, not under hot lights, but right next to you, sinking his fingers into your hips and resting his lips on that one spot where your shoulders met your neck and his world met yours and all made sense again.
He doesn’t remember the last time he felt truly rested. He hears the sound of his worried bandmates fretting in the background of his mind but he doesn’t know how to help. When did you last eat? Two months ago, when you made him dinner and he didn’t show up in time to enjoy it with you, guilt gnawing at his insides as he heated up your delicious food in the microwave. When did you last shower? About a month ago, water falling on both of your bodies as he apologized for another flaked date night and he couldn’t tell if you were crying or not.
When did you last… About three weeks ago. All his memories stopped there, on the moment you walked out of the door. His brain rewinds those couple of minutes, forcing him to relive it, haunting him with all his mistakes, making him list all the things he should’ve done differently.
Taehyung reads through your old text messages religiously, your words a prayer. “Good morning! I love you!” he reads and tries to figure out what in the world he could’ve been doing that stopped him from texting you back.
A week later, another text: “I miss you”. He feels like screaming.
“Are you coming home tonight?”
“We should do something this weekend.”
“Let me know when you have some time to call :)”
And again “I miss you.”
You words chain him to his (our, he thinks, holding on to the possessive adjective like it meant something) bed. Maybe if he stayed there, where you last left him, you would come back and find him again, like a lost child at the mall. He should stay where he last saw you. He couldn’t risk it.
Instead of getting up, eating, sleeping or moving on he types into his phone, knowing his message won’t go through just like all the 187 he sent in the past three weeks. “I miss you” he echoes “and I don’t even have that right, I know. I miss you and if I had been just a bit smarter, just a little bit less of a selfish, blind asshole I wouldn’t have to miss you, because you would’ve been here.”
“Three weeks, four hours and five minutes since you left and I can now pinpoint all of the moments I let you down. I can name them alphabetically or by how badly they hurt to think about. Your disappointment is tattooed to the back of my eyelids. I deserve it. I hope it stays there.”
Taehyung types and types, eyes blurred and fingers trembling . He writes like an author desperate for a paycheck, a lyricist with bills to pay and albums to put out, odes and novels to all the wrong things he did. He screams his song of loneliness and regret into the silence of his (our!) bedroom.
“Please come back”
This number can't be found at this moment.
“Please come back”
This number can't be found at this moment.
“Please come back”
This number can't be found at this moment.
“Please come back”
And again, four weeks, three hours, two minutes, 28 showers, 112 meals and a million shallow inhales and exhales without you later:
“Please come back.”
11:23 pm. Delivered.
“I’m right where you left me.”
11:24 pm. Read.
And Taehyung feels like he can maybe - just maybe, hopefully, wistfully - breathe again.
°•. ✿ .•°
Taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ;@betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world
#kim taehyung#kim taehyung x reader#v x reader#bts x reader#bts scenarios#taehyung angst#taehyung fanfic
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God Forgive Me For What I’ll Do
Warning: spicy
Emily: (standing on the balcony of her and her girlfriends room)
Vaggie: (dressed in her nightgown with a string falling off her shoulder) Hey baby, why are you out here? It’s 9 PM.
Emily: Oh Y’know just admiring the view , getting some fresh air. Nothing much.
Vaggie: (completely doubtful and worried) Is that it?
Emily: Yes, I promise, (takes Vaggies hand in hers and looks in her eyes with pure honesty) you don’t have to worry about me this time. Do you need anything.
Vaggie: Yeah actually, we’ve been dating for a couple months now right? (She slowly pulls herself closer to Emily)
Emily: Uh-huh (her voice filled with nervousness not knowing where this is going)
Vaggie: (voice becoming more sultry and sexy as she drapes her arms over Emily’s shoulders) We just have so much love for you and we can barely take it any more, so we have a bonding experience just for you~
Emily: what do you-
(Vaggie cut her off by pressing her lips against Emily’s, Vaggies eyes closed as her tongue rubbed against the small seal where Emily’s lips closed. Emily was taken by complete shock but did not object to her girlfriend’s advances, instead she opened her mouth and gave Vaggie full control of her mouth as she closed her eyes and rapped her arms around Vaggies torso. She couldn’t help but let out a muffled moan from Vaggies tongue dancing in her mouth. This earned a chuckle from Vaggie as she took her hand and squeezed Emily’s ass that caused her to release a louder but still muffled moan into Vaggies mouth.
Emily pulled Vaggie into her, squeezing Vaggies body, needing her girlfriend as close to her as possible. Emily’s arms moved up and down Vaggie’s back randomly gripping her nightgown. Emily had lost all control of her body as her hips slowly thrusted against her girlfriend almost automatically quickly changing from back and forth, to up and down. As Emily was grinding against her girlfriend vaggie began to pull back and Emily let out a small moan almost as if to beg for Vaggie not to stop. Vaggie pulled back, her hands resting on Emily’s shoulders, their eyes half closed as they looked lustfully into each others eyes, Emily tongue hung slightly out of her mouth as she breathed heavily for air not realizing how much her lungs needed air.)
Vaggie: Why don’t we continue this with Charlie?~ (Vaggies hand slowly ran across Emily’s chest)
Emily: Wait, can’t Charlie get a bit… intense with extreme emotions?
Vaggie: She can, which is why with all the work with the hotel, she’s still… (gets closer to Emily’s ear) tied up at the moment~
Emily: (the blush on her face grows darker as vaggie with a lustful expression, begins to disappears into their shared room)
Vaggie: you still might want to say a prayer though, because we are going to do a lot of… bonding~
Emily: (turns around, clasp her hands together and closes her eyes) Lord forgive me for what I’m about to do, because I am not going to be sorry. (Quickly turns around and walks into her room, preparing for what will be no doupt the absolute best night of her life)
#chaggily#two and a half halos#charlie x vaggie x emily#wtf do i tag this as#vaggie hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel#vaggie x emily#vaggily#hazbin hotel#I am not sorry#build up to smut#slightly not safe for work
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Hymns/prayers for the Dead
I’ve never really considered reading/ writing hymns for the dead because I guess I never “needed” them, but with the tragic events going on the world right now, multiple gen-c-des and atrocities, I’ve felt moved to write these. Like I said in my last prayer post, keep speaking up, b0yc0tting, and keep praying! You can technically apply these prayers with any dead, but I had the m@rtyrs of Su-dan, Con- go, Ethiopia, and Pale - stine (breaking them up on purpose) in mind, as well as anyone else who have lost their lives due to the terrible events going on in this world and from their oppression. Also, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.
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We call to Hermes Kαταιβάτης (he who leads souls down to the underworld), guider of souls. Immortal guide, lover of humankind, you take special care of us when we leave this earth, and your involvement shows the Gods’ love of humankind, as there is a God with us every step of the way, even after our deaths. Gracious God, during these times we ask for your grace, and for you to take extra care of the souls that find their way past the river Styx. Everyday now, thousands of people die from acts of cruelty from oppressors emboldened by hubris. We ask you to treat these souls with added care, especially those of children, taken from life too early, while you escort them to the dread queen's home or wherever their final resting place may lie. Charm them with your wand and bless their heavy eyelids, bringing them a peaceful end for their final rest. Oh Lord, guider of mortals, grant a sacred end to those who lived the best they could.
(Greek pronunciation: Kah-teh-vah-tiis(ees))
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To the Savior of the dead and the noble queen herself, we call to you! Dread Persephone and shadowy Hades, though you may not take every soul into your wide walls, you watch over the dead nonetheless, those who wander your fields of flowers. We thank you for your mercy towards our souls, notably of the most restless ones. We ask that they can find joy in the afterlife, especially those who were robbed of it. Not only do you take in these souls, Lovely Persephone, you exact justice on their behalf, with your kindly attendants, or daughters in some ways, the Erinyes, especially during these harrowing times. All we ask is for justice and a peaceful afterlife for the many martyred people of all the atrocities going on. We thank you, Hades and fair-tressed Persephone!
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“Fear the prayers of the oppressed.” I heard that today and I thought it fit. The Gods are with us and the oppressed during these times 🤲 They hear every prayer and they are outraged as we are. Keep up every action and don’t forget about our fellow humans suffering and don’t stop fighting!! No act of oppression goes past them and they hear everything. It’s been almost a year for Su-Dan, almost 6 months, 160+ days for Pale - stine, and years for Con-go. The Gods count each day and count each person who say and do nothing. I just want add some of my favorite excerpts that get me through these hard times and reminds me that the Gods care (which we already knew, but yknow).
“The gods are not blind to men with blood upon their hands. In the end the black (kelainai) Erinyes bring to obscurity that one who has prospered in unrighteousness and wear down his fortunes by reverse.” - Aeschylus, “Agamemnon”
“Hear, Tisiphone, Allekte, noble Megaira, revered goddesses whose Bacchic cries resound. Nocturnal and clandestine, you live deep down in the dank cave by the sacred water of the Styx. Men's unholy designs do incur your anger; rabid and arrogant, you howl over Necessity's dictates, clothed in animal skins, you cause the deep pains of retribution.” - (First part of) Orphic hymn 69
“Hear me and be gracious, 0 renowned Eumenides, O pure daughters of the great Chthonic Zeus and of lovely Persephone, fair-tressed maiden. Over the lives of impious mortals you keep a careful eye, in charge of Necessity, you punish the unjust.”
(First part of) Orphic hymn 70
“For whoever knows the right and is ready to speak it, far-seeing Zeus gives him prosperity…” - Hesiod “Work and days”
“You princes, mark well this punishment you also; for the deathless gods are near among men and mark all those who oppress their fellows with crooked judgements, and reck not the anger of the gods. For upon the bounteous earth Zeus has thrice ten thousand spirits, watchers of mortal men, and these keep watch on judgements and deeds of wrong as they roam, clothed in mist, all over the earth. And there is virgin Justice, the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the gods who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Cronos, and tells him of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence crookedly.” - Hesiod “Works and Days”
#palestine#free palestine#gaza#Sudan#dont forget about sudan#eyes on sudan#pray for palestine#pray for sudan#free congo#eyes on congo#pray for congo#ethiopia#eyes on ethiopia#hellenic polytheist#hellenic paganism#hellenism#current events#deity worship#erinyes#Hellenic hymns#Hellenic prayers#deity hymns#deity prayers#Persephone deity#hades deity#hermes deity#hellenic pagan#hellenic polytheism#free gaza
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Psychic Sobriety Chapter One
This is the beginning of my fic "Psychic Sobriety". It takes the name from a song by Foie Gras. It features an AFAB gender neutral reader, and will deal with themes of alcohol abuse. It features (failing to) share a bed, pining while fucking, yearning, talk of addiction (nicotine, alcohol), PTSD, and cool rocks.
Let me know how you like it :)
Words: 1,450
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“Fuck me until I can’t walk. I want to cry, sob, scream, I want to feel something. Please.” I pleaded with him through thinly veiled shame. The liquid courage had taken effect and I spat out my words like a prayer to the devil. And maybe Leon would be my devil because he has ensnared me so well that I can only let out pitiful yells in his wake. He brought up both hands and encircled them around my wrists. He held me still, with the right force for me to know I was still in control, he would let me go if I wanted him to. But I never wanted him to stop touching me. He could kill me, and I would thank him, because his touch is so warm, and my soul feels so cold.
“You aren’t going to find what you’re looking for through me.” He said, voice even. It wasn’t a rejection.
“Let me try.” I searched his eyes, silently pleading. He looked away, as if knowing what I was going to say next.
“You know what you’re asking, right?”
“Of course.”
“Well then,” he released my wrists. “Ask it sober.”
“I am sober.”
“Tell that to the flush on your cheeks, sweetheart. Months of being too afraid to touch me and all the sudden you want to sleep with me? You know we have to get physically close for that, right?”
“I-“ my face went completely hot. Liquid courage had backfired on me. “You’re drunk too.” I finished lamely. He looked disappointed. I had to think of something. “And I want to touch you.”
“Did you want to touch me when you practically leapt out of my arms when I saved you from being hit by a car?” I flushed again, thinking about his arms around me, holding me tight as if I felt perfectly against his body. It was late, I was wearing my customary black, and even while shitfaced drunk he managed to grab me just before a car ran a red light. He picked me up and held me, hands on my back and knees. My heart ran a race inside my chest. The chaste way he held me, nothing untoward, took me out of it. Why would I think these thoughts about my friend? Why would I assume he would want me?
“When you touch me, it feels- distracting.” The look on his face told me it was the wrong thing to say.
“Thanks.” He deadpanned. His gaze looked so cold, and I felt so vulnerable. And to my mortification, my eyes began to sting.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- please don’t hate me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like- like I’m only here for- God, I’m so sorry.” I blubbered, eyes filling with tears. His gaze softened. He took a step toward me.
“Hey,” his voice was quieter, meant just for me. In the soundlessness of his home, it felt intimate. “Stop worrying so much. You’re drunk. You had a slip up, it’s okay.” I sobbed ever harder. He came even closer to me, and awkwardly placed an arm around me. I leapt into his arms with a force that might have knocked someone else off balance. He just held me, waiting for me. I placed my face on his chest and sobbed into him. He held me tighter now, running a hand through my hair while the other laid on my back. We remained like this until my breath fell even, and I slowly let go, releasing him. I noticed a wet spot on his shirt.
“fuck, I’m sorry.” I move my hand over the spot. He gingerly takes my hand and lays it to rest over his heart.
“Listen to my heartbeat.” I close my eyes and focus. The rhythm brings me back to reality slightly.
“Hey, why don’t we sit down?” He leads me over to the couch and sits down beside me. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” I mumble.
“No, that’s not it. Come on, let me in.”
“I feel… rejected.” I reach for the bottle on the coffee table. He grabs it before I can reach it. Damn his reflexes.
“I’m going to put this away. I think we’ve had enough for tonight. I’m going to get you water.” He stands up, leaving with the bottle of vodka. I sit on the couch and stretch out a leg absentmindedly. He comes back and eyes me, I quickly lower it. He hands me the cup, I take a sip and put it on the table.
“So,” He says as he sits next to me again, “You feel rejected? Why?”
“Because…” was he seriously asking this? “Because we are the same amount of drunk and yet you don’t want to fuck me. You’ll fuck anyone, why not me?” I start to cry again. He hands me a tissue. I try to wipe my still wet eyes.
“Hey now, why are you thinking that? This came out of the blue, I know this isn’t about that. What’s really happening?” I looked at him. Is it possible he doesn’t know that this was a confession of love? A confession for all the times I’ve fantasized about him, for every time he’s changed his shirt around me as if we were just friends? Does he still not know that I have thought about him every time I masturbate? Apparently not. Even while drunk, I decided to change strategies.
“Nobody wants me.” I decide. And to my horror, it felt like the truth. Was this really what I was worried about? But it doesn’t matter if no one else wanted me, or if everyone did. All that mattered was Leon..
“You? Come on, you’re gorgeous.” I cursed the god that wouldn’t let me respond to that by kissing him. Gods of circumstance, maybe.
“I’m… fine. But I’m a mess. You literally just saw me come onto you and cry when you rejected me.”
“True, but that doesn’t make you a mess. And it doesn’t make you any less gorgeous.” I look at him. He really does think I’m gorgeous?
“I think… I think I’m going to be sick.” I stand up and dash to his bathroom. I had the foresight to close the door so he wouldn’t hear me. After throwing up vodka, tequila, and bile, I flush the toilet and stand up. I balance myself on the counter and look at myself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, my hair is a mess, my clothes are rumpled. I don’t look gorgeous. He’s probably just trying to make me feel better. Like a friend.
I exit the bathroom with the aura of a wreck. When I reach the living room, he is still there, looking right at me when I enter.
“I’ve been thinking, why don’t you take the bed tonight?” He says, as if I’m something fragile. I laugh bitterly.
“Harass you, then chase you out of your own bed? No way. Come with me. Just to sleep. Please?” I know I’m pushing my luck, but he nods, nonetheless.
“Okay, just to sleep.” He averts his eyes, as if it was a painful admission. “I have a shirt that will fit you.” He leads the way to his bedroom, and you follow. You knew you had your own clothes here but didn’t want to bring attention to it. He reaches into his dresser and pulls out a large black T-shirt.
“See? It’s even your style.” He jokes. I smile weakly.
“Thank you.” I take the shirt from him, and walk into the bathroom, leaving him to change.
His shirt feels soft. He knows I appreciate the worn-down softness only something well-loved could provide. He knows everything about me. He won’t sleep with me. I slink back into the room, his t-shirt loose around my body. He stares at me, looking directly at my body with a face I had rarely seen before. I ignored it.
“Are you coming?” He asked. I nod and walk toward him. The bed is soft, the sheets are dark blue. They feel like cotton as I crawl under the covers next to him. He grabs my hand.
“Hey,” He says softly, looking into my eyes. “You are wanted. Anyone that doesn’t see that isn’t looking hard enough.” I search his eyes for any signs of deceit. I decided I wouldn't find any, and looked away.
“Thanks,” I mumble. He squeezes my hand before letting go. He turns off the lamp, plunging us into sudden darkness. This wasn’t how I expected to sleep together tonight. But our friendship is intact, and that’s the best I could have hoped for.
#leon kennedy x gn! reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#resident evil x reader#resident evil#re4#re2 remake#re2 leon#vendetta#death island#death island leon#the smut is coming#psychic sobriety#resident evil vendetta#vendetta leon
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i have a rough draft edition of the omegaverse nerevoryn fic i wanna share so. please enjoy
nerevar isnt super needy yet. he will be next chapter though. for now please enjoy some asshole in house dagoth being an idiot and nerevar and voryn fucking
Healing was a slow and steady process. Months of feeling sick and his body revolting against him for daring to leave his mate behind would take a while to reverse, after all. His appetite came back in full, at least, and while he was slower with the sword than he’d liked, it felt great being able to move his body again.
What he was having an even harder time adjusting to though, was how differently people treated him.
He was no longer Nerevar Mora, the lowly canvasari who only was afforded the privileges he had simply because of his friendship (that many people hoped wouldn’t last) with Voryn. He was now Voryn’s mate, soon to be proper noble of House Dagoth.
Healers and tutors of all kinds were all over him. Tutors to make sure he didn’t embarrass Voryn and the rest of House Dagoth, and health check ups weekly to make sure he was recovering properly. Nerevar was Voryn’s fated mate after all, which meant it was a guarantee Nerevar would be having Voryn’s child, and very likely said child would be the future heir of House Dagoth. Nerevar had to be well educated and as healthy as possible now.
(Nerevar was particularly annoyed by the health check ups constantly reminding him of that fact every week, but he couldn’t deny that when he climbed into bed in the evening the thought of Voryn actually breeding him properly got him very excited)
Guards moved aside when he walked, bowing respectfully. Before they were mostly indifferent; casually friendly at best, or rolling their eyes at him and making snide comments at worst. Now that his heat had passed, they could all smell on him that he was claimed, along with Voryn’s scent all over him on top of it so there was no room to doubt by who.
It was official, but also not. He was claimed, but there were typically so many social rituals that needed to be completed as well to make it ‘official’ in the eyes of everyone and have him be fully accepted as a member of House Dagoth. Which meant learning all of the complicated rituals, prayers, and preparing for it all.
It was annoying. Honestly, part of Nerevar really missed how he was before all of this. Back then he was just a caravan guard, able to slip in and out of the stronghold whenever he wanted to, honestly. He could practice in the training hall or head out near the gnarled trees of the ashlands to practice alone. Now all the guards had their eyes on him, watching him like hawks to make sure he never left the stronghold without permission and an official escort. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even go get a drink at the corner club without someone being on his ass.
But then he climbed into Voryn’s bed at the end of the day, surrounded by his scent, and everything felt so right that he knew he wouldn’t trade this for anything. Even after the aching subsided, being close to Voryn was as natural as breathing now, and imagining a life without this was terrifying. He never knew just how nice it could be to be mated to someone, especially someone he trusted so much.
“Are you listening?” His current tutor asked. He was the son of a councilman, and someone who was very snippy that Nerevar of all people was Voryn’s mate. What was his name again? Dagoth Ven? Something like that. “This is very important information! You only have a few more weeks to memorize it!”
“I heard you already.” Nerevar scoffed. “And the second time you repeated it after rolling your eyes.”
A vein could be seen on Ven’s head. Honestly, if Nerevar had an interest in actually doing so, he could get the other mer in trouble for this by just telling Voryn. He’d been disrespectful the whole lesson, acting like Nerevar must be stupid and incompetent just because he was a commoner. But Nerevar didn’t want to make enemies of the House Dagoth councilmen yet; he wanted to fully establish himself first. They didn’t know yet how ambitious he truly was, and it was best to fly under the radar as he fortified his position. Even if he tried right now, they’d likely just see him as a defenseless omega whimpering and whining to his alpha to make all his problems go away.
But when Nerevar was done, there’d be no mistaking just who exactly he was and what power he’d have in this house. He never intended to be adopted into House Dagoth like this, but he’d make the most of it.
“Well then why don’t you repeat it?” Ven asked through clenched teeth.
“The ceremony will begin with just enough time to be over at dusk for Azura’s hour.” He began. “I need to be clothed in ceremonial robes before dressing Voryn—“
“The young lord Voryn Dagoth.” Ven interjected.
“He’s my mate,” Nerevar scoffed. “I’m not going to call him ‘young lord’ and ‘heir’.”
“You aren’t recognized as his mate yet within House Dagoth, and you would do good to remember that.” Now he’d pissed Nerevar off, one of his eyes twitching.
“Or what?” Nerevar challenged him. “What will happen? You’ll break the mating bond I already have in place?” It was said to be basically impossible to break the mating bond between fated mates, after all. Once it was set in place, it was done. The two of them were bound together permanently. “Send me away from Kogoruhn?” Keeping them apart long term would only risk Voryn’s health just as much as it would Nerevar’s. Everyone learned that very well after Nerevar was on the run after being kicked out by Uthol.
Ven didn’t like that Nerevar was talking back. He hated that Nerevar had a good point even more so.
“I think we’re done for the day.” Nerevar announced, standing up. Honestly, being alone with Ven was only pissing them both off. Last thing Nerevar needed was to attack the son of a councilman, and Ven was going to drive him to doing just that if he stayed.
“You do not get to dictate when this lesson is over!” Ven slammed his hand on the table, before following him out into the hall. “Get back here this instance!”
“You’ve pissed me off enough for today with your shitty attitude.” There were witnesses out in the hall, at least. They were close by Voryn’s office just down and around the hall, not to mention there were servants and guards around them. “Maybe we both need time to cool off.” Nerevar would give him this out. Ven could either pull himself together, realize he was getting too worked up, and remove himself from the situation… Or Nerevar was going to take this opportunity to get back at him.
“You’re the one being blatantly disrespectful!” Nerevar’s eye twitched again, his blood pressure rising. It seemed like Ven was too stupid to realize he had his last chance to leave this situation and completely passed it up.
“How am I being disrespectful for calling my alpha by his name?” Nerevar challenged. Ven was slightly taken aback. It seemed like Ven was actually referring to Nerevar daring to leave his lesson early being disrespectful, but he didn’t pause for very long.
“You—“ The guards looked at him expectantly, eying Ven carefully while the councilman’s son it seemed didn’t have the thought to deny Nerevar’s claims “You’re being outrageous right now!”
“No, you’re the one being outrageous.” Nerevar snapped. “Demanding I call him ‘young lord’ and ‘heir’ rather than his fucking name.” It was outrageous. He could understand them being annoyed he did so before they mated, but that was why Nerevar avoided it around the councilmen for a reason back then. “And then saying I’m not his ‘official’ mate, like I don’t have a claiming bite from him on my neck—“ Ven looked truly furious then that Nerevar was blatantly repeating what Ven said prior, only this time with plenty of witnesses.
But Nerevar hadn’t expected him to be so stupid he’d slap him across the face in his anger.
It actually left Nerevar stunned—not from the pain, but just how little he’d expected it. All he wanted was for Ven to make an ass out of himself before he ended up retreating or being escorted away by guards. But slapping Nerevar? In front of multiple people?
“You are just some cheap whore who climbed into the heir’s bed for your own benefit!” He snarled. “I don’t give a damn what the healers say,” He continued, “The Good Three? Making you the young lord’s destined mate?! Ha! You’re nothing more than a lowly canvasari, not even of full chimer blood!” Again, Nerevar could only stare in shock. Nerevar wasn’t hurt by the accusations, he just could not believe someone was actually this stupid. “When that foul magic you used to fake this is uncovered you’ll be—!”
“That is enough!” Voryn shouted, rage in his eyes. Ven instantly shrank, a look of pure mortification on his face as he turned to face him.
“Y-young lord—“ Voryn didn’t give him time to apologize or explain himself. He grabbed Ven by the jaw, flame spell in hand, and watched the other chimer scream and flail as his skin burned.
“How fucking dare you.” Voryn snarled. “Not only did you raise your voice at my mate, you raised your fucking hand!” Ven was begging for mercy, the tears pouring from his eyes instantly evaporating from the heat. “And then you call him a fucking whore, commit blasphemy by claiming such a sacred bond made by the Good Three could be faked, and you insult House Dagoth by—“
“Voryn!” Nerevar snapped, grabbing Voryn by the arm, “That’s enough!” The spell vanished, likely out of fear he might burn Nerevar by mistake. “You made your point.”
Voryn looked at the burnt chimer in front of him, skin melting in some areas, begging incoherently. Almost disgusted, Voryn dropped him, letting him fall to the ground.
“Let that be your punishment.” Voryn announced, before taking Nerevar by the waist to his office. “Take him to the healing ward.” The guards moved quickly, picking Ven up off the floor rather roughly, practically dragging him away. No doubt it would scar, but the healers of House Dagoth were good, so it likely wouldn’t disfigure him that badly.
Back in Voryn’s office, Voryn shut the door loudly, locking it behind him.
“Are you alright?” Voryn’s voice was soft again, the kind of warm tone he only reserved for those close to him. His hand caressed where Nerevar had been slapped, healing spell in hand.
“I’m fine,” Nerevar tried to wave him off, but Voryn’s hand remained to heal him. “It didn’t even hurt. Mostly I couldn’t believe he was that stupid.”
“You shouldn’t antagonize people like this, Neht.” Voryn frowned, still fussing over him. “Yes, he’s an idiot but,“
“I didn’t intend to go any further than what I said.” Nerevar explained. “I gave him the chance to back down and let both of us cool off saying we were both angry, but he refused to take it.” Again, stupid on his part. “And I just wanted to embarrass him, not goad him into hitting me.”
“You’re in a delicate state right now since you’re still recovering, and—“
“Yeah yeah I know, I have to take care of my body so I can bear you a child. The healers keep reminding me.” Nerevar rolled his eyes.
“… I was going to say: and I hate seeing you get hurt.” Voryn sighed. “I nearly lost you. I spent months wondering if you were safe, how you were doing, if you were injured or just as sick as I was…” Nerevar couldn’t help his cheeks turning red in embarrassment now at the tender, honey-sweet tone of his voice. “And I don’t ever want to see you suffering again. Today it was a slap in the face from an arrogant son of a councilman, but others might be more foolish and malicious.”
“… I know,” Nerevar sighed. “I know all that. I don’t plan on trying to antagonize everyone, especially not this early on.” Nerevar leaned into his touch now that the healing spell was finished, closing his eyes. “I had to weigh my options. If I did nothing I’d also be seen as a pushover, and that wouldn’t be safe for me either.”
“… Gods you’re right,” Voryn breathed. “Sometimes I envy how clever you are, Neht.”
“I don’t feel very clever after I spent six months running from House Dagoth like an idiot.”
“You didn’t know any better,” Voryn smiled, “Honestly even that was a bit impressive. Your dedication to staying alive for my sake, despite the draw trying to pull you back to me… I wouldn’t have been strong willed enough to manage that.” Voryn was leaning in closer with every word.
“I wanted to protect you…” Nerevar whispered, his eyes dropping almost completely shut. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I…” Most omegas could only focus on safety and survival, their instincts driving them to stay in one place unless they absolutely had to move. Nerevar had wanted to do the same; to lay there and wait for his mate to return and handle everything. Yet, when most omegas just gave in to the desire to be protected and tended to, Nerevar could only focus on protecting Voryn. Maybe it was because he spent several years as a canvasari and worried about protecting Voryn above all else, maybe he was so anxious he convinced himself it was life and death so the desperation forced him to move by tricking him into thinking it was for Voryn’s safety, or maybe it was…
Maybe it was because of how much he truly cared for Voryn. Maybe it was that feeling of care that he was quickly realizing went beyond mere friendship and hormone induced sexual attraction. Maybe it was…
Voryn’s lips met his as Voryn moved Nerevar to be sitting on his desk, kissing him deeply.
Nerevar’s thoughts turned fuzzy in an instance, gliding his tongue in time with Voryn’s as he wrapped both arms around Voryn’s shoulders. It felt so good—unimaginably good. It always did in a way Nerevar couldn’t tell was the bond or the feelings he was too scared to name. Apprehension mixed with pleasure, as Nerevar tried very hard to just turn off his brain, stop thinking, and just enjoy it.
“You’re thinking about something else.” Voryn said as he broke the kiss, his eyes boring into Nerevar’s.
“I’m not, I’m just…” Nerevar swallowed, trying to shove the feelings down.
“I can feel your emotions through our bond.” Voryn reminded him. Nerevar swore under his breath. Right, the bond. You could open yourself up to emotions the other felt, if necessary or desired. You couldn’t exactly read their mind, but could sense how they felt and what they might be thinking based on that along with if they were in any danger.
Nerevar still wasn’t used to it. He found it… Intimidating. He didn’t know why, but he was apprehensive about it.
“… I keep forgetting,” Nerevar sighed, “I’m still adjusting.”
“You haven’t been using it much.” Voryn noted. “You can’t adjust if you’re not using it, Neht.”
“I know I’m…” Nerevar still couldn’t look at him. “I’m nervous about… Being overwhelmed?” Nerevar tried explaining. “I don’t know, it’s…”
“Shh…” Voryn whispered. “Just try it right now.” Voryn encouraged.
Nerevar gripped his shoulders tighter before closing his eyes. He focused on Voryn, almost mentally reaching out, waiting, and then—
Warmth flooded him, his heart racing, before he peaked his eyes open to look at Voryn who was smiling warmly.
“Is it still overwhelming…?” Voryn asked, and Nerevar felt like he couldn’t breath.
“I-I…” It was overwhelming—but so much so he couldn’t focus on that, just how wonderful the feeling course through him was. His heart was buzzing with warmth, aching ever so slightly and delightfully the same way his cheeks did when he was laughing too hard. It was how he felt curled up against Voryn when they slept. It was how he felt when they reunited. It was…
“I love you, Neht.” Voryn whispered. Nerevar’s eyes widened in response, his heart racing even faster.
It was the first time Voryn had said such a thing to Nerevar. And more importantly, Nerevar could no longer deny what his own feelings were. Voryn called it—the same exact feelings Nerevar had toward him—love. It was love, he…
He loved Voryn.
Nerevar’s lips crashed into Voryn’s clinging to him tightly. Voryn groaned loudly, and now he could feel Voryn’s arousal mixing with it, his own desires only growing from it. Voryn kissed him even more intently, holding him close, and Nerevar could feel Voryn was starting to get hard.
“Fuck me,” Nerevar breathed, breaking the kiss only briefly. “Get inside me right now.”
“Who am I to deny my mate?” Voryn mumbled against Nerevar’s lips, already starting to undress him.
It felt so good; Voryn’s touch felt like hot flames licking him in the best possible way, heat pooling in his stomach. Focusing on Voryn’s arousal as well only made him feel all the better. His mate wanted him, just as strongly as he wanted Voryn. The knowledge he was desired only compounded his own arousal further.
Voryn didn’t entirely undress him; quickly they realized it would only make getting dressed again a hassle. Instead they only did so as much as necessary; their robes undone, Voryn’s cock freed and Nerevar’s underwear around one of his ankles.
“Mm~” Nerevar groaned, “Fuck yes…”
“You missed my cock?” Voryn asked, before kissing him again eagerly.
“Yes,” Nerevar panted against his lips as they broke the kiss once more. “It feels so good to have you inside me—“
“I was made to be inside you,” Voryn whispered, making Nerevar moan. “Just like you were made for me…”
“Yes~” Nerevar hissed as Voryn began with slower, gentle thrusts at first. They were made for each other, it was true; the gods themselves made them two halves of a whole. It only made sense that they’d enjoy making love as much as they did. Their bodies and souls craved being connected, and Nerevar was quickly losing himself in the arousal at the revelation. “I was made for you, only you…” It also made sense why he never found other alphas very attractive; he was Voryn’s mate—he was always going to be Voryn’s mate.
“Neht,” Voryn moaned in between messy kisses. “You feel so good, so perfect wrapped around my cock…”
“Fuck,” Nerevar panted, “You knot is swelling up~” Voryn wasn’t even in a rut and he was going to knot Nerevar, knot him and fill him with his seed… The seal was still in place on him, but gods did he want Voryn to breed him already.
“You like it when I knot you, don’t you?” Voryn panted against Nerevar’s lips and Nerevar threw his head back in a desperate moan. Fuck keeping his voice down—Nerevar couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t possibly keep himself quiet like this.
“Yes!” Nerevar’s voice sounded so desperate, a fact that would no doubt embarrass him after this. He never saw himself acting like this with an alpha, but he didn’t care at the moment. “I love it when you knot me~” He knew just what sentences like that did to Voryn, and he could feel the spike of pleasure through their bond.
“I thought you weren’t due to go into heat for another week…” Voryn groaned, “But I think… You’re about to…”
Nerevar wouldn’t be surprised if he was going into heat right this second. It only made sense—Nerevar and Voryn didn’t get to have much sex his last heat. He was still recovering, spending long, long hours asleep in bed and eating to regain his strength. They did it only a few times, despite how turned on Nerevar was. Even afterwards the healers warned them to keep sex to a minimum as Nerevar recovered (already knowing full well it was useless to ask them to abstain as a new mated couple). But now Voryn was thrusting a half formed knot in and out of him, so much love and arousal present through their bond—
“Fuck—“ Voryn swore, burying his head in Nerevar’s neck, “You are—You’re going into heat for me—!” Nerevar wrapped a leg around Voryn’s hips, his hands clawing at Voryn’s back. “I can’t believe you’re going into heat just because I’m fucking you—!”
When this was over, Nerevar knew he would be embarrassed. Beyond embarrassed actually—he never anticipated his body reacting so readily. Wasn’t it humiliating to be reduced to nothing but a moaning mess, fully going into heat just because his alpha was fucking him on his desk of all places? Or was it the fact Voryn confessed to him making him go into heat? If so, that was even more mortifying that his body would react like this.
But right now, Nerevar couldn’t think about any of that. All he could do was moan and cling to Voryn, panting and begging for more, his head tilted as Voryn nipped and sucked a constellation of love bites onto his neck and shoulder.
And then Voryn surprised him—he began kissing and licking at the claiming bite on Nerevar’s neck, Nerevar’s body tensing.
“Wait—” Nerevar began, “Wait, if you bite it again I’ll—”
Voryn didn’t even let him finish his sentence, his canines plunging into Nerevar as his knot swelled further. Nerevar’s body went rigid as he orgasmed, eyes rolled back and screaming in pleasure as Voryn thrust into him one last time, holding there as Nerevar’s cunt spasmed around his knot.
Was it even possible to think like this? Absolutely not. Nerevar not even 30 minutes ago was proud and careful, cautiously evaluating risks and trying his best to keep his dignity in the face of a snide noble who despised him and thought that Nerevar being Voryn’s mate was some kind of trick. He had even been planning the best course of action to help raise his own position as he had no intention of laying back and riding on Voryn’s coattails forever. But all of that completely fizzled out as Voryn made him climax painfully hard, the combination of his claiming bite being reinforced and his body locking around Voryn’s knot, the sensation fully overwhelming. Perhaps ‘overwhelming’ was an understatement—Nerevar wouldn’t be surprised if he died from pure pleasure at that moment. His brain felt like nothing more than static and he’s seeing stars as he moaned and drooled, thoroughly blissed out.
“So good for me,” Voryn moaned into his shoulder, “So good, taking every drop… Cumming around my cock like this…” Logical thought slowly began to return to him, and Nerevar groaned.
“You—that…” Nerevar was desperately trying to catch his breath, “That was too much—!”
“I’m sorry,” Voryn pressed apologetic kisses to Nerevar’s throat and jaw, “I’m sorry Neht, you feel too good…”
“I have half a mind to kick your ass for that…” Nerevar groaned, still feeling Voryn’s cock twitch inside of him, the knot firmly in place. “You… That wasn’t helping…” Nerevar groaned. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m… I went into heat from you fucking me like this…” Reality was quickly catching up with Nerevar, his cheeks burning red for a different reason now. He went into heat on Voryn’s desk of all places, moaning so obscenely loud there wasn’t a soul in the stronghold who didn’t hear them. “And we were so loud—”
“It’s fine, Neht,” Voryn tried to reassure him, “I cast silencing. No one heard us.”
“Someone could have walked in at any moment…”
“Weren’t you the one who told me to get inside you?” Voryn countered, unable to hide the smirk on his face. “No, you outright demanded it—”
“T-that’s enough!” Nerevar groaned, completely mortified. “I was… Overwhelmed, alright?” Nerevar tried to shift his hips only to groan from how full he was from Voryn’s knot.
“Shh…” Voryn hushed him. “It’ll be a few more minutes, and then I can get you cleaned up and back to our room.” Nerevar huffed slightly, burying his face in Voryn’s shoulder now. His heat was fully coming on, the restlessness and anxiety beginning to creep up on him. But he took deep breaths, reminding himself Voryn was right here, holding him, their bodies still connected.
“I’ll give you a nice bath,” Voryn whispered, the offer sounding absolutely wonderful to Nerevar right now. Nothing would soothe him more than being tended to by his alpha. And, if Nerevar could guess, as Voryn entered his rut he’d also want to tend to Nerevar. “Pile up the blankets and pillows for you on my bed…” Nerevar hummed softly as Voryn rubbed soothing circles on his scalp. “I’ll even dress you in my sleeping robes, before completely covering you in my scent…”
They stayed like that as Voryn’s knot went down, gentle kisses and promises. When it finally went down enough for him to pull out he kissed Nerevar on the lips, gently sliding out. Nerevar whimpered slightly, once again left feeling empty… Already he knew this heat was going to be a weird one. He already felt more sensitive than usual, both physically and emotionally.
“Now let’s get back to our room.” Voryn smiled, helping Nerevar redress.
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The thing is, even if they do the whole moving in thing now… to me it is almost like putting Eddie as a side character. We’ve had time to see the evolution of everyone else’s relationships, and as you pointed out even Tommy and Buck’s was developed better than Eddie and that woman. Making them live together all of a sudden almost feels as if they don’t care about Eddie enough to give him solid development. Because what we’ve had so far isn’t it…
Personally I want her gone. I can’t stand the actress and it annoys me she’s still there. Because she doesn’t deserve it after her behavior and because I am at my limit with her smug attitude. I wouldn’t mind Tommy staying for a bit longer, I like him and the different dynamics he brings in (wow look at that, maybe a developed character can be likeable!) but honestly I want her gone like, yesterday.
Been trying to think of a reply for this, but I basically just want to say:
100/10. No notes. Because. Yeah. Yes to all. Eddie and Tommy's relationship is more developed after one episode, too. Hell, Maddie and Eddie's relationship is more developed at this point and they've had one? group scene together? But we know more about what they think of each other and how they fit in each other's lives even without a single duo scene of them together. So. 🫠
But I agree. It wouldn't make sense. It's been a few months of them dating. Because they put the cruise ship disaster right at the beginning and the first three episodes spanned a week? Or so? And the cruise was two months(?) after season 6? Does anyone even know the supposed timeline they're working with? Or is it hand wavy like s4 was and we'll just never know for sure?
idk the timeline is fuzzy so don't quote me on anything. But it can't be more than maybe three months that they've been dating? And it's so late in the game to try and back track and show development now. She was in 6a. They could have done something to keep up that relationship throughout the whole season. Not that it really matters or that I want her on my screen for any longer. imo the lack of shown development would have to be on purpose. We know Mr.Minear doesn't like relationships like this where you seclude the characters and can't have them interact with the rest of the story so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(let's go quicker, Timothy! get there faster!)
If that moving in disaster (a la BuckTaylor) does happen, I would hope that it's for a reason. A good reason. But even then, it's like. Is there really a good enough reason at this point? Because I just don't think so. I am tired. She's insufferable.
🏳️⚧️🕯️Prayer circle to get the biphobic/homophobic transphobe off our show 2Kforever 🕯️🏳️⚧️
#will no one give my boy the storylines he deserves??? 😭#when will Eddie stories come back from the war???#911 spoilers#911 s7 spoilers#911 speculation#thank you friend!#jenwyn gets mail
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[Did anyone ask for Part 3, aka the sequel to this and this? No? Too bad, you're getting it, anyway.]
Leon has been staying with you for over a week now. It's nice having your best friend in your life every day again, nicer than you thought it would be. This isn't the first time he's lived with you. After his family was killed, your parents brought him home, where he stayed until he decided he wanted to go back to his house. He was a teen when he made that choice. Your parents had managed to gain ownership of the Kennedy house for that exact reason.
He had moved out of that house a couple of years ago, selling it with the help of your father so he could live somewhere smaller with less horrible memories. Turned out his nightmares were worse in the place where the murders happened than anywhere else. Made sense, but he didn't think about that when he chose to return. He wanted his own place, a kind of teenage dream. What teen didn't want a house free from rules? But it didn't work out in that nightmare colonial. He traded it for a little townhouse and put the rest of the money in savings for future use.
That townhouse was his new home, the only one for him...until now, when he found he couldn't go back.
You had returned to work just yesterday. Coworkers offered their condolences, having heard you suffered a terrible loss which led you to take a leave of absence for a month. Some asked who it was. They had their reasons. Prayers, curiosity, sympathy, etc. You managed to get away with, "I don't wanna talk about it," for now, but you had a feeling it wouldn't work for much longer.
The thing is...Leon asked you to keep him a secret. He doesn't want anyone to know he's around. Even if that means everyone still thinks he's dead, he has to remain hidden. It's quite the paranoid request, but he wouldn't make it for no reason. You made this promise. You intend to keep it, no matter what.
Your parents have stopped by once during this week to check up on you. Leon hid in the guest bedroom. That's where he stayed whenever you weren't home. Hell, sometimes he'd be there even when you were, just in case. Can't be seen, or at least has to try to be seen by as few people as possible.
His behavior was like a fugitive, a man on the run. But he's a cop. He committed zero crimes. It's his job to arrest the criminals, not be a criminal himself. You try to imagine Leon doing anything illegal. The worst you can see him doing is shoplifting a candy bar from a gas station, and even then only because he was holding it and forgot he hadn't paid for it yet.
So what is he hiding from?
Maybe it's the press. Surely everyone would want to know how he managed to escape from Raccoon City as one of a handful of survivors of both the viral outbreak and the nuke. He didn't need that shit. Not now, not ever. It reminds you of when reporters kept trying to bother him after the murders of his family. Your mother and father shielded him from that as best they could, eloquently but firmly telling the journalists to fuck off. Leon was a little boy, not a news story. He always told your parents how thankful he was for how much they took care of him then.
Now it's your turn to do the same.
You're unlocking your front door, coming back from work at the end of the day. You feel something hard press against your back as a hand suddenly covers your mouth to muffle any sound you might make. Struggling is instantly impossible. Someone else finishes opening the door and you're forced inside.
Next thing you know, you're tied up on the floor. There's strangers in your house with guns. You're still reeling from being assaulted in the first place, so the shock and fear of your situation hasn't quite caught up to you yet.
"Where's Leon?" one of the armed men demands.
"Leon? Who--?"
"Don't even think about it," the man growls, getting up in your face. "You know exactly who the fuck Leon is. We wouldn't be wasting our time with the likes of you if we didn't know that."
Your brow furrows. "I was gonna ask who the fuck you are, for your information. I'm not so fucking stupid as to try to play dumb with dickheads who attack me in my own goddamn home."
The man backs off, but not enough for you to feel even a little more comfortable. The fear still hasn't taken hold. You press on. "Now, I don't give two shits who or what you work for, but as an American, I have rights! Rights that have been violated the moment you put your damn hands on me! If you think this won't come back to bite you--"
"Your rights don't matter in this," the man says. The look in his eyes has you shutting up, because it's clear if you keep talking, he will hit you and he will take great pleasure in doing it. "Look, princess, I'll make it real simple for you. We need Leon. You tell us what we wanna know, we get outta your hair, and it'll be like this never happened. You get that? Cuz trust me, I don't wanna be here any more than you want us."
"What are you going to--?"
"None of your damn business."
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to be strong. This man is intimidating, but he's talking about your best friend. He's with other men and they're all armed and they want your best friend. If this guy knows anything about you, he should know you won't put Leon in danger just to save yourself. You'd never.
"Just kill me. I ain't telling you shit," you say.
It doesn't have the impact you want since your voice is shaking and you can feel tears stinging your eyes, but it's the truth. You won't talk. You won't give up Leon to them. They've disrespected you, threatened you. They're hunting Leon for some reason. You don't need to know the reason, you decide. You can die without knowing, as long as it means Leon is safe.
Before the scene can escalate, your hero swoops in for the rescue, bypassing all the other armed men to put himself between you and your immediate threat. You wish he hadn't. Now they'll take him away from you to do...whatever it is they wanted with him. If he just took this opportunity to escape...
"Mr. Kennedy," the man says. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"
"Yeah, I know," Leon says in a tight voice. "But that's on me, not her. She's got nothing to do with this, alright? Leave her alone."
"You brought her into this. What have you told her?"
"Not a goddamn thing! She's just given me somewhere to stay! That's it! She doesn't know anything!"
It's true. He hasn't told you anything about Raccoon City or the month he was gone after that. He was protecting you by keeping that to himself. Now he's protecting you again. The desperation cuts right through to your heart. Just who are these guys that they've got Leon Scott Kennedy so scared for you?
"Even if I believe you, which is a fucking huge if...I have my orders. We're to take both of you in for questioning." The man shakes his head as the other guys grab Leon and pick you off the ground. "This wouldn't have had to happen if you'd just stayed on base, Kennedy. You have no one to blame but yourself."
You're pushed into an unmarked but clearly military vehicle, still tied up with an armed man on either side of you. Leon is likewise sandwiched in the seat across from yours, facing you. The leader of the squad and another guy take the front and passenger seats. Then you're off to...who knows where?
Leon is seething as he looks at you. It's not because of you, but rather what you've been subjected to by these people. The men are unbothered by his glare. They don't care about his feelings or yours. They'd rather not be here, anyway.
"Why?"
He's speaking through gritted teeth in a dangerous tone you haven't heard before. All the other people in the vehicle look at him.
"Why is she still restrained?" Leon demands. "There's no goddamn reason for it. We're literally fucking trapped in here with you. Untie her. Now."
Despite the odds being very much against him, Leon's unspoken threat is not ignored. The men at your sides undo the bindings around your arms, finally setting you free. Your arms are stiff and sore, but you'll get over it. Well, if you make it out of whatever this is alive you will.
Without warning or care about potential consequences, Leon takes your hands in his. His stare is still so intense.
"Did they hurt you?"
You shake your head. You don't want to talk, not after everything that's just happened, not with these strangers around. Besides, you get the feeling you're going to be doing a lot of talking in the near future, whether you want to or not. His hands give yours a reassuring squeeze and doesn't let go.
"I won't let them do anything to you, I swear."
It's a little late for that, you think. You suppose he simply forgot the word "else" after "anything" since he didn't see how these guys introduced themselves to you. He's also forgetting they have weapons while he doesn't. He's hardly in any position to be making promises to protect you or even himself.
You're both so fucked and the worst part is you have no idea why.
-_-_-_-_
You face hours and hours of questioning from government men, stuck in a tiny humid room with a single bottle of water and no food. They won't even let you out to use the restroom, forcing you to hold your bladder. They want to know anything and everything Leon has told you since he showed up at your doorstep. You tell them over and over. Your story never changes. It's never good enough, though.
What are you supposed to do when they refuse to listen to the truth?
You're tired. You have to piss more than you ever have in your life. You don't even know where these government agents have taken you. Any patience you had before is gone. Your tongue hurts from all the biting you've done to keep from crying. They don't deserve to see your tears. They're not worthy of that victory. You just want to go home. Why won't they let you?
You can't take it anymore. And you just scream. A guttural, screeching sound with no words. All your stress vocalized in one long, distressing noise. Your captors don't know how to react to this, so they just yell at you. Threaten you with physical harm if you don't stop. They're already harming you by keeping you here.
The shrieking is the last straw. Other people come rushing into the room, chewing out your captors for holding you in this shithole for so long. One of them, a woman, ushers you out to the nearest restroom, apologizing for not intervening sooner. She assures you that you'll be free to go and will be compensated for this. Ah, hush money. At least that's what it sounds like.
What about Leon?
She can't say. Or won't say. It's not her place. She isn't allowed. Another secret. You feel sick. You want to go home, but you don't want to go without knowing he's okay.
What she can tell you is they're not going to hurt him. He's a valuable asset to America in a new war and they're not about to do anything that might cost them his loyalty. You're pretty sure they already crossed that line when those men held you captive in your own home, but you keep that to yourself.
After your much-needed potty break, you're escorted into a much nicer room with air conditioning. You're provided with food and drink while they arrange for someone to take you back home. Should you be concerned about possible drugs in this stuff? Eh, fuck it. Hunger and thirst overrule paranoia right now.
When your way home is ready, Leon is there with your escort. Stoic, but his eyes burn with a harsh blue flame. If he could burn this place to the ground, that'd be the ignition. Some of that rage seeps into his expression when he looks at you. The redness around your eyes and your sniffling give it all away. They made you suffer. They made you suffer, because of him.
It's just you, Leon, and the driver. The car they're using is expensive, but it's also a boring black government-typical vehicle. You and Leon climb in the backseat. You haven't said a word to each other since your reunion. Frankly, you're done talking for the day if you can help it. You don't feel safe to do so, anyway. This car is probably wired to record anything and everything you do.
You're so, so tired. You can't keep your head up or your eyes open anymore. You fall over until your head meets Leon's shoulder, using it as a pillow. He lets you. You deserve this rest. You deserve so much. You deserve so much more than to have a friend like him, a friend who shows up when you're grieving his alleged death and pulls you into such a mess.
He doesn't bother waking you when the car pulls up to the house. Instead, he picks you up and carries you inside, laying your sleeping form on top of your bed. He takes off your shoes, then tucks you in more properly. It can't be comfortable sleeping in your work clothes, but he's not about to strip you or change your clothes while you're unconscious. Not without consent. You've been violated enough today...More than enough...Way, way more than enough.
Now that you're back where you belong, the weight of today starts taking its toll on Leon. He can't rest yet, however. He knows your home has been messed with and he'll be damned if he lets them keep their bugs and wiretaps and shit just because he's here. They know that. He told them as much when they confronted him for running away from the training camp. They've already forced his hand. They already used Sherry's safety against him. They're not getting to use his best friend, too.
Minding your peace, he scours every itch and crevice of your house for their devices, tearing the electronics out and stomping them under the heels of his boots. He checks everywhere twice, then a third time, just to be sure. It all ends up in a trashcan, which he tosses outside until he can dispose of this shit more permanently. It's the least he can do.
He returns to your room, taking a seat on the corner of the bed and looking at you. You're restless in your slumber. It's to be expected, he supposes. He lets out the heaviest sigh, closing his eyes. You shouldn't have had to go through any of the things those assholes put your through. He shouldn't have put you in this position. What kind of friend is he?
And when he thinks about that month...
He was beginning the training the government "asked" him to join, a task force for fighting B.O.W.s and other miscellaneous issues. Any connections to the rest of the world were prohibited. They wanted him to themselves, believing he had no one. He let them believe that, just like they let everyone who ever cared about him believe he perished with Raccoon City.
They let you believe he died.
A month of mourning.
For him, too.
He had to come to grips with the incident on his own. So many people met once and lost shortly thereafter. People he never got the chance to meet until after they were no longer human. The mysterious woman in red whose fate he wasn't sure of. Zombies. Monsters. Death. So much death. More than he ever thought he'd see in his lifetime.
You didn't have to see any of it. You didn't need to. You always had an active imagination. What horrible images had you tormented yourself with when you thought he was dead? How much did you cry for him? How many nights did you lose sleep? Just how did you grieve for him, the little boy you comforted during the worst times of his life turned into a man you thought became nothing but ash?
Just thinking about it churned his stomach. Neither of you asked for this. Neither of you wanted any of this. Neither of you deserved what you've been through since he decided to join the RPD.
Your eyelids flutter, then open halfway. He can't stop himself from gently cupping your face.
"Leon," you murmur.
"Sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No...You haven't slept."
A small smile. "That obvious?"
"Yeah...Look shittier than usual."
"Oh, you're one to talk."
You grab his arm and pull him down with you, his chest against yours. Your arms wrap around him. As if you're actually strong enough to keep him there if he didn't want to be. Your grip is rather lazy since you're only half-awake.
"Go to sleep."
"Is that an order, ma'am?"
"Mhm."
He shifts his position to get more comfortable. You're unconscious again already. He doubts he'll actually fall out as easily as you are right now, but he'll stay here regardless. Can't risk waking you up, after all. It'll be day soon and you certainly don't need to know that.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
#dreamer writes#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon s. kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader
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