#sera writes

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru

wc — 600

tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance 

Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower. 

If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along. 

“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room. 

He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point. 

Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees. 

“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs. 

“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.” 

“I deserve it.” 

“Gojo.” 

You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much. 

He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course. 

He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve. 

He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time. 

“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“ 

“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow. 

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down. 

“Go get the hairdryer.” 

Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it. 

“Are you still mad?” 

“Want to take a guess?” 

He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand. 

“I’ll never do it again, I swear.” 

“You swear?” You’re teasing. 

Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.” 

“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. 

“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly. 

You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying. 

But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention. 

“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?” 

“And go through this again? You kidding?” 

You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away. 

“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.” 

He knows you too well for you to disagree. 

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

some moments from the royal trio date in chapter 13 of my fic code violet

[sirius-black-killed-god]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Remus Lupin, Regulus Black & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & James Potter Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alphard Black, Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Additional Tags: Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Touch-Starved Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Wandless Magic (Harry Potter), Magically Powerful Sirius Black, Magically Powerful Regulus Black, Hogwarts Second Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst, Slow Burn, Extremely Slow Burn, Magical Tattoos, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Black Family Drama (Harry Potter), First Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolf Culture, canonically manipulative dumbledore, Canon Adjacent (but Eventually Divergent), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), I Wrote This While Listening to Taylor Swift's Music Series: Part 2 of Rewrite Our Histories Summary:

Remus Lupin had a secret.

‘Had’, being the operative word in that sentence. Sirius Black discovered the truth, all on his own. And, the thing was, the truth didn’t fucking matter. Not to Sirius. Because every time he closed his eyes, Sirius saw his future, trapped somewhere in the Nothing Place between daydream and nightmare. His future, inexorably tied to Remus Lupin.

Even if, when he woke up, Sirius was still forbidden to touch.

Fate was the cruellest Mistress.

The Marauders and their King entered their second year at Hogwarts to the echo of the drums of war across the moors. The sound festered in the hearts of every student, leeched its way into every nightmare.

And, metaphorically speaking, anyways, Remus Lupin was not the only wolf to sneak its way into this last, remaining sanctuary.

Here, at Hogwarts, monsters abound.

[robsheridan]

[Update: Apocalypse in Pink part 2 is out now]

Before Barbenheimer, there was “Apocalypse in Pink,” the August 1983 theme of fashion/culture magazine SPECTAGORIA. The issue’s controversial imagery of Barbie-esque models attempting to stay gorgeous and glamorous amidst nuclear annihilation sought to, in the words of editor/photographer Sera Clairmont, “revel in the morbid absurdity of the new American condition,” an “anxiety vibrating underneath all our plastic smiles.”

“It’s The Hot Pink Cold War,” Clairmont wrote in her introduction. “It’s ‘Material Girl’ on the radio and ‘WarGames’ at the drive-in. It’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ interrupted by the emergency broadcast signal. We’re told to look sexy, dress fashionable, make money, and spend money, but be sure we’re just the right amount of terrified about the bomb. Get that Malibu dream home, keep working on that perfect body, sip cocktails by the pool in your little pink bikini and watching the stocks go up — but STAY VIGILANT! and for God’s sake vote Republican, because that dream home could melt into a pink plastic inferno at any given moment. Just don’t stop smiling as the blast liquefies your skin into bubbling ooze like a Barbie doll in a microwave - it’s bad for the economy.”

***Continued in PART 2***

---------

NOTE: This is a work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.

If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.

[spn2006]

the fact that eric kripke isn't even christian really adds something to the way christianity is depicted on supernatural. because its really not about being christian at all, but about living in america, a country dominated by christianity, and having to decide for yourself how to handle that. faith is huge in supernatural, and the mythology of the show is very bible-centric, but notably, christ is never there. even sam, who starts out revering the angels, who once said he prays every night, doesn't actually call himself a christian or imply that he believes in jesus--the show is steeped in christianity and biblical lore and yet neither sam nor dean are christians. in fact, over and over again the church itself is depicted as a haunted house that sam and dean will only ever enter as strangers, as outsiders. priests, preachers, faith healers, chapels, crypts, etc. are all just iconography that create an intense sense of unease that sam and dean respond to instantly. as a jew, its very relatable. an essential part of living in america when you're not christian is that exact sense of unease, of knowing that the culture of your country has ensured that you'll get knocked over by christianity no matter where you go, that you'll see hundreds of people truly believing they're good people while doing awful things in the name of their god, and you have no choice but to confront that. kripke gets it

[anneapocalypse]

So, just curious how many writers and creators will have to be forcibly outed by relentless harassment before we acknowledge that "This queer characters was written by a cishet person and that's why they're bad" is not good criticism.

[rookthebird]

traumatized fictional characters recieving the bare minimum of decent treatment be like "i hope these people don't realize that actually i haven't earned human rights"

[pawzofchaos]

I'm so upset Pent finally found acceptance and a family and it was snatched away from him cuz he died for them

[libraryraccoon]

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

[alenseress]

And all things end

All that we intend is

Scrawled in sand

[cocolacola]

❤️💙 important finds from the Hellsing Ultimate Scans

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo Satoru likes his girls clingy. 

wc — 1k

tags — confident reader 

He lets you loop your arms around his neck and whine for kisses, gifts, everything he has. With an unlimited budget and the deep pockets of a man in love, he spoils you rotten. 

Here’s the problem with being the strongest: you will always be the strongest. From the day he was born, there was no competition. Gojo didn’t even have to begin to outstrip his peers. He was simply born better than them. 

But eventually, even that level of talent grew exponentially until he went from being simply unbeatable to untouchable. His growth was incomparable, leaving him a lonely god on his own plane of existence. 

That’s why he needs you: sweet and soft and demanding. Everyone else had it all wrong. 

The Gojo clan spoiled their young head rotten. Knowing that he would bear the burden of the world from the moment he was born and those blue eyes opened, his mother demanded her child grow up in peace. Nothing was asked of him, no demands, no pleas for help. 

The outside world relied on Gojo as their saviour, but within the Gojo compound, he was just a spoiled little boy whose mother adored him. 

The way he acts within the walls of the Gojo stronghold is a carefully kept secret. He’s as soft as a newborn kitten, hair carefully washed by his childhood nurses and left out to sun in a patch of light. He’s sleepy and warm and mellow, hardly the strongest anymore. Without knowing any of this, you somehow bring that back out in him years later. 

An auxiliary manager in training, you first met him when you were tagging along with Ijichi on one of Gojo’s missions. Ijichi was flustered, even more so than usual, at the thought of having to care for a mentee when he could hardly take care of himself.

It only made matters worse that your first mission would be with Gojo. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach, despairing at how he would inevitably fail to shield you from his barbed comments and wicked teasing. 

In the end, he needn’t have worried. The two of you turn the tables on him. 

Poor Ijichi. 

It started off as a way to bully him more, because Gojo could be such a little tyrant. 

“Come on, Ijichi. Let her tag along, what’s the harm!” 

“You heard him,” you had announced self-importantly, and thrown yourself promptly into the passenger seat. 

That was usually Gojo’s seat, but he was willing to give it up for some amusement. 

You hadn’t been given permission to go on this mission, but you had insisted. First you wheedled, then you whined, finally you outright demanded. You wanted see the powerful Satoru Gojo in action. 

He leans forward, arms draped over the back of your seat. He pokes your cheek playfully as he says, “Oh, are you a fan?” 

“As if!” You scoff. “I don’t care about you, I care about your cursed technique.” 

Gojo takes your bluntness in stride. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about his technique (he caught you demanding details on Hollow Purple from Ijichi once) or maybe it’s the way your cheeks puff out when you pout. He knows you’re lying. Part of your assignment to Ijichi is because you begged Masamichi to be placed where you could watch Gojo work. 

It’s easy work for him. The curse is vaporized in seconds. He makes it look so weak you wonder why they even bothered with it at all until you remember that this curse had been failed to be exorcised by a first grade sorcerer who had come back licking his wounds. It’s not that it’s weak, it’s that he’s too strong. 

“Anyone up for lunch? My treat,” Gojo says, still immaculate as ever. 

Ijichi, who had been standing so close he got covered in some strange muck, not even from the curse but from Hollow Purple cutting through the mud, looks at him suspiciously. Gojo is never this nice. 

You have no such reservations. Ijichi yelps and protests when Gojo brings you to a luxurious restaurant in the heart of Tokyo without a reservation, relying on the strength of his name alone. He doesn’t even eat much, content to watch you order whatever you like on his dime. It amuses him, the way you’re so confident about it, as if you know he won’t refuse you. 

He won’t. 

By the time you order dessert - for you and Gojo, telling him he’ll like whatever you choose for him - he can’t bear the burning question that’s been lurking in the back of his mind anymore. 

“Smoke break!” He demands cheerfully. 

“You don’t even smoke!” Ijichi says, terrified, as if Gojo is some high school bully dragging him out under another pretense to shake him down for cash. He might, just for fun. 

You smile and wave them off. You wouldn’t let Gojo do that seriously, but Ijichi is just so fun to tease. You’ll come rescue him later if it looks like he’s really miserable. 

“Alright, spill the beans,” Gojo says, leaning against the doorframe and blockading Ijichi from going back inside. “What’s her deal?” 

Ijichi just stares at him slack jawed, open mouthed, terrified, clearly still waiting for some kind of attack. 

“Oh, come on! I’m not that mean to you, am I?” Even Gojo can’t resist a twitchy smile at what he’s saying. “Who is she? Where’s she from?” 

Ijichi blinks. “She’s just some girl. Masamichi hired her.” 

“She’s a right little princess,” Gojo murmured. “What, is she the daughter of a clan head or something? Maybe even the Three Clans?” 

Ijichi sighs. “You would think so with that attitude, but she just comes from a normal non-sorcerer family.” 

“Her?” Gojo asks disbelievingly. “A girl like that? Impossible.” 

“It’s true,” Ijichi says. “I don’t even know where Masamichi picked her up.” 

Gojo returns to his seat with a overly sweet parfait waiting for him. You’re right, he does like it. Or maybe he likes it because you’re finally giving him your full attention, waiting with rapt delight to see if he’ll give it full stars. 

He thinks he might take you out to dinner more, if it gets you to look at him like that. You might not be a clan princess yet, but he can’t wait to make you one.

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

okay but fr here's a list of reasons to read code violet

sumigoro parallels that live rent free in my mind

sumigoro showtime!!

sumire yoshizawa fix it fic

akechi lives and learns how to live

akechi gets an ideal reality with his mama in it and Suffers

akira gets the love and support he deserves while Going Through It during third sem

royal trio big bang burger challenge

shusumi but Better

akeshu! rivals! The Glove payoff!

akesumi friendship and queerplatonic slowburn

royal trio polycule slowburn because writing this fic slowly won me over to them all loving each other and learning how to love themselves together <3

if any of that won you over, then....

read my fic boy! let royal trio consume you as they have consumed me!!

[sirius-black-killed-god]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Remus Lupin, Regulus Black & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & James Potter Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alphard Black, Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Additional Tags: Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Touch-Starved Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Wandless Magic (Harry Potter), Magically Powerful Sirius Black, Magically Powerful Regulus Black, Hogwarts Second Year, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst, Slow Burn, Extremely Slow Burn, Magical Tattoos, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Black Family Drama (Harry Potter), First Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolf Culture, canonically manipulative dumbledore, Canon Adjacent (but Eventually Divergent), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), I Wrote This While Listening to Taylor Swift's Music Series: Part 2 of Rewrite Our Histories Summary:

Remus Lupin had a secret.

‘Had’, being the operative word in that sentence. Sirius Black discovered the truth, all on his own. And, the thing was, the truth didn’t fucking matter. Not to Sirius. Because every time he closed his eyes, Sirius saw his future, trapped somewhere in the Nothing Place between daydream and nightmare. His future, inexorably tied to Remus Lupin.

Even if, when he woke up, Sirius was still forbidden to touch.

Fate was the cruellest Mistress.

The Marauders and their King entered their second year at Hogwarts to the echo of the drums of war across the moors. The sound festered in the hearts of every student, leeched its way into every nightmare.

And, metaphorically speaking, anyways, Remus Lupin was not the only wolf to sneak its way into this last, remaining sanctuary.

Here, at Hogwarts, monsters abound.

[robsheridan]

“Apocalypse in Pink” part 2 (see part 1 here), from the August 1983 issue of SPECTAGORIA Magazine. Sera Clairmont’s celebrated underground fashion magazine was always scratching at the bleeding edge of culture, deftly navigating the trends of the Reagan ‘80s by simultaneously coopting and corrupting its materialistic obsessions. Never was that theme on visceral display than in this controversial issue. Apocalypse in Pink found Clairmont’s “Barbie dolls” trying to keep their glamour and their plastic smiles in the flames of a Capitalist Cold War simultaneously obsessed with materialism and annihilation; an America that, Clairmont wrote, “relentlessly asks women if we’re beautiful enough, if our clothes are fancy enough, if our pursuits are ambitious enough, and at the end of every night, if we know where our children are.”

In true Spectagoria fashion, what begins as stylish playful “nuclear Barbie” iconography gradually descends into horrific flames and melting pink plastic bodies, with only the womens’ smiles in tact on their smoldering skeletons at the end of the issue.

Reportedly, this issue was sent to Spectagoria subscribers in a package that included a pink lighter and a note that read, “when you’re finished reading, finish the job.” When burned, the magazine was said to ignite in a dazzling show of hot pink flames that sparkled and crackled, a performance art to complete the issue’s vision. As a result, Apocalypse in Pink is one of the most rare and coveted issues of the magazine, with no complete copies known to exist.

Most who have studied Spectagoria lore conclude that the exterior of the magazine was likely coated in a chemical powder that created the fantastical pink flames. But such a magic show has been meaty fodder for those who believe the rumors of occult powers and dark witchcraft surrounding the publication…

---------

NOTE: Spectagoria is an ongoing work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.

If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.

[love-toxin]

Leon looks so pissed off in that last gif and Luis looks ecstatic. Oh to be stuck between the two of them. Luis so fucking happy he gets to play with you as he thought you were adorable the first time he saw you but Leon pissed off that he's having to share you. Maybe you were the price for Luis' help.

ok im sorry but i have to go insane for like. at least a moment bc luis 🥺 my love 🥺

(cws: gn!reader, post-canon, re4 spoilers!!, confessions, flirting, a kissy kissy, canon divergence, some blood and injury, mild innuendos, a lil intimate touching & mutual pining. leon's bad with feelings.)

Luis is sooooooo happy go lucky about the whole thing but Leon couldn't be more pissed. you're his mission partner, his. so where the hell does this stupid Latin-hearthrob local get off on asking him to set you two up? the danger may have passed and Ashley may be safely loaded on to a helicopter and taken away, but does he really have no better way to spend the last evening you've got to waste here? he just has to bug him about trying to get in with you?

"come on, prince charming. didn't you say you would thank me for my help?" Luis teases, nudging him with his elbow as the two lounge side-by-side on one of the sofas in the palace's many sitting rooms. Hunnigan had pointed out that the castle would be the most fortified place for you three to wait out the evening, as another chopper wouldn't be available until the next morning. but despite it being comfortable, Leon's only got his mind on passing the time as quick as possible so he can get you away from Luis and nip that possibility of you two hooking up in the bud.

"pick something else." he huffs, arms crossed over his broad chest as he elbows Luis back even harder--and a smirk twinges at his lips when he hears the Spaniard groan and buckle in pain, his wounds still fresh from just barely escaping Saddler's attempt to get the "sample" back from him.

it was because of you that he even survived, you had shoved him out of the way and landed a hit on his attacker with your shotgun aimed right at his head. and even though it obviously hadn't killed him, and you'd suffered your own injuries as you were flung away and Saddler retreated, you still rushed to Luis first to stem the bleeding from his abdomen and whisper those soft, worried reassurances that he would be okay. you'd taken care of him, brought him back to life, soothed him and babied him and smiled when he managed to get to his feet--and Leon had hated every second of it because it was for someone else. what he wouldn't give to have you look at him that way, to croon over him and want to protect him and kiss his wounds better.

so duh, he's jealous, and that's why he's been so stubborn and childish over Luis' attempts to claim his prize. but even now, when all is said and done and he's finished what he started, he still can't get even that.

"Luis?" Leon's head perks up at the sound of your voice--your sweet, delicate voice wafting over as you step through the doorway. clearly you heard him whining in pain, your eyes say it all. they soften with your brow and you move briskly to crouch in front of your friend and rest your hands tenderly on his knees. "are you okay? is it hurting again?" damn that doting look you give Luis. he shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he tries not to think of you looking at him that way, in that same position, with his legs spread apart and you on your knees like that...

"only when I breathe, mi corazon." he laughs albeit defeatedly, and only now does Leon feel a little guilty for prodding some of those wounds. he definitely looks paler than he should, but it also hurts to see you so worried for him.

"oh, Luis--here, let's get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah? it'll be better for you to lay down anyways. Lee?"

he's so lost in the way your hands glide up Luis' legs to check on his bandages that he flinches when you call his name again, your expression questioning when he finally snaps back to reality until he utters a "huh?". and then you gesture for him to help you prop Luis up to take him into the bedroom next door, which he does for you begrudgingly and remedies only by dropping Luis just a little rougher than needed when he lifts him up on to the bed. it bites him in the same way as the Spaniard groans and you hurry to evaluate his pain, but at least now Luis looks a bit more pathetic laying back on the sheets--much like he's moments away from passing out cold. it's been a long day for all of you, after all, although he would be lying if he said he wouldn't be glad that it'd shut him up for five minutes.

it feels even longer when he watches you lean over him, and Luis' fingers trail up your hip to give your waist a playful squeeze--and when you two share a too-intimate smile at each other as you work on tightening his bandages, Leon's had more than enough. when you straighten up and turn to him to ask him to fetch something, the words don't even hit his ears because he's already leaning in. both hands come to rest just underneath your jaw and sit right below your ears, so the entire lower half of your face is dwarfed by him as his lips meet yours in a hot, wet flurry; one, another for good measure, and a third just grazing your bottom lip as you finally flinch at the sudden contact. a sound escapes you but whether it was his name, or a question, or just a sound, he doesn't know. because as soon as it's over, Leon's turning on his heel and leaving the room in a hurry to go get whatever it was you wanted. he'll just have to guess. something for Luis.

"my, my..." the man in question wonders aloud, a smug grin tweaking his lips as he watches Leon's back disappear from the doorway. "...finally got the courage, I see." he whispers devilishly under his breath.

"L-Lee? Lee! I...d-did I do something..? I didn't hurt his feelings, did I?" you whimper so sweetly, and Luis can't help but laugh even though it has him keeling over in a second, the pain in his chest bringing up a hacking cough that thankfully goes away quickly, and without any blood in his palm to boot.

"oh, mi amor, you're going to rot my teeth...don't worry your sweet heart, he's just got something on the mind." he shifts his position and looks up at you with a wink at the ready, but your unexpectedly sour expression staring back at him wilts that charm in no time at all.

"I hate it when you two act like you know something I don't." all that pouting you're doing now is just too adorable to resist though, especially since you're throwing yourself right back into securing his injuries yet again--perhaps, based on the concentration on your face, because you want to focus on figuring out the reason for why your coworker just did what he did. those warm cheeks and glimmery eyes speak for themselves, though. you must have enjoyed it, conflicting feelings and all.

"and--hngh--what if we do?"

"then just tell me!"

you huff, straightening out his clothes for the last time and gently dragging his shirt back down to cover his stomach. just when you reach his belt, however, Luis grabs your wrist in a tight grip and yanks you towards him--and when you squeak and collapse on top of him, your hands hitting either side of the pillow under his head while your knee rests on the edge of the mattress, that flustered face and those quickened breaths at your newfound closeness just melt any remaining hesitation from his heart. his thumb grazes your palm on the hand he's still got in his grasp, and with a smirk he slides it over yours to lace your fingers together while the other creeps up your neck.

you've got eyes on him alone, heart beating in your throat for him. the kiss he plants on your half-open mouth is warmer, sweeter, and deeper than the one you had from Leon--not better or worse, just enthusiastic in a different way. and his grin only grows wider when he breaks away and spots Leon standing there over your shoulder, watching with flushed cheeks and a vial clutched in his hands as he waits in the doorway. how polite of him, especially shutting the door so quietly as he slowly stalks up behind you both in your moment of heated, Spanish passion.

"...now, how's that for a confession, cariño?"