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charliemwrites · 28 days

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Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Brandon the crash dummy

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shadesoflsk · 5 months

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RETROSPECTION & OUTCOME

pairing: leon kennedy x afab reader.

summary: The journey of healing is not an easy one. Obstacles and doubts filled the path Leon decided to take. However, the agent had planted the seed of self improvement and with your help, a strong and resilent tree will grow.

warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of reader being a nurse, age gap (reader is 25+) angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of gore, blood and violence, no alcohol consumption but Leon attempts to, Leon's inner thoughts, self doubts, lack of self confidence (from Leon's part) mild mentions of religion trauma, smut, handjob, Leon cries during it, kind of switch Leon, needy Leon (give him a hug please) p in v, creampie, fluffy at the end (yipeee)

word count: 14k

author's note: helloooo :] This is my first try at writing a long fic, I had so much fun writing it. It all started as a character study for Leon and then it ended up as... this lmao. For the first chapters, I had vendetta Leon in mind and at the last one we finally have DI Leon! Please... if you see any mistakes no you don't. Anyway love you guys hope you like this as much as I do.

— masterlist

I. ETERNAL DAMNATION.

His cold blue eyes are a pool of misery and misfortune. The dreadful gaze of an individual who once was and continues to be subject to the violent reality of what a government can do.

He remains stoic to whatever adversity he has to face, one look at him and you would believe this man has no feelings whatsoever. He kills, he gets paid, repeat. A never-ending loop in which many would believe Leon finds pleasure. Especially since he carries himself as the Government Golden Boy aka best weapon. To use and to dispose of, Leon S. Kennedy.

Shoulder pats and praise words stir up a pot filled with anger and hatred — emotions that Leon doesn't often feel with others, just with himself.— He tries not to dwell on them, but it gets so difficult and challenging whenever he hears that his own achievements are cause for celebration. Do these assholes know how many people, infected people, he had to kill in order to bring peace? No, they don’t. Unbeknownst to them, those people could have been saved.

At least in Leon’s mind.

The suited men surround him. Privilege and smugness are qualities that Leon would often use to describe what those who hire his service are. Those congratulations and fake praises ring in Leon’s mind as he keeps thinking about the people he had to betray and kill for the ‘sake’ of his country, for his nation, and for the ego of his president.

But he takes the compliments, like a good boy. The president believes he hit the jackpot with a rightful agent who is proud of his country. God Bless America and in God we trust, he says as his hand reaches for Leon’s. The blue-eyed agent hesitates each time, out of fear of tainting his oh-so-dear boss’ white shirt. Because nobody cared enough to spare him new clothes and a wet towel to clean himself. A trophy to show the world what a powerful human weapon they had. Rough, tall, and with calloused hands, hands of a killer.

Leon S. Kennedy is proof of what the cruelty of a government can do. He is no longer a human, but the shell of a man. His name is printed in many documents which shows the gruesome acts he had to endure, in the name of the country. “Agent Leon S. Kennedy had successfully retrieved a sample of the virus.” “Condor One saved Baby Eagle.” He has received a plethora of names yet none of them really encapsulated who he was.

They have shown that they do not care about their citizens, like at all. Raccoon City was a prime example of that. He sounds like a broken record, the memory replaying in his memory every mission he gets assigned. But, for him, it was his first-hand experience with how cruel and gruesome reality could be.

Tough call, they say. We did what we could, they added. Leon knows all of those phrases by heart now. His gentle nature remains in him, even though it was covered by layers of a rough past and self-taught distrust. But even now, at his grown age, he fully believes they could have done so much more.

His mind is all over the place whenever he comes back from a mission. The usual white and never-changing walls surround everyone at the gathering that the president holds each time Leon ‘succeeds’ in a mission. His fingers seek any type of comfort, they twitch, they pinch his own clothes but nothing works.

People notice, they do. It’s obvious that the spotlight is on him yet he never embraces it. Simple nods and awkward smiles are his way to go and signature gestures. Deep inside, he knows those white-collared dicks spare him weird and pitiful glances every chance they get.

His chest burns with a desire for solidarity and altruism. He feels a lot and feels everything too deep for his own liking. His core dances between his hatred for heroism and the need to be a hero. He doesn’t believe he’s one. Throughout his life he has contemplated who he is and the type of man he has grown to be. His mind is a living hell and he’s the demon incarnated.

He wonders when it all started. Maybe he was doomed for the start, as he stood in front of his parents’ grave asking God why.

Deuteronomy 31:8; “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” The catholic father who used to hold the mass every Sunday said one morning. Now, did God forget about him? He should have prayed harder, to escape his own damnation.

Strained screams and the reek of rotten flesh fill his dreams. Madness and chaos are the main plots in his nightmares in which he pleads to stop having. His own reality was a mirror of every agony he has to face every day in his line of work. Why is God punishing him even in his dreams?

Those cries of pain and the smell of both burnt flesh and gunpowder are a toxic combination to Leon’s messed up mind. To him, they served as an everlasting proof of his devilish nature. He realizes that the image of innumerable lifeless bodies’ guts all over the floor with his brains smashed over the ground is a common occurrence for him. He becomes desensitized albeit his soul hurting for those who lay at his feet.

Now, he knows that what he's doing is in the name of survival. Millions of people live unaware of the dangerous situations he has to fight on a daily basis, they get to sleep on a warm bed next to their loved ones. If he wants to keep that on, he ought to kill.

But he wouldn’t do it otherwise, he wasn’t built for that life.

But despite that, the usual eerie feeling washes over him whenever he has to pull the trigger. He has grown accustomed to them, on the battlefield he was a fiery pawn, following orders as they told him to.

But as soon as his character ends his performance, his facade and mask falls off his face. He’s no longer a puppet from his higher-ups, he was just him. Leon.

II. RECOGNITION.

He places Matilda — his brush to paint every ground with blood — on his nightstand. To be fair, that’s a habit he can’t just let go. After every mission, his mind is all over the place for the next few days. Every sound activates a fear deep within him that keeps him awake at night and worried during the day.

He washes his hands, a thorough ritual he follows step by step. His hands touch the water, lukewarm to bring him some kind of comfort. He rinses away every blood spot he may have engraved on his bruised skin. The warm and clear liquid reaches his fingernails, which he meticulously scrubs, washing away any leftover of someone’s brain.

He takes pride in being clean. However, it had developed into an obsession at this point. Being dirty meant killing, and killing meant despair. So, he tries to avoid his gaze on the mirror each time he arrives home. Sadly, he usually doesn’t recognize the man that is staring back at him.

Eventually, he turns off the faucet and walks towards the couch. He’s tired, both mentally and physically. He doesn’t get any younger and living as an agent surely doesn’t help his case. But at last, his home. Safe.

He turns on the TV, he’s welcomed by the News Channel which he quickly changes. Nowadays, it appears that nothing good happens in this messed up world, and he doesn’t want to bring sorrow to his home too. He searches through the vast choices of channels until something catches his eye. Casablanca.

A feeble smile forms on his face, a simple thing like that brings Leon a small percentage of happiness, which it’s a lot given his constant state of dullness.

He sometimes quotes phrases from the movies he watches. He genuinely expects someone to notice, his tired blue eyes would roam over the numerous faces of agents, hoping someone catches the meaning behind his words. He’s tired, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to chat with someone.

Nobody seemed to notice, maybe they were busy.

Curiously, he had changed the channel just at the right moment when Rick Blaine said his line. Leon’s favorite.

“I never make plans that far ahead.” Both the character and Leon say simultaneously. It brings Leon a sense of joy. Pathetically enough, his hobbies remind him that he is, in fact, still human.

He sighs, looking around his apartment. It was dull, it showed his lack of decoration and personal touch. He believes there was no point in placing ornaments or things of that sort since he doesn’t even spend most of his time there. In recollection, he has no home. At least not physically.

He’s a man of the world, people look at him and see someone who is strong and independent rather than a simple man. But his heart’s heavy, with a burden and anguish that no painkiller could ease.

He’s tempted to grab a bottle from his cabinet. Drown in the burning liquid and pass out. He doesn’t like alcohol. But he has always been weak to addictions. So, even when he was a rookie cop and his girlfriend broke up with him, he ran to the nearest bar and took all the booze he could. Maybe he should’ve noticed the red flags, and maybe gone to therapy or something like that. But… oh, right, the next day the world literally ended for him.

But, he refrains from doing so. Deep down, he knew that letting his addiction win would be a deadly solution to his problems. Acknowledging is the first step to recovery, experts say. However, he knew that he couldn’t do it alone.

Before even letting more negative thoughts come into his mind. He gets up from the couch and walks toward the bathroom, again. He stays in front of the door for a few seconds, as if scared of going back there. Eventually, he does enter.

His hand reaches for the switch and the lights are turned on. The luminescent white light revealed his face in front of the mirror. He takes one, two, and three deep breaths before fully opening his eyes.

He bites his lips, seeking a sort of relief from that action yet he bites too hard that almost draws blood. He’s trying his best, this mundane act is no longer something that he does daily. So, grant him some recognition.

His eyes travel and land on the mirror and after a while, he fully sees himself. His eyes are wide open, not because he was surprised to discover the man that was in front of him. But to compare him to the one he used to be.

Just a few years ago, his blond hair was still bright, showing signs of his thorough routine. But now, it has turned into a black mop that could no longer be compared to his past self. His stubble has grown too, he was a late bloomer, he didn’t grow a beard until he reached the age of 27 when he could finally see some signs of pores growing hair. But to see his face so… rugged and rough was definitely a slap back to reality.

He takes two steps back, his hand reaching for the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, he takes it off, revealing his chest and abdomen. He was no stranger to his own physique since he obviously showers.

However, the sight that the mirror provided was very different from seeing his point of view. His eyes were observing someone else’s perspective, if he ever had the chance to date someone they would see… that.

A chest which was filled with scars and bruises. They were like tattoos, imprinted on his skin. Those will never fade and if he grants someone the misfortune of dating him, will they be repulsed by the idea of witnessing his tainted self?

He wasn’t a hero, he was far away from calling himself that. But he is starting to think that maybe, just maybe, those marks can remind him of his arduous path. Not in a condescending way, but in a fulfilling memory.

III. FURTHERANCE.

He feels… weird. It’s been a while since he last got a haircut, and having someone holding scissors next to his neck wasn’t something he was looking for. But, there he is.

It took everything in him to call the hairdresser. He has long forgotten how to even speak to someone in a normal setting. “Agent Kennedy here, haircut, out.” He couldn’t say that!

At last, he booked an appointment. It wasn’t the most expensive place, not because Leon didn’t have the money but rather, because he wasn’t looking to be surrounded by luxuries and opulence. A cheap but nice place would do.

Once he arrived, he noticed that he didn’t match well with the place. He knew he carried an aura of mystery and unapproachability but Jesus, it was now obvious with the way some old ladies kept looking at him as if asking: Who the hell is this man?

All of his previous actions led him to where he’s sitting now.

The granny behind him keeps showering in compliments which he couldn’t quite understand. A few years ago, he may have blushed and waved a hand dismissively, but now? He doesn’t see how he could be called a handsome man.

For him, looking good and taking care of himself had stopped being a requirement a few months ago. But it wasn’t something that happened out of the blue. He gradually started noticing the changes and once he realized, his whole appearance had changed.

His eyes are piercing and never changing, an unmistakable aura of exhaustion and helpness surrounds him. Yet, once the old lady's eyes land on him, he can’t help but smile back. It was always in his nature — he lives for others.

It’s always been like this. Naturally, his gullibility and his unfounded faith have shaped and molded him differently throughout the course of years. Having to survive an apocalypse, taking care of an infant, and getting betrayed by a certain someone would sequentially take a toll on him. Nonetheless, his primal wish for altruism and hope will always remain in him. They were his roots which led to creating a strong and fortified trunk.

He’s still hoping this tree will thrive.

The lady asks him how long has it been since he last cut his hair, and he doesn’t know how to respond. Normally, he would cut it himself, since time was priceless and he couldn’t nor wanted to go to a specific place to get his hair trimmed. So he learned by himself, which wasn’t the safest option.

By the way the old woman’s hands brush on his hair, shaking and trembling due to the years, he knows that she knows. It’s obvious by the way some strands are awkwardly cut and overall most of them were misshapen. A poor attempt at maintaining his heartthrob boy hairstyle.

He remains silent — for most of the time. — He doesn’t answer any questions that were directed at him. Not because he didn’t want to, it’s just that his line of job never prepared him for small talk. In fact, chit-chat just meant that someone was trying to gather information out of him, which prompted him to just refrain from speaking

The government has fucked him up.

He acknowledges it. But it’s not easy to make a change when that something is the only thing he has known for at least 15 years of his life. The curse of despair had so unlucky landed on him and he knew no witchcraft which could prevent him from that.

His mind register most things people would overlook. Given his duty at the job, he ought to be an observer. Yeah, he is also a fighter but he relies heavily on his analyzing skills before attacking. Knowing your enemy before striking is what has saved him every damn time.

His permanently furrowed eyebrows and cold eyes are the first thing he notices in the mirror as the woman keeps cutting some of his hair. A hand unconsciously reaches for the little space between his brows.

Maybe if he stops frowning.

Maybe if he stops scowling.

Could he give a better impression of himself?

It’s lacking authenticity, he feels like he’s acting rather than being genuine. But for now, he tries forcing a gentle smile which doesn’t meet his eyes yet it’s better than almost pouting every time he breathes.

All of a sudden, the bell of the door rings announcing that someone else has arrived. Some of the old ladies who are waiting for their turn start getting up from their chairs to greet the person who had just come in.

An everyday customer, that must be. Leon thought.

He was oblivious of how much you are going to change his life.

He can’t see you, not yet. But as the observer he is, he can deduce that this said individual is genuinely loved and appreciated. A drastic contrast between the way he’s received when he returns from a mission. Fake laughs, fake thankful words.

A complete fraud.

You walk as if you own the place, but your stride doesn’t come off as haughty or arrogant. You exude an aura of familiarity, hospitality, and therefore a gentleness that it’s foreign to Leon.

You walk towards his seat, where the granny is cutting his hair. As soon as the gray-haired woman sees you, he observes how her eyes light up with delight and joyfulness he hadn’t seen before.

“Adelaide…” You stop before you even reach Leon. He admires the scene developing through the mirror. He sees you for the first time, you’re definitely a nurse or at least you work in the healthcare area given your uniform. You have your hands on your hips and a playful glare was formed on your face. If he could guess, you just caught this lady doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.

“I think I told you you should be resting.” You squint your eyes as you keep looking at Adelaide, Leon takes note of her name. You are accusing her, yet your friendly demeanor doesn’t falter.

It’s refreshing to see innocent social interactions. It's a welcome-back reality check. At least, at this moment, he could embrace the tranquility. Although it will end as soon as the hairdresser informs him that his hair is done.

“You know I can’t stand still…” Her voice comes out as a booming melody. Even though the years were obvious by the wrinkles on her face, she sounded so animated and beaming. “This job is everything I have ever known.”

Now he can agree on something. However, he is fully aware the situation is deadly different. Between cutting hair and slitting someone else’s throat, there is a vast difference. But, in his mind, he could already make up a conversation based on that information.

“I know, but…” You take a step further and place a hand on the granny’s shoulder. Leon couldn’t help but feel like an outsider now that the three of them were reflected in the mirror. “You could just take a few days off… Your shoulder will thank you for it.”

As you advise the granny your eyes dart from her eyes in the mirror to Leon’s.

For the first time.

You acknowledge his presence with a nod and a simple smile. Time seems to stop as he scans your face. You look younger, you are definitely younger than him. Not young enough for him to feel weird about it, but there was a certain glint in your eyes that told him you haven’t experienced misery and desolation in your life. Unlike him who has yet to experience happiness.

He doesn’t want to indulge so much, but his thoughts are having a blast right now. Maybe it was his lack of social interactions and meaningful relationships but he wants to know more about you.

“It’s quite unusual to see a man here. I would have thought someone like you would go to a barber.” He comes back to reality as he notices you are talking to him. Your eyes remain fixed on his as your smile continues to be displayed on your face.

Someone like… him? Yeah, that statement isn’t new to him. Especially since his demeanor is still so rugged. But hey! He’s making a change even though you don’t know.

“Barbers don’t know how to cut my hair.” He realizes his voice came out rigid and plain. He didn’t intend to, but he is used to his military speech and tone. “They… just don’t get it right…” His last sentence is definitely more hushed but not any less monotone.

“Fair enough. At least Adelaide here knows exactly how to keep your hair safe from a buzz cut.” Leon lets out an amused breath as you joke about his hair. It feels like a gentle breeze, indulging in light-hearted teasing with a stranger. And not any stranger, but you.

He has felt attraction, he’s a man after all. His line of job wasn’t the most ideal to find a partner but he can’t deny how some agents were pretty to look at. However, he couldn’t form a romantic relationship there. Between death and violence, the battleground wasn’t the place to have a partner, form a family, and live happily ever after.

“Yeah…” He sheepishly responds, he doesn’t know what else to add. You had taken the reins of the conversation as soon as you teased him. Now, he hopes something comes into his mind to keep the conversation flowing.

“I haven’t seen any other gentleman wearing this hairstyle,” Adelaide says as she resumes her work. She moves the scissors gracefully. She is — with no doubt — an expert in this area. Though the simpleness of her salon tells him otherwise. “If I may say, I think it really suits you.”

“You should have seen me in the 90s.” Those words leave his lips before he even registers them in his mind. It was an innocuous joke, nonetheless, it carried a hint of self-deprecation. He doesn’t look like his old self, he knows that. Especially after seeing himself in the mirror that night. But nobody there has to know, for them, it was a simple light-hearted joke.

The whole salon erupts in laughter, he doesn’t think his words are that funny. But hey, he will take the compliment.

However, his eyes catch a glimpse of you not laughing. At work, most people wouldn’t laugh at his own words because they weren’t needed. He knew that. But then again, none of you were in a life-or-death situation. Leon doesn’t want to overthink, but… did he come out as a pretentious dude? Or an arrogant dickhead?

Or maybe you have caught the real meaning behind those words.

You let out a breathy laugh, not too long to be considered a giggle but not short enough to be a chuckle. You don’t add anything else, your eyes just linger on his face for a few more seconds before turning on your heel.

For a moment, he’s taken aback. He feels like he’s going crazy but for a split second, he sees himself in you. Not because you shared the same past or path and there was no way you had the same traumas. But the way you had observed him, made him feel analyzed, as if you were studying the way he talked and expressed himself.

Maybe he’s indeed going crazy.

Leon watches you taking a seat on an empty chair, next to another customer who gives you a polite smile. From there, he hears you telling Adelaide that your shift at the hospital has just ended and you just wanted to check up on her.

For a while, he relaxes until Adelaide tells him that they are done. She persuades him to bleach his hair after he accidentally told her that he had blond hair in the past. But he escapes her attempts by telling her that he wants to pay.

He walks towards the register and pulls out a 20-dollar bill. It was quite cheap, especially when he had cut so much hair. At least he looks more presentable now.

You appear out of nowhere as he was paying. Your frame leans over the counter and for a second, you let the awkward silence linger in the air.

Eventually, you speak.

“You don't belong here.” You say without an ounce of malice. You're expressing a fact. Leon has never been around the salon and doesn't look the part.

He frowns slightly, he was keeping up his laid-back appearance just fine until you blurted out your thoughts.

“It's my first time here.” He states before turning around and facing you.

“That I know.” You nod.

“Then… was your comment really necessary?” Leon's words could come off as rude even though it wasn't his intention. But, it seems they don't even phase you.

“Not really.” You shrugged. Your voice was nonchalant. “But as you could already guess, I'm a nurse. And I have seen people like you come and go out of the hospital.”

He is trying to understand what your point is. Under any other circumstances, he would have told the other person off for even daring to speak about him and his lifestyle. He wasn't violent, not at all. But sometimes his limit was put to the test.

“What I'm trying to say is that…” He sees your attempt at explaining yourself. “I think It's safe to assume you're an agent or something of that sort, right?”

Leon doesn't react nor wants to. People knowing he was an agent wasn't a problem since it wasn't a secret.

After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and nods. Being honest could be the start of a friendship, at least that's what Leon thinks.

“Was it my frame and physique that gave it away?” If he was an artist he could easily say he was getting better at the art of improving. Just a few weeks ago, he would have never left a comment like that lingering in the air.

“Nope.” You cross your arms at the level of your chest.

And there you go breaking his fantasies. He thought his phrase was so flirty.

“There's a scar on your cheek, it looks pretty deep.” You gesture to Leon where the scar is on your own cheek. He instinctively brings his finger to where it is in his.

That's one of the few scars he remembers exactly how he got it. 2004, Spain. He experienced what betrayal was beforehand. Who he used to hold in high regard was the one who didn't hesitate to hold a knife and leave a nasty reminder of his deception.

“I got it in a fight.” He sticks with a simple phrase, not diving deeper. Nonetheless, he realized you’re a perspicacious individual, lying won’t get him anywhere.

“Fight… right.”

Both of you smile knowingly, the smirk giving away a sense of teasing between the two of you, for the first time. Even though you know nothing about how far and wild his job actually was, you had an idea that this said fight wasn’t just a normal and common one.

“So…” Leon sees how you shift your weight from one foot to another. There hasn’t been a shy bone in yourself ever since you entered the salon but now words don’t come out of your mouth as easily as before. “If you ever need a nurse, you can call me.”

As you rummage in your bag, you speak once again. “I may not be the most experienced but believe me when I said I had experience with some military and agents.”

You hand Leon a business card, your full name was there as well as your phone number and the hospital you work in. Your name falls swiftly out of Leon’s lips as he reads the content on the cardstock.

“And senior citizens.” He flashes you a dazzling smile, he doesn’t seem to realize that it’s been a while since he last smiled so freely and so.. natural. It feels like the sun hitting on his skin after a cold day. A warmth he had long forgotten he could feel.

He knew it was soon. Too soon to even imagine being your friend. But as he puts the card in his pocket, he wishes that this could be the beginning of something more.

IV. RELAPSE & RESTART.

He almost falls once he opens up at the door that leads him to his apartment. Another gruesome mission to add to his mental diary and more scars that will adorn his already hurting body.

The same never-ending story, the same story being told once again. He doesn’t know when it will end.

If it even ends.

The last months have been all about his ‘recovery’. He was a patient man, he was sure of that. However, he doesn’t understand how doing mundane things would help him. He was taking baby steps and walking on eggshells, trying not to fall back into his old addictions.

Which were slowly creeping into his mind.

A call from Hunnigan was the last thing he expected a few days ago. He was surprised not to get any task earlier but that didn’t mean he wanted to go back to fight off bioweapons and kill walking undead who were once rational people, with dreams and wishes just like him.

But as much as he wanted to hang up and leave that world behind — knowing that the government wouldn’t give two shits about him and would walk through the same door he previously did and blow his brain — he accepted the mission.

In his own story, he’s a tragic character who can’t break the cursed loop he’s trapped in. The soft sounds of the rain no longer brought comfort to his aching heart, since those constant pitty-patter reminded him of the blood dripping from the people who were killed, by no one else but him.

He often thought he was going crazy, especially now as he walked towards the kitchen and stumbled on his own feet. Seeking something to grab on while he fights off the exhaustion. This last mission had taken a toll on him, both mentally and physically.

His fingers reach for the edge of the counter as he finally stays on his feet without the fear of falling onto the floor. His tired eyes close for a moment as he takes in his surroundings, his lonely apartment and his lonely life and his lonely self and his —.

He shakes his head, he wasn’t exactly in solitude. After that hurried meeting with you, he gained a new friend. He got to know you personally, something that he had missed for the longest time. To actually know someone deeper and not only their last names and occupations.

In exchange, he gave himself the chance to be more vulnerable. He couldn’t deny the attraction that he felt. But he was too afraid to fuck up the chance to have something meaningful with you. He told you about his years at the police academy, and he briefly shared his experience in Raccoon City, trying to be as vague as possible. In other words, he bared his soul to you.

But that didn’t mean everything was filled with butterflies and rainbows.

One night when you were treating one of his injuries (which he never treated in the past) he accidentally told you about his addictions and dark thoughts. Those which showed a persistent state of numbness and trauma. It was never his intention to worry you about those minor things, which he truly believed were not important.

But, as he recalls that night, he realizes that sadly, he can’t just end it all with a bullet through his brain. He has always thought about it, it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his messed up mind on those lonely nights when he wished someone would grant him a blink of sleep without having to dream about death and despair.

His eyes open as he once again walks through the kitchen, the moonlight provides a faint source of light that casts on his dark space of living. He remembers that you once told him he should get some lights, and he indeed bought them but he can’t just seem to find enough time to put them on.

His mind wanders through the moments he has spent with you. You always said the most soothing of things, when you wanted to. You advised him, told him how worthy he can be and how special he must be to others even though they don’t know it yet.

Another step.

He didn’t quite catch the meaning of those words. For him, he only brings despair wherever he goes. A demon of destruction and annihilation. If hell had a list of its next guests he believes his name would be on the top of that list. God wouldn’t want him in his paradise.

One more step.

Nonetheless, you weren’t a teddy bear who only chanted words of praise and fairy-tale stories. You called out his bullshit, especially when he dared to joke about going back to his old habits.

Stop.

“Would you like a glass of whiskey?” He would sarcastically ask you whenever you visited him at his apartment, knowing the kind of reaction he would get out of you. You had none of that, though. As soon as he uttered those words, the grip your hand had on his arm would get tighter to the point that Leon would beg you to stop it.

He knew you genuinely cared for him and he convinces himself that you’re wasting your time with someone like him. Someone already broken from the start. You were younger, with a life ahead of yourself, and a career to follow. And like the devil incarnate that he is, he is stopping you from that.

The story repeats itself, everything he touches turns into dust. He’s no longer a human but the shell of a man who once had dreams of becoming a cop. To become someone who would help innocent people. But instead, he’s killing those same poor souls in the name of the fucking government.

His fingers graze over the cabinet.

He despises his life, he hates everyone who forced him to follow this path. The resentment flows in his system as his hand grips the cabinet door even tighter; if he wasn’t so tired from his mission, he would have broken the tacky wooden furniture.

Why does it have to be this way?

Why does he have to continue witnessing the horrors of his life every day?

Why do the ghosts of people haunt him every day as he tries to close his eyes and relax?

Why has he become so desensitized to the bloodshed and yet as soon as he comes back to reality, it knocks the air out of his lungs?

And why is he already unscrewing the lid of his whiskey?

Time slows down for a moment as he gambles his choices. It's been months since he last took a sip from his so beloved whiskey. But at the same time, just one tiny drop would crumble all of his progress.

But why is progress so important if the product is going to be the same? Even if he gets better, his life won't. The only difference is that he may smile more during missions and act like everything is fucking alright even if it isn't.

But he isn't so lucky to fall deeper into his hell that easily. As soon as the cap falls onto the floor, the front door knob twists, announcing that someone is entering.

And who else has a key to his apartment?

The last person he wants to see right now.

The door creaks, antagonizing the imminent moment when you would see him at the scene of the crime with him being the culprit of his own homicide.

“Leon?” He hears you say as you step in, the darkness of the room allowing him a couple of seconds to hide the murder weapon – the bottle – and act clueless. But it seems that not even his nervous system is on his side. He just stands still.

“Sorry for being late. I had one hell of a shift back at–...” He sees your frame as you approach the kitchen. Your face falls momentarily, taking in the sight you were watching. Disheveled hair, bruises all around his face, and dark eyebags that gave the impression he hadn't slept for weeks.

Your eyes fall on the bottle in his hand. There was no cap which leads you to believe that he was drinking. Leon wanted to scream and tell you that you got it all wrong, but no words left his lips.

“Are you drinking?” Anger-filled, you take long strides before reaching for the bottle. Your eyes scan the content, seeing that it is half empty. Your accusatory gaze falls on Leon's.

“It's not what it looks like.” Worst phrase ever. He knows that he's telling you the truth, yet he couldn’t come up with anything worse than that.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide open as you keep staring at him with those eyes filled with… disappointment which it's worse than being screamed at. He wasn’t built for that. He was used to resentment looks, to punches and kicks. But disappointment came every time he had to tell families that their father wouldn’t make it that night because he died on a mission. It came each time he had to inform a mother that their beloved son succumbed to a virus.

The once rookie cop still lives within him. The one who hates disappointing people, the one who wants to save everyone. But especially the one who can’t do it alone.

“Then help me understand.” You place the bottle on the kitchen counter. Your stare doesn’t falter yet a hint of concern washes over your face. “Because all I see is you drinking after literally promising me that you’d never do it again.”

As a matter of fact, you didn’t actually see him drinking. He wanted to say that, but he knew it would bring even more anger to your already burning expression. However, as soon as that thought left his mind, another one came.

The sole fact that he didn’t drink, doesn’t spare him from any culpability. If it wasn’t for your intrusion, he’d be lying on the couch, wasted and intoxicated waiting to pass out.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. Leon isn’t dumb, he’s exhausted but he’s aware of how much you’re holding back. You would never scream at him, that’s obvious. But you didn’t want to bring even more self-hatred to him.

He had his own mental battles, ones you will never understand no matter how much he describes them to you. His anxiety was always bothering him, like an annoying bug buzzing in his ear. You knew how overwhelming everything was.

And you knew how recovery wasn’t an easy step to take, but it definitely takes so much maturity and perseverance, something that Leon surrounds himself in – even though he doesn’t see it. He’s a fighter, he’s a hero, he’s a lover. He keeps fighting and fighting even when he doesn’t see an end. But he mastered the art of moving forward.

So, he’s allowed to fall from time to time.

“Did you drink?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Were you planning on doing it?”

He’s silent for a moment, he’s afraid that his answer will mean more disappointment from you. That you will get to see how pathetic he really was.

“Yes.” He eventually confesses.

You absentmindedly nod, letting out a long sigh.

“Another mission?”

“...yes.”

You didn’t ask for the details, knowing – to an extent – about Leon’s job, you knew it must have been so impactful in order to almost throw him back to his old friend, alcohol. And you knew Leon was like a sponge, he absorbs everything he experiences and never tells anyone. You thank God that he accidentally told you about his addiction, now you can at least protect him.

“It was…” Leon continues speaking, his fingers scratching a spot on the kitchen counter. His eyes don’t meet yours, as if he’s trying his best to make the words come out of himself. “It was really bad this time.”

He lets out a dry chuckle that sounds more like an attempt to water down the situation. One thing about him is that he doesn’t cry. He wouldn’t let someone see that side of him. He’s rigid, he’s stoic, he’s unemotional. He’s a DSO agent, born to serve his country and die for it.

But right now he wants to be a child again.

He wants to be that same infant who would fall on purpose just to get kisses from his mother. He wants to be that same innocent child who could come back running to his mom’s arms when the world was too scary.

He wants to stop the world for a second and cry at the top of his lungs, he wants to punch a wall until his knuckles bleed, he wants to be held, he wants to be told everything will be okay even if it will never be okay.

His thoughts drift to when he was younger – to when he could imagine himself being a better person. If he could speak with himself, what would he say? The image of a tiny him crosses his mind, a young Leon playing all by himself with tiny police cars.

Within him, there’s a rookie cop begging for help amidst the gruesome scenario he had to face back in 1998. Beneath all the layers of self-hatred and resentment, hidden in that dead gaze.

He shakes his head, in a poor effort of swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. An imminent sign that his emotions will fall like a waterfall, reminding him of his own weaknesses. His curtain of hair falls onto his eyes, blurring his vision.

Or was it his tears? He no longer knows.

He deserves an award for how hard he’s trying to stop the inevitable. His fingers shake, his breath gets heavier and his heart aches. But he couldn’t bear it for much longer, especially knowing that at least, he had someone to go to when his mind was too much for him.

So, he allows himself to feel human again.

“It was horrible…” He finally breaks down. He silently lets the tears fall from his eyes as he sobs. The thought of every mission is on his mind as the constant spams of his sobs control his body.

He feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs, the uncontrollable way that he chokes on his sobs makes his throat constricted.

He lowers his head, he doesn’t want you to see how weak he has become. A tough agent simply doesn’t cry. An agent bites, chews, swallows, and shuts up.

Silence sets in the kitchen, occasionally broken by Leon’s tears and choked breaths. His fingers itched to grab something, to hold onto something. To feel that he wasn’t alone, that he was indeed not all by himself in this messed up world.

You slowly reach for him. Baby steps, for someone who was touched starved, even if he was unaware of that fact. For someone that’d jump whenever he feels touched, because his mind can’t let go of the fear of being bitten, of being killed.

You quietly made your way to Leon’s hand, your fingers ever so grazing it. Feather touches brushes against the back of his hand, making sure to notice if he shows any signs of discomfort. There were none.

However, you surely notice that his sobs have stopped for the time being. He’s still sniffing though. As if on cue, his glassy eyes lock on yours, before you fully intertwine your fingers with his.

You didn’t hug him immediately, you didn’t throw your arms around his neck at the very right moment when he started crying, and you especially didn’t give him a shoulder pat as if saying “Don’t cry.” He appreciates the fact that you took it slow, you gave him a warning and proceeded further when he allowed you to.

Loving takes time, and loving Leon would surely take longer than anything you have experienced. You have treated many patients, you know that the injuries in a body heal fairly quickly. Now, the wounds in a soul that was doomed from the start are not something that easy to mend.

After a while of your fingers being intertwined and sweat covering the palm of your hands, you feel the faintest squeeze, coming from Leon’s side. You look at him and see a tiny smile formed on his lips with some dry tears adorning his face.

You say nothing, scared to break the atmosphere of tranquility that had formed after Leon stopped crying. It took some seconds for Leon to muster up the courage to go further, intimacy and platonic touches were already something he was unfamiliar with. Now, he had to add romantic feelings to that list.

If he had met you when he was younger, he’d have surely asked you out. Take you on a nice little date and steal a kiss or two. But now, he was trapped in the course of the years, older and supposedly wiser. However, you were the one who was being strong – for him. Not the other way around.

But, as much as he wants to pity himself and wonder about those what-ifs, he has a friend now. He would take care of that heart of his in the future. For now, he wants to embrace the one friendship he hasn’t tainted yet.

The one person who still hasn’t seen the horrors that this world has to offer.

He untangles his fingers from yours and looking at your eyes one last time, he brings your hand to his cheek. The palm of your hand bringing some warmth to his skin.

With his eyes closed now, you see an expression you haven’t seen before. A peaceful one, as if he was sleeping without his usual nightmares. It was comforting, in a sense, knowing that you have brought a moment of serenity to his tumultuous life.

You were surprised at first, not expecting Leon to show that display of affection. However, part of you understands that he was seeking comfort. It’s been a while since he last felt safe with someone, someone who he could cry with, someone who wouldn’t judge him.

Your thumb grazes over his stubbled cheek, wiping away any proof that he has been crying.

“Thank you…” His voice is barely a whisper, you almost didn’t hear him singing his gratitude.

You want to say “You’re welcome” or “It’s okay” but none of those phrases convey what you really wish to show. Saying the first one would dismiss all of your previous actions as a simple attempt to comfort him. And the latter was a lie, it’s not okay, even if you wanted to believe it yourself.

“I got you.” You stick with that one. It wasn’t a lie but a promise you plan on fulfilling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” He asks, opening his eyes. His tone is a hopeful one.

“I do.” You reassure him.

With your free hand – the one that wasn’t on Leon’s cheek – you reach for the bottle of whiskey that was long forgotten after their little situation.

“But before that, we need to get rid of this.” You show it to Leon before he chuckles. “We’re now only drinking apple juice.”

He didn’t miss the use of we instead of you. Maybe he’s reading between the lines, but he hopes that you’re by his side now that he wants to leave his addiction for sure. He wants you to see how much he can achieve if he sets his mind on it.

“Apple juice it is.”

V. ABSOLUTION.

The nakedness of his body didn't override the vulnerability he showed once he let you in his life, mind, and soul. But as you help him wash his back, he can’t help but reminisce about that first night when he first saw himself in the mirror.

He remembers being insecure about showing his scars to someone, scared that the other person would be disgusted by the sight of it.

However, you weren’t repulsed, far from that. In your mind, Leon’s skin served as a canvas and each bruise and scar were strokes of a paintbrush. In this case, they showed Leon’s hard life and non-achievable freedom. They showed how much Leon had endured and how many fights he had won.

Therefore, they were proof that Leon was a lover of life. He loved everyone else’s lives that he would sacrifice his in order to protect the world.

Leon sometimes drops hints about his job. He didn’t directly tell you about the government and its fucked up methods, but you collected the clues and formed your own puzzle.

He was forced to join.

It was strange, in a way. To know that a gentle soul like him had to face the hostility of a country, of a government that could easily threaten someone into joining the force. However, you weren’t clueless about its power.

Eventually, after those hints, other hints came along the way.

Leon was sweet, funny, and a gentleman. Your dynamic as a nurse and patient was long forgotten even though you still tend to some of his wounds. And your friendship shifted into something more, especially after the whiskey situation months ago.

However, even though his qualities overshadow his flaws, there’s something he can’t hide.

He’s too awkward for his own good.

Ever since the alcohol incident, Leon would always try to be smooth and compliment you over the simplest things. “Have you done something different to your hair? No, you didn’t? Oh… Well, it looks good” He would often facepalm himself because he couldn’t flirt even if his life depended on it.

Eventually, after those not-so-discrete hints, he took matters into his own hands. He often faked minor injuries. “You don’t understand, my eye literally hurts” and he would have access to admire every tiny detail your face had to offer. From your moles to the way your eyebrows furrowed trying to concentrate.

And that led to feathery touches. In the name of friendship, of course.

After one dinner – that Leon so gratefully prepared – you would often find yourself sitting on the couch, shoulders pressed to one another as you played with his rough hands. You would ask him where he got that scar, how he got this one right here, wow it looks really deep.

And he let you because he did the same. Because those angel-like touches soon turned into endlessly staring sessions where silence was more inviting than any word could be. You gazed into each other’s eyes for only God knows how long. Expecting that the other one would break the intimate moment but none of them had the heart to do so.

It would be an understatement to say that Leon felt so safe with you. Over the months, Leon had gotten to know what a home felt like. His apartment remained the same, physically and aesthetically speaking. But the way it immediately lightens up when you arrive – yeah, Leon could finally call it home.

That’s why, it was so easy for Leon to let those words slip out of his mouth one night when you were leaving.

“You feel like home.”

And for a moment, you let those words sink into you. You thought you were merely an acquaintance, a simple friend at most. But no – there he was, Leon Kennedy, US government agent, telling you that you’re his home.

Meanwhile, the silence at that moment made Leon go insane. He thought he fucked it up, you would surely run away now. Who the fuck says that someone is their home? Shit shit shit—

“You’re my home too.”

And that was everything he needed to hear to stop all of his dark thoughts from appearing once again. The darkness that embraced both of them set the perfect scenario to indulge in this crucial moment. A late confession, but a real one.

As he gazes into your eyes, he can’t help but wonder if this tiny fragment of happiness would go away like everything else had in his life. You’re too precious, too important to die, to vanish from his life and never come back.

And your hand reached for his cheek, your thumb caressing the same scar you noticed when you first met him, he couldn’t help but ask God to grant him one more chance in life. He promises — in a fragment of seconds — to be a better human, to be a better citizen but please, don’t take away this last string of hope he’s holding to.

And he felt that God had finally responded to his prayers when he saw how you leaned closer, letting your lips find his in a gentle but so meaningful and awaited kiss. He hesitantly parted his lips, scared that this may be a dream. But of course, he doesn’t dream so that had to be the reality. The sorrow, the anxiety, the longing, and the expectations — all of those were long forgotten as he mentally thanked destiny for this.

“Earth to Leon” You giggle behind him as you rub a sponge all over his back. You were careful not to be so rough on his already aching back. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Of course, he found himself daydreaming.

From that night, his relationship with you skyrocketed. And his home became your home too.

He doesn’t know when it happened, but he found himself getting even more comfortable with you. He didn’t even need to ask himself — letting you see him naked as both of you wash each other’s bodies? Yeah, it was definitely love.

And he loves being in love.

“I just spaced out for a bit.” He responds with a yawn, the silence that surrounded both of you was inviting to just sleep throughout the night. Funnily enough, you only just sleep. Leon was grateful the first nights since he was getting used to the fact that someone else was sleeping on his bed.

But now he was growing a bit impatient.

Especially with your lingering touches.

As you let the water wash away all the soap, your lips soon find his back, pressing soft kisses on each scar that adorned his skin. “It’s okay…” a kiss on a tiny scar. “Are you going to take your sleeping pills tonight?” Another kiss on a scar that was near his shoulder.

Right… he was put on medication. He often takes sleeping pills when his eyes won’t shut down even if drowsiness is engulfing him. But lately, sleep has become easier, and his nightmares have decreased.

He’d like to think that after you started sleeping next to him, his mind started to feel at peace. But that was something unreal, nobody could fix someone.

But he had to be honest, you surely helped him a lot.

“Not tonight.”

He feels you nodding as your chin lays on his shoulder blade. It’s in moments like these where he thinks that life doesn’t sound so bad. As he zones out and lets you do all the job, he realizes that maybe it’s okay to keep on living.

He’s a big teddy bear, to say the least. The DSO agent who once swore duty to his country was pushed aside when he was with you. Why would he need to keep up his facade when home meant security, therefore you are what makes him safe. So, as you help him out of the shower, drying him off with a towel he lets you take the reins, his body on autopilot mode.

His strong arms wrap around your frame, perfectly molding and fitting like puzzle pieces. It feels like the flow of water, gently swaying your bodies until they reach their destination, their little nest away from everything outside.

He takes pride in serving, providing, and protecting. It was deeply imprinted in him, right in his bone marrow. The blood that runs through his veins pushes him to never stop, to continue working for others.

However, as you help him sit down on the bed his mind shuts down for a moment. He allows himself to take this moment of peace and drown himself in it. Be a little selfish, if he can. The tranquility of a domestic setting was still so foreign to him yet he doesn’t understand how he could’ve lived without feeling this for so long.

The towel around his midsection hugs him just right to prevent the material from falling. His hair is still a little wet, and so is yours. You use the extra towel to help him dry off.

He very much enjoys the lazy touches you share at nights like these. It was a nice reminder that the darkness of the imminent dusk will not bring more nightmares, but peaceful dreams. The ghost of his past was getting tired of haunting him, it seems.

You’re still pretty careful with him, as if you were handling fine ceramic which in a sense, he was. He was shattered porcelain, glued back together with utter care. You both were artists, who completed with great skill this piece of art called life.

And now, your lips are acting like a brush, as they touch Leon’s skin. Kisses are planted along his jaw and he lets out a sigh from the feeling of being treated with so much devotion. If he could serve as a blank canvas, he was ready to rewrite his story with you.

Or maybe not rewrite, his past made him a person as much as it hurts. His grief, his pain, and his previous solitude built up the man that he is now. So, he will add another page to his life story. He will paint another landscape where the sun rises and casts its lights on the world.

He looks at you and sees nothing but raw love and a hint of desire hidden behind those orbs. He notices, then, that just like him you are indeed eager to please him in the other sense of the word. It was embarrassing to realize that he shouldn’t have kept quiet about his needs when you had already proved to him that it was okay to speak, to think, to feel.

It’s been a while since he last let himself be this physically vulnerable. Sure he wasn’t an inexpert in the area but it has never been this intimate. Hearts never bonded and names weren’t remembered. Never has someone truly cared about his welfare before. To put it a name, he’d have called it a trade. He let off some steam and the other part got what they wanted. No strings attached and surely no feelings hurt.

However, it would be a lie if he told himself he didn’t crave to actually make love to someone. To feel someone’s body brushed against his in a sweet and gentle motion. To let himself and his soul be kissed with so much love that it would make him cringe.

You stop your waterfall of kisses for a while, letting the silence linger for a few seconds as you grab his hand. Slowly, you interlace your fingers with him, a well-known display of affection from you. Your signature, you may even say.

“Hey…” His eyes search yours, and he sees how you’re looking for approval, for his consent. He once heard eyes are the mirror of someone’s soul and the world suddenly feels so small as he remembers that he met those same eyes months ago, unaware of the effect you’d have on him.

“Hey.” You repeated, for the second time this night, his mind decided to wander again. “Is it okay if…” you trail off, not because of embarrassment or sudden shyness, not at all. But he can deduce that you wanted him to finish your sentence.

I’ve been dying to touch you. I’ve been craving you touching me, he wanted to say. However, his sense of decency stops him from uttering that rather needy phrase. In a way, he can infer that you already know about his lustful desires. It was a matter of time before both of you indulged in those carnally and normal needs.

Nonetheless, he is oblivious that you won’t let this night be like any other. No, you wouldn’t try anything too crazy — not yet — But after months of knowing him deeper and rawer, you know he’s tired. Exhausted from his life, exhausted from his job, and overall drained. He deserves to be treated right and you’ve been excelling in that task.

But, you’ll show him that he can be as greedy as he wants to be.

“You can trust me.” You say in a hushed tone as if you were whispering a secret to him. Your hand slowly descends until it reaches where the towel meets his waist.

“I do trust you.” He responds with a determined tone amidst the suggestive move of your hand. “I feel like I won the lottery with you.”

“Is that so?” You laugh, resuming your kisses around his stubbled cheek. Although this time, they carry some neediness in them.

“Positive.” He lets out a shaky breath as your finger ever so grazes over where the towel is tucked in. “Because you saw good in me when I had nothing to offer, you—”

“Stop.” Your voice remains soft even though your command doesn’t falter. ”None of those self-loathing words right now.”

He’s speechless for a moment before he slowly nods and lets your hand go lower. Leon feels his blood going south just from a few words.

But then again, loving you was really easy. So it was no surprise that he found himself already leaking at the anticipation of your imminent touch.

“Let me make you feel better.” You whisper, allowing your hand to undo the towel that was previously wrapped around him. In a swift movement, it falls on the floor exposing his already hard length.

You glance at Leon one last time and observe his reaction. There was no sight of changes of mind or hesitation, so you free his and your desire.

You connect your lips against his neck, and with gentle sucks, you prepare him for what’s about to come. Your wish —besides touching him— is bringing comfort in such an intimate act like this. He has trusted you with his soul and body before, that’s correct. But right now, you can feel the level of loyalty and therefore love he’s showing you.

Your hand reaches for his dick, you thumb the slit of his tip collecting the precum that has already formed there, using it as a lubricant.

Your fingers circle around his cock and, slowly, you start stroking him. You don’t want him to cum just yet, the feeling of being treated like this was something you want him to drown in. So, you keep up the steady pace.

You disconnect your lips from his neck and focus your eyes on your ministration on his cock. The lewd sounds combined with the faint whimpers coming out from his lips were almost like background music that you are starting to love.

He takes the opportunity of you pulling away from his neck to hide his face in the crook of yours. His breath tickles your skin as he continues letting out the most pretty sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck…” He hisses as his word gets lost between the shlick sounds of your hand jerking him off. His nose brushes against the side of your neck as his cries fill your ears. You can hear him whispering your name from time to time, as well as some other curses of his own.

However, his tiny cries of pleasure soon turned into real sobs.

No, he wasn’t sad but Christ, it was the first time actually took their time to focus on his pleasure and his well being. He always thought that love was never meant for him, that the simple act of falling in love would be impossible and unachievable. The thought of having his life attached to someone else used to send shivers down his spine.

Now, his world is no longer black and white, your mere existence brought color to his life.

Your hand stops for a minute, worried that you may have done something wrong. That leads Leon to pull away from your neck as some tears roll down his face.

“Sorry… I — just continue please…” The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed as he went back to nuzzle against your neck. And even if he was dazed out at this very moment, you will remember to talk about this again at another time.

“It’s okay, let it all go.” You reassure him as you resume your previous motions. It doesn’t take long before your hand sends him over the edge and close to his own climax.

You pump him, your thumb grazing over the head of his dick from time to time. He absentmindedly thrust his hips up into your hand, seeking his near release. For him, you were granting him a visit to Heaven itself. Just the mere touch of your hand had him seeing angels and cherubims. How would it feel to be deep inside of you?

His lips are red from biting them, attempting to muffle his moans. His brain is a mess, with thoughts of you and only in there and his cock is throbbing as it chases his own high. Overall, Leon was putty in your hands.

And by the way, his hips are starting to miss their rhythm, you know that it was a matter of seconds before Leon came undone in your hand.

“You’ve been so good for me…” You coo, still jerking him off with a slightly faster pace now. “You deserve to cum, don’t you?” You were always good with words but Jesus, he didn’t expect you would literally talk him through it.

As you whisper those praise words, he can’t stop his hips from rutting and bucking into your hand. “Yeah…— fuck — I’ve been so good. Please, let me cum.”

The image of a tough agent begging for release will surely imprint in your mind for a while.

“Of course.” Your lips tug into a smile as you pick up the pace. It was a sight to behold, seeing Leon coming undone in your hands with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and a dazed out expression that brought butterflies to your tummy.

Eventually, your hands slow down as Leon writhes under your touch. He lets out a loud muffled whimper as white thick ropes of cum spill onto his stomach and of course, your hand.

He stays still for a while, letting his body rest for a second. He plants lazy kisses on your neck as a way of saying “Thank you” since words couldn’t really translate what he was feeling right.

“Shit—” After a while, Leon curses as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. His expression is one of exhaustion but his lazy smile tells you he was brimming with happiness. He reaches for his towel that was previously thrown off and cleans your hand.

“Are you ok?” You ask as Leon wipes your hand, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the considerate action.

“Yeah but…” He trails off as he cleans his abdomen too. You can already predict what was going on in that head of his. “What about you?”

“I’m okay Leon.” You sigh as you bring your now clean hand to his cheek. “Your pleasure is mine. Besides, you’re exhausted.”

But as much as your statement was true, you can’t deny the desire that was dripping between your thighs. Between the intimacy of your act and having Leon so vulnerable in your hands, your system knows what it wants.

“I am.” He doesn’t deny the fact that your ministrations sucked the life out of him. But he can keep going. For the first time in his life, he is grateful for his stamina as an agent. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Before you could even protest, Leon was already kissing your neck. The scent of your body wash filling his nostrils as his lips get hungrier and needier for the taste of your skin. And as you attempt to once again speak, he muffles your words with his mouth on yours.

You feel your reasoning go weak as well as your limbs. It took a few kisses for you to comply and let yourself be laid on the bed, strong but gentle hands holding you close even when you fell on the soft mattress.

He’s above you for a second as he admires the view. Your towel, unlike his, was still wrapped around your body. You wriggle your way to where the pillows of the bed are and you wait for him there.

He wastes no time to join you, carefully lying next to you rather than above you. You catch a glimpse of what he’s trying to do. One of his calloused hands reaches your waist and softly motions you to roll over your side.

You roll over and you’re met with your reflection on the mirror that was next to your bed. Funnily enough, it was perfectly placed so it showed both of your bodies. Somewhere deep in your mind, you wonder if Leon set up the mirror there for this right purpose.

But then again, Leon was spontaneous, behind all of his layers of grumpiness and sadness that once used to surround him, you knew his sappy, corny, and cheesy side that was hidden. And now, you get to notice his quirks every single day.

He grips your hips as he lays sideways too, slightly spooning you. “You no longer need this…” He murmurs as he takes off your towel, the sight of your bare body in the mirror has his mouth watering. Acting like a damn dog wasn’t on the list of things he’s proud of.

As he discards the fabric that covered your body, you feel his once again hard cock. But this time, it was painfully close to your core that you could already feel every vein brushing against your walls.

“May I?” He knows your answer, he’s just asking for the sake of it. To hear your voice dripping with lust and neediness. To hear you hum that yes in your sweet tone as always.

“Please…” Your whisper was enough to make his cock twitch. What is with you and your voice that melts Leon whenever he hears you? You’re both his salvation and weakness. He can’t function without you.

He has always wanted to leave a mark in this world. That he had indeed existed for something else than death and destruction. That he was more than Leon Kennedy, the US’ best weapon. He wanted to show the world that he, Leon — just Leon — was more than his messed-up destiny.

He loves, he desires, he laughs and he yearns for connection. And right now, his body’s aching to feel you around him.

He snuggles closer and wraps a tight arm around your waist, hugging your abdomen just right. Instinctively, you arch your back, letting your rear brush against Leon’s dick making hiss from the friction.

For a moment, he stops hugging you. You almost whined for the loss of closeness when you feel Leon guiding his dick which easily slides through your wet folds. The tip of it bumps against your clit sending electricity all over your body.

He’s savoring this moment. Sadly, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer once he starts. But, at least, he knows that this won’t be the last time since he finally allowed himself to be selfish, to wish happiness for himself.

Happiness has a name and is both yours and Leon’s.

At last, he pushed into you, just the tip for now. Admiring your face in the mirror, he whispers sweet nothings against your ear. Rambles about how perfect you look and feel right, how lucky he is, and so on.

“Look at you…” Leon points at the mirror and you open your eyes which are glassy from all the pent-up desire you’ve been holding back. At any other moment given, you’d have been quite self-conscious about the exposure of your naked body. But Leon — as you once did with him — is eager to show you that you’re indeed a sight for sore eyes.

“Look how perfect you look being mine.” Even though his words could sound possessive to anyone else, you know his voice brings out affection and tenderness. There are a few things Leon could call them his. And most of them are mundane items that don’t exactly bring comfort to him.

But to call you his was something that he has always looked for. To show you off, buy you everything you’ve always desired, and tell the world that he had finally found his home. His one and only.

As he finishes his statement with a kiss on your cheek, he eases himself into you. He pushes all of his length as he hushes you once you hiss from the stretch.

“Shhh there you go…” He once again wraps his arm around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhales the scent he has grown to love. The same that has been lulling him to sleep ever since you decided to move in with him.

He stays still for a few seconds, the feeling of filling you up could make him cum right on the spot but he stops himself. He distracts from your pulsating walls by kissing your neck and sucking on the skin which will clearly turn a soft purple color the next morning.

The pain soon turned into comfort and therefore it resulted in pleasure. As he hears you saying a soft “You can move” he slowly pulls out before thrusting into you with the same pace and force. He feels your walls clamping down his cock as he continues his motions.

He slides in and out with lazy thrusts, his and your eyes are closed as heavy breaths and drowsy moans leave your lips. You were correct, he was exhausted from his previous high. But the way you drowsily made love was making this whole thing even more perfect.

“Taking me so well.” He murmurs against your skin, his breath tickling your neck as he grips your waist even tighter than before, as if he is scared that once he opens his eyes you won’t be there. “Sucking me in, like you know I belong here.”

His hand goes to your chest, where he plays with one of your nipples. His fingers pinching the sensitive spot as his hips continue lazily bucking into yours already feeling like his mind was all over the place.

You feel a heat forming on your belly as Leon continues whispering words you can’t quite register now. Too drunk in desire and too cock drunk to even care. “Fuck I love you so much…”

“I love you too.” You can’t really say anything else, everything would be sentences with no coherent meaning or sense. So you stick with your favorite phrase, you could sing every day that you love Leon, and he would do the same. Because the word love was once so far away from him.

It was poetic to see that Leon could feel his second climax of the night near as he heard you say that you love him. The back and forth of his hips slightly increase their speed but it remains true to the lazy nature of the act right now, though.

“I’m close.” Leon stutters as he says those words. “Can I come inside you? Please tell me I can.” There is some desperation in his voice, an aching and burning desire to paint your insides.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, you can.” You manage to say before Leon lets out countless thanks you. Your body starts writhing under his grasp as your fingers start digging into Leon’s arms, leaving an imprint of your nails on his skin.

“Cum on me. Go ahead, do it for me.” He coos, coaxing more sweet whimpers out of you. “Let me fill you up.”

You let out a muffled whimper as you came undone. He could feel your cunt gripping him as you reach your desired orgasm. Eventually, Leon’s hips which were previously rocking into your and slapping against his skin are now slowing down.

The wet noises sound so filthy yet Leon is having a blast right now. He could imagine himself getting to experience this every night with you by his side. Who could have thought that selfishness could be so rewarding?

With a low grunt, he cums inside of you as he promised. Letting his load fill your insides. He couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that formed on his lips. What a view.

He remains inside of you for a bit longer than needed. You can’t judge him, especially with the way he nuzzles into your neck letting out a yawn. Poor him was worn out. After his first climax, he had already felt that he touched the sky, and now he was in heaven.

After pulling out, he rested his cheek on your shoulder. Part of him wanted to feel you again yet he couldn’t even move an inch. However, it fulfilled him to know that you were going to be right next to him tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and for as long as you allow it.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

“We have to change those thank you into I love you.”

Leon was the sweetest guy. However, those thanks still came from a place of skepticism.

“Sorry…”

He sheepishly said before drifting off to sleep. And, as usual, no nightmare is waiting for him to haunt his dreams.

VI. SERENITY

Attempting to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning should be a crime. However, your drowsy state didn’t stop you from reaching the now empty space next to you. The bed still provided you with the scent of the person you loved the most yet he wasn’t there.

With a groan, you decide to get up from the bed. Your feet meet the cold tiles before you curse from the sudden pain you feel as you step on the remote. You have told Leon countless times that he shouldn’t sleep when he’s watching TV, yet the only response you get is “I’m just resting my eyes.” Therefore, that causes Leon to fall asleep with the remote on his chest which obviously falls throughout the night.

After a while of inhaling and exhaling deeply from the pain, you make your way out of the room. The scenario that greets you is the same as other days just that Leon was missing in the picture.

Your steps are slow as sleep is still running in your system, a yawn escapes you while you walk towards the kitchen counter. A note is waiting for you and you deduce it’s from Leon.

“I just went to run some errands, I’ll come back as soon as possible. Love you so so much.”

His name was written at the bottom of the page next to a happy face that he had drawn. Silly, you thought.

You see that Leon had already prepared you a sandwich before he left. It was cold to the touch, so that means Leon has been gone for a while. He may come any time now.

Life with him was… surely an adventure. He still goes on missions, leaving you to your own devices for days or even weeks. But they no longer haunt his mind like before. He still needs to be treated with utter care after one, though. Bruises and scars are not the only effects his journeys have on him.

When he returns from a mission, the once dull and boring apartment welcomes him yet this time, it is full of colors and memories you have made with him. However, it’s not enough for him to completely drop his facade of a tough agent ready to end someone’s life. As you treat his wound, every tiny sound has him jumping on his seat.

You can’t blame him, it takes a while before he can return to his usual self and be embraced by your warm body that will waste no time to hug him tight. Reminding that he was finally home.

Eventually, after settling down and returning to reality, his personality will shine again. If someone asked you to describe Leon in one word it would be impossible. The man that you chose to spend life with was everything all at once. He was definitely clingy, to begin with. Excuses were his everyday words as he tried to explain why it was completely alright for him to follow you everywhere you went.

At this point, it felt like you had adopted a puppy instead of having a boyfriend. “What’ chu doing?” He would often say as he peeked around the edge of the door frame and watched you from afar If he had a tail it’d be wagging so fast. The tough agent no longer existed in your presence, instead, a man who melted as soon as you hugged him took his place.

Loving, in his language, meant going overboard just for you. If he had to get on his knees and beg for a tiny kiss he’d do it. He’s grown needy to those sweet gestures only you could provide. But he didn’t need to win them. Loving, in your language, meant offering your heart on a platter for him.

God does he love you. You have the man whispering funny names in your ears as you wake up. You unlocked a part of him that he had long forgotten he had, he used to joke when he was nervous — freaking out because he thought he might die on a mission. But now, he invented a plethora of new pet names just to bother you and see you rolling your eyes laughing.

He’s gone through so much, he’s seen so much. Tranquility was the last thing he thought he would be surrounded with. Ever since he was forced to join the military, he made up his mind on the fact that his life would never be the same, Racoon City was his starting point and only his death would stop him from suffering.

Now, as you finally hear the door unlocking you admire how his figure appears. You squint your eyes as you try to pinpoint what’s different in him.

“Hey, you.” Leon walks towards you, closing the gap between you two as he hugs you.

“Hey, you too.” You return the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Missed me?”

“Not much.” You punch his side, not strong enough to make him jump but rather tell him that you were joking. “Now… On what adventures did you go without me?”

“I just paid a visit to Adelaide.”

Adelaide, you haven’t forgotten about the old lady that you treated. However, you didn’t expect Leon to remain loyal to his service. And now that he mentions it, you realize what he has done to himself.

His hair has turned lighter. Blonder.

“Did you bleach your hair?” You can’t help but laugh at the thought, he had poor Adelaide working so early on a Saturday morning. But then again, you remember that both of them are workaholics, even though their jobs couldn’t be any more different.

“No, you’re going blind.”

God, he was so dumb.

Eternity used to sound like a cruel fate before. Stuck in a loop that he couldn’t escape from. But now, he will always look for you even in the tiniest details. He’d look for you in the darkness as two flicks of light trying to reach each other. In the universe, as two particles of stardust waiting to create something even bigger — a world for themselves, and a world to live on.

Because, after all, you reached for him when he had nothing more to offer than his rotten self. You loved him when he couldn’t even love himself.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #resident evil

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messylustt · 9 months

Text

A HUG? / AND KISSES? — miguel o’hara + reader: you finally confront jessy, showing him just how much he means to you (nothing). miguel wants to give you time, but he just can’t hold back.

marks break up. mentions of cheating. kinda possessive!miguel?? making out. wc 3.6k.

pt one. pt two. pt three.

you ran your thumbs over your palms, trying to smooth out the sweat that had begun to gather. you shouldn’t feel this nervous, you weren’t the one in the wrong. but you just can’t help feeling that dread at the prospect of confronting jessy. he had cheated. you have every right. but, no matter how many times you reminded yourself of this your lips only pressed harder together.

you watched as jessy walked out of a portal, smiling and laughing with the other spider variants. he has always been a very social person. center of attention type of guy. and at first that was what you were attracted to. you had loved him introducing you to his friends and bringing you along to ‘catch up’s’. but now you feel more so like a show pony. brought out because people always said ‘oh, she’s so sweet’.

you had begun to feel disgusted. and now miguel’s words have kept you up at night. ‘break up with him’ ‘more prominent’. what the hell had he meant by that? suddenly jessy’s arm moves to loop around your neck making your body jolt. “hey, babe.” he murmurs far too close to your ear that you have to actually hold back from grimacing. you paste on a smile, your words not quite prepared yet. “hey, jessy.”

he doesn’t notice your reluctance to his touch, he doesn’t notice the way your voice betrays your true feelings. but he does. your gaze unintentionally flickers over to where you knew miguel would be debriefing a group. the moment you do you can feel your breathing hitch. miguel is stood, eyes fixated on you. even as he speaks, his gaze doesn’t waver. only once to glare at jessy’s arm. you swiftly look away, focusing on jessy as you realise that he had said something, his gaze expectant.

“sorry, what was that?” you ask. and now finally does jessy notice that somethings off. but you aren’t ready. you don’t want him to ask ‘are you okay?’ or ‘what’s wrong’, because then that would mean you’d have to blurt out the whole speech you had prepared, one that your worried mind is slowly forgetting. jessy brushes your hair away, tucking it behind your ear before he says. “i’m busy tonight. thought i’d just let you know in case you wanted me all to yourself.” his tone is overly cocky, almost faking the joke he slipped in there. how had you ever fallen in love him?

your smile widens as you chuckle. god, you hope that he didn’t catch the forcefulness practically dripping off. “no worries. can i ask why?” you look up at him, your smile overly sweet as you hold back from asking the questions you really wanted to know. how many times? and for how long? inside, your smile is turning sour, as you wait. jessy scratches the back of his head, darting his gaze around. “just hanging out my friends. you know, guys night.”

“oh.” you nod, pretending to understand. ‘the guys’ equals her. “well, have fun, then.” jessy nods, giving you a once over, before he pulls you in, leaning in for a kiss he expects you to reciprocate. “i’m busy too.” you quickly say, making him pause. you catch the confusion in his eyes. because you had never been busy when it hadn’t included him. “oh? what are you doing?” jessy now forces a smile.

you step back, and his gaze darkens a fraction. these details you are just now noticing. and you realise that miguel’s words may have maybe effected you a little more than you had initially thought. your gaze again flickers over to miguel. the spider group had dispersed, and miguel is stood, talking to jess. but again the moment you look over, his gaze shifts to you. you stand there, staring back, forgetting that jessy was waiting for an answer, and instead remembering the way miguel’s arms felt wrapped arou—

you snap your gaze back to jessy, who is eyeing you with very clear confusion and something else that has his gaze shifting to where you were looking. but you speak before he can spot miguel. “yeah, i’m catching up with a friend.” jessy looks back, brows furrowing. “what friend?”

you fake a gasp, trying to be less obvious in your shift of attitude towards him. “you make it sound like i have no friends, jessy.” you say. jessy pauses but then cracks a smile to your relief. “i didn’t say it outright. your words, not mine.” you reach over and hit his shoulder. “rude.” you mutter. but you can feel jessy’s suspicious gaze now gone all together, until jess and miguel decide to walk over and pay you a visit. make sure your schedule is free for the day tomorrow. we’re expecting to have quite a few anomalies pop up.” jess informs, to which you nod. “of course.”

you don’t let your gaze shift to miguel once. and of course he takes notice. miguel eyes you openly, watching the way you keep your gaze on jess as if he’s not even here. miguel tilts his head, letting his eyes drop down your figure. yes, he’s gotten bolder with his glances, now not worried if people saw. in fact he wanted people to see. namely a certain boyfriend he’s waiting to turn ‘ex’. you hadn’t broken it off yet. and miguel’s patience was wearing thin. he would never tell you this, because his own emotions are too confusing to actually articulate. but that doesn’t stop him from lying awake, holding back from just sending jessy off on a mission that many don’t come back from.

extreme. he’s reached a level of extreme. and the more you put it off, the more miguel’s emotions are becoming visible. whatever those emotions exactly are. “…oh is that what you’re doing? work stuff?” miguel zones into jessy’s words, finally lifting his gaze from your body. jess had walked off between the time spent, leaving just the three of you. jessy is looking at you, all smug as he crosses his arms. “aw, you don’t have to be embarrassed, babe. you could have just said that instead making up how you’re hanging with a friend.”

the moment those words leave jessy’s lips miguel’s jaw clenches. his gaze drills holes into jessy, now actually considering killing him himself. at least then he’d know that the job is done. miguel can see the way your expression cracks. your smile faltering only slightly. and the sight makes miguel’s claws scrap hard against his palms. “i didn’t lie.” you say, trying your best to keep that pretty smile present. and that’s when miguel catches on, reading between the lines and what most likely happened during that conversation you two had had before.

“baaabe, it’s fine.” jessy coos, and miguel wants to rip his tongue out. “she’s not lying.” he says before he can stop himself, or even consider. you shift your gaze to miguel, brows furrowing a moment. jessy shifts his gaze also. “and how would you know?” jessy chuckles, but miguel’s gaze stays cold. “because she’s with me tonight.” the moment those words leave miguel’s lips, jessy’s smug expression falters. the rush miguel got from seeing jessy crack made the smallest of smiles edge his lips.

“what?” jessy tries his best to keep that nonchalant behaviour present, but anyone can tell that he’s losing it, and fast. you stare at miguel, eyes expanded a fraction as you question him indirectly. miguel looks to you. “yeah.” miguel holds your gaze, feeling his heart beat a fraction quicker as he repeats. “she’s with me tonight.” miguel reluctantly shifts his gaze back to jessy who is looking thoroughly confused.

“i didn’t know you two were friends.” jessy says, shifting his gaze to you, as you nibble at your lower lip. “you didn’t?” now miguel is taunting, getting far too much of a high out of this conversation. “we’ve grown quite close actually. she gives the best hugs, doesn’t she?” miguel catches the worried look in jessy’s eyes, and he couldn’t feel more elated. be worried. regret what you lost. because you arent getting her back.

“yeah, she’s great when it comes to physical affection.” jessy’s words are an indirect challenge, and miguel’s beginning of a smile falls, wanting so badly to remove jessy’s voice box. at this point most of jessy’s body parts are removed, and miguel is just waiting for him to completely bleed out.

you stand there eyeing them, as you contemplate just leaving the scene altogether, maybe gather the words you had prepared for jessy. miguel’s presence is all but a reminder of what you will inevitably have to do. as your mind wanders, your gaze zoning out onto the floor a moment, jessy takes a step closer to miguel, looking up at him as he tries to appear more intimidating, before he speaks lowly, out of your earshot. “just because you two have hugged a few times doesn’t mean she’s anything to you. you got that?”

miguel doesn’t flinch at his harsh words, staring down at jessy with eyes that makes him stiffen, and visibly gulp. no matter how prideful jessy gets he’s no match for miguel, and even he knows this. “just because she hasn’t left you yet doesn’t mean she’s anyway near being yours.” jessy’s nose twitches in anger. “yet? you must be blind if you think she’d ever leave me. she loves me.”

miguel’s claws twitch, but before he can speak, you step closer, grabbing jessy’s arm. “come on, let’s go.” you murmur, pulling jessy towards you. miguel shifts his gaze to you. meeting his eyes you catch what used to be a recommendation, a better option, now turned a demand. break up with him.

;;

“jessy, we need to talk.” you finally say after you two had begun to walk back together after lunch. jessy pauses, turning more to face you, as his expression shows underlying disinterest, something you had grown to ignore when you were together. …were together. that was first time you had unintentionally admitted that you weren’t a couple anymore.

“what?” jessy asks, before his gaze gets caught up behind you. you don’t even need to turn around to know who his lustful gaze is focused on. he could at least be more discreet. and now as you watched him imagine fucking another girl your whole prepared, well worded speech flew out the window. he didn’t deserve that attentiveness. “i want to break up.” you said it so simply, watching as his expression halts, before his brows furrowed. a flow of a emotions passes across his face before he looks to you, scoffing.

“funny.” he shakes his head. and he again has the audacity to look behind you. you don’t spare him another glance as you turn and walk away. jessy calls your name, his confusion evident. “where are you going?”

you walk up to the girl your ex boyfriend seems to be infatuated with and smile. “hey, sorry i don’t think we’ve properly met before.” she shifts her gaze to you and her smile instantly falls, before she picks it back up, her smile now a cheesy grin. “i’ve seen you on other missions, i should’ve introduced myself. i’m ronnie.”

“ronnie, nice to meet you.” you glance behind you, watching as jessy stands there, face paler than ever. you then gesture over to him, while shifting your gaze back to ronnie. “he was actually asking for you. you are the girl he fucked in that corner right? i wouldn’t want to get the wrong girl.” your innocent gaze is met by her frozen one. shock isn’t a big enough word as her lips part. “well, come on then, wouldn’t wanna keep him waiting, would you?” you place your hand on her back, guiding her towards him.

the moment her face paled, you knew that she knew of you. even the slip in her smile could have told you that. you step back looking at them both, as they look caught in the middle, unsure of what to do. you let your gaze drop down them both, before you nod. “you two make lovely couple.” your tone isn’t giving away any sadness or embarrassment. even if you may feel it, you would never give jessy that satisfaction of hurting you. if you meant nothing to him, he means nothing to you. and that confirmation feels like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

and as they both stare at you gulping, jessy’s mouth opening to most likely explain, you speak, beginning to step away. “maybe next time do a better job at hiring it.” you shift your gaze solely to ronnie, who’s looking thoroughly embarrassed. “and please don’t be naive enough to think that it won’t happen again. for your sake at least.”

;;

the moment you had found yourself alone you could feel the familiar frog arising in your throat. how the hell had you done that? been able to show no emotion, no, in fact fake sweetness? your subconscious slipped into that far too easily.

as you rest your hand on your head, taking a breath you don’t notice the shadow that looms over you. “jessy’s looking rather…out of it.” miguel’s voice meets your ears as you turn, your stomach suddenly burning up. “ah…you noticed that?” you ask. and by instinct you paste on a smile, until miguel raises his brows. you let your face relax, rubbing your lips together. “i hope that’s not because you kissed him.”

you lightly chuckle, shaking your head. “you know that thought actually makes me want to throw up now.”

you don’t notice it at first but miguel’s lips begin to quirk up at your words, before he’s actually smiling down at you. a proper smile that no one would associate with miguel, ever. “really?” it comes out a murmur, and you finally glance back up at him. his gaze is fixated, but unlike the other times he’s watched you, his eyes are now permanently holding onto you. no restraint can be found. he then takes a step forward as you briefly dart your gaze to the floor. “so, you aren’t together?” he further asks.

you nod. “thanks to you.” you say, watching as he takes another step before glancing back up to his face. your palms have increased in sweat. “thank you.” you confirm. but miguel just shakes his head. and as you wait for him to speak, thinking he would after disagree with something, all you’re left with is a tense silence surrounding you both. “so, uh,” you mutter, glancing around. “i should…” you point behind you in the direction you were heading, but suddenly miguel is very close, and suddenly your feet are sliding back.

and when your back hits the wall your breathing cuts short. miguel runs his tongue along his lower lip his gaze darting everywhere it can. you can almost feel his body heat radiating off of him. he’s so close. he feels even closer then he’s been all those times you’ve hugged. “i want to give you time.” he murmurs, tapping under your chin to lift it. “you deserve that…”

you’re staring up at him, eyes wide, and chest visibly moving quicker. “but, i just…” his hand hasn’t moved from your chin, now gliding along your jawline until he reaches your ear, his hand big enough to practically hold your head. you can feel his claws grazing your skin, as his eyes now show restraint. wavering restraint. “you aren’t anything to him now.” he continues as he now presses his body against yours, his hand slipping to your waist, and making you shiver.

“…and i don’t want anyone else to get a chance.” at his words your brows furrow. “a chance?” you slowly question. but before he manages to get any more words out, his breath having been tickling your lips he finally gives in, capturing your mouth hungrily. maybe a little harsh, but all he wants is to be prominent. more prominent. when you slowly begin to reciprocate, past the initial shock, miguel nearly groans at your willingness.

before you know it you’re being lifted, up into his arms, his hands having slipped down to grab your thighs. your quickly grab onto his shoulders, fully dependent on him, as he pushes you harder against the wall, not having broken the kiss once. he runs his tongue along your lower lip, asking for access. your mind is dizzy, your brain screaming for breath as you force yourself to break away, gripping his shoulders tightly.

but miguel doesnt leave your lips alone for long enough before he’s grabbing your chin and attaching his lips back to yours. “open up.” he murmurs, as your messed up mind forgets to let him in. once his tongue slides into your mouth, his grip tightening on your back as he keeps your legs spread around him, small sounds leave your lips and get muffled by his kisses. miguel manages a grin against your mouth, as you both pant into each other. “a chance to do that.” he breathlessly mutters, pulling you impossibly closer.

you then realise how public you guys are, and your eyes widen, glancing around and behind him. miguel re-directs your chin back to face him. “people.” you say quickly. “others could see.” miguel just tilts his head, running his claw running along random parts of your face as he hums. “mhm.”

“mhm? miguel we’re practically in a work setting.” you move to get down, but he tightens his hold, moving you off the wall as you grab his shoulders tighter. “put me down.”

all he does is bring your face back to his, wrapping his lips around your lower, this time slowly sucking and licking, as you go to protest in worry at being caught. “shh, stop squirming.” he speaks to your mouth, far too distracted in tasting you. with more peppered kisses, your lips are now bright red and swollen, his spit glistening. miguel doesn’t want to let you go. in all honesty he’s a little scared that it’ll be as if it never happened, if you do step back. he can’t have that. even though you don’t realise how deep his attachment to you runs, you have begun to feel it through his touches.

he’s the type to pull you closer if your ex eyes you. he’s the type to remind you what ‘more prominent’ really looks like. maybe you don’t set a definite label. he had said that you deserved a break. but all he meant was the title, the pressure. girlfriend or not, either way you’re gonna be there, hugging him when he’s stressed, kissing him when he grabs your face a certain way, and letting him mutter whatever it is on his mind into your neck, as he leaves marks to make people assume that the title is very much there.

you’re his comfort. he had realised this the first time you had offered him that hug. so maybe it’s your fault for his attachment to you. yeah, he’ll blame you. he’ll blame you for whatever it is he confides in you, it’s your fault that you just make him so fucking comfortable.

and as he continues to kiss you, now tilting your head to the side so that he can access your neck, with his tongue and gliding fangs, he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him. “aren’t you with me tonight?”

his earlier words, his cover for you. “well…i didn’t exactly agree to that.” miguel pulls away from your neck, raising his brows. you press your lips together. miguel mockingly nods. “oh, uh huh. yeah no my bad.” he grabs your neck, pulling your face back to his, as you gasp, his movements fast. and with his breath tickling your lips he whispers. “i meant longer than that.”

he doesn’t want to scare you away, but he just can’t help from confiding in you. “you know how you like to hug people?” you slowly nod, your gaze darting down to his close lips, his one hand on your thigh moving closer to your ass. it’s a better grip anyway. “from now on you don’t like to hug anyone.” he says.

your brows furrow. “what do you mean?” miguel now grabs your ass in both his hands, holding you more firmly against him. “you only like to hug me. you got that, cariño?”

“hugs don’t mean much—“ you begin, but his grip on you tightens, successfully shutting you up. “yes, they do. and your hugs mean more. so don’t you dare go wasting them on anyone else.”

you eye him a moment, your stomach burning. “alright. no hugs.” you then lean closer to his ear, your breath tickling as you suddenly jab at his side, his grip on you loosening a fraction, as you manage to get to your feet. “instead of hugging I’ll kiss people on the cheek. that seems fair right.” your smile gives away your true intentions.

but miguel isn’t having any of it, even if it is just a joke. as you step back holding your hands out, miguel walks forward. you spare a glance behind you briefly, careful not to trip, but it gives miguel the perfect opportunity to grab your extended hands, and yank you back towards him. “what did you say?” he asks, as you hit his chest.

you quickly shake your head. “nothing.” you mutter, but miguel squeezes your cheeks. “try again.” he states.

“you know, i might need that time that you offered. to think things through.” you mumble out. “oh really?” he hums. “uh huh.” you mumble back, but he just shakes his head. “sorry, too late.” he then leans in close. “you’re little hugs and kisses are all mine now.”

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liyawritesss · 1 year

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ᴇᴍᴇʀᴀʟᴅ ʜᴀʏᴡᴏᴏᴅ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Characters: Emerald Haywood

From: NOPE (2022) Dir. Jordan Peele

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: Some general headcanons (as well as a few high!emerald haywood) for final girl Emerald Haywood!

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drug usage (cannabis), suggestive themes

A/N: I’m a whore for black women, that's literally the only reason for this. Thanks to @babyboiboyega for inspo for the high!em headcanons....yes this was a long while ago BUT it's something to post while my laptop is still in the shop lol.

Tags: @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @lulu-network

Emerald don’t play about what she want. If its one thing her daddy taught her, its that if you want something, you put in all you got to get it. So best believe that if you catch her attention, and she comes up to you, she’s already been plotting on you for a minute, and has a sureproof plan of making you hers

Emerald is so in tune with her masculine and feminine energies that it throws you off sometimes. It’s incredibly attractive to you, and the slightest switch in tone or the softest touch on your hip has you quivering and on your knees.

Emerald always has to have some sort of physical contact with you, no matter where you are. She doesn’t care if she’s talking to her brother or to the president, her arm is always around your waist or your shoulders, or she’s always holding your hand. Cuz god forbid if these niggas think they have a chance with you. You’re hers and she’s gonna proudly show the entire world that.

Date nights are always fun and adventurous, never a dull moment with Emerald. Whether it be hitting up a burger joint or crashing at a festival or just stargazing out on the ranch, whatever you do with Emerald always leaves you happy and not wanting the night to end. Though she shushes you with an all-too passionate kiss and reassures you that there’ll always be another date, and that you're always welcome to stay the night at her place, because she’d be lying if she said she’s had enough of you, either.

Emerald is the type to always wanna facetime or video call you when both of yall are away from each other, and she’ll keep you on it with no remorse because she wants to see your pretty face and hear your pretty voice. Even when you say you're getting tired and that you’ll talk to her later, she’ll whine and say she wants to stay on the phone because she misses you and your voice. All that only to proceed to make fun of you when and if you do fall asleep on facetime the next day.

There’s two types of High!Emerald that you can get whatever she lights up a blunt. The first one is this giggly, happy go lucky emerald who has a never ending loop of jokes spilling from her lips, and is always tripping on shit - physically and figuratively. But that other High!Emerald is a rather…dangerous persona…

high!Emerald Haywood

High!Emerald who, if you're sitting on her lap, doesn’t let you up no matter what, because she just has to have her hands on you when her mind is muddled with smoke.

High!Emerald who has these dark, half-lidded eyes that make you all timid, hot and bothered because fuck, she looks so hot under the influence, and she knows it, and uses that against you every chance she gets.

High!Emerald who talks to you in this low, honey smooth tone, her voice dropping an octave and she either stares right into your eyes as she talks or she leans right into your ear to make sure you hear every word shes saying, and totally not because she loves watching you squirm at the way her voice alone gets to you

High!Emerald who sits back in her chair, manspreading, definitely checking you out while you're walking around the room. Especially if you're wearing next to nothing, cuz you know exactly what you be doing too. Whether its a tight tank or one of her shirts/hoodies and some short shorts, it drives her absolutely insane, more so when she’s high. She’ll motion for you to come to her, with a low “c'mere” that has your knees weak already

High!Emerald who, if you try to lift yourself off her lap, pulls you back down just as quick, muttering “where you goin’” with a hum as she dives into your neck, littering kisses along your throat that make your breath hitch. Her skillful fingers dance under your top, and she could care less about her brother downstairs or your folks in the next room, because when Emerald wants to hear your pretty voice, she’s going to get what she wants.

High!Emerald is so mean when she’s teasing you, saying ‘you gotta be quiet for me pretty girl’ even though she knows very well you won’t be able to, cuz you’re already a whimpering mess begging for more of her teasing, fleeting touch.

High!Emerald, who if she’s feeling mean enough, will just leave you be after she’s had her fill of your delicious sounds, leaving you a mess in her chair, near tears. But if she’s nice, which, she normally is anyway, she’ll indulge you, because she just can’t help to see her pretty baby teary eyed and unsatisfied

#black reader #black tumblr #black movies #nope film #NOPE #nope by jordan peele #nope jordan peele #keke palmer #emerald #emerald haywood #emerald haywood nope #nope emerald haywood #emerald haywood x reader #emerald haywood x black!reader #emerald x reader #emerald x black!reader

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cosmicmagicgirl · 1 year

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Do you trust me? - Comfort/Hurt/Fluff - Luffy x F/Reader.

@littleblueeyedmoon request: Hi! I saw that your request are open, and i thought I’d give it a try. Could i request some comfort/hurt ending with fluff with an insecure reader about her value with Luffy?

First he found her on that island, and obviously protected her from the Cidre Guild's attacks. It wouldn't be enough to just fall in during Empress Hancock's bath, Luffy also had to be oblivious to all the woman's advances. Not that you could get too mad at him, his laid back and innocent personality is what won you over in the first place.

Loving Luffy is not hard, in fact, it is the easiest thing. It's like breathing, you just do it. He was the sun itself, which is slightly ironic since his ship is the Thousand Sunny, but it's the truth, Luffy was easy to love and warmed the heart of anyone who was in his presence. However, being in the presence of someone like that makes you question your own worth, not that this is your captain's fault, but it is because he was an amazing human being in every sense of the word, it is true when we say that everyone is capable of loving Luffy to some level. That included all kinds of people, especially women.

This intensified after the two years you were apart, you trained hard, but not being by Luffy's side when he lost Ace made you feel terrible, you didn't want to imagine the extent of his pain...

And it only got worse when you learned that during this whole process the famous Empress Boa Hancock was present, and had a crush on your captain. You wish you could have been there, hugged Luffy and dried all the tears that might have run down your face during the nightmares of every night, but you weren't. You just buried it in your chest and moved on knowing that Luffy wouldn't take any of it from you, it seemed such a petty thing to feel jealous of the Empress at that point, and it was his order even that you all get stronger and get back together again two years later.

Would you be something after that time? Not that you had labeled your relationship, but before it was obvious to everyone in the crew that you were together. Was it a normal relationship? Definitely not, because nothing with Luffy could be normal. However, you knew he was with you and you were happy, but now what?

When you met again you decided to keep deep down that little insecurity that had settled in your mind during the period when you were apart.

But it has been a bit hard for you...

Luffy was never one to flirt with anyone, so that was never something you would worry about. The problem is that he was too oblivious and too kind for his own good....

You wanted to have been happy that Luffy had found the invitation to the Pirate Festival, but the interaction with Hancock looped through your mind, so nothing the crew talked about made you feel excited. However, you knew how to fake it well, you were always good at hiding your feelings, you just didn't know how far you could mask your insecurities.

So when Luffy smiled and announced "Let's set sail, our destination is Delta Island" you put your best smile on your face and agreed.

Well, the Festival couldn't have been worse for you, I mean, you even tried to have fun with the girls and Chopper while shopping, but your mind was away. However, nothing is bad enough that it can't get worse, that's what you thought when you were thrown to the other side of Delta Island by Douglas Bullet when you tried to protect Usopp and the treasure that would be Luffy's. You fell straight into the sea, and blacked out.

You woke up with Nami calling you and putting pressure on your chest.

- Thank God you're awake! - she sighed with relief. - What a fright you gave me!

You got up quickly and let all the water out of your lungs.

- I'm sorry - you forced a smile. - Is everyone all right?

Nami smiled and handed you a towel.

- Yes, I mean... Luffy is still fighting that thing - she pointed to the other side of the island.

You got to your feet with some difficulty and tried to hand the towel back to Nami.

- I should get back? - you said.

- Look! It's Shichibukai Empress Boa Hancock! - you heard Bartolomeo shout.

Nami and you looked in her direction from a considerable distance.

- Listen up! No matter what I do, the whole world will be at my feet. Do you know why? - said the woman. - Because I'm too beautiful!

Nami rolled her eyes.

A Navy captain shouted some order, but received a nervous response from the Empress.

- Shut up! - she shouted. - Where is Luffy?

Your body tensed, and you gripped the towel in your hands tighter when you saw Hancock heading toward where Luffy was supposed to be fighting.

Nami looked back at you and grabbed your hand.

- Hey... are you okay? - she asked worriedly.

When your friend touched your hand you automatically made a mental note to hide your reactions better, so you blinked at her and gave her a big smile.

- Yes, thank you for saving me, Nami - you shook her hand back. - I'll help with the Navy ships.

She frowned.

- I thought you were going back to help Luffy.

You forced a laugh from your lips.

- I'd only be in the way, the Captain doesn't need my help. - you tried to soften your voice as much as possible. - I'm going now.

- Hey, wait! - Nami shouted, but to no avail.

You were already gone.

It was no surprise to you when they said that Luffy had destroyed the Eternal Pose for Laugh Tale, it was just his style to do that. Everyone went back to the ship, Usopp was still sleeping because of his injuries, but in the end everyone was safe and sound.

It was quite an adventure.

And just when you thought you could finally calm your mind since the events with Boa Hancock and the Cidre's Guild, you couldn't be more wrong. The Empress decided to sail her ship side by side with Sunny for a few days, that meant she would be by Luffy's side the whole time and her dear captain wouldn't do anything about it, of course he wouldn't, why would he? Were you really something? Did you compare in beauty and strength to the great Shichibukai? God, you were sure you didn't.

Having to see all the moments when she declared herself and showed her affection for your boyfriend, while he just smiled and continued to play with Usopp only dug an even deeper hole in your chest.

It was here that you realized that your mask was about to come off, and it would be awful to have someone ask about it, you felt like such an idiot for letting your feelings get the worst of you. But gosh, it was so painful to think that you would never be enough for him, it would be easier to just feel an emptiness inside - like you felt before you met Luffy.

Looking at your pictures together in your little notebook reminded you of when you first met the straw hat. Meeting Luffy was like spending years in the desert searching for water and finding an oasis, it was like receiving a warm, cozy lap after spending years in a snowstorm alone, and most of all it was hope. Thinking about losing Luffy to someone who would probably be much better than you only made the shame of yourself increase - you were pathetic.

So you did what you thought would be best, you isolated yourself. As long as the Empress remained, you would avoid leaving the room and take any task that would get you away from everyone. Your insecurities took over your mind, and the last thing you needed was for any of your companions to feel sorry for you or just try to comfort you. You loved them, but you couldn't handle it now?

That's what you thought at least.

You walked up to the crow's nest and spotted the one you were looking for - Zoro was sleeping as usual. You kicked his feet gently to wake him up.

He opened one of his eyes.

- I was awake, you know.

You rolled your eyes and laughed.

- I just wanted to make sure - you said as you crossed your arms. - You can go to sleep, I'll pick up your shift.

Zoro raised one eyebrow.

- Again? - he said, getting up.

- Yes - you answered bluntly. - Don't you want to go to sleep?

This time the green-haired man crossed his arms.

- You've been taking all night shifts for three days now, and I ask you, don't you want to go to sleep?

You sat down with your back to him and stared at the Empress ship through the window.

- No, I'm fine - you stretched and picked up the new book Robin had given you as a present at the Festival.

Zoro stared at you, and scratched the back of his neck.

- You want to talk-

You interrupted him.

- Good night, Zoro - and began to read the book.

The swordsman sighed and walked away, leaving you in the company of silence and your newest book.

-Y/n! - called Luffy, smiling. - Come here!

You smiled and went toward Sunny's head, Luffy's favorite spot.

He stretched out his arms and wrapped them around your waist, and pulled you up.

- Luffy! - you exclaimed. - Careful, we might fall!

He laughed with a toothy grin.

- Shishishi - he hugged you tight. - I'll never let you fall, y/n! Don't you trust me?

You were surprised at his words, but then you smiled at him with all the affection your heart could muster.

- Of course I trust you, Captain. - you took his hand in yours. - The future King of Pirates would never let me fall!

And he smiled even wider as you watched the sunset.

You could already see the sun rising over the horizon, so you knew that Sanji would be waking up to prepare breakfast. Knowing this you dispelled the memories that hit you, went downstairs and straight to the kitchen to have your coffee before everyone else, and then stay in your room for the rest of the day.

As soon as you entered the kitchen Sanji welcomed you with a gentle smile.

- I see you've picked up the watch again - he said, handing you a cup of tea. - May I ask how long you will be doing this, sweetie?

You smiled at your friend thanking him for the tea.

- How long will I be taking shifts? - you played dumb.

Sanji went back to the stove and had his back to you.

- He can be pretty stupid most of the time - you smiled. - But he's not stupid, you know...

You picked up one of the muffins he had put on the table.

- Thanks for breakfast, Sanji - you finished drinking your tea and eating, and got up to put them in the sink since Sanji would never allow you to wash them.

And so you made your way to the girls' room.

Nami had probably already got up to take her shower, so she was not in the room, but Robin was.

- Picked up the watch again I suppose? - she said in her soft voice.

You put your things on the table, got into bed and covered yourself up.

- I wanted to read that book, so this is the best time - you replied. Robin agreed.

- Luffy asked about you all day yesterday - she reported. - But I told him you were asleep, because you spent the night on watch.

Your body froze.

- Right... - you curled up even closer under the covers. - Thank you, Robin.

Robin walked over to the table and picked up the book you were reading, you had read fewer pages than usual, she concluded by marking it.

- Perhaps you would like to know that the Empress will be leaving with her ship soon? - she stared at you, but you didn't move. - Perhaps tomorrow.

You sat up in bed.

- God, this is so ridiculous. - you rubbed your face. - It's so obvious to all of you, isn't it?

- Well, isolating yourself might not have been very subtle. - Nami's voice came, she had just entered the room.

- Maybe I'm just tired of being subtle - you muttered.

- It's about time, finally then! - she exploded.

Robin laughed.

You threw yourself back on the bed.

- You have to tell him. - Nami said.

You snorted.

- That's pretty obvious, Nami, thanks - you said ironically. - It hadn't even crossed my mind.

- Apparently it didn't even cross your mind since you're avoiding him like a plague! - she said nervously. - Consequently driving us all away together.

You sighed.

- I know, I'm sorry...

- Just get rid of whatever's bothering you - Nami ordered. - You always keep everything to yourself, if you don't want to talk to Luffy about it yet, at least talk to us. We're your friends.

Robin agreed.

- I feel so stupid about this. - you admitted. - I hate feeling this way, it's frustrating - you started to feel your eyes sting. - I just don't feel that I'm worthless to Luffy, not as someone special...

- Like a girlfriend - Nami concluded.

You agreed.

And it was a good few minutes of you pouring out your insecurities about how you felt compared to the famous Empress, and it didn't help that Luffy didn't seem to show any romantic feelings about you. Nami and Robin were kind enough to wipe away your tears and hug you to stifle the sobs that insisted on coming from your lips.

They stayed there until you fell asleep.

Nami looked at Robin and sighed in annoyance as they both left the room.

- How long do you think she has been feeling like this? I mean, it's a long time if it's been on her mind since our separation.

Robin paused for a moment to think.

- If it came up because of the Empress, then yes, it is since our separation. I'm not surprised she's like this - they approached the kitchen. - It's a long time feeding these insecurities.

- It's understandable that she doesn't want to see them - said Nami.

- Who doesn't want to see who? - a voice behind them asked.

Nami and Robin were startled.

- Luffy!

The boy let out a laugh.

- So, what were you two talking about? - he turned his head to the side in confusion, his typical confused expression.

Nami stammered.

- I was talking about a new book I bought at the Festival - Robin answered. - It's a novel.

Luffy stared at them for a moment and then agreed indifferently.

- SANJI!!! FOOD!!! - shouted the captain.

Everyone was already in the kitchen, ready to attack the food Sanji had prepared.

However, as soon as Luffy went to take the cookies to his mouth, he stopped for a moment staring at all his companions as if looking for something.

- Where is y/n? - he asked confused.

Everyone was silent.

Luffy blinked a few times in confusion, then Sanji spoke.

- Our dear y/n-swan has already had breakfast - he brought the cigarette to his lips. - She was watching last night.

Again silence reigned in the room.

- Again? - asked the captain. - Wasn't it Zoro's turn?

Everyone was surprised.

- She asked to take my place - said the swordsman, taking another piece of cake.

Luffy frowned and his face became serious.

- Is she having trouble sleeping? - asked Chopper. - She needs rest....

The poor reindeer seemed to be the only one besides her captain who didn't know what was going on.

- Y/n-san asked me yesterday to take my next shift - said Brook. - And my shift is tonight...

Luffy got up without even touching his food and went towards the kitchen door.

- Luffy! Wait! - called Nami. - She's tired, we let her sleep. Talk to her later, okay?

Luffy didn't stop and left.

Nami sighed tiredly, and Robin smiled.

- I hope they work things out - Usopp said with his mouth full. - No one can contain Luffy like y/n, he's been hard to keep up with these days.

- But with the Empress here, suuuper not cool! - Frank was sincere. - Poor y/n... our captain is very oblivious.

- Yo-ho-ho-ho - laughed Brook. - The Empress Boa Hancock didn't leave him alone for a second.

- That idiot! - Sanji whined with envy.

Luffy was determined to find you and find out why you were avoiding him, he could be very distracted at times, but it had been a while since he felt that you were becoming more and more distant from him. He was a straightforward guy with simple conclusions, so he just waited for you to talk to him about whatever was bothering you.

The thing is, you didn't do that, you just smiled back at him as you normally did, and that made him think that you were better. But he realized that he was a fool to think that, of course you were faking it, now what he wanted to know was why you did it. Did you no longer trust him? Did you not like him anymore?

Luffy was not an insecure boy, in fact, he was quite confident. That changed a little when he thought he had lost his crew and after Ace died. But he managed to turn it around and focus on coming back stronger to fulfill his dream and protect his crew - and protect you.

However, at this very moment a small spark of insecurity arose in your mind, could it be that you had grown tired of him? I mean, he knows that he is an energetic and difficult person to keep up with, but you always seemed to enjoy his antics. Why then would you show that you were okay, if in fact you were not.

He felt a little betrayed, as if everyone knew what you had - except him.

As he crossed the deck to head toward his rooms, a voice called out to him.

- Luffy! My darling! - Boa Hancock and her passionate eyes came toward him. - Good morning! How are you?

Luffy ignored it and went on his way - he had too much on his mind to listen to the Empress at the moment.

Boa Hancock froze, she seemed to have been deeply hurt.

- Luffy? - she called out in confusion.

As he turned the knob to go to the bedroom hallway one of Hancock's sisters shouted.

- IT'S THE MARINE!!!

And a thud hit Sunny - they were firing cannonballs.

Everyone came out of the kitchen and took their posts.

Luffy was annoyed, he would have to talk to you later.

It was two Marine ships, the Marines cornered them and soldiers stormed Sunny's deck. The Empress' ship was dealing with one and the Straw Hats with the other.

You woke up when the ship rocked and you rolled out of bed.

- Oh, shit! - you rubbed your lower back in pain. - What the hell was that?

That's when you heard Nami scream.

- Fucking Marines!

You ran out without even putting on your shoes, and when you opened the door to the hallway you found chaos on the deck. You joined Nami's side, knocking out one of the sailors who was trying to attack her from behind.

- Looks like you woke up just in time - she said, smiling.

Another thud hit the ship, and you almost lost your balance.

- We need to get out of the crossfire, Nami - you said.

She agreed.

- Frank! - she shouted.

One of the Marines aimed at you from a distance and fired, and you managed to dodge it just in time to knock him off the ship.

You looked directly at the bullet now lodged in Sunny's wood and thought it strange. You reached up and took the bullet by the fingers and were startled.

Kairoseki

You turned quickly and ran to warn Nami, but she had already changed position, everyone was scattered and with the cannon noises it was impossible for anyone to hear you.

That's when you heard Luffy's scream, he was about to take down a dozen sailors, but he didn't see when the navy captain had a gun pointed at his back.

Time seemed to have stopped, your throat knotted and your heart seemed to have stopped for those seconds. You didn't think for a second, your body moved on its own and your legs ached from the force you exerted on them, but you had to - you had to get to him in time.

When the sound of the gunshot reverberated, you screamed.

- Luffy! - throwing yourself on him.

- Y/N! - he smiled, thinking that you were happy to see him, but his smile disappeared seconds after he realized what had happened. - What did you-

Zoro watched as Luffy braked as he looked at one of his hands, he immediately set about knocking down the man who had tried to shoot his captain.

Luffy saw red, her blood now trickling down his hands as he tried to cover the wound on her back.

- CHOPPER!!! - he shouted. - FAST!!!

Luffy's chest filled with a fear he hadn't experienced in two years. He was terrified, you weren't opening your eyes and your breathing seemed weaker and weaker.

It was all over as quickly as it started, the Marines beat a retreat and the Straw Hat crew ran to see what had happened. Chopper picked up your unconscious body and ran towards the infirmary - everyone was left waiting for what would happen next.

- Why would she do that? - whispered Usopp. - After all Luffy is bullet-proof...

Everyone was silent.

No one dared to speak to their captain at that moment, not even the Empress, he seemed as angry as he was desolate. It had been almost an hour since Chopper came in with you, and no news had arrived.

Until the door to the infirmary opened and a gloomy reindeer came out.

- She's out of danger now... - everyone's breath seemed to have caught, as everyone let out a sigh of relief. - But there is no prediction for when she will wake up...

- Was it that bad? - asked Robin.

Chopper's voice came out apprehensive.

- The bullet passed close to the heart, if it was only a few centimeters to the side... - he swallowed dryly. - I couldn't save her...

Everyone choked.

- Another thing - Chopper stretched out his paws and handed a piece of cloth to Usopp - It's made of Kairoseki...

The relatively thick bullet was there stained with his blood.

Luffy stood up and stroked the reindeer's head.

- Thank you, Chopper... - he went towards the infirmary. - But I need to see her now.

Chopper agreed.

You didn't know how much time had passed, the last thing you remembered was your captain's panicked face and his voice calling you from afar, he seemed so far away - how tragic.

You felt your whole body burn for a few moments, and everything seemed to hurt. You opened your eyes and saw the clear ceiling that appeared to be the one in Chopper's ward, you tried to sit up, but the pain stopped you. So you just turned your head to survey the place.

Your breathing stopped when you saw Luffy's body sitting on the other side of the floor against the wall, he appeared to be asleep. You smiled with relief, he was okay after all.

Your sigh of relief was louder than intended, as Luffy's head rose from his sleep - he seemed surprised to see you awake.

- You're awake! - he smiled. - I'll go get Chopper.

A few days passed, and Luffy never left your side. Apparently the Empress had been on her way from the time you crawled into the infirmary until you woke up. You had slept for two days.

You were doing better, although Chopper insisted that you remain under observation. So, to distract yourself you began to read the book that Robin had given you, and Luffy listening intently - he insisted that you read it to him too.

- In exchange for your help, he said, I offer you something very valuable - you read aloud. - My freedom? asked the man. - You paused to watch the reaction of the young man next to you, he was involved in the story. - Freedom can be taken away from us, as you well know. I offer you my knowledge.

Luffy wrinkled his forehead and made a pout with his lips that you found adorable.

- They shouldn't have their freedom taken away - he complained.

You laughed.

- Well, I guess you're right. - You closed the book.

Luffy stared at you for a moment.

- I'm sorry - he whispered.

You looked confused.

- For what?

- For letting you get hurt - his voice came out so low you couldn't tell it was Luffy speaking. - I thought...

You touched his hand gently and your thumb made affectionate circles in his palm.

- Hey... - you warned him. - There's no reason for you to apologize, you know. I'd do it again to protect you. - A loving smile appeared on your lips. - After all, I love you...

This made Luffy's heart leap and he smiled.

- Do you love me...? - asked Luffy as if he had discovered something incredible. - Really?

You laughed at his reaction.

- Of course I do, you silly... - you put your hands on his face and stroked his cheeks. - Why so surprised?

Luffy leaned into the touch of your hands.

- You were avoiding me... - he said. - I thought you didn't like me anymore.

His hand stopped and you widened your eyes, surprised this time.

Your heart ached, he looked so desolate when he spoke. After all that had happened you had forgotten your insecurities, they had been replaced by the physical pain and worry that Luffy was hurt.

But now, all that came back again, the anguish you felt. You knew you should have talked to him about it, now he was the one who thought you didn't feel the same way. God, what a mess.

- Everyone seemed to know what was wrong but me. - he said in frustration. - I was going to talk to you that morning, but the Marines came, and - His voice broke. - And I almost lost you…

- Luffy, I...

- Don't you trust me anymore? - his eyes looked pleading, and it hurt your heart to see him so distressed. - You didn't look happy...

- Of course I do! - you answered immediately. - Of course I trust you, Luffy. I just... - you sighed. - This is so embarrassing...

Luffy looked confused.

- Then why didn't you talk to me? - he asked.

- Because I was afraid... - you replied, but before he could think it was his you answered. - Afraid that I was right.

- Right? - he turned his head in confusion, he was annoyingly cute.

- Luffy... - your voice came out fearful. - Are you my boyfriend?

He made a confused face and then shook his shoulders.

- “Boyfriend" is a stupid word, I'm not your boyfriend - he said. Your heart seemed to break, and then he continued. - What we are can't be labeled with words like that, even friends don't come close.

Your heart raced with anxiety.

- We are much, much more than that! - Luffy exclaimed. - You are going to be my pirate queen after all.

He smiled. Oh yes, he smiled, and may God have mercy on you, ‘cause that man was your sun. Your eyes filled with tears and you began to cry instantly.

Luffy became desperate.

-Oi! why are you crying? - he tried to wipe the tears from his face. - Did I say something stupid?

You laughed.

- No, it's nothing like that.

Luffy snorted.

- Don't scare me like that, y/n! - he crossed his arms as if in a tantrum.

- Sorry, Luffy... - you laughed as you dried your tears. - It's just, I thought you didn't want me anymore.

Luffy changed his posture.

- Why would you think that? - he said seriously.

- I thought you liked Empress Boa Hancock... - you admitted embarrassed. - I felt so weak and ugly compared to her. She's so beautiful and you always paid attention to her, and...

Luffy was silent.

- I wasn't there for you when you lost Ace - you cried again. - I wasn't strong enough on Delta Island and you didn't seem to be attracted to me anymore. I thought I wasn't enough, I never would be, you are amazing..., but she.... She is, and...

- Stop - Luffy's voice sounded more serious than usual, his gaze was fixed on you. - I think you're amazing, y/n! You wouldn't be my person, my future pirate queen, if I didn't! I would never change my mind about that, well only if you didn't want to be... - he rambled.

You were silent, your heart beating so fast.

- I love you! - Luffy shouted. - And you're strong as hell! And well... - he scratched the back of his neck. - I think you're so beautiful, and your smile... I love to see you smile.

Your eyes widened, Luffy had never complimented you like that, you were embarrassed, your cheeks were probably red.

- I chose you, I don't want anyone else, and I decide that I will love you! Always! - he said determinedly.

Tears again streamed down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. You smiled and agreed with your beloved captain.

After Chopper gave you your pain medicine, you lay down to sleep, but not before asking Luffy to join you. Now here you were, with your head resting against the chest of the man who owned your heart. You lifted your head to look at his face, and then your eyes met, and he kissed your forehead and smiled kindly.

You snuggled back into his arms and in a clearly harmonious, almost predestined harmony, your hearts beat as one, you closed your eyes and laughed to yourself - we are all fools in love. Whatever your insecurities were, they vanished like dust in the air. In that moment in Luffy's arms, all you felt was how loved you were.

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lamemaster · 1 month

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A Penance Unwanted

Request: Hi!🙂 How are you? ❤️Can you please spin the wheel for Gwindor? Thanks 💝✨️

Pairing: Gwindor x Reader

Genre: Timeloop au

AN: @mairablue Thanks for requesting!! Gwindor is awesome gotta love him. Such a fun concept. (What in the Hell is Happening Event)

“God dammit! You should have held him.” You groan watching Beleg die for the 25th time. Gwindor winced next to you. And from a distance you both watched Turin lament in the same low groaning pitch for the same 25th time.

“I couldn’t have done that!” Gwindor replied indignantly. “Beleg wouldn’t listen. Look at these arms, do you think I can stop Cuthalion? You should have killed the orcs and then hit Turin on the head or something.”

There had been a time when Beleg’s death daunted both Gwindor and you into silence. But now, it was a recurring event. Painful but numbed by the inevitable recurrence.

You were back at it again. Stuck in the storyline of Turin and Beleg’s tragedy. Whatever deity found this funny had a messed-up sense of humor.

"Next time, take Beleg through a longer route," you muttered, forming yet another plan, your voice heavy with a weariness born of repetition. "I'll try to find a way to poison the orcs, and hopefully, knock Turin out before he…" You trailed off, the futility of the task gnawing at you. But giving up wasn't an option. There had to be a way to break the loop, a way to alter the story.

"I swear to god if this is damned Melkor," you muttered, waiting for the inevitable reset. For both you and Gwindor to return to the past, to relive Beleg's death, and Turin's despair.

Knocking out Beleg, setting traps, and almost battling the thought of driving your sword through the emo king of Arda. This stupid loop tested you in every way. And most of all Gwindor who, unlike you, couldn't escape the grasp of Melkor's evil. The weight of his struggle, the subtle changes in his personality with each loop, filled you with a cold dread.

“Melkor can only so long imprison the children of Illuvatar,” Gwindor replied gently. His voice- so peaceful despite the pain he witnessed every reset. Taking your hand in his he continued, “We will find a way. One way or another you will return to your world and I will come to bear my fate.” There was this amazing elf. Comforting you when the hell broke loose around him.

There was something truly extraordinary about this elf. Here he was, trapped in an endless cycle of loss, yet he offered you comfort when the world around him crumbled. You couldn't help but wonder if it was the same unwavering faith in the good that led to his capture in the first place.

It wasn't the scars or marks of torture that marred his once-handsome face that hurt you most, but the sheer unfairness of it all. He, who deserved a life filled with music and laughter, was trapped in this nightmarish cycle, forced to relive his torment while offering you solace.

"It isn't me you should be comforting," you chuckled, the sound hollow even to your own ears. "This is my penance. A fate that has led me to this nightmare, a well-deserved one." You didn't remember much of your world, only flashes – the resentful faces of strangers contorted in anger, the screaming voices that echoed relentlessly in your head, driving you to the teetering edge of insanity. You remembered everything but Gwindor from the rotten book you found in your dingy cell, the only companion in your solitary confinement.

The same one who now sat beside you, his hand warm against yours, a beacon of comfort in this unending darkness. "I deserve this. You don't," you whispered, the words heavy with a self-loathing you couldn't quite explain. He, who you sometimes questioned was real or a figment conjured by your fractured mind.

No. You wouldn't accept this twisted fate. You would break the loop, not just for your own sake, but for Gwindor's. Even if it meant defying the very fabric of this story, you would find a way to free him from Melkor's clutches.

Fuck Melkor, Ocrs, Turin, Valar, Illuvatar, and his wretched song. You were going to tear it all apart.

#silmarillion x reader #what in the hell is happening event #gwindor x reader #timeloop au #Beleg #Turin

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scorchedthesnake · 3 months

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March 7, 2011

I moved to New York City in August 2010. My life before New York was something I’d grown completely unsatisfied with: I had moved to Connecticut for graduate school in 2001, had weathered two recessions in the relative security of academe but could see the writing on the wall for the doom of that profession and so had, via my teaching assistants union, begun to work for our international union as a communications staffer. This had given me a way out of Connecticut, though escaping the cultish environment of the union would still take a few more years.

The person I was back then was very unlike the person I am now. I wasn’t very much fun those first nine months in the city because I was just so afraid of everything. Bars scared me; too many strangers. Clubs scared me; too dark and too many unknowns and unpredictable scenarios. I was happy to be in a new place but petrified by what that freedom actually meant, and I had yet to find any place to belong or feel at home in.

I worked on 7th Avenue back then, around 27th Street. I remember sitting in my dreary cubicle that Monday, when I got a message from my best friend Matt, asking me if I wanted to go to a show that evening. No, I said, I really just want to go home and hide from the world. It’s the show John (O’Malley) is working on, he said, and he got us comps. Well what kind of show is it, I asked? “We’re gonna, like, chase sexy dancers around a warehouse.” Oh god that sounds so stupid, do I have to? “Just come with me, if you hate it you can leave.”

So around 7pm I walked over to 10th Avenue and the block was so dumpy back then – junkyards, warehouses, not much else. I saw a small line of people gathered at the address I’d been given, so I approached and was handed this card:

I don’t remember anything about checking in or what it was like seeing Manderley for the first time, though I do remember Maximilian being there, giving a short speech and then we were taken to the elevator. I remember getting off the elevator on 3, and taking far too long to explore an empty Macbeths bedroom before, I suppose, figuring out I should investigate the other floors.

I’ve told this story often, though: at some point I came across an extremely attractive man moving quickly, so I did what it seemed like many others were doing: I followed him. We were in the 2nd loop by now, and I had realized it was a loop; but my target soon was running down High Streeet and through a darkened door and it slammed in my face and, to my surprise, was locked.

Oh, there are secret things all over here, aren’t there?

So I picked up his trail again as soon as I could, and stuck as close as I could. Including when we stumbled down all the flights of stairs and I wondered, should I call for help? Is the performer injured? But I stuck to him like glue and when he again approached that darkened door I was close enough to get inside.

And so the highlight of my first show was seeing Luke Murphy in interrogation.

After the finale I reconnected with Matt. We had, of course, seen completely different shows. As we exited we saw John. “Did you get any one on ones,” he asked? One on whats? “Well, I had one where the man in the lobby took me into a room and started putting on makeup.”

No we hadn’t seen anything like that. We immediately set about buying tickets for later in the six-week run. And we wandered the streets for a couple hours after that, comparing notes, feverishly reconstructing what we had just experienced.

Obviously I did not sleep that night.

So much of the time you don’t know when everything has changed. You realize it long after the fact and in retrospect. Not this, this I knew was a fundamental shift. I’d never felt my senses at full alert like that, my mind racing trying to make sense of something so visceral. The music rang in my ears for hours, days later, and I knew when I came back, I’d need a plan.

#sleep no more #sleepnomore #mckittrick hotel #sleepnomorenyc #sleep no more nyc #punchdrunk #mckittrick

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thegoodending-thelasttime · 5 months

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my reaction to the resident lover lore drop: part two

access the doc yourself here

spoilers utc

DONNA CONTD

i have a lot to say about the the donna and daniela relationship section, none of which i feel capable of putting into words for the time being. i will, however, say this.

"Donna is watching what could've been in regards to her past self when it comes to Dani and MC"

"Just sometimes [Donna] really wants to hit [Cassandra] you know?" i think a lot of people in the fandom know after Cass' infamous neutral ending

"She grieves but she lets herself live too." all the muscles in my face are convulsing

"Donna struggles to stand up for herself for a long portion of her route and only through the aid of MC will she start to show a little more of her backbone." Donna. i can help you be brave Donna. pick me. choose me. love me. (delusional 3)

"There is a brief scene in which Miranda and Donna are having tea while Donna has a complete and utter breakdown about just how on the edge she is. Miranda of course encourages her to keep spiraling..." miranda i'm going to get you.

"Donna is mentally unstable at this point and can either be sent into the abyss or helped out of the low point toward a brighter future." I CAN HELP YOU TOWARD A BRIGHTER FUTURE DONNA I SWEAR PLEASE (delusional 4)

Depression being a theme is just. I'm going to write a hurt/comfort fic about this.

and, "Destiny [Soulmates]" don't think I'm normal about that either. cuz i'm not.

the nursery being an allegory for Donna. my brain feels like a backyard and you're mowing it with a tiny little lawnmower.

"Hades and Persephone" words. in my mind.

glad that Donna fans unknowingly cracked phantom of the opera though, that's fun

"...she is not unwilling to lunge towards Miranda herself and brandish a weapon in her direction." she's so real for this

"Miranda has had to trigger the loop several times in reaction to a violent outburst of Donna’s." WOOOO YOU GO BABE. FUCK UP MIRANDA'S LIVES HELL YEAH

"MC shows unconditional and unwavering love towards someone with severe abandonment issues and gets a very attached flower shop owner for their troubles." SHUT UP MY HEART.

"...a small part of her is pleased to know she got the upper hand on Miranda. Donna’s ability to make MC explicitly reject Miranda has left the goddess incredibly pissed..." FUCK YEAH

"Post Donna Miranda is particularly cruel about how she treats the toxicologist and parades MC near her but never in reach." top five sentences that make you want to kill a cult leader

"LIKES: Stuffed Animals..." help i love her so much my heart really can't take this

"LIKES: Pranks. I’m sorry she’s a menace" i'll prank her back (by kissing her on the face)

"DISLIKES: Those really sad adoption commercials where they play ‘I Will Remember You’ while a slideshow of really sad puppies plays. They make her cry" NO DONNA POOKIE BEAR DON'T CRY COME HER LET ME HUG YOU

"DISLIKES: Miranda" OMG SHE DISLIKES MIRANDA TOO (shocker) !?!?! WE'RE SO SIMILAR WE SHOULD MARRY ACTUALLY

MIRANDA

MC and miranda being burned alive the first time around. man wtf

love that they were both canonically sickly victiorian children at one point

"Death penalty for sodomy" that actually has me so fucked up. how could you do this to me

"[MC] Drowned, Miranda was nearby but chose not to save them" WHAT WHY

"Mia got mad and threw a stone at MC" i would get mad too if i saw someone repeatedly fall for miranda over the course of multiple timelines

"Miranda ran MC over in an accident" HELP 💀

miranda really fell for the unluckiest motherfucker goddamn. tom and jerry ass

"Yes + Mia" "No + Mia" best way to word this. i will be using these from now on. ask me a yes/no question i dare you.

"This life is when the very first iteration of Eva is born and it completely changes Miranda’s soul as a confounding variable in their soulmate-hood" oh my GOD. i'm a little scared miranda's section might be making me start to like her a little.. NO I REFUSE. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING.

"Toxic Yuri + Loving" thank you Cinder. i appreciate you for your silliness.

really wish we got more eva content but oh well. maybe in the dlc content the team said would probably come out in a few years/maybe more

"Mia’s soul has slowly changed over time and has grown to naturally despise Miranda’s soul for its unwitting part in MCs death every life" nvm i like Mia infinitely more than miranda

"Mia acts as a foil to Miranda’s relationship in every life they meet because she is - without fail - naturally resistant to them being together and highly suspicious of the way Miranda behaves" FUCK MOTHER MIRANDA ALL MY HOMIES HATE MOTHER MIRANDA. MIA'S A REAL ONE.

"[Bela and Miranda] would be insane if they worked together, but unfortunately, they are narratively designed to be pitted against each other" i disagree i think it's very fortunate they're not on the same team

"Miranda is afraid of [Donna] because she remembers every single time loop... Donna is also handy with sharp objects and has been known to attempt a few murders at meetings when pushed..." fuck yeah. be afraid miranda.

"...views Donna as “cursed” due to her family history of deaths" can i say kys just this once (to miranda).

"Intrinsically offended when MC chose Donna during the loop" be offended. L + bozo + cry about it + Donna's better

"[Donna and Miranda have] used each other as crutches in moments of weakness... they used to have regular tea together in which they would act out their familial roles and encourage each other further down their spirals" i'm actually not okay rn thanks for asking!

...that legitimately has me so fucked up

"Miranda actively encourages Donna’s fears to keep her under control..." "She would kill Angie to both punish Donna and to relieve herself of the annoyance" hey miranda come here. what do you mean, i don't have anything in my pocket. don't worry about it just come here. so i can... hug you. SHANKS YOU MIA STYLE BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS THIS TIME SHANKS YOU MIA STYLE BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS THIS TIME SHANKS YOU MIA STYLE BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS THIS TIME

"Miranda and MC are soulmates, all the way up to their 19th life this is 100% proven and true (even though they don't always get to meet) but the 20th life is different because Miranda is still in her 19th. It could be argued that MCs soulmate is who 20th Miranda was supposed to be. (Could've been if a coin had been flipped)." I'M ACTUALLY HYPERVENTILATING RIGHT NOW THANK YOU FOR FEEDING USTHANKYOU MY HEART OH MY FUCKIUNG GOD ASDFGUIHUADSDHLFKAJHSDFKLGJHDAFKJG. I BANGED ON MY DESK THAT'S NOT EVEN A JOKE WHAT THE ACTUASL FUCK

"MC would go into divorce arc which is salvageable but very long winded" need yall to elaborate on this, also it made me giggle

"The only exceptions are Mia (who told Miranda to fuck off), Bela (who still remembered), and Angie (who doesn’t listen to anybody)." that's so based of all of them. naming them the based squad for this.

"DISLIKES: Her height being mentioned" i don't care if it's a low blow and that she's actually one inch taller than me. i'll call her short. short ass. imagine being 5'6" lmao

part three coming up

#resident lover #resident lover lore #resident lover spoilers #resident lover donna #resident lover donna beneviento #resident lover daniela #resident lover daniela dimitrescu #resident lover mc #resident lover bela #resident lover bela dimitrescu #resident lover mia #resident lover mia winters #resident lover angie #resident lover angie beneviento #resident lover miranda #resident lover mother miranda #resident lover cassandra #resident lover cassandra dimitrescu #resident lover eva

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crescentfool · 9 months

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I noticed you're a Ryomina!!! How did you get into it? And do you have any good fanfics/doujinshi you can advice me to read? ANYTHING on Ryomina actually? I'm dying for anything about them!!! Thanks!!

yes!!! it's me!!! i'm ryomina fan (one of many)!!! thank you for visiting my askbox, i'll do my best to answer all of the questions because it always makes me happy to see that ryomina sparks joy for people! :D

...this got really long because i like linking to things, so i'm putting it under a read more (IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT THEM)

how did i get into it? i got into persona 3 around august 2021 through the movies- at the time my only experience with the persona series was with P5R / P5S / P5D. p3 was the one that interested me the most (i thought minato was very pretty + i caught wind that the themes of the game were very resonant with people). i picked the movies over the game because i'm a guy who plays games at a snails pace, haha.

admittedly, i did latch onto ryomina because of the scenes in the third and fourth movie (i have mentioned in the tags of this art i drew how much i felt like i was exploding and blasting off to the moon watching it).

but what really dug me into the ryomina hole (and what has kept me there) was thinking about how much ryoji encapsulates the themes of p3- and how interconnected his fate is with minato. i wrote some musings about their dynamic here, if you're interested!

tl;dr: what if we were both boys and we were mirror images of each other and i inherited your kindness and looks but god doomed our narrative even though we're soulmates

on ryomina fanworks recommendations:

regarding fics: i'm going to assume that you've probably read the fics that have the highest kudo ratings on them, so i won't really be listing those.

a personal favorite fic that i always hold close to my heart is Eurydice's Vow by crescentmoontea, which explores the idea of ryomina in p5r's third semester. this was the first fic i read about ryomina and it made me tear up lots...

i also think a lot about I Alone Await You by Nail_gun, literally scrumptious writing that captures the ryomina dynamic so so well. actually check out Nail_gun's other ryomina fics while you're at it too!

other fun fic i'm fond of: can't get my mind out of those memories (what were they?) by foxmulder_whereartthou. ryoji being homeless lives rent free in my head and it's all because of this fic. there's a bunch of other fun ryominas from the same author too (i still need to read them)

BkZa555 also has some fun AU scenarios if you're into that too, notably with Zagreus (P5-Setting, Ryoji focus) and The Definition of Insanity (TIME LOOP fuckery!), but they're currently ongoing.

these were some ones that came to my mind first- as i have the strongest recollection reading them. admittedly i haven't really been reading fic this year, so i don't have many recommendations from fic that came out this year. but if you're so inclined to let ryomina consume your soul, i definitely recommend giving the newer works in the ryomina tag a look-see and see if it strikes your fancy!

as a side note, i do have a few ryomina fics that i've bookmarked on my ao3 here, though i have to say that i'm not sure how well they hold up in terms of like... what i would seek out of a fic these days. but they made past me happy so i bookmarked them, LOL. it's kind of outdated (my collection of fic recs has my old username *disintegrates*).

regarding doujinshi: i have not read all the ryomina doujinshi available, but as a starting point, please take a look at this list from pandora-scans from livejournal!

notably, this is where you can find the strawberry-chan say good bye doujin- which features a small and cute comic from shuji sogabe (the p3/p4 manga artist), as well as other artists. the existence of this doujinshi is the funniest thing to me because it's like "HEY if you're wondering what the volume 8 cover is really gay it's because sogabe contributed to a ryomina doujin." this fact makes my head spin (positive). it explains a lot about the manga.

regarding persona side material:

i know you didn't ask for these but i thought that i mine as well list these too, since i feel that the side materials have some fun expansions on ryoji and minato's interactions. i haven't... watched/read all of these but, hey, i like to share these things!

for comic anthologies for the persona series (some of which have ryoji!). if you're interested in reading them, here's a scanlation index from maboroshi-no on tumblr. i don't think this is a comprehensive list, but i think it will be a great starting point!

for some translations of the persona 3 drama cds, check out imaginary-numbers on dreamwidth! ryoji and minato interactions can specifically be found in the persona 3 character drama cd vol. 1, and for the audio + english subs, you can watch this video on youtube:

youtube

and ohh the musical. ryoji singing and dancing gives me so much joy. i haven't watched the musical in it's entirety (only fragments), but here are some links that may be of interest to you:

Ao no Kakusei (The Blue Awakening), Sakuya version - playlist for the first p3 musical, translated by Phoenix Maiika.

Ao no Kakusei (The Blue Awakening), Kotone version - playlist for the femc version!! also translated by Phoenix Maiika on YouTube.

Persona 3: The Weird Masquerade (English Subtitles) - playlist by rumio!

P3 Weird Musical DVD & Soundtrack Booklet Scans by rumio_k - twitter thread that links to these funsies, if you don't have twitter, here's the publicly shared drive link.

god. these sure are a lot of links, huh? i hope you enjoy them- pick and choose whatever sounds most appealing! (if this overwhelmed you im sorry GKLHLDH i just like being very comprehensive in my answers about things so i got carried away).

and as a reminder, you (and anyone else reading) are always welcome to browse my tags/archive and reblog things from there anytime! i have... nearly 300 ryomina posts which, while mostly consists of art, has a few fics, meta, hcs, gifs, memes, and whatnot scattered about.

or browse the minato and ryoji tags too! there's.. nearly 1k minato. and 500 ish ryoji. and they're going to keep on growing because i can't stop being obsessed with archiving these things. god help me i am so deep in this hole called ryomina hell and now you're here too. welcome aboard!

there's always going to be a lot of fun ways to enjoy rotating ryomina around in one's brain, i think- they're a pairing with such fun symbolic imagery that is So Deep (to me) but ALSO they're immensely hilarious and weird guys (affectionate). so i love to share these things in hopes that it gives you joy too! they are the most couple ever (to me) (i'm biased)

thank you again for the ask! i hope it can satiate your need for more ryomina, and be a nice aide in exploring the p3 fanspace :)

#ohhh do i even main tag this #fuck it we ball i'll tag it #lizzy askbox #persona 3 #ryomina #ryoji mochizuki #minato arisato #i'm in a bit of a hiatus in terms of like.. looking at new ryomina stuff outside of fan art so i haven't seen Everything #but i would like to get back to it when i can be more cognizant and present to appreciate them #the grind to being a ryomina encyclopedia never stops!#my files and links are all messy i can hardly keep track of all the ryomina things... maybe i just need to make a neocities-#like cat's souyo archive (cat is an inspiration to me)#but FUCK man ryomina is so good. thank you for the follow and sending me this ask #i'm very sorry about the excessive length i can't help myself i'm very dedicated to wanting to know lots of things about them #i had a lot of fun answering this!#times like this make me want to return to like. my fic recommendation collection.. i gotta rehaul that stuff tbh #maybe after i've seen all the ryomina stuff i can make a ryomina iceberg based on what i've seen peple talk about (or not talk about)#it'll be a long while though. i feel like i've hardly scratched the surface even though i wouldn't call myself a casual enjoyer #ANYWAY BYE. no one ever apologize to me about being excessive because I AM very excessive and repetitive. LOL. have a good morning? evening

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megumi-fm · 4 months

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this week on megumi.fm ▸ coding and coffeeshops

📋 Tasks

💻 Internship ↳ lab meet!!! got to learn about the other projects in the lab ↳ got work from home approved!! ↳ optimize protein seq code // account for missing residues ✅ ↳ add on a binding site identifier function for code using 4.5A distance threshold ✅ ↳ optimize binding site code // reducing time complexity for large PDB file inputs ✅ ↳ download and extract alphafold human protein repository and analyze pdb file formats ↳ set up progress tracker and upload code on colab ✅ 🎓 Uni ↳ Final Project: update images quality according to changes mentioned ✅ ↳ renew uni email for extra credit classes ✅ ↳ extra credit classes started this week! 🩺Radiomics Projects ↳ call with teammates to discuss next steps ✅ 📧 Application-related ↳ finished masters application form for 1/1 Uni (waiting on my referee reports) ✅ ↳ finalize referee report from my profs ✅

📅 Daily-s

🛌 consistent sleep [7/7] 💧 good water intake [5/7] 👟 exercise [5/7]

Fun Stuff this week

🍻 met up with my bestie @muakrrr <3 it was a stressful tuesday so meeting him for lunch was super comforting! he bought this cute purple drink and I got myself some ginger ale and the waiter served us the wrong drinks (gender and expectations something something) and it was amusing to watch them get confused when we corrected them 🎂 mom's b'day this week!! went out for dinner with her!! 🛒 went shopping with relatives who I haven't seen in years. bought myself a book! (rip my bookshelf) ☕ went out for coffee and dinner with my girlies (the same besties who I exchanged mugs with). we're trying to spend as much time together as possible before we leave to different countries for our masters 🎮 continuing the beginner's guide 📺 ongoing: Marry my Husband, Cherry Magic Th, Last Twilight 📺 binged: KinnPorsche The Series

📻 This week's soundtrack

Love Wins All by IU (been crying over this music video for days now. it's beautiful) KinnPorsche theme by Slot Machine: Kinn's theme [aka Phiang Waichai; TH] | Porche's theme [aka Free Fall; Eng] (first of all this is one of the catchiest theme songs to exist second only to SPECIALZ aka the JJK s2 op i'm also particularly losing my mind over how the two themes are love letters to the main characters from each other... the narrative parallels of it all are driving me insane sldkhlaksjkshs) Dum Dum by Jeff Satur + the Live Unchained version where his vocals are heavenly (maybe im so drawn to this song because the chorus is similar to the melodic motifs of the KPTS themes/soundtrack, either way, the show introduced me to him and god. I've been voraciously consuming his discography.) Ghost by Jeff Satur (on repeat all week. thoroughly obsessed with this song- the lyricism, his voice, the storyline in the MV, his acting, everything. wow. truly.)

---

[Jan 22 to 28 ; week 4/52 || I. love. my. internship. like. I have been having the most fun time problem solving and troubleshooting. it's also super satisfying to see the outcome of my code. it's been a while since I used python (I've been coding on C) so I forget that python has a lot of inbuilt functions that would do the same tasks I inadvertently entrust my nested loops with, and finding out about them is always so joyous (although it means I have to scrap off several chunks of code). i am a bit annoyed though, because the other intern isn't really doing any work that we're entrusted with so I'm having to carry the team and it's taking me too much time. but oh well. I've suggested we split tasks from next week, hopefully that'll make things better.

I've also been procrastinating a lot when it comes to my masters applications and it really hit me this week when I had to run to uni several times to get things approved and completed. Now that I'll get to work from home I need to set up a proper schedule to get application work completed wayy in advance. also need to resume my GRE prep from next week.]

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good-beans · 7 months

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YES thank you @kyanako5972 for your service 😤👏 (I was actually looping them both for a bit but I keep forgetting to run it lately ah...)

And hehe I have been ✨enabled ✨Have some Triage thoughts, and feel free to add your own!!

Starting off with my main praise of the song: “I want to be Innocent, I want to live.” I know the point of milgram is that all the characters are going to get worse, but I feel like this video is the first t2 song we’ve seen a prisoner get better. (People have talked about his savior complex being an issue but that’s coming after the inno verdict, in Triage he specifically says he never wanted this to be some kind of hostage situation where he has the power to save/kill people.) This is when we can finally see one of our verdicts go right. The others had an issue, or creeping guilt, or uncertainty, but Shidou gets over any uncertainty right then and there – he wants to live again!! In a series so full of death, in which half of the cast makes some reference to suicidal thoughts, plus two victims who did commit suicide, there’s something extremely profound about seeing one of them change their mind onscreen. We hadn’t gotten a moment of healing like that before, and I doubt we’re ever going to get one again.

The moment itself is shown very accurately and beautifully, in my opinion. His expression when he makes his statement about wanting to live is so unique. It’s not a smile, it’s not a grimace, it’s something in between. His voice is strained, but set. He’s not excited about it – when you’re in that mental place, it isn’t a cheery switch to wanting to live, it’s a grit-your-teeth and pick yourself up and make the tough choice. It’ll be so, so hard but by god you have a job to do. It made sense, given all the previous mentions of him helping Fuuta and Mahiru – he had a lot of complicated feelings about being a doctor, but he remembered that saving others really is his purpose in life.

And then the shock factor. Because of that moment and the family reveal, I think this video had the biggest twist of t2. The others had surprises, sure, but they were hinted at in the voice clips and vds, or they just exaggerated things we already knew about the characters. I was completely blindsided by Triage. Everything leading up to it paralleled Shidou with Mahiru, so I thought it was just a lover he’d lost (and maybe someone he’d just met or something). He had his moments with Amane, but I always assumed it was because of her connection to him, not vice versa. I assumed he was just overdramatic and killing people for some lady he’d fallen for, and then decided to take the easy way out and ask for death. So to find out he had a fully established family, wife and two kids??? To see his main character trait from season one was completely reversed??? (but in a way that wasn’t at all forced???)

Now, it’s much easier to make a character unlikable than it is to redeem them. We saw how quickly the fandom turned on certain characters, we felt pangs of horror for many of them. But it’s very difficult to make someone like a character they’d previously despised. Which is why I’m insanely impressed with the way those three minutes could undo months of my hatred toward Shidou, and bring me literally to tears over him. Suddenly his actions weren’t so selfish, as rash. He’s not taking the coward’s way out. He had incredibly good reason to do what he did, and now he’s taking accountability and choosing to face pain in order to atone. I’ll add more in a sec, but it’s not even that the video shows him as this perfect saint. Without holding back on everything he’d done wrong, it conveyed a real, grieving human that really moved me.

Of course the music itself was amazing – Shugo Nakamura sounds incredible. I don’t know too much about actual music structure, but the tone of both Shidou’s songs manages to be so fun and relaxing while simultaneously filling you with that profound sadness. It’s like an embodiment of his peaceful, sad smile. There’s something so human about his voicemail message, and it’s unique hearing different types of speaking parts in a song! But that moment is also foreboding. You wonder why he missed the call, and who’s calling, and you kind of already know, and you hear the three beeps as the line is dead. Then there’s the gut-wrenching return of those sounds, with the added visuals bringing to mind a dying heart?? Insane.

And lastly, the visuals are gorgeous. Bringing back the flower/pomegranate symbolism in a similar but new way was perfect. The bright scenery and picturesque scenes really emphasized how happy he was. The video is so bright. His family is gorgeous, they’re happy. His neighborhood is sunny and warm. His house is comfortable and light. Which meant the dark scenes contrasted perfectly, driving home how jarring his loss was. And despite all the good things I said about him before, the video isn’t actually trying to paint him in an innocent light. There are literal graveyards behind him, showing how much blood is on his hands. The rotting food is such a disgustingly painful way to show what he was doing to people. He handed the tag directly to his son, showing full accountability: he gave his son his fate, he killed him himself. The images seem beautiful at first, especially compared to AKAA’s dark, bloody rooms, Backdraft’s grim tunnel, and INMF’s monstrous bees. But no matter how lovely it looks, it successfully conveys a truly horrendous crime.

In conclusion Shidou my fucking beloved. Go watch Triage again :3

#milgram #shidou kirisaki #i hope you dont mind the tag but ty!#LMAO im so sorry for the ramblings 😅#this video is genuinely so special to me and as always i got carried away talking about it adfsdf #i can admit my initial sympathy to him was biased by being in a tight mental spot right when it came out #so to hear him speak those lines actually made me cry oops #but even being distanced from that mental state i have such a strong appreciation for the whole thing #although i might call some other songs my favorites no other video had such an effect on me #i sat down and immediately wrote a fic about it #then i wrote (and sang??) translyrics to it that im still really proud of #and it can still get me really emotional no matter how many bazillion times ive listened throughout the months #just an amazing mv #rose posts

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 2 years

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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga yet, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 65... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

OH MY GOSH...!! THIS CHAPTER!!! 😱😱😱

Okay... Before I start going crazy about THAT ENDING, I'm going to start by sharing my initial reactions and discussing the chapter as a whole...

First things first, this chapter was not initially about Anya like I thought it would be... But instead, it was all about Yor!! 😁

And since this chapter was about Yor, it delve into more of her worries about being "normal"... Which always makes me sad... 😔

You deserve the world, Yor...!! ❤

Continuing on, as Yor is out shopping, we are shown this woman and servant... And when I saw this panel, I knew that she was going to be important...!! I just didn't know how! 😅

As the woman is heading up the stairs, she suddenly trips and is about to fall...!! But luckily, Yor was there to help!! 😄

Amazed by her rescuer's skills, the woman offers Yor to come and join her for a rousing game of volleyball!! 😆

Which means that every member of the Forger family (except Bond) has been involved a sport...!! Which makes me laugh!! 😂

It turns though, this wasn't just a regular volleyball thing... It was an All-Mothers Volleyball League!! 😲 Which also had thinking that maybe some of these women were the mothers of some the Eden Academy kids...!! 🤔 Which, yet again, I didn't know for sure...!! 😅

Anyway, I kinda stop theorizing and just had so much fun watching Yor play volleyball with these other mothers!! 😄 There was so many great scenes in the volleyball match that wish I could put in here (y'know because of the 10 image limit), but I think my favorite has to be THIS:

GODDAMN YOR...!! 🤣

After all was said and done, Yor and the other mothers went out together...!! They asked her a few questions and Yor started to talk about how she doesn't know what's she supposed to do as mother or a wife... But, the women reassured Yor that none of them know what their doing either, which really warmed my heart...!!! 💗 But then...

THIS HAPPENED...:

I was like: "Wait...!! does that mean--"

AND THEN, THIS:

MY REACTION TO THE ENDING OF CH. 65:

OH MY GOD!!! WHAT!?

This chapter completely threw me for loop!! 😵 First I thought this chapter was going to be about Anya, then I thought it was just going to be a fun little chapter, and now... MY MIND IS BLOWN!!! 😲 I now have like 20 theories going on in my head...!! So here's a few:

Could Melinda be actual true mastermind and not Donovan?

Does Melinda know more about the Forger than she lets on?

If she does know more about the Forger family, could she possibly be the one ask Yor to assassinate Twilight?

Can she read minds like how some people believe that Donovan can?

Is Demetrius Desmond also apart of this?

These are only some of my thoughts but you get the idea... It's funny because I was actually going to write theory (more of a speculation) about Demetrius and how he might be working with his dad...! But now with Melinda Desmond showing up, a new can of worms has just opened up!! 🤔

Anyway, this chapter was freaking amazing and I can't wait to see what happens next!! 😆 Until the next Mission!! Peace!! ✌😎

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #yor forger #anya forger #damian desmond #donovan desmond #melinda desmond #THIS CHAPTER!!!#THAT ENDING!!!#😱😱😱😱😱#Thoery Mode Level: EXTREME!!!#demetrius desmond #ENDO YOU'VE DONE AGAIN!!!#spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #manga spoilers #Mission 65

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krystaldeath · 2 months

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Cult of The Lamb hc’s (part of me feels like I should wait till I play the game myself - or watch a full playthrough at least - before I “solidify” these but meh. For now at least these are how I see things):

* Kinda typical hc I feel like but Leshy is the youngest, then it’s Heket, Narinder, Kallamar, and then Shamura is the oldest.

* Idk what their ages would be chronologically wise but my personal hc’s for “biological” age are: Leshy (21), Heket (25), Narinder (27), Kallamar (32), and Shamura (40). I think Lamb is about 200 years chronologically but 28 “biologically” (I think it’s funny if they’re “older” than Narinder)

* I don’t have a name for them yet but my version of the Yellow Cat is a little bit fucked up actually. Like they seem chill and they kinda are? But they’ve got a body count. And no not the sex kind. Think of that one audio where the guy answers the body count with 30 and when it’s clarified that it’s about sex he’s like “Oh well I haven’t done that yet!” And the other persons like “WHAT DOES 30 MEAN THEN???”

* I need y’all to know I project onto The Lamb HARD. So yeah, they always wanted to be kind and sorta made it a big part of their personality. Unfortunately their world and circumstances just doesn’t allow for their kindness. They still try to be as kind as they can be, but it’s hard when you’re slowly ascending to godhood, especially into the god of death.

* Also Agender Lamb. They/Them and ONLY They/Them Lamb all the way. Demi ro & sex & pan. They’re a?ab (assigned ??? At birth; bc I can’t decide but if you MUST know I think they can shapeshift a bit now so. Maybe they forgot themself lol). Presents androgynously, leaning either way whenever they feel like it. They have a more masc voice though I think, like the ones people use in comic dubs a lot.

* Once I figure out how to draw (could stop it there I am Rusty) anthropomorphic animals it’s over for y’all (Translation: I will draw my self insert and The Lamb being kinda fucked up Besties)

* ((PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY SELF INSERT AND OTHER OC INSERTS I HAVE FOR THIS THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL))

* The cotl fandom is filled with queer people who’ve got some level of religious trauma, let me recommend a recent song I’ve been looping and imagining a cotl/narilamb animatic to: Collared by Vane Lily (look it up on YouTube to watch the fun mv first!) WARNING IT IS HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE

* I’ve been flip flopping a bit on what species she’d be but I have ideas for a follower love interest for Heket! At first I thought a bunny, then a bee, and currently feeling like a bat would be cute. Idk but I do see her as a warrior type who also likes to bake and do cutesy things too

* I think once the bishops become followers their injuries are worse but they can still “work” around them: Leshy can kinda see things if they’re up close. Heket can sorta speak but not fast and she’s got. Well not a sore throat bc. She doesn’t have one of those anymore. But something akin to that constantly. Kallamar can only hear loud things or if someone spoke into his ear directly (he only allows those in his polycule and his siblings (minus Narinder) to get that close). Shamura does get a bit lost in their own mind, and even when they’re more conscious their memory is spotty.

* Back to my Yellow Cat being a bit fucked up: They actually really liked the idea of chaos (though they hardly show it) so when they find out Leshy was the bishop of chaos instead of being scared or unnerved they’re like “*twirls hair (fur??)* ha ha ha, omg, really~?”

* *slaps the top of The Lamb, Leshy, and probably so many others don’t underestimate me* these bitches can fit so much adhd (+ autism probably) in them

* Probably (geez I use that word a lot huh?) got more hc’s, especially for other characters, but this is already pretty long so I’ll leave it here for now

#cult of the lamb #cotl headcanons #I would tag as narilamb or leshycat but I mean… I didn’t really get into either of them in this lol #my posts #cotl oc #kinda??? I mention my self insert and such #to entice you to ask about them: They’re a blonde long furred cat that has an extra set of arms that are bat arms #wanna know why? ask :3c #please

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film-in-my-soul · 1 year

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Fandom Fic Rec: Throw Back Edition

I'm making a game cause I'm bored, and I've been thinking about old fandoms I've been in and the fics that have left an impression on me! So here are the rules:

Chose 5 fandoms you are no longer active in (as in actively participating/creating in), and then chose 1 fic for each fandom that's stuck with you. Tag 5 people when you're done!

(Of course, if you're not tagged, you're welcome to play. I just think it's fun to do a little fandom digging and share some blasts from the past :3)

1. Fandom: Harry Potter | Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Forgive Those Who Trespass by: Lomonaaeren (AO3)

This fic is filled with heavy and disturbing subject matter, so if you check it out please mind the tags and then expect a little worse. Still, it's a highly captivating story, and the pacing is phenomenal. I love this writer a lot, actually, and when I was actively reading Drarry it turns out they wrote a lot of the ones I enjoyed.

2. Fandom: Law & Order: SVU | Pairing: Rafael Barba/Sonny Carisi

Good Morning by: @poipoi1912 | Kaye_21 (AO3)

I'm pretty sure, aside from the credit I give the TG fandom. This was actually my first introduction to the time loop concept. It's one I come back to, ironically, over and over again. I love pretty much everything about it, to the point where I once asked to do a podfic (and boy howdy did that slip through my fingers .-., rip to non-planning Alex of old) of the piece because I loved it so much!

3. Fandom: Star Trek (2009) | Paring: Leonard McCoy/Pavel Chekov

The Gap Between (Fanfic.net) by: McStories (Fanfic.net)

Talk about an age gap with this one (ties back into the title actually) and a rarepair at that. I don't even remember what fic got me into this pairing, though I know who to blame for dragging me into it. This fic runs the gauntlet of characters having misconceptions, preconceived notions, and learning how to get the fuck over themselves. I love this fic to pieces. It's one of the few I've read multiple times, and if you're open to the ship I highly recommend giving this one a shot. There is heavy subject matter, however, so be mindful.

4. Fandom: Teen Wolf | Paring: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

(not so) Pure Imagination by: @halekingsourwolf / @theroguesrandom | theroguesgambit (AO3)

The concept in this fic was the first time I'd ever seen it done, and god, is it done well. It's fun and sexy and filled with a glorious amount of guilt and pining. Wonderful all the way through and one of the few Sterek fics that immediately comes to mind! If you're into Sterek and you haven't read this please do yourself a favor and go on!

5. Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis | Pairing: John Shepard/Rodney McKay

know how to fall by Auburn (Website)

With the downfall of old personally owned/hosted fanfic site, in the dark ages before AO3 and Fanfiction.net, where LiveJournal was really poppin', it's an honest to god shame how many amazing fanfictions have been lost to the cruel ways of the internet, and no fandom for me has been hit as hard as the Stargate: Atlantis fandom. I was so happy to see that this fic lived on with Auburn's personally maintained archive, and I hope that some of you get a chance to read this fic as well as some others from this author.

Tagging: @thestarlitnight @blackestglass @yikes-00 @kd-heart @cristinuke

(please do not feel like you need to have yours look like this; I am just very extra)

((also, rip to everyone in [REDACTED] who has seen these links over the last few months already <3))

#sterek #mcchekov #barisi #drarry #mcshep #fic rec #multifandom fic rec #rec game #tag game

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

REBEL SUNS - CHAPTER ONE

series masterlist | main masterlist

summary: cassian finds something familiar in the mud, and gets much more than he bargained for.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, *SPOILERS FOR ANDOR*, light-ish to start! descriptions of canon-typical violence, injuries, blood, talk of the rebellion and the empire, luthen is an enigma and cassian is a little bewildered.

a/n: and off we go! god, I am having so much fun writing this story, and I’m honestly so proud of it. I’m probably gonna cross-post this on ao3 as well (who is she), but any and all comments are appreciated, and my askbox is always open 🤍

✨I no longer have a taglist! if you’d like to be notified of future works (and chapter updates!), please follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

Someone’s following you.

They’re not being subtle about it, that’s what worries you most.

You don’t recognize the face, mostly shadowed by the hood pulled over their head, obscuring the eyes. There’s a thick scar over the mouth, an unforgiving expression. You see the blaster at their belt, the hands curled into fists. You can outrun them, if you’re smart about it. If you can make it just a few more blocks, there’s a path you can take, one that’ll take you down under the sewer system, spit you out the other side of the city. If you can just get there then—

Something hard smacks against the back of your head, and the world goes dark.

He doesn’t have time for this.

People are waiting for him. Luthen is waiting, back on the ship. He had a job to do, and he’s done it. Now, it’s time to go back. To go home. Well, wherever home happens to be for the time being.

But you’re in his way. Not purposely; he nearly tripped right over you in his haste to get back to the landing pad. It’s pouring rain — not uncommon for Arkanis — and it’s left his boots caked in mud, his hair plastered to his skull. It’s cold, enough so that his teeth chatter as he stumbles over your boot, catches himself on the rail before turning back to see what broke his step.

He thinks you’re dead, at first. You’re not moving, face-down in the mud, sprawled on the edge of the path and draped in a soaked coat. He spies the blaster on your hip, the spot of blood on your upturned cheek. Your eye is ringed with a blackening bruise, and Cassian’s eyes travel up before he sees it, half-clutched in your grasp, the gold chain still looped around your wrist, the familiar blue crystal smeared with dirt.

Sky kyber.

Maybe he does have time for this.

It’s odd enough, finding a body dumped at the edge of the path like this. It’s far from the city itself, out of the way and leading to the landing pad tucked behind storage buildings. That’s why Luthen picked it: obscurity. But the spot you’re in, the fact that you’re face-down, bloodied and beaten, it makes his brow crease. Someone must have dumped you; there’s no other tracks in the mud, no other signs of a struggle.

The crystal is warm as he pulls it from your limp grasp. He lets his fingers skirt your wrist, checks for a pulse, holds his breath until he feels it. He jams the kyber in his pocket, stuffing the chain in with it. He’d left it with Vel, after Aldhani. He never expected to see it again. And last they’d been informed, Vel was laying low on Chandrila, so…how did you get your hands on it?

For a moment, he nearly leaves you. He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t owe you anything. You’re carrying stolen property, as far as he’s concerned. Why should he help?

His mother’s voice in the back of his mind has him crouching at your side, rolling you carefully into his grasp, throwing your arm around his neck.

You’re dead weight, and he grits his teeth as he stands. The rain is coming harder now, and it splatters your face, smearing the blood and dirt. You don’t so much as flinch, and it worries him for a moment; you still have a heartbeat, but that doesn’t mean you’ll survive.

Cassian tries to catalogue your injuries as he carries you back. Besides the black eye and the bloody cheek, there’s a mark around your throat, one that looks unmistakably like a hand. Someone choked you, or tried to.

If there’s anything else, he can’t see it. You’re weighed down more by the heavy jacket around your shoulders, zipped to your sternum, a belt across your chest. He should have checked you for weapons, he realizes too late, but huffs quietly, cursing Maarva’s voice in his mind as he continues down the path.

You do what’s right, Cassian. You always have.

The ramp to the Fondor lowers as soon as he’s within sight, and Luthen pokes his head out a moment later. Cassian’s used to him by now, the gruff orders, the demanding demeanour. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. The Rebellion needs men like him, Cassian knows.

But he’s never seen the old man shocked. And as he walks up the ramp, you curled against his chest, that’s exactly what he sees.

“What…?”

“I found her,” Cassian says, pushing past Luthen, stepping onto the ship, “face-down in the mud. She’s injured, I don’t know how bad. Someone must have dumped her.”

The ramp whirs as it lifts again, the doors sliding closed. Luthen is pale, his eyes wide. Cassian lays you out on the passenger’s seats. “So you decided to bring her back here? We don’t…” He trails off, swallows thickly. “We don’t even know who she is. What she is.”

Cassian stares at his companion a long moment. Up until now, he’s never had a reason to doubt Luthen. He took the man for what he was, what he made clear he had set out to be. But looking at him now, the lie is plain on his face.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says simply, narrowing his eyes at the old man. “You know exactly who she is.”

“I—”

If he was going to lie again, the words die on the old man’s tongue as Cassian fishes the stone from his pocket, gripping the chain and letting it dangle, holding it between the two of them. “I found this in her hand. I left this with Vel. After Aldhani, after I took what I was owed. You told me it was important. Vel would not have given this to someone without reason, would she?”

Luthen says nothing, eyes flicking between the blue crystal and your unmoving form.

“Would she?”

The old man sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. He won’t look at Cassian, but snags the kyber from him, shoving it in the pocket of his cloak.

“Who is she, Luthen?”

He takes a few steps back, puts some distance between him and Cassian. He leans against the wall of the ship, crossing his arms over his chest. Luthen says your name, the syllables sounding heavy on his tongue. It’s obvious he hasn’t spoken of you in a long time. “She’s a fence. Best one in the Outer Rim. Before Aldhani, the Rebellion was funded only by quiet senators fed up with the Emperor’s power, wealthy families who wanted to do their part. Sure, we have more than enough criminals at our disposal, mercenaries and the like, but most of them barely have enough credits to get themselves by, never mind fund a Rebellion. It wasn’t enough.

“Then I found her. In a market on Tatooine, selling jewelry that had once belonged to Queen Amidala. Legitimate stuff, too, no fakes. She tried to run when I approached her at first, thought I was ISB. Her family was taken, you see, her brothers conscripted to the Imperial Army, their parents killed. She was just trying to make her way across the galaxy, hoping to find a lead on her brothers, trying to make a name for herself on the black markets. Lots of powerful people there, you know. Lots of names, lots of faces, lots of favours owed.”

Cassian just stares at Luthen. “Where did she get the jewels?”

Luthen huffs a laugh. “You know, I never asked.”

“So you hired her.”

“Enlisted, more like it.” He pulls the kyber from his pocket, lets it lay in his palm. “I told her I would help her find her brothers in exchange for her work. I found the items to sell, artifacts, jewels, weapons, what have you. She stole them, sold them, and the money was funnelled back into the Rebellion.”

“Until Aldhani.”

“Before that,” Luthen continues, staring down at the stone. “There was a collector, on Hoth. Had a slew of kyber, signets and the like, bits of the Old World, remnants of the Jedi. Stubborn old fool, but he was willing to negotiate, and she was up for the challenge. I took her there, waited. He’d only give her the Kuati signet, but she took it, paid him for it, started to head back. Until a squad of Troopers showed up, one of the Emperor’s lackeys seeking the same thing we were. She tried to get back, I tried to meet her halfway, but they were everywhere, swarming from all sides. The planet, it’s all ice and snow, steep cliffs and ledges. She caught a blaster bolt in the side, went toppling over the edge. I tried to grab her, but she slipped away.” He pinches the kyber between his fingers, holding it up to the light. “Leaving me with this. I thought she was gone.”

“You didn’t look very hard,” an unfamiliar voice says, and Cassian whips his head in your direction, eyes widening as he sees you move to sit up, gripping your side with gritted teeth. You spit blood onto the floor, wipe at your reddened lips. Your knuckles are bruised, which he hadn’t noticed, and you lean your head back against the wall once you’re upright, eyes narrowing at Luthen. “Tell me you have bacta. Or med-nog.” You wince, adjusting slightly. “Or both.”

“Cassian, get the kit,” Luthen answers, waving a hand in his direction. Cassian does as he’s told, watching from the corner of his eye as he heads for the compartment where the med kit is. Luthen stuffs the kyber back in his pocket and crosses the distance to you, dropping into a crouch in front of you.

“I thought you were gone,” he says to you, and Cassian hears your sharp inhale.

“Well, I wasn’t.” He glances over his shoulder as you wince again, eyes squeezing shut. “I clung to the edge of the fucking cliff for hours, waiting for the Troopers to leave. Couldn’t feel my fingers.”

Cassian balks, turning back to the wall. A memory swims to the surface of his mind; him and Melshi, clinging to the cliffs on Narkina-5, Melshi’s heavy accent barking at him that he couldn’t feel his hands, that he couldn’t climb back up. Tell me they’re leaving.

“You fell.”

“Not very far,” you throw back, and he hears you huff. “Honestly, Luthen, do we really need to dissect this? I’m alive, no thanks to you, but Maker, this hurts.”

“Cassian!” Luthen barks. “The kit!”

Startling, he pulls the entire kit out of the compartment, setting the large box on the floor and sliding it across to Luthen. You’re glaring at Luthen, your eyes fiery.

“The med-nog is in the cockpit,” he tells Cassian, who just nods, trying to shake the memory from his head, rubbing a palm over his cheek before stalking towards the front of the ship.

As he steps through the door, he hears you: “Who is he?”

Luthen’s response, clearly said with a smile: “A Rebel.”

He snags the flask from where it’s tucked in the side of the pilot’s chair, heading back to you quickly. Luthen’s tending to your injuries, helping you shrug out of your jacket, and Cassian takes it, holding it for a long moment, not quite sure what to do with it. He just watches as Luthen cuts away part of your shirt, baring your injured side. It looks like blaster burn, and he covers it with a bacta patch, giving you a cold pack for your eye, inspecting the shallow cut on your cheek.

You wince hard when he wraps your middle in bandages, keeping the bacta in place on your side, and Cassian remembers the metal flask in his hand, stepping forward to hand it to you. Your fingers brush as you take it from him, your one visible eye crinkling at the corner. “Thank you.”

He just nods.

You keep staring at him, cold pack held to your blackened eye. “I heard about Aldhani,” you say simply, jutting your chin towards Luthen as he gathers the kit and goes to put it away. “It’s all anyone could talk about a few weeks back. That was you?”

“Sort of,” Cassian says, realizing he’s still holding your jacket. “I should…I’ll clean this for you.” He turns on his heel, heading towards the fresher at the back of the Fondor, and you call after him.

“Wait,” you yelp, leaning forward, wincing when it irks your side. “Shit, this hurts.” You take a swig of the med-nog. “There’s a holo-pad in the pocket,” you say, gesturing towards the jacket, “and my blasters.”

He walks back to you, steps close enough until you can reach into the dripping jacket, pulling out a holo-pad, two more blasters, a pouch of credits, a vibro-blade. Once your belongings are piled beside you, the holo-pad resting in your lap, you lift your gaze to his again, a half-smile on your mouth.

“Thank you, Cassian,” you say, and Cassian stutters, realizing Luthen told you his name before he could decide if he wanted to use a fake or not, “for saving me.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, jutting a thumb over his shoulder, “Luthen, he was the one who—”

“Luthen left me for dead a long time ago,” you say, your face pinching for a moment before it softens again, though the slight wince of pain remains. “Not many men would find someone laying in the mud with kyber crystal and not just leave them there. So, thank you.”

Cassian swallows so hard he can feel his throat bob. His eyes are locked to yours. “You’re welcome.”

“Who was it,” Luthen calls, breaking the strange tension that has formed between you, “that attacked you?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, and Cassian takes it as his cue to go, heading for the fresher again.

It’s easy enough to wipe the mud from the outer layer of your jacket, the fabric waterproof and tough. It’s lined with durasteel in a few places, he realizes, chest plates and curves around where your ribs would be. Once he’s done with your jacket, he tends to himself, cleans the mud from his boots and his own jacket, shakes the rainwater from his hair. He can still hear you and Luthen, the thin door to the fresher doing little to muffle your voices.

“Was it someone you’ve stolen from?” Luthen asks you. “Someone you’ve sold to?”

“I told you, I don’t know.” You’re exasperated, clearly. “It’s wasn’t anyone I recognized, and you know me, Luthen. I know every face I’ve ever worked, sold or stolen.”

“So it was a hired hand. And they grabbed you in broad daylight?”

Silence. He wonders if you’re glaring at the old man. You seem to have a penchant for it. A heavy breath. “Knocked me out right in the middle of the city. People don’t get involved here. People don’t get involved anywhere, not since P.O.R.D.” Cassian grits his teeth, leaning against the door. “They took me to some warehouse — no, I don’t know where, before you ask. Questioned me for a few hours,” a harsh wince, “beat the shit out of me.”

“Questioned you on what?”

You let out a watery laugh, and the sound is so laced with pain that it fills Cassian’s chest with pity.

“The Rebellion. They wanted to know what I knew.” Another silence. “I didn’t tell them anything, Luthen, so don’t even think about asking.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to read people, old man.”

Cassian has to stifle his laugh. You’re fiery.

“Cassian said the kyber was in your hand.”

“It was,” you confirm. “Once they decided to release me, they said they’d take me back. I put it around my wrist to keep it hidden. I’ve been desperate, Luthen; the plan was to sell it once I got back to the city, but instead, they shot me in the side and knocked me out again, dumped me on the side of the road, and I woke up here.” A huff, almost a laugh. “Imagine my surprise.”

“Vel gave it to you?” Luthen asks. “You saw her?”

“I was on Chandrila for a few weeks,” you reply. “Lots of wealth to spread around there, but I’m sure you know that.”

“Watch it.”

“I want it back.” A pause. “The kyber, Luthen. It’s mine, by rights.”

“What rights?”

“You left me for dead, took off from that fucking planet without so much as confirming if there was a body or not. I nearly got myself killed finding it. It’s mine.”

“It’s worth—”

“I know what it’s worth,” you bite. “Give it back.”

There’s some shuffling, the quiet clink of metal, a low sigh. “I never meant to abandon you on Hoth. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Another pause, the sound of boots on the floor. “Luthen?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you trust him?”

“He can hear you, you know.”

“I’m aware.”

Luthen’s smile has returned, it’s evident in his voice. “As much as I trust you.” The old man gives a little laugh. “You two will probably get along, you know. Two of the more tragic lifetimes I’ve known.”

You laugh in return. “Is that so?”

More silence follows, and then Cassian hears the loud whir of the Fondor’s engine sparking to life. He steps out of the fresher, your mostly cleaned jacket in one hand, pushing his other through his wet hair. You’re sat in the same spot, the ice pack still pressed to your eye, but he catches the flash of gold at your throat, the kyber crystal evidently tucked down the front of your shirt.

“Thanks,” you say quietly when Cassian hands you your jacket, letting it sit on top of the pile of your stuff. The holo-pad is still in your lap, a man’s face illuminating the screen.

“Who is that?” he asks, moving to sit in the seat next to you, reaching for the buckles. You reach for your own, but your face pinches in a wince and Cassian stops to help you, guiding the straps over your arms carefully, avoiding your injuries best he can.

“My brother,” you answer, settling back against the seat as he tightens your straps.

“Luthen said they were taken,” he says, brow pinching as he leans back in his own seat. “Conscripted?”

Biting your lip, you nod, looking down at the holo-pad. “I had three brothers, before. Parents, a home, pets, the whole deal. Now it’s just me and him.” You rest your hand on the screen, tapping a finger against your brother’s outline. “Everyone else is dead.”

“That’s why you joined the Rebellion?”

You nod once, and then, “I have to find him. Somehow.”

“And you think Luthen will help you do that?”

You scoff. “Luthen only does what’s in the best interest of the Rebellion. I know that. But, doing what I do puts me in contact with a lot of…interesting people. And if that’s what I have to do to find my brother, then so be it.” You look at him slowly, lowering the ice pack. “Why did you join?”

“It’s like you said,” he replies, “everyone else is dead. And this? This is the only thing that’s ever made any sense to me.”

“Fighting?”

He nods. “If we don’t fight back, what chance do we have? What hope is there?”

The corner of your mouth quirks, eyes shining. “Rebellions are built on hope.”

#rebel suns #my fics #cassian andor #cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor smut #cassian andor angst #cassian andor fluff #andor fic #andor fanfiction #cassian andor x female reader #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #rogue one fic #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #andor #tw: death #tw: torture

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