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melobin · 5 days

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rules 𐙚 sungchan ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

warnings. best friend!sungchan, protected sex, unprotected sex, some mentions of oral (m receiving), mentions of masturbation, porn with plot.

wc. 7.7k

summary. you and your best friend sungchan end up having sex, but not without setting some rules first.

you felt your head spin as you looked down at sungchan beneath you, his chest raising rapidly against your hands as you sank down on his cock again, repeating the pace you had set a few moments prior. there was already a sheet of sweat covering his toned body, strands of his fringe sticking to his forehead as the rest of his hair stuck up messily from the way you were pulling on it earlier on.

despite how physically pleasuring the situation was, both on your body and your eyes, you still found yourself in disbelief of the position the two of you were in. sungchan was your best friend, he had been for over a decade. you grew up together, did everything together. pretty much every friend you both had was because of the other one, everyone knew you two as a pair.

you shared intimacy, spent nights together where you laughed and fell asleep leaning against one another, sungchan comforted you with his big arms and a slightly oversized tub of ice cream after your first break up and you done the same back after he failed his driving test - three times over. yet, your shared intimacy never went past anything platonic, it had simply never occurred between the two of you. until a few weeks ago that is.

it was normal for your friends to eventually meet sungchan, and it wasn’t that uncommon for them to find him attractive. you were used to the hushed whispers into your ear about how tall and handsome he was, whispers that you always replied to with an eye roll and a playful suck of your teeth. you knew sungchan was handsome, but it wasn’t something you ever paid too much attention to. you had no reason to. but your friends always did.

sungchan always gave the same response when you told him about your friends lusting over him, he laughed and brushed it off, not wishing to entertain your friends or feed into their desires.

“are you sure you’re not celibate?”

“fuck no” sungchan was absolutely not celibate, your friends just didn’t do it for him. you couldn’t have guessed who did even if you tried, and you did try.

“what about giselle?”

“no”

“mimi?”

“no”

“wonbin?”

“maybe” you hummed tilting your head to the side and looking towards the boy you mentioned who was sat across at the room at the bar.

“i don’t blame you”

“what?” sungchan’s voice took you out of your trance, you looked over at him and smiled.

“he’s cute but you couldn’t pay me to get with one of your friends” he began to argue but stopped himself, he didn’t want you to get with one of them either.

“why do you question me so much about me not wanting to get with your friends?”

“they’re all pretty girls and well, you’re a man” sungchan shook his head and laughed.

“yeah a man who doesn’t want to sleep around and end up with an std, plus my sexual interest is elsewhere” you cocked your head to the head and narrowed your eyes, about to question him once again but being stopped by your name being called from a few metres away.

sungchan would not admit to you that his sexual interest lay with you, sungchan thought you were insanely beautiful. irresistible. he would sell a piece of his soul just to be able to explore your body from head to toe, he’d worship every inch of you and make sure he makes you cum harder than anyone else ever has or ever will. sungchan adored you and had far too much respect for you to ever use you for sex or hurt you in anyway, so he kept his desires to himself, always finding it hilarious when you told him about your friends wishes to get close to him because he knew none of you were aware that whilst they were after him, he was laying in bed at night with his hand wrapped around his cock and you filling his brain. sungchan was certain he knows exactly how you’d moan, he’s pretty much perfected the fantasy in his head.

each time you told him about one of your friends, sungchan entertained the thought in his head but it always faded quickly, he was too awestruck over you. sungchan felt pussy drunk without ever even fucking you. he was sure things would get better if he just had you once, but he never felt like it was something he should bring upm not wanting to cause any discomfort or awkwardness in your friendship. the last time one of your friends showed interest in sungchan and he shot them down he promised himself he’d at least try with the next one, just to see if he could get his mind to focus on something that wasn’t you, he didn’t think it would work but he was sure it wouldn’t hurt to try.

that’s when sungchan met yujin, that very night that you were questioning him about being celibate. sungchan wasn’t blind, yujin was gorgeous but she was suffering the same fate that the rest of your friends did, she wasn’t you. sungchan could have hit himself for thinking it right away without even attempting to get to know her, so he gave it a chance. later that night

when you messaged sungchan saying yujin thought he was cute, he entertained it, told you it was okay for you to pass along his number to her and he actually spoke to her. he still found you creeping into his thoughts when he wrapped his hand around his cock that night, but that was just a work in progress, he was sure he would get past it once he spoke to her more.

he didn’t.

despite speaking to yujin none stop, her always being the second contact in his messaging app; you being the first due to your chat being pinned, sungchan still spent every single night thinking about you. he’d end phone calls with yujin and lay in bed to fall asleep and begin to think about you, how pretty you must look laying in your own bed right now and how soaked you’d be if you were touching yourself too. sungchan would give anything to have even the smallest taste of you on his tongue. he was beginning to think he really was a perv.

it took sungchan around two weeks to ask yujin to go out with him, he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t concerned about going out with her and being completely uninterested in her due to his thoughts being preoccupied with you. yet he still went along with it, at least he knew not to be surprised if he was right about his concerns. unsurprisingly to sungchan, he had every right to be concerned.

when he walked into the bar, the same bar he first met yujin at, he spotted her right away. it almost pained him that she was sat in the booth the two of you were in a few weeks before. yujin looked beautiful, and sungchan made sure to tell her the moment he greeted her with a hand barely touching her waist and a small kiss against her cheek.

sungchan listened to yujin attentively, allowing her to talk about what she wished whilst he nodded and added on his own comments every so often. he showed interest in her and made her feel as if he wanted to be there, the only thing was that whilst he physically was there, his mind was miles away. she mentioned your name a few times, smiling as she did, sungchan could tell she was fond of you. it made him feel guilty that he spent their entire date thinking of the way your shirt rode up your stomach earlier on during that day.

when yujin’s fingers touched his arm, sungchan thought about the way your skin felt against his, when she leaned against him he thought about how you unintentionally bury your head in his neck and whine when you’re napping next to him. sungchan was truly mind fucked. maybe the only way he could get out of this rut was to confront it head on, and doing that would mean confessing to you that he’s spent the last year and a half fantasising about fucking you every night and how he can’t even look at another girl without imagining you beneath him instead. so he acted oblivious to the hints yujin was dropping about him returning to her house with her for the night bidded her goodbye, not leaving until she was safe inside of her uber home. once she was, sungchan made his way to yours.

sungchan could freely admit that he wasn’t the smartest person in the world, he had his slightly more dense moments and showing up at your home unannounced at 11pm on a friday night was definitely one of them. he hadn’t planned how what he was going to say to you, telling you he couldn’t date anyone because he was too obsessed with the idea of having sex with you seemed too forward, and completely inappropriate.

he had no plan in his head when he knocked on your front door and even if he did, it would have slipped from his mind the moment you opened your door.

“sungchan?”

“is that my shirt?” you looked down at the oversized shirt that adorned your body.

“yes” that factor made everything seem one hundred times worse for sungchan. you stepped aside to allow him to enter your house, shutting the door behind him once he stepped inside “what are you doing here so late? didn’t you have a date with yujin?”

“that’s why i’m here” you cocked your head to the side, locking your front door before walking into your living room, sungchan sat down beside you before turning to you.

“are you okay?” you could feel the stress radiating off of him, he wasn’t as good at masking his emotions as he thought he was.

“i just wanted to talk to you abut something” sungchan felt his hands dampen, sweat forming as he clasped them together. you watched him intently, wondering what could be so important that hed show up at your house so late at night completely unannounced. sungchan shifted himself a few times, having already felt his cock pressing against his thigh due to the clothing you were wearing “i wanted to talk to you about me going on a date with your friend, and why i kept rejecting your other friends. you nodded, leaning back against the sofa. sungchan’s eyes darted to the way his shirt rode up your thigh, exposing more of your skin to him.

“finally”

“yujin is really sweet, i had a nice time with her tonight and i’ve enjoyed getting to know her and i do think maybe something could happen between the two of us but not right now”

“why not?” because i desperately want to have sex with you?

“because i feel like my, sexual intentions, are with someone else and i can’t seem to get them away from. that person” you hummed at him, leg crossing over the other as you looked at him. sungchan seemed to be in genuinely agony over this.

“have you had sex with them?”

“no”

“do they know you want to have sex with them?”

“no?”

“the only thing i can suggest is bringing it up to them, maybe if you talk to them and the two of you agree to it, you can just fuck it out of your system” you paused for a second, sungchan had spent a little too long staring down at his hands “who is it?” he looked at you, within seconds you could feel read the guilt on his face. you felt your eyes widen and sungchan panicked, quickly realising that you had caught on “you’re serious?”

“yeah” he breathed out, worried about how you would react.

“how the hell did that happen?”

“i don’t know it just, happened” sungchan felt his life flash before his eyes, he could have just ruined his entire friendship with you because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking with his dick “please don’t hate me i know it’s stupid and i know i shouldn’t think those things about you but it just happened and i promise i didn’t mean for it to”

“i don’t hate you” you laughed at the worry in his voice, narrowing your eyes at him “it just took me by surprise i never expected you to want to fuck me sungchan, we’ve known eachother for so long it never crossed my mind” he parted his lips to speak but stopped himself when you continued “i’m not against the idea of having sex with you sungchan, but i don’t think we should do it tonight” sungchan felt his cock throb beneath his briefs, he gulped again “i need time to prepare at least, let me sit on it for a few days and i’ll get back to you, okay?”

“take as long as you need” he breathed out.

“do you want to stay over? it’s getting late and i don’t mind”

“i should head home, i think i’ll sleep better there tonight” there was an uncomfortable look on his face as he stood up, you held back a laugh as you realised why he was acting so awkward. you opted against saying anything, to him, not wanting him to feel worse than he already did. sungchan left your home already knowing what he was going to do the moment he reached his house and he was grateful that it wasn’t too far away, the way his cock was throbbing in his pants was becoming almost painful to deal with. sungchan unapologetically jerked off before bed that night, he took a shower the moment he got home and found his hand wrapped around leaking cock immediately. he tugged at himself his other hand resting flat against the wall as the hot water ran over his body, he groaned as he brought himself closer to the edge. his eyes shut as images of you filled his mind, he would’ve given anything to take you in his shirt, to bend you over your kitchen counter and fuck you whilst you desperately cried out his name and told him how good he felt inside of you. he wanted to be the reason you’d be shaking and crying as you came and he was determined to be.

the following few days were a daze for sungchan, he knew you technically hadn’t said yes yet and he would respect you if you decided that you didn’t want to do it. but he was in agony waiting for your response, he didn’t bring it up to you, he waited for you to bring it up to him and he almost wet himself the moment you messaged him about it.

you can come over if you want tonight, we can talk about it and set some ground rules. i also brought something pretty to wear ehe.

sungchan was incredibly quick to respond, all shame left his body the moment he saw your message. you audibly laughed to yourself at how quickly you received his response, your fingers locking your phone as you dropped it beside your body.

you had found the past few days to be enlightening for you, your feelings toward sungchan shifted slightly the more you thought about him. prior to the conversation you had with sungchan, you hadn’t thought much about him physically. he was incredibly handsome, you’d experienced first hand watching him grow into his features and develop his physical maturity, you’d spent countless days watching him work out and even more days watching him do stupid shit that he always gets embarrassed over. your relationship with sungchan was something you cherished and you couldn’t deny your worries that came with the possibility of ruining that.

yet, you continued to entertain the thought of falling into bed with him. the more you thought about it, the more you craved to experience it, even if it did only happen once. sungchan seemed desperate to have you, the fact he couldn’t look at another girl in that way without thinking about you instead left a taste in your mouth. you found yourself unfathomably horny over the fact he was so set on you, you could barely imagine the amount of times he must’ve gotten off to you and that made it worse for you. it wasn’t kind of you to leave him sitting on it for a few days, considering you made your decision rather quickly, but you wanted to wait until you were completely sure and at this point you were sure that you were.

the wait for sungchan to turn up to your home later into the night felt longer that needed, once he messaged you saying he was on his way you were sat on your sofa, feet tapping against the floor and your fingers fiddling with one another. you weren’t sure why you had become so nervous to see him, but your heart seemingly fell to your stomach the moment he knocked on your front door.

you smiled at him as you opened the door, sungchan instantly took in the fact you were wearing his shirt again. he wondered how the last few days were for you, if you’d laid down and touched yourself whilst wearing it. sungchan was embarrassingly worked up without even stepping foot into your house. you led him to your bedroom rather than your living room, it was a place sungchan had been in countless times before, he’d fallen asleep in your bed just as many times as he’d fallen asleep in hs own, but something about it was more nerve inducing this time around. he watched as you sat on the edge of your bed, inviting him to sit beside you. he closed your bedroom door behind him and ran his hand through his hair before taking a seat next to you.

“i thought about it really hard over the past few days because i really don’t want this to cause anything bad in our friendship and i’d hate for things to be weird between us” sungchan took in the fact you seemed just as nervous as he was, your eyes trained solely on your fingers that sat in your lap “but ultimately i decided i think it would be okay for the two of us to, well, have sex. but i want to set down some rules just so theres no awkwardness or anything” sungchan nodded as you spoke, smiling gently to you when you finally looked up at him.

“i had a few things too, but you can go first”

“honestly my main rule is that there has to be protection involved but i kind of forgot to tell you that so i brought some condoms earlier today”

“i brought some with me”

“the other ones i had was that we shouldn’t kiss, we shouldn’t use each others names and i don’t think we should make eye contact” sungchan had to agree, especially with the latter. he’d spent far too long imagining how you’d look whilst taking his cock and he feared actually seeing your face when you do would destroy him as a person, inside and out “is there anything you’d like to add?”

“there is something, but it’s not really a rule?” you looked at him, curiosity in your eyes.

“what is it?” sungchan tried to ignore how gentle your tone was as you spoke to him. the softness of your voice seemed almost sick in the context the two of you were in.

“the only concern i really have is that” he paused, unsure on how to even begin to phrase his worries “i’m on the bigger side and i don’t want to accidentally hurt you because it doesn’t, fit” your eyes widened as he spoke, your blood running cold as you took in his words. you gulped before you spoke, shifting a little due to the sudden throb that came from your clit.

“show me”

“right now?” you nodded at him, genuinely wanting to see. you held his arm and pushed him gently so he could stand up, you pulled him to stand in front of you before looking up at him.

“can i?” asking softly if you could see it for yourself, sungchan let out a shaky breath as he nodded and watched you. you focused on what was in front of you, your fingers pushing under the waistband of his pants. you were slow to push them down his legs, his briefs dragging down with them. he watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his cock springing out, your lips parting as his tip leaked. your hands let his pants fall to his ankles, fingers lifting up his shirt so you could see him properly. he replaced your hand, holding his shirt up as you focused on his cock.

sungchan had never felt as vulnerable as he did in that moment, your face so close to his cock, your eyes laced with interest whilst your thighs pressed against each other. he wished he could know what was going on in your head, he wanted nothing more than to know exactly what you were thinking.

“can i touch you sungchan?” the last thing in this world that sungchan trusted was his voice, he had to hold back an almost pathetic whimper at your question, instead he breathed out a yes. he didn’t take his eyes off of what you were doing, when your hand reached out to wrap around his cock sungchan felt his knees buckle from under him. you slowly dragged your hand from the base up to the head of his cock, your thumb brushing over his tip where his precum seeped out of before you pushed your hand back down his cock. his precum caused him to become slicker, your hand moving more freely over his cock because of it.

“you’re right you’re so big” sungchan groaned, he physically couldn’t hold himself back from doing so. hearing you say something so crude to him, something he had basically dreamt of at that point broke down a piece of self control inside of him. you squeezed your hand tighter around his cock, without thinking too much about it in the moment you leant forward and let your tongue brush across his tip. sungchan’s knuckles had already began to turn white at that point, his hands balled into fists as his body betrayed him. more precum seeped from him the more you touched him, he felt useless when he realised just how much he was struggling to stand up.

things weren’t going as smooth for you either, hearing him express concerns over having a big cock only caused your panties to dampen and seeing it for yourself, how it weighed itself down because of its weight made the throb of your cunt worse. your mouthed watered when you took him into your hand and felt how heavy he was, you craved to taste him on your tongue just once and he didn’t disappoint. he melted against your tongue and the way he groaned almost caused you to whimper in return.

“i’ll cum so fucking fast if you suck me off” sungchan’s confession caused you to look up at him, that was a mistake on sungchan’s part. your wide eyes and parted lips only caused him pain, the hand you had around his cock didn’t help that at all either. there was still part of you that wanted to tease him for how he was acting but you held yourself back, an overwhelming part of you being too dumbfound to even attempt to anyway. you released his cock from your grip, doing so by slowly dragging it back to the top and letting it slip off of him, sungchan took in a shaky deep breath when you done so.

you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, your eyes trained on his muscles as he done so. sungchan’s body was something he took pride in and you were incredibly proud of him for it, but this was the first time you had looked at him and wanted to feel him pressed against you. it was almost too easy to imagine the way his abs would flex against your back as he took you from behind or how his arms would flex as he fucked you against the wall. it pained you to think just how good he would feel inside of you. sungchan being completely bare in front of you felt like a fever dream, you almost felt bad for the fact you had planned to not be completely naked. yet your guilt turned to embarrassment when you stood up. somehow the two of you had swapped positions, sungchan had sat on the edge of your bed once you stood up, his bare body on show to you as you shyly stood in front of him. “i’m not completely naked under this, i think i mentioned it in the text”

“you said you brought something pretty to wear” sungchan remembered, how could he forget? he couldn’t wait to see what you had worn underneath his shirt but he also couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers fiddled with the hem of the shirt and your breathing became shaky “are you okay?”

“yeah it just feels a little embarrassing now” you laughed to yourself, lifting your head to look at sungchan. despite the fact his cock was out, literally, there was no awkwardness in the room and that was something you were both grateful for. there was a small smile on sungchan’s face, one you could spot from a mile away “don’t you dare tease me right now i just had your cock in my mouth” sungchan breathed out a laugh, finding comfort in the fact you were still yourself.

“if it helps you feel better, i can’t wait to see what you brought to wear, i already know it’ll make me want to fuck you ever more” you gulped at his words, finally letting yourself bring his shirt over your head. you avoided his eyes for multiple reasons once his shirt hit the floor. sungchan felt his cock throb just at the sight of you “you always looked so pretty in baby blue”

“i remember you saying” you stepped toward him, your eyes finally falling to his face as you watched him take you in.

“i get to fuck you in this?” sungchan groaned without meaning to, his eyes not leaving the thin, see through fabric of the lingerie that stuck to your body. his eyes settled on your cleavage, the material keeping nothing covered as your nipples poked through it. he reached his hands out to grab your hips, wanting to feel your skin under his touch “you look so good” he groaned again, sungchan had never experienced cumming untouched before but if anyone was to do it to him he knew it would be you.

he let his hand fall to your thigh, his fingers tracing your bare skin as he brought them closer to your core. he could feel how hot you were, the lightest touches against your lace clad core let him feel how drenched you already were. your hands fell to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into his muscles.

“i uh, prepped myself before you came over” sungchan swallowed hard hearing you say that, you did touch yourself whilst wearing his shirt. he couldn’t help but wonder if you used your fingers or if you used a toy, maybe a vibrator to work yourself up. he couldn’t bring himself to think of you fucking yourself with a dildo to the thought of him.

“because of the no eye contact thing” sungchan started, his fingers still softly dancing over your core. his eyes met yours and it almost felt as if he was defying the rule already “do you want it from behind” you nodded, breathing out a shaky please as he touched you. “you’ll tell me if it’s too much or if it hurts, right?”

“of course” his concern warmed your heart, sungchan desperately wanted to feel your walls trap his cock inside of you but he care more about your wellbeing to want to bring pain to you just to get that. he could never hurt you.

after a brief moment you stood back, watching as he stood up before you crawled onto the bed. you didn’t have it in you to look at him, instead your settled yourself with your head resting against your pillow and your arms hooked under neath it, holding it in your arms as you laid on your stomach. sungchan dug into his backpack for his pack of condoms, throwing them onto your bedside table after taking one out. he tried not to think too much as he moved back toward your bed, he settled himself on his knees before he touched your skin. he helped you lift your ass into the air, your knees bent and pressed into your mattress as your arched your back. he knelt up and pressed against your back lightly, causing you to arch it a little more before he moved back to the condom in his hand.

the wrapped found itself discarded onto your bedroom floor as he held the condom, he was careful to roll it onto him, breathing heavily as his hand brushed over his cock. he ran his hand over himself a few times before he let go, moving to focus on you. sungchan was careful to push aside the thin fabric of your lingerie, your cunt being exposed to him made his mouth water. he had to restrain himself from pressing his face against you and having you fill every corner of his mouth. he knew there were more pressing matters too attend to, it didn’t help that he could see how wet you were, your slick cunt was so inviting to him. he sighed when he wrapped his hand around his cock, he had to close his eyes when he pressed his tip against your clit. your body jumped and you let out a quiet whimper into the pillow.

“are you ready?” he spoke softly to you, not moving until he heard an audible answer.

“im ready” sungchan squeezed your thigh with his free hand as he guided himself down your slit, the already slick condom seeming to be impossibly soaked by now.

sungchan had to suck in a deep breath when he felt your hole with the head of his cock, he swallowed and stared down at where you two were about to meet as he slowly eased himself into you. he heard you gasp and he paused once the tip of his cock was inside of you, he had to dig his fingers into your hips just to ground himself for a few moments. when he pushed himself deeper into you he felt as if he was going to explode, he stilled his hips and moaned without meaning to. he had to bite back more sounds before he could speak to you.

“does it feel okay?” his voice was shaky, your walls seemed to tighten around him as he spoke to you. it took a few moments for you to respond.

“you feel so fucking good sungchan”

not saying each other’s names? you broke that rule a lot faster than you had expected.

your voice was nothing but a broken moan, your cunt pulling him further into you “i wanna feel all of you, i can take it” sungchan hadn’t expected you to become so desperate, he never expected to hear you begging to take all of him. he knew the idea of him lasting long was far gone out of the window by now.

he gave you what you wanted, easing the rest of himself into you before stilling again, wanting to be sure you could handle it before he pulled out and thrusted slowly back into you. as he built up his pace, he dropped his fingers underneath your body and attached them to your clit. his thrusts becoming a little harder and more frequently as he heard you whine into your pillow.

sungchan hated the fact you were trying to keep yourself quiet, he craved to hear each and ever depraved moan that was threatening to leave you as he fucked you. you drove him insane and he was determined to have you crying out for him. so he sped his fingers up on your clit, he leaned closer to your body and angled his hips so he could reach deeper inside of you. the first cry from your lips had sungchan biting back a whine, the way you sounded shot through his body and went straight to his cock. he held your hips tighter as he pulled your ass back against him, needing to hear it again and again.

but sungchan needed more. he needed to see you, he needed to watch your pretty face contort as you took him deep inside of you and let him explore depths of you that no one ever had before. so despite his better judgement he leaned over your body, his chest pressing against your back as he took your hair in his hand and pressed the side of your head against your pillow, you whimpered at the sudden roughness of his action,s how his demeanour seemed to shift from his previous gentle one.

“let me see you” he spoke deeply into your ear, his hips still bucking against yours “need to see your pretty face when you cum” your only response was your eyes shutting and your lips letting out a desperate please. begging was something sungchan realised you done a lot of, whether you meant to or not. he wasn’t going to complain, but he knew it was something he needed to hear more of.

pulling out of you had you both whimpering for a moment, both of you feeling empty and bare as he turned you over so you were laying on your back. your eyes were dazed as you looked at him, your chest rising heavily as you looked up at him.

no eye contact? sungchan almost laughed as he broke your rule, he needed to see you and he couldn’t stop himself from letting that happen.

sungchan was desperate to get back inside of you, he hooked his hand around the crotch of your panties and tore them off of you before he held your thighs apart. he found your gasp to be amusing as he broke them, not giving you time to say anything about it before he was sinking back into your heat. he let his head fall back as you sucked him back in, your mouth dried up as you watched his abs tense. you clenched a little tighter around him whilst looking at him, unable to fathom just how attractive he was.

when sungchan looked down at you again he was a wreck, his hips setting a pace that had both of your minds free of any thought at all. he couldn’t help but fuck you the way that he did, rough, deep thrusts that had your eyes rolling back and your voice breaking. eventually he leaned down, his forearms resting either side of your head as he fucked into you. he watched your face as you took him deeper into your cunt, he watched the way you struggled to keep your eyes open and how your lips couldn’t shut from how much you were crying out for him. he felt as if he was blessed being able to see you like this, you looked and sounded far better than he had ever imagined and he knew those things would be etched into his mind forever.

his orgasm chased him rapidly, he ended up burying his head in your neck, moaning into your skin when he felt your nails dig into his back. you breathed out his name followed by more and more pleads, all of it together left sungchan bucking his hips against yours in a rushed and uncontrolled way. both of you chasing your orgasms because of the way that it felt. he had never had sex in such a desperate way before and he loved it, he became obsessed with how pathetically needy you were for him too and he knew that his orgasm would hit even harder because of it.

sungchan barely lifted his body off of yours, his hand pushing between the two of you so his fingers could find your clit. him finishing was great but he had to make you cum, he needed to do it. so he did, his fingers rubbed your clit in a sloppy manner but it done everything for you when it was combined with his thrusts into you, your body withered under him as you babbled about being close and needing to cum, the moment he felt you still under him and cry out his name again he knew he had brought you to where you needed to be. he followed suit barely moments after. your name falling from his lips in a pathetic whine as he came inside of the condom.

it took both of you a few moments to even attempt to regain your breaths, your bodies stuck to one another until he finally pulled out of you and laid beside you, he instinctively pulled you against him.

“you can stay the night” you spoke, your head resting against his chest, a sleepy tone in your voice as you listened to his heart beat. your fingers laced through his as they sat against his stomach, your voice breaking the silence again as you spoke before he could say anything “please stay the night” sungchan couldn’t ignore how weak you sounded, he simply wrapped his arm tighter around your waist and kept you close to him, lips pressing against your head.

“i’m not going anywhere”.

the following few days with sungchan seemed as normal as ever, despite the fact you were both silently suffering over one another, you both kept it to yourselves. you spoke normally, neither of you bringing up what had occurred that night. sungchan had already accepted the fact having sex with you didn’t fix his problem, it only made it worse. he thought the no eye contact rule was the most important one you laid out but it seemed to be the easiest to break, he shouldn’t have broken it. all he was stuck with was the image of you laying under him, taking his cock with your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted as the sweetest sounds sungchan had ever heard fell from them, he swore he could still feel your nails digging into his skin as you cried about being close.

yet, he knew he had to try. maybe seeing yujin again would help him, he knew he was being a little more than just delusional by assuming it but he didn’t see the harm in trying. he never told you about the fact he was going over to her home that night, in fact he wasn’t even aware that yujin told you. he wasn’t sure why he had kept it from you, he had no real reason to but something inside of him felt guilty over it.

yujin had told you as soon as sungchan messaged her, an almost overexcited text from her about him asking to come over later that night appeared on your phone screen and you responded to her with just as much excitement only to close your phone as your felt your heart sink. having sex with sungchan was probably the worst idea you could have ever had, but you didn’t regret it. you craved for it to happen again, to fall into bed with him and feel him rock into you over and over again whilst telling you how perfect you were. it was selfish to think of him in that light, to want him all for yourself after sending him to your friend. the best thing you could do was preoccupy yourself for the night to try to ignore the fact it was likely that he’d have her the way he had you only a few nights prior, shaking the thought out of your head was agony but you tried your best.

it only came rushing back to you when you heard a rushed knock at your door, it was a little past 10pm and you knew there was only one person who would randomly show up at your door so late at night. you knew the chances of sungchan standing there was low but you couldn’t help but hope it was him. looking through the small peephole in your door felt like the best thing to do, not wanting to open the door to just anyone. once you caught sight of sungchan you felt your body freeze, it took a few seconds for you to let him in, your fingers fiddling with the lock to try and get it to open.

neither of you said a word as you opened the door, it only took a second for sungchan to step inside of your house, close the door and have you pressed against the wall. he kissed you for the first time.

no kissing? rule broken.

his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you between himself and the wall. your arms instantly wrapped around his neck as you accepted him, fingers pushing into his hair.

“i need you so fucking bad” he only broke the kiss for a moment, speaking quickly as he held you impossibly tighter against him.

“please” your plea was nothing but a broken whimper. you let him lead you to your bedroom and lay you down, letting him strip you off and do what he had been dreaming of all day. it almost overwhelmed you to think that’s how you ended up in the position you two were in, his bare cock stretching out your walls as you struggle to rock against him.

protection? the final rule had broken far too quickly and neither of you were apologetic about it.

“sungchan please i’m so close” you whimpered, his fingers digging harder into your hips as

you leaned down, your chest pressed against his as your eyes shut. you felt his knees lift beneath you as he bucked his hips up against yours, you cried out as his arms wrapped around your waist. your hands landed either side of his head on your bed, eyes struggling to open and focus on him. sungchan didn’t give you time to before he leant up to kiss you, his head falling back against the bed, pulling you down with him whilst catching your lips with his. you moaned into the kiss, your walls squeezing his cock tightly as you took him over and over again.

there was a faint buzzing sound coming from sungchan’s phone on your nightstand, the lit screen not being close to enough to pull the two of you away from each other.

you laid against sungchan’s chest, your eyes closing once again as you felt his fingers slowly run up and down your back. you found yourself cuddling closer into him, eyes opening to see his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. his cock was still nestled inside of you as you both laid there, nothing but deep breaths could be heard in the room until you heard your phone ding, a text message coming through. sungchan’s arms tightened around you as you tried to lift yourself up, he kept you pressed against his chest as he lifted himself to sit up instead, the two of your bodies still connected.

he picked up your phone and handed it to you, your head resting against his shoulder as he took your phone from him and unlocked it to read the messages on your lock screen. your eyes scanned the messages from yujin, sungchan’s fingers still rubbing your skin as you took in the words. her messages began as curiosity, asking if you knew where sungchan was because he’d left her house abruptly, they changed to concern as she worried if something had happened to cause him to rush off but they seemed to end in anger, her tone changing as she realised he may just not wanted to be with her.

he didn’t stand me up, he left half way through and i think that’s worse lol, i know he’s your best friend but he can go fuck himself, stupid prick. you winced as you read it, sungchan only sighed out an apology into your hair.

“how do i tell her i’m not interested?” he peaked over at his phone to see the missed call notification on his screen. you placed your phone back down and lifted yourself up to look at him, fingers digging into his shoulders as you whimpered when his cock moved inside of you. you could only smile lightly at sungchan, his gentle eyes focused on your face as he seemed genuinely apologetic for causing such an awkward situation between you and your friend.

“you’re not?” sungchan breathed out a laugh, fingers creeping a little higher up your skin. he shook his head “i don’t want her to be upset”

“do you want me to date her?” you narrowed your eyes at him for a moment.

“of course not” he leaned forward, his lips pressing softly against your skin, only touching the corner of yours. he dropped his hands down to your ass, pulling you closer against him as he squeezed it. a moan slipped from you as you moved on his cock again, nails pressing into his skin. his voice was deep as he spoke to you, a shaky undertone taking ahold of it.

“then focus on me instead, we can sort her out later”.

#✧ melody posts #riize smut #sungchan smut #riize sungchan smut

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honoura · 26 days

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Shaaloani: The Land of Enchantment Part One

Hello again! It's another lore-adjacent post from me about a niche special interest of mine. This time it's Shaaloani, the American Southwest/Northern Mexico inspired zone in FFXIV's Dawntrail.

I want to disclose a few things right at the start just to temper people's expectations: I will not be definitively ID'ing any of the indigenous-inspired structures or visuals as inspired by any specific tribe. That's not my lane! I'm going to link to things that they remind me of, for sure. But otherwise my hyperfocus is going to be on the physical environment, some animals, and the ceruleum as petroleum industry. It's what I recognize best! And what I know best, truthfully.

"Hon why are you doing this?" A variety of reasons honestly. After DT dropped I saw a lot of folks who did at least one of the following:

Commented on the Old West theme park aspect

Called it "miqo'te Texas"

Generally just called the whole map "Texas"

And if I'm honest... it bugged me! Not because I thought anyone was being malicious about it (it's mostly pop culture saturation I'd suspect), but to me it stung a bit that this zone, which I grew up on the fringe of, was... kind of flattened by a lot of people?

I don't know, the response to me just felt like people assumed they knew everything about it because they'd seen it already in movies or TV or Red Dead Redemption rather than the same open-mindedness about what was presented in places like Urqopacha.

This zone isn't just Texas -- yes there are some bits and pieces here (because it's pulling from the Chihuahuan Desert and the Sonoran Desert), but so much of it reminds me of New Mexico, Mexico, and Arizona. There's some Colorado, Utah, and Nevada there too! And the background story going on there is something that still happens in a lot of those states, by both the government and corporations alike.

That variety deserves to be celebrated! So come learn with me about the inspiration for Shaaloani!

Shaaloani Geography

Shaaloani has three major regions in the zone -- Eshceyaani Wilds, Pyariyoanaan Plain, and Yawtanane Grasslands. To get this out of the way, I'm going to tell you the one that reminds me most of Texas.

Ready?

Lake Taori of the Pyariyoanaan Plain.

It's river-fed, with canyons on both ends of the Niikwerepi. The trees crowding around it are cypress trees, as you can tell by the little nubby off-shoots called knees. To compare, here is a photo of cypress trees along the Frio River:

This is also reminiscent of places along the Rio Grande and Pecos Rivers, two significant water sources in West Texas. I also would not call them bayous! Bayous typically have brackish water, are slow-moving, and are way too far east.

However, it could be partly considered a ciénega -- which according to its wikipedia article:

"Ciénagas are usually associated with seeps or springs, found in canyon headwaters or along margins of streams. Ciénagas often occur because the geomorphology forces water to the surface, over large areas, not merely through a single pool or channel."

As a caveat, ciénegas generally don't have trees around them, but I also know that you can't really drown a cypress and they love sunshine. Regardless -- if you see trees in the desert they are typically growing along a water source. Balmorhea State Park has some cottonwood trees native to the area that are going strong.

Yawtanane Grasslands reads as a mix of the Chihuahuan Desert and the Eastern Plains of Colorado. Both are rather arid and home to a variety of grasses that can thrive in such a climate -- which has historically made both areas home to large cattle industries (whether or not this was ever a good idea is debatable, since cattle are very thirsty animals).

Meanwhile the Eshceyaani Wilds looks similar to the Sonoran Desert -- the red-hued soil and rocks, the abundance of cacti with the scrub brush and some drought-tolerant grasses. Here's a shot of the Sonoran within Saguaro National Park in Arizona:

Saguaros also only grow in Arizona in the States! As well as the organ-pipe cactus, which you see in Tender Valley. And prickly pears grow just about anywhere they can get a chance -- as well as barrel cacti, both of which we see in Tender Valley (along with what could be agave!).

You could probably make a case for it being a piñon-juniper scrubland -- everything's very short compared to those cypress trees, including the juniper trees! Piñon-juniper scrubland's found throughout the Southwest. There are also piñon-juniper savannahs and persistent woodlands intermixed in the same places. The difference lay in what plants you find with the piñon pines and junipers.

Visually, aside from the Sonoran Desert, I can also see a lot of New Mexico, like the Ghost Ranch in Rio Arriba:

It matches up with the mountains you can see, and both Yowekwa Canyon and Tender Valley. And of course, Tender Valley is likely a Grand Canyon reference, going by the sheer height of the cliffs. But you could also make a case for Canyonlands National Park in Utah.

There's a shot from Grand View Point Overlook within the park -- the closeness of the canyon walls and the warm earth tones also evoke Tender Valley!

There's also a lot of these sandstone formations in Utah that better fit Shaaloani -- like here in the Valley of the Gods:

Shaaloani Structures

I also at this point want to call attention to one of the two sites with cliff dwellings & adobe structures. We just saw Tender Valley above, which is confirmed to be old Yok Huy structures. But check out these Tonawawta buildings below.

As I stated before, I don't want to state which tribe these two styles remind me of. But I do want to say this again strikes me as another New Mexico and Arizona callback; both the Gila Cliff Dwellings and the Puye Cliff Dwellings are found in two different areas of New Mexico. And the Gíusewa Pueblo, also in New Mexico! Montezuma Castle is found in Arizona, and is pictured below! Look at that rich reddish earth color.

I also want to call attention to the place of worship for the Tonawawta in Yowekwa Canyon:

When I saw it my kneejerk response was to call it an ofrenda. But that's ultimately an incomplete response -- that was just the vibe I felt after seeing them during my life! What it also reminds me of are pictographs and petroglyphs. You find these all over the Southwest (the climate helps preserve them!), but I'm going to link some really great examples. I won't provide images to all though!

Crow Canyon Petroglyphs:

Piedras Madras Canyon at Petroglyph National Monument (New Mexico) Petroglyph Point Trail at Mesa Verde National Park (Colorado) Petroglyph Panel at Canyon Reef National Park (Utah) Nampaweap at Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument (Arizona) Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park (Utah) and the Hueco Tanks State Park (Texas)

In contrast, I don't want to spend a ton of time on the boom town structures in this zone; they are pretty straightforward references to mining towns during the different resource booms (gold, silver, copper, oil).

Similar blocky shapes, built out of wood. One thing I noticed as a neat addition are the decorative patterns painted on it -- again, I don't want to presume if there's a specific tribe tied to this. But I do think it's a neat touch and I want to think that's a design choice to convey the underlying theme that this is a zone at odds with advancing technology and wanting to keep hold of important traditions.

I WILL talk about the ceruleum wells and pumping though. Mostly because I'm impressed that they went with structures that so closely resemble early 20th century oil derricks. Those were also predominately made of wood (including the barrels, yikes!). The pump part of what's called a pumpjack were covered in the old days -- the ones we're most used to seeing now are made of metal and are thus left uncovered.

However, as you can see from this century old rig, even the wheel's made of wood:

I don't think ceruleum gushes the same way oil did -- it seems to behave more like natural gas. However, most natural gas pipelines do burn off excess, which can be seen as a little spout of flame atop.

Oil's occupied an awkward spot in the Southwest, and still does. Aside from the heinous crimes committed in Killers of the Flower Moon (where members of the Osage tribe were murdered for their oil shares in Oklahoma) and the Teapot Dome Scandal, oil is just... well.

Bear with me, I'm about to rag on Koana a moment.

The people who make the most money and have the most power over the average roughneck's life never live in the Southwest. They work in the c-suite and have more money than sense.

I find it very fascinating that DT chose to recreate this dynamic, this uncomfortable push-pull of a region rich in a resource, and it's being harvested at the suggestion and behest of a power that is physically removed from the area. And to some NPCs it's with a certain level of disregard to traditions and practices in place before, with the focus on the nebulous quantifier of 'progress'. Progress how? It depends!

But the folks at the highest seat of power never have to grapple with those questions, because to them it's a fairly cut and dry answer. This is the way to proceed, and if they want to take this nation into the "future", then this is the clear way to do it. It speaks to Koana's fixation on foreign technology to the point he de-values his own (partly due to his childhood trauma, which kind of prepped him to be susceptible to it).

Meanwhile the locals are the ones grappling the most with this change -- how it affects their plants and animals. Sometimes pits open up in the earth and ceruleum burns (which, Santa Rita New Mexico sank multiple times into the earth thanks to copper mining). On the map there's even discolored plants -- and they only occur in the vicinity OF the bulk of the ceruleum pumps.

This is at odds with core beliefs, keeping up with traditional practices. It puts people in the place of 'do I participate in this system, which promises work and the means to take care of my family, even as it pits me against my cultural heritage?'.

Growing up in West Texas, one of the weirdest things to me (to this day) is how many people will claim they love the land. They do! They love the outdoors, they worry over how certain species of animals have become scarcer. But they also work in the single most damaging industry because it pays the most money. It lets them cover bills and give their kids what they never had.

That same push-pull is in Shaaloani narratively; when progress has been thrust upon you, how do you survive it? How do you make sure what's dearest to you comes along with you?

In Conclusion

I want to call it here for Part One -- Part Two after this will cover more observations I had regarding flora and fauna in the Shaaloani zone, and how that also shows the attention to detail given this zone! It's a good time! There will be dinosaurs!

#FFXIV #ffxiv dawntrail #dawntrail spoilers #zone spoilers #shaaloani #ffxiv lore #lore speculation #long post

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violetarks · 6 months

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megumi's parental figure, early 20s! gojo satoru, comes in to discuss with you, first year teacher as 'ms l/n', a little mishap that has occured between the young boy and someone else in your class. a fight had broke out in the midst of recess and, while on your break in the teacher's lounge, you were called to the entrance of the room with the two boys, both with their fair share of scratches and scruffed up clothes.

the office had to tell the respective parents to come in to talk after school, while you stood with the boys in the sick bay, helping the nurse clean their wounds.

megumi grunts, "don't call gojo..."

"i have to, sweetie." you retort, placing a bandaid on his cheek from the bark that scratched his face when he was pushed into the ground. megumi frowns even more. "it's the school's policy. i'm sorry."

he only nods his head, eyes pricking with tears as the kid beside him bawled his eyes out about getting in trouble with his parents

you know it's megumi's so-called 'immature, loud-mouth, waste of time and effort' guardian when he comes bursting through the hallway in some kind of uniform, glasses on his nose and fringe messily sticking to his sweaty forehead. not the man you had pictured taking care of megumi.

"megumi! megumi!" he calls, rushing up to you and the boys. they sat in the chairs outside of your classroom while the rest of yours kids were painting. megumi groaned, covering his face in embarrassment as satoru kneeled down in front of him and badgered on. "what happened? i came as soon as i got the call!"

megumi, unwilling to answer, only glares at the boy beside him, who does the same thing.

you sigh, "your son and his classmate were in a physical fight today, mr gojo."

satoru looks to you for a split second before doing a double take. his blue eyes peak over his glasses and you find yourself clearing your throat to gather your nerves again.

as soon as satoru turns back to megumi, he's worried again. "oh god... megumi, please, tell me, did you win—?"

"mr gojo!" you harshly whisper, slight chuckle in your tone at the question. he glances up at you. "please."

so now you sit with both of the boys' parents — megumi and his legal father, satoru (who hasn't stopped smiling at you since he walked in, which is a step up from his not-much-older sister coming in to fill in for their parents), and the other boy, ibuki, and his parents, mr and mrs sawamura (who were of high paying jobs).

the mother and father duo look unpleased to be there, whilst satoru just keeps sending you the warmest gaze. the boys are glaring at each other, clicking their tongues and looking away.

"i apologise for the inconvenience this has caused." you explain, hands on your lap as your sit on your chair at the head of the classroom, "but i'm afraid the school's contacted you on such short notice due to the events of today."

you begin to explain what you know from the boys and what other teachers have told you. megumi and ibuki have never been friends due to clashing ideas, but today, ibuki pushed megumi onto the floor at the playground in the middle of playing tag when megumi was 'it' and tagged ibuki. as a result, ibuki made a comment on megumi's absent parents.

the ravenette, in return, pushed ibuki back and told him to apologise, only for ibuki to throw the first punch. a minor brawl occured, with slapping, kicking, punching and bark throwing whilst other kids watched. nothing was severely damaged, but scratches and light bruises were evident on the boys.

in the end, neither of the boys wanted to apologise.

"what could my son have possibly done?" mrs sawamura questions, crossed arms. the two have been hostile since the start, but you don't react.

"mrs sawamura, ibuki put his hands on megumi and pushed him to the ground whilst insulting him." you reiterate, "i'm sorry, but all accounts state this."

"ibuki, did you do such a thing?" mr sawamura questions, glaring at his son.

ibuki, baffled and nervous, begins to sputter out, "i—well, megumi...! he—he bullied me and said i was a slow runner!”

"i wasn't making fun of you, i was stating a fact." megumi retorts, shaking his head. satoru smirks.

"if anyone should be punished, it should be that bully of a kid!" mrs sawamura exasperates, "goodness, what kind of child resorts to such hostility? children say anything these days! what are you raising?"

satoru turns to her with a roll of his eyes. "a kid with common sense. maybe the reason your kid is so jealous of megumi isn't just because he's smarter than him or cooler, but because megumi knows to cover mouth when to sneeze rather than on other kids at the christmas concert."

"it was an accident!" ibuki cries out, wiping his tears.

"you told all the boys you were gonna' do it!" megumi retaliates, rolling his eyes as well. the resembalance is uncanny.

"nonsense!" mr sawamura exclaims, standing from his chair. you rub your temple, headache ensuing. mrs sawamura only shakes her head as her son sticks her tongue out at satoru. "ibuki would never be jealous of someone like megumi!"

for the first time since he began, satoru's smile drops. he stands as well, towering over the other man. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"okay, let's dail it down, please." you say, standing up as well. you watch as the two men do as you say and seat themselves, all the while glaring at each other. "now, it is a two day suspention. no exceptions. and the kids will have to complete all assigned work i have for them. here."

you give the two boys a folder each, filled with a short workbook and other things, and you don't even allow mr and mrs sawamura to complain before you stand up and bow your head.

"both children are in trouble for participating in the fight." you explain calmly, furrowed brows, "however, this is not the first instance ibuki has been caught talking about other people's privacy. i believe this is an issue to be solved at home."

your last sentence makes satoru giggle and stare at the couple, judging them. they, in return, begin mumbling in their placesnamd crossing their arms.

"thank you for taking the time out of your day to discuss this unfortunate event. i shall see you kids on thursday. good evening." you say blankly, already grabbing your belongings and heading out the door.

satoru is quick to catch up to you before you get into your car.

"hey, ms l/n!" he calls, holding megumi's hand as he gets dragged along in the carpark.

"mr gojo." you reply, expecting him to start explaining megumi's actions.

"thank you for standing up for megumi today." he says, making you stop, "it's good to know that he has someone looking out for him at school."

"oh... i, uh, i don't mind. he's my student, and he does very well in my classes." you explain, smiling at the kid, "how's your cheek, megumi?"

"doesn't hurt at all..." he retorts, looking to the ground. you only grin.

satoru then holds out his other hand. "you can call me 'satoru'. i want to take you out for dinner as a 'thanks' for helping out megumi."

you stop before shaking his hand. "i'm y/n. i'd love you, but..." your eyes drift to megumi, who only turns away with a pout. "i try to keep my work life and personal life separate."

satoru lets out a small chuckle before nodding his head. "i understand. thank you, ms l/n. you're megumi's favourite teacher."

"hey!" megumi grumbles, jabbing at the white-haired man's stomach, "ugh! let's just go home!"

you wave as megumi drags satoru to a nice black car, and they drive to the school gates as you enter your own vehicle.

you're incredibly surprised when you are informed by the principal that fushiguro megumi is leaving the school after only four months of being under your care. you begin to question why he was leaving. were you not a suitable teacher for him? what was wrong with your teaching style?

megumi explains to you that he's upset he's leaving because he actually doesn't want to go. he wants to stay, and he has never complained about you to satoru. you asked why he's moving schools, and he only shrugs and says satoru told him he would be.

when satoru comes to pick up megumi, you make sure to stand at his side with your arms crossed. the man is pleasantly surprised when he sees you with an annoyed expression.

"ms l/n, lovely seeing you again." he says, patting his adopted son's head. the boy scowls and pushes his hand away, stepping closer to you.

"mr gojo, i'd like to ask why you are making megumi move schools when he is perfectly fine here. is this a problem with me? is my way of teaching not up to your standards?" you begin, looking at him dead in the eye.

satoru chuckles, hands in his pockets, "not at all, y/n. megumi actually does pretty well under your care."

"so what is it?"

"i don't want him to be your student." he hums out, shrugging his shoulders, "because you don't mix work with your personal life, i figured i'd take us out of your work life. if megumi is no longer your student, then i can be your boyfriend."

your stilled, frozen as he smiles dumbly at you. any teachers or parents close enough to hear your conversation stop to giggle behind their hands, enjoying the short display of romance. you furrow your brows before uncrossing your arms, tilting your head to the side.

"i—" you begin, pursing your lips and covering your face a little. he lets out a small laugh. "satoru, you can't just..."

"if you care that much about megumi's education, you're more than welcome to come over for dinner and we can tutor him." he offers, grinning at you with such softness that you immediately hum in agreement, "that's great! c'mon, megumi, you can see ms l/n saturday night. say 'goodbye' to your friends and we'll go."

megumi then runs off to bid his friends 'goodbye', all of them crying out about never seeing each other again. in the meantime, satoru stands at your side, hands in his pockets.

"so," he begins, "can i take you out for dinner this weekend? megumi will be out of this school by then."

"i don't appreciate you taking megumi out of this school just because you wanted to ask me out." you huff out, tilting your head at him.

satoru smiles wider, bumping his hip with yours. “just imagine all the other things i’m willing to do to score a chance with you.”

“whatever.” you chuckle, looking back to him, “one date, i will give you one chance.”

“that is all i need. thank you, y/n.” he responds, winking at you. he turns back to megumi, waving his hand. “c’mon, kid! time to go home!”

as they leave, satoru shoots you one last smile and you swear you can hear your heartbeat quicken.

that was the last time megumi was ever your student and the first time satoru made you swoon.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #satoru #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader

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ot3 · 1 year

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The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

What is it, and why you should read it.

(Art by purple)

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere is a currently updating webserial by author Lurina. It's one of my favorite things I've read in a long while and I'd like to convince you all to give it a chance.

My elevator pitch is this: A time-loop murder mystery directly inspired by Umineko, with a lot of similar vibes to the Locked Tomb Trilogy - partially due to it's meditations on grief and mortality and partially due to it's far-future magical sci-fi world where we follow a fucked up lesbian necromancer on a task she is determined to see through to the end. A deeply complex, unique, and believable world that plays hosts to one of the best interpersonal dynamics I've read.

In a future so far-flung that it is past the heat death of the universe, humanity has constructed a new society that is post-scarcity but not post-stratification. Utsushikome of Fusai is one amongst a class of prodigious young medical arcanists (essentially grad students) who are invited to visit a recently legitimized conclave of top-of-the-line researchers studying immortality. Accompanying Su is her best friend Ran, a fellow arcanist. Over the course of the novel we begin to slowly unravel exactly what ulterior motives have brought them to this conclave and how events in their childhoods and years of working toward their shared goal has warped their relationship into what we now see. This relationship is the crown jewel of Flower's narrative, and getting to peel back the layers of it as you read is a delight.

Like Umineko, Flower is a murder mystery that prevents itself with in-universe Rules that dictate the murders' parameters, meaning there's a lot to chew on for anyone who likes solving mysteries. For those that don't, like myself, Flower offers instead a richly developed world and plenty of open questions about the sociopolitical and metaphysical implications of its own worldbuilding.

Below the cut, I'll go into more detail about the series (without spoilers!) for those of you whose interest has been piqued.

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere is currently ongoing, updating every few weeks. It's several hundred thousand words, so if you're looking for something substantial to keep you entertained, you've got it. As you might expect from the length, the pacing is decently slow. I don't see this as a bad thing at all, because within this pacing Lurina dripfeeds the readers enough new and interesting information at a regular rate that it never feels like your time is being wasted. But if you can't handle slow burns, I wouldn't recommend this one for you.

If you enjoyed the Zero Escape series and liked that they stopped solving murder puzzles to infodump about fringe science, I think you'll get a lot out of Flower. Characters are frequently interrupting their life-or-death scenarios to have lofty, philosophical and political discussions. It's a ton of fun if you like reading characters argue.

'People have to sleep.' 'People have to work.' 'People have to die.' But those were just vague rules, phrasing I'd used because it had been easier in the context of that conversation. What really mattered, on the day-to-day level, was the idea that it was all for something. If someone invented a elixir that made people not to need to sleep, it would, in retrospect, recontextualize all nights everyone ever wasted sleeping as wastes of time. Not something that occurred for some inherent purpose, but whims of circumstance, a tragedy of when you happened to be born. If you accepted that all unfair things in the world could be removed, if only someone knew how - fatigue, labor, death - then to exist in the world we had now, with all its grotesque imperfections, was to know that you had been violated by fate.

Along those lines it's just got a sense of humor I really enjoy. Pretty dry and cavalier. It manages to keep the mood light without feeling like it's undermining it's own stakes. I'm particularly fond of Su's penchant for telling incredibly depressing suicide jokes that just Do Not Land.

The peer pressure cut into me like a hot knife. I hesitated a little, biting my lip. "Well, uh, okay. I'll just tell a quick one." I swallowed, my mind quickly scrambling. "Okay, so, there's a woman who runs a dispensary for second hand goods. She sees a man come in who's a regular customer. He's kind of a mess-- Has a big beard, a bad complexion. He buys a razor, and tells her he needs it to clean himself up, because he has a date." I could see that I now had Ophelia's attention and that Kam was looking pleased with herself, but Ran was watching me, too. I could see the look in her eyes. It screamed at me, with such vividity that it could be sold at an art gallery: You better not be telling a suicide joke right now, or we're going to have a talk. But it was too late. The wheels were already in motion.

As I mentioned up top, the relationship between Ran and Su is just one of my favorite interpersonal dynamics ever. Period. The author is playing some insanely complicated 5th dimensional yuri chess and I am absolutely here for it as someone who likes characters who are deeply devoted to each other in a way that is deeply deeply fraught. I cant emphasize enough how obsessed I am with what they have going on.

Additionally, as stated, the worldbuilding in Flower is top tier. The author clearly understands how every part of her world functions, which makes the moral quandaries and politics presented all the more impactful because they're very believable. It's hard to talk about Flower's world without spoiling too much of the specifics that get slowly revealed, but it doesn't fall back on any typical sci-fi standard fare and feels like a breath of fresh air amongst recycled and repetitive worldbuilding tropes.

A lot of really fun side characters. Strong voices for all of the supporting cast (♥♥Kamrusepa♥♥) and even though not every character gets their own arc, they all clearly have plenty of interiority. Once again, another thing that makes Flower feel very believable despite it's absurdities.

Autism

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary with anyone?" She eyed him. "Anyone who seemed tense?" "Saoite, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but half of our class is so autistic that they constantly seem tense. You might as well ask me to find a specific turd in a sewer." "Just answer the question, please," she replied flatly.

Guys it's really good just trust me I don't want to spoil you for the more intricate plot beats but they're doing some crazy shit here. It's never a bad time to support an independent author's project. If you're sick of corporate mass-media and stuff needing to be marketable, getting into independent works owned and supported by individual creators is a great way to push back against that. I highly recommend it.

#media recs #the flower that bloomed nowhere

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crimson-and-clover-1717 · 26 days

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‘You left me for Mary?’

On the one hand, it’s obvious why Ed is upset by this. It is framed as a betrayal, an infidelity, directly in conflict with what Stede and Ed shared previously, however briefly.

But I think there’s a little more to this.

Ed’s angry. Because to Ed, Stede left him for a lie. Stede’s sexuality is complex, but however it can be defined, it does not involve a cis woman. Ed knows this. He knows this. You only have to observe the incredulity on Ed’s face when Anne Bonny says Stede kissed her. He is flummoxed and bewildered and so, so hurt by learning Stede returned to Mary.

The hurt runs much deeper than Stede’s single act. Stede has colluded with society’s norms after appearing to reject them, social mores which actively hurt someone such as Ed - I trusted you.

Ed knows he lives in a comphet society, even if on the fringes, within a pirate subculture with differing norms and values. It’s the reason why Ed attacks the wedding party. It’s the reason why he keeps the cake-toppers and attempts to imprint a version of himself over the top of the bride. Ed tries desperately to erase the smooth-faced, upper-class white woman, the perfect companion to the smooth-faced, upper-class white man. The thing he can never be. It’s what society upholds as correct sexual, emotional and moral behaviour. We hear the words of the vicar at the wedding on the ship clear as day: ‘The natural condition of humanity is base and vile. It’s the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves [white, hetro, upper class] to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony’.

Ed cannot belong to a man like Stede. Ed is too male, too brown, too low-born. He is part of the ‘rabble’. After painting himself upon the bride, he pushes both figures out of the broken window into the sea. To kill the thing that can never be, the ‘base and vile’ want within him. A want that is condemned. And by pushing the bride figurine into the sea, he foreshadows the death of the man who would ever think such a love and life could be his. Himself. It is a truly desperate moment of self-loathing.

But Stede does come back. His actions did not occur in isolation. He is as much a victim of a comphet society as Ed, despite some of the privileges being white and upper-class bring. He rejects finally the comphet grand narrative lie of his upbringing and returns to the truth of his heart and being.

Stede finally tells the too male, too brown, too low-born Ed that actually, he is endgame for him. Not within a society which will crush them, but in a world they can build and create for themselves.

This can be whatever we want it to be.

Eventually, eventually, Ed heals enough to listen and believe a little, and see enough of a future in which he can simply be loved by Stede and love Stede in return.

Which is one of the many, many reasons this show will break and remake my heart forever.

#ed teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #mary bonnet #comphet #race #class #gender #norms and values #pirate subculture #endgame #truth #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd meta

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months

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Hi!! How do you think potential meet cutes with Jason would go? Do you think he’d be instantly smitten? He strikes me as the type to get a crush on you since the first meeting but maybe I’m just delusional 🥰

My honest opinion but I don’t think Jason likes smut books. He doesn’t mind a little bit of smut but would much prefer if it was nonexistent or didn’t take up a ridiculous amount of pages/chapters in the book in general.

I’m also a delusional twat anon who believes Jason would feel something upon first meetings, but firstly I have to heavily disclose that most of your run ins with one another would be in a book store/cafe, at least more so then anywhere else. (Book reader Jason supremacy!)

So to say that your interest was peaked upon first spotted a six foot something, beast of a man standing in front of the romance section, holding two different books -which were both written by the Jane Austen- in each hand was an understatement.

Normally you wouldn’t expect a man like Jason in the romance section of a small, quite but quaint bookstore/cafe, withholding an internal conflict over some books in his head as though his life depended on it. However the fact still stands that you deeply appreciate a man with good taste in his personal readings, and wasn’t afraid to indulge in the romance genre.

It probably also didn’t help that he was a conventionally attractive man with short dark hair with a tuft of white embedded in his fringe and wearing a simple read hoodie and jeans, a simple attire that anyone could wear, but on him he made it seem as though it were a main staple of his wardrobe.

Jason, knowing when he’s being watched, as quick to look over his shoulder but what he wasn’t expecting was to see someone as cute and stunning as you standing there. He’s a little tongue tied but that was mainly from surprise, and for all of Jason’s hard attempts of trying to act natural, it only made for a spectacle that you couldn’t help but view as endearing and kinda cute.

‘You alright there?’ You’d ask with a smile.

‘Yeah. I’m good, fine even.’ Jason replied, internally cursing himself for being caught off guard because he was too involved in debating which book to take home to read.

‘So…You like Jane Austen?’ You asked, trying to make room for a conversation to occur between the two of you.

‘Wha-‘ Jason looks down at the books in either of his hands and chuckles. ‘Yeah, she’s one of my favourite alongside the likes of Mary Shelley and Louisa May Alcott.’ He answers and he could tell that he had gotten your approval with the little hum of acknowledgment.

‘Do you come here often?’ You then said before adding with an awkward laugh of your own, ‘I mean I come here quite frequently as it’s the only bookstore in town that has proper books that aren’t smut books, and i have never seen you before until well…today.’ Jason smiles, finding himself growing to like you with every passing moment as he felt himself grow relaxed within your presence, especially now that he had long deducted that you weren’t a real threat.

‘I’m with you on that pretence, it’s seems that nowadays all the bookshelves in most stores are prominently smut books of lacklustre quality and story structure.’ Jason agreed, noting being a fan of those types of books himself, Jason had found it becoming increasingly difficult to find decent books that weren’t smut, badly written girl boss self inserts, or just poorly written in general. So when he stumbled across this little book store on his way home and took a chance by entering the store, only to find himself spending way longer than he had initially thought.

And that was just in the romance section alone. That’s how Jason knew this bookstore was unlike all the rest in Gotham.

‘But as to answer your question, I come here on the off chance when I’m looking for a new book to read, seeing as I have read and re-read the books in my personal possession multiple times over.’ Jason admitted and feeling a little bashful but reading had proven to be a form of escapism for him- especially after everything he has been through recently- he felt as though this escape from reality was severely overdue.

‘You’ve got your own collection of books? Am I allowed to assume that they’re mainly Jane Austen’s body of work or?’ You trailed off, feeling yourself growing more confident with talking to Jason as though it was as easy as breathing. Finally you had someone to indulge in this sort of conversation with without it feeling forced and fall to the wayside, leaving you both to soak in the awkward and stifling aftermath.

Jason smiled genuinely as he bowed his head and raised his hands. ‘You got me down to a science…’ he trailed off once realising that he didn’t know your name and cursed himself for his lack of even the basic of etiquette.

‘Y/n.’ You told him with a smile.

‘Y/n.’ He tested out your name, letting it linger for a little bit and quickly came to the conclusion that he liked it. He liked it a lot. And you liked it also, especially when he was the one saying it the way he did just now.

‘Well it’s nice to meet you y/n. My names Jason.’ Jason then said and he knew that he’d come to like the way you said his name as though it were a mythical word;

‘Jason.’ You uttered, saying every word with care and respect that it left a weird feeling within Jason’s chest that only seems to grow and spread throughout his body the more you talked.

You two would talk for literal hours about your favourite book genres, characters and so on to the point that the owner of the bookstore would have to remove you both from the premises himself. He’d then proceed to go on about how you both were just taking the piss at this point and muttering about having to stay an while longer to properly close up shop, count the cash float, and so on before then making the journey home.

He honestly didn’t care about the books in Jason’s hand, just lets him have them for free on the pretence that both he and you get the fuck out before shutting and locking the door behind you both.

‘Well…’ Jason trailed off, tucking the books under his arm. ‘Will I see you again? Preferably here?’ He asks and you smiled sheepishly.

‘Depends, will you?’ You countered and Jason could feel the smile on his lips grow at it’s own accord. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely coming back if I get free books for every time I stay until closing hours.’ He jokes and you lightly smack his bicep, keeping your hand there for an unreasonably long time but it’s not like either you or Jason cared in that moment.

‘Then I guess I’m obligated to come back here to help you piss off the bookstore owner.’ You replied with a smile of your own as you both kept looking into the other’s eyes. You both knew something had blossomed here today at this run down bookstore, and you both hoped that it could continue like that for a long while, but neither of you were willing to admit your embarrassingly rapidly growing attraction to one another. That could wait for another time.

‘Great.’ Jason said.

‘Great.’ You echoed. ‘See you soon I guess.’

‘Soon can’t come fast enough.’ Jason replied ask you both went your separate ways with eager anticipation of your next interaction.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfiction

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it-happened-one-fic · 8 months

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Nothing to Gain - Azul

Author Notes: I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this fic. Part of me really likes and another part of me.... Either way, I decided I might as well post it since I really didn't know what I wanted to post for this week. This fic was written while I listened to "Whataya Want From Me" by Adam Lambert which definitely affected the overall tone of this fic. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-netural reader/ fluff/ some angst/ pining/ romance/ mentions of Octavinelle and Scarabia overblot so spoilers for those chapters

Word Count: 1820

There was something frightening about relying on others. It was something that Azul had noticed before and was the reason he preferred to surround himself with only the most reliable individuals.

He could rely on them, and they could rely on him.

But his overblot had shaken him to his core. He’d questioned even his most basic beliefs about himself, and, to be honest, he still wasn’t entirely sure what to think of the events of that day.

However, neither Jade nor Floyd had changed their opinions of him or abandoned him after that day, as he’d feared they would. Instead, they remained by his side, as they always did. But there was a benefit to being there. Even after his overblot, Azul was still housewarden and had a say in how the Octavinelle dorm was run.

There might be some cost, but the benefit was great enough that the twins stayed, and Azul was comfortable with that. He understood it.

What he didn’t understand was you.

You stood nothing to gain by being kind to him and supporting him. If you were a normal person, you would either attempt to blackmail him or avoid him. Only allowing enough interaction to show how much you detested him for what he’d put you through.

But you apparently weren’t a normal person. Because you stayed by him and helped him through the aftermath of the overblot.

Soothing the fleeing students whom he’d robbed of their spells and talents. Assuring them that all was well and such a thing wouldn’t occur again. Reminding them what a good, competent housewarden he was.

It hadn’t been easy, and it had taken you, Jade, Floyd, and Azul all working together to cover up everything that had happened and finally put his overblot to rest. And the entire time you were there, it made him nervous.

But at least after it was done, you would leave. That only made sense. There was no reason for you to stay past that point.

Azul had surmised that you must just be one of those people who liked to see their work done. Sort of like Jack, who’d been with you since the very start, even though he quite obviously had a distaste for both Azul and the tweels.

And, as expected, Jack left as soon as everything was settled. He had no further business with Octavinelle, and all was well on that front. But you didn’t leave.

Rather, you kept appearing in the very fringes of Azul’s vision. Smiling and offering a wave that was always returned by at least one of the tweels, as Azul found himself faltering.

Why were you still here? There was nothing to gain.

By the time winter break had come, he’d come up with a new plan and explanation for your strange behavior. You were always around because you wanted remuneration for your services. That made sense.

Having the tweels offer you a place to stay over winter break with an ever-benevolent warning about the fee was easy enough. An offer for your payment that wasn’t grounded in worry for the fact you were staying in the most run-down building on campus, no matter what Floyd said.

But you hadn’t accepted, and Azul was lost once more. You’d turned the offer down with a fond smile, joking that you didn’t want a bill like the one his offer would mean hanging over your head.

But that was that. Azul was sure he wouldn’t hear anything from you, at least until the next school year had begun. And by then, he would surely have figured out what it was that you wanted.

But he did hear from you. You’d quite literally crashed into the Mostro Lounge, landing in a heap on the ground. Covered in sand and trembling in fear as you’d looked up at the horde of angry Scarabia students that had come to collect you.

And Azul repaid you right then and there. He’d shielded you from those who’d sought you out and handled that matter promptly.

It wasn’t as if there had been no reward for his actions after all. He’d assured himself that this was all just to get information on how, exactly, you’d managed to upset the students of Scarabia.

And that had led to another debacle, not entirely unlike what had happened to him. Jamil’s overblot.

Despite what Jade and Floyd may have teasingly suggested, Azul knew he’d only assisted you to give himself an in to winning over Jamil. And as for you spending the night safely in Octavinelle under his and the tweels protection for free one night…. That was just another part of his plan. Nothing odd at all.

By the end of the winter break, he’d repaid you, now had a perfectly good excuse to seek Jamil out for conversation, and everything was as it should be.

Or rather, it should have been.

Some part of Azul had seemed to grow cold when he’d seen you run into Ace and Deuce’s arms just after the Scarabia overblot, though. Perfectly happy to leave him behind in favor of your two friends.

And now Azul was having to question himself. Why did that upset him? He’d wanted you gone and handled because there had been no reason for you to be around him. Your lingering had made no sense, and his moroseness was equally ridiculous.

…. Right? Azul wasn’t expecting much as the next term started. He was fully prepared to go back to the way things were. With you hardly ever noticing his presence, while he would do his very best to ignore yours.

But he didn’t have to ignore you. Because as soon as he saw you in the hallway, you were turning to look his way. A smile on your face and a hand raised in cheerful greeting.

And suddenly Azul was frightened. What did you want? Why did you seem so happy to see him when you had your friends right by your side?

There was no benefit to staying near him, and you had seen him at his weakest, lowest, and most vile. So shouldn’t you want to have nothing to do with him?

He’d overblotted and attacked not only you but your friends. There was no reason to look so happy in this instance.

In his confusion, Azul found himself walking towards you quickly. Stopping as you looked at him with a slightly startled expression.

“Angelfish, if we might talk,” He started before glancing at both of the young men who flanked you with confused expressions that matched yours, save the wariness in their eyes.

“Alone,” He finished a little more firmly than he’d intended, but if you noticed, you didn’t react.

Instead, you just nodded, a slightly uncertain smile appearing on your face as you responded, “Okay.”

You waved off your two obviously concerned friends and followed Azul without a single concern. Only confusion.

Like you really did trust him. Like you really weren’t concerned in the slightest by his reputation or the things you knew that he did.

As if his past actions didn’t bother you and you weren’t the slightest bit upset by how he’d attempted to shoo you away with paltry offerings.

And it frightened Azul. He didn’t know what you wanted, and he didn’t know what he wanted.

It was only once he was sure it was only the two of you that he turned to face you once more. Dropping any facade he had of confidence the very moment his eyes met yours.

“What do you want from me?” His voice quivered slightly, but he stood firm as you looked at him with utter confusion.

But then, as if you saw something in the depths of his pale blue eyes, your expression shifted to one of concern for him, and you stepped closer. Your voice dropping to a whisper that was perfectly filled with loving worry and that only made Azul feel more lost than he had before, “Azul? What do you mean?”

Azul had lived the entire first part of his life in the very deepest part of the ocean, but he knew that in this moment he was well beyond his depth.

Because suddenly all Azul could really think was that he didn’t want to let you down. Not when, as your simplistic question had just evidenced, you’d never been with him for any ulterior motive.

No, you stayed for a reason that Azul himself was only just now beginning to understand. You stayed because you cared for Azul, and that was enough.

And, looking back, Azul knew all those things he’d done in the past…. Offering you a room in Octavinelle for a fee only to waive that fee the very moment you’d appeared in front of him, frightened and covered in sand…. All of that had been him not wanting you to come to harm.

Because even after seeing him at his most shameful, you hadn’t judged him as weak, untalented, or anything less. Instead, you looked at him like he had just as much worth as anyone else here.

And you genuinely cared for him. In your own way, you’d been supporting him ever since then, as he leaned on you without even realizing it.

Knowing all of that now, it felt wrong to ask you what you wanted. Because was it really you that wanted something, or was it him?

You continued to look at him, worriedly searching his eyes for an answer as one of your hands reached up to cup his cheek, “Azul?” Your voice was so soft, and it nearly broke him as he realized exactly how wonderful you were and how it didn’t make any sense for you to be here with him when he was so perfectly broken.

But he inhaled, a smile working its way onto his face as he let his hand cover your own, “I’m sorry, Angelfish. I… Just don’t give up on me yet.”

Your eyes widened as his hand wrapped around yours and pulled it from his face before squeezing it lightly, “I’m having to work all of this out and…”

He trailed off, faltering as he searched for words, but you only smiled. Shaking your head slightly before you responded, “No, I understand. You need time, and what happened to you… It messed you up.”

Azul nodded, half-touched that you could still be so understanding despite the confusing circumstances he’d put you in, and half-disappointed in himself.

Because he could only hope that you would keep appearing in peripheral vision and helping him get through the difficult days.

And he would do his best. He was slowly coming to understand what it was to care for someone without a cost-benefit relationship. And even if he didn’t know exactly what he wanted from you, he would with time, and he would repay you tenfold for everything you’d given him.

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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gevivys (beauty) │ Chapter 7: Confrontation

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Daemon returns to King's Landing after ten years in exile, intent on rekindling his affair with Rhaenyra. He wasn't expecting you - the revelation changes everything.

Hello, everyone! AGAIN! Because this was originally a single chapter, I didn’t want to leave it on the cliffhanger I did with Chapter 6. Therefore, ya get a two-for-one deal today! YAY! Just got some edits to do of the remaining three chaps and then this instalment SHOULD be done and dusted. Thank you to my slap daddy @ewanmitchellcrumbs and my boo @randomdragonfires for graciously allowing me to yeet this at them in group chat!

TRIGGERS: incest, purity culture, violence, age gap.

Whenever something in his life goes wrong, the solution can be found in a brothel.

It is a precept that has ruled Daemon from the moment he had first seen a whore’s tits at the impressionable age of thirteen, Viserys having finally capitulated to setting him on the path to manhood. He’d found it between the thighs of a buxom redhead, or so he had thought. Now, he’s not so sure. Nonetheless, he finds himself retreating to familiarity of fragrant burning oils and musk, of moans and sighs and the allure of gleaming flesh at times of struggle. It is where he had buried his vexation and frustration over his brother’s repeated refusals to take him seriously, where he had mourned the loss of his nephew, where he had spent the past ten years fucking away the anger and the guilt and the weight of everything he was.

It is where he has gone now, in the wake of that awful, senseless altercation with the lord of the Reach after he had dared to—Hm. Don’t think of it. He’s not looking forward to the scolding his brother will give him when he returns.

Or, it occurs to him, what will come to light as a result of my actions.

That might be the very worst part of the whole affair. When the king goes hunting for a reason that his wayward brother would strike down a member of the nobility, he knows the event alone will not satisfy as a full account of what took place. For why would Daemon Targaryen come to blows over mere implication? And, for that matter, why would Daemon Targaryen be present at Lord Tyrell’s meeting with the princess at all? From there, the web comes unbound, and he is discovered.

Fuck’s sake. This is not how he intended to broach the subject with Viserys.

The familiar sounds of breathy moans and slapping flesh fill the room as he sits upon the chaise, surveying the wares and nursing his fifth goblet of wine. He is pleasantly relaxed from the drink and the heady scent of fucking, the thrum of arousal warming his veins and pooling in his belly. It is not enough to coax a rise from him, but the ever-present stimulation is its own form of satisfaction. While his current associate—one of those on the fringes of his usual circle, an eager lad named Desmond or Desward or some such appellation—blathers on, Daemon idly casts his eyes around the room, taking in the abundance of unclothed forms, the roaming of hands and bouncing of breasts, the open-mouthed groaning of the whores as they earn their keep on their knees, against the wall, over the chair.

“… Which one do you like best, my prince?”

He snaps back to attention at the direct inquiry from his companion. Desmond jerks his chin toward the figures in various stages of undress, cheap jewels glittering under the light of the chandelier.

A much nicer establishment this time around, Daemon muses. He doesn’t voice this aloud, however. “Hm. That one, perhaps.”

He lets his eyes linger on the taller whore, appreciating the dusky glow of her hair as it spirals ink-dark from her crown. She twists her body winningly upon realising he is watching her, biting her lip and tossing her head back to display the elegant line of her neck. She’s not to his tastes, but that is precisely her appeal.

“Thought you would’ve gone with that pale-haired girl there,” Desward says, pointing out the smaller, white-haired waif prancing about with her gown peeled down to her waist, modest tits springing with each lively step.

Daemon swallows. She reminds him of you. No. He doesn’t want to think of you, not after the way you had looked at him. “Explain,” he says coldly.

This man hadn’t been present for those occasions in which his little entanglement with Rhaenyra had come up. So how has he come to that conclusion on his own?

Desmond’s expression twists apprehensively. “I just… everyone knows of your taste for silver-haired maidens, milord.”

Everyone does, do they? He’s not surprised to hear the rumours circling of his predilection for maidens, but the distinction here is new. There’d never been enough common stock with Valyrian features in Westeros for such preference to be made public beyond the closer of his old associates, and talk of the misconduct that had gotten him banished was never all that widespread, or so he has since learned. He can only think of one who might have reignited speculation. Fucking Dargood.

Later, he thinks, striding toward the object of his interest. I’ll deal with him later.

His irritation boils his blood just enough to incite a twitch of intrigue from his cock as he casts his eye over her critically. She’s a pleasing enough shape, though the hair is too fine and the mouth too small. Good enough.

“I hope I am to your liking, my prince,” she murmurs, pushing her shoulders back so that her form is bared a little more easily to his regard.

He grunts, eyeing the finely groomed mound that conceals his eve’s prize, and he cannot help but extend his hand to cup the plumpness of her, to trace a digit through silken petals to toy with the bud at the apex.

Either she’s had a customer already or she’s had her fun before venturing down, he mulls, rubbing the sticky wetness from her soft, swollen entrance between thumb and finger. The give is not the same as it would have been from grease alone. Ah—a whore worthy of the name.

Daemon allows her to grab him by the wrist and lead him through the room, through a darkened corridor and into an empty chamber. ‘Tis one of several, he observes, and quite finely furnished for an establishment of ill-repute. Of course, they are visiting the Street of Silk this time. The standards are far higher than that dilapidated hovel in Flea Bottom.

He pushes the girl away when she makes for the buttons of his jacket.

“I’m not intending to linger, pet,” he says, leading her hand down to the laces of his breeches. She nods, smirking impishly as she works at the fastenings. When they come loose, he presses her back onto the bed, reaching into his pants to withdraw his cock.

“My prince!” She is already spreading her legs like a little slut, fingers plucking hedonistically at her nipples. He leers, fondling the soft warmth of her exposed cunt. She is primed and ready for him, a consummate professional in her art.

He wishes the sight stirred him more.

“Call me ‘Uncle’.” He damns his weakness even as he crawls on top of her and shoves her legs further apart, notching his cock at her entrance.

He’d not had this fucking obsession before you—back when he’d thought himself enamoured with your sister, it had been enough to simply eke out his lusts on the nearest hole available, quick and rough and barely memorable. How you have unmanned him! How pathetic he has become. How woeful it is that he cannot endure something so instinctive, so primordial as mating without the thought of you to help him along.

The girl blinks; smiles. “Uncle! Oh, Uncle,” she breathes, the inflection all wrong, sounding nothing like you.

He plunges harshly into her, the glide hot and wet and too easy. It is nothing like taking your maidenhead would feel like, nothing like the tight resistance of a nervous virgin. He closes his eyes and pounds into the whore below him. This time, it is different. He is in control, he knows he is picturing you and he lets himself, permits the mirage of you to fill his mind’s eye and imagines the way your eyes might widen with mingling trust and hesitation as he breaches you.

“Uncle, my prince, fuck—”

He slaps a hand over her mouth, irritated by the disruption of his fantasy. You would never say such a thing in the midst of your deflowering, he is sure of it. When the whore’s voice is stifled, pitchy whimpers emanating from under his palm, he can almost convince himself it is you, can almost lose himself in the slip of cunt and glide of skin.

Daemon moans your name again—the game is up and it’s not long before he’s either exiled or given you, so what is the point in pretence—and suckles dark bruises down her throat, imagining it is the pale skin of your beguiling flesh. When he opens his eyes to stare into yours, he is confronted with the dull green of the whore’s.

What am I doing? What am I doing? Usually, the shame and aggravation sinks in once the firestorm of ecstasy has burnt itself out. It is just his luck that it strikes mid-coupling now.

“Fuck.” He begins to soften despite his hips driving a determined rhythm, desperate to keep the illusion alive just a little longer. It is not to be. “Fuck.”

He pulls out of the whore, sitting back on his haunches. He cannot go through with it. He cannot slink away, bury himself in a whore and pretend as though it’s you, not when he could be trying to win the real thing. He cannot disgrace you by fucking another and wishing it was your face he sees. It would have been preferable had the revelation come sooner—or later. He does not enjoy exposing his weakness before peasant stock.

He sighs; wipes his hand over his eyes; tucks himself back into his breeches, knotting the laces once more.

“My prince?” she asks, legs splayed and cunt raw and red from his vigorous pace.

He smiles wryly down at her, thumbing three silvers into her hand.

“My apologies, pet,” he says, pulling himself off the bed and heading to the door. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

When Viserys had summoned him after his night in the brothel so long ago, he’d known immediately what it was about.

Foolish of him, really, to have said what he did. “The heir for a day.” To be fair, he’d not meant it as a mockery of Viserys’s pain or Aemma’s suffering, of Rhaenyra’s grief or your confusion. For all the commons had jibed of his anger and resentment, the Rogue Prince forced down the line of succession by a mere newborn, he had never truly felt umbrage toward his own nephew. How could he? He remembers cradling that boy in his arms, still numb with the shock of his cousin’s death, his brother nowhere to be seen. He remembers those gasping wheezes of his, tiny lips tinged purple with the effort of drawing air into lungs that did not wish to rise. Baelon had passed on in only a few hours, taking with him the realm’s hope for another heir. Someone other than him.

The king’s vitriol was understandable, if unjustified; in a rare display of restraint, Daemon had allowed the man to rail at him over the perceived slight, all too aware of who had been whispering in his ear. It was clear that Otto Hightower had gleaned the details from one of those nearby on the night of his unfortunate blunder, and had used the information to strip him of his standing.

He should have known better than to trust those he used to surround himself with. He should have learned by now.

Daemon returns to the keep as the hour of the ghosts sets in, the dim illumination of the torches bracketing the walls casting an eerie reminiscence upon his path. He’s faced Viserys’s wrath one too many times, those occasions blurring together so that he is several iterations of himself simultaneously.

Daemon the soldier. Daemon the drunkard. Daemon the outcast. He walks in the shadow of his former selves.

It is not long before he is confronted by the silent, scowling form of the Lord Commander. He holds his arms up, palms out, a clear signal of surrender.

“I assume my brother wishes to see me?” he asks, only to be provided a brief nod in return.

A man of few words, he notes to himself. ‘Tis welcome to see that some things don’t change.

He is honestly surprised that he isn’t dragged into the Great Hall again—it is already a significant departure from the previous two events that had gotten him exiled. There is less substantiation and more happenstance in these circumstances, he supposes. Well, with the exception of his assault on Tyrell. There is no denying that occurred. But not even Viserys would take a flowery fuck like him at his word, and he is sure to have untruths aplenty to impart.

Instead, he is escorted into the small council chamber, where Viserys sits alone at the head of the table, staring pensively at the wood grain. He barely acknowledges Ser Harrold’s pronouncement. Abruptly, he sits up, takes in the view of his brother and his Lord Commander, and clenches his teeth.

“You may leave us, Ser Harrold,” he says, eyes fixed upon Daemon.

He steels himself. This time, he has nothing to be ashamed of—except for his conduct with Tyrell, and maybe the whore, perhaps both… At least this time he isn’t being accused of lechery.

“I had thought you tempered by the years away.” The king’s grip is white-knuckled upon the arm of his seat. “And yet I learn today a most curious thing: the assault of a noble lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and accusations leveraged by that very same lord against my beloved daughter’s reputation. He claims her to be entangled in an affair with another. Who could have done such a thing, I asked? Who other than Lord Flea Bottom himself—my very own brother?”

Never mind, then. By the end of his oration, his words sound more like the sibilant hiss of a snake than the utterances of a man.

“Brother—”

“You will be silent, wretch!” Viserys snaps, smacking his palm down on the table. His pockmarked face has flushed ugly red, apoplectic with thinly veiled fury. “How could you do this? Ruining Rhaenyra wasn’t enough for you, is that it? You had to go and spoil my second child, my beloved girl, for your own selfish amusement?”

“I have done nothing, Viserys!”

“I am your king!” He pushes himself from his chair by his hand and stalks over to stand before Daemon. He is limping again as he is wont to do these days. “You will address me as ‘Your Grace’!”

“Your Grace.” Daemon bows his head slightly in deference. He cannot afford to anger the man further. “While I’ll confess to the abuse levied upon Lord Tyrell, I cannot admit to something I didn’t do. I haven’t touched her—”

“Oh, you haven’t?” Viserys laughs, but it is a repugnant, mocking sound. His features are firmly arranged into an expression of revulsion. “So Ser Criston’s reports of your—indecent behaviour are falsities, is that correct?”

“Cole?” Daemon asks incredulously. “The man hates me, Viserys. Why the fuck are you listening to him?”

His brother makes a noise of outrage.

“Very well.” A cruel gleam lingers in his eyes. “And what is this I hear of you—you—cavorting about with whores, encouraging them to playact as my daughter so that you may seek your pleasure?”

Daemon’s stomach sinks. Oh, fuck.

Viserys continues. “Your man from the City Watch—Dargood—had little issue telling the tale. What say you to that?” A great many things, brother, and none of them for your ears. The king sneers. “I have half a mind to cut your cock from you and remedy your wickedness once and for all!”

“What would you have me do? Lie? I’ll admit to fucking whores and pretending they were her. Tell me you’ve never let your desires rule your bedsport!” Daemon lets out a derisive scoff. “But I’ll not stand here and be accused of undue conduct when I’ve been nothing short of chivalrous in your daughter’s company.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you? Lech!” Viserys leans back against the table. When next he speaks, his voice is heavy with distaste. “Begone from this city, Daemon. You have outstayed your welcome once again.”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

Incredulity. Daemon supposes it is fair. He’d never resisted exile before.

“No,” he repeats firmly. “Save for the business with Tyrell, I’ve done nothing wrong. You have no grounds to banish me.”

“No grounds? No grounds?” The king’s pitch is rising. “Attention! Flattery! Gifts! It is a game I know well! A game you’ve played with my first child, and now my second!”

“I am not after ruining her reputation, Your Grace,” Daemon insists. His brother huffs and spins away, pacing before him. “I would have her as my wife.”

Viserys pauses. “Are you in jest?” He looks almost as though he is torn between laughter and tears. “How do you think you’ll go about getting my throne from her? Do you plan on slaying Rhaenyra and her sons to get your crown?”

It is an abhorrent thought. Daemon cannot believe his brother would think so lowly of him. Briefly, he mourns the bond he once had with him, a bond that has frayed and corrupted under the weight of the Seven Kingdoms.

“It’s not about the Iron Throne, Viserys!” He alters his approach, beseeching his brother and urgently pressing his case. “I am the best match for her, and you know it. A Targaryen prince, a warrior, a dragonrider. There is none other who would compare, none other who could give her a just union such as I, least of all that idiot Tyrell—”

“What of Lord Jason Lannister? I would have her wed into Casterly Rock, far away from your grasping ambition!” Viserys’s gaze is considering, now. No longer is he beholden to the blind rage that had gripped him only moments before. “As for your lofty claim… it is Alicent’s wish that I announce the girl’s betrothal to Aegon, who is also a Targaryen prince and a dragonrider. Why should I not heed her instead?”

He's tempted to laugh, but doing so would only incite further ire. No matter the cost, Daemon will not concede to a green boy who seems more satisfied in acting like a child than behaving like a man.

“The boy is awful to her, Your Grace. She dislikes him. And the Lannister cunt? A simpleton. She’d be wasted on a fool like him, and you know it.”

His brother tips his head in acknowledgement and exhales frustratedly, leaning against the small council table. Much of the fight has left him.

“You are right… But how can I allow this?” Viserys whispers. He is bowed over the table, slumped and defeated. “How could you do this to her? To me?”

“What have I done?” Daemon draws closer. “I’ve spoken with her, taken walks with her, given her gifts. It is nothing more than that. I doubt she ever saw it as more than an uncle taking interest in his niece, until today. I swear this to you upon anything you wish to name.”

The king chuckles, though it carries no joy. “Such sincerity, Daemon. It is most unlike you.”

“I want her as my wife,” he says again, pleading. “Not for the sake of the throne, or to harm you, or any other reason save this—I want her.”

“I cannot…” is the response, muted and distressed. Viserys glances up at him. “You would destroy her.”

He is upset, resigned, but no longer alight with infuriation. Daemon leans against the table next to his brother.

“I would make her happy. Happier than any other. She could stay in the capital with her family. She could ride that great beast of hers whenever she likes. She could study to her heart’s content, at home where she belongs. Only I can give her all those things, and you know it. I am what she needs.”

Viserys does not reply—only stares at him with something foreign and inscrutable.

He makes his final bid. “Long have I been your staunchest supporter. Did I not wage a war in the Stepstones in defence of your kingdom? I have never asked for anything in return, except this: long ago, you promised that you’d annul my marriage so that I might find a bride of my own choosing. Years, I asked. Years, you denied me. And now… I am free.”

Daemon’s voice rings out in the stillness, the echo lending gravity to his words. He stares unflinchingly at his brother. “Give the girl to me to wife. You owe me this.”

The king is silent, unmoving. It is clear he has nothing left to say. And thus, Daemon has no reason to remain.

He bows and knocks on the door to be let out of the room. Passing through the walkway of the small council chambers as it opens, he leaves the king to his deliberations and hopes that his efforts will pay off.

“For all your degeneracy,” Daemon sneers, “you’re not one to be so loose with secrets.”

The air is chilled with the deep dark of night, the blackness so thick it is almost choking. He doesn’t enjoy the necessity of returning to the scene of his transgressions, but his wayward friend is easy to discover in the depths of the city.

Below him, Dargood pants and splutters, winded after being struck in the gut and dragged from his stool in a cheap, nameless drinking house. Daemon had lugged him rather briskly by the neck to the narrow alleyway beside the tavern, the amber luminosity pooling from the rickety window providing just enough light for him to make out the man’s face.

Dargood coughs. “Times change. A man’s got to do what he must to make coin in this city.”

“City Watch not paying you enough?” Daemon observes him as his eyes begin to droop shut, no doubt a combination of the drink and the knock to the skull as he’d been pulled out the door. He kicks him in the side for good measure, relishing in the yelp emitted when the leather makes contact with vulnerable flesh. “What a shame. Whoever could blame you for selling slanders to the king, then?”

His former ally scrambles to his knees, swaying unsteadily against the stone. “It’s not like that. And ‘slander’ only counts when it’s not true.”

He has a point, Daemon’s mind cannot help but acknowledge.

Dargood babbles on, heedless of the aggravation rising in the figure above him. “I didn’t mention anything outside what I heard and saw—”

“Oh, fuck off!” Daemon clouts him across the temple once more. He collides with the wall with a subdued thump, punctuated by further groaning. “Your father’s a lord. You don’t need the money.”

“Because it’d be so easy for me to beg that man for compassion.” Dargood spits the words out as though they taste foul on his tongue.

Ah, yes—he’d quite forgotten. A lesser son from a lesser house would hardly have recourse to cast himself upon the fires of mercy after amassing a reputation as dissolute as the man’s before him. Whoring, gambling, brawling, and there’d even been some more unsavoury rumours about his involvement in some scheme exploiting the poorest orphans of the city. He’d not cared to ask then, but perhaps he should have. He does not recognise the being before him.

Scum, he realises. He’s scum.

Daemon steps back, assessing the beaten creature that he had once called friend. He sighs. “Go home, Dargood,” he says finally. “Leave this city, or you’ll be made to.”

Before he can turn and walk away, the man lurches to his feet, grappling along the rock behind him. His bloodshot eyes zero in on his target. “So that’s it, then?” he asks, irate cadence marred by the slur in his speech. “You’ll just throw me aside when you feel like it? After all these years, prince.”

A brief flicker of displeasure stirs Daemon’s temper. “Yes—your prince. You sold out your prince for some fucking coin.”

Come to think of it… Wasn’t he making his little remarks before word reached my brother?

The memory has his hands locked tight around the man’s throat before his mind can become fully cognisant of his actions. “In fact”—his fingers squeeze harder—“you sold out your prince for status. Didn’t even need the money to spread your tales, did you?”

“Let—let go!” Dargood chokes, making no attempt to release himself from Daemon’s hold. He ought to be capable of such a feat. His training was thorough enough.

Pathetic. He’s not worth the bother.

Daemon loosens his grasp, surveying the vermin that had been his proudest investiture, a shining example of what the City Watch could achieve with discipline and decisiveness as its fundamental tenets. Now, he is no more than rabble, one among thousands of crooks, delinquents and filth polluting his ancestor’s crowning glory.

“Hm. You disappoint me.” With a final glower of disdain, he adds, “Expect a visit from your Lord Commander when day breaks. I think you’ll find your tenure with the Watch is at an end.”

With that, Daemon revolves on his heel and stalks away, far from Flea Bottom, from these havens of vice lining the streets, and from the poison that had fuelled his life in past years. He has no need for such a meaningless existence now. There is something better and brighter to look forward to.

“My prince! Daemon!”

He ignores Dargood’s supplications even as they grow louder, leaving him behind—where he belongs.

Read on AO3:

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atamascolily · 27 days

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Some more evidence for the theory that the Homura at the beginning and end of the Walpugis no Kaiten trailer is the same person: the black fringe on their shoulders.

Note that in both cases, this resembles black feathers, a subtle nod to the earlier Devil costume from Rebellion. This juxtaposition also brings out the parallels between the ribbon and collar on both outfits, too.

Also, I had not realized this before because the resolution in the trailer isn't great for these kinds of close-ups, but I recently came across an artist's rendition of these outfits that shows that the red swirls at the bottom of Homura's dress at the beginning of the trailer as tomoe.... which would be 100% appropriate and yet somehow never occurred to me before, mind completely blown.

Also, we've all seen the padlock and chain on Madoka's new magical girl outfit in the WnK 1.1 trailer, but I took another look at Homura's oufit, and...

...is that a key hanging from her neck? I don't know because the lighting and the resolution make it difficult to determine what I'm looking at, but... let's just say it would be thematically fitting, and I would not be surprised if it was.

Whatever it is, it's not her soul gem--that's very clearly visible on the back of her hand.

#puella magi madoka magica #walpurgis no kaiten #pmmm analysis #homura akemi

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lordmushroomkat · 2 years

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《The strong association of PCOS with cis womanhood, the defining of it as a disorder or syndrome, and its framing as a “women’s health issue” obscures the fact that PCOS is a natural hormonal variation, an endocrine difference that is illustrated through secondary sex characteristics.

During my initial search for resources and community, I also learned that PCOS, given its characterization as a hormonal variance, falls under the intersex umbrella. This intersex umbrella covers a wide range of “individuals born with a hormonal, chromosomal, gonadal or genital variation which is considered outside of the male and female norms,” and PCOS meets that definition.

This is not an attempt to sway every person who has PCOS to identify themselves as intersex—though it is an acknowledgment that we have the option and the right to do so if it rings true to us. Rather, this is to say that shifting my perspective on PCOS and viewing it through an intersex lens allowed me to better understand it as a natural human variation rather than an affliction causing my body to do the “wrong” thing.

“I believe that someone with PCOS has every right to use the term intersex for themselves if they want, but I also understand it if they don’t,” said writer and intersex advocate Amanda Saenz.

“As an advocate and an intersex person, I opt to use a definition of intersex that is open ended and expansive,” Saenz explains. “The experiences that a term like ‘intersex’ hopes to define include differences in hormonal production and hormone reception, and the phenotypic effects these differences have on the body. To me, this is inclusive of things like PCOS.”

Discussing PCOS in this way is often met with indignation and resistance. Our society has a hard time separating gender from sex. This has resulted in a widespread misunderstanding of intersex identity as equivalent to transgender identity. Many who vehemently resist the idea of PCOS being under the intersex umbrella do so because they categorically link “female” with “woman,” and therefore misinterpret any acceptance of intersex identity as a denial of womanhood. Moreover, the stigma around and marginalization of intersex communities prevents many people from feeling comfortable with embracing it.

“You can be intersex and cisgender, transgender, or nonbinary. The ‘opposite’ of intersex is endosex, not cisgender,” explained Eshe Kiama Zuri, founder of U.K. Mutual Aid. As a nonbinary intersex person, Zuri approaches these ideas with a clear understanding of how the bodies of intersex individuals as well as many people with PCOS interrupt binary thinking about both sex and gender.

“The resistance to PCOS falling under the intersex umbrella is due to a white supremacist society’s desperation to cling to binary genders, which we know [have been] used as a colonial tool of control,” they offer.

The same medical and surgical interventions that legislators seek to ban trans and nonbinary people from accessing—which would be gender-affirming, life-saving care for them—are often forced on intersex infants and children who are unable to consent. This is done in efforts to align intersex bodies with social expectations of female and male, man and woman; the same logic undergirds the societal and medical pressure to “feminize” the female-assigned bodies of PCOS patients.

PCOS is “shockingly common [and] the most frequently occurring hormone-related disorder.” However, according to Medical News Today, “up to 75% of [people] with PCOS do not receive a diagnosis for their condition.” If we were to understand and accept something like PCOS as intersex, considering how “shockingly common” it is, the dominant idea of binary sex, with intersex being thought of as nothing more than a fringe occurrence, would be shattered.

“PCOS is only one of many conditions that could fall under the intersex umbrella, and care for people with PCOS would be considerably better if it wasn’t for the forced gendering and resistance to providing actual support for people with PCOS, even if it challenges society’s ideas of gender,” says Zuri.

Combating myths built around the gender and sex binaries would create more space to understand PCOS traits as part of normal human variation, rather than inherent problems to be fixed, symptoms to be eradicated. As Zuri so beautifully put it, “When we start to accept that this is not a body behaving ‘wrong’ and it is just a body, we stop blaming and punishing people for how their bodies work and start challenging societal expectations.”》

I was fucking right!

#PCOS #Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome #polycystic ovary syndrome #Intersex #female-assigned intersex #afab intersex #polycystic ovarian syndrome

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paradisedixon · 2 years

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜰꜰɪᴄᴇ, ᴘᴛ 1

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: au where no outbreaks have occurred. chris, jill, leon, and you all work for the RPD, you working as the STARS secretary. you’ve had a crush on a certain blue eyed officer for nearly a year, and chris and jill are getting impatient.

warning(s): swearing, chris redfield being a little shit

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Something something Raccoon City something something Officer Valentine, the voice in your head proof reads on the bright screen for what seemed to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. Something pulses behind your forehead as you squeeze your eyes shut, leaning back in your squeaky office chair. Glancing at the little numbers at the bottom corner of the monitor, 10:16 am, you hold back an irritated sigh. Damn, not even close to lunch yet.

“Hey, did you get that status report filed? Irons said he hasn’t gotten the email.” A deep voice fills your ears, enhancing your forehead pulse. You clear your throat and raise your eyes to see Chris Redfield standing in front of your desk with a cup of coffee in hand. Mmm caffeine sounds so good right now, especially with that hazelnut creamer Barry brought in last week- oh shit he’s waiting for an answer-

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I did, give me a sec,” you click on the reports tab you know you left open to reveal a completely blank document, “aand I totally didn’t.” Chris’ lips quirked up in amusement, observing as your shoulders shrunk and you threw your head back like a teenager who just got grounded. His deep chuckle filled your ears as he sat on top of your desk in the space behind your monitor.

“I’m surprised. You’re usually on top of this stuff.” The ‘seriously?’ look you gave him earned you another bout of laughter, and you roll your eyes at his antics.

“I couldn’t sleep, my asshole neighbors won’t stop screwing each other’s brains out.” You rest your forehead on your hand, and sigh.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” Your gaze snapped up to the man, a look of disbelief on your face. Chris had a shit eating grin on his face, knowing your crush was an easy target.

You were walking to Chief Irons’ office to hand him the late reports your predecessor had failed to file, which prompted their firing. It was your second day as the secretary for the STARS unit and you liked the job so far, you got along well with the force. You also didn’t mind picking up the pieces of the previous secretary, which you were warned about before accepting the job.

You were walking across the main hall’s catwalk, glancing down at the front desk, attention taken by a commotion caused by a peeved civilian. Neglecting your surroundings, you found yourself smacking right into a wall. You stumbled backwards as a hand gripped your bicep to catch your fall. Wait walls don’t have hands-

“Woah! I am so sorry, ma’am, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” A sweet, boy-ish voice filled your ears, and your eyes flashed up to your victim. You observed the face in front of you; a strong jaw, straight nose, pretty blues, and sleek, blonde fringe. He was half a foot taller than yourself, and pretty muscular for his age, he couldn’t have been any younger than you. The scent of eucalyptus and peppermint filled your nostrils, and you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach and chest. You were definitely paying attention now.

“Uh- don’t worry about it. Totally my fault.” You nervously laughed, regaining your footing. The man let his gentle grip release from your arm and he flashed you a shy smile. Hot guy smiling at me hot guy smiling at me RED ALERT-

“I’m Leon Kennedy, i-it’s my first day.” He held out a hand for you to shake, and you grasped it in your own, noting how small your hand was compared to his. Imagine these babies cupping my a-

“It’s nice to put a face to the name strewn across the ceiling,” you shared a quick laugh as you referenced the small welcome party the police department held for him downstairs, which you had seen during your tour of the station the day before, “it’s actually my second day.”

“Good to know I’m not the only rookie around here.” One side of his mouth quirked up charmingly, and you felt your knees momentarily go weak. You giggled uncharacteristically, and something in your hand suddenly became heavy. You cleared your throat in realization that you were still holding his hand, so you pulled your hand back and tried to casually to smooth down your black pencil skirt, not seeing the flash of disappointment in Leon’s eyes.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Rookie.” The words left your lips in surprising confidence, and Leon stared at you with a small smile and a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“See you around.”

Later that day, you sat at your desk with a pitifully dreamy expression, unable to stop thinking about the rookie who was currently downstairs actually working, unlike yourself.

Those eyes, that face, that HAIR. God I could run my fingers through it all day long. He smelled so good, I thought I was going lightheaded- AND HIS HANDS! His grip was so firm, I wonder what else he could grip firmly-

“Hello?? You good?” You jumped at the face suddenly in front of yours, pushing out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Jill Valentine, the gorgeous yet intimidating STARS officer, was staring at you in amusement.

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry.” You spoke nervously. Jill raised a brow and chuckled, leaning one hand against your desk and placing the other on her hip.

“Thinking about your boyfriend?” You felt your ears go hot at the implication, and you stuttered as her smirk grew.

“What? N-No! I-I don’t.. have a boyfriend.” Your eyes diverted away from hers.

“So the kid downstairs isn’t your boyfriend? I saw you two earlier. I thought I was gonna have to bend over a toilet.” You guffawed, and Jill couldn’t help the barking laugh that bubbled from her chest.

“I’m totally joking! But you should go for it. Word around the water cooler is he’s single~” Jill sang, giving you a wink and leaving you to your embarrassment. Unfortunately for you, she was on her way to tell her own boyfriend the gossip about the new girl.

And now, almost a year later and staring in the face of Satan himself, you were kicking yourself for being so doe eyed back then.

“Who’s jealous?” Jill enters the office with a manila folder in hand, a blue STARS logo stamped to the back. Her short, brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, a few pieces framing her face in a charming way. Her blue eyes glistened in the fluorescents as they switched back and forth between you and her boyfriend, unsurprisingly excited about some potential workplace gossip.

You see the shit eating grin form on Chris’ face at the opportunity to tease you about Him, and you quickly take the opportunity to intercept.

“I am! Chris has coffee and I don’t. Come with me to the break room?” You put on a puppy dog face for dramatic effect, and Jill raises a suspicious brow. You lace your fingers together with a small pout, and she rolls her eyes playfully with a smirk.

“Sure, let me drop this off at my desk.” Jill turns and walks away, leaving you and Chris alone. His grin was now replaced with an impressed expression, slowly nodding his head.

“Not bad, but this isn’t over.” He gives you a wink and walks back to his desk, and you release a breath. Stupid Chris and his stupid words-

Standing from your chair, you meet Jill at the door of the STARS office and walk side by side to the break room.

“So.. what was that about?” Jill asked, and you groan. She always knew when you were full of shit, it came with the price of being best friends.

“What do you think it was about?” Jill laughed and shook her head.

“God, when are you gonna make a move on that kid? You guys have been pining after each other for, what, a year? I’m surprised it’s been this long.” You scoff and cross your arms as you round the corner of the hallway.

“I am not pining. And neither is he, because if he liked me back he would’ve done something about it by now.” Jill rolled her eyes and huffed.

“I swear you guys are blind. I knew from the second I had to witness that first flirt fest that you guys liked each other. It was love at first sight.” Jill let out a dramatic, whimsical sigh, and wrapped her toned arm around your shoulders. You shook your head, about to push her arm off when she unexpectedly pulled it back down to her side.

“Actually, I’m not feeling coffee. I have to pee. I think I hear my name- yes Chief?” Jill abruptly turned on her heel and you watched in surprise as she dipped back around the corner like a ninja. Why am I even friends with her?

You turn back around and enter the break room, stuttering on your next step when you spotted Leon standing at the counter in his uniform, stirring sugar into his coffee. He was the only one in room besides you, so you took the opportunity to observe him.

Leon had certainly kept up with training, his shoulders were a little bigger and legs a little thicker than when you first met. His hair was shorter though, the regulations the RPD had for their officers prohibiting him from growing it any longer than the tops of his ears, but it still shined in the fluorescent lighting.

“Leon?” You watched Leon’s shoulders jerk upwards and the spoon he previously held clanged to the counter unceremoniously. His head whipped around and spotted you, a small huff of air leaving his lungs in relief.

“God, you scared me.” He laughed, and you laughed with him.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you up here. You know you have a break room downstairs, right?” For some reason your teasing question caught him off guard, and a faint red tinged his cheeks.

“Uh y-yeah, but the um—coffee’s better up here.” He replied, a cheeky grin gracing his lips. You chuckled and moved next to him, grabbing a mug from the open cabinet, pouring yourself a cup.

“How’s your day going?” Leon spoke after a few seconds, and you smiled giddily down into your coffee at the mere fact that you were having a conversation with him. But then the conversation from seconds ago with Jill came back to mind and your smile dropped as you suddenly became nervous.

“Gine.” You look at Leon and he has an amused smile on his face, a perfect eyebrow raised. Why is he looking at me like that? Is there something on my face??! Wait—GINE??

“FINE! I meant fine. I was gonna say good but then I said fine for some reason,” you felt your face get hot as you babbled in your flustered state, “um. A-Anyways, how are you?”

“Gine.” His smile widened into a cheshire grin and you smacked his shoulder, eliciting a giggle from the officer in front of you.

“Shut up, Kennedy! I’m going back to my desk.” Your face got hotter as you grabbed your mug from the counter beside you.

“No, stay! Have a cup of coffee with me.” You looked back up at him and his cheshire grin was now a soft smile. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, and he turned towards one of the small tables in the corner of the room, motioning for you over his shoulder.

“Come on, it won’t hurt to take a little break.” Leon sat in one of the chairs and you felt yourself moving to the opposite chair before you could even make up your mind. Only Leon could have this effect on me.

“Only because I like doing charity.” You sighed, and he raised his brows in mock surprise.

“Excuse me, but weren’t you the one begging me to take an extra hour for lunch last week?” Leon crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards you, and you glanced at his muscles bulging in his shirt before you quickly rolled your eyes.

“That taco truck only comes once a month, y’know!” You pointed a finger at him in playful anger, and Leon chuckled, a smile gracing his luscious lips.

“You just don’t wanna admit you like spending time with me.” His smile suddenly turned into a playful pout, and Jill’s words suddenly filled your mind again. ‘I knew from the second I had to witness that first flirt fest that you guys liked each other.’

Jill is the most observant person I know. She couldn’t be wrong. Unless she was teasing me, but she knows how much I like him.. Does he like me? Nobody else jokes around with me like this. Except maybe Chris, but he’s an idiot and Leon definitely isn’t an idiot, and oh god he’s staring at me I forgot to talk he’s so hot-

“Hey, you okay? I was just kidding.” Leon had concern written all over his face and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about something.” You said, and Leon raised a suspicious brow.

“And what would that be?” That you like me which is impossible because you’re you and I’m me and Jill has to be wrong!

“Just something Jill said, her and Chris have been teasing me about this crush I have.” Something in Leon’s expression fell suddenly. Oh god why did I say that-

“Oh.. Well, what did she say?” It was silent for a beat, then you decided to test her theory out.

“She’s convinced that my crush likes me back, but I don’t know..” you bite your lip and you watch his eyes glance down at the action, but quickly glance back up at your eyes.

“Well,” Leon clears his throat, “I think any guy would be lucky to say that you have a crush on them.” You feel a blush fill your cheeks and you smile softly at him.

“Thanks, Leon.” You notice his cheeks get red as well, and he gives a shaky chuckle before looking at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, are you gonna tell me who it is or are you gonna leave me hangin’?” Leon asked, and you swear your heart stopped. Your mouth open and closed like a fish out of water, and Leon’s eyebrows furrowed.

“U-Uh… I um- well you see-” Before you could embarrass yourself any further, Chris barged into the break room with Jill following, looking up at her boyfriend with an expression of frustration.

“I just wanna see if I can catch them making ou-” Chris stops in the doorway at the sight of you and Leon sitting innocently across from one another, “oh,” his excited expression dropping quickly into disappointment. Jill’s hands were wrapped around his arm as she bumped into his side at his abrupt stop, frustrated eyes turning sympathetic as she shifted them from Chris to you.

“Excuse us.” Jill says, yanking on Chris’ arm and they were gone just as fast as they appeared. Thankfully that little stunt, which you were totally gonna kill Chris for, cured your nervousness.

“I swear he was dropped on his head or something.” You deadpanned, and Leon laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I tell myself the same thing every day.” You laughed together, and after the laughter died down you sat in a comfortable silence. You were tapping your coffee mug with your finger gently, staring into the tan liquid in thought.

“You don’t have to tell me who it is,” Leon spoke quietly, and your eyes shot up to his, only he wasn’t looking at you anymore—“if you like him I can bet anything he’s a good man, and I’m happy for you.” And in that moment, witnessing Leon’s failure to hide his sadness in his smile, you knew.

Leon Kennedy liked you.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

[A/N] hey guys! let me know if i should write a pt 2?? maybe?? potentially???? i really liked writing this one !!

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #chris redfield #jill valentine #chris x jill #jill valentine x you #chris redfield x you #valenfield #resident evil au #leon x reader #biohazard #re2make #re3make #re4make

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dontforgetukraine · 5 days

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#if a fucking propaganda movie is allowed in a film festival it just proves the west doesn't care

I wouldn't necessarily say that people in the West don't care. This is a failure occurring at multiple levels.

-First is the recognition that RT (and its current and former employees) is an arm of the Kremlin and is used for psyops. The Dept of Justice in America is finally showing some awareness about that, but this needs to happen at the government, business, and civilian level everywhere. -Second is how this film got sponsors and taxpayer money to be made in the first place. What oversight is currently there and how can it be made sure this doesn't happen again? -Third is what oversight is there at these cultural and art events? -Fourth is making sure people are educated and are able to recognize any form of propaganda.

Generally speaking, it's more likely people in the West, especially America, don't know how to recognize Russian propaganda.

I'll speak from an American perspective since that's where I am. We're uninformed due to it not being covered in our education system and media landscape. In addition, our leaders have been too slow to act on psyops. While Russian psyops flood the information space of news and social media, and some of us can recognize it, the propaganda about Ukraine we encounter is different from what's in "Russians at War" with some exceptions (ex. "Whataboutism"). A person that is only vaguely aware of the war and doesn't closely follow what's happening won't necessarily recognize the context and content. That's not an excuse. That's just reality. This is something I have to keep reminding myself, that the people around me don't know how to recognize it unless they are deliberately following the war and looking to educate themselves by listening to Ukrainians and other Eastern Europeans.

There needs to be more education on forms of propaganda and media literacy, and how to build up cognitive resilience. Propaganda doesn't always look like propaganda. I'll refer to a quote I posted from Dietmar Pichler. We typically think of propaganda coming from social media and talk shows, although now in this age its a lot of podcasts and YouTube videos. These are easy to overlook, including film at a cultural and arts festival.

I'll also refer to this quote from Pekka Kallioniemi.

Transparency should be our key weapon against individuals on the fringes who promote Kremlin propaganda… Highlighting and discussing these issues openly can help. Raising awareness about individuals spreading Kremlin propaganda, especially those in positions of power, is vital… Most countries, even those strongly opposed to the Kremlin, will have one or two such pro-Kremlin voices. It’s important to acknowledge that in a democracy, everyone has a voice, even if it’s frustrating to hear Kremlin propaganda. This underscores the importance of education. If people are equipped with cognitive resilience against such misinformation, it loses its impact on society as a whole. Building cognitive resilience through education is crucial. It’s a long-term investment, but it’s an essential competence also for our children’s future, well-being, and security.

So, please, don't automatically assume the West doesn't care. There's a long road in this fight for the information space and to educate that needs to happen on multiple fronts. It's going to take all the resources and people we can get against an enemy that is very good at what it does and has been doing it for a long time. I know it's frustrating and it sucks, but there are those of us here that care and I want to reassure people about that. Remember, the enemy wants you to despair.

#Ukraine #Russians at war #Russian propaganda

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 11 months

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Hi there! I hope you are doing well! I really love your writing and saw that your requests were open so could I humbly ask for a gn!Reader X Alfie? They get into some trouble but no one's aware of the fact that reader is actually the most dangerous person in the room.

"You don't know what kind of trouble you've gotten yourself into"

"And you have no idea of who you're fucking with."

I don't know if you want to go a supernatural route with this one or have reader as a very dangerous actor in the world of crime (I really loved The Boogeyman, by the way, the atmosphere you created around it was just *chefs kiss* lovely). But I leave the creative liberties to you. (Please feel no obligation to have to write this though!). Thanks so much ♥️!

Brave Little Protector (Alfie Solomons x Gn!Reader) ONESHOT (Request)

(UNEDITED)

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Gn!Reader Soft!Alfie

Word Count: 3025

Warnings: People getting their ass bEAT

Summary: (The request)

A/N: The second I saw this request, I had to write something for it! I love me a good badass!Reader, babes can take care of themself, Alfie's just an accessory B) I decided not to make a supernatural!au cause I'd end up going on a long tangent about it :,) but they a cutie either way. And thank you Anon for the praise for The Boogeyman, I really do appreciate it and everyone else who has commented on my works. Hope you enjoy :P

Alfie Solomons was a notorious figure in the underground world, his reputation as a formidable gang leader extending far and wide through the labyrinthine alleys of Camden Town. To those who understood the intricate workings of the criminal underbelly, the mere mention of his name sent shivers down their spines, a chilling reminder of the ruthless power he wielded.

People from all walks of life, whether they operated within the realms of legality or tiptoed on the fringes of society, couldn't deny the aura of dread that seemed to envelop Alfie's very presence. Those who dared to underestimate or dismiss the gravity of his influence were, in the eyes of many, nothing short of naive fools courting their own demise.

Rarely did audacious souls dare to challenge the formidable Alfie Solomons, but when such attempts did occur, they were recorded as legendary tales whispered in hushed tones throughout the criminal underworld. Those who dared to challenge him often found themselves on a path of inevitable destruction, their folly etching a grim tale into the annals of Camden Town's dark history.

The stories of those who managed to elude Alfie's grasp were often spun with threads of disbelief, their fear of retribution overshadowing any desire to share their harrowing experiences. In Camden Town, the mere notion of crossing paths with Alfie Solomons was enough to strike dread into the hearts of even the most fearless, rendering the very idea unthinkable.

As the icy tendrils of a winter's night clung to the desolate streets, Alfie Solomons, his ageing frame guided by a trusty walking cane, ambled with deliberate steps. The chill in the air seemed to conspire against him, provoking the familiar twinges of sciatica that sometimes plagued him. It was a reminder of his mortality amidst the stark, unforgiving season.

Walking in lockstep beside Alfie was a stark contrast – a much smaller figure, whose steps danced with a lightness and exuberance that seemed to defy the biting chill of the night. A radiant smile adorned their face, and their words tumbled from their lips with an innocence that shimmered like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness of Camden Town.

In the shadow of Alfie's formidable presence, this smaller, seemingly innocent companion stood as a testament to the paradoxes of life. Their very proximity to the notorious and rugged gang leader underscored the unexpected juxtaposition of vulnerability and strength, a reminder that even within the darkest of realms, elements of purity and brightness could still endure.

As Alfie ambled through the frigid night, his piercing gaze descended with an unmistakable warmth upon the young companion, Y/n who strode by his side. The affection that danced in his eyes was a striking contrast to his notorious reputation, a rare glimpse into the complex layers of the man behind the legend.

In the merciless world they navigated, such a connection could be perceived as a vulnerability, an exposed flank for those who knew how to exploit it. But beneath the calculated veneer of the streets, there existed a complex tapestry of loyalties and alliances that transcended the apparent incongruities. Like an arrow aimed straight for the heart, the bond between Alfie and his young companion was an enigma, a target that could confound the presumptions of those who attempted to unravel the mysteries of their relationship.

On the cobblestone pavement outside Alfie's well-worn distillery, Y/n gracefully led the way, a chivalrous gesture as they reached out to open the door. It was an act that spoke of a quiet camaraderie, a dance of respect and familiarity that had developed between them over time.

Their steps carried them across the threshold, neither of them paying heed to the group of shadowy figures huddled across the road. Unseen by Y/n and Alfie, this vigilant assembly of men had stationed themselves with a sense of anticipation, a veiled presence that held secrets and intentions yet to be revealed. The stage was set, the players unaware of the waiting audience, and the looming encounter hung in the air like an unspoken challenge, waiting to unfurl its fateful drama.

“That was such a good film, thank you for taking me Alfie.” Y/n effused with genuine delight, their appreciation evident as they leaned in to press a tender kiss to his cheek.

Alfie's response was a soft, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He gazed affectionately down at Y/n, his voice laced with warmth. “Well I gotta treat my sweetheart, yeah..I’d be a fucking fool not to.” he quipped, the endearment rolling off his tongue with an ease that bespoke a depth of affection that transcended the gritty world they inhabited.

Alfie's distillery had transformed into a sanctuary of affection, momentarily removed from the harsh realities of the world outside. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft, intimate glow as they basked in the afterglow of their cinematic escape.

Y/n's fingers traced a gentle path across Alfie's cheek, their affection evident in the lingering touch. "I appreciate it, Alfie," they replied, their voice a soothing melody that underscored the depth of their gratitude.

Alfie's laughter resonated in the room, a rich and melodious sound that could warm even the coldest of hearts. He cupped Y/n's cheek with a rough, calloused hand, drawing them closer. "My dear, you deserve nothing but the best," he declared with a fervor that bordered on reverence. "And I'm the fortunate one to have you by my side."

In the cocoon of their private moment, the outside world seemed a distant memory, and the connection they shared transcended the constraints of their gritty surroundings.

"Your leg okay? That was quite a walk from the pictures," Y/n inquired, their concern etched in the crease of their brow as they looked to Alfie.

Alfie, his resilience undiminished, offered a reassuring smile. "I'm good, love. Just need a bit of rest with my darling dearest," he replied, his endearment laced with a fondness that tugged at the corners of Y/n's lips, drawing a warm and melodic laugh from them. In this tender exchange, the intricate dance of their connection continued, an unspoken harmony that resonated deeply in their hearts.

"Sounds absolutely perfect," Y/n murmured, their words steeped in affection as they leaned in for another kiss, eager to savor the shared moment of intimacy.

However, their tender exchange was abruptly interrupted by a series of loud, jarring bangs emanating from outside the distillery. The sudden noise shattered the cocoon of their shared affection, its ominous presence casting a shadow over the serene sanctuary they had created. Instinctively, their gazes darted toward the source of the commotion, their bond and sense of unity instantly alert to the ominous intrusion.

With an explosive force, the door to the distillery was sent careening off its hinges, shattering into splinters as a torrent of men surged into the room. The deafening cacophony of their entry shattered the tranquility that had enveloped Alfie and Y/n.

Startled, both Alfie and Y/n instinctively turned their heads toward the source of the thunderous intrusion, their expressions a mix of surprise and apprehension. The unexpected arrival of this hostile horde signaled a sudden and unsettling shift in the quietude that had previously defined their evening, plunging them into a maelstrom of uncertainty and danger.

The leader of this unwelcome intrusion, a towering figure with a sneer etched across his face, stepped forward, his gaze fixed squarely on Alfie and Y/n. "Well, well, what 'ave we got 'ere?" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "The great Alfie Solomons and 'is little sweetheart, out for a romantic evening, are we?"

Alfie's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. Beside him, Y/n stood with a stoic resolve, a fire smoldering in their gaze.

Unfazed, the leader continued his verbal assault, "You thought you could just prance about like the bloody king of Camden Town, didn't ya? Well, it's time someone brought ya down a peg or two."

"Looks like the old man can't even walk. This game's gonna be a cakewalk," sneered one of the men, his derisive words igniting a chorus of laughter from his companions. The arrogant jeers danced in the air, further taunts poised at Alfie and Y/n.

A steely determination flickered in Alfie's gaze, his jaw set with unwavering resolve. "I may be injured, mate," he retorted, his voice a low, threatening growl. "But it ain't gonna change the fucking outcome."

The room crackled with palpable tension, the standoff between the encroaching aggressors and the defiant pair of Alfie and Y/n poised on the precipice of chaos.

With a predatory glint in his eyes, one of the men leered menacingly at Y/n, a malicious grin twisting his lips. His predatory words were laden with insinuation as he gestured toward Y/n with a disdainful sweep of his hand.

"Oh yeah, what if we have a bit of fun with this pretty little thing?" he taunted, his voice dripping with perverse suggestion.

Alfie's voice, low and filled with an unmistakable menace, sliced through the air like a blade. His eyes, once warm and affectionate, now bore an intensity that could wither the bravest of souls. He fixed a steely glare upon the man who had been leering at Y/n, his words laden with a potent threat that brooked no defiance.

"Don't even fucking look at them," Alfie growled, his tone a chilling warning that hung heavy in the room, daring the man to challenge his unwavering protection of Y/n.

Alfie's restraint was pushed to its limits, his knuckles white from the intensity of his grip on his walking cane. Y/n, though, stood resolute, their countenance unwavering, a storm of defiance and readiness brewing within their gaze. The room crackled with a dangerous electricity, each passing moment a taut string stretched to its breaking point, as the battle of wills and the impending confrontation hung heavy in the air.

"What you gonna do about it, old man?" The thug sneered, his lips curling into a menacing grin as he towered over Alfie.

Y/n cast a swift, purposeful glance back at Alfie, their head tilting ever so slightly. With a subtle shake of their head, they signaled for him to hold his ground, their unspoken message clear in its intent. It was a silent plea for Alfie to stay put and let them handle the imminent threat, a testament to the trust and unity that defined their partnership in such dire moments.

Alfie, though filled with a burning desire to defend, knew that in this tense situation, Y/n's strategic decision was both prudent and necessary. He reluctantly nodded in reluctant agreement, bracing himself for the unfolding storm, while Y/n took the forefront in a bid to protect and confront the encroaching danger.

Alfie then displayed an air of unaffected composure as he slowly pivoted away from the confrontational thug. With measured steps, he navigated toward his favourite armchair, its plush upholstery a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere in the room. Leaning on his cane for support, he took a seat in the armchair with a graceful ease that seemed to defy his years.

"Nothin’," Alfie replied with a quiet, determined tone, his eyes unwavering in their gaze. The group of men erupted in a chorus of mocking laughter, casting disdainful glances toward Alfie.

As the tension in the room thickened, one of the men took a step forward, encroaching into Y/n's personal space with an audacious display of aggression. His movements were purposeful, and his presence loomed like a dark shadow, a palpable threat that demanded attention in the charged atmosphere.

"Look at that, not even gonna defend you! You don't know what kind of trouble you've gotten yourself into," they taunted, their voices dripping with malice as they addressed Y/n.

Y/n's response was swift and intense, spoken with a fierce determination that echoed through the room. "And you have absolutely no idea who you're dealing with," they retorted, their eyes flashing with a mixture of defiance and readiness.

Before anyone in the room could react, Y/n sprang into action. Their fist cut through the air with a precision that caught everyone by surprise. The punch connected with the thug's face, producing a resounding crack as it landed. The perpetrator was sent tumbling backwards, crashing to the ground with an audible thud, his overconfidence shattered by the unexpected and powerful blow delivered by Y/n. The room fell silent, save for the groans of the fallen thug, and the tension hung heavy in the air as the consequences of underestimating Y/n became painfully clear.

Surprise rippled through the other men like an electric current as they hastily raised their firearms, their eyes widening in alarm. However, Y/n's reflexes were quicker than their adversaries could anticipate. In a swift, fluid motion, Y/n snatched up a nearby bottle of rum, the glint of desperation and determination in their eyes.

With precise accuracy, they hurled the bottle directly at the man's outstretched hand, the shattering impact resonating through the room. A sharp cry of pain filled the air as the bottle struck its target, causing the armed man to crumple in agony. The firearm slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor in a cacophony of clinks and thuds. Y/n's decisive action left a stunned silence in its wake, the other men left momentarily disoriented, their well-laid plans unravelling before their eyes.

With a lightning-quick movement, Y/n seized the fallen firearm, their fingers closing around its cool metal frame with practised ease. Without hesitation, they aimed the weapon, the room bathed in a tense, anticipatory silence.

A sharp, echoing report reverberated through the room as Y/n's first shot pierced the air, striking the first man's knees. A guttural cry of pain filled the space, his legs buckling beneath him as he collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony.

With calculated precision, Y/n turned their focus to the remaining men. One after another, they pulled the trigger, each gunshot punctuating the air with a resounding crack. Knees buckled and cries of pain rang out as each man's mobility was abruptly compromised. The room descended into chaos, as the once-vainglorious group of thugs now found themselves on the receiving end of their own malevolence, their domination overturned by Y/n's relentless resolve.

As the room filled with the cacophony of agonized moans, Y/n's determination remained unwavering. They stepped forward with deliberate purpose, ensuring that none of the men would pose any further threat. Kicking the firearms scattered around the fallen assailants, Y/n sent the weapons skittering across the floor, the metallic clatter serving as a stark reminder of the once-potent danger they represented.

Each gun was systematically nudged beyond the men's reach, ensuring that there would be no opportunity for them to regain their footing and make any attempts at retaliation. The room, once charged with hostility, was now a scene of retribution and defence, Y/n's actions a resolute testament to their commitment to protecting both themselves and Alfie from further harm.

“We’re done here, yeah?” Y/n asked, their voice tinged with a sense of authority and finality.

The men on the ground were consumed by the overwhelming pain coursing through their battered bodies, rendering them incapable of providing any coherent response. With an air of purpose, Y/n lowered their firearm to the floor, a symbolic gesture of de-escalation.

Y/n then proceeded to seize a couple of the men by their collars, their determination undeterred. With Herculean effort, they dragged the incapacitated assailants out of the dimly lit distillery one by one, the gritty ground marking their path. It took several strenuous trips to remove all the wounded men, a silent testament to Y/n's unwavering resolve to ensure their incapacitation.

Amidst the turmoil and the rearranging of the scene, Alfie remained seated in his cherished armchair, a serene smile gracing his lips as he observed the events unfolding before him. In his aged eyes, a sense of satisfaction gleamed, knowing that the indomitable spirit of Y/n had safeguarded both their well-being and his own.

Locking up the distillery door with a resounding click, Y/n's gaze returned to Alfie. The enigmatic smile that graced their features bore a subtle, almost innocent quality, belying the fierce determination that had manifested moments before. In that fleeting moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them – a partnership solidified through shared challenges, and a newfound respect forged in the crucible of adversity.

Alfie's hearty laughter filled the room, a warm and reassuring sound that resonated through the distillery's dimly lit space. His eyes sparkled with an appreciative twinkle.

"Come here, my brave little protector," Alfie beckoned, his voice tinged with both affection and admiration.

Y/n, ever attentive, gracefully moved closer to Alfie. With a practised gentleness, Alfie reached out and took their hand, fingers intertwining in a wordless connection. Slowly, he drew Y/n toward him until their lips met in a passionate and tender kiss. In that shared moment, amidst the aftermath of turmoil and conflict, their bond grew stronger, solidified by an unspoken understanding of the challenges they faced together.

"I'd never let anyone hurt us, Alfie," Y/n reassured, settling on the arm of the chair, their gaze unwavering as they looked down at Alfie, a protective resolve burning in their eyes. The sincerity in their voice was palpable, a fierce promise to shield and safeguard.

A small, appreciative smile played on Alfie's lips as he met Y/n's gaze. "I know you won't, darling," he affirmed, the tenderness in his voice underscoring the trust he had in their bond. "But if you’re ever in trouble, always come find me, yeah?"

Y/n leaned down, their lips meeting Alfie's in a tender kiss, sealing the pact with a shared moment of intimacy. "Always, Alfie," they whispered a vow in the midst of uncertainty, a testament to the strength of their connection, even in the face of impending danger.

- A/N: I've probably never written something fast before, but I was just so invested that I cracked it out immediately 💀 But I hope you enjoyed it, Thank you Anon for requesting this, I enjoyed writing it and look forward to writing more. :)

#fanfic #alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders alfie solomons #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine

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