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#i love how i was planning on writing a scene or two and now it's developing into a full fic ㅜㅜ
commander-rahrah · 1 day
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I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!
I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.
He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭
What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞
He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭
He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him 😤
He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹
He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!
I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳
You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍
Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.
They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.
After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.
What do you think of it? I'm curious :3
Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️
I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.
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“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction. 
“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”
Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”
The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?
His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?
You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”
His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.
“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.
His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”
And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.
He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.
Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.
Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.
“Hi.”
The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.
“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?
“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”
He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”
He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”
You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”
Well, there was no denying the inevitable.
He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.
The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.
His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.
“I understand.”
“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.
“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”
Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”
“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”
Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”
You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”
“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.
You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”
“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”
“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”
Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”
“Do you trust me?”
The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”
“I trust you,” You said softly.
“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“
You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”
He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”
Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it match your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”
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euaphoric · 18 hours
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HIGHWAY TO HELL ♱ 𓏲ּ [J.J.K.] preview
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♱ starring… jeon jungkook x f!reader | rockstar!jk x tattoo artist!reader | 1980’s au | established relationship | ft. all other bts members as bandmates and yoongi is the manager !
♱ genre/warnings... pwp, a mixture of angst and fluff, smut, takes place in the grungy, rugged underground music scene of NYC in the 80’s, o/c used to be a groupie but is now jk’s gf, this fic is going to be very chaotic… there’s a lot of warnings for this including: dark humor (nothing offensive), toxic relationship, the ‘i literally need you to survive or else i’ll die’ trope, o/c is jk’s muse, he fr worships his girl as if she’s some otherworldly deity, attempting to delve into the complexities of mental instability ?? (they’re both mentally fucked in the head tbh), autophobia/monatophobia, DARK/HEAVY THEMES!, small mentions of stalking, mentions of mental health struggles, self injury, heavy alcohol & substance abuse, jk has a belly piercing (yes, that is a warning in itself), jk plays bass and is main vocals of the band, he argues w/ his bandmates a lot, switch!jk but he leans more towards dom, sex while under the influence, size kink, y’all are both super nasty and kinky like omg this is gonna be insaneeesfds, also heavy exhibitionism: they literally have sex in front of ppl multiple times (oops). i will be sure to include the rest once it’s fully finished !
♱ synopsis... when moving to the big city, you had only three things in mind: start life anew— a fresh, clean slate that allows you to bloom into whomever you wish to be, open your own tattoo parlor, and to meet and fuck as many rockstars as you possibly can. in fact, all was going according to plan thus far, however, the minute you crossed paths with him is when life takes a pivotal shift for the better and possibly, worse. you’ve become inseparable since day one, building an intense co-dependency that not even the devil himself can seem to unravel. a story of the submerging tension between two lonely, lost souls navigating youth through glitz, glamour, sleepless nights, and reckless hotel parties every weekend. it’s as if everyone else exists to come and go; besides the unconventional love that you cultivate together. OR,, just lots of sex, drugs, & punk rock.
♱ run time... will be over 10k+ words
♱ soundtrack... seek & destroy metallica, you shook me all night long ac/dc, purgatory iron maiden, she the misfits
i had this idea for sooo long omg, it’s slightly different than how i originally imagined it here, but i’m finally doing it so yay for meee !! i’ve never tried a concept like this before saur i’m def going to research a lot for this since i wasn’t born in the 80’s lol. i honestly have no idea how long this will be but me thinks it’ll be around 10-12k words ??? ( it’s going to be the longest thing i ever made .. T^T ) but my goal this year has been to start writing longer fics so i’m excited ! if anyone wants to be tagged once it’s uploaded just lmk <3
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fl0ptrait · 15 hours
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Dylan Langley for @plumbewb
"Just Julia" Bachelorette Challenge
I present you Dylan.
Dylan is a writer of smut, or erotica novels if you feel fancy. He was born in Brindleton Bay but moved to SanMy when he turned 20 and after publishing his first book. He struggled for the first couple of years working multiple jobs to be able to pay the bills until he made his breakthrough with his book "Bound by Blood". The major difference between his first and second book is that on the second book cover there was a picture of him in the author bio. Since then he uses his good looks to achieve his goals. "It is what it is guys. We are all guilty"
He knows Julia through her youtube channel, Dylan always liked wearing make up but never took the time to actually learn how to do it properly so when he looked for some tutorials he stumbled upon Julia's youtube channel. He now puts on her videos even when he doesn't need any make up tip as he finds her voice soothing. After hearing of her coming out as pansexual and her participation in her own bachelorette challenge he took the opportunity to apply straight away. He considers Julia to be an inspiration in her work and ambition and drive for being indipendent.
Dylan is an only son of a rather normal family, parents are still married and in love, they own two dogs 4 cats and 2 mini goats. He would love to have pets but he wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to them and told himself he would feel guilty to neglect them and have someone take care of them instead of him. He graduated in english literature and philosophy ( I know look at him, he has the aura of a philosopher) and even though he didn't plan on writing erotica books for women that's how he ended up and he quite likes it. Now that he has the means he has bought a bigger house for his family and is planning on sending his parent on a romantic vacation to make up for the fact that they never really had a honeymoon.
If you want to know how he ended up writing erotica novels well it was meant as a joke but his friends like so much the small one shot he wrote that they asked for an entire novel which then became his first book.
He is confident in his looks and his skills and isn't much bothered by people's opinion unless it's from someone he respects and love. He has a few close friends with whom he likes to party at clubs or go to concert. He likes food and he has been taking cooking classes for about a year now "The faster way to anyone's heart is through food" he says and I agree completely. He had a couple of serious relationships one of which left him heart broken but from which he took inspiration for his second book. In between relationship he has a lot of casual sex where he tries a lot of new things, he says first hand experience is good for writing scenes that are more realistic. Sure, we believe you when you say that is why.
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morethansky · 2 days
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***TBB SPOILERS**
Realized I never wrote up my thoughts on "Into the Breach," which was the first episode I've liked since "Extraction"!!! Probably because all I could think about was Echo for 72 hours afterward.
This episode gave me such Rebels vibes, and that's truly the highest compliment I could pay any Star Wars media. I present my case:
There's an objective laid out from the start that is a small but crucial piece of the larger plot. The beginning of the episode presents this problem, and by the end of the episode, that specific problem solved.
Everyone is competent, and every character gets to do something vital to the mission. Whether it's a small thing doesn't matter; it's the fact that if that character wasn't there to do that small thing, the mission might be screwed that matters.
The action is meaningful—it conveys something about the characters while also driving the plot forward—and there's suspense that ratchets up the tension. And then to diffuse it, there's humor, and each joke is funny, but it's not overdone.
Infiltration episodes are such a Star Wars staple, and it's a real shame that TBB hasn't had more of them. They tried to make up for it by putting THREE infiltrations into this episode lmao. The fact that they show one long-term infiltration, one short-term infiltration, and one super short-term infiltration is very clever and makes the writing feel cohesive and dynamic, something this show hasn't always been able to achieve.
Also important, they do both a space/flight mission and a ground mission (two of each, technically), which is something that always helps make an episode feel like it's set in the GFFA and not just, you know *cough* Space!Louisiana. Or Tatooine scene #700.
There's also some nice storytelling going on with the environment—they go from being outside on the cloud city (free) to inside a space station (trapped with enemies), and for Omega, inside a cell (in which she actually enters another cell, visually—her bunk). The wide outdoor shots make the close, indoor shots feel much more claustrophobic, which is exactly the atmosphere these particular indoor settings should be giving off.
Other thoughts and meta:
Daytime Tantiss is a good sign! Forecast: Not death?
Prison Break Omega is just such a good vibe, and this would just be so fucking cool...except we've literally already seen her escape once this season??? And it was already really well done??? This is like the flip side of my complaint that Omega was too helpless in the first season, and it was annoying how she constantly needed to be rescued. Now she's too competent and is always escaping lol. It just really, really cheapens the dramatic effect either escape could've had.
Needless to say, the Batch's driving purpose once again being that they're struggling to rescue Omega is just. I'm tired. If there are going to be two major captures and two major escapes this season, at least one of them needs to be a narrative flip!!! The Batch rescuing her at the front end of the season and Omega escaping herself at the end, or vice versa, would've made it much less repetitive (and stopped cutting the Batch off at the knees in order to show Omega's competency). Omega even gets captured in the same fucking way—she gives herself up in "Plan 99" and "Point of No Return"! Ughhhhh
Okay I swear I actually like this episode lmao, I just. Editor instincts.
Thinking about how Omega left Lula on Pabu and has essentially left Straw!Lula to Eva, and how it shows that she's shed her need for comfort and is now ready to provide that comfort to other children, which is very lovely. But I'm also worried about Lula and Tech's goggles being on Pabu, because there are only three thematic options here: Everyone returns to them (sanctuary), everyone leaves them behind (leaving the past behind), or Omega returns to leave more items, say a bandana or a Firepuncher (memorial). The link between Lula and the goggles is actually not that natural (unless you're a Techwrecker shipper like me :D), so I've been pondering this choice a lot.
The symbolism of everything inside Tantiss being in the shape of the Empire cog and every character within its walls being a cog of the Empire is so heavy handed...and I am here for every moment of it!!!
Truly did not expect Rampart to stick around for so long. He's going to be a main character in the finale at this point?? I like how he's like a Kallus foil here—despite being scapegoated by the literal emperor he's still loyal to the regime and takes such pride in it. A very Jennifer Corbett & Brad Rau–esque character.
The way that when Echo came down the ramp I literally said, "Oh, thank god."
Hunter and Echo doing the clone hand clasp (and not wrist clasp, you'll note) isn't as emotional given that we already know how strong their bond is at this point, but it's still nice to see this visual callback to the Batch respecting Cody so much despite him being a reg that Hunter would use this hand clasp to greet him. It's a great shorthand (ha) for Hunter's feelings, since he is particularly suspicious of outsiders, and Echo is now fully "one of his."
I really love the mirror of the scene when the Batch is in the cell on Kamino and they escape by breaking into the wall—Omega effectively does the same thing here. These are the satisfying kinds of repetition, rather than entire arcs!
Every time I think about the Tech-is-the-mustachioed-doctor theory I giggle. It would just be. So anticlimactic?? But absolutely hilarious.
The costume change is so unnecessary, buuut I'll be first in line to buy the variant figures! Also it's nice to see some canon clone armor painting after writing and reading so many fics about it!!
I really like Hunter sensing Rampart plotting and how it brings his powers even closer to Jedi precognition.
Not too much Crosshunt in this ep, but I like how in both shuttle scenes, Crosshair stands in a position that blocks Rampart from getting to Hunter in the cockpit (while Wrecker blocks Rampart from getting to the exit).
Not particularly significant, but I like the visual detail of Hunter, Echo, and Crosshair bracketing Rampart in a triangle and it looking like they're his bodyguards but them actually forming that position because he's their prisoner.
The way I screamed when Rampart tries to get Echo to say "sir" and he just says, "I don't think so." Echo did not go through everything he's gone through up to this point to take anyone's shit!!! And the way Rampart just takes it and looks down all ashamed is peak comedy to me. Even he sensed that he was treading on dangerous ground there. (Just for a second think about Fives on Umbara and how he refused to take Krell's shit from the very start...)
The commandos being on this space station (that's orbiting Coruscant??) makes me very sad because it kind of foreshadows a dark ending for the Tantiss arc by showing that the commandos are spread all over the galaxy. So even if they rescue all the commandos from Tantiss, it still wouldn't save all the others. In which case, writing wise, it feels way more unlikely for them to save the commandos on Tantiss at all.
Wrecker tapping his foot while scrolling through the comments on his AO3 account is very cute. Also in the last episode the mining foreman was on his datapad like a phone and I thought it was supposed to convey that he was lazy lol but maybe this sort of thing is just going to show up in SW a lot more now haha
The lieutenant demanding to know where the captain is is kind of silly because wasn't he the one to let him go inside?? Why would he be back at his ship? But I love me the Rebels-esque gag of knocking him out on the ship.
Everyone is screaming about Crosshair having faith in Echo getting them through, but I would also like to contribute the fact that Crosshair says, "You can't go alone." A very poetic line of dialogue because being alone in the Techno Union is what the Batch saved Echo from being, and it's what Crosshair chose to be for two and a half seasons of this show. Not wanting to be alone again was also what made him turn against the Empire! We also see this anxiety in the previous episode, where he (in that very ridiculous reveal) admits he doesn't want to go back to Tantiss (and be alone again).
ECHOOOOOO!!!! About fucking time they gave him another action feature!!! I rewatch that opening sequence in "Tipping Point" constantly. And not only that, it's a very character-driven action feature for once!!! We see him showcase what it means to be an ARC trooper and also what it means that he's "part-droid." A test I like to consider when I gauge the quality of action-ensemble media is, Could any other character have done that? In this case, the text is very loudly telling us absolutely not! Also the way he exudes confidence about it ("But I can") is also just. Super hot, 10/10
Tbh the Echo feature felt so out of place for this show that at this point I was suddenly filled with terror that he was about to die. Thank god he did not, but he's still separated from the others by the end, so it's not out of the question for something terrible to happen in hyperspace, and I do not want it!!! But altogether that was a badass third act and a very good episode!
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steelycunt · 1 year
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an um. snippet. from me. for the first time since. july :-)
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nose-coffee · 10 months
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lessons on never meeting your heroes, for the title meme? alt; to testify against yourself (from siken's war of the foxes, the full line being "To testify against yourself is an interesting thing, a sacrifice. Some people do it. Some people find money in the street, but you can't rely on it.") if the first one is nothing to you asghdss
first one is everything to me tbh (mostly bc my brain is Too Tired to come up w anything angsty enough to fit a richard siken quote rn lmao)
lessons on never meeting your heroes Set several years pre-canon – at Dulcie’s recommendation that he let loose and read some trashy novel she just finished (the Necromancer’s Marriage Season), Pal finds himself so thoroughly put out with it and it’s sincere lack of substance, that he writes a letter to the author, sparking a long-term personal correspondence between them. Told in epistolary, with short asides told from Camilla or Dulcie’s perspectives throughout the years. The letters chronicle Pal and the author’s deeply polite arguments over plot and substance of trashy romance novels; carefully worded reviews and critiques of every subsequent novel the author publishes after the Necromancer’s Marriage Season; and ends up with them so accidentally ingratiated that Pal ends up as the author’s editor.
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Charmed, I'm Sure
Chapter 3 First Chapter|Previous Chapter|Next Chapter|
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Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.
Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC
Genre: Drama, angst
Warnings: None in this chapter, suggestive content and alcohol use in previous chapters.
***
The light to Lucifer’s study was still on when Solomon dragged Asmodeus back to the House of Lamentation. They would have to use stealth magic to get inside, not that Lucifer wouldn't figure it out eventually, but it would buy them some time to get Asmo to his room before he noticed.
Solomon quickly disarmed the locking spell Lucifer had put on the door and he and Asmo went inside and up the stairs. Classical music could be heard faintly beyond the door of Lucifer’s study as they tiptoed past, human world classical music, to be precise. But Solomon could also hear light snoring which meant Lucifer had probably fallen asleep working. That was good. He didn't think Asmo could protect him from Lucifer’s fury in this state, and he’d never needed to fight a demon that strong using only his magic. He had no desire to test it out now.
Asmo had been quiet during the walk home, and that was very unlike him. You could hardly get the demon to stop talking most of the time. Solomon had given him his space. Asmo’s eyes were already red and puffy from crying when they got to his room, but he had sobered up a little. Almost automatically, he walked over to his massive closet and slipped out of his clothes and into a purple satin robe. He sat on the bed and stared at himself, unmoving, in the full length mirror that covered an entire wall of his bedroom.
“When I was in the Celestial Realm everyone loved me, I didn't even have to try. And I loved everyone. Lucifer may have been favored by Father but I was favored almost everyone else.” Asmo said, finally breaking his silence. “And then after we fell and my demon powers developed, people didn't just love me, they worshiped me.”
Solomon tossed Asmo a bottle of micellar water and a cloth to remove the smeared eyeliner and glitter that was streaked across his face, which again, he managed to make look good. Then Solomon went to the mini cosmetics fridge Asmo kept under his vanity and removed a chilled jade roller, night cream, and a sheet mask. He knew Asmo would never forgive himself if he didn't do the bare minimum of his multi-step skincare routine before going to bed.
“Thank you,” Asmo said quietly as Solomon handed him the items.
“You’re welcome,” Solomon sat down in the pink cushioned desk chair that was rarely used for doing schoolwork.
Asmo continued his train of thought from before, “I’ve lived under Lucifer’s shadow my whole life but if everyone else adored me, it was ok.”
Solomon didn't know what to say so he stayed silent. He thought about the exchange student. He would need to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance Asmo had panicked and missed some sort of enchanted object on the exchange student’s person. Even if they couldn't do magic themself, there was still the possibility they could be in possession of an item that blocked a demon’s powers. A normal human alone would not be able to resist the influence of one of the rulers of the Devildom. It just wasn't possible.
“Have I ever told you what it feels like to charm someone?” Asmo asked.
Solomon shook his head.
“It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world!” A smile lit his tear stained face. “I look at a person and it’s like there's a string around their heart. I can reach out and pull that string towards me; I can feel their desires, jealousies, the things they hold dear. If I want I can mold those things to look like me.”
The concept reminded Solomon a little of the ‘red string of fate’, something he’d been wanting to research for some time now. From what he knew of the red string, though, it couldn't be manipulated in the way Asmo described his charm.
“Mc…” Asmo said. “They just stared at me. It was like I was looking at one of my brothers. You know, I can’t charm them," That wasn’t exactly true. His powers could, on occasion, work on his brothers but it was hardly worth the effort now. He had cute little brother privileges. "But I know they love me because they tell me. With MC, I felt nothing.” The memory was unsettling, Asmo shivered a little.
“It shouldn't matter, right?” he said. “I’m being foolish. I can have anyone I want, so why am I hung up on this one person?” Tears started to fall again. Asmo curled up on the bed and cocooned himself in the blankets.
“I suppose it’s hard to let go of something you’ve always had,” said Solomon.
The pile of blankets twitched as Asmo nodded.
When he didn't speak again, Solomon took that as his cue to leave. It was late anyway, and tomorrow was officially the first day of the exchange program and a new term at RAD. He would need a good night’s sleep to be in peak performance as the famous Witty Sorcerer. He made a mental note to have Barbatos send over some hangover relief tea to Asmo’s room in the morning.
With one final look back, Solomon spread his arms wide and cast a comfort spell on Asmo’s room. The scent of lavender, ocean waves crashing, gentle piano music, drinking hot chocolate by a crackling fire; all things that were imbued in the spell. The room felt just a little bit lighter when he left, although he thought he could still hear Asmo’s soft sniffling as he closed the door behind him.
Solomon used the back stairs to avoid passing Lucifer’s study again. The kitchen light was on when he got to the first floor and someone was rustling around inside. He would bet all the years he had left that it was Beelzebub. It wouldn't necessarily be dangerous to be caught by Beel, he was a gentle giant for the most part, and had an even temper as long as he was well-fed. It would definitely be awkward to be caught by him, though.
As he crept through the hallway, sticking to the shadows, a certain door caught his eye.
The guest room.
That would be where the exchange student was staying. Solomon stood silently outside the guest room door and listened. In all likelihood they would be asleep and Solomon would have to continue his investigation in the morning at RAD.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard it. Crying. Heaving sobs that someone was trying, and failing, to keep quiet.
Solomon’s brow furrowed. He was given a choice to join the exchange program; judging by the crying coming from the room, apparently you had not. You sounded so pitiful.
Solomon stood there and listened a little while longer. At least two people in the House of Lamentation would be crying themselves to sleep tonight. Two people who had been ripped away from the things they were accustomed to. He pressed his hand to the door and repeated the same spell he’d used in Asmo’s room. It was the least Solomon could do to offer them what little comfort he could give.
***
Cross-posted on AO3
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appreciatingtokrev · 1 year
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i live under a curse and it makes me dislike all the tokrev ocs i create on purpose but if i do it on accident they immediately climb to the blorbo rank
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ghosts-cyphera · 6 months
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love love love prnstar!ghost but the slightly more deranged part of me wants to know what he’d be like if reader ever safeworded during a scene (for whatever reason!) i feel like he’d be so doting after :(
18+; mdni / hurt/comfort / pornstar!ghost x fem!reader; masterlist here
a/n: aw, darling. nothing deranged about it. this is such an important topic, and I'm planning on writing a much more in-depth fic about a very similar situation soon. this one is just a little something soft and gentle to explore how deep that (mainly) unspoken sense of safety and security between the two truly reaches. I hope you'll enjoy it. ♡
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it had all happened in a moment so fast, so fleeting.
one moment, your back had arched in pleasure, and the second you had pulled back from him. the word had rushed past your lips so hurried and so broken that your voice had cracked with your repetition.
"red, red, red," you had managed, your eyes blinking shut. 
your body closing off. 
"red."
and ghost had dropped everything.
"price, we need a break," he had heard the words leaving his lips, followed by the immediate voice of the director calling for a cut. that's all it had taken for all ghost's senses to sharpen. for every fiber of his body to focus on you.
you, who now sat on the bed with your arms wrapped around your body, your eyes squeezed shut. despite your visible attempts at calming down, he could see the tremor of your hands and hear the desperation in your breathing.
too fast, too rapid.
"darlin'."
from the word, the humming in your ears came to a halt. your heart kept beating out of your chest, aching from your desperation, yet as you raised your gaze to meet his frame...
your body moved to him, instinctive, your eyes welling with tears as he hugged you to his chest, safe. warm and secure as your shoulders shook and your hands trembled.
"I know, sweetheart," his lips ghosted your temple with his words. "I know. I got you. you're safe, darlin'. you’re safe, alright?"
alright.
despite you having reached your breaking point that day, that sense of safety between the two of you was genuine. 
all that warmth he felt for you was still evident in the way he caught you. 
his lips, planting kiss after kiss onto your hair, were still familiar. his voice, as it whispered gentle words to you, was still something secure. his hands, as they moved to wipe away your tears, were still safe and gentle.
and at that moment, in the safety of his arms, you knew he was someone you could always rely on. 
he was still your ghost. 
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pechoraflow · 4 months
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A Writer's Guide to Character Development
I don’t know about you guys, but I can only answer “what’s your character’s favorite flavor of ice cream” so many times before I realize those lists are not going to help me actually write the character.
So, instead, I like to drabble practice. Answer these ten key questions about your character (answer in character). Then, after you know them a little better, write ten scenes (NOT part of your planned story) with the ten prompts below. Set it in your world, but it can be whenever you want—pre-story, or post-story, or mid-story. You could even write two scenes for one prompt, contrasting where your character starts the story and where they end up, or write one in first person and then write it again in third.
Just has to cover events that are NOT plot points. The point of the exercise is to come up with scenes you can toss out as soon as you finish them. You might end up using some of the lines or scenes you come up with, but for now you’re just playing around. 
QUESTIONS
What does your character tell everyone is their greatest fear? What is it actually? Is it the same? Why or why not?
What is their greatest strength and greatest weakness? 
Name the most important people to this character. All of them. Family and close friends and lovers.
Does your character have enemies? Who and why?
What is your character’s favorite holiday and why? 
How does your character like to present himself/herself? How do they dress? How do they act? Are they friendly or standoffish? Do they like to make a scene, or are they a wallflower?
What is their love language? How do they express it, and how do they best receive it?
What is their highest virtue? What is something that peers would praise about your character? What do they value most in other people?
Are they messy or neat? Why or why not?
If your character could change one thing about their life, what would it be and why? And, conversely, if they could only save one thing from their life, what would it be?
PROMPTS
Your character has had a bad day. What happened?
Your character’s loved one is sick. What do they do?
It’s your character’s birthday.
Someone is hiding something from your character. How do they uncover what it is?
Your character has just heard the news. A character they loved is dead. Describe the rest of their day.
Your character is on their own for dinner.
Your character has the day to himself/herself. No responsibilities, nothing. What do they do?
In the middle of the night, your character hears a noise in the house.
Your character knows they will die at midnight. What is their last day like?
Your character suddenly develops amnesia. Their loved ones try to jog your character’s memories by taking them to familiar locations and reminiscing. 
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vonne-inc · 11 months
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product: yandere husband.
gender neutral reader. mainly fluff. yandere-ish (a little).
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yandere husband, who met you a few months after your high-school graduation. being a barista at his parent's cafe and seeing you walk up to the counter. oh, how he immediately fell in love with you. he found you beautiful— no, more than beautiful; glorious, angelic, heavenly.. there were too many words to describe you. he knew you were perfect.
yandere husband, leaving his number on the receipt taped to your to-go drink. he watched as you glanced at the writing while walking out the door. your eyes met his, smiling as you held your phone in your palm. his heart raced with nervousness. his phone buzzed as it showed a text message from an unknown number. when he lifted his head, you were gone. he was happy, elated even.
yandere husband, at work or at home texted you any moment he could. he really liked you— you were just so fun and interesting! he couldn't get enough of you, and you could get enough of him.
yandere husband, after a few dates and flirty conversations, you started dating him. his obsessive and possessiveness didn't start until your first i love you's. only then did he realize that he needed your touch, your voice, your presence, all of you. he needed you, only you.
yandere husband, after two years of dating him, fully comfortable and accustomed to each other, he's asking if you'd ever want to get married. after months of talking and questions, hinting at the idea, he finally proposes. on one knee as you're in bed while the early sun shines through the curtains. it was a beautiful scene for your eyes.
yandere husband, who is smiling from ear to ear once you say yes, pulling you into a long, loving kiss. now he can plan his next moves to have you all for himself, forever.
yandere husband, smiling brightly as he watches you walking down the aisle. your attire fitting you perfectly, it was divine on you. he could feel himself falling in love with you all over again.
yandere husband, who said his vows, holding your hands as he repeated the rehearsed words he spent months on writing. there were too many things for him to say, words couldn't describe how you made him feel. the love you brought him were beyond description— you were ineffable, intangible, unutterable. he'd do anything for you; go through any suffering or pain for you. he'd even kill for you, if it came down to it. once he'd end his speech, kissing your knuckles, he'd listen to your vows with a loving smile.
yandere husband, as soon as he was able to, he pulled you in close as he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips. a short yet eternal kiss that made him feel like the luckiest man on earth. parting, he held his lips near your ear, whispering, "'til death do us part."
yandere husband, once the wedding was over, he carried you to your shared hotel suite. immediately climbing into bed with you, smiling widely as he peppers you in kisses. you stay in his arms during the night, comfortably sleeping in his embrace after the long and overdrawn day. he adores your sleeping figure, keeping himself as still as possible as to not wake you. oh, how he can't wait to spend the rest of forever with you. "you're mine and i'm yours, my love. forever and always."
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vivid-ink · 7 months
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Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"
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fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)
Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...
Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k
Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!
Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan
And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.
You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.
“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”
A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.
When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.
Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.
You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.
You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.
“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”
“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.
Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”
A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.
The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”
With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.
Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.
The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.
The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.
A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”
His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.
You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”
Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”
You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.
“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.
“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”
Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”
He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.
He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.
“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.
He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”
Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…
Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.
You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”
You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.
“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.
“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…
“It was self-stimulated.”
“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”
“Female. Definitely female.”
His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.
He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.
The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.
Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.
Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”
“Sure.”
Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.
“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”
You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”
Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.
Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.
“What’s the next part?”
“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”
“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”
You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.
You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.
Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”
Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.
“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.
Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.
You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”
“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.
You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.
Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”
A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”
Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.
You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.
The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.
The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.
It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…
You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.
You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.
“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.
He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”
“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.
“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.
“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.
Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.
Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…
Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”
“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.
You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.
You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.
All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…
You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.
So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.
Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.
You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…
A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”
A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”
Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.
He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”
“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.
Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”
One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.
With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.
He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.
You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.
Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.
The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.
Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…
Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.
Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”
His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”
“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.
“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”
A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…
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hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write
i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!
Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader
Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.
Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.
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The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.
Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.
You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.
So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.
He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.
Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.
He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.
Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.
He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.
But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.
Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.
"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.
He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.
Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.
"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"
Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.
Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.
"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.
Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.
Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.
If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.
So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.
His little songbird was truly a genius.
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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starlight-bread-blog · 2 months
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Ember Island Players and Zutara
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Two approaches to analyzing literature are Doylist and Watsonian: Warsonian is about analyzing from an in-universe perspective, Doylist is about analyzing out-of-universe perspective.
For example: Why did the Gaang arrive at the swamp?
Watsonian: Because a hurricane made them crash.
Doylist: Because the writers wanted to explore the world & characters, foreshadow Toph, introduce plant benders, etc.
This analysis will be from a Doylist perspective. Meaning, I don't intend to prove Katara secretly canonically loved Zuko. She is a fictional character, she'll love whoever the writers want her to love. And the writers said she loved 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀. What I do intend to do is to show how the writing alluded to Zuko standing in 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀's way to being with Katara.
With that out of the way, let's dive right in!
At the beginning of the episode, when they sit down to watch the play, Zuko and 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 share this exchange:
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If you didn't catch that, look at Katara:
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This is a classic romance trope, typically used for female characters, to signify romantic feelings/a crush. But what is it doing here, when Zuko sits next to Katara instead of 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀? What is this interaction doing here in the first place?
When an episode aims to explore an aspact of the characters, it will remind the audience of it in the beginning. In The Waterbending Scroll, Katara steals a waterbending scroll and gets insecure about her waterbending. The episode opens with the Katara teaching 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 waterbending and getting insecure. In this instance, they want you to keep in mind the dynamic where... Zuko is in the way of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀? (That's without mentioning what Katara's doing with her hair). That is strange.
Moving on to the play – See the joke about Katara's characterization in the play:
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The point of Ember Island Players is while the play is heavily distorted, it is somewhat based on reality. It's funny and even gets under the character's skin sometimes because it shows them a parody of themselves. (Further evidence).
When we get to the the scene between Zuko and Katara in the Crystal Catacombs, for some reason, it's portrayed as some romantic moment.
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Acknowledging a fan pairing in canon from is always out of the blue/baity from the get-go. I cannot recall a time when another show that did this. Here however, it's under the premise of somewhat founded parody. Which begs the question:
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(Side note: There's been debate over Katara and Zuko moving away from each other. It's common for eventual romantic leads to deny attraction. It could be contextualized that way later and audiences aren't trained to rule out the pairing. The meaning is dereminted by the outcome).
Despite that, Katara and Zuko aren't in love. Everyone knows this, right?
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𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 is jealous. Jealous to the point where he gets up and leaves the theater. The thing that kicks off the conflict of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀 is... Zutara?
Speaking of the conflict, I won't dwell on it too much, but the events were the following: 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 adressed the kiss they shared in the invasion, a kiss that went unaddressed for 5 episodes. Katara is unable to commit to an answer. Her lines, isolated:
"𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀, I don't know" // "This isn't the right time" // "Right now, I'm just a little confused".
Until he kisses her once again.
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And realistically, she doesn't take it well. Many girls use this language to reject gently. This is purposely written to suggest that they might not end up together. All of which is kicked off because of Zutara. Remember the beginning: Zuko is in the way of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀.
When 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 is back in the theater, he's concerned about his future with Katara. It is showcased with this shot:
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𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 isn't angry at Zutara here, so why is Zuko in the shot? A director storyboarded this, it was planned. They could have easily leave him out of it and it would convey the message better. Leaving him here implies that he is somehow related to the conflict, That Aang is worried about them, while both of those things aren't true.
𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 not being able to sit next to Katara isn't ship baiting. 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 getting angry at actress!Katara not returning his feelings isn't ship baiting. Katara herself being unable to immediately return his feelings isn't ship baiting. What is ship baiting is how all of this is caused by Zuko to a degree.
Zuko stealing 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀's seat and Katara giving him a side glance is ship baiting. Zutara being canonically addressed in a play that's vaguely founded is ship baiting. The former causing 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 feeling jealous, leaving, and starting the conflict over it is ship baiting. Zutara is imbedded in the foundations of the episode. Ember Island Players plays out as if there is something between Zuko and Katara, when there isn't. That's ship baiting.
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fallingstqrss · 5 months
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kiss it better
request: can you do a one-shot just like the scene where coryo goes insane because he thinks that the reader left him in the cabin but she didn't and they just go to spend some quality time.
a/n: thank you so much for the request i love this idea!
summary: following the death of Mayflower and Billy Taupe you and coriolanus decide to flee the districts, hoping to avoid the persecution of the peacekeepers. however, when you seem to get lost in the woods coriolanus panics.
warnings: there is a brief description of mayfair's death but it's not detailed. coriolanus might be slightly ooc cause this is my first time writing him but i swear im trying my best.
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Coriolanus had made a huge mistake. he hadn't meant to kill Mayfair, he just panicked. He was just going to let her leave but then you walked in, making you a part of Sejanus' horrible plan.
"What's going on?" You spoke, eyes moving from Coriolanus to the weapons that lay on the table. Coriolanus saw as your eyes widened and he hurried to comfort you. "Corio, what's going on?" You questioned again, clutching onto his bicep, hoping for reassurance.
"Y/n, it's gonna be fine-" Coriolanus started, attempting to soothe you as he ran a hand across your cheek.
"Oh, none of you are going to be fine. I'm gonna tell my Daddy what all of you did and he's gonna string you up!" Mayfair spoke in an almost taunting tone. Her threat casts a chilling shadow over the room. As Mayfair turned to leave Spruce, fueled by tension and adrenaline, raised the gun to her back.
"I can't let you leave," Spruce spoke. Y/n took an unconscious step back, recoiling from the potential for violence. Coriolanus could tell you were scared and he felt horrible for being the reason you were involved in this. His mind was racing, he knew he had to get you out of there.
"She's bluffing, she won't actually do anything." Billy Taupe defended, eager to avoid any harm that might come to his girlfriend and to deescalate the growing tension in the room.
"Really? Was I bluffing at the reaping? Tell me Lucy Gray, how did you like your time in the Capitol?" Mayfair spoke, eyes staring at Lucy Gray, who gasped. Mayfair smiled as she turned to leave. Coriolanus jumped at the opportunity, lunging for the weapon on the ground. In a single second Mayfair had fallen to the ground. You gasped, your eyes fixated on Mayfair's fallen figure. Coriolanus was quick to shield you from the unsettling sight, positioning himself in front of you.
"I need you to go home y/n. I'm going to get this figured out. But you need to go home right now and you can't look like anything is wrong," He spoke, his tone firm and filled with urgency. "y/n, please." Coriolanus spoke again when you didn't move. You had stood still, trying to process the events that had just unfolded in front of you. Finally, you looked up at Coriolanus, a nod of reluctant understanding breaking through your shock. You trusted Coriolanus, he would get you guys out of this.
Coriolanus watched you leave, a mixture of relief and worry painted on his face. Once you were out of sight, he turned back to the remaining people in the room. He was determined, now that your safety was at risk nothing else mattered.
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That's how the two of you ended up here, walking through the woods, in search of life beyond the districts. Despite some attempts at small talk, the weight of the recent events hung heavily in the air. Coriolanus could sense you were struggling to come to terms with the deaths of Mayfair and, more importantly, your shared friend Sejanus.
"I just don't understand what happened. Sejanus' plan was horrible but he seemed like he was being careful," You rambled on, your voice heavy with confusion and grief. You were unaware of Coriolanus' involvement in the death of your friend. You also didn't notice the tension of the captured Coriolanus at the mention of Sejanus.
"He apparently wasn't careful enough," Coriolanus responded, his tone colder than usual, a deliberate attempt to steer away from the conversation surrounding Sejanus. He longed to focus on the two the two of you would spend together, the new life you could start. Coriolanus was taken aback when you came to an abrupt stop, forcing him to backtrack to stand in front of you. You stared up at him, your eyebrows furrowed.
"Do you not mourn for Sejanus at all, Corio?" You spoke, your eyes reflecting the sadness and confusion that weighed you down. Coriolanus felt a pang of guilt for being distant. However, the truth of Sejanus' death was a burden that he couldn't bear to share with you. He knew you would've never forgiven him.
"Of course, I do," Coriolanus spoke, his tone softer now in an attempt to console you. Coriolanus brought a hand to cup your cheek. "But, it was his actions that killed him." You still seemed unsure, offering a careful nod before turning your gaze to the ground. Coriolanus dropped his hand, moving to walk next to you again.
Eventually, the two of you arrived at the cabin shown to you by Lucy Gray and the Covey. Coriolanus couldn't shake the feeling of your silence, finding it unsettling. The two of you walked into the cabin, setting your things down. "We should fish for a while, we're going to need some food for the rest of the trip," Coriolanus suggested.
"Lucy Gray said there should be some poles under the floorboards," You spoke, avoiding eye contact with Coriolanus as you hung your belongings on the hooks by the door.
Coriolanus nodded, moving towards the boards he found to be loose. He lifted the boards, his eyes widening as he lifted the sheet to reveal the guns that had been used to kill Mayfair. You observed from across the room, a twinge of concern gracing your features. "What is it, Corio?" You questioned, his familiar nickname being a small sense of comfort in the moment of the unsettling discovery. He remained silent, picking up the gun as he turned to face you. Your breath caught in your chest as you saw the weapon, your mind flashing back to the violent events.
"It's the guns," Coriolanus stated, his eyes moving between the weapon in his arms and you. "This means we can go home," You hummed, nodding in agreement. The revelations held the promise of an escape. The promise of a way home. But, they also unearthed memories Coriolanus knew you could never fully forget.
"I'm going to see if I can find anything to eat around the lake, maybe that one root Lucy Gray mentioned," You spoke quickly, shaking your head as she grabbed one of the small shovels left near the door.
"Y/n, wait," Coriolanus spoke, sensing the uneasy energy that surrounded you. "It could be dangerous," Coriolanus spoke, his protective nature kicking in. You smiled as you recognized his instinct to protect you.
"Well, it's a good thing I've got this," You spoke, attempting a teasing tone as you held up the shovel. You could tell Coriolanus didn't quite believe you and you hurried out of the door. Coriolanus was worried for you but brushed off the interaction, trusting that you could take care of yourself. He rewrapped the guns, hoping to drop them into the lake, burying the echoes of the past.
Coriolanus stepped outside heading towards the boat. His eyes circled his surroundings, hoping to find you. However, he didn't see you. He looked around again, his breathing becoming more ragged as he called out for you. He was met with the horrifying echo of his own voice, no response from you.
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You had ventured into the forest after finding that Katniss was not ready to be eaten. You had hoped to find some berries, remembering the ones Maude Ivory had collected for you to eat. You attempted to ignore the way the trees seemed to close in on you, the path you thought you knew being erased. You ignored those thought, you had been going in a straight line, there were no place to get lost along the way.
"They should be up here," You whispered to yourself, letting out a sigh as you hoped to break the silence that lay within the forest. The rustling leaves and distant calls of birds engulfed you as you moved throughout the forest.
You had been walking for a while, looking around you realized you have never been in this part of the forest, a sign that you had gone way too far. You turned in various directions, spinning around as you searched for the way you came. Panic began to set in as you quickened your pace, unfortunately leading you to venture deeper and deeper into the forest.
In her disoriented state, you failed to see the root sticking out of the ground. Her foot caught on the root, causing you to stumble forward. Desperation clawed at you as you tried to regain your balance. However, the forest had other plans.
A divot in the ground forced you to the ground as your hands reached out to break your fall. The forest floor met you with a sickening thud, your head colliding with a moss-covered rock. The world around you spun, the pain in your head intensifying with every breath you took. As your consciousness slipped away, the forest seemed to blur into a blend of green and brown, the shadows seeming to dance together in a mesmerizing rhythm.
Back at the cabin Coriolanus grew restless as he awaited your return. The seconds felt like hours as he stared at the tree line, willing you to appear. Finally, Coriolanus was sick of waiting and decided that he would find you himself.
As he ventured into the forest the trees seemed to swallow him. His breaths came out fast, each step propelling him further into the silent forest. Anxiety was clawing at his chest, hundreds of what-ifs raced in his mind.
"Y/n? Did something happen? If something happens we can talk about it!" Coriolanus shouted, pausing as he awaited a response. But he didn't receive one, he only had the rustling leaves to greet him. The silence that surrounded him was deafening.
"Y/n, please say something. I need to know you're okay," He pleaded again. The forest remained silent, offering no hope to comfort his growing concern. Fear painted vivid scenarios in his head, each one darker than the last.
"Please, y/n, if I did something I'm so sorry. We don't even have to talk about it, please just come back with me." Coriolanus pleaded. His pleas became more urgent. His mood shifted from worry to complete despare quickly.
"Please, I can't lose you too." He spoke, this plea much quieter than the previous ones. His voice broke as he spoke, his eyes searching for any clue of you. His steps quickened as he moved around the forest, his handles trembling as he pushed branches out of his way.
"Please, y/n," He called one more time, assuming the worst. He'd come to the conclusion that you left him. It was either that or you were dead, but he couldn't bring himself to grasp the idea that you were dead.
Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you began to stir on the forest floor. The pain in your head still lingered but the sound of someone's voice distracted you from the pain. You listened more closely as you tried to sit up. Your senses were snapped back into reality when you realized that it was Coriolanus' voice you were hearing. The closer you listened you realized how distressed he sounded and it practically broke your heart. You listened again to his ever-present calls, trying to hear which direction they were coming from, his voice acting as a life-line.
"Corio," you called out weakly, standing as you braced yourself on one of the trees. Coriolanus' head snapped in the direction of your voice. He hurried in that direction, his eyes wide with fear and relief. "Coriolanus," You called out again, wondering if you had imagined him calling for you.
"Hang on y/n! I'm coming," He spoke. Relief washed over him when he finally saw you leaning up against one of the trees, Coriolanus rushed towards you. In your disoriented state you barely even realized he had found you until he engulfed you in his arms. Your senses finally started to come back to you as you reciprocated the embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist.
Coriolanus pulled away for a moment, his eyes scanning your face, he could hardly believe he'd actually found you. He'd thought you were gone for good. Your eyes met his, being met with a vulnerability from Coriolanus you'd never seen before. Coriolanus hated the way you made him felt. He hated how worried he always was for you. But, he also couldn't deny how much he loved you.
"What happened?" Coriolanus finally spoke, brushing your hair out of your face to examine the cut on your forehead.
"I was looking for those berries, the ones Maude Ivory showed us and I got lost, and then I think I tripped," you began to ramble, stopping yourself to take a breath before speaking again, "It's all kind of a blur." Coriolanus nodded as he processed what you said, unraveling his arms from you as he wrapped an arm around your waist to help guide you back to the cabin.
"Well, I think we should get you back to the cabin," Coriolanus spoke and you laughed as you nodded. You'd had enough of the woods.
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Back at the cabin Coriolanus used one of the med-kits you'd brought to clean you up. Your heart swelled at how gentle he was, his hands moving cautiously over your face.
"So, will I survive?" You questioned, a smile gracing your features.
"I think you'll be okay," Coriolanus responded, a smile of his own coming across his face. But, you could tell the smile didn't meet his eyes. You could tell something was still bothering him. The sunlight pouring in from the windows illuminated the worry that was still present in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the fear he'd felt when he thought you'd abandoned him in the forest.
When Coriolanus finished cleaning the wound he set the supplies to the side and leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on the spot he'd just tended to. The warmth of his lips lingered on your forehead, a comforting gesture that transcended the physical healing.
"There, kissed it better." Coriolanus whispered as he moved away from you, cleaning up the remaining supplies of the med-kit.
Despite his comforting gesture, you couldn't ignore the concern that was still etched on his face. As he finished putting the med-kit away he turned to look at you, being met with your questioning gaze. "Corio, you've been on edge since we got back. What's wrong?" You questioned him, taking a couple steps closer to him so you could wrap your arms around his waist.
Coriolanus hesitated, his eyes betraying his turmoil of emotions. He opened his mouth to respond but the words got caught in his throat. Tension lingered in the air as you searched his face for clues on what he was feeling.
"It's nothing, y/n. Just a scare, that's all. Everything is fine." Coriolanus spoke. However, despite his attempts to comfort you, you could still sense his unease. You reached upwards, cupping his face to draw his attention.
"Come on, Corio. Talk to me," You spoke. Coriolanus sighed, he was torn between his desire to shield you from his concerns and the intimacy the two of you had always shared. Eventually, he gave in.
"I just... I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you. losing you in the woods, even if it was just for a moment, it terrified me." Coriolanus confessed softly. Your eyes softened at his confession.
"I'm right here, Corio. I'm not going anywhere." You assured, he nodded. "I love you, Coriolanus. Wherever you go, I'm gonna be there." You spoke, his words caught him off guard. The two of you had never used the word love.
"Y/n..." Coriolanus started, his eyes moving away from you. However, your hold on his face forced his attention back onto you. "I've never been good at this, relationships. I'm afraid of losing you, of not being enough." You nodded, you understood Coriolanus' insecurities as he'd previously voiced some of his concerns to you.
"Corio," You took a step closer, "I love you for who you are. I don't need you to be perfect." You assured him. Your words hung in the air, in that moment, leaning into Coriolanus, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. Coriolanus, having been initially surprised by the kiss, eventually surrenders to the kiss. When the two of you pulled away you spoke again. "I want to go back to the Capitol, Corio."
Coriolanus looked surprised but that was overtaken by a look of happiness. He wanted nothing more than to return to his home and family, and now that you did too there was nothing stopping the two of you. "Wherever you wanna go, I'll follow you." Coriolanus spoke, repeating the words you'd said earlier, you smiled at him.
The decision being made, the two of you faced what leaving the woods meant. Coriolanus worked to dispose of the guns while you packed the remaining items you had at the cabin. As you walked out of the door you saw him pushing the boat back to shore. Coriolanus jumped out of the boat, outstretching his hand for you. You smiled at the gesture, moving to meet him, enclosing his hand with your own.
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indigovigilance · 6 months
Text
The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death
read on Ao3
The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.
Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.
In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.
Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.
In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:
Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person. 
It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard. 
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The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry. 
Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.
Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.
Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.
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In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.
But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.
I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling. 
I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.
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