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#trauma = personality spice
dire-sire · 2 years
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Congrats buddy!
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moongothic · 4 months
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Hey so what are your thoughts on the theory that Dragon might actually the biological son of Xebec? I think it's pretty interesting to think about considering the implications it has (depending on what ends up being canon).
For example, if Crocodad is real and Dragon is Xebec's son, that would imply that Garp's biological child is... Crocodile.
Also, I think it works well with the idea that Roger knew Garp would protect his child... because he saw him do that exact thing during the God Valley incident for the son of Xebec. Another child born from a man deemed an extreme by the World Government.
It's an interesting idea but the only reason people keep on suggesting that theory is just that the really vague silhouette of Xebec we have seen kinda vaguely resembles Dragon on the hair-department (and people want Xebec to connect to some other character somehow somewhere, thus we have also have people ALSO suggesting Xebec is related to (or straight up just is) Croc, Buggy, Blackbeard and god knows who else)
And I just personally don't buy it.
Main thing is that Garp has made it explicitly clear that Dragon is his child, his very own son, multiple times (and as recently as in the brief Aokiji flashback where he complains about his son becoming a revolutionary).
The other thing is that Garp and Dragon look alike
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Finding good panels to do comparisons is a bit hard, and the art can fluctuate a little bit (especially the hairlines for both characters) and when the characters aren't even doing the same expression it messes with the proportions a bit But generally speaking, they have similarly shaped hairlines and the same nose-shape. Hair texture too though it's less obvious since Garp has gone gray;; I would make a comparison to Young Garp but his nose is a different shape, but that just makes Young Garp look resemble Luffy so much more
Of course, I wouldn't put too much money on similar faces meaning things due to Oda's Same Face Syndrome, but really the only major differences between how Dragon and Garp look are Dragon's lack of eyebrows (or if he has eyebrows they're just really thin compared to Garp's bushier ones) and more hooded brows in general. In my mind, they look more alike than different and that very specific nose-shape alone says a lot
So I personally no doubt about Garp and Dragon being related, just as I have no doubt Garp and Luffy are related (and thus, by extension, Luffy and Dragon too)
It's also the fact that I see no point in Oda telling us who Luffy's dad is THROUGH GARP if they're not actually related, AND SO MANY YEARS AGO. Like, it'd just feel like a pointless lie, an absolutely useless plot-twist because like, while it would tell us a bit more about Garp, it wouldn't do anything to change Luffy and Dragon's non-existant relationship with each other, nor Luffy and Garp's. Like it'd be a twist for the sake of having a twist, throwing out nearly two decade old lore for what?
And I feel like Crocodad would make that even worse. Because suddenly we'd have to ask many uncomfortable questions about what kind of a relationship Garp has with his transgender pirate son. And if he considders his son-in-law more like his own family than Crocodile... fucking yikes, man. Like Garp is a flawed human being but I don't want to add that to the list of shit he's fucked up. Like despite everything, Garp is still understandable and likable (for me at least) and I just don't want him to get pushed over the edge like that
One last thing is that Dragon would've been 17 at the time of the God Valley incident (and Crocodile was 9). Like sure Garp could've lowkey adopted a 17 year old or just taken him in as a student, but still... He's a bit old to be taken in like that and for Garp to start considdering Dragon his own son
I just don't buy into the theory at all personally
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istherewifiinhell · 1 year
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If Leo gets in trouble I’m the first one in there, but right now it looks to me like Leo’s got more than one monster to work out of his system.
^quote that is like. so indicative of what the dynamic is. (raph speaking) just gonna explode about.
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ambrosykim · 7 months
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keeping my friend on his toes by texting him that i want to message my ex so he can immediately threaten to kill me 🥰🥰🥰
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righteousinadversity · 11 months
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I don't think any protagonist can ever top Wei 'Yiling Laozu' Wuxian. No one is doing it like him. He is an icon. He can shoot arrows blindfolded. He is a prankster. He falls for a boy and decides immediately that he must have said boy's attention on him at all time. He is necromancer exacting his vengeance. He is just three years old. He is a flirt. He has his first kiss in his twenties. He does not remember your name. He does remember that one song his crush sang to him in a cave when he was injured and feverish. He is a sunshine boy. He survived the hell of hells. He died and was unhappily brought back to life. He's the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. He walks the single plank bridge alone. He is the awesome gay uncle who knows everything. He is a pretty boy. He is the most moral, steadfast person you know. He is just a man throwing flowers to his love. He rips his hard won talent out to repay a debt that never was. He is a sister's boy. He is an abuse survivor. He is an urban legend. He is one of the most handsome men of his time. He has so much trauma. He plants children like radishes. He threw the arrow he was shot with from a rooftop and killed someone. He is a talented musician. He is a scheming fox. He can drink you under the table. He is so fucking tired of this bullshit. He has probably long since burned his tastebuds with the spice he puts in his food. He is broke. He kisses skeletons on their hands in gratitude. He confesses his deep, abiding love in the middle of being held hostage. He attempts the impossible and succeeds. He is an untamed hero, standing against a world condemning the innocent. He is everything.
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cc-kote · 4 months
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Nine people I'd like to get to know better
WOOPS I did not have time to do this for the past like, week but I've been wanting to bc I love silly little memes like this. Tytyty @ithillia for the tag :3
Last song: All Our Bruised Bodies And The Whole Heart Shrinks by La Dispute (It makes me think about Fives and it hurts so fucking much) 
Favorite colour: GREEN!! and also blue 
Last movie/TV Show: TCW of course, I had a Bad Autism Time™️ and my gf put on the fucking Umbara Arc to calm me down. It worked like a charm what the fuck is wrong w me lmfaooo. 
Sweet/Spicy/Savory: All of the above but spice hurts me. I do it anyway tho, mama raised a little bitch but she didn't raise a quitter lmfaoo. 
Relationship status: So fuckin down bad for my girlfriend hhh 
Last thing you googled: fuckjgn AO3 LMAOOO 
Current obsession: clonesclonesclonesclones forever. I haven't had a special interest/hyperfixation this deep since I was like 12-14 so like this is one of the most important things in my life tbh. Specifically like thinking about how their culture would work, and their solidarity, internal conflicts, shared trauma and how that would relate to those things. Their ideas about personal and cultural identity and how that would vary individually. Things like how their upbringing must have felt, how that affected them and who they became later in life, the things they're taught vs what they truly come to believe once they're out on the field, the psychological effects of O66 on the clones who survived and the devastating impact it must have had- Bro stop me or I'll keep going forever like. I'm in deep and tbh? I wouldn't change it for the world. 
NPT: LMFAO bold of this title to assume that I know 9 people on this site, or am brave enough to tag ppl I haven't talked to often fhsjdmksmf SO if you see this consider yourself tagged. Yes, You. idc if we've never talked It's probably bc I'm too baby, so (unless u don't feel like it) do it 👀 also @mamuzzy and @whatislifewithoutangst if y'all haven't already and wanna do this here u go! 
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milswrites · 30 days
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The Bat Boys X Bookworm!Reader
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Summary: What the Bat Boys (and Eris & Lucien) are like with their bookworm partners
Warnings: Lil smutty and nsfw (not too much just want to cover myself) so 18+ MDNI
Notes: Just a bit of fun really, it's different to what I usually write but I hope you guys like it!
Rhysand
Rhysand loves you
And if loving you means that he has to feed your obsession with buying books?
Then he would happily clear out all the bookshops in Velaris if it meant getting to see you smile.
Rhysand is rich-rich.
Which means if there's something you want? He'll buy it for you without question.
You once mentioned about how much you'd love your own library one day.
So of course by the end of the week you had your own little haven inside Rhysand's house with more books than you could ever dream of reading and your own little ladder to reach them all.
But he didn't stop there.
For your mating gift he purchased you your very own library in Velaris
In which Rhys may or may not have enacted his fantasies of sleeping with a Librarian.
Whilst Rhysand does like to read, his taste in books is very different to your own.
But even though he doesn't read the books you do, he's more than happy to sit and listen to you talk about your favourite ones for hours if that meant being able to see your eyes light up as you talked about something you loved.
But no books nor libraries could top the best gift he had ever given you.
A hand-written book containing the story of your relationionship.
Complete with crude little comments and drawings the High Lord had scribbled down in the margins.
Rhysand loved history.
So what better way to preserve his undying love for you than in-between the pages of a book which would last forever.
Cassian
Cassian had never been very interested in books.
He'd much rather experience the thrill of real fighting and action in person than spend his time reading about it on some dusty old pages.
In fact the only time Cassian had been in a library he had the terrifying encounter with Bryaxis.
Safe to say that the trauma he experienced was the perfect excuse for never stepping in one again.
Until he met you.
Cassian has always been the type of guy who's all in or nothing.
He discovers the person he has a crush on likes reading?
You know he's going to be walking around with books he's never even opened pretending like he is a well-read Illyrian.
Citing quotes he doesn't even understand just to try and impress you.
And once you're together?
You show Cassian exactly what he's missed out on when it comes to reading.
Especially when it comes to getting tips for your bedroom activities.
For months after you revealed to him the wonders that are smut books, Cassian would spend his free time delving through the pages looking for new ideas on how to spice up your sex life.
Claiming his increased interest in reading was due to 'research purposes'
Cassian is 100% down to roleplay characters from your novels
He loves being the big strong hero to your damsel.
Whenever Cassian catches you reading, happily curled into the comfort of your sofa, he'll approach with a smirk on his lips
"Any new tricks you'd like to try out? I think page 69 is worth a shot."
Azriel
Azriel's a busy guy.
He's always away on missions for Rhysand or working in the dungeons of the Court of Nightmare's
So he can be forgiven if when he comes home, reading is the last thing on his mind.
But what he does enjoy though, is when you read to him.
He can lay with his head in your lap for hours.
Humming along to whatever tale you tell whether it's fantasy, romance or a good thriller
Sometimes he'll even offer his input. Laugh when something especially funny happens or shed a tear whenever a character he likes died.
Azriel loves the sound of your voice
Enjoying the way you put on voices whenever a character is speaking.
He's grown to like the sense of domesticity that he feels whenever you read to him. Allowing himself to imagine you doing this to two little Illyrian babies of your own.
Reading to your wide eyed children as they are gripped by the tales you're telling
Azriel is also a gentleman.
Need a hand with carrying the books you're choosing whilst you shop?
He's there
Hands willingly taking everything you stack on top of him, trailing after you with your selections like a lost puppy.
And when you get to the till?
Azriel had already spoken to the shopkeeper upon entry and added anything you chose to his account. Claiming the books were just as much his as they were yours if you were going to read them to him.
Azriel is definitely the type of male who likes you to read your smut to him as he pleasures you, acting out the words on the page until you're unable to speak anymore, leaving the rest of the chapter to your own imagination.
Eris
Eris is a reader.
He loves nothing more than to settle down after a long day with a good book in hand and a steaming tea.
You can't tell me he doesn't find it the hottest thing ever when he discovers you like to read too
The two of you have your own little book club
You'll each read the same book and then have a little meeting when it's over to discuss what you thought of it.
He can also get really emotional and intense about them.
God knows the amount of times you've had to calm him down when a character has made a choice he didn't like.
I think Eris definitely likes to write too
Not seriously, but it's a good way for him to get his thoughts out and to escape from the day to day of his reality.
And he loves to have you read his work
To see the way your face lights with joy as your eyes flick through his beautiful prose.
A small smile upon his lips at the knowledge that the muse for his writings was you.
Lucien
Lucien also likes to read.
But the way you read?
It terrifies him.
The way you obsess over the characters from your stories.
Your passionate opinions on their decisions and the plots.
God forbid Lucien says something about them that you don't agree with.
Lucien finds you positively feral when it comes to the stories you like.
But that doesn't stop him from wanting to show interest in them too.
Lucien likes to read all your favorite books and leave annotations of his thoughts in the margins.
This was exactly how the two of you had gotten together, the male having gifted you with a copy of a book he had noticed you reading.
The pages filled with scratchy comments and opinions on everything that happened.
Lucien pours his soul into his annotations and you love that.
Lucien is also a poetry man.
He loves to recite verses to you which stick out to him
Sometimes they were romantic, making your heart stop in your chest and breath catch in your throat.
But Lucien was also a fan of satirical poetry
The most ridiculous, corny things you have ever heard.
He'll come find you as you're going about your day and recite his latest read to you - your eyes rolling to the back as you did so, yet you fail to hide the smile which crosses your face every time he does so.
He has also tried to write you poetry before, express the depth of his feelings towards you. Safe to say his lame attempt of a limerick earnt him a scoff and had you hiding all his poetry books from him for the next month.
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harmonysanreads · 16 days
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Recipe - Yandere!Sunday
Ingredients: A Fresh Sunday, Childhood Trauma, Crippling Anxiety, Bone-Crushing Loneliness, Political Power, Unpredictability, Intelligence, Empathy, Blessing of Xipe, A Darling, Salt
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INSTRUCTIONS
First make sure that your Sunday is dry of any past romantic experiences. The moisture from romantic experience interferes with the frying process but, if you don't mind getting a few extra burns, feel free to keep it. Now, take a large bowl and start by putting a dash of Childhood Trauma. Close your eyes and pour as much Bone-Crushing Loneliness as you desire, add a good chunk of Unpredictability and Intelligence into the mix. Don't worry about the measurements, just use your feelings.
Now, put Political Power into the amalgam ; you can empty out the entire packet if you really like the feeling of powerlessness. Add the Blessing of Xipe for a twinge of spice and a healthy portion of Empathy so whenever your Sunday thinks of how wrong his actions are, he kills himself a little inside. Last but not least, a pinch of salt because no dish is complete without it. Mix everything evenly and regret not getting a bigger bowl.
So this time, get a sufficiently large pot and fill it to about halfway with Crippling Anxiety. Turn on the heat and bring it close to the boiling point. Take your Sunday and marinate him with the mixture, make sure there's no empty spot on his person. Now, gently throw him in the boiling pot of Crippling Anxiety and wait for about 10 minutes.
You might be questioning why we need to fry him in Crippling Anxiety out of everything? That is because hot Crippling Anxiety will convert Bone-Crushing Loneliness into Possessiveness. Which will then branch out to Jealousy upon meeting the necessary conditions, but trying to identify this Jealousy will be near-impossible due to Sunday's immaculate ability to act (this talent is a byproduct of adding too much Childhood Trauma and Bone-Crushing Loneliness, as such, you don't have to worry about getting it from the store). So, don't waste your time there. By now, some parts of Sunday's Childhood Trauma have probably transformed into Relationship linked Insecurities. Wait for five more minutes and your Yandere!Sunday is crisp and ready.
Feel free to serve him with A Darling anytime — yes, they're the sauce.
CAUTIONS
Be careful when you release Sunday into the boiling pot of Crippling Anxiety, you wouldn't want to splash yourself in that.
Don't be greedy and eat some of the Political Power when you're pouring it in the bowl, it tastes very, very bitter.
The Blessing of Xipe is a crucial ingredient because it'll give your Sunday that unsettling aura. Don't let the shadiness deter you and just buy it.
Don't be too generous with the Childhood Trauma, we don't want our Sunday to be way too dysfunctional.
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im-not-a-joke · 2 years
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The want to be open about system stuff here vs the want for my mutuals to think I’m normal
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ipatrichor · 2 years
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fleshing out an oc is an emotional rollercoaster i’m ngl. :’ rn with juno it’s like:
 - you r isolated with a manipulative entity that’s turned you into a living weapon
- you have a friend outside of the shady organization enabling all that tho! 
- however you avoid getting too close to them because you’re afraid caring about someone would make them a target for the entity and you don’t trust yourself not to hurt them if ordered to
- you do have another friend, one who grew up in the same orphanage as you and you two were inseparable for years!
- that’s great except they’re the captain of the guard now and therefore your enemy even if they presumably don’t know it’s you bc of secret identity alter ego shit
- it’s clear they still care about you because of their concern for your poor condition on the rare occasion you run into each other!
- unfortunately you’re terrified of getting them hurt or betraying their trust worse than your current job already has so you do your best to avoid actually connecting with them in any meaningful way, only managing to hurt both of you in the process
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mandalhoerian · 11 months
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Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?
too good for me | leon kennedy x reader
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pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender) genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy! word count: 2.7K? It's short! notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!
🌀 read on ao3!
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“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him. 
You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere. 
It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?
He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain. 
He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?  
“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.
Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself.  “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”
“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”
You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight. 
“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”
“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”
“We don’t really need to—”
“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”
“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”
He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”
You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.  
He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…” 
His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy? 
You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead? 
You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand. 
“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"
Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words. 
Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…
Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality? 
Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway? 
He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus. 
Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not  —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life? 
You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.
"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."
Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.
"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"
You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”
“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”
“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something. 
“Hey, you can tell me.”
“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”
“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.” 
You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”
He blinks. “Sorry?”
“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like… You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”
“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?” 
“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat. 
 He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about. 
"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."
“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”
“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”
“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.” 
“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”
“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”
“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”
Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"
“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”
“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”
“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."
He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."
Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"
It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”
“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”
The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”
“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”
God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”
You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance. 
“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”
Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”
It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”
“Okay. Coffee date it is.”
He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”
“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”
There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself. 
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aeoncss · 22 days
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…some of my personal movie!mike schmidt hcs <3
disclaimer: you dont have to agree, just don’t be an ass. thanks!
tw: parent/sibling death, mentions of insecurity, nightmares, trauma flashbacks, some nsfw (18+!), could be ooc?? idk?? don’t quote me on it
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he’s a soft snorer. like the faintest sound comes through at night, and it’s usually when he’s laying on his back. when he’s sick, however, he snores so loud that abby has definitely thrown something at him to be quiet.
used to smoke cigarettes quite heavily. started in high school, then it turned into muscle memory that escalated into a harsh nicotine addiction. the second abby complained about the smell, mike stopped cold turkey, and hasn’t picked up a pack since.
does, occasionally, smoke weed though. usually in his car or in his garage late at night. spends extra time cleaning around and getting the smell out, including doing an extra load of laundry so his clothes don’t reek. it helps him sleep, although doesn’t do much for the nightmares.
mike has one of those huge CD books shoved underneath his passenger seat (it won’t fit in the glove box). it’s filled with many broken disks that are heavily scratched from use, and a lot of them belonged to his father.
he’s so bad at folding. so bad. he either hangs it up super sloppily or straight up just throws his clothes into his closet.
he prefers dogs over cats — although he takes the time to feed one of the neighborhood stray cats that abby has named ‘mr. whiskers’ because that’s gonna become his pet goddamn it
listens to a lot of korn, foo fighters, deftones, and the offspring. mike kinda refuses to play that kind of music in the car with abby around, so he might have grown to subconsciously love spice girls and a*teens as well…
grows insecure when he finds himself in a relationship, feeling like he equally can’t be enough or that he’s doing too much. mike has such a fear of pushing away good things from him, so it takes a lot of reassurance for him to finally understand that he isn’t doing anything wrong.
falls asleep during horror and romance movies. physically just can’t do it.
he can’t ever listen to the romantics ever again. if he hears even a snippet of ‘talking in your sleep’, his body straight up shuts down and mike goes into automatic panic mode.
service switch — really, he just wants to please his partner in any way. he doesn’t have a preference for anything sexually related, but he definitely gets a kick out of how good he can make his lover feel. he might have studied one too many playboys.
he doesn’t really realize how much he craves affection until after he gets into a relationship. whenever his partner leaves for the night, he feels like a piece of him is somehow lost, and he nonstop thinks about how nice it was to just be in their arms — even if it was just for a short moment.
besides the reoccurring nightmare of garrett, mike developed a new one after the events at the pizzeria. he can’t save abby in time, the sound of spring locks echoing deep inside his brain that he wakes up so physically ill. he has to go check in on her to get himself to calm down.
has a few really shitty stick n’ poke tattoos that one of his old high school buddies did while drunk together. he has a little stick figure on the inside of his left wrist, and a horribly disproportionate star on his right.
he’s a moaner. not a loud one, but there has been times where he’s either had to cover up his mouth by a pillow or even by his partners hand. it’s not overtly obnoxious or dramatic, more hushed pants and quick whimpers that escape deep from his throat. when he’s close, that’s when he gets a bit louder, the sound almost guttural.
he really gets a kick out of seeing his partner in his clothes or just doing something in his house. sitting on the couch just TV surfing? he’s hiding behind the doorway to the kitchen just so he can try and get his hard-on to go away.
mike was the type of kid in high school that genuinely did try to pass with good grades, but he just barely managed to scrape by without getting held back from graduation. it’s a regret of his, but understands what was going on during that time.
nicknamed his honda accord ‘marvin’.
really into making out, sometimes preferring it over sex. he likes the closeness and just enjoys the action of kissing — plus, it’s really nice foreplay.
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looneyleyle · 3 months
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waves ~ f. odair
synopsis: a look into the healing mind of a tortured champion
warnings: angsty, hunger-games typical trauma, some hurt and comfort, mentioned forced prostitution
words: 1916
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first person pov
waves.
that was what the doctors told me to focus on. well, they told me to focus on something calming. something soothing that i could draw upon from my life before the capitol, before the games, before the trauma.
so, i thought of waves. not the big flashy ones far out on the horizon. i thought of the small ones that ripple just barely onto the sand line at night. the ones that would lightly wash over my bare feet during my nightly strolls with finnick.
finnick. another constant from my life, but not before the trauma. we were raised in the same district, but i didn't know him before the games. he would always be out in the water, spearing fish and weaving baskets, whereas i sat in the shop, drying up ocean plants and grinding up chunks of sea salt. i knew of him during his games, of course, but i never met him until i was reaped myself. it was a couple of years after him, five to be exact. my family was one of the poorer ones of the district. our shop didn't bring in much money, as most families collected and made their own herbs and spices from their time in the water. we mainly sold to the older folks who couldn't go out themselves, or when families needed something in a pinch. that was why i had my name in so many times. it was my last year of being eligible for the games, so i applied for a tesserae for each of my family members. rarely anyone else in the district applied for it, but there were a few other kids who did the same, coming from the same poorer part of the district as i did.
and so, as fate had it, i was reaped for the seventieth hunger games, and came to know the capitol's darling, finnick. he was a charming boy, everyone in panem knew that. by the time of my games, he had sprouted into quite a handsome young man, at the ripe age of 19. i was only a woman, of course i recognized it. in fact, i savored it. i knew i had no skills to win the games, i might as well drink in the sights before the end.
miraculously, i survived my games. survived was... a word you could use, i guess. the neverending trauma, the waking up in cold sweat, the sound of screams ringing in your ears never feels like "surviving", but that's what it could technically be called.
this is the part where i tell you that finnick was there to comfort and guide me through these times, except it's not. in fact, something in my games set him off so badly that he hid himself from me. during my victory tour, he locked himself up in his room, only showing his face during the speeches. instead, mags comforted me, being the wonderful woman she is. she waved off finnick's behavior with a sad glint in her kind eyes whenever i brought it up.
instead, it was me who comforted him. i was sitting in my room in the capitol, waiting for the party the following day at snow's mansion, when i heard a loud thunk outside of my door. when i opened it, i saw finnick, leaned up against the wall, in a daze. i immediately ushered him in, his body moving lethargically through the apartment. he all but fell onto the couch, eyes dragging along the surroundings until they finally honed in on me. when he locked eyes with me, his expression faltered, and his eyes began to water. i didn't know what was going on, the ever so cocky and charismatic man was in my victory tour apartment, almost sobbing.
"i won't let them take you, i won't let them." was all he was able to say. he muttered it over and over again, i started to seriously worry about my safety. who was 'they', and what did they want with me?
he later explained the predicament, how the capitol would take "desirable" victors and sell them to the highest bidder for the night. he told me about his 'friend' who had gone through it, but even as the word 'friend' left his lips, he knew that i saw right through him.
when my victory tour officially ended, i returned to district four with a new house and all the riches in panem. i offered my parents and sister to live with me, but they insisted on staying in the shop. they wouldn't take the money i got from the games either, but i managed to pay off a fair few of their bills before they could realize it each month.
so, i was the sole occupant of an overly extravagant house, no need to work, no need to fish, no need to lift a finger. my job was to sit there on the couch and rot away.
after one of his particularly long stays at the capitol, finnick and i found ourselves in a very similar situation to before: him, leaning on my door, broken, looking for some form of real human connection. i, of course, let him in, and just sat there and talked with him. he began to get antsy, pacing my living room. it was still fairly warm outside, so i decided to take him on a nice, calming, late-night walk on the beach. we let the little waves nip at our feet as we talked about small things, nothing too serious. it felt like everything in our lives were entirely too serious, and a break was much appreciated.
this became our routine. every time finnick got back from the capitol, he would show up on my doorstep, and we would take a long walk on the beach. finnick once told me that it was the only way he could get through those stays there, the thought that he would soon be walking among the waves with me.
waves.
when finnick got reaped for the quarter quell, it felt like the air was knocked out of me. it was finnick and mags, and while i stepped forward to volunteer, i was held back by one of the other victors. finnick had talked to me about it a few nights before, lying in bed with me. he made me promise that if one of us was reaped, the other wouldn't volunteer. it would do us no use if we were both in there. there was no chance of the capitol allowing two victors to make it out of the games alive again, not after the chaos that followed katniss and peeta's victory.
as soon as finnick was transported off to the capitol, i locked myself in my house. my bedsheets still smelled like him, and i bunched them up in my hands and cried into them.
i battled with myself, wondering if i should even watch the games. on one hand, i'd know for a fact if he was alive. on the other, i don't think i could bear the sights of him being maimed, mauled, or mutilated. ultimately, to keep my peace of mind, i decided against watching the games. one of the other victors watching was to inform me if he died, and nothing else. i instead spent my days weaving, something finnick taught me over the years. it was his way of focusing his mind, calming the thoughts. when i weaved, it was like he was there right behind me, arms wrapped around my torso as he whispered into my hair the directions.
i didn't know how many days into the games it was, but one day, at some late hour of the night, i heard knocking at my door. my stomach dropped. i could only assume the worst, that someone was here to tell me that finnick had died. i rushed down the stairs and swung open the door, only to be met by a mob of peacekeepers who violently dragged me out of the house and knocked me unconcious.
i don't remember much of what happened to me whilst in the capitol, and the doctors say that's good. they don't want me dwelling on whatever torture they might have put me through. but it freaked me out. according to the doctors, i was there for months. months of my life were just casually blank in my memory, and that freaked me the fuck out. this would be the point where i would start hyperventilating, and the doctors would tell me to focus on the waves.
waves.
the small waves that would hit the sand back at home. the waves of golden hair resting on my chest when i would wake up in my house in victory village. the now bronzer waves that i would see during my daily visitor hours. the lack of sunshine in thirteen really paled out finnick's appearance, though i've been told it was worse when he knew i was still in the capitol. they knew i was precious to him, they knew taking me would be the ultimate revenge towards him. as to how they knew about me and finnick, i had no clue. we weren't officially anything, though i suppose it was a bit incriminating when he moved over half of his belongings to my house a year or so after my games. after all, snow had eyes everywhere.
after a month or so in the medward of district 13, i was finally cleared to roam around on my own, provided that i came in for weekly check-ins. as soon as the words left the doctor's lips, finnick was at the door to my room, arm poised to help steady myself as we walked around. the doctors suggested that we head down to the cafeteria to get me socialized, but finnick seemed to have other plans. i didn't know my way around thirteen, but i knew that a latch in the ceiling certainly could not be the way into the cafe. instead, it took us outside. it was night out, and much colder than the nights in four ever were. finnick simply looked back at me, hand extended towards me with a question lingering in his sea green eyes. i took his hand with no hesitation, letting him pull me up and into the grass. the fresh air filled my lungs, after months of being locked up in stuffy rooms, both in the capitol and in thirteen. we walked in silence, me taking everything in, finnick's hand never leaving mine. eventually, i felt the texture of the ground beneath me change. looking down, i watched as my feet were swallowed by sand. my eyes quickly surveyed the area around us, and quickly spotted a calm pond fed by a small stream. the stream caused the slightest of ripples in the water, which just barely made it to the sand.
"it isn't anything like four, but it's the closest we have here. i would come out here almost every night while you were in the capitol, right there, hoping that i would get to take you here sometime, or better yet, to take you back to four." he told me. i looked up at him, my body aflame from his words. my heart was heavy, knowing how much he suffered while i was there, but knowing that we were here, right now, helped wash away the pain, like the waves hitting the sand.
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box-dwelling · 4 months
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Shit that I don't think is RTD being passive aggressive about the other show runners because they're his colleagues and he seems like a nice dude but deserved to be passive aggressive jabs because he is not a hack fraud from The Giggle.
The only thing from chibanls era being brought up by the toymaker being the emotional fall out of the flux, a thing chibnal had no interest in exploring despite clearly being the most interesting thing in his run
Spice up your life, being a reference to the Rasputin number which is the only other good thing chibnal ever did but that RTD still beat his ass with
Having 90% of the supporting cast be women, all written distinctively and empathetically and non of whom showed any interest in the doctor a thing moffat could never do
This is pre his era but actually writing a proper arc and personality for Mel.
Honestly the entire you are running from your trauma arc seems like a chibnal slight because he really did not care to write that shit at all
Bigenerataion. Feels like he just decided the timeless child fucks with the lore enough he can have Ncuti break it in his underwear with a comically oversized hammer. Which is deeply correct of him.
The Clara was killed by a bird line
Please tell me if I missed anything
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vinelark · 10 months
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ALL timkon recs I BEG
hello hi! here are some of my favs! it got long so putting some under the cut
💄 Lipstick on the glass by @cairoscene read for timkon being soft and goofy and disgustingly in love, set in vague future college-y years with amazing core four dynamics too. cair is one of the funniest people to ever exist and we are so blessed that they decided to write some timkon. (also read for my own greatest contribution to literature, the fictional “jerry the void nexus” meme)
🎢 been a number and a name by @wynterstars i had SO MUCH FUN reading this one, a 90s comics-divergent AU where robin and superboy become friends—and crushes—when superboy is pretty new on the scene. feat. lex luthor being terrible, tim staging a rescue operation that at one point involves platform shoes and a blonde wig, spice girls references, and fantastic action sequences. it’s also a series, with an installment focusing on kon & clark, and a currently updating longfic sequel with SO MANY timkon identity shenanigans (my beloved) and kon feelings (also my beloved).
📸 the surveillance series by @smilebackwards i feel like i rec this all the time but it’s because it’s THAT GOOD. a tim-centric AU where tim joins the family late, but is still involved in bat business without the bats realizing. there’s some fun timkon identity shenanigans at the top, and some of my all-time favorite tim characterization (ruthless! lonely! brilliant!) plus a great tim & bruce arc, too.
🦉 Detours by miyaji_08 this is part 2 of a series and i def recommend reading the whole thing! a reverse robins + joker jr au that has lots of trauma and lots of healing, and in part 2 there’s timkon identity shenanigans that’s simultaneously enemies to lovers + And They Were Roommates. tim sure does run a gauntlet of horrors in this series, but it has so much healing and also one of my fav reverse robins concepts i’ve read so far.
📱 unfurl by @burins tim and kon might be dating, and there’s no kryptonian sex ed handy. bruce, being bruce, makes it his business, which means talking to clark and Realizing some things about his own feelings. superbat are billed first here, but i think timkon steal the show—i laughed out loud like five different times reading this. hilarious and sweet on all sides. (and if you like this, check out their timkon road trip fic!)
🌾 A Saturday Evening by malcyon in which tim visits the kent farm for family dinner with kon, feat. very sweet established relationship timkon and fun superfamily dynamics, and it touches on tim’s past grief over kon’s death (and complicated feelings post-undeath).
🤼‍♂️ Sore Loser by @hearteyeshayley kon learns that tim always let him win while sparring, and has to process that. this was such a fun exploration of tim’s prowess as a fighter—one who regularly has to go up against superpowered friends and foes alike—and also tim as a person who is always doing mental calculations about the people around him (in an endearing way). kon, too, got his time to shine and grow, and the ending was so smart and sweet.
🔮 Ascension by Violet_Witch an AU longfic where tim is a witchling and kon is a fallen angel who has (oops) just lost his wings. tim sets out to help get kon’s wings back, and there’s a ticking clock because angel wings are dangerous in the wrong hands—and tim has a big, horrible secret that’s about to come due. the plot/worldbuilding of this was WILDLY cool, and there was a big ol misunderstanding in the middle that had me clawing my face off (in a good way).
🌌 straight on ’til morning by merils kon vs. the terrifying ordeal of growing up, feat. sweet friends-to-lovers timkon and really thoughtful exploration of some of kon’s canon past relationships and their abusive dynamics. i haven’t finished this one yet but it’s been rec’d multiple times and i’m excited to dive back in (and it's recently complete!)—and what i have read so far gave me an amazing sequence of kon and dick interacting and dick’s big brother mode activating in an instant, which is something i now desperately need more of.
📧 aaaand would it even be a reclist by me if i didn’t include send to all by @cairoscene the absolute moment i find myself feeling down i go reread this and boom. i am instantly laughing again. timkon are just one part of a bat grab-bag here but they are so so funny and cute and in-character. maybe one day i’ll compile the timkon-centric sequel that exists in my head but for now i’ll just go reread this for the zillionth time.
okay yeah!! i’m probably missing so many good fics here because i constantly have like a zillion tabs open that i plan to read someday. also i reserve the right to reblog later like OH I FORGOT— but in the meanwhile, happy timkon reading!
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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months
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Solstice Tree Farm
(Christmas Tree Farm)
Azriel x Reader
A Taylor Swift inspired ACOTAR fic
This can be read as stand alone but is a follow up taking place on the solstice before the epilogue of this one shot: Part 1: Ivy (Covered in You)
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warnings: sexual content, suggestive language, language, alcohol
Az held my hand tightly, warming the chill of my freezing hands. “Holidays can be hard. Five hundred years later and I still get hit with pangs of sadness when memories of my childhood creep their way to the forefront of my thoughts.”
“Yeah,” I frowned. “That makes sense. Trauma never really disappears, we just learn to cope with it.”
He nodded, giving me a soft smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ll always be here to help you through the hard times, Y/N. Whether you need a listening ear, space, or words of understanding.”
My eyes lined with silver as I leaned my head gently against his shoulder “I love you, Az.”
He brushed a kiss to my forehead, his plush lips warming me from the inside out. “And I love you. Always.”
My steps halted as I spotted a new wine bar lit up with the sound of its patrons friendly laughter rolling out the front doors. “Oh, I need to get Mor a bottle of wine and I hear they have a perfectly spiced mulled wine here that is imported from Winter.”
Az put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. I browsed the selections, snagging the wine Mor had raved about. We had started an annual tradition of wrapping gifts together while each downing a bottle of wine. It was no surprise that the more gifts we wrapped, the sloppier our wrapping jobs became. The special tradition between my friend and I both filled Az’s heart with warmth and…. made his eye twitch just a little bit. Ever the perfectionist, my mate. His wrappings were always the neatest of the inner circle.
As we browsed the aisles of the wine bar’s shopping section, something caught my eye. A Chardonnay imported from Vallahan - the same wine that was shared between my former husband and I at our wedding.
Nausea roiled in my stomach, the room suddenly feeling too hot. “Az, I… I need to get out of here.” His brows furrowed with concern but he asked no questions as he quickly stepped with me out of the store.
My heart raced. I loathed my husband, his death at my hands was deserved, and I did not miss my life in Vallahan at all. However, there was still blood coating my hands and I was not a violent person.
Az looked to me and I knew that his shadows, my favorite one in particular, noticed the wine too. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
“No, I just needed air. I can find mulled wine for Mor elsewhere I’m sure.”
Az offered to go back into the store to get it but I gripped his hand tightly, needing his presence to keep me grounded.
Digging through my mind for any other topic, I asked, “Have you ever seen the bears from the Winter Court?”
Az smiled as we resumed our walking, “I have several times over the centuries. They were also a valuable resource during the war with Hybern.”
I thought for a moment. “I’d like to see them some day.”
We walked for another fifteen or so minutes before I finally asked to return home, fatigue overtaking me. Az swooped me up in his arms and flew me back to the townhouse. We’d occupied it as our personal residence for years now, thanks to Rhysand and Feyre’s generosity.
We could have purchased another house in the city but this one held so many memories to Az, memories of our family, staying there made me feel like I had been a part of their lives for much longer.
~~~~~~~
The next morning, I slept in longer than normal. Azriel had to leave early for a meeting with Cass and Rhys. He left a note stating he’d be home with pastries from our favorite bakery in a few hours.
He’d been so busy recently with work. I had been busy too. I’d taken to assisting Feyre and Ressina at the studio. The children warmed my heart and while I was not good with painting, I loved working with my hands. Each year at solstice, I’d taken to offering crafting classes for the littles to make gifts. It filled my heart with even more joy than I thought possible.
I stretched, as I awoke from bed. My body aching from whatever odd position I seemed to fall asleep in last night. Az and I had every intention of “heating things up” after we’d shopped but I fell asleep while he rubbed my back. He must have sensed that I needed the rest - the reprieve from the depths of my mind - as he let me be.
While I definitely appreciated his thoughtfulness, part of me wished he would have woken me. Tiredness aside, I was hungry for his touch, every nerve in my body screaming out for him. Just thinking about it made my breasts heavy and aching to feel him on me, my thighs squeezing tightly together to relieve the ache if only slightly
I thought about taking the time to scratch that particular itch myself but I had to get ready for my afternoon class.
~~~~~~~
The class went well. Feyre had stopped by to see the children and do some painting in her office. She’d squeezed me tightly, placing a kiss on each cheek in greeting. Gratitude filled me for how accepting she’d been of me when I first came to Velaris from Vallahan. The whole family instantly made me feel welcome, we’d grown so close over the past 10 years.
After the class, Feyre and I decided to visit a nearby tea parlor - chatting about everything from art and politics to Nyx and holiday plans. I laughed as she shared a story of Rhys sneaking off with Nyx to “attend court business” with Kallias and Viviane - but instead it was just to have the pair and their children train Rhys and Nyx on the latest snowball fighting techniques. Anything to gain a competitive edge for their own annual fight at the cabin.
After a while, Feyre reached across the table to squeeze my hand. Her blue-gray eyes meeting mine as she asked if I was doing okay. Daemati abilities aside, she was naturally very perceptive of emotions. I finally confessed to her that I hadn’t been in the holiday spirit this year when normally it was my favorite time of the year. She’d offered comfort in return and shared her own stories of times that she had struggled during the season as well, adding that Rhys had especially struggled after returning from under the mountain
It was reassuring to hear that my family understood the underlaying feelings of melancholy that could rise to the surface during such a joyous season.
When I arrived back to the townhouse, I was greeted with a box of pastries and a note from Az apologizing that we’d missed eachother.
I definitely needed the visit with Feyre but felt a bit guilty for missing him. In true Azriel fashion, there was an arrow pointing to the back of the note:
“Don’t you dare feel guilty for not being home. I’m glad that you and Feyre spent time together.”
Momentarily confused by how he knew where I’d been, the glazed look Feyre had gotten at one point during our tea time came back to me. Gods, daemati powers would be convenient.
~~~~~~~
Azriel didn’t return home until late that night. I’d dozed off while reading on the couch, waking up to him carrying me back to our bed. I gave him a sleepy smile and informed him there was food from our favorite take away spot in the kitchen.
The strong hold of his muscled body pressing into me reignited the fire that had burned inside of me that morning. Clearly scenting my arousal he gave a feline grin. “I’m hungry for something else.”
Our joining that night was hard and fast. I came quickly which only fueled his male pride, by the time he was through with me I was completely and utterly satiated. I all but fell asleep on my mate before he lifted me off of him, curling into me. I awoke briefly in the night to find his wings encompassing us - the warmth and darkness quickly soothing me back to sleep.
~~~~~~~
Once again I woke to an empty bed. I couldn’t help the frown that formed at his departure. We always had an understanding of the unexpected absences that occurred with his work. Selfishly, I had just hoped to spend the morning in bed with him.
I leaned to my side of the bed to find a note reading,
“Don’t hate me for taking off so early. You just looked too beautiful, I couldn’t bring myself to wake a sleeping angel.
Rhys needed Cassian and I at the Hewn City, I promise I’ll be home soon.
I love you.”
I was loved and I was grateful. To go from a loveless marriage to a mated pairing so full of love that the only hint of sadness came from the absence of his presence. And then, even in his absence, he still made his love known. The thought made my stomach flutter.
The fluttering quickly went away as nausea rolled in. I’d forgotten to eat the take away food I brought home last night, falling asleep full of Az instead. I hadn’t eaten since scarfing down a pastry when I returned home from tea with Feyre.
I ran to the bathroom, dry heaved, and then made my way to the kitchen - instantly feeling better after reheating the leftovers from last night.
I took a bath and got ready for my afternoon class when I heard the door open, shadows greeting me before I even heard Azriel approach. He gave me a mischevious look, eyes gleaming.
He was up to something.
I smirked. “That look means trouble. What did you do?”
He just smiled, taking my hand and nodding his head toward our bedroom. “Come here.”
We entered the room and he snapped his fingers. Shadows taking it as a cue, they began swirling into a funnel of darkness. They cleared and two suitcases appeared in their absence. Mine had a gorgeous knee-length cobalt blue wool coat hanging next to it along with a matching scarf and hat, and lined leather gloves.
I looked to Az, filled with excitement and confusion. “The coat and accessories are absolutely gorgeous, and in your color! I couldn’t love them more. Thank you.” I nodded toward the suitcases, “What about those though?”
“We’re going on a trip.” He smiled. “I talked to Feyre and she’ll cover your classes while we’re gone.”
“You packed my bags?” I asked.
“I’m your mate. I know what you like.” A playful look of arrogance masking his face.
“Alright, Spymaster, I’m at your disposal.”
Before I could follow up with questions the luggage disappeared and Azriel took my hand launching us into a winnow.
~~~~~~~
My jaw dropped. Before me in a snow covered clearing surrounded by large mountains and spruce trees of all sizes was a barn transitioned into a home. It was absolutely stunning with twinkling fae lights outside, a warm glow shining from within. The house was decked with spruce and evergreen branches, boughs of holly, each window and door donning wreaths.
“Az? Is this where we are staying?” I marveled.
“Welcome to the Winter Court, my love. Kallias and Viviane are letting us use their evergreen farm as a getaway.” His smile shone brighter than any of the twinkling fae lights. He gestured toward the door, “Come, take a look around.”
Once again, my jaw fell as I took in the inside of the barn turned lodge. A fire warmed the room from the massive stone fireplace, illuminating the reclaimed wood accents filling the place. Huge fur rugs blanketed the floor of the open loft. In a corner of the space, situated in front a wall of windows was a spruce tree that had to be twenty feet tall, decked with ornate trimmings.
“This is……. It’s incredible, Az. I don’t know what to say.” I leaned into him, sending waves of adoration and gratitude down our bond, to which he sent back a surge of love.
Taking my hand, he walked me to the plush sectional couch in front of the fire where warm mugs of cocoa, mints, and a tray of various Winter Court delicacies for grazing awaited.
“I’m sorry…” he sat, pulling me down into his lap before continuing, “for leaving this morning. I know the past few weeks have been difficult for you and after our excursion into the city the other day,” he cut off, eyes filling with empathy. “Well, I thought maybe we could use a pre-solstice getaway. I came here to prepare everything for us beforehand. There’s no better place to get into the holiday spirit than the Winter Court.”
My eyes teared up as emotions flooded me. Gods, I am such a sap. But this male, he never failed to amaze me. His love and devotion to me was euphoric. Nothing in the world could match the high of being with him.
“I love you, Az,” I choked up. “Thank you. This is incredible.”
He wiped a lone tear that fell onto my face and replaced it with a kiss.
The single kiss relit that flame smoldering inside me as I straddled his lap, pressing my mouth to his, tongues and teeth crashing into eachother. In between breaths he managed to get out “Do.” kiss. “You.” Deeper kiss. “Want to” a kiss to the column of his neck. “Go out t-.” a nip to the neck and a heated kiss to take away the pain. “Fuck it.” he ground out before ripping my top off and pinning me underneath him. I snapped my fingers and the rest of our clothes disappeared completely.
~~~~~~~
One hour? Two hours? Three, maybe? blissful hours later, he carried me to the bathroom where a hot bath awaited us. My body ached for it. Az stepped in, setting us both down and situating me between his legs. He rubbed my tense shoulders, a particularly deep knead making my eyes roll back into my head and an involuntary moan escape my lips. “Fuck,” he cursed. “That moan.” He repeated the motion on the opposite shoulder, garnering the same involuntary response. “So. pretty.” He said, voice low, dripping with lust.
Those words alone caused me to rest my head back on his chest, looking up into his eyes. His renewed arousal incredibly evident against my back. He firmly placed a calloused hand on my neck, leaning down to kiss me. Hard. Before I could turn around, he gripped my hips. Strong arms lifted me up before sinking me down onto him, inch by torturous inch bringing the sweetest pleasure back to my body.
~~~~~~~
After a long bath that may or may not have needed to be reheated not once but twice, and sliding into the most comfortable bathing robe to ever grace my skin, we padded to the bedroom.
This room was the type of room that one could enter and be totally content never leaving. A massive four poster bed situated on top of a fluffy white rug called to me. Its blankets and pillows could swallow myself, my large Illyrian mate, and his massive wings. A fire warmed the space and the floor to ceiling window overlooked a hillside at the edge of the clearing, city lights burned brightly down below as coin sized snowflakes fell lazily from the sky.
Candles were lit around the room and fae lights softly illuminated the space. A knock from the outside door interrupted my moment of awe. Az pointed toward a box on the bed, stating he would be right back.
Not sure who could possibly visiting us, I padded over to the bed and opened the gift wrapped box. Inside lay a silken robe and matching sheer night gown. My heart fluttered as once again, the gown was dyed a gorgeous cobalt blue. I dropped the heavy robe I was wearing to dress myself in the see-through gown barely reaching below my ass, the new robe, and matching thong. I sighed at the luxurious feeling of silk lightly caressing my more intimate areas.
“Gods.” Az spoke lowly from the door behind me. “You’ve always been devastating in my color, but this…. I’m starting to think that this is YOUR color. You’re an absolute goddess.”
I turned as he carried in a tray of steaming food. “I had this delivered from the city’s Solstice Market.”
My stomach rumbled at the sight of the stuffed bread, potato pancakes, and sausages on the platter before me.
“Oooh, Az, this is incredible! You’ve really thought of everything.” I looked at him intently. “Thank you, my love, truly.”
He smiled and placed the tray on a table for two set up in the room. I grinned as the smells of the food wafted toward me, “let me run to the kitchen and see if there’s a wine cabinet!”
“Sorry darling, it seems that is the one thing that I didn’t think of. But we do have hot apple cider.” He motioned to a kettle on the large tray that I’d somehow overlooked.
“That’s perfect!” I reached to the kettle and poured a mug of it. The absolutely divine smell of it filling my nose.
~~~~~~~
I awoke the next morning in Azriel’s arms. His wings cocooning us protectively. I turned around to face him, peppering kisses to his lips, nose, and cheeks.
His eyes slowly fluttered open and my heart nearly stopped at the sight of his gold-flecked hazel eyes and long, dark eyelashes. Nearly ten years in and the full effect of him never failed to awe me.
After dinner the previous night, we had cuddled on the bed as his fingers lifted up the hem of my nightgown. He traced lazy circles and lines up and down my waist, the dips of my hips, my abdomen, he spent extra time and attention on my breasts: tracing, tweaking, and gently pulling my nipples, as if he’d never touched them before. I, of course, encouraged the behavior by arching back into him and letting out an occasional soft moan.
At one point, he just stopped all motion, staring deeply into my eyes. Wonder and adoration shone as he stared, as if he too had never lost his awe toward me. We had eachother three more times during the night. Something about the intimate getaway felt like accepting the bond all over again.
I snapped from my thoughts as Az playfully nipped at my ear, retracting his wings from around us.
I looked toward the outside, snow capped mountains gleaming under the sunlight. “What’s on your agenda for us today?”
“That is a secret for me to know, and you to find out later.”
Running a single finger down the length of his chest, torso, lower - I cooed. “I hear that I can be quite convincing, Spymaster.”
His only response, a smack to my ass, “Come on, greedy. That would spoil the fun.”
Begrudgingly I got out of the bed, the warm rug beneath feeling like heaven on my feet.
~~~~~~~
After a delightful breakfast at a cafe in the city, Azriel led me toward a massive building on the outskirts of it, on the opposite side of the palace grounds. Several males posted themselves outside of the structure - one of which recognized Az immediately.
“Azriel, it’s good to see you.” The burly white haired man boomed. “Is this your lovely mate that I’ve heard so much about? I heard that your High Lord and High Lady are quite smitten with her.”
Az greeted the male politely, “Hello Klaus, yes, this would indeed be the exquisite Y/N.”
I smiled as the male shook my hand. “A pleasure to meet you Y/N. Did Azriel tell you what you’re here for today?”
I rolled my eyes tossing a mock glare at Azriel. “No, this Spymaster seems to be quite full of secrets.”
The male laughed, a loud jovial sound. “Let’s not waste time then! Come and see my pride and joy.”
I stepped into the building and my eyes filled with wonder. What was already a massive building outside was truly enormous inside, clearly some kind of glamour hid the true size from onlookers. What really caught my eye, however, were the acres upon acres of training, feeding, and sleeping quarters, along with the armory - none of it on the ground level designed to house or clothe fae, but for animals. Throughout the building were soldiers and animals training side my side, working in unison. White foxes, antlered deer, and there…. Toward the back of the building, my heart skipped a beat, giant white bears! Some wearing armor, some lazily lounging along indoor pools, trainers even brushed the creatures to which they seemed to enjoy the feeling of bristles running through their thick fur.
Klaus spent hours walking us through the grounds of the facility. I teared up when given the opportunity to brush one of the bears. I felt like a child next to such a large creature. I was aware of the danger they posed, but how could anyone resist the opportunity to spend time with a creature with cute little ears like that. They couldn’t be THAT much of a threat to me…. so long as I wasn’t an enemy. The bear seemed to agree as it tilted its head toward me in a pleading manner, as if to say: “Ah yes, right there. Scratch behind my ear just there. That’s the spot.”
It turned out that Klaus was the head of the Winter Court’s animal forces. A highly revered position in their armies, essentially a step below Cassian’s rank in the Night Court. When we were leaving, Klaus told me to come back anytime, kissing my hand in parting. Azriel instinctively sidled himself closer to me, if Klaus noticed, he didn’t show it.
Fae mates. So territorial.
~~~~~~~
After our tour of the training facility, Azriel took us on a reindeer drawn sleigh ride through the remainder of castle grounds. We cozied up together under a blanket, sipping hot cocoa and taking in the beauty of the court.
It turned out that Mor pulled strings with Viviane as such tours were a rare privilege. I teared up yet again, thinking of the effort my mate and best friend put into making this Winter Solstice so special.
I was sure to thank Azriel thoroughly that night. Five times to be exact.
~~~~~~~
The next morning came too quickly, Azriel and I refusing to leave the bed until our stomachs grumbled in unison.
We headed to the Solstice Market for the remainder of our gift shopping. I found a gorgeous bracelet for Amren, the gems mined from a frozen over cave in the heart of the Winter Court. For Feyre, I purchased paints with unique pigments inspired by the terrain of the court. I continued checking names off of my gift list, until all that was left was Mor.
It may have been strange, but what were boundaries between two best friends - I was able to acquire a similar set of lingerie to the one Azriel had purchased for me in a shade of red that would perfectly compliment her features. Azriel rolled his eyes at me in amusement.
I’d also found a particularly smutty sapphic novel for her thanks to the recommendation of a friendly shopkeeper - I picked up a copy for myself too.
Azriel and I then strolled to the wine vendors - this was where the trip took quite a turn.
I bought several bottles of the mulled wine Mor adored along with boxes of decadent chocolates. The vendor was kind, and rather chatty. We talked for twenty minutes or so and were about to leave when he offered us complimentary glass mugs of the spiced wine to warm us on our walk back toward the lodge. Az quickly declined…. For both of us. I playfully huffed stating that I had no objections to such a kind offer. Azriel’s expression grew concerned as he once again waved off the offer.
The male working at the stand watched as I stood disregarding Az’s strange objection. I kept my hand held out waving Azriel off with the other. The vendor clearly knew better than to deny a lady who was clear about what she wanted and handed over the glass.
Azriel then growled. GROWLED.
I turned around to walk away, Az on my tail. I lifted the glass to take a sip when one of his shadows, not just any shadow, my FAVORITE one - restrained my wrist.
Little traitor.
“What the hell, Az!?” I asked. Quietly enough to not cause a scene but loudly enough to convey my frustration toward him. He paused for a moment - a rare show of conflict troubled his face. “We…. We need to talk.” he said and winnowed us straight back to the lodge.
~~~~~~~
Upon arrival, I stormed into the lodge. “Do you think I have a drinking problem or something? What is it, Az? It’s so unlike you to act like this. First the territorial bullshit when Klaus kissed my hand, now taking away my choice in what I want to drink?” My traitorous body let tears slip.
Az said nothing. He stared at me for a moment, before walking up to me and grasping me into his arms, his warm embrace enveloping me. I wanted to pull away but couldn’t. His scent and warmth were intoxicating, placating me.
He kissed the top of my head, his arms still embracing behind me and moving upward, brushing his fingers through my hair before pulling back. His arms released as he took my face in his hands, hazel eyes filled with an emotion I’d never seen before.
“Baby.” He got out. Voice cracking.
“Yes? What?”
“Baby.” His eyes rimmed with tears.
“What Az? What is it? Just tell me.”
His face cracked into a smile full of wonder, the tears spilling. “You’re pregnant.”
Oh?
Oh!
“Ohhhhhh.” I managed to get out. Everything clicking into place. The emotions, the random bouts of nausea, fatigue, the mild aches in my body…the constant need to have Azriel buried inside of me.
“Gods.” I muttered next. “This explains so much! How did you figure it out? WHEN did you figure it out?”
Azriel maintained his composure, resting a hand on each of my arms while running his thumbs soothingly up and down them. “I think my body knew first. I was waking up with my wings around you protectively - normally that only happens intentionally but this time it was involuntary. And then, you started showing signs similar to those when you’re approaching your cycle but… it’s been less than two months since the last one. I couldn’t sense the shift in your scent yet but something deep within me kept telling me to observe.”
Running a hand through his hair, he continued: “Then we came here and it felt like the mating bond snapped into place all over again. The night that we were laying in bed and I was tracing my fingers along your body… your curves felt just slightly more enticing - I don’t… I don’t know how to explain it, but when I ran my fingers to your breasts they were so full, so heavy. Initially I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in trying to stave off my arousal, to allow you to rest but then it hit me. The softest hint of rose. The same scent Rhys described when Feyre…”
I cut him off. “The look, the one you gave me of wonder and awe - that’s when it hit you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Az replied. “Are you upset?”
“Upset? No! Never! Azriel,” I choked out. “This life with you is the most incredible gift. Having you as my mate, our chosen family, and now this life growing inside of me - this beautiful life created of the love you’ve so wholeheartedly given me. It’s so much more than I could have ever dreamed of.”
Words evaded Azriel as he embraced me, sobs wracking his body- pure joy and unconditional love flooded from him through me. As his sobs settled he pulled back to look at me, eyes filled with promise. “I swear to love and protect the two of you until the end of time. My heart was already wholly yours but now, somehow it’s been filled so much more than I knew possible. Our child will know only love from us. A beacon of hope shining from the darkness of our own childhoods.”
I looked up to him, reciprocating the feelings of joy and love through our bond.
“I love you.” I vowed.
“Oh baby” he kissed my lips.
“Oh baby” he knelt down to kiss my still flat abdomen.
“Happy Solstice. I love you.”
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