#Feel free to respond if you'd like!

[blackbutlerjumbo]

"Well now, didn't realize I was bein' tailed. 'Ow may I assist ya?"

He adjusted his tie and bowed. That was at least how the proper folk did it, yes?

@blxndebutlering

[jupiterstupiter]

They're cringe and they are free

[okkanai]

" don't worry, you're my friend — i would never blow you up ! " a wide smile, his version of sincerity in his tone as he continues. " well . . . not intentionally at least, hehe. " / @incandescentia.

[brokenmagxc]

@agloryofuniicorns / starter call.

DARK EYES PIERCE through a veil of smoke, cutting through the gray as a hot knife would against chilled butter: smooth until it melts upon a heated blade ( sticky and tenacious ). he squints in the dimness of the shop lights. a black jacket hides the other's features well, but the way this new body meanders through the aisles does not go unnoticed. like a foreign germ, pushed and pulled between the immune system, blaring sirens in the back of the mind. a sickness, a plague. or was it just a small cold festering, trivial and short-lived.

“ you lost ?? ” his voice is quiet but stern, a healthy amount of suspicion dripping like venom on extended fangs. he raises his head from behind the counter, tucking the weapon in his hands under the granite, hiding it from view. he can't escape the way the smell of gunpowder clings to deep brunette hair, smudging slightly against the pale skin of his cheek, but he gives the impression that the other is NOT WELCOME to be privy to any knowledge outside of his telling features ( annoyance is a mask of stone upon his face, locking away danger like some FORBIDDEN SECRET ). the shop has not seen a quiet day as of late and the rowdiness begs for tough skin, depraved of rest and agitated. he really doesn't want to show up to class with bruises ( he knows iwai will kill him if he the school calls, again, and he will be exiled from the shop to babysit instead ).

“ isn't it a little late to be snooping around like some blind mole ?? ”

[theriverdalereviewer]

everyone jumping to team kamala we will never experience true freedom in this country

[howthesleeplesswander]

“Stay down, Childe.” Percy was tempted to add a “please” in there. Against his pride, and definitely against his character, or maybe just his image in the violent blue eyes staring up at him now— He’d sooner be caught dead than begging, but it took until this second to really feel the effects of their battle. Blinding and deafening adrenaline petered away just enough to allow a few aches to seep through: a faint tremor in his legs, a burning in his lungs while he chased his breath . . . Percy knew Childe was no pushover. Distantly, he had been aware of a few attacks hitting their mark. Something dull but fresh gnawed at his waist: warm, wet, stinging with every inhale—

If the harbinger kept pushing this—and Archons knew he would—Percy would meet him halfway, sure. But how long could he go before crumpling to his own knees . . . ?

As long as I have to, he told himself. No more questions.

He flexed his fingers, and the tendrils of water encircling Childe’s wrists, pinning his arms behind his back, tightened into something solid enough to pass for rope, yanked him down further into that kneel. In Percy’s other hand, Riptide was aimed readily at an exposed throat; he pressed it just close enough to draw a thin line of red as he moved a single step in. “I’m not gonna tell you again.”

// (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ from @tidaltow, obviously~ maaaaaybe a less friendly lil duel? Childe’s getting up to shit and percy’s just you have been stopped ✋

Answered! || @tidaltow

He hadn't expected this to be so thrilling.

The kid was tougher than he looked; Childe would give him that much. Water clashed in relentless, vicious blows, dappling the grass around them with droplets that would have resembled the early morning dew, if not for the occasional splatters of crimson.

It was hard to say how long they'd been at it, but their battle finally came to a pause thanks to the clever little trap now binding Childe's arms. Though his limbs were restricted, it had the opposite effect on the fire in his veins: surging hotter, howling louder. The wildness in his eyes never faltered.

"You don't really think this is over, do you?" the Harbinger taunted, full of maniacal glee even as he felt a prick at his throat and a heated drip of blood ooze down towards his collar. His grin cleaved wider. "Tell you what: I'll give you to the count of three. By then, you'd better give your best shot at cutting me down...or run while you have the chance."

For Childe to show even a shred of mercy was a rarity—no, more like a miracle. But there was something about this kid that made the Harbinger want to give him a fighting chance. Sure, he looked unassuming, but there was a distinct brutality behind his strikes, a spark of something vicious behind wide, blue eyes. Something that reminded Childe of himself.

"I'd take the offer, one way or the other." He inclined his chin, fearlessly edging delicate skin against the other's blade in a clear challenge. "Wait too long, and it'll be too late to back down."

As he spoke, a new color joined the oceanic glow of his Vision: purple spilled from within his coat, a malicious prelude of the consequences should Percy refuse.

"One..." Black pigment crept over his clothes, like snakes slithering over the fabric until the darker shade took over.

"Two..." Static electricity filled the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck, shocks prickling in the water surrounding his wrists.

In the bated breath before the trigger, Childe stared unblinking at his opponent. Expectant. Eager.

The tension stretched just long enough to give the kid one last chance. Then—

"Three!"

A burst of wicked purple illuminated the battlefield as lightning arced across Childe's body. Electro gathered at his wrists—burning red, swollen rings on his skin that didn't even register through the adrenaline—until the shackles broke with a thunderous crack. In an instant, his spear materialized in hand, and he swept the blade at Percy's legs as he rolled back onto his feet. "Come on, then!" he shouted in delight. "I'll teach you not to interfere!"

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

Okay, there's a game that I like to play with the people I know, and I'm in the mood now...

It's called (very creatively) the "random questions game" and it is pretty self-explanatory, I just ask the random questions that come to mind.

The questions can be weird, normal, specific, general, really anything... And you can respond, choose not to respond, or respond and counter with your own question

So mutuals, prepare yourselves...

[blxxditout]

Is it odd that the first place he thought to go to when the world ended, was home? He hasn't spoken to his mother in years, and he's sure that his father won't even look at him. Not that he cares, why would he care? Sid can't bother to remember what were the last words exchanged between them before he set out to live on his own. Jun, on the other hand, was whom he was far more concerned with. His twin had gone off to become something, was well known and liked by all. When he'd left, he thought he'd be abandoned too, never being anything more than a fleeting thought of the past they had.

Over the phone, he sounded offended by that. His brother had told him everything that had happened in the last couple of years, between their parents and between his life. He'd told him how much he wished that he could've been there to see it all. Sid wished he was there now. Instead of stewing in his contempt at the world, he'd have been right on the horizon, looking out with his twin. That might not be possible now as he stares at the rubble.

A root struck the house at an odd angle, pushing it up diagonally. It kind of looked slanted, like the house was leaning on a wall that wasn't there. If it was destroyed now, he's sure that the whole thing would collapse. There shouldn't be anyone inside, he thinks, his parents are smart enough to know when to evacuate. His brother wouldn't be here either, he was out of state to go play ball in the big leagues. Knowing that, he didn't expect to find any brittle corpses in the wake of where he used to live. He needed shelter, and what better place to go than one's own childhood home.

Trudging up past the dusty steps, he held a hand to his nose, not eager to breathe any of it in as he pushed past the door. Surprisingly, it didn't require much work, thanks to the root of that demon tree coming up as it did. Should he be thankful for it? Looking around, he can see that there isn't a lot that's changed. Mom always had that rule of hers: if it isn't broken don't fix it. Dad was more materialistic than her anyhow, but she didn't let him fix much even if it was broken. His hand ghosts along the wall, feeling the old wallpaper beneath the pads of his fingers.

The nostalgia makes his heart churn. When him and Jun were kids, they'd take their crayons and color along the wall, hoping to add life to the dull and bland decor. Mom got so mad her whole face turned red. It brings a smile to his face as he walks past the hallway and into the living room. That old beige couch is still there, albeit a lot dirtier than he remembers. He looks up, and sure enough, it's where the Qliphoth root strikes the house. He should probably get to that, but he's too busy with exploring the old, trodden down home. Sid heads up the stairs, placing a hand on the wooden banister as he ascends.

It smells like mildew and copper, and he can see that the root keeps going up. From that direction... the guest room is blocked off. A shame, the bed in there was really nice. Nicer than the bunk beds that him and Jun slept on anyhow. When they'd have fights, Jun would leave him to go sleep in there, since he was on the top bunk. When he reached the top of the stairs, the stench was only strengthened. It wouldn't have stuck out to him as much as it would have if he didn't recognize the distinct tang in it.

That's blood.

He knows, because he's smelt it before. He woke up in it, almost as if it had been branded on his brain. Their room was collapsed, the ceiling still holding on tight as he went straight for the door. It's not mom, nor dad. And it can't be Jun. Sid knows that, but he still hesitates on opening the door. He doesn't know if he wants to see it, if he wants to glimpse at whatever it is that's on the other side.

The door doesn't open when he tries to push it open, thinking he could get it over with in one go. To enter, he's going to have to use more force. Taking a step back, he rams into it, but it doesn't break. Alright, one more time. He takes another step back, lowering his shoulder to use to try and force it open. There's something in front of the door, but maybe, just maybe he can push it open if he's strong enough. Try harder. Sid grunts with the effort, gripping the knob hard and pushing past the door in his way. He can hear the drawer drag on the carpet as he inches in.

Whoever is here was smart to barricade the door with that, especially if they're injured. Although, he's worried when he doesn't hear a response from the alleged person on the other side.

"Hello? I'm not a monster so don't--", he starts, but stops when he catches a glimpse of a hand on his brother's bed. A pale red.

"Hm...", he opens it enough to slip in to see the harvested remains. It was freaky seeing that through the city, but even worse to know that it was in his own (old)home.

There was someone who seemed to be trying to get some rest, or maybe making a prayer in their final moments. Glancing off to the side he could see that another root had split off from the other one and began to worm its way through his room. The blood has dried and festered, and the hole in the wall brings a breeze that blows on the husk. The poor bastard was withering away here, right on Jun's bed. He walked around it, and sat down on the other side.

"I'm sorry that this had to be your grave", he said, speaking to the dead. His hands folded together as he rested on his knees, looking at the burrowed root. The demons seemed to have attacked this person, and they tried to hide it out in here, but the root must've got to them. But something isn't right.

That's kind of an odd position to die in. Leaning over the bed like that. It looks more like they're slumped over, even while kneeling. Sid glances at the harvested human once more, lowering his gaze to see the smaller body underneath it. Oh... his breath catches as he realizes it now. The little arms wrapped around the trunk of the body while the parent tried to protect them. In their final moments, what did they think was happening?

His hands tighten in their hold of each other, his eyes straining hard around the small hands trying to hold onto the other body. Gone. The weight of his own makes the hand crumble, and break. Reacting quickly, he rises to try and catch it, but it's already disintegrating. The arm starts to go too, becoming a fine powder as the child's body starts to go too. Clumsily he starts to fret over them, but the most he can do now is back away to preserve what was left behind.

Idiot.

He stares at the mess he's made for a second longer, before deciding that he doesn't want to be here at all.

[4mage]

@starbeambully / starter call.

"alright ... big important question for you." marley asks, a bit of a playful smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "coffee or tea ?? like ... which one do you like more ??" they've been thinking about expanding their tea menu at the shop, so the question has been on their mind.

[collarus]

♡ for a starter.

[first-frost-fallen-snow]

/* For Raye XD */

Memories of Sorrow

《 I must admit, Raye has the least interesting backstory of all of my characters lmaoo so here's his breakup with Naomi. This got long, so I'm putting a cut 》

Raye didn't know how it happened. One minute he was relaxing at home, handing Ed a cup of tea, the next he was thrust into the worst night of his life. He wasn't sure what caused this - he didn't even realize his hand had brushed Ed's when passing the cup. Yet here he was, standing dully in his apartment.

He'd just come home from following that Yagami kid. Something was off, Naomi was turned towards the window, her back to him.

"I'm home-!" he called from the front door, announcing his presence to her while trying to subtly prompt her to greet him. She didn't react at all. Usually, she'd at least get some tea for him, sometimes she'd make dinner if he was out late enough. But today there was nothing.

"Hey, what's-... what's wrong..?" Raye set his things down, coming to her side and taking her hand.

"Raye-.." she started, but shut her mouth and sighed. Her eyes met his as she slowly pulled her hand away.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

Raye knit his brows together, momentarily glancing out the window as if to check for something that had been bothering her.

"I know that, and I love you, too." He murmured, once again taking her hand. His grasp was gentle and loose, in case she pulled away again.

"Naomi, what's going on..?"

Naomi remained silent as she turned towards the window again, her expression mournful, as if she'd lost someone dear to her. Were her parents ill? Something was wrong here, but Raye couldn't understand what.

The next words out of her mouth hit him harder than anything he'd ever heard.

She shifted away from him, unable to look him in the eye, as she said, "I think we should call off the wedding."

"What? No-!" Raye couldn't stop his quick reaction, part of him wished he would've just stood there in silence and taken it. He looked pathetic.

"Naomi, what are you talking about? We're happy here, I moved here to meet your parents for their blessing I-... you- we planned to have kids, remember? You can't just throw that all away-.." he was desperate. Looking back, it wasn't his proudest moment.

"I know, Raye." Her tone was cold, freezing Raye where he stood.

"But that was before all of this. The Kira case it-.. I can't just sit by while you risk your life for this, and I can't do anything about it because I stopped taking cases so we could have a family."

"We can talk about this.." he pleaded, reaching out to her.

"I tried talking to you about it, but you didn't listen." She finally turned to him, only to step away from him.

"I was- I'm sorry, I thought- I was trying to help ease your mind!" He gestured with his hands as he spoke, but never raised them above waist level. He didn't want her to think he'd hit her, he knew what kind of men she dated before.

"Please, we can talk about this-.."

"Raye, I'm not going to be happy being your wife. As much as I love you, I can't do this anymore." She was the one to take Raye's hands this time, giving them a gentle squeeze. She still couldn't look him in the eye. He was partially glad she didn't. There were few times Raye had ever cried in his life, this was the only time he was utterly inconsolable. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Please..." was all he could muster. With slow and gentle movements, Naomi cupped Raye's cheek. Closing her eyes, she planted a soft kiss on his lips as her thumb wiped his tears away.

Once the kiss was broken, she was gone. She left without another word. All Raye could do was stand where she'd left him, clasping the engagement ring she handed back to him as he wept. He crumpled down like a coat, bringing his knees to his chest and his hands into his hair.

[fumiliar]

self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.

your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.

"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.

kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.

"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.

"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.

"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.

"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"

"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.

"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.

"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.

"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.

"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.

"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.

"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.

restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.

"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.

"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.

"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.

"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.

"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.

"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.

"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.

"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.

"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."

kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.

"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[yagottaworkhard]

💎

misc action memes ;; accepting!

to try to steal something from your muse .

While Velvet didn't particularly have a deep connection with the perfume bottle she was given upon entering Spirale - it was still her's, and her's alone. After a quick pat down in an attempt to find it and maybe spray something on herself, she realizes it's not on her, but rather, it's in the hands of another person who's appears to be quickly trying to get away from her.

"Wh-- Hey!"

Without wasting another second, Velvet crouches down and picks up a rock from the ground, tossing it with all her might in the direction of the thief.

"Give that back!"

[skywalkerslvt]

Rough Ride (so rough)

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: What happens when you have to sit on Leon's lap for a very long and bumpy car ride? Leon's pants get soaked 😍

❥CW: 18+, smut, sub!leon, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, crying kink, semi-public sex, sorta non-con at first? but both parties are consenting, 1.6k words

❥a/n: can you guys tell how much I like dry humping from the amount of times it shows up in all my fics? anyways RE2 Leon is so subby i need to make him cry so I wrote this. Also my requests are open if any of u leon sluts wanna request something 👀 Hope you guys enjoy! <3 pics are from pinterest

Leon Kennedy was utterly fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He was approximately one hour into the grand camping trip that your shared group of friends had planned, and it was already off to a bumpy start.

It started with the excessive amount of luggage you and Claire had decided to pack. The trunk was bursting at the seams, and the backseat was already crammed with more than it could reasonably hold, leaving the driver seat, the passenger seat, and a single seat in the back free for its intended use.

With Chris driving and Claire staking her claim on the passenger seat, that left you and Leon with the single seat to share.

And when you whispered a seductive “I guess we’ll have to make do,” with a mischievous glint in your eye, Leon knew he was done for.

Before he could respond, he was shoved into the car, barely even registering that you were manoeuvring yourself into his lap, carefully trying to find a comfortable position.

At first, Leon was awkward. It wasn’t every day that the girl he had a massive crush on was situated on his lap, and especially not for a 2 hour long drive like this one. But as you leaned against him and whispered a soft “Relax,” he eventually settled in, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder.

The first hour was fine, enjoyable even. Leon had managed to stave off a massive boner, and everyone had been happy despite the luggage situation. But issues started to arise as Chris turned the car onto a bumpy gravel path in the woods.

“We’re gonna be on this trail for about an hour and then we'll be at our camping spot. It might get a bit bumpy,” Chris muttered quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister who had dozed off against the window.

As the car drove deeper into the forest, the road became more uneven, causing you to bounce slightly in Leon’s lap. His cock started to twitch, the boner he managed to avoid coming to as all his attention was focused on that single point where your ass was softly bouncing on his cock.

Leon was flushed head to toe, his teeth worrying his lower lip as the rate of his breathing increased. His cock was now fully hard and leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and by some miracle, you hadn't noticed. Needing to feel more friction, he pushed his hips up slightly, softly grinding his hard dick against your ass, playing it off as shifting to a more comfortable position. He felt like such a pervert, getting off against your ass while you were completely oblivious, but the weight of you on top of him felt too good to stop.

He had managed not to make a sound, harshly biting down against his surely bruised lip any time he felt like moaning, but when Chris hit a particularly hard bump, causing you to bounce harshly back into his cock, he let out a barely audible whimper, right against your neck.

Leon stiffened, panicking as he was sure he got caught. You were going to realize what he had been doing, and you'd think he was a disgusting pervert, never wanting to see him again.

But as you turned your head slightly, concern etched on your features, and asked him if he was okay, Leon went lax with relief. You didn’t know.

“Y-yeah- Sorry I was just startled by the bump,” he stammered out.

You smiled softly, seemingly unaware of the turmoil raging inside him. “It's okay. These roads are pretty rough. Just hold onto me if you need to, okay?”

Leon swallowed hard, nodding. “Sure, thanks.” You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then turned back around and shifted your hips, moving in a more comfortable position. Leon’s hold around your waist tightened and his dick twitched at the feeling of you moving against him.

The car continued to jostle along the uneven path, each bump sending another wave of sensation through Leon’s body. He tried to focus on anything else–the trees whipping past outside, the sound of Chris humming along to the radio, the soft snores of Claire asleep in the front–but his mind kept coming back to the warmth and pressure of you against his twitching cock.

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Leon shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would ease his arousal. It was useless. Every movement, every slight adjustment only heightened the friction, the pressing of your body against him his own personal torture.

Minutes felt like hours as the car bumped along the trail, each jolt a reminder of the situation Leon found himself in. To make matters worse, you began shifting, unknowingly pushing your ass against his cock continuously, and Leon couldn't help himself. He just had to cum, so he began grinding against you again, timing his thrusts with your shifting.

He closed his eyes as his thrusts got sloppier, the building heat in his gut reaching its peak. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, and he was careless with his sounds, his heavy breathing against your neck becoming louder and louder.

Leon's body tensed, and with a muffled groan, he came, his cock twitching as he spilled into his pants. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the car continued to jostle along the path, your ass still bouncing in his lap, overstimulating his already sensitive cock.

His breathing grew ragged, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the friction becoming unbearable, and he bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his whimpers.

Despite the overstimulation, the continued friction of your ass bouncing against him caused his cock to twitch and harden once more, much to his confusion and frustration. The sensations were too much to handle; his body was a mess of sensitivity and arousal, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to spill down his cheeks.

Leon's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the overstimulation blending into a desperate need for more. His hips involuntarily thrust upward, seeking more friction, even though it was torturous. Each bounce of your ass pushed him closer to the edge again, and he couldn't understand how he could be this turned on despite having just cum.

Minutes felt like hours, and Leon's body was on the brink of collapse. The continued friction, combined with his heightened sensitivity, pushed him to the edge once more. He tried to stay silent, but soft whimpers escaped his lips, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you, desperate and needy.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you turned your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips.

The realization hit him like a freight train—you knew. You had known all along. Your smirk widened as you watched him, your eyes dark with arousal.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "You've been such a good boy, Leon."

Leon's breath hitched, his body trembling as your words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. He was overwhelmed, his senses on overdrive as you licked the tears from his face, your tongue tracing a path along his cheek.

Without warning, you began grinding against him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated cock. Leon's hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to hold on.

"You like this, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. "Getting hard again so soon after cumming. Such a needy boy."

Leon could only nod, his voice failing him as you continued to grind against him, each movement sending him spiraling further into a state of desperate arousal. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

Your pace quickened, and Leon's breath came in short, ragged gasps. Each grind of your hips sent jolts of pleasure through his overstimulated body, and he clung to you as if you were his lifeline. His tears mingled with sweat, his entire world narrowing down to the intoxicating friction and your teasing whispers in his ear.

With a final, deliberate roll of your hips, you sent him over the edge again. Leon's body convulsed, his cries muffled against your shoulder as he came for the second time, his cock throbbing and spilling more cum into his already-soaked pants. His tears of overstimulation turned to tears of overwhelming pleasure, his entire being consumed by the raw, intense sensations. You held him tightly, a satisfied smirk on your lips as you licked away his tears, savoring the sweet taste of his submission.

As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.

Leaning in close, you kissed him tenderly, a silent promise of many more games to come. In that moment, Leon knew he was utterly and completely yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Chris hadn't even fully parked before Leon threw you off his lap and bolted for the door. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and he mumbled a halfhearted excuse about needing to use the washroom, doing his best to conceal the completely soaked front of his pants. As he disappeared inside, you couldn't help but laugh softly, the image of his flustered expression etched in your mind. You exchanged a knowing glance with Claire, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling innocently, you shrugged, already anticipating the next opportunity to tease Leon further.

[liiixsturniolos]

"Pretty..little..noises.."

in which... rapper!chris has a little kink.. for singer!readers moans, wanting to add them into the background of his songs, he has to make you moan just how he wants too.

warnings!: smut (p in v unprotected.. wrap it b4 ya tap it guys!), moaning kink.

Chris always loved your voice, especially when you sang, often even begging you to sing him to sleep. He even put you on his songs, the fans' favourite duo, he claimed your voice was angelic. But more than that, his bigger obsession, the sound of your beautiful, sweet moans, he has a thing for it, I guess you could say. You'd tease him with it too, moaning into his ear in a public place and watching a tent grow up in his pants just from a quiet whisper...

He loved the whines and whimpers that would flow out of your mouth when he fucked you. It was his favourite part of it, the uncontrollable melodies that spewed out of your gorgeous mouth. He took pride in knowing he made you feel like that and wished he could show everyone, and maybe he could...

An idea sprung into his head one night, with you led next to him. He tapped his fingers onto your shoulder to wake you up, "what..?" You groaned awake. "I have an idea.." he mumbles cautiously, explaining his perverted little plan to film a sex tape, in which he'd use your moans in his newest song.

You accept happily, loving the concept of this slightly insane idea, letting Chris take off your panties, set up his phone beside you and start a voice recording.

"kay baby, lemme' hear those pretty little noises," he mutters, lining himself up with your gap, sliding slowly inside of your warm walls. You start to whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He pumps himself inside of you, your moans getting raspier and louder. "Yes-f-fuck baby moan f'me." He tells you.

Speeding up his pace, he thrusts into you ruthlessly, aiming to make you moan as loud and pornographically as he could, which you do, letting out a high pitched moan, rolling back your eyes and shouting his name, as you come to your high "fu-fuckkk c-hris.." you stutter out, both of your simultaneous releases pouring out from you suddenly.

"Perfect, darling." He says, pulling out of your leaking pussy, and stopping the audio recording, "You did so good baby." He tells you with a slightly smirky smile.

Weeks later as his new song drops, fans notice the faint ad-lib noises playing in the back of his rap verse, and question it on instagram live... to which he responds with a soft giggle, and pulls his hands around your waist, sitting you onto his lap.

thanks for reading darlings! consider interacting, so I can keep posting more of these! Feel free to ask to join my taglist too! <𝟑

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava