#implied lamp

[candied-peach]

merry christmas! ♡

[image description: marker art of a christmas tree with a yellow star on top, silver tinsel, and a red and white mat around the bottom, there are ornaments with each side's color, the orange one is on the floor, there is also a white coffee cup with zzz printed on it, representing remy, and a pink and white candy cane in the coffee cup, representing emile.

on the right of the christmas tree is virgil sanders, he has green eyes and purple and brown hair, he's wearing a red and green striped cone-shaped hat, a gold crown earring, a pink choker with a light blue heart on it, an off-the-shoulder pink and black striped fuzzy sweater, purple tank top strap showing underneath it, and a pastel purple and pink plaid skirt, with yellow-star-patterned blue socks]

[cofe-doodles]

Meet And Tremble-At-Your-Knees

September 1, 1989. Dear Diary,

I wouldn’t say I'm stupid.

I have mathematics and chemistry as my best subjects, I'm part of an honors class, and I consistently get praises for my sharp wit in English class. So, no, I'm not stupid.

But would a smart person do this?

“This is excellent forgery.”

Virgil swallowed his anxiety as Roman eyed him up and down before a smirk settled on his face. He didn’t realize that the devil could even smile.

“Who are you?” Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?

“Virgil- Sawyer,” Virgil replied with a hiccup, extending his hand for Roman to shake but the other didn’t acknowledge it. His smirk became bigger. Virgil lowered his hand, coughing out, “I crave a boon.”

Roman looked at the mirror, then to Patton and Logan who were also eyeing Virgil up and down. Both had a look that Virgil couldn’t decipher but he knew they were judging. “What boon?”

Okay, Virgil, this is your chance. “Let me sit at your table, at lunch. Just on, no talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone.” Like the devil’s choir, the three laughed simultaneously. Roman eyed him intently, pearly whites shining as he laughed softly. Virgil couldn’t stop the tint in his cheeks, he wouldn’t let himself be embarrassed again. He added, “But before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes.”

The three paused.

“Do you do prescriptions?” Logan was the one who spoke. Virgil had never noticed how deep and rough Logan’s voice was, like he wasn’t used to talking.

“Not now, Logan.” Roman dismissed him with an annoyed look behind his eyes.

Ah, that’s why. Virgil didn’t bother to mention that he could, indeed, write prescriptions.

Logan sighed but nodded. “Okay”

“You,” Roman said with a taunt and his eyes sparkling with what Virgil could only assume was mischief. “For a ‘nobody’, you’re pretty good looking.”

“Thank you?” Virgil couldn’t deny that it made his heart beat faster. It wasn’t everyday the King of Westerberg High would compliment someone.

Roman smirked. "Doesn’t he have a handsome face?" He asked Patton and Logan.

“He does.” Patton spoke, going towards Virgil and pushing his body to face the mirror. Patton cupped his jaw. “If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves,” the way it was said was nonchalant; Virgil was slightly afraid of Patton. But all he did was smile brightly at Virgil as he continued, “That’s very important.”

“Though, your sense of fashion is atrocious.” Logan butt in, using his index and thumb to raise a bit of fabric on Virgil’s gray hoodie.

“That can be fixed.” Roman smiled at his reflection in the mirror. “And you know what, Vixen, I think this will be the start of something beautiful.”

Virgil’s cheeks heated at that.

“But before that,” Roman went behind him, pushing Virgil’s hair to the side. He rested his chin on Virgil’s shoulder causing Virgil to tense up. Roman smirked at the reaction, hugging Virgil from behind. “You need some lip gloss, your lips are all chapped.” Roman said with a pout, a hand coming up to swipe at Virgil’s bottom lip. “I would suggest some blush but I think we got that covered.”

Virgil’s lips pierced in a line, his face heating up in a crimson blush.

“A change of clothes also.” Roman continued.

“A- After class?”

The three laughed again.

“Now, silly.” Patton teased like a parent to a child.

September 2, 1989. Dear Diary,

I got grounded for skipping school. But I have cool clothes now.

Virgil walked down the hallway with his anxiety hugging him tightly. Everyone was staring at him like he was the new kid again. But this time, instead of weirded out expressions, everyone had a look of shock and awe. Yesterday, his new friends bought him clothes that made him look posh and clean. His blond hair was actually trimmed and styled well. His face was more visible now with his bangs being shorter. He walked faster than usual, going to the lunch area with excitement for once.

“Hey, guys,” Virgil greeted as he sat down on the lunch table. He was opposite to Roman, beside Patton who smiled at him brightly.

Roman smirked at him, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. “Logan, switch seats with Virgil.”

Logan got up immediately. Virgil was a bit hesitant to move but did so to not keep Logan standing.

“Virgil,” Roman started, putting a hand on Virgil’s back. Virgil tensed up, sitting straight. Roman smiled at that, facing Virgil. “If you want to keep on sitting with us, you have to do one little thing for moi.”

Virgil caught a grin on both Logan and Patton’s faces.

“What is it?”

Roman snapped his fingers. “Paper.”

Logan reached for his pocket and brought a piece of paper out, he handed it to Virgil. “Forge something for us.”

Virgil looked at Logan before looking at Roman.

“Would you mind?”

“No, not really.”

“Good.” Roman’s smile widened. “I need a forgery in Pryce Hudson’s handwriting.”

“If I may ask, for what-?”

“Hi, Honey; I’ve been watching you, thinking about us in the old days. I hope you can come to my homecoming party this weekend. I miss you, Pryce. Oh, put an ‘XO’ after the signature.” Roman said, sensually speaking. Virgil was a bit confused but he wrote it nonetheless.

“What’s this for?”

“Pryce used to hang out with Anton in kindergarten.” Roman said with a disgusted look in his face.

“Real close,” Patton giggled with a suggestive eye roll.

“Too close.” Logan added. “They kissed on the kickball field.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right! I forgot about that. Pryce kissed Anton.” Patton spoke with a fake cheery smile. “It was disgusting.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” Virgil asked with an awkward chortle.

“Pryce still likes him and Anton’s a nobody,” Roman said in a duh tone. “So I’m planning to divide them. Our family can’t date nobodies.”

He took the note from Virgil as he still tried to process what they said. If that was the case, why were they bringing up the past?

“This is perfect, Virgil, thank you,” Roman praised him. “Pryce!”

Virgil flinched at the shout. He watched as Pryce Hudson walked over at their table. He looked kinda like Roman.

“What cuz?”

Ah, they were cousins.

“Do me a favor and be a good cousin and give this to Anton for me, hm?”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “What? No!”

Pryce looked at his cousin, eyebrow raised. “Since when do you talk to him?” Pryce started to unfold it but Virgil took the note from him. Pryce furrowed his eyebrows. “Give that back, loser.”

“Virgil.” Roman raised an eyebrow at him, waving Pryce away. He did, but not before glaring at Virgil.

“I’m not doing this.” Virgil shook his head. “You may like to ruin other people’s lives but personally, I’m not that apathetic. And I will not have this on my conscience.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Are we going to have a problem?”

Virgil flinched. “I didn’t mean-”

“You got the balls to say that to me, hm? We don’t do this everyday, why are you pulling on my dick?”

Roman stood up, grabbing Virgil’s chin in the process.

“Normally, I’d shame you in front of everybody right here, right now. But because I’m nice,” he put emphasis on the word ‘nice.’ “I’ll give you advice, so listen.”

Roman sat on the table, using the heel of his boot to push Virgil. With that, everyone noticed their table even more so than usual.

“If you want to keep being friends with us, you have to roll with us.” Roman smirked. “We’re rich, we’re hot, we’re everything other people are not. Oh, that’s a good one, put it in my slam poetry notebook, Logan.”

“Affirmative.”

“Anyways. If you don’t have the balls, go back to being a nobody.” Roman spoke in a childish manner. “Or, keep up with us and we’ll have you living the life you always wanted to have.”

“And what life may that be?” Virgil wanted to sound harsh but he just sounded unsure.

“A life of luxury.” Logan spoke, standing up and sitting beside Virgil who tensed under the stoic expression but his glasses hid that look of pride.

“A life on a silver platter.” Patton chirped, going to the other side of Virgil and clinging on his arm.

“A life where you have me.” Roman smirked, bending down to Virgil’s level and cupping his jaw. “A life of joy, my dear. So, say goodbye to loser Virgil, and say hello to the brand new version of yourself.”

Virgil stared up at Roman. “Okay.”

“Great!” Roman laughed. “Let’s go tear up someone’s lawn. Forge us an excuse slip, Virgil.”

“Sure but, uh, I have an important test after lunch so I’ll pass.” A lie.

Roman groaned. “Boring! But whatever. See you then, Virgil.” Roman stood up, pulling Virgil up and kissing his cheek before walking out of the lunch area. Logan and Patton followed, saying their respective goodbyes to Virgil.

Virgil stood dumbly as he watched his ‘friends’ leave the lunch area.

“Your first mistake was wearing plum and salmon pink together.” Virgil jumped, turning around to face the table where a boy in a beanie was sitting.

How in the hell did Virgil not hear him?

“Your second mistake was bowing down to the Swatch-dogs and Diet-Cokeheads. They got you wrapped around their fingers.” He continued, leaning back then standing, walking over towards Virgil, brushing shoulders, leaving. “You’ve clearly got a soul. You just need to work harder keeping it clean. We are all born marked for evil.”

“Hey, you can’t just quote Baudelaire at me and walk away.” Virgil grabbed the sleeve of his trench coat. The boy looked over his shoulder to look at Virgil, he was smirking. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.” Then he was off.

Virgil stared at the lunch doors dumbfounded.

[aro-laurance-zvahl]

hey now, don't beat yourself up about "unfinished" work. sometimes the purpose of writing is to shake your emotions out, or to test a new style, or to write the one specific scene you've been daydreaming about. 500 words is still a lot (trust, I did nano and thinking "I still have 500 words.." is daunting). no love, however brief, is wasted.

for a prompt, you never said if you wanted it fandom specific? so I think it could be fun to try and write smth in second person. you could do it in a, outsiders perspective looking in to whatever fandom situation you want. also, don't feel pressured to post it. sometimes our writing is just for us (though of course if you want to, I'm not holding you back!) :]

It has been. A bit of a rough week. Which made these 500 words take longer than my usual, but they shall not be wasted. Since I first followed you back in your Sanders Sides days, I figured I might well cobble together something SaSi. It’s from this LAMP soulmate AU I have, inspired by a fic I read years ago but when I reread it it just didn’t scratch the itch. It’s a mess of an AU, so many branching paths and no consistent timeline and probably at least 10k words of mess scattered around my drafts and 1k of them are probably the same words pasted into different draft where the situation goes a different direction. I have fun with it though, and I really like it which felt appropriate for this ask as well.

So without further ado, enjoy 537 words of Remy’s inner turmoil.

—

You are fourteen years old, sitting with your best friend in his room. You’re pretending not to notice, but you can tell he’s looking at how the writing appears on your arm. You know he’s still mourning the fact his writing doesn’t appear on it anymore, and so are you.

Not that you don’t like your soulmate, he’s nice and his doodles are getting better, and you feel it in your bones you’ll love him when you see him, but you don’t think it’ll stop the weird grief you have about Virgil. He’s been your best friend since you were six, and for over two years he was your soulmate too. Until he wasn’t.

Looking back, maybe it was predictable. You two were kids, arms filled with possible soulmates that fate was still lining up perfectly. Nearly all of them would fade, and one day, for you, they did. You were left with one, like everyone figured would happen. You had already met your soulmate, you two would barely remember a day without that bond. Except the one wasn’t Virgil, and it could not have happened at a worse time.

You don’t think you could ever forgive fate for the shambles she left Virgil in, even if your soulmate is a god on earth. He lost so much that year because of stupid fate and you know he’s never been able to recover, so why should you love fate? You know she’s not kind, maybe she has been to you since that time but you’ve seen the cruel nature she harbors. You had to watch her break your best friend before either of you knew long division.

You take a deep breath. He just got back from the hospital, it’s not the time to go on one of your anger induced ramblings about fate. They make him sad anyway, and you’re supposed to be here to cheer him up. You try to focus back on the game in front of you, but your arm itches and you know it’s because fate is sinking her claws along the new markings, urging you to look and look and look.

You give in to her demands, sparing a quick glance down to relieve the hives like feeling dancing across your arm. It’s nothing important, just a few words asking you to remind him to ask for more stickers, you couldn’t even respond if you really needed to anyway. The itching fades as quickly as it began though, and you wonder how Virgil manages to never look at his own if you cave after moments? His soulmates are chatty too, from what you have gathered from the small things he says about them.

It’s most definitely not the time to ask though, so you once again adjust your grip on the controller in your hand and focus your vision back onto the game in front of you. It really sucks you have to finish the game for him, but he doesn’t want to wait the couple months for his cast to come off to see the end and you know he’d do it for you. You’ve been dying to talk about it with him anyway, and that is definitely a safe and happy subject.

[forgettable-au]

Someone in the tags of the last post correctly guessed that Wingdings' lamp was made with these Waterfall glowing crystals soooo I took it as a chance to mention it! Hehe

Moving the lamp around a little will get it to shine brightly again when it's light is starting to fade

[satttanderna]

Shitty friends

( And other ugly sketches )

[tricoufamily]

hmm idk is this giving you the batman

[squishsquishy]

💜Purple Y2K Stoner Porcupine💜

x/x/x x/x x/x/x for @porcupiney

[completeoveranalysis]

[1]

Chapitre 183 - The World of Sand 

In which ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THIS IS INCREDIBLE. 

BLACK AND WHITE INVERSE COLOUR SAKURA AND SYAORANS? OHHHHH CLAMP ARE GENEROUS. CLAMP ARE GIVING.

Even just how each couple is wearing the colour opposite to their background, but also the opposite of the opposing pair.

And how the feathers are in the SAME but OPPOSITE part of the page for each side, showing that they are visual inversions of each other’s reality, but the feathers don’t look the same, and are shown at unique angles. Potentially they’re falling on one side but rising on the other. Potentially it’s the same for each, but its showing that neither story is complete without the perspective of the other. 

And how the small circles on the right are small and clearly defined against the background - perhaps falling water droplets, like the falling feathers around them? - while the ones on the left are fuzzy shiny orbs, like motes of air or magic rising through the sky. I think the implication of movement is a bit open to interpretation, you could go either way. IS one side falling and the other rising? Is the fate of that Sakura/Syaoran pair falling downward while the other rises? Is one falling to ALLOW the other to rise? Is one pair doomed by fate BECAUSE they are clones? Or are they drifting down and out of the narrative and into freedom, while the other pair takes up the fight in their stead? Is one background Black because their future is dark, or because they CAME from that darkness, as created tools of Evil Wolverine? Or is it their clothes that matter? Are they the light in the dark, the fragments of people who fought to change the future despite their origins? White clothing because they were initially empty and devoid of anything? Is the other background similarly white because it hasn’t been written yet - a future so undefined that no-one can tell what it will be when this is all over?

Are the circles actually heading in the same direction on both sides of the page, and the difference is how they are perceived? How one stands out against the darkness while the other needs help to be seen at all? The clones WERE the most visible throughout most of the story, and only through their existence did the other pair get the chance to enter the narrative again. 

I - oH fuck I forgot that this would be in colour and that I HAVE IT. PLEASE HOLD. WHERE IS IT. 

HERE IT IS! LOOK LOOK LOOK

EVEN THE SPLASH TEXT IS INVERTED

MIRROR IMAGES

And OH all that gorgeous golden ornamentation, the gem colours actually staying the same on both sides of the page. The clasp on Syaoran’s upper arm is the same symbol as on the previous cover, on Fai and Kurogane's clothing, which is a very fun connection that shows it wasn’t just an alternate world we didn’t see, but an intended shared thread of imagery for them all. 

The long pieces of jewellery that the Sakuras wear are gorgeous and delicate and intricate. It could be echoing the design of vines and natural growth - perhaps because she can communicate with spirits, and is in touch with the natural world, or perhaps because she is a desert flower herself, growing out of a literal world of sand but also blooming despite the extreme adversity, and blossoming out of pure determination. It also has visual echoes of imprisonment - it circles her neck not at a low level like a necklace, but high like a collar. It spreads across her like roots, holding her in place - or is it the opposite of that now? Is she, aware of her fate as she is, wearing Evil Wolverine’s designs like they're just a gown to be worn? Something she can’t take off but has learned to make work for her?

The Syaorans have a circular loop in the design of their coat around their necks as well - because they’ve been just as trapped in Evil Wolverine’s schemes. For the Syaoran on the right especially the loop around his neck has two circular gems visible that could echo the same shape as the goggles he used to wear, bringing in an element of the past that shaped who he is but at the same time was a design placed on him from birth, one that was all by someone else’s plan. 

AND THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THEM. The colour version lets you see the heterochromia in Syaoran's eyes on the right, showing which pair is which, and the DIFFERENCES in how they stand. (If they ARE in the pairs you would expect) Clone Sakura looks down, as if unfocussed, because she IS currently narratively dead. Or is she instead gazing at her hand, being held by Syaoran? She has wanted this so desperately and for so long. Does she look sad because she is currently dead, meaning they might never be actually together? Is she unfocussed because she has not yet had the chance to truly see that her sacrifice worked, and that Syaoran really has been restored? Either way, Syaoran holds her hand up in support, gently from below. 

The Syaoran on the left holds the other Sakura’s hand up close to his chest, hand clenched tight. This Sakura and Syaoran both look ahead - at where they are going? At what lies ahead for them both? Neither looks especially happy, but neither looks especially unhappy either. Lava Lamp has always been particularly unreadable, but the way he grasps her hand betrays how hard he’s been fighting for her. Sakura in turn looks just as unfocussed as her counterpart - and if Evil Wolverine is to be believed, it’s because she’s also dead. I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS THOUGH. She could potentially be in dreams, asleep for the entire plotline, held as a backup until they free her. She is not particularly aware that her hand is being held, and isn’t participating in the motion like the other Sakura seems to be, but she looks ahead all the same. Whatever they're looking at, they're clearly moving in a different direction entirely to their clone counterparts.

Meanwhile Clone Syaoran looks directly at the camera.

[dalish-delight]

The light of sun and star and moon In shining lamps of crystal hewn Undimmed by cloud or shade of night There shone forever, fair and bright

I know we're probably never getting the restoration of moria in-game, it would just be too similar to the iron garrison story. but the glimpses we get of khazad-dum in its full glory are SO -

[lets-go-hurt-someone]

I’ve played this game for over 600 hours and at least three times to completion, with more than 8 characters doing both evil and good runs, and it took until today to get stuck in the lamp

[cofe-doodles]

As I mentioned in my previous post, I will be explaining - in detail - the different au's I have of the sides. During the time I was active in the fandom, I made a lot of au's; some I remember, whilst others I don't. I will try to remember discarded au's as well just so that I can give you all content (and maybe drawings, but most of my content - as for now, since I am busy in school - will be in writing). So, without further ado, the first au we will be discussing is the:

Heather's AU!

Character Information:

Virgil Sawyer

Once popular turned outcast; Sawyer lives his high school life low-key. After graduation and upon entering the dreaded life of a high schooler, Sawyer finds himself in a mess; torn between his best friend and a chance at happiness again.

He wouldn't say that he didn't miss popularity because, in truth, he did. He missed having friends who would have his back and he missed the feeling of freedom; wherein everyone doesn't care what he does because he was one of the 'popular kids'.

So, between his life, the life of his best friend, and the lives of the innocent, Sawyer faces the most difficult choice of his life yet. Become a popular again or risk losing his sanity; he hesitates just once before making a choice.

Roman Sanders-Chandler

Rich, famous, and undeniably gorgeous, Chandler has the whole school wrapped around his pretty finger. Having been born in a rich family, problems for him were as easy as typing out his credit card info. The easy life was what he always had wanted, but the climax of his story was just nearing.

Fixated over the 'new' kid, Chandler finds himself drawn to a classmate. He swears he has seen him before, but can't really remember where and when.

There's nothing that stops him from reaching out, maybe even offering something he never offers to anybody. What can he say? The Sawyer kid caught his eye.

Logan Duke-Sanders

Obedient, intelligent, and often ignored by the king bee. Duke had always been the black sheep but that didn't stop him from achieving higher than any of his peers. He metaphorically crawled his way to the top; to where he is now, so why in the loving freak of nature is Sawyer doing in their table?

Confused and utterly mortified, Duke tries to understand why the self proclaimed king bee invited an outcast into their circle. Unwanted thoughts of what if's metaphorically knocked his noggin, a sense of rejection hitting him.

Was he being replaced by a former somebody?

Patton McNamara-Sanders

Ever smiling and ever laughing McNamara; the sweet lamb of the wolf pack. People often see him as the 'friendliest' Sanders which he takes advantage of. What can McNamara say? It was just that easy to fool people these days. Manipulative and charming; a dangerous combination.

So it's not a surprise as to why Sawyer opened up to him first. With the given information from the former outcast, McNamara can either break or make Sawyer; but don't tell Chandler that.

McNamara keeps secrets, like everyone in high school, but he feels like he can trust Sawyer.

Janus De Felice

With physical scars that reminded him of his past, De Felice moves out of his father's house and into a new city, meeting new people; meeting a potential boyfriend. The mystery of his past seemed to have Sawyer on a leash, and maybe De Felice doesn't really mind that.

Remus Sanders-Ancar

Moving from school to school due to his 'bad' behavior, Ancar finds himself in the same school where his wannabe cousin was. He decided to get himself suspended but reconsidered when meeting a winsome boy with the cutest eyes.

Relationships:

Virgil - Roman, Logan, & Patton

Virgil has mixed feelings about the three considering that he always viewed them as up-tight and mean people.

Roman - Virgil

Roman is interested in Virgil; not in a romantic sense but something close to that. Though, he flirts with Virgil a lot of times.

Logan - Virgil

Logan doesn't really like Virgil but flirts with him due to Roman.

Patton - Virgil

Patton feels indifferent of Virgil.

Virgil - Janus & Remus

Virgil likes them both, but it's not necessarily romantic. He just feels comfortable with the two since they don't really care about status or reputation.

Janus - Virgil

Janus has romantic feelings for Virgil considering the fact that Virgil is really easy going compared to other people. It's mostly because it's convenient.

Remus - Virgil

Remus has an unhealthy fixation towards Virgil; it started as a way to spite his cousin (Roman) but it grew to be an unhealthy obsession.

Janus - Roman

Janus doesn't like Roman but flirts with him to spite Remus.

Remus - Roman

Both hate each other.

Janus - Logan

Janus doesn't particularly like Logan.

Remus - Logan

Remus likes to flirt with Logan just to spite Roman.

Janus - Patton

Janus hates Patton.

Remus - Patton

Remus likes Patton because of his manipulative nature.

Roman - Logan & Patton

Roman considers them as friends. He likes hanging out with them because they let him be 'in control'.

Logan - Roman & Patton

Logan looks up to Roman in an unhealthy way, he also kind of has a crush on Roman because of the power Roman has on him. Logan likes Patton since both have different views that they can talk about.

Patton - Roman & Logan

Patton admires Roman openly. He also likes Logan and is very honest about his feelings for the two.

I'll add more as I build the world and story :)

[schwegler]

my self concept is awaiting your invasion clumsy penetration punishment, when the hope of another wet nightmare is all we have to live for

[fragileizywriting]

no one’s asked and i hope they never will about the electrical wiring in the magic room. there are no windows, theoretically there shouldn’t be any sockets either. just… don’t think about it.

[mrsimpurity]

pussy inspection with old man logan.. and he’s wearing his reading glasses.. omfg

cw: smut (nsfw), implied age gap

it’s late in the evening. a small bedside lamp illuminates the faint rose blush on your cheeks caused by the scene in front of you. it’s logan. he’s right between your legs, the hairs on his beard tickling your inner thigh, his face so close to your bare pussy, you can feel his quiet breathing on your skin. he’s wearing his glasses, of course he is. 

with two fingers, he spreads your glistening folds and blows lightly on your clit, the action making you shiver and instinctively try to shut your legs. but he pries them open again, his whole frame now between your thighs. you’re forced to face him, you just can’t look away. this feeling of being splayed out for him like a meal, vulnerable and nude, is erotically nauseating, addicting.

“you’ve been a good girl, right?” logan asks, slicing the tension in the air. you swallow and nod with a quiet “mhm”, not trusting your voice to speak.

in response, he places a soft kiss on your clit, the action eliciting something wild in you, a feeling of obedience, an all-consuming thought that this is what you were made for. to please him and get rewarded.

the cool wind blows through the open windows, making the curtains sway lightly and goosebumps erupt on your legs. logan lifts his gaze, looking up at you through his glasses which were resting carefully on the bridge of his nose. he gently runs a reassuring hand up and down your thigh.

“let me warm you up, baby.” he speaks softly.

and you oblige, you give yourself to him. perhaps the unconventional dynamic of your relationship was unnerving, a little too much for such a young thing like you. but that’s exactly what he was here for - to help you. so he rushes to your aid, releasing all of your pent up tension for you. you mold like putty in his hands, his beard covered in your juices, your limbs limp by the end of the night, the only time you speak being when you come undone on his tongue, whispering his name like a prayer.

[pupco1]

shes so me

[leonsdolly]

Canto V

Plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon's back from Spain, but there's something off about him.

CW: nsfw 18+, p in v, dubcon, implied somnophilia, breeding kink, bruising, titplay, cunnilingus, creampie, unprotected sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, lots of spit, choking, reader passes out during sex

WC: 2.4k

It may as well be a universally known concept that when you’re in a relationship with a government agent, you’d better get used to being strangers with the finer details. Who, what, when, where, and why made themselves at home in your vocabulary while you were dating Leon. It was all futile; he couldn't ever tell you where he was going for his next mission or when he was coming back to your grabby hands. Swearing confidentiality with your left hand on the Bible trumps a loving, concerned girlfriend apparently.

Leon had been gone for a few days this time around, and you weren’t sure when exactly he’d be back. You prayed to every divinity who cared to listen that he would come back home safe and sound to you. You did so every time he left. The government calls, he runs, you make your deals with Jesus.

The clock strikes midnight as you flit around your apartment, closing the kitchen and ensuring everything is locked up for the night. You got home from work rather late, and you’re looking forward to falling into a deep slumber, especially since you’ve taken your everything shower, completed your skincare routine, and changed into a cute teddy bear print cami with matching boy shorts. While your heart aches for your absent boyfriend, you throw your shoulders back and keep your chin high, braving another night of sleeping alone in your queen-sized bed. You slide under the covers and turn off your bedside lamp before closing your eyes and ultimately slipping into a welcomed state of unconsciousness.

Scratching, more scratching… Huh? You blearily open your eyes before squinting at the time displayed on your alarm clock - 1:48 am. Did something wake you? You don’t hear anything, yet you have the sinking feeling that something did lull you out of your sleep. You fumble to turn the lamp on - thankfully, there’s nothing standing in the corner of your room or anything else that would have you screaming bloody murder until your lungs collapsed. The covers are pulled aside as you sit up in bed, planting your feet on the hardwood floor. 

Once your feet lightly hit the floor, a terrible shuffling resounds from the living room which makes your blood freeze over. Your limbs are immobilized, but your eyes move towards the door, like you’re in a state of sleep paralysis and your demon’s lurking around the corner. Heavy footsteps grow closer and closer to your door, and you watch the doorknob turn in slow motion. 

The door swings open, and your body dissolves. 

“Leon?” Your eyes blink at him, unsure for a second if he’s the product of a sleep paralysis induced hallucination.

Your lover stands before you with a somewhat dazed expression himself - dark circles engraved below his exhausted eyes, faded bruises on his face, dark veins trailing across his pale skin. He stands transfixed for what feels like forever before he blinks. “Baby.”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your own stupor, and you launch off the bed and straight into his arms. You bury your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him tightly. “You’re home.”

He shudders violently before his arms encircle you as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling the smell of your shampoo - ah, figs and camellia, a breath of fresh air from guts and mold. “I missed you… I almost didn't…” His voice is unsteady, wavering in a way that makes you want to never let go of him.

“It's okay, my love. You're home now, you’re safe.”

“I almost didn't make it… You don’t know what happened…” His hands shake slightly as he grips onto you a little harder.

A lump forms in your throat at the realization that he could have very well perished during this mission. It’s not often that he lets you see him in such a vulnerable state, so hearing the fear decorate his tone causes your heart to squeeze painfully. 

“What happened?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Fine, at least tell me where you were. S’not like I can head there and foil the government’s plans after it’s already over. ”

“...Spain.”

You wonder what kind of horrors had transpired in Spain, but you know better than to inquire further. You hold him close and rub his back soothingly, trying to make him feel as loved as possible. “It's over now, right?”

“Right…” A hint of worry colors his tone as he presses a kiss to your head. “Can we just go to sleep?”

“Of course,” you reach up to gently rub the shadowy veins visible underneath his eyes and creeping up his neck. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Guess my body just went through a lot back there.”

You take his arms, turning them over and over and examining them closely for any serious wounds. Thankfully, you don’t see anything except for the occasional minuscule scrape, though the unnaturally dark veins worry you. You’re afraid they may be the result of some sort of vascular impairment, so you make a promise to yourself that you’ll drag him to the doctor’s office soon for a proper assessment. You help him wash up, letting him use your products so he’s soft and smelling like you. You hold each other close in bed, relishing the feeling of finally being able to sleep in each other’s arms after time apart.

Ouch. You wince slightly as you wake up to the sun streaming in through your lace curtains. You drowsily fumble for Leon’s hand to hold first thing in the morning like you usually do, but the space next to you is empty. You certainly hope you hadn’t just dreamed of his homecoming.

“Baby?” You croak as you wince again. Are you naked? And why are you so sore? Your eyes trail down to your arms which are littered with bruises. Eyes wide like cherry pies, you tug the comforter off to discover that the rest of your bare body is marked in a similar fashion - bruises bloomed across your neck, teeth marks engraved in your breasts, handprints stamped onto your hips like someone had been gripping onto them for dear life. Trembling, you slowly raise yourself up to a sitting position. You squirm as you feel slick in between your thighs, how fresh it is, you can't say for sure.

“Leon?” Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears as you call out for your lover.

You’re dazed as you take a step forward, feeling your body spinning like a ballerina, a delicate little thing that’s been used and abused and stuffed in a box marked FRAGILE. A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, anchoring you to his bare chest- they’re so much warmer than your Leon’s. Your eyes flutter as they gaze straight up into a pair that look like your Leon's except they’re murkier, hungrier. 

Inky blood vessels coagulate underneath his skin, giving him a mottled appearance. They interweave throughout his body like morbid ribbons decorating his limbs for a funeral. He breathes heavily as he squeezes at your already tender body, causing you to whimper.

“Leon, ‘m sore… What did you do?” A low growl reverberates within him as he pulls you back onto the bed, shoving you onto your back. Before you can interrogate him further, his lips smash against yours. His kisses are all teeth and slobber, filled with nothing but the desire to ravage everything you hold near and dear.

“Mine, all mine,” he groans as he latches his lips onto your neck, decorating it with his very own artistic flair. “Mine to keep forever.” You whimper at the way his lips assault your most sensitive point like a wolf ready to tear out the wide eyed fawn’s throat. 

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan which further ignites that primal instinct in him that wants to give you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known, all for the sake of claiming you as his very own mate. He squeezes your tits together and spits on them before rubbing it into your nipples with the rough pads of his thumbs. You squeal at the stimulation as he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it as hard as he can before letting go with a pop.

“God, Leon,” you cry out as he continues to suck on your tits. He pushes them together as hard as he can and forces both nipples into his mouth so he can lap at them like a creature who stumbled across an eternal spring in the vast desert.

“Love these tits,” he groans. “Sweet fucking nipples, made to suck on all day and night. To think they’re gonna get even bigger when they're full of milk.” He pushes his face in between them before finally pulling away with a slap to each one, watching them jiggle with a carnal gaze.

“M-milk?” You whimper as he kisses across your abdomen and lowers down to your leaking pussy.

“Yeah,” he pants as he spreads your dripping folds open with his thumbs, inspecting the remnants of the now stale cum he had dumped inside while you slept like an unsuspecting angel. “Your body has accepted my gift.” A tinge of fear courses through your veins at this last line; you can’t put your finger on why it makes your skin crawl, but they don’t sound like your Leon’s words.

“Gift?” You involuntarily moan as he lets himself drool on your pussy before pressing sloppy kisses straight onto your clit. 

“You’ll take my seed.” He starts lapping at your pussy ruthlessly, but not before grabbing your thighs and forcing them to clamp around his head, keeping him fused to your most intimate parts. Your sweet noises overflow the room as your back arches like he’s possessing you, dragging you down to flail around for eternity among the powerful black winds. Your voice turns shrill as you cum on his salacious tongue. Canto V.

When he finally emerges for air, his eyes are now murkier than before - the once serene blue that inspired such tranquility is now charred, tenebrous. “Leon,” your eyes tear up as you gaze down at him with your elbows propping you up.

“Shh,” he smirks as he raises himself up to pump his hard cock a few times before aligning himself with your pretty hole. “My baby, my lamb. Gonna get your beautiful belly all swollen for me. Gonna creampie you as many times as it takes.” He pushes himself inside your sopping cunt as you wail for the heavens. Your pussy allows him to enter with ease, clenching around him like it needed him to breathe - which it did. He begins to thrust into you with all the vigor of a madman.

“So good for me, my fucking girl,” he pants as he continues to pound into you. He leers at the way your tits bounce at each thrust before leaning over to spit on them. Your chest gleams with his saliva as you moan louder than you ever have before, like your throat really is being ripped out by the big bad wolf. His cock reaches deep, hitting all the spots you know nothing else can, and before you know it, you’re cumming all over him as he continues to pummel into you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to claw onto anything that can keep you physically grounded through your orgasm.

He laughs a little to himself as he continues to fuck you despite the fact you just came. “L-leon,” you cry out. “S’too much, too sensitive.”

“You can take it, been taking it all night.” His balls slap against your ass as he leans down to jam his lips against yours, licking into your mouth until your head’s all dizzy again. He rears back to push your legs up against your chest as his cock pounds into you; the new angle’s making your eyes roll all the way back into your head. “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs to himself as his breath hitches and he stares down at you losing yourself in the mating press. “That’s a good breeding bitch.” His words are hushed, but they bounce around in your head and yank another orgasm out of you, leaving you sobbing from the overstimulation.

“S’okay baby,” he coos as he kisses your salty tears away and wraps a hand around your smooth throat. “You’re doing so well, accepting my gift.” His eyes unsettle you, damn near pitch black as they peer right into yours. Your battered pussy tightens in tandem with the hand gripping your throat. Your tongue lolls out as you start seeing stars, and he sucks on it. “Give me another one, little lamb.”

“C-can’t,” you slur as your limbs dissolve. You want to give him another one. Want it, want to bear his child, want to exist for him. Want to breathe him, let him pump through your circulatory system. His breathing becomes erratic, damn near hysterical, as he nears his own high. He rubs your swollen clit to bring you closer to yet another orgasm, though you wonder if you’ll live to tell the tale once you reach it. He pounds into you as hard as he can, unrestrained growls falling from his lips as he dumps his load into you. You manage to cum yet again, release so intense on your already wasted form, that it shatters your senses. You’re vaguely aware of someone shrieking, and it takes a while to realize that it’s coming from your own mouth. You did it. Your vision goes black, and you slump into unconsciousness. 

The first thing you perceive when you regain consciousness is the calloused hand gently caressing your face as if you’re a china doll. “Leon?” Your mumble brings him to slowly gaze at you with concern and shame.

“Baby.” He raises his other hand to hold yours with all the love and tenderness he could muster. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore… tired…” You frown slightly as you try to sit up, but he stops you from straining yourself. “What happened, Leon?”

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes are cast downwards as if the floor will be more forgiving than his own lover. “I’m not okay.”

“It’s okay,” you frown as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I could’ve. I thought this thing had resolved itself in Spain.”

“We’ll figure this out together.” You gently tug his arm, signaling to him that for now, you just want him laying with you. He slides into the bed and cautiously rolls you over on your side so that he’s spooning you from behind. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and gives your belly a pat.