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dervampireprince · 1 year ago

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[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio] astarion x trans man! reader/tav /// smut, dysphoria comfort, reader's chest is un-described and untouched, reader has a vulva, soft dom top astarion, bottom reader

whenever there's a day when you feel off, wrong, you're hyper aware of your body and how it doesn't feel right to you, he'll notice. perhaps not at first, but the way your posture is different, the way you reject and shy away from his touch, don't flush or scowl at his flirting.

it's late when he decides he has to ask you what's wrong, him not being used to having others to care about, to worry for.

"have i done something wrong?" his voice is quiet and yet it startles you from your thoughts.

"no? no, of course no," guilt festers in you. "i'm sorry."

"there's no need to apologise, darling. as i've been told by someone quite dear to me, there's nothing wrong with not wanting to be touched."

"it's not that. i do, i," you breathe. "i want you to touch me quite badly."

"then i don't understand."

his fingers twitch, wanting to reach for you as your eyes flicker to the mirror across the room.

"when you look at me... what do you see? that is, i mean... you could have anyone you wanted, and i know what you'll say to that. and i believe you. that you want me. i just, sometimes it's hard thinking about the men you've been with, hells just men in general, and then... how they compare to... me. because sometimes, sometimes it's hard to see myself as... as..."

you trail off, aware of your shaking breath, aware of the wetness on your eyelashes, aware that you want to bury yourself against him but find yourself scared.

just as you start to wonder if you've ruined something, his hands hover by your face, not touching, waiting. and so you nod, and his he cups his palms against your cheeks, tilting your head to look at him.

"my sweet boy."

those words and his voice make everything the smallest bit better, you hold back a sob and place your head into the crook of his neck. him calling you a boy both soothing and comforting, but also always slightly arouses you.

"you know i love you? exactly as you are, because of who you are."

"i know."

he raises one of your hands to his lips and kisses it.

"would you let me show you?"

he's not used to being so careful with someone else, not that he hasn't been gentle before but it's never been out of his own desire to cherish the person he's with. but perhaps he can understand, in his own way, feeling disconnected to your own body.

"you're such a handsome man, such a pretty boy. and aren't i ever so lucky. when i was a child i would fantasize about some dashing prince, but i could have never imagined i'd find one like you. you're far lovelier than any dream. you're real. and for some unknown reason managed to see something good in me. you're the most incredible person i've ever met, and i'm going to help you see that."

your shirt stays on if you wish it, as much as he loves every inch of your body, and will continue to regardless of if it stays as it is, or if parts of it change. but he wants you to be comfortable.

he kisses you, trailing down from your lips to your neck, never meaning to get carried away there but always does. you find it hard to mind though as he kisses, teeth nipping but not drinking, leaving faint little marks. he likes leaving marks on you, a reminder that you're here, that you're proud to be with him.

his hands slide down your sides, over your stomach, they pull at the laces of your trousers, sliding them off you legs, leaving your bottom half bare, waiting for his attention.

you flush as he maintains eye contact with you as he slides a hand under your ankle, then down your leg as his mouth moves with it, kissing you calf, next to your knee, up your thigh. and if there's more to grab there, he reveals in it, adoring any curves, your softness. he pauses when he reaches the top of your thigh and chuckles, smirks to himself

"such a sensitive boy, i haven't even touched you anywhere intimate yet and look," you gasped as he glides a couple of fingers between your folds and then holds them up. "already wet for me."

he slides his fingers back against you, teasing around you before thrusting in, curling them upwards as he lowers his head.

"we can'tbe neglecting your cock can we darling? it's straining so hard. and just because it looks different than mine, doesn't make it less of a cock, does it?"

he stays blinking up at you until he realise he wants an answer and you shake your head no.

"good boy, that's right," he purrs and you want to feel condescended, but you just whine, flushing hot, wanting to be good for him, wanting to be his good boy, wanting him to call you that again. "and what shall we do with your pretty cock? shall i suck you off?"

you nod your head, eyes pleading with him and he laughs, not to make fun of you, but because your neediness, your eagerness for him endears him.

"very well then," his lips close around your cock, sucking and suctioning while his fingers continue to stroke inside you, your hands slip into his hair and tug accidentally and he moans around you.

"cheeky boy," he pulls back. "do you wish to come like this or..."

"fuck me," you say, and then. "please? please, astarion, i need you."

astarion always flushes when you tell him you need him. he slides up your body, "i suppose i shouldn't tease, you've been deprived of my touch all week, my poor boy thinking he didn't deserve this. don't worry, i'll fuck you like need."

his cock slips between you, holding you close, kissing your neck, hands stroking your waist as he pushes inside of you,

"that's it, such a good boy. always taking me so well," he loses control of his voice as he fucks you, murmuring praises as his hips snap against you, letting you tug him up to kiss you, pressing one of your hands down into the pillow so he can hold it.

he tells you that you're a good as you both come, he tells you that you're a good boy as you twitch, oversensitive, as he cleans you off, and he tells you that you're a good boy as you drift off in his arms.

#after learnings theres lines in the game where astarion says as a young boy he fantasized about a handsome prince well #also this was caused by the gender affirmation cameo i got from neil newbon #because hearing astarion say "well hello boy arent you a strapping young lad' has cured my gender dysphoria /hj #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #y/n #reader insert #male reader #trans man reader #ftm reader #imagine #imagines #the vampire writes

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luvmahae · 2 months ago

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john summit fanboys!

‣ haechan: nu chi theta's very own wild card! a public relations major, known for his big flirt energy, people love him for his confidence and unapologetically bold personality—he’s just him. literally the life of the party, usually the one who stands out because of how obnoxiously loud he is. music festivals are practically his second home; catch him either riding the rail or vibing back with his frat bros. with him, expect the unexpected; he's always full of surprises.

‣ mark: the frat's resident house dj of nu chi theta, a marketing major who wants to be john summit so bad according to haechan. he literally bought lasers off ebay just for their frat house. he's the guy everyone likes without trying. the frat's laid-back heartthrob, the one that can make everyone feel comfortable even if he's more reserved than his wilder friends. maybe one day he'll be headlining a festival... who knows!

‣ jaemin: the frat's smooth-talking communications major and surprisingly the king of rage cage! the highest body count in the group (insane). with a smile that could probably talk its way out of a speeding ticket, he's the guy everyone crushes on. the resident designated driver because he loves showing off his modded car. he literally wants a girlfriend but is absolutely terrified of commitment... but are we surprised? no.

‣ jeno: the ultimate double threat in the frat: a kinesiology major who's literally a frat bro and a gym bro... double whammy! with his build, who doesn't want a shoulder ride from him? he's the one in charge of bringing the goodies to events or to any party if you know what i mean. the resident rave dad, usually the one who holds the totem and has a fanny pack of just the essentials. vicks? gum? the fan? count on jeno.

‣ jisung: the computer science major who went through the key club to frat boy life pipeline. the smartest in the group obviously; i mean, how is he keeping up with classes with these events? he might be the complete opposite of his big (haechan), but they just mesh so well. if he's not partying, he's gaming in his room! not picking up the phone? just message him on discord.

introducing the gamma alpha class of nu chi theta! these fratboys formed their friend group during their freshman year, when they all rushed for the same fraternity. they bonded fairly quickly during pledge week, going through hell and back to get where they are now. shoutout to our sexy pledge dads jaehyun and johnny for crossing these idiots! from that point on, their lives became a wild ride of house parties, club events, and most importantly: brotherhood. jisung joined the fraternity later on and was picked up by none other than lee haechan, sealing their place as the ultimate big/little duo. now, their days are filled with unforgettable nights of partying, drinking, and endless hookup stories—living their best frat life, one rager at a time.

masterlist — yn's group — intro

notes: i rly hope u guys enjoy this!! crying because the bios make me wanna ??? </3 BUT I LIVE FOR IT.... also if anyone has questions about raving and stuff related to it, pls let me knowww omg!!

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emperor-palpaminty · 2 years ago

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Possessive HCs

Minors DNI, must have age in bio to interact or else ya get blocked. TW for possessive kink and all that jazz. i am unhinged and have no train of thought that makes sense. Also my inbox is open for requests hehe

(This post features Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Alejandro with anGN reader)

Price

LAWDY this man gives me possessive vibes. He's a captain after all, he's used to having his way and people respect his property.

And you are, after all, his... Right?

Price doesn't get the appeal of hickies at first. They seem immature, silly even, and he thinks they're more trouble than they're worth. And then he sees you with one that he gave you the day before.

Totally changes everything.

He'll cover you in hickies if he can, where where your flesh is soft enough. If your job is more "professional" and would frown upon it he would make sure to leave some just where the corners of a bruise is peeking out from under the collar of your shirt, just so people can still know you're his.

If someone comes up to flirt with you, he makes sure he winds an arm around you and maintains eye contact with the intrusive party until they get the hint and leave. He's the kind of guy who would stare the flirter in the face while kissing your neck, or up your arm, and he would carry the conversation on calmly.

Casually refers to you as "my girl/lad/love", "pretty thing", etc. Just as long as it's obvious you're his.

Ghost

In my brain, he's the most possessive but because he wants to stay as anon as possible, he doesn't get super grabby or touchy in public. The second you get behind closed doors however? Hooooo mama.

He marks you up good. Scratches, hickies, everything. Even if they aren't visible to others it is enough to remind you and that's enough for him. He is fine with getting some of his own too, but he prefers they stay somewhat hidden. Part of him wants to make sure you're as safe as possible, and that includes not letting the enemy know he's getting hickies from someone.

If someone comes up to flirt with you, I can see Simon standing nearby- but always staring down the person seeking your affections. You are polite to them but tell them you aren't interested, and if they press on that's when Simon comes over. He's probably thrown a guy through a window before TBH. After that he takes you home and treats you real good ;P

Soap

Yeah. yeah. yeaaaaahhhhhhh. This man is loud as hell and has a short ass temper when it comes to you. When others come up to you or are even looking your way, he grabs your waist or hand or pulls you close. He has one hundred percent given you a hickey in the middle of a crowded room (club? bar? who knows?) just because he saw a couple of folks looking your way with eyes that lingered too long. If someone tries to flirt, he is not shy at all about speaking up or pulling you behind him ("Sorry, this one's taken, lad. Go find someone else for the night.")

He will also mark you up too with all the hickies and scratches but he loves when you do the same to him. Honestly, the more hickies the better. If you give him any, he WILL walk around shirtless just to show them off. (Price scolds you for quote, "defacing government property")

Gaz

In my head Gaz isn't like. super kinky. He just seems so sweet in the games. I could be totally wrong though and he could be a kinky bastard (drop your Gaz HCs). But this is MY HEAD, welcome to the terror dome.

Yeah, Gaz isn't super possessive in a kinky way, but he does like when people know you're together. He'll slip an arm around you, or put his hand in yours. At one point as a joke you got a shirt printed with his face on it that said "Gaz's Guy/Gal" and he thought it was the funniest thing ever.

If someone comes up to flirt with you he's pretty quick to intervene. He will slip between you and the person and try to redirect them away- but if it comes down to it, he will knock a guy out for flirting with his partner despite a plethora of rejections and "no"s.

Alejandro

Alejandro is PASSIONATE deadass, and doesn't give a shit about who is watching. He'll pick up your hands and kiss them any time any where, or hold your face, or he will just stare into your eyes from across the room. The tension is palpable, you can palp it.

When it comes to showing you off or being possessive, he's more defensive. He will stand between you and the person coming to flirt with you and square up, just to remind them that this is not their place or purpose.

Afterward, he of course kisses you and makes love to you rather intensely ("Amor de mi vida, no one can do this to you, and even if they were lucky enough they wouldn't do this like I do"). And no matter what, you wouldn't let anyone else do that to you, because it's true- no one could do this (or you) like he can. Also he's vocal- he lets the both of you be heard if he's enjoying himself and he wants everyone to know that those sounds from your mouth were because of him.

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yourdailyangel · 3 months ago

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Im lovin the nicknames for astarion so I had a req

How would he be if tav wanted a child? Bio or not doesn't matter

Aww so cute anon! I hope you like it! Let me know!

(TW: this mentions pregnancy/Children if you do not agree or is uncomfortable with this please DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!!!!!)

🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸🖤🩸

It was a quiet night in the city not much has gone on during the day so everyone was very relaxed actually!

You and astarion are in your own room away from the crowd of people that's gathering downstairs in the inn.

It's a pretty inn actually! Of course it is astarion picked it!

You were quietly reading a nursery book in a cozy corner of the room, you don't know why but you thought hard and long about having a family and you wanted at least one child.

So you with a soft flap of the pages in the book closing as the hit together you walk over to astarion who is pondering while looking out the candle lit window.

"Yes my little love?" He had a soft gentle smile on his face as he turned to you, welcoming you into his embrace.

As you found yourself in his arms you felt so safe and you were! Astarion would burn millions of worlds if it kept you safe and happy, so you thought about how to bring it up to him. So you decided to just blurt it out.

"I want a baby" you said softly but loud.

"W-what?" Astarion doesn't stutter much I mean it takes a lot to get him to that point.

So you repeated "I want a baby"

You looked up at him, his eyes a bit wide with the shock but also gentle.

"A baby?" He paused his brows furrowed down a bit as he gets lost in thought for a bit.

eventually he comes back to reality and softly says "Me? A father?"

It's not like he's never thought of but after everything he's been through he tossed those things away. But after you explained your feelings about it and your reasoning he paused again "If .. that is what you want my love''

(Fast forward a bit I'm gonna throw in some head canons for you anon!❤️☺️)

Of course astarion doesn't mind if your child is biological or not!

He just wants them happy and healthy!

If your child is biological astarion is VERYYYYY protective of you during the whole pregnancy!

He attends to your every need (even more so)

You WILL have the best medical care gold can buy!

During the labor he does get nervous he knows anything can happen so he doesn't wish to leave your side!

After the birth again he will be nervous to actually hold the baby but just give him a bit of encouragement and he'll be okay!

If your child is adopted he's pretty much the same just minus the pregnancy part!

Your child will be the star in his eye!

He's also very protective of your child as well

Obviously they WILL be spoiled but respectful

He will always listen to their concerns and worries and if he needs extra guidance on the matter he will seek you out!

If the child has a nightmare well move over y/n because they will be sleeping with you both right in middle!

Astarion is a great father! He even shocked himself of how much he adores fatherhood!

It's a 10/10!!

#all credits to owner #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #gifs not mine

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miniherodesktales · 2 months ago

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Day 15: Virus

Kryten shook his head.

'It's not good news, sirs,' he said quietly. 'His Light Bee is getting weaker.'

'You saying he's done for?' Lister whispered.

'I'm sorry, the anti-virus has failed. The Light Bee is maintaining his projection for now, but I fear his mind has already gone.'

'And there wasn't much of that to lose in the first place...' The Cat wiped away a tear with his silk handerkerchief, ruining it.

'What do we do?' asked Lister.

'We should make him as comfortable as possible and say our goodbyes.'

'You mean switch him off?'

'His Light Bee is overheating and slowing down. He'll suffer less this way.'

***

The malware had trapped Rimmer inside of his own mind. All around him the bunk room was fire. Rimmer sat on the floor with his head in his hands. He was waiting for rescue, but it was a long time in coming.

'You mean switch him off?' Lister said from the computer screen.

Rimmer looked up, startled.

'His Light Bee is overheating and slowing down. He'll suffer less this way.'

'No!' Rimmer shouted. 'I'm here! I'm still here!' He slammed his fist against the wall, making the screen shake. 'You idiots! Help me!' The flames swelled around him. 'Help me, please! Dave!' Helpless he sank to his knees. 'Help me,' he whispered.

'They can't hear you, boy, so all this shouting and screaming is an entirely futile waste of your energy and very limited time.'

Rimmer felt his heart sink. 'Not you,' he moaned. 'Not you.'

'I am here,' his father said. 'I'm the antivirus and I suggest you listen to me.'

Oh, of course. Thank you fate, thank you fortune.

Rimmer allowed himself to sink sideways onto the floor. He closed his eyes.

'Enough of that,' his father scolded. 'Think! You can't communicate with the outside world and you can't lie on the floor. What other options are open to you?'

'I don't know. I'm tired.'

'Sleep!' his father declared. He wrote it on the chalkboard, as loudly as he could. 'It is an option. But of course choosing to sleep now will only lead to....come on, you know this!'

'Death,' Rimmer groaned.

'Precisely. And you know death, Arnold. It's the only thing you were ever good at.'

Rimmer opened his eyes. He pushed himself upright.

'How can you say that to me?' he rasped. 'I'm your son, help me!' He held out a hand to his father.

Professor Rimmer stared at the hand. His own twitched slightly, before the look of contempt returned. He folded his hands behind his back and bent down, pushing his face close to Arnold's.

'Dying is your forte, boy,' he droaned. 'Dying and...'

'I'm fading,' Rimmer gasped, he sank back down. 'Help me...'

'Dying is what you are good at and....what is your other strength? Answer me! This isn't difficult. You've been doing it you're entire exsistence.'

Rimmer couldn't answer. He had no strength left.

***

Lister placed his hand just over Rimmer's. The projection was so weak he could see the mattress beneath him.

'See ya, Arnie,' he whispered.

***

Rimmer closed his eyes. He felt quite comfortable, really. Lister was holding his hand, but he had given up on him. They'd all given up on him.

He began to dream, his dying mind throwing up all sorts of final memories before it would shut die for good.

He remembered nearly dying of malnutrition, but he hadn't. He had nearly died in the Great Io disaster when a volcanic explosion so powerful had wiped out one of the neighbouring bio-domes - he'd gotten lucky. Then there was the time Howard had nearly drowned him by pushing his head down the toilet. And when Porky had thrown him in the septic tank. Being tied to a spit; getting too close to an exploding scutter; sepsis; attacked by malfunction andriod....radiaition leak...ok, so that last one had taken him out, but frankly it was bucking trend.

It was the pattern in his life. He nearly died but clawed his way back out of pure stubborness. The world hated him, wanted him dead, well he wasn't going to go. The world was suffer a little longer with him in it.

Rimmer tore his eyes open. Pushed himself to his feet.

'Yes!' his father encouraged. He turned to write on the chalk board. It read: spite. 'You can choose to live. That is your option. Dying and surviving through sheer stubbornness and obstinacy. That is your talent, lad!'

Rimmer walked through the flames to the computer screen. He stepped up onto the chair and began to push his way through. His hands and arms melted though the glass.

He was about to duck through when his father said,' Arnie, I did the best I could.'

Rimmer blinked, then said, 'No you didn't.' And he left, leaving his father to the flames.

***

Kryten was astonished.

'Sirs, his Light Bee, it's turned itself back on! Working at 20% functionality. No, 50%, 60%, 80% - he's coming back to us!'

Rimmer opened his eyes. He was struggling to sit up as the Cat threw his arms around his neck.

'It's good to have you back, Goalpost Head! I still hate you!'

'I hate you more,' Rimmer rasped back.

Lister squeezed his forearms, beaming. 'I thought you were a gonna, man. Welcome back, Iron Balls.'

'Sir, I don't understand!' Kyrten cried. 'You were dead! Your Light Bee had shut down, but then it reactivated. How did you do that?'

'I'm very stubborn,' said Rimmer. 'You're all idiots for giving up on me.'

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #smegtober2024 #dave lister #rimster

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ordowrites · 10 months ago

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I want it to be known the C for Cum point on the Wanderer post gave me like the most intense brainrot- Like now I just have the mental image of trans Wanderer with like an intense breeding kink and equally as intense baby fever and like he keeps trying to breed his partner but he can't because he has no dick and no fertile cum so dude is just going through the most intense "I would knock you up if I could" type shit-

Like bro is just going through the nightmare of every lesbian and trans-man that just wants bio-kids and that is going to live in my head rent free for the next month because honestly I fucking feel that so hard bro-

oh my god anon, i feel you on this. it has to be a common thing amongst us XD

BUT this has inspired me so-

cw: breeding kink, afab reader, notsfw, use of toys, biting.

trans!wanderer is ago~

You'd seen him watching families come and go on the streets each day, a thin frown on his beautiful face - you think he looks envious most of the time and always considered asking if he wants to have children (but never quite doing so because you know you'll get a snappy response in return).

Perhaps, you've entertained the thought of a family with him - biological children are off the table for you both but adoption isn't a bad thought. Or hell, maybe finding out how his creator made him and mimicking that if he wants.

Whatever would make him happy.

Baby fever hits him pretty hard on the bad days - those are the days he'll shove you onto the bed, all but rip your clothes off - fingers working at your cunt until you're begging for mercy. He knows all of your spots to make you cum quickly, easier to make you ready for whatever strap on or toy he's picked out for your quivering hole.

His breath is always hot at your hear, needy moans escaping his pretty lips as he shoves himself against you.

"Imagine," he'd groan and growl against your ear, nipping at your earlobe. His movements are erratic, desperate - he's close himself and you're already a mess of your own slick, the fake semen from the dildo, and his. He always makes a mess of you. "You round and plump with my babies, my children. Mine." He bites at your breasts, focusing particularly on making you keen and whimper, sensitive buds perked and ready.

You cannot mistake the need in those violet hues, the desperation - and you sure as shit wish you could give him what you wanted.

The thought makes you clench around the toy, makes him cum - squirt - himself. There's bruises on your wrists from where he'd grabbed you, bite marks on your chest and neck, claw marks along his back and shoulders.

He'd cage you in for a few minutes - breathing hard as you kiss his face in a sloppier, wet manner as you stroke his hair that feels too real to belong to a puppet. You'd quietly assure him that you love him so so much and he'd only grunt in response.

It would be an immaculate conception, you think. Wouldn't it? You're tired, but he's hoisting your legs up on his shoulders. It's never a one time deal - not with him, never with the Wanderer. When he does something, he makes sure he does it multiple times. Until you're both exhausted, until he's satiated and content. The Wanderer never sings you praises, but he certainly does whenever the baby fever strikes him.

So, every time, all you can do is spread your legs wider, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him close.

#wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #reader x character #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #genshin x reader #ordo.txt #ordo.text #wanderer #mine.txt #honestly is it better to use scaramouche or wanderer?#i tend to write him post his story #but if i just gave him a name i'd worry that people would think like he's an oc #or its not like a good enough name #i deliberated for *weeks* on what to name him that i couldnt finish the story quest #until i'd done hours of research cross referencing and maybe some tears #i named him saisei #but if anyone has suggestions feel free to send 'em my way #wanderer feels clunky and it feels like a disservice to use scaramouche unless i write him pre-story (which i might off and on)#i wont use kabukimono nor kunikuzushi since he canonically rid himself of those names #kdsfdfds sorry for the tag rambles #asks

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agentrouka-blog · 5 months ago

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Random Question: but do you think Jon might return to the Winterfell crypts when his consciousness is in Ghost and meet Lyanna? (and this where "do dont belong here" wil mean "your life is not over yet") it could be the one way how Jon finds out about his parents without having to believe a third person he never met going "trust me bro, ned was not your bio dad"

I'm sceptical of this, mainly because this isn't really how the afterlife works.

In Varamyr's prologue chapter, we are given the POV of a dying man and in the moments before his consciousness transfers into the wolf, we get a glimpse of death and previously described my the woods witch:

"Your little one is with the gods now," the woods witch told his mother, as she wept. "He'll never hurt again, never hunger, never cry. The gods have taken him down into the earth, into the trees. The gods are all around us, in the rocks and streams, in the birds and beasts. Your Bump has gone to join them. He'll be the world and all that's in it." [...] Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that's in it, he thought, exulting. A hundred ravens took to the air, cawing as they felt him pass. A great elk trumpeted, unsettling the children clinging to his back. A sleeping direwolf raised his head to snarl at empty air. Before their hearts could beat again he had passed on, searching for his own, for One Eye, Sly, and Stalker, for his pack. His wolves would save him, he told himself. That was his last thought as a man.

Consciousness dissolves into the natural world, a peaceful rejoining of the self into a larger whole. This is why a reversal of this process always leads to an incomplete person, as with Beric and certainly with Lady Stoneheart.

Varamyr disrupts this process of dying with his warging power and transfers his consciousness into a wolf, where it will slowly fade into the animal. Jon will bide his time inside his wolf after being stabbed, as well. He won't travel a nonexistent afterlife and meet ghosts. In GRRM's world, there are none.

Essentially, there is no Lyanna for Jon to meet anymore. There hasn't been since the day she died.

The only miraculous post-humous maternal reunion we can look forward to is probably that of Arya and Lady Stoneheart. Which will doubtlessly mirror the revelation of Jon's mother in the sense that it is distorted, painful and only ever an opportunity to better understand a person that is already gone, in the face of a death that has already occured.

He's going to have to trust a third party on this. And I think he'll understand how much sense it makes. Some part of him probably already suspects. Why else did he go from guilelessly playing in the crypts with his siblings to highly symbolic dreams of something terrifying lurking in the crypts that he must face. He'll know it's true. He'll fight it, because it's painful and so much worse than the lie, but he'll know.

#asoiaf speculation #jon snow #rlj #death in asoiaf #lyanna stark

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c0zy-fluff · 8 months ago

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Uhhhhhh- new StarStudent hc if (based off the new PPT book that literally released a day ago I think-)

Sooo, y'all probably heard abt all the boys in the Smiling Critters group (mostly CatNap and DogDay) being thrown shade at, right? Wellllll, stumbled across these two bios according to the book regarding Kickin n Bubba

Apparently Bubba's getting ignored for his explanation (probably being thought as annoying/boring?) and ofc, Kickin having a 'tough guy' facade to cover up his scared lil mind (I feel so bad for all of the boys- /gen)

Sooooo, hc time! This time, split into two! (for both sides to be comforted 🥹)

Bubba telling ppl knowledgeable stuff, but no one wants to hear it :(

Whenever Bubba is telling someone some new information and they're ignoring him, he feels like he's only just annoying them at that point cuz they don't seem to care about what Bubba's 'nerdy facts' have to say. Bubba would most definitely feel bad about this, so he'd cut himself off in the middle of an explanation, when he notices the person he's talking looks like not listening at all and they feel like they're being tortured by a lecture, apologize for wasting their time, and then walk off. Bubba would probably then sit in a corner and his face would be buried within the pages of a book as a way to try and distract himself.

Kickin, who's walking around aimlessly, would notice that Bubba is all alone, sitting in the corner, and face buried within his book. He'd then question Bubba why he's sitting all alone and in a corner and Bubba would look up from his book and tell him that he was just 'annoying people again for the umpteenth time with 'boring' facts no wants to listen to' and that he'd just want to take his mind off what happened. Kickin realizing that Bubba feels ignored and like he's annoying, he wants to make Bubba feel better, but he doesn't know how to.

Then an idea strikes him. He then turns to Bubba and then asks him something trivial like "Why is the sky blue?", "Why do people's hands feel cold when the weather/season isn't even near cold?", etc. and Bubba would then look at Kickin for reassurance that it's okay if he can go off on his explanations and facts and then Kickin nodded. For every word that Bubba said, Kickin listened; he never looked annoyed, he never told Bubba to stop mid-sentence, and he didn't feel like he was being tortured by Bubba's fact lectures. He just wanted to listen to Bubba. And that nod was all that Bubba needed to reassure himself that he's not as annoying as he thinks he is.

Kickin feeling like his 'cool guy' facade is starting to fade/crumble to his feet (basically he scared :( )

Kickin was most likely bullied as a small chick before he met anyone in the group, which is most likely the cause of why he's doing this facade. Kickin would feel like that if he doesn't have any confidence or even self control in himself, he'll have to go through being bullied all over again, hence why he'd act like he was one of the coolest members of the group. Bubba saw through this facade of Kickin's, but never publicly spoke out about it due to not wanting to start a fight w/ Kickin or potentially shatter Kickin's ego, in front of everyone.

Until one day, Kickin was running away from his own fears and those fears unfortunately engulfed him in a storm of thoughts such as "You're not as cool as you think", "This is all fake", "None of this is real", "Get over yourself", etc. This was starting to make the chicken reach his breaking point and his facade slowly started to crack open and tears start to break out from the brink of his eyes. So, Kickin ran into a forest filled with plenty of fresh air from the trees and tried to look at anything to keep his thoughts down.

Bubba noticed Kickin running into the forest and wondered what he was up to this time. Unfortunately, he noticed that the chicken was in distress and up against a tree. Although he knew it was a facade to keep his cool, he didn't expect this side of Kickin to be THAT bad. Bubba then spoke out to Kickin and then Kickin flinched at the sudden noise and looked in the direction of Bubba. But Kickin then looked in the opposite direction before Bubba could properly take in the stressful look on the chicken's face and attempted to scoot away in hopes that Bubba didn't see him like how he looks now. Bubba took a seat on the grass next to Kickin and asked him what was wrong, but Kickin refused to answer; not like this. After a few moments, Bubba spoke up again and said that he can't help Kickin if he doesn't explain himself first.

So, Kickin took a deep breath and then went on about how he feels like he has to wear this mask while being known as the 'cool kid' cuz if he doesn't, then he assumes that if he lets out his true colors, he's going to experience the same pain that he felt as a chick. Bubba takes note of this and tells Kickin that he and the others would never do that to him, no matter what he acts like; cool kid or not.

Bubba then tells Kickin that he and everyone else in the group like him the way he is and that they genuinely care for him, whether it be under his cool guy facade or if it's Kickin actually being soft w/ others. Kickin understands Bubba and gives him a big smile and puts his arms out to wrap Bubba in a nice, comforting hug. Kickin thanks Bubba cuz he really needed to hear that due to the overwhelming thoughts he had a few moments ago, before Bubba came in to help him out.

Bubba returns the hug and welcomes Kickin, saying that he's great the way he is and he tells Kickin that doesn't need to change a single thing or worry about his cool guys facade cracking, just as long as he's being himself. Just as long as Kickin's being Kickin.

------------------------------------------------------------

WOOO!! THIS TOOK LONG,, I LOVE THEM SMMM ALONG W/ A BIT OF HURT/COMFORT- 💙💛

(im almost done w/ the tiny wip i just released a few hours ago btw)

#smiling critters #bubba bubbaphant #kickinchicken #bubba bubbaphant x kickinchicken #kickinchicken x bubba bubbaphant #starstudent

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blossom-works · 1 year ago

Text

His Sunshine

Agent Leon S. Kennedy has been through hell after hell. Never having a break from the chaos. His heart has hardened over the years since Raccoon, leading him to turn to alcohol for temporary release. Who would have thought that fighting bioterrorism was the reason that Agent Leon S. Kennedy found his peace and comfort?

Warnings: Mentions of child/human trafficking, death of children, alcoholism

*OC is Asian cause let's face it, Leon has a thing for Asians (Ada and Shen Mei)

When He First Met the Sun

"Hunnigan, what the hell are you trying to say?"

Through the heavy-duty phone screen, a woman with brunette hair has to inform her long-time friend and co-worker of the horrors of his upcoming assignment.

"We have intel that whoever is in charge of creating this strain of the virus is using children to spread the disease. Trafficked children..."

"Jesus fucking Christ." Instead of taking another shot of pure liquor, Leon opts to drink straight from the bottle. The burning liquid glides down his throat, numbing the man even more.

"The president has created a specific team for this assignment. He wants you and the BSAA to partner up with an agent from the FBI. She was specifically asked for by Chris Redfield."

"Chris is on this mission too?"

"The president wanted his expertise in this. It'll be a four-man team. You, Chris Redfield, Jill Valintine, and the FBI agent. Chris said that he'll be picking you up at your current location. You are to meet the FBI agent at 1500." Hunnigan hangs up the call, leaving the drunken man to his own endeavors.

Just when the hell is this hell going to end? Since '98, things have only gone downhill. It seems that all Leon ever does is fight these bio-engineered monsters while losing people by the hundreds. This is hell. Leon is living in hell. A never-ending cycle of death and carnage.

By the time Chris gets to the bar, Leon has already finished one entire bottle of tequila. Lord knows how Leon's liver is doing. Stumbling, Leon leaves the bar to stumble in Chris' car. On his way out he forgot to pay his tab, which Chris had to pay for (but not forgetting to make a mental note that Leon owes him).

"You reek of alcohol." Chris grimaces as he rolls down the back windows.

"Yeah, so? You smoke."

"Not as much as your drink."

Chris opens the glove compartment to pull out a file. "Here, you can go over the mission on our way to the FBI headquarters. That is if you're sober enough to even read."

Leon snatches the file from Chris, mumbling how he can read "Thank you very much". He has to shake his head to get his eyesight to work. The contents of the folder are gruesome. Pictures and names of children that have gone missing fill the thick folder. Some of the last few papers are of what is suspected to be people in charge.

"Hunnigan told me that you recommended an FBI agent to the president."

"Yeah, she's the youngest sister of one of my buddies back in the day. She works in the department of human trafficking and child exploitation. She's only worked there for about two years, but she's one of the best in the field."

"Hold on, you said she's only been employed for a little less than a year? She's a rookie!"

Chris scoffs. "And? As I said, she's currently one of the best agents that specialize in this field. If we're going to accomplish this mission, we're going to need her expertise."

"And how old is this chick?"

Doing some quick math in his head, Chris answers "23".

"She's a kid."

"And she's one of the best the FBI has to offer. That says a lot, Leon." Chris further defends. He must really believe in this chick's skills to defend her like this, Leon concludes. Shutting up, the two men travel to the agency in silence.

FBI Headquarters:

In a small room sits three people. DSO agent Leon S. Kennedy. BSAA operator Chris Redfield. BSAA agent Jill Valentine. Each of them has folders and folders of information that was apparently collected by the FBI agent they will be working with. Impressive for a woman who only has less than a year's worth of experience.

The door clicks open and reveals a woman of Asian descent with a short stature wearing a basic black and white suit, with three-inch stilettos. Her black hair is tied into a high ponytail that stops at the nape of her neck. Her features are soft and the color of her skin tells people that she most likely came from a bloodline of Southeast Asians.

"Apologies for the wait. The president sent someone to deliver some useful information."

Jill asks what that information is.

"That we are given almost all clearance to the highest level. With the president's approval, we can obtain Pentagon-sealed information. Not even the CIA can tell us 'no." You sits down at the last empty seat.

"Woah, it seems he really wants us to catch these guys."

Lean speaks up, "Then we should get started."

You go over the contents of the mission. For a woman who has been working as a federal agent for less than a year, your work ethic is top-tier. Even Leon silently admits that you are well-equipped for your job. And you are sort of a cutie. You talk about how the FBI and CIA are certain that BOWs are stemming from trafficked children. Any questions they have, are answered a couple minutes later during your presentation.

At the end of your presentation, you address the elephant in the room. "So now that I've told you everything that I know. It's time you tell me how to deal with BOWs."

Chris is the first to speak up. "Shoot them in the head. It's the only way to kill them." You nod.

"Are you up for it?"

To you, it sounds like Leon is challenging your competency. He wants to know if you will be a hindrance on this mission. Sure, you are a smart cookie but how will you hold up facing a human-turned-monster? Can you hold yourself in battle? Or will you need to be babysat along the way? In truth, Leon wants to prepare himself when he eventually loses another person in this cycle of hell.

"Agent Kennedy, I understand the reasoning behind your question. In truth, I don't know. Unlike the three of you, I have never encountered a BOW." A sufficient and honest answer. You go on further. "This mission is a give and take. I give you my expertise on human trafficking and child exploitation, you give me the galls to kill those things. You teach me how to kill BOWs, I give you the information you need to outsmart these bastards and get these kids out of hell."

Standing up, you tell your team that you will meet up here again tomorrow, at six sharp. Only this time, it will be at the FBI's helipad. The rumored place of operation is near the Mexican border. The four of you will be stationed in a remote area in Southern Texas for the duration of the mission.

Texas:

"Hey, why do you wake up so early in the morning? Are you getting some extra work in?" Jill asks as the four of you are eating some take-out.

On day two, your teammates kept asking you why they were waiting before barging into the supposed hideout. You understood that for them, barging in with the information you have is a norm for them. But they forget that they are not just dealing with BOWs but human trafficking. If any piece of the collected information is wrong, it could jeopardize the entire mission. You told them, "I'd willingly turn into one of those mutants before compromising the children's chance of freedom."

They stopped bugging you after that. The three of them stepped back to let you take the reigns. They really did forget that there is another part to this mission other than to exterminate BOWs.

"Sort of. I wake up early to do my morning workouts."

It is no surprise that you work out. Everyone in this damn house works out, but to do it so early in the morning and not take a nap during the day is crazy.

"Why so early?"

You shrug your shoulders. "I usually wake up early to go running at the park near my place, but since we're not in D.C., I'm extending my workout to make up for it." The conversation is then directed to how you know Chris.

"My brother was his junior in the Air Force. Redfield once came to our home back in Georgia for...was it Christmas or Thanksgiving of '93?"

"It was Thanksgiving. Your mom invited my family to come over."

"Wait a minute...You were born in '87, so that would make you either six or seven at the time." Jill says.

You and Chris hum before Chris starts teasing you. "She was so infatuated with me at the time that she kept calling me her 'boyfriend'."

Groaning, you throw a pen at Chris who ends up catching it. To further your embarrassment, Jill and Lean start laughing. You can feel the tips of your ears getting hot.

"Dammit Redfield, I was six at the time! Stop bringing up old shtick!" You huff.

"What? It was cute how you would want to sit next to me. You even 'fought' your own mom because she sat in 'your' spot." Chris turns his head and whispers to his other colleagues, "She was so cute I still have photos from that day", making them laugh even more. "Side note: Why do you keep calling me by my last name? We've known each other since we started 'dating."

"Because we're on the job. When we aren't working together I'll start calling you Chris again." You say as you roll your eyes. Getting Chris to stop embarrassing you is equivalent to getting a pig to fly. It is never going to happen. "Plus given the age hierarchy, you're the oldest one here, grandpa."

"A grandpa you once called your boyfriend," Chris smirks. To an outsider, it might seem like Chris and you are flirting, but you are not. One, because it would basically be pedophilia considering you two met at the respective ages of six and twenty. And two, because you and Chris see each other as siblings it would also be a case of incest if the two of you were flirting.

Half-joking you say, "I guess I've always been into older men."

To get the attention off of you, you then ask how Jill and Leon know Chris. Like they did, you sat and listened to their (less embarrassing) stories. By the end of the night, you find yourself getting a bit closer to Leon and Jill. Chris excuses himself to take a call and Jill excuses herself to take a shower. Leaving you and Agent Kennedy on the ground floor.

Leon is the one to break the silent barrier, albeit, not in the greatest way.

"So, you're into older men huh?" You can practically hear his smirk from behind the laptop.

You decide to humor the man and play along. "What's it to you?"

Leon shrugs. "I don't know, maybe after we finish this mission we can go grab dinner sometime?"

"Are you asking me on a date Agent Kennedy?"

"Depends on if you say yes."

"What if I say no?"

"Then it could be two friends having dinner together." Leon shrugs again. You chuckle and shake your head in amusement. You close the laptop and place your intertwined hands on top of it.

"I don't do flings, Kennedy." You tell the man honestly, making sure to make direct eye contact to show Leon how serious you are. Leon holds his hands up in surrender.

"Then we can go out as friends." He compromises. "There's nothing wrong with two friends hanging out over a meal, and it wouldn't count as a fling."

You are not opposed to the idea, but you do want to poke fun at the legendary Leon S. Kennedy. "I'm afraid not. I don't consider us friends, Kennedy. We're co-workers."

"What if I believe that we're friends?"

"Then I guess we're at a standoff." You tease.

Leon takes the challenge. "Then I guess I'll have to convince you otherwise."

You stand up and throw away your takeout container. Grabbing the laptop you head upstairs to where the rooms are. "I guess so," you call out from the stairs.

When He First Felt the Sun's Rays

Your apartment is filled with the scent of different herbs and spices. A harmonious smell that you hate the fact that you have to open your balcony door to let some fresh air in. Your hair is held up by a clip and you are in a white shirt, a thin flannel, and a pair of jean shorts. Classic "girl next door" look. You take a piece of laffa and dip it into the hummus. You have music playing in the background as you finish grilling the chicken kabobs.

You get a notification on your phone that there is someone at your front door and not a second later, they are knocking. Wiping your hands on a kitchen towel and turning down the heat, you answer the door.

"Hey, Leon." Your old colleague greets you back with a bouquet of parchment-wrapped flowers. Thanking him, you let him inside of your apartment and find a place to put the flowers. Walking into the open concept room, you yell out to the DSO agent.

"And don't forget to take off your shoes!"

Leon immediately kicks his shoes off and is hit with a waft of comforting spices. "Smells good in here."

"Thanks, I hope you like Middle Eastern food 'cause that's gonna be dinner. If you're a bit hungry I left out some hummus and laffa out on the island counter."

"Laffa?" Leon asks but still takes a piece of the bread and dips it into the bowl of pureed chickpeas.

"It's a flatbread. Think of Indian naan."

"Did you make it yourself?"

"No, I bought the hummus and bread from a local Middle Eastern restaurant nearby. Everything else though is from scratch."

Leon tries to go around the island to offer you his help but his left foot steps on something soft. A loud "arf" scares Leon and forces him to look down. A body of blond hair scurries across the floor towards you, scratching at your legs.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean to step on your dog." Leon apologizes. The medium-sized dog is now in your arms, seeking your comfort.

You wave off Leon's apology. "Don't worry about it. Shiloh always gets so excited to meet new people that she forgets to stay out of the way. It was an honest mistake so no biggie."

Leon manages to walk around without stepping on a dog this time. He reaches his hand out to pet the top of the dog's head as another apology. It accepts his apology and their tail starts wagging again.

"Her name's Shiloh, huh? What breed is she?"

You put Shiloh on the ground so you can put the kabobs on a platter. "An English Cocker Spaniel. I got her while I was still living in Georgia."

Leon is too busy with your dog to listen to you. He is bent down on one knee and Shiloh is climbing onto him. Begging him to keep petting her.

"Leon!"

"Huh? What?"

You roll your eyes and place your hands on your hips. "I asked if you could help me set up the table."

"Oh, yeah, sure." He spits out in embarrassment.

Together, you get the table ready for your fourth date in a row. Since you got back from Texas, Leon has not stopped pestering you to agree to go on a date with him. The first date was the unofficial date and the second was the first date. Making this date at your apartment the third official date with Leon. To your surprise, Leon is a total gentleman. You thought men like him liked to "date" women for a while in the name of fun. So far, Leon has only been able to change half your mind about him.

The unofficial date was a simple walk in the park followed by lunch at a diner. The second (first) date was at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History where you could geek out. Leon found your dorkiness cute. The third (second) date was a nice dinner at a steakhouse. Leon found out that you gave the waitress your card and told her that you would be paying for yourself. When you parted ways, Leon told you that he would get back at you for your little stunt. And the fourth (third) date is dinner at your apartment.

During your dates, including the unofficial one, the two of you have been getting to know each other a lot better. The two of you talked about your childhoods, hobbies, and stupid shit you did as a kid. Leon is a little confused as to why you failed to mention you have a dog.

Leon hums in delight. "The food is good. Didn't think you would be such a good cook."

"All thanks to my mom who would drag me and my sister to the kitchen whenever she would cook." You shiver at the unpleasant memories. "What about you? Do you cook?"

"Not like you," Leon answers honestly. "Just basic meals."

"Mmm...sounds sad." Leon laughs as he agrees with you.

Dinner went by wonderfully and Leon even helped you clean up. You purposefully put some food in a separate Tupperware for later. After the table is clean and the dishes are done, you propose that the two of you play a couple games of Smash Brothers, igniting the competitive side of Leon. Sitting next to each other, you try to kill off the other's character. After some 1v1 games, you paired up to play against bots in 2v2 games. To further challenge Leon's competitive side, you switched to Mario Cart. You end up getting a text from one of your neighbors to quiet down.

The reason why you two are now cuddled on your couch, watching an old Barbie movie. Why is the famous Agent Leon S. Kennedy watching an early 2000s Barbie movie? Because you wanted to. That is all the reason Leon needs to watch the damn cliche, animated movie about a doll. Shiloh has plopped herself on the other side of Leon. Like you, she has nuzzled herself into his side. When the movie finishes, it is close to ten.

"Think it's time to call it a night?"

Reluctantly, Leon nods. For the duration of the movie, Leon has been petting Shiloh's head, lulling her to sleep. By now, your dog is fast asleep in doggy dreamland. Getting off of your date, you head to the kitchen to grab something. Stretching his legs, Leon gets off the couch and heads to the foyer. When he turns around to say "bye", Leon is surprised to find you standing behind him with a cloth-covered item.

"Here, it's some leftovers from tonight's dinner. Just heat the bread in the oven so it won't get soggy."

For some reason, the gesture warms Leon to his core. Never once has he had a woman pack him leftovers. Not even his own mother. The sweet act touches Leon so much that it sort of scares him. Like scares him, scares him, and scares him because he wants more of you this. Your soft face and sweet eyes. Fidgeting your feet because you are embarrassed. The soft smile on your lips is just screaming at Leon to kiss you.

"Thanks...I'll remember that." Grateful, Leon takes the meal from you and the two of you awkwardly stand in your foyer. "So, uhh...I'll be off now."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll walk you out."

The two of you step out of your apartment and hug each other. Unlike your previous hugs, this one is tighter and longer and more intimate. You have to force yourself to release the hug or else you risk never letting go of the man. You whisper a "good night" to Leon and he returns the favor. Deciding that life is too short, you pull Leon back to you. Cupping his cheeks, you bring his face to yours and you kiss the irritatingly attractive man.

There are a few times Leon has been surprised. Both good and bad surprises and Leon is more than happy to count this feat as a good, no, a wonderful surprise. He purses his lips and uses one hand to hold onto the widest part of your hips, bringing the two of you closer. The new closeness gives you a burst of confidence. In the silence of the hallway, you can hear the faint smacks from your lips on Leon's. Your left thumb rubs over the growing stubble on Leon's cheek.

Leon always thought that your lips looked supple and soft. Finally able to feel them the way he wants to, your lips are supple and soft with a dash of chapped. Who knew kissing you could feel so addicting? To calm the animal inside of him, Leon compels himself to pull away. His mind is going haywire when he feels a string of saliva break.

When you open your eyes, you look too good. More attractive than usual. Too attractive to the point where Leon has to chant "Not now. Not now. Not now." in his head. What puts a crack into Leon's self-control ability is when you peck his lips a few more times.

"Goodnight Leon."

Out of it, the only thing Leon can do is nod, making you laugh a bit. That is before you look over his shoulder, which is still hunched over from having to bend down to your height.

"I can see you two."

Your neighbors that have been nosily watching, quickly pop their heads inside their apartment and close the door. You smile and roll your eyes. "Neighbors." You kiss Leon's stubby cheek and shoo him away.

Leon gives you a charming smile and tells you that he will text you later. When he is a couple of steps away from the elevator, Leon hears you call out to your neighbors again.

"I can still see you two!"

When the Sun Knew He Would Clear the Dark Clouds to Let Her Shine

With his wrists tied together, Leon manages to use his legs to kick the infected away from him. JD is too inexperienced to aid Leon, so he needs to hurry or else they will both die in this hellhole. Before Leon can get the upper hand two shots are fired, killing the two infected. JD checks himself to make sure he is not bit or injured anywhere. Leon sits up and looks around to see who is responsible. It could be a friend or foe.

"You know when you said you'll wait for me to finish my case, I didn't think to find you in an underground bunker."

A part of Leon is relieved to see you, knowing that he has at least one person he can trust. The other part of Leon is PO-ed that you willingly threw yourself back into fighting BOWs. The DSO offered you a position for your extraordinary work back in Texas, but you declined. "I'm crazy to be doing what I do, but I'm not that crazy to fight BOWs for a living."

"What the hell are you doing here? How'd you find me?" Leon demands as you cut the restraints on his wrists.

Sarcastically, you ask him if that is how he greets you after you saved his ass from getting infected. "Hunnigan told me about your little stunt so she gave me your last known coordinates. I called your cell earlier which gave her a few seconds to find your general area. I followed the corpses, which is how I ended up here."

Before the conversation can go anywhere else, JD interrupts. "Woah! I knew American women were hot but seeing one of them in person is a whole lot better!"

You look at the punk male in disinterest. Comically, the guy tries his best to look cool but in fact, does the opposite. "So, you single?"

"Umm...I'm flattered but I'm actually getting married in a couple of months."

JD hunches over himself. "Awe man! Why are all the hot chicks always taken!"

"Probably 'cause she's with the hot guy next to you."

Confused, JD looks to his side and is face to face with Leon's brown sweater. Looking up, Leon is staring down at the short man with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Almost like he is challenging JD to say another stupid thing. The Eastern Slavic male nervously scratches the back of his head and whispers an apology to the American male.

Sighing, Leon tells JD that when he does decide to use the gun, to shoot the infected in the head for an instant kill. JD leads you and Leon further down the bunker and into a narrow hallway where a metal door is. Leon and JD try to pry the door open while you watch their backs. The grunts and noises from the door gain the infected's attention.

What creeps you out is that one of the infected's head slits open to reveal flesh-like tentacles. Leon calls out to you, telling you to get yourself on the other side of the door. A little annoyed that JD cannot force himself through the crack, you plant your foot on his back and manage to push him through the door. Leon tumbles inside the room after you and chains the door within a couple of seconds.

If you were not creeped out before, you definitely are now. When the three of you reach the surface, you end up witnessing how the citizens of this country are being infected. Like a scene from a sci-fi movie, an alien-looking creature is forced down a person's throat. Truly a parasite. The three of you take a quick break before reaching the cathedral. Uncharacteristically, Leon starts to once again, complain that he was shipped off here without anything to eat.

"Are you really that mad they didn't provide you with any breakfast? I get why you're pissed our vacation got cut short, but over breakfast?"

Leon shrugs his shoulders and looks at you like you are the crazy one. Then again, you are not surprised your fiance is bitching about not eating. The man gets hungry as fast as he gets hot. Seriously, if you are not blasting the AC at home, a puddle of sweat will form around Leon. Reaching into your vest, you pull out a wrapped snack.

Tossing it to him you say, "Here. Protein bar. Should hold you over for the next couple of hours." Leon thanks you a million times over, happy to finally have something in his stomach. You offer another bar to JD and he too thanks you for your generosity. You ask the two of them to fill you in on the missing details since you basically came to the country blinded.

When you and Leon eventually leave the cathedral thanks to JD's help, you end up meeting the woman who had Leon's heart long before you met him. A couple of minutes before meeting her, you told Leon to go ahead and go inside the parking garage. You will stay behind for a bit to make sure neither of you were followed. When you eventually go inside the parking garage, you spot Leon talking to a woman with short, black hair.

"So, shall we continue from that night?" She flirts.

Yes. You know who this woman is. In fact, you knew about her before you met your soon-to-be husband. Claire once told you about Leon when she used to crush on him. She would rant about how the DSO agent was practically wrapped around some other woman's finger. Who is this woman in question? Why, none other than the infamous Ada Wong. The woman that brings the ugly insecurities out of you.

"I don't think so, Ada. I don't know if you've heard but I'm getting married soon. Don't plan on fucking that up."

Ah, so the rumors are true. Who would have thought that the puppy she leashed years ago would slip off of its collar and run off to someone else?

"I heard. She must be something if she was able to steal you away." Ada taunts.

"She is. She's more than I could ever want and even a little more than that. She's the reason my endless cycle of hell has stopped. I'm not losing her." Leon wanted to add "And I was never yours to begin with," but he knew that was a lie. For the longest, Ada tugged at Leon's heart and even his soul. He could never get her out from the back of his mind even if he tried.

When he met you, that annoying gnat slowly started to disappear. You taught Leon how to live again, not just how to survive. When he was actually in D.C. and not somewhere else in the world, Leon looked forward to running with you and Shiloh every morning. Five days a week. To put it simply, Leon's hardened heart started to crack the more time he spent with you. There is no possible way to ever thank you for the light you bring to Leon's dark and lonely life.

Ada, as much as she hates to admit it, knows that Leon is telling the truth. He truly does cherish this woman. His eyes hold that conviction. She guesses that her game of cat and mouse with the former RPD is officially over. They both knew their past together would always be there, but now they would truly be going their separate ways. Her heart tugs a bit at the fact. Not that she would admit it out loud. She bids farewell to Leon before using her grappling gun to escape through the hole in the roof.

When Leon hears another pair of footsteps, he points his gun to his right, ready for another fight. He does not expect the love of his life to tackle him with so much force. Unknowingly, Leon cleared all of the insecurities you had about Ada. In fact, Leon would never know that you knew about his past with Ada or about her in general. Not even when he died as one of America's greatest heroes at the age of eighty-three.

When He Knew He Could Not Live Without His Sunshine

Leon knows how shitty his life has been since '98. Nothing seemed to be going right. In fact, it seemed that everything was going downhill since Raccoon. His apartment was bare as a result of how often Leon had to get up and leave at a moment's notice. Leon would drink his sorrows and pain away. He relied on alcohol, but now, he relies on you. A little too much he thinks but you do not mind. You know the shit he has seen and done. You know the shit he has to do to protect the innocent. You know the burdens Leon has to carry.

You make doing what he has to do a little bit easier every time he comes home. Leon used to wake up in an empty bed but now he wakes up to you sleeping next to him. Sometimes Shiloh will sleep between the two of you or favor one person over the other. On the rare occasions that he does get to sleep in, Leon loves to be woken up by you and Shiloh. You would have finished your morning workouts and have made breakfast. While Shiloh licks Leon's face, you kiss the one spot she missed, his lips. Probably because getting kissed on the lips by a dog is pretty gross, but you take what you can get.

Leon loves the quiet moments with you. The one where it seems like the world is in perfect harmony. No BOWs or maniacs wanting to turn the human race into the living dead. No orders from the president or the people under him. No guns. No explosions. Just you, him, and a cocker spaniel in the comforts of your shared home.

Leon loves it when the two of you cook together. You always seem to get a bit bitchy when things are not done your way in the kitchen (a trait that was passed down from your mother), but Leon deals with it. He tries to follow your instructions to the letter to make you proud. Even more so, he loves the end result. Sitting together at the table with delicious food the two of you made together.

Leon can list hundreds of reasons why he loves you, but it would never be enough. No list will ever be long enough for Leon to write down the different things he loves about you. About the things you bring into his life. His heart pounds whenever he thinks about you. He gets all giddy when he knows he is coming back home to you. He mourns the days when he has to leave because of some stupid assignment. It scares him whenever you put yourself in a battle against BOWs because you always have his back. Even if you hate BOWs as much as the next person.

The first time you shared an "I love you", Leon wanted to take you away to a secret location and live the rest of your lives there. Leon wants to be selfish and keep you all to himself, but then his sun will not be able to shine as brightly. Leon loves you. He desperately loves you. He will do just about any and everything to keep you by his side. Leon Scott Kennedy is hopelessly in love with you. It is the whole reason why he is at your childhood home in Georgia.

Knocking on the front door, he waits for one of your parents to open it. He called your parents a few days ago to tell them that he was coming to visit and asked if they could not tell you about it. Leon has just gotten back from a mission overseas so he looks a little roughed up, but he cannot let this opportunity slip. Your mother answers the door and lets Leon inside.

He is welcomed to a homemade meal, family style. A table set for three people. During the meal, your parents ask Leon what the hurry was. They worry that something has happened to you and Leon is here to bring them the horrible news.

"No. No. She's doing fine." Leon looks down at his watch. "In fact, she's probably on her way back to our place right now." The DSO agent knows your weekly schedule. He memorized it so he would always know the general area where he could find you if a disaster happened.

Leon looks directly at your father. "I came here to ask for your blessing to marry your daughter."

Yes, in the two years of knowing you and the year and a half of dating you, Leon Scott Kennedy wants to be with his sunshine for as long as time permits. His sunshine that gave his life anew. The sunshine that he loves dearly. His sunshine.

---

P.S. I wrote this in two days when I should be focusing on my class work. Whoops...Stay focused kids.

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jangmi-latte · 2 years ago

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Dating Lilia is pretty much dating a single dad. And I'm all for it. When he retires he'll live in a forest cottage with you and when you mention wanting kids (bio or adopted or BOTH) because you just love this single dad and want to raise kids with him and see how unconventional his methods are in person

something unimaginable sparked that's a whole 180 from how fluffy this ask is i'm sorry JWJGKJWKJ

knee ways, i'm seeing this in all pre-silver/sebek/malleus arc or they're just not here. so it's just you and lilia. that little cottage of his in the middle of the woods? he'll build and repair it as much as possible both with magic or with his own bare hands. war has done mental, physical, and magical damage on him so all he wants to do is just relax and reflect on everything that just happened.

it'll take quite some time for him to really know how to relax and not just suddenly jolt out of sleep because, not only with his fae senses, he still got the adrenaline of war still running through his veins. most especially since he's really protective of you? but lilia can adjust fairly quickly so when he finally gets the well needed retirement he deserves, that's when it dawns on him on just how quiet the house is. the size can fit at least a small family of four and there's only two of you so when you both discuss the want to expand your family, this fae is more than thrilled.

he's a fae, he has lived centuries, and he likes being in a familial group so he doesn't care whether it be biological or adopted. it's rare for faes to reproduce biologically, so if you do indeed have at least one biological child, he's still has to get used to treating her/him like a LEAF. if you adopted one that's already fairly near the toddler age, you need to constantly remind him that that's a CHILD not baul.

but, trust in maleficia when she made lilia vanrouge to look after the country, that this man is probably one of the best fathers among the cast. even with his ethically questioning methods, he's there, a father. those sudden jolts in between sleep? it's back but this time your child is probably disturbing his rest because they're hungry or lilia nearly dropped her/him mid-sleep. they'll be fine.

him feeding a 5-month old using a mug? he's trying. him leaving the kid in a basinet outside under the sun while he does the laundry and eventually forgetting about them? thank maleficia it's not summer. him bathing the child in the lake nearby? great seven the kid eventually learned how to swim at the ripe age of 2.

he'll be very affectionate but can be quite strict. he'll let them have a childhood, but still make them remember that they're in briar valley — anything can pounce. if you had kids post-war where everything's still calming down, best believe he's using his authority to just protect. not to the point of being chokingly authoritative. he's an understanding man and he wants the best for his family.

and i'm sure his children will be proud one day to just boast that their father is THE lilia vanrouge, former general of briar valley.

but that doesn't excuse the fact he's allowed in the kitchen. you take the pan, honey.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #customer service #dang more word vomit but hey it's just facts #the importance here is that his presence is known by the kids no matter the method of parenting #and he knows he's a DAD not a soldier anymore

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quillsareswords · 2 years ago

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How about a Damian x reader where the reader is friends with Jon and even though she doesn’t like him, Damian gets jealous and it ends in him confessing. And maybe a kiss 🤔🤔🤔🤔

A/N: ...these were all supposed to be under like 400 words...I looked up six hours and 2,520 words later and here we are. anyway sry no kith bc I didn't feel like it 💅

WARNINGS: misunderstanding, language, argument, raised voices

MASTER LIST in BIO

You're nicer to Jon than anybody else you work with, including him. You go out of your way to talk to Jon. You ask him if he wants anything from the vending machine. You laugh at his awful puns.

He hates to say it irritates him, because Jon is a very kind person, and he deserves the same treatment. He deserves soft touch and secret jokes and a bright smile.

He deserves you. Out of everyone in the room at one of these inane hero mixers, Jon deserves you most.

Despite this, the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

(Nevermind that you pick him immediately for missions, or that you already know what he wants from the vending machine and you memorized how he takes his coffee, or that you're the only one who laughs when he cracks the darkest joke anyone in the room can stomach. That probably means nothing.)

He plants himself in the farthest corner of the room and sulks. He catches your eyes a few too many times, so he looks anywhere else. At anyone else.

He decided a few weeks ago that avoiding you would be for the best. Hopefully, his feelings for you would wither without the sunlight of your presence. Hopefully, the bright petals of his heart would lose some vibrance and stop distracting his brain.

It's a ridiculous hope, really. It's been months since he realized these feelings, and he hasn't yet seen a day he wanted you any less. At this rate, he's positive he could lock himself away on the other side of the planet for a few years and still be able to pick your voice out of a crowd.

He'd tried to show you. In his own, roundabout way. He'd let you catch him staring. He'd seek you out when he could. He'd try to brush his hand against yours when you walked together. He wrote embarrassing poetry and hid them among your things. He did things he had seen in movies where the guy always gets the girl, because he didn't know what else to do.

He did everything he could do, except tell you to your face. He tried, once. He could bring himself to do it. He'll never admit fear, but he didn't like to think about what would happen if you didn't feel the same way.

"What are you brooding about now?"

He jerks, scowling already. "Nothing," he snaps. "I'm not brooding."

He very intentionally doesn't look at you, leaning against the wall beside him, but he does catch your reaction. He doesn't have to see you to hear the pause in your breathing, the hesitation before you reply. He's surprised you. He's not normally so curt with you for no reason, and you both know that. If he focuses, he can feel the quick once-over you give him, as if you could find that reason somewhere on his person.

"Drag of a party, isn't it?" you try again. "I tried to sneak you one of those little breadsticks at the snack bar, but I think Impulse would've bitten me."

(He had seen you, actually. Superboy at your side, chattering about something he couldn't hear, you'd skulked around, waiting for an opening, but Impulse was prepared to die defending those breadsticks. He must have skipped breakfast.)

He doesn't reply. He keeps his arms crossed, continues staring past the clusters of chattering superheroes, out the Watchtower windows. If this had been weeks ago, he would have brushed it off and told you that he'd fight for them himself if he got hungry.

You're a strong person. You've drawn lines in the sand for yourself. If you don't like the way someone treats you, you'll avoid them as much as you possibly can. You won't stand around and take it. You told him that much to his face the first time you met him: be nice to be, I'll be nice to you; pull that attitude with me again and I'll let the next guy shoot you in the face. It's how you treat everyone. He respected you for it, which is how you wedged yourself into his good graces in the first place.

Therefore, if he goes out of his way to upset you now, you'll avoid him too.

There's that bitter taste again.

"Is everything okay?" You lean forward, trying to get within his line of sight, or to get a better look at his face. "Seems like you're in a worse mood than usual."

"It's no business of yours," he grunts. "Go find someone else to pester."

At the very edge of his vision, your expression ripples. His resolve does, too. You take a moment before you speak again. "Did I piss you off?"

No. You never piss me off. I'd rather talk to you for a day than anyone else for a lifetime. He swallows.

"Listen, if you had a bad morning or something–"

"I thought I told you to find anyone else to bother."

Bother is a low blow and he knows it. You had a boyfriend last summer who'd called you that just before you broke it off with him. You confided just how much it stung to Damian after he caught you sniffling on a rooftop in Gotham.

He thinks it might have been too far, but isn't that the point? To jab at you just enough that you abandon all efforts at a friendship with him?

Your grip on his arm catches him off guard, and you take the opportunity to drag him to one of the doors at either end of the room.

You shove him out into the empty hall and make sure the steel slab latches behind you. "What is your problem?" you demand, planting yourself between him and the door.

"I don't know what you're talking about–"

"Don't play stupid, I know you aren't." Your tone is metallic in his ears, cold and hard. "You're being a dick. I wanna know why."

He is being a dick. "I am not."

You stare at him. He meets it head on, and realizes that it's the first time in the entire conversation that he's looked at you.

You're good at hiding things from people. You've got a knack for screaming internally and looking bored externally. It doesn't matter what the situation is, you always look like you've got it all under control.

He can see in that one look that you definitely aren't. Your breath is quicker than normal, your eyes are fractions wider, your posture is off-center. Your expression is wide open, waiting to receive whatever excuse he lobbies at you. You're distraught about this.

A realization lodges in his throat. Either you're so upset by him that you can't mask it, or you trust him enough that you aren't holding up that mask at all.

He looks away. Shakes his head. "I don't have time for this."

"Oh, what? Have a busy day of standing alone in a corner and staring off into the distance?" You cross your arms. "If you didn't feel like being pestered, why did you bother showing up?"

It wasn't his choice, actually. He knew you'd be here. His father tricked him anyway. Told him it was, League business, won't take more than an hour. You wanted to see the Watchtower again anyway, right?

You don't give him time to respond. "If you have a problem with me, say that. Don't talk to me like I'm some idiot who can't take a hint. Especially in front of a bunch of coworkers."

"Fine; I have a problem."

"Great, fantastic! He does have a problem." with you." You throw your hands up like you've just discovered the cure to dementia. "What's the problem, Wayne?"

He glares at you. You don't look so out of sorts now, so he holds it. "I'm sure you'd like to know."

You set your hands on your hips. "Well I'd like to know if I can fix it."

So would I. "You want to fix it?" He starts heatedly, scraping together some barbed speech about how you're too focused on what others think of you, but you beat him.

"Yes!" Your expression opens again, like clouds parting for sunlight—except, instead of brightness, he only sees the near-desperate eyes of a woman trying to salvage a friendship she didn't even know was crumbling. "You're one of my best friends, Damian. I don't want to lose you over something stupid if I don't have to."

One of my best friends. One of. Friends. He hangs on your every word, loses sleep over the slightest touch, forgets where he is when he looks into your eyes for too long—and he doesn't even rank at the top of your list. He's not your best friend or your boyfriend. He's one of a few.

On any other day, he'd take a deep breath and remind himself that you don't owe him anything. It's his problem that he did the stupid thing and fell– caught feelings, not yours.

But today? It sets him off.

"I suppose it bothers you so much. Don't you have anywhere better to be? I'm sure Jon would appreciate your company far more than I could," he snarls.

Any hurt in your eyes fizzles into confusion. "What? What are you–"

"You're right, I'm not stupid. I'm not blind, either." His voice is rising, but he's still got enough sense to keep this as private as he can, surrounded by super-powers. "I see how you act with him. I know you love him."

You reel. You can't help laughing, breathy and incredulous. "Love–? What in the fresh hell are you talking about?"

"Don't try to deny it."

"Uh, I am going to deny it because it isn't true."

He steps forward, as if he has a chance at intimidating you into admission. "You're kinder to him than anyone else. You treat him like he hung the sun. You go looking for him first at every opportunity." He's gesturing with his hands, too. "You make it so obvious, I don't know how I'd didn't see it before. Maybe I am blind after all."

"You're so wrong," tell him. You're uneasy again. Twisting away from him by fractions, inches. Just enough to be doing it subconsciously, like a guilty man in an interrogation room. You still don't back away from him, don't let him snatch the reins of the situation. All of this only fuels him more.

"You aren't stupid either. I know that. You know that." He stops for a breath, just one, and you see just how hard he's breathing

He's never been this agitated by something like this before. It's true, when he's pent up and angry about something he can't simply remedy, he goes looking for fights to pick and outlets to unleash upon. But he's never found that in you. His indirect anger has almost always spared you, a few sharp words aside.

"I'm not saying that I do feel for Jon," you interrupt, "but if I did; why would it bother you this much?"

He's never cared before. You know he hasn't—you've gone out of your way to make try to make him jealous once or twice, talking about boys you have liked or flirting with someone right in front of him, and it's never gotten you more than a raised eyebrow or an eye roll.

Something intuitive, grown from too long spent at his side, flutters to life in your mind. An idea, a theory, a hope.

For the first time since you met him, he stammers. He trips over his words once, twice, then promptly snaps his mouth shut. On the outside, his face pinches angrily, lips pressed together grimly. Inside, he screams into the void and scrambles for a handful of words he can stitch into a decent excuse. All the vocabulary of five different languages, half the vocabulary of four more, and all he can come up with are incoherent expletives.

And like the kind, patient person you are—for him, at least—you wait for him. You stand there after he's run his stupid mouth and acted like some bratty elementary schooler, and you wait for him to figure out an explanation instead of turning away from him. He told you he didn't want to talk to you and instead of telling him to get over it or writing him off completely, you tried to fix it.

It sucks all the fight right out of him.

Finally, he says your name in a way that makes your lungs seize. "You have to know," he says quietly. "You must."

You think you might. "Know what?"

Five steps away from you feels too far, so he makes it two. Not enough to crowd you, not enough to hide. "You really don't have feelings for Jon?"

You chuckle. "Jon's…nice. He's really nice, and he's a close friend, but…he's just not the guy for me," you admit. "And for the record, I definitely don't think he hung the sun."

It earns you a little smile. Small victories, you suppose.

You're still watching him expectantly. He could lie his way out of this. He could tell you that he thought Jon was cheating on you, frame it as though he was trying to save you from heartbreak. He could tell you a lot of things, frame himself in a lot of ways.

But he doesn't want to do this again. You didn't have feelings for Jon, but you just as easily could have. You'll have other men groveling at your feet eventually. You'll choose one of them, eventually. He has a chance, right now.

He takes a breath to steady himself. It's full of your favorite fragrance, and he finds that instead of making him any more nervous, it becomes a little easier to breathe.

He thinks of all those terribly unrealistic movies his sisters and Dick watch. He thinks of making out in the rain and dramatic confessions and passionate kisses. He tries to imagine himself there instead. He tries to put together something that you'll remember forever, even if you turn him down.

But he's standing here, looking at you, waiting for him like you always do.

"I'm in love with you," he says. "I'm–...I love you."

It's strangely freeing to say out loud. He anticipated anxiety. In every scenario that ran through his mind, he'd been terrified. In the worst cases, there had been tears or gunfire or both. He'd say it, in whatever way he could conjure up, and it would feel like he was stepping off a cliff.

Now that he's here, and he's said it, you're smiling at him like you're welcoming him home.

"Oh, Damian," you whisper, and your eyes are glittering like a reflection of a sunrise, and your palms are so warm on his shoulders. "I love you, too."

#QFWW #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #quillsfebuarywritingweek #damian wayne #still not rly happy with this but eh

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