#sorry this is kinda late lmao i got busy

[wyvern-of-whimsy]

Youve got some actual banger art here bestie!!! May i request a lil crumb of moss etho arctic bdubs? Theyre so silly and everything to me :>

Team tall and short <3 (bdubs is the tall one)

Bdubs's design was very fun to do, very small boi

Idk how well it came thru, but Etho's vest is supposed to be made of moss, and so are his mittens. Tbh it just looks like my normal hc for etho but with a green fluff collar.

(This ask is from the hybrid hermit fanon swap, feel free to send me more asks abt any hermit)

[carcarrot]

i should also tell you that one time at work when takeout pizza was brought in for family meal lunch that it was absolutely awful. i work in manhattan

[timmyyyturner]

Dm's: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

TW: Alcohol.

jasontodd: I'm in love with you.

y/nl/n: i literally have no idea who you are.

It started a few months ago when you were followed by some random guy on Instagram. He had a racking of 28 Million followers and you were just a girl with 2K posting GRWM's and make up tutorials.

jasontodd: you looked so pretty in your livestream like MARRY ME TF??? ♡ liked by y/nl/n

y/nl/n: thank you, baby ♡ liked by jasontodd

You didn't get why you were so special.

y/nl/n: *voice memo* I'm serious like is there a reason you think I'm soooo pretty? ♡ liked by jasontodd

jasontodd: Damn. Even your voice is hot.

jasontodd: I'm sorry for inhaling the same oxygen as you🙏

y/nl/n: LMAO

It was kinda cute, kinda stalkery. Every single thing you posted he liked, seconds after. Praising you like you were an absolute goddess. At first you thought maybe it was a fake account but no, he was the real deal (he sent you a picture of his ID with blurred out details). When you Googled his name, you didn't expect his adoptive dad to be the BRUCE WAYNE. You might not be Wayne obsessed but everyone in Gotham know who Bruce Wayne was.

jasontodd: You busy??????

y/nl/n: no, why?

It was late almost 3 in the morning and you'd been occupied by messaging some guy who slid into your dm's six months ago. You were surprised when a incoming video call notification popped up on your phone. You were hesitant to but answered it. "Hello?" His camera was moving a lot but it was quite on his side, you could hear how heavy his footsteps were. You were laying in bed cozied up holding your pillow in your arms, another propping up the phone.

"Gimme a second." You watched him set the camera up in his bathroom, toothbrush hunging from his mouth. "There." He continued brushing his teeth. "Where are you going dressed so handsomely?" He snickered. "Well, pretty lady. It's not where I am heading but where I've been. I just got home from a friends after party."

"Probably using the art of back bending to bring home chicks?" You tilted your head. "Unless the chick was you, pretty, Ion want her near me." You smiled, He yawned causing you to do the same. "Dick is making me brush my teeth cause I threw up in his car and now my breath stinks." You nodded, listening to his little rant. "He's getting me a bucket so I don't choke on my vomit in my sleep, how many people do you think died like that?"

"Well-" You attempted to answer but he cut you off unintentionally by throwing up off screen, thankfully before returning to the screen, rinsing his mouth and rebrushing his teeth. "Who's Azealia Banks? Is she a influencer?" You smiled. "She's in the music industry, a real controversial person." He hummed.

"Who are you talking to?" Jason picked up his phone. "My girlfriend and you can't see her cause she's mine, your brain will hurt with beauty." Jason kissed the screen before you heard Dick approach him. "C'mon Jay get in bed now."

"No." You watched Dick attempt drag Jason— who was throwing lowsy kicks and punches at Dick— to bed. You giggled watching the camera angle change in the hands of drunk Jason before the phone fell somewhere. "Get. In. Bed."

"No." It was funny hearing Jason have an actual sibling bond. "Fine, I'll just call in the big guns. ALFRED!" You could hear Jason mumble a 'fine' before a ruffling of blankets as he got in bed. "NOT ON YOUR STOMACH!" Dick yelled, picking up the phone, looking at you. You waved at him sweetly. "Jason, there's no way you pulled her. She's so pretty and nice and you're... Jason." Jason snatched the phone frowning. "I don't like you." Jason laid on his side, Dick was on his way out of the room before turning to Jason to say something. "Hey, Y/n, do you wanna get married tommorow?"

"Uhm, I'll discuss this with sober you, okay baby." Jason hummed. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" You smiled. "Okay." Dick smiled leaving the room.

He fell asleep a little over a hour later. You pressed a kiss to your screen before hanging up and going to bed. He woke up with a throbbing headache. He grabbed his phone seeing you posted on your story 30 minutes ago. He opened it seeing a picture of him and you on a video call. Did he call you last night?

"don't go! what if I choke on my drunk vomit and die?!" - jason todd. He chuckled reading that. He liked the story immediately getting a reply.

y/nl/n: alive then?

He smiled.

jasontodd: Sorry about last night lol.

y/nl/n: lol don't worry about it :))!

After that you sent him a picture of lots of you cooking, which he liked. What you did next though surprised him.

y/nl/n: 📍live location

y/nl/n: join me? we can discuss our marriage, boyfriend ;)

He never got out of bed faster.

[transmascaraa]

Hi! It's 🍓 anon again >_<

May I request Ga ming, Freminet, Thoma, Aether, Scaramouche + whoever you wanna add with a S/O whos kinda a depressed bed rotter?

yk, doesn't really get out of bed, doesn't take care of themselves

example: brushing their hair, their teeth, eating, cleaning (they don't know how to cook or do a lot for themselves anymore)

I've been kinda a bed rotter these months (few years) it's actually really embarrassing being in this state 😭😭

multiple characters headcannons!

bed rotter.

characters: gaming, freminet, thoma, aether, wanderer x gn!reader

author's note: hi long time no see(it's been a few days)🥰 sorry for the lack of posts lately lmfao i kinda had basically NO motivation for writing whatsoever but i'm back for this one now‼️(i was busy with obsessing over the natlan characters for half of the time yes) so like i hope you enjoy this rn lol ^^ (🍓anon you're not alone in that state😔 it happens)

✷ Gaming

-WILL take care of you if you won't

-didn't get out of bed to eat?

-breakfast in bed, dinner in bed, lunch in bed just for you.

-he will brush your hair for you. (if you have longer hair/hair that can be brushed lol and if not, ignore this lmao😭)

-don't feel motivated to get up? he'll do his best to motivate you to get you out of bed, but if it doesn't work, he'll try again tomorrow.

-he never loses hope like he's literally sure of himself that he will help you one day

-and it works because he's literally the sweetest bf ever for caring about you

-if you don't wash your teeth or something, he WILL offer to wash your teeth in bed somehow for you but sometimes that offer was literally what made you get up

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

☆ Freminet

-again, will be absolutely the most caring and understanding bf of all time

-problems with brushing your teeth? okay, you don't have to do it immediately. if too much time passes he'll motivate you out of bed.

-not eating? he's gonna cook you the best food ever and bring it to you in bed.

-and he'll even bring some really tasty food from the house of the hearth if it ends up being really good for you.

-if your room is a mess, judging by the type of person he is, he'll clean it for you.

-but he won't kill himself for you, instead, he will try to motivate you throughout doing things that make you happy like drawing in front of you if you like drawing and stuff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Thoma

-literally will do anything and everything to make sure you feel okay

-trying to motivate you through sending you some typa tiktoks like "dancing in the rain together<3" with the caption "we should do this💕" or stuff that is very wholesome WHILE not being in bed and rotting basically

-i mean it did help quite a few times

-about the food part, you know who thoma is. he will cook for you BUT sometimes he will force you to get out of bed just to eat with him in the kitchen

-that's a really big thing actually (to get you out of your bed at all) and he's proud of it.

-will try to motivate you to brush your teeth by walking in your room while he's brushing his(i have no idea why i js think he might)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Aether

-okay YES

-y'know how thoma got you out of bed by making you come to the kitchen to eat sometimes? yeah? well aether does it ALL the time.

-literally there isn't a time he will bring you food in your bed unless you've stopped bed rotting.

-brushing teeth? he will not let you come out of the bathroom when you go in to do literally anything(might force you to take a shower sometimes as well)

-if your room is messy, he'll just quietly scold you to himself while cleaning everyone for you, then afterwards confronting you about it

-another way to also get you out of your bed is him calling you to the living room to see some random video/tiktok instead of just sending it to you(it usually works)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

★ Wanderer

-does NOT tolerate this shit

-nuh uh not in the LEAST bit

-wanna eat instead of literally starve to death? come to the kitchen yourself(the best food is waiting you there)

-not showering and/or not brushing your teeth? he will scold you and insult you(lovingly) until you get up and do everything to be clean in the bathroom.

-messy room? standing next to your door with his arms crossed looking at you as if you were his 4th betrayal hoping that you care for him enough to do something for HIM if not for yourself.

-but like deep down, which he won't admit, if you don't do something he tells you to because you feel that bad and unmotivated, he might let it slide and tell you beautiful things while you're asleep on his chest.

-he loves you no matter how big of a bed rotter you are tho

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

woah i love scara's part

anyways i liked it as a whole lol

i hope you guys like it too^^

| @mariaace <3

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (5) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n formula 1's 'newest' WAG makes her race debut and gives her cousin a headache

i did actually screech like a parrot watching this race and then immediately adjusted some of my predictive writings

masterlist | last part | part 5 | next part

TWITTER

F1 WAGS @f1wagnews · 3h Selina Bui spotted around the paddock!

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h the royal couple of australia (i don't make the rules 🤷‍♀️)

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2h why... did she wear blue...? she knows basic color theory... right??? ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h i completely missed that... SILENA??? ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2h HER ASS IS NOT ENDING UP IN THE PAPAYA GARAGE IN THAT DRESS 😭 SHE'S NOT THAT DUMB IS SHE???

MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 26m SCREECHING RN we used to dream of these days

↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 25m '2-time grammy award winner' HELL YEAH SHE IS ↳ MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 26m the most employed wag in formula 1 🫶 (lily is a close 2nd)

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 13m HELP HAS ANYONE ELSE SEEN THAT CLIP OF LINA AND THE CHINESE INTERVIEWER 😭 ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 13m [translation] interviewer: this is your cousin's 3rd f1 season, how come you've never come support him? lina: he said he doesn't like my nagging interviewer: then will you be supporting zhou guanyu in shanghai? his home race could use some family support lina: even if he asked me to visit, there's nothing i can do, i'm in shenzhen performing a sold-out concert ↳ clovie @ luvyouvie · 7m she's so done lmao what can she do if zhou doesn't want her there ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 5m lina: i'm fucking busy too, have you considered that??

INSTAGRAM

selinabui just posted to their story

(translation: Brother Yu [Zhou Guanyu], come and save me)

TWITTER

rubyyy @piastriworld · 2h oh wait shit she's cute as fuck what ↳ rubyyy @piastriworld · 2h fyi this is abt lina bui ↳ rubyyy @piastriworld · 2h i was kinda expecting a full-on rockstar but she's super soft???

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 1h the same woman not even 12hrs later

clara @ zgy24 · 37m i do actually think it's insane we got an 'oscar piastri's partner' graphic before we got a 'zhou guanyu's cousin' graphic ↳ clara @ zgy24 · 37m selina dear, we know you can't stand him but we're sure he'd appreciate it if you popped by the kick garage on your way over 🫶 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 17m you sound like my mother but i'll have you know he sent me this:

很油腻 directly translates to 'very greasy' but it basically means 'ew' or 'cringe'

↳ clara @ zgy24 · 15m LMAO OH MY BAD ↳ xixi²⁴ ⁴⁴ @grandegrid · 14m the sheer amount of info you get from these two ss 😭 like ofc they use wechat, zhou guanyu sounds like an annoying older brother, she calls him 鱼哥, she trolls the emperor nickname, THE PURE SIBLING DYNAMIC IS EVERYTHING ↳ ZG24 future WDC · @zhoupdates · 14m zhou cousins crumbs 💚

lina !!! @EB_selina · 29m mistakes were made, the blue dress and orange-- sorry, PAPAYA headphones are not a look 💀 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 28m wonder if it's too late to sneak into the sauber garage... ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 12m i'm actually wheezing at this bc that's EXACTLY what my oomf said when ur pics first dropped ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 10m well i wish ur oomf gave me a heads-up before i left the hotel

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by zhouguanyu24 and 112,385 others

selinabui went on a tour around the paddock (finally visited the man racing with my number 🫶) tagged: zhouguanyu24 and logansargeant

pi4str1 babygirl, i think you wandered the wrong way

pastry81 oscar's girlfriend meeting oscar's boyfriend

zhouguanyu24 我给了你一个愿望 trans: i gave you one job/i had one wish ↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 你是不是我的亲表哥！ trans: are you even my cousin!

logansargeant This feels like an achievement ↳ selinabui @ logansargeant it is, stay slaying cap, so glad to see you race today 🫶

no2argeant logan getting a double feature over her cousin mhm those are mutuals via oscar frfr (loscar and oscalina and... lolina?) ↳ selinabui @no2argeant we use selogan but lolina is 100x cuter

TWITTER

piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 3h HELP SHE ACTUALLY SNUCK INTO THE SAUBER GARAGE

xixi²⁴ ⁴⁴ @grandegrid · 2h both cousins are equally unserious bc why did i remember the 'who's the most famous person in ur contacts' thing kick sauber did and why did zhou say jj lin when his very famous GRAMMY WINNING cousin seems to regularly bug him on the daily ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h he probably forgot lmao it's like she's not famous in his eyes "oh lina? u mean my annoying little cousin? oh right, she's a rockstar or smth"

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h ok i'm convinced she's gonna stay in the williams garage now like it's almost guaranteed she's not headed back to mclaren ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h oscar, honey, come over and remove ur girlfriend from the williams garage, she's yapping with logan ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 8m I JUST SAW LINA'S POST 💀💀 y'know she's right, lolina is cuter than selogan but now i need to know how much logan's been 3rd wheeling

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 16m oscar checking his socials and it's his fans debating on the best ship name for his girlfriend and bestie

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h realising that lina being at the race means we're probably not gonna get her entertaining af f1 live-tweets

↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h no joke, we missed out on aus gp live-tweets bc she was flying to jakarta but the saudi gp tweets gave me LIFE

INSTAGRAM/MESSAGES

from the phone of logan sargeant

TWITTER

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 39m red flag??? already??? we just started??? ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 34m they cut to lina in the mclaren garage and i'm wheezing she looks so amused by the turn of events 😭

jess @OPIXSTRI · 3m oh they knew what they were doing cutting to selina bui after zhou guanyu retired ↳ jess @OPIXSTRI · 3m new f1 reaction pic just dropped guys, perfectly summarises the kick sauber saga

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2m obsessed with her refusal to wear the orange headphones genuinely think she would rather go deaf than have those pictures circulate the internet

xixi²⁴ ⁴⁴ @grandegrid · 5m we got the zhou guanyu's cousin graphic but at what cost

↳ Stake F1 Team KICK Sauber @stakef1team_ks · 18m We're sorry to let you down 😔 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 17m i don't care which long-suffering intern this is. get out. ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 20m lmao lina's sauber pit stop tweets vs oscar's f3 drs tweets, fight 🤣

INSTAGRAM

selinabui Suzuka, Japan

liked by eb_jonno and 200,371 others

selinabui loved the experience, will not be going to another one bc i'm 94% sure i jinxed EVERYONE i hold dear in this sport - stay safe out there 👍 see y'all in seoul in 2-3 business days <3 tagged: mclaren and oscarpiastri

logansargeant You did *not* jinx anyone ↳ selinabui @ logansargeant logan, honey, i'm a bit depressed about you but sure man, whatever you say :'(

ninisf1diary how'd you find your first ever live race? ↳ selinabui @ninisf1diary very fun, loved the bit where oscar got to hop back into the garage after the first lap

mclaren Are we still gonna see you in Imola 🥺 ↳ selinabui @ mclaren i think oscar is gonna drag me over kicking and screaming but i guess i'll be there

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Slutmas Day 6

Stressed & Insecure (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Mommy kink, talk of poor mental heath, angsty at first, Matt being insecure, talk of body dysmorphia, friends to lovers, cockwarming, oral, whiny Matt

“You’re such a good boy for letting mommy take care of you like this”

Matt’s pov

Everything sucks right now, I’m so busy with work, it’s taking up all of my time, and everything going on right now backs up to that. I was purely stressed from work originally, which I know might seem easy, but don’t be fooled because it’s not. We’ve had so many meetings for sponsored content, videos, guest appearances, and merch designing, on top of filming for our YouTube and the Podcast. I’m genuinely just drained, my anxiety is high, I can’t sleep, and I’m overall in a bad mood.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘why not just jack off?’ well that’s because I can’t. I guess with being stressed and overwhelmed by everything, my cock just won’t get hard. It probably doesn’t help that my body is constantly getting hated on because of my weight, it makes me really insecure and uncomfortable with myself and my body. I was sitting at my desk doing some more online work and it was pissing me off, I’m so frustrated! I’m just doing so much overthinking and it’s making me stressed, overwhelmed, and insecure.

Just as I threw my notebook across the room there was a small knock and Chris popped his head in. “Matt, are you alright? Do you need anything?” Chris asked, knowing I wasn’t in the best mental state. “I’m fine, I just want to be alone” I sighed back, “Are you still coming to Larray’s house with us tonight?” I completely forgot about that. Chris looked a bit disappointed by my answer but he understood, “Nah I’m just gonna stay here, ‘m stressed and overwhelmed right now so I won’t be any fun” I said before Chris closed the door.

That was my insecurities talking, I always found myself rather boring and unenthusiastic when I’m in these moods. It had been about an hour of trying to get hard and then sitting in my chair with my head in my hands. My door slowly creeped open and I immediately assumed it was Chris or Nick. “Get the fuck out of my room!” I yelled, turning around to be met with my best friends confused face. “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” Y/n said quite nervously. I slammed my fist down on my desk before completely losing it, hot tears rolling down my face.

1 hour earlier

Y/n’s pov

I was at a nail appointment when I got a text message, I was already done with my fingers and in the chair for my toes.

iMessage start at 5:02pm

Chrisizzle🍊

bro are you busy

Y/n/n🪼

i’m getting my toes done rn

why

Chrisizzle🍊

at 5:30 me and nick are going to larray’s for the night

so i wanted to ask you a favor

yk how matt’s been kinda moody lately?

well today he’s really stressed and sad so he’s in a bad mood and i don’t want him to be alone tonight so can you head over afterwards and chill with him?

Y/n/n🪼

you literally just set up a playdate for your child lmao

but yeah i’ll go over there, i’ve missed my matty poo

Chrisizzle🍊

wow but you don’t miss me

that one hurt Y/n/n 🥲

anyways lmk when you get to our house bc we leave in 15

Y/n/n🪼

awe of course i miss you too sizzle 🤍

i’m abt to pay then I’ll head over

Chrisizzle🍊

don’t call me sizzle

*Y/n/n🪼 disliked this message*

iMessage ends at 5:37pm

The message had been from one of my best friends, Chris, he asked if I would go hang with his triplet bother, Matt, for tonight. I know he’s been getting a lot of hate about his attitude/weight and has been down the past 2 or 3 weeks, so I was hoping to cheer him up. I drove directly to the boys house after paying for my nails since I had a bunch of essentials over there and didn’t need anything from home.

I let myself in with my key and walked up to Matt’s room, which groans of frustration could be heard coming from. I lightly knocked before entering his room, as I was reclosing the door Matt yelled. “Get the fuck out of my room!” he said angrily, Matt’s never yelled at me before and he looked so pissed off that I got a little nervous.

I quickly replied with “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” he looked at me for a second before I saw his face change to one of pain, hurt, and anxiety. Matt slammed his fist onto his desk yelling “Fuck!” before choking out into sobs.

His whole body was shaking and he slid out of his chair onto the floor, something he does when he’s really, really upset. I immediately ran over to sit next to him, wrapping my arms around his shaking figure. “I’m sorry! They hate me and I’m sorry!” he blurted out, causing me to be a bit confused as Matt’s hands desperately clung onto my shirt.

“It’s okay Matt, let it all out. You’re safe honey, I’ve got you-“ I was cut off by Matt pulling away from my shirt and basically screamed out in pain. “I don’t know what the fuck I did! Y/n, what’s wrong with me!? A-Am I not good enough!? I’m too skinny, I try to eat more but I can’t gain weight, I fucking hate my body! All I keep doing is disappointing everyone, Y/n I-I don-“ he started spiraling into a panic attack and I was worried, I have never seen Matt this bad before.

I didn’t know what else to do so I pushed past my own anxieties and kissed him. I cupped both of his cheeks and smashed our lips together, Matt was shocked at first so he didn’t kiss back but once he realized what was happening, he kissed back. I pulled away and Matt’s lips tried to chase mine before he opened his eye.

“W-What was that for?” he asked, a bit breathless from his previous breakdown. I suddenly felt shy so I looked down, “I uh- I didn’t know how else to get you to stop talking” I said, nervously playing with my fingers. “Oh, well thanks?” he said in a questioning tone, “Did you mean what you said about your body? Do you really think that?” I softly asked.

Matt groaned and stood up, offering me his hand, “I don’t want to talk about it but yes, I do hate my body” he mumbled as I too stood up. We made our way over to his bed and laid there in silence for a few minutes. I rolled over to my side facing Matt “Have you tried cumming?” I questioned quietly, “What!?” he rolled to face me as well, confused by what I just said.

“You know, because you’re stressed. I think I read somewhere that having an orgasm helps to relieve stress” Matt’s face was now painted red. He rolled over to be flat on his back again, “I’ve tried but I can’t get hard” he exhaled deeply. “Oh… I could try to help if you want” I offered, chewing on my nails, Matt turned to face me again, “Help.. me get… Help me get hard?” he questioned nervously.

We both had blush covering our faces at this point, “Yeah, then I can go chill in Nicks room and you can jerk off” I smiled shyly. “I mean that could work but I don’t want to be naked if you have clothes on” “You don’t have to be naked, you just have to trust me” “I-I trust you, how do we start though?” we conversed. I took a moment to think before asking, “Do you want to make out first, I know I’m like a lot bigger than you so I don’t know if it would be a problem for me to sit on your lap. Is it a problem?” I asked self-consciously as we both sat up.

Matt looked at me with an unamused look, “If that’s your way of making me feel worse about my body, it worked because your body is amazing” he huffed out, avoiding looking at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way” I said with a sad smile, upset that I hurt Matts feelings. “I know you didn’t but my body is like the main reason I cant get hard. I don’t like looking at myself naked, it shows off too much of what’s wrong with me” he replied.

It was silent again for a few minute until I broke the silence again, “I think it’s hot” “What?” Matt looked at me confused. “Your body, I think it’s hot” I smirked, “You think so?” “I know so, don’t you ever notice me staring at you when you’re shirtless or only wearing your boxers?” I teased some more. “I haven’t noticed actually, however, I have noticed you’re not on my lap yet” Matt pouted, pulling me onto his lap.

I was about to say something but was cut off by Matt grabbing the side of my face/neck and pulled me into a sweet kiss that quickly turned needy. I pulled back for a second to catch my breath, “Shit, I’m sorry! I’m just so touch starved and crave physical affection. You were gonna say something?” he panicked. “It’s okay, I know that physical touch is your love language, it’s one of the things I like about you. I forgot what I was going to say but I can tell you I’ll kiss you again” I giggled.

With that, Matt pulled my face to his again and this time the kiss was soft, yet also rough and needy. I had my hands wrapped around Matt’s neck, but his laid awkwardly at his sides, almost as if he’s scared to touch me. I pulled back from the kiss to grab his wrist and mumbled something against his lips. “You can touch me you know” I smirked as I placed Matt’s hands on my waist and went back to kissing him.

Matt’s hands quickly slid down and tightly gripped onto my hips, slowly starting to rock me back and forth. I started feeling his cock get hard and once I could tell he was fully hard, I stopped everything which caused Matt to let out a displeased whine. “Mmh why’d you stop?” he pouted, “Because you’re hard now, which means it’s my queue to leave” I said while trying to get up.

Matt held my hips down and begged, “Please don’t go! I-I don’t think I’ll be able to make myself cum, me being alone with my naked body sounds like a bad dream” he sighed. Piggybacking off what was just said he added, “W-Would you please m-make me feel good? I’ll let you have your way with me as long as it’s not super rough because I’m not in the mood for that” his eyes got a shade or two darker.

“Yeah, I can give you head if you want or you can sit back, relax and enjoy the full sub treatment” “Does the full sub treatment include sex? Because I’ve never been the submissive one before, I uh usually do doggy so my body isn’t seen as much. I’ve never even had a chick ride me before but you being on top sounds really hot, we don’t to have sex by the way, I was just saying if you wanted to I’m down” Matt confessed.

“If you stop talking about sex with other women, you have a deal. I might keep my shirt on though” I replied as I started slowly rocking my hips again. Matt’s grip on my waist tightened and he thrusted his hips up, his hard-on pressing against my clit so nicely that I let out a small, quiet moan. His eyes grew even darker after that, “No you will not. I wanna see your beautiful belly, I just know it’s gonna turn me on so much more” he instructed me.

I blushed and nodded, “Okay then handsome, just lay back and let me do all the work, tonight is all about you” I said, watching him nod before my lips were on his. I slid my tongue across his bottom lip, silently asking for access to his mouth which was quickly granted. He had a bit of trouble giving up control over the kiss at first but once I started trailing my kisses down his throat, he finally gave up on trying to win.

Matt’s pov

After Y/n had dominated the kiss, we made out for a bit before she started kissing down my neck. Once she reached the collar of my shit, she stopped and stood up to unbutton her pants. “If you really want me to make you feel good, take your pants off for me” she said seductively as she pulled off her own baggy jeans. I followed her directions and pulled my sweats off before grabbing her hand and leading her to sit on my lap again.

Y/n sat on my lap again before taking off her shirt, leaving her in a black lacy bra with matching panties. “Fuck… you look so goddamn beautiful” I said while looking into her eyes, my hands running up her thighs. “Mmm, thank you handsome. Can I take your shirt off?” she smiled, placing a short but sweet kiss to my lips, “You can do whatever you want to me” I panted, already being completely whipped for her.

She took my shirt off before whispering in my ear, “You’re such a good boy for letting mommy taking care of you like this” as I helped her get my pants and boxers off. “Such a pretty cock Matty. You gonna let me make you feel good?” Y/n teased, making me squirm a bit. “Please! Please just make me cum!” I pathetically begged as I watched her hand slowly move up and down my cock.

Y/n’s pov

“Anything for my sweet boy. Now tell me what it is that you want baby” I asked softly, loving how fucked out he looked already. “Want your mouth please mommy! Want you to ride me after!” Matt confessed all whiny and desperate, and who was I to deny him that? Without a word, I nodded before bring his tip into my mouth, loving the whimper he let out, “Yeah j-just like that, fuck!” he groaned as I swirled my tongue around his tip.

After teasing Matt a little bit, I decided to fully take him into my mouth, almost immediately deepthroating his cock. “Holy shit mommy! You’re so good at this! I won’t last long!” he cried out, bucking his hips up when I hummed against him. I continued doing this for a few more minutes when I felt Matt start to twitch in my mouth, his lower abdomen contacting as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum— shit!” he whimpered as his hips thrusted upward and his left hand came down to hold my head in place. His right hand was pulling at his own hair as he shout a huge load into my mouth, so much that it was literally dripping out of the corners of my mouth. As I came up for air, I wiped the corners of my mouth to clean up the spilled cum and then licked it off.

“Did that feel good Matty? You were such a good boy” I smile as I placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “More! I-I need more! Y/n please, I need you to ride me. I’m so fucking hard still, I need to drain my balls in you” Matt begged me. “So needed aren’t we?” “Yes, please I need you” Matt nearly yelled with tears in his eyes. “Okay, okay, calm down sweet boy. You’ll get what you want, just be patient” I spoke softly as I pulled off my panties and unhooked my bra.

Matts hands immediately went down to my ass, staring up at me with a look of desperation. “Are you gonna be a good boy?” “Very good!” I smiled as I slowly sunk down on his cock, trying to adjust to how long and thick it was. “S-So tight mommy! So f-fucking tight!” Matt whimpered out as I started to move up and down with the help of him. Both of us were moaning quite loudly as I started to move faster, pulling his hair in the process.

“Such a good boy Matty, making mommy feel so good with your big cock!” “W-Want you to cum. Wanna f-fill you up” Matt grunted as he started bucking his hips up into me at a fast pace. We were both very close and with one more thrust that hit my g-spot perfectly, I was cumming on his cock. “Fuck Matt, I’m cumming. Oh god— cum for me baby!” I cried as I rode through my orgasm, starting to slightly overstimulated but wanting Matt to cum.

With a loud whiny growl, Matt came inside of me, this load was equally as big as the one from earlier, instantly dripping down his balls. “Holy shit— I love you, and I’m not just saying that because you gave me the most mind blowing orgasm ever. I genuinely love you Y/n” Matt confess as he started to rub my back. “I love you too Matt, I mean it” I smiled as I placed a soft kiss to his lips “Don’t get off, cockwarm me all night please” he sweetly asked.

I agreed and we got situated so we could lay down, Matt turning off his bedside lamp in the process. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna take you on the best date of your life, but for now, goodnight pretty lady” “Goodnight Matt, I love you” I mumbled into his neck, feeling the sleep take over my body. “I love you too, and thank you for tonight. Now get some rest baby” was the final thing to be said before we drifted off to sleep.

All work is subject to copyright

© Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2023

Do not steal my work

[mandalhoerian]

lamb to the slaughter | leon kennedy x reader

read part 1: moth to a flame pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader summary: ❛ You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince. ❜ It's as easy as that three word sentence for Leon to undo a month of moving on from him right after he comes back from Spain. Easy as surrendering to sleep. Eagerness for his uninhibited love makes you forget he isn't one to open up like that in the first place, you should have known the moment he showed up on your doorstep on his own volition that he wasn't your Leon. He'd only come back to spirit you away. Yet, each man kills the thing he loves, as a famous poet would say. But what about when the beloved lets herself be led to the killing? word count: Almost 25K (im sorry) warnings: DARKFIC, proceed with caution. porn with plot, switch leon, yandere leon (kinda? he's infected/plaga leon), lots of smut (face sitting, dry humping, couch sex, rough sex, mirror watching kinda its a window, chained leon, blowjob, tail riding, kinda bondage with chains, creampies, no protection dont be like this kids), jealousy, angst, things go to shit, abduction, leon infects you, protectiveness, confinement, psychic connection through plagas, corruption, consensual arousal-inducing venom. you got the bad ending. lmao dont look at me. we are not seeing the pearly gates notes: 🐑 i say bad ending for a reason, you can accept this as a sequel to moth to a flame or just ignore it! 🐑 leon's appearance here is inspired by the red eyes mod + the mechanic of his superior species is built on what we saw with krauser and all the plaga leon fanart i've seen. though he only lets his tail out and nothing else. 🐑 the pressure of leon's characterization got too much so i threw it all out of the window. now everyone can be equally upset. thank you for all the love, i hope you enjoy this!

🌀 read on ao3!

Leon comes back from Spain a bit different. 

Different is the specifically chosen word here because you’re not accustomed to seeing him like this. It might be you who’s the problem here, but right off the bat something’s out of place to you.

A pattern has been broken.

No contact with him for nearly a month and he appears on your doorstep one night with a dreamy smile on his face you could only imagine a younger, more carefree version of Leon could afford as if all the weight of this world has been lifted off his shoulders, and as if he isn’t here to pick up whatever he’s left behind after your break-up. 

You’re more flabbergasted than anything. He’s absolutely glowing. Healthy. His black compression shirt leaves little to the imagination underneath that leather jacket, and the tight jeans hug his legs in just the right places, your nose picking up the whiff of some rich cologne that would have you normally salivating over him had it not been for the timing. 

A delivery to home directly from your late night daydreams, tempting as a mirage in the middle of a desert, as he intends to be — you’re acutely aware why in the hell he’s dolled himself up at night knowing you’d be either reviewing some documents for work or getting ready for bed, all in your humble, homely peasant outfit. 

It doesn’t feel good knowing what might be the reason. Feels even worse sensing something’s up. 

The thing is… When Leon decides he’s done with ghosting you after the eventful business trips that have him dropping off the face of the earth, it’s almost always in bad shape. It’s rare that he breaks a bone or two, but purple, yellow and green are his colors, along with the sunken, red, and sleep-deprived, exhausted eyes. He comes back to you like a cat seeking refuge from the storm outside, for a safe place to get some rest where he can switch off the survival mode. And you’ve learned to prepare for these rainy days he tends to make his return on. 

This man standing in front of you with take-out dangling from his hand, relaxed and confident with light in his brilliant blues, perfectly silky hair, and a well-rested, handsome face that lacks all the gloom? You almost don’t recognize him. His soft and exuberant voice as he greets you, “Hey,” might as well belong to a stranger. “I look that bad? Haven’t seen you make that face in a while.”

“No,” you refuse automatically, squinting your eyes and trying to wipe the sleep off via rubbing, shaking the initial shock and the whiplash off, your hand tightens on the side of the door. The more entertaining quips have escaped you, such as: ‘More like, haven’t seen you in a while, and that, second.’ But of course your woozy first instinct is to relieve him, and rooting for how Leon can’t look bad even on the worst of days, but that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it? “Sorry, I’m a bit loopy.”

“Ah, shit.” He raises his wrist and shakes it so the sleeve of his jacket would pull back to reveal his watch. “I didn’t realize it was this late. God I am so sorry—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“I bring offerings for your time, if it’s any consolation.” He looks hopeful. God, when has he last been this youthful? It’s blinding. “Have dinner with me?”

You would have jumped at the offer one month ago and done your best to keep him around as long as possible, especially when he’s the best you’ve seen him in a long while — but he’s supposed to be a stranger to you now, an ex. You have tried to move on already, it’s such a betrayal to your overworked heart that the desire to bask in his presence is still strong as ever. 

“Hey, um.” Ever so slightly hiding behind the frame of the door, you watch as his face falls, your hesitance telling everything you can’t put into words out loud. “It’s too late for dinner.”

It comes out weird from your mouth, maybe you should have worded it differently — it feels like it’s not dinner you’re talking about, and him staring with a wrinkled line between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to control his countenance isn’t helping. 

“Should seriously focus on trying to break old habits,” he chuckles hesitantly, a voice crack towards the end of the sentence, and you have to break eye contact. “I forget my normal isn’t normal sometimes. I’m sorry.” 

You fold. 

Not because it’s what you always do, but to get whatever he wants out of the way and get him out of your life as abruptly as he decided to randomly come back today. You want this to be over already. “I’m making an exception for tonight, okay? You can’t come here like this anymore, Leon. Please understand.”

Leon's hopeful expectation slowly fades, replaced by a disappointed understanding. His eyes, once filled with a vibrant light, now dim slightly, and the confident aura that surrounded him wavers for a moment. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, before nodding slowly.

"I see," he says, carrying a tinge of sadness, you kick yourself inwardly for wanting to reach out and comfort him. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just... I wanted to see you again… To—to explain, I mean."

His words catch your attention, curiosity sparking a small candle light within you. Despite the whirlwind of emotions and confusion, you find yourself opening the door wider, gesturing for him to step inside.The way he visibly relaxes, shoulders deflating and the flash of an involuntary relieved, tiny smile on his face before he follows you inside makes your chest contract in endearment. 

This is a grown man you decided to let go. This grown man walked out on you. This grown man made you lose years of your life. This grown man doesn’t need your protection, you shouldn’t want to hide him in your ribcage, you’d be taking in a fish instead of a bird. 

The aroma of the take-out food fills the room, teasing your senses and reminding you of all the shared meals and late-night conversations you used to have. Memories flood your mind, threatening to break down the walls you had carefully built to protect yourself.

God, it hurts. He brought your favorite that he doesn’t like all that much. 

You go ahead and settle at the dining table, the take-out boxes placed between you and where he usually sits — where he used to sit whenever he came over, your base instinct embarrasses you. And as you open the containers, you look back to see what’s taking him so long or if he’s left to wash his hands, and notice that he’s just standing there in the hall, engulfed by the shadows, looking alert in the direction of the living room. You can’t see his face. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask, weirded out by how tense he is suddenly. 

He turns to you, and the kitchen light reflects strongly in contrast from his eyes precisely because he stands in the dark, like some cat. “It… smells.”

“What?” You walk over to him, mortified, trying to pick up what he’s talking about. “Is it the floor cleaner? I changed it to lavender recently. What, you don’t like it?”

“No, you… You—” He takes a few slow steps away from you as if you said something hurtful to him, awe and betrayal taking over his features. 

“Leon,” you try to reach out, confused. 

He’s looking you up and down, the weird shock he went through transitioning into perturbance. “Who is it?”

“What are you talking about—?”

“There is someone else?” He points towards the living with his chin, a look of devastation twisting his forlorn features, arms basically flattened to his side. “You brought them here and— and—”

An icy wave of chills wash over your body. “How do you know that?”

“Because it smells.” He brings a hand up and puts it on his middle as if it’s hurting, alternating between rubbing his nose and down to his chest again, like he doesn’t know what to do with his body. “Shit.”

Leon's reaction takes you aback, his sudden accusations leaving you bewildered. This is the most ridiculous thing you ever heard, what is he, an animal?  “Smells? You smelled him?”

You can’t fathom how he could have possibly known about someone else in your life, let alone the details of their presence in your home.

He gestures with his hand and slaps it back to his side, pressing his lips into a thin line before speaking. “Wonderful.” 

Never in a million years would you have expected to see Leon get bothered by another person in your life. He just isn’t the type to react, this has happened before because of course you tried him, to see if he’d get jealous the way you did — he didn’t, something about you having the right to be with anyone you want and that he can’t stop you. This was early into your ‘arrangement’ — where the line was blurred between hanging out and sleeping together, and you were naive enough to bring the scattered, floating letters between him and you together to define the word. 

This right here has to be about something else, bitterness maybe, that you could move on from him. It gets you worked up, blood slowly heating up. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. We’re not anything, Leon. Not anymore.”

Leon's gaze hardens, and for a moment, it seems like the fragility of hurt and anger flashes and trickles in. He sharply inhales, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady himself. "I know we're not anything." He flexes his jaw, turning his face to the side in self-inflicted disappointment. "And I’m the reason, that’s on me. But damn, it’s only been a month and I’ve been miserable while you—"

You take a step closer, looking to find the middle ground in all of this. "While I’m just going about my life.” Confusion swirls in your mind as you struggle to comprehend Leon's reaction.You hadn't anticipated such a visceral response from him. You don’t know why the next second you’re trying to smooth things over to spare him, there’s no need. But you still are doing it anyway. “And he and I are friends—"

He tilts his head, something entirely cold and hostile under unreactive stoicism squares his shoulders, it’s that perpetually uninviting face of his that scares everybody off. His nostrils flare, but his voice is low and smooth. “Friends that fuck on the couch?”

“How did you—” It’s the cold chills again. “This is getting weird. How can you know that?”

Leon's eyes narrow, and the tension in the room becomes almost palpable, your nervousness almost makes it like the blue of his irises are brighter. He drops to a low, dangerous tone, but he isn’t doing anything to be threatening, so why?—. “It’s dangerous, you know? Letting unknown guys into your home. Who knows what they have in mind? What they want to do to you?”

“Sex, Leon,” you bite back, a bull to red into your apprehension, thinking why in the hell should you be intimidated when he’s being the weird one, you still have to hear about how he knows about your relations. “We had sex. Don’t be dramatic.” 

He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, and suddenly it’s making sense why you felt like something was wrong when you opened the door to him. Maybe he’s drunk on something different today and it’s influencing him. Different liquors have different attitudes. 

“I, on the other hand, have to still hear about how you know. Have you been spying on me?”

“I apparently should have.” 

“Excuse me?” You shake your head, trying to rationalize the situation where he is practically lacking, lost in his own head, his usual personality is currently unavailable to the call for reasons unbeknownst to you. He is a calm guy. Reasonable. You don’t get where this immaturity is coming from, anger-related or not. “Leon, you can’t just go ahead and talk lightly of invading my privacy! I don’t want to joke around right now!”

You should send him away to talk later, or both of your hearts are going to break ugly tonight.

Leon's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes narrowing with a mix of concealed pain and anger. "No, I wasn't spying on you," he retorts sharply, giving you the information you want to know. "But it's hard to miss when the person you care about moves on so quickly."

So he must have seen something? He came back from Spain earlier than you thought? Was this visit about interrogating you all along? 

You hate the way your hands warm up immediately with his admittance to caring about you, even though he will never outright say that he likes you or anything more. It’s unbelievable that’s what your heart decided to pick up on instead of literally anything else right now. 

The hall feels suffocating. It's as if the air itself has turned tar-thick. You take a step back, and escape into the kitchen, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the rising storm of confusion.

“I thought you wanted this. Why would me moving forward be a problem?”

“Because I can’t.” 

You want to yell at him. Why should that be your problem? He wanted this. You prepared yourself because he was perpetually with a suitcase in his hand, so much so you can’t imagine his visage otherwise.

Be calm about this. You’re a grown adult. 

"I don’t understand.” Hands grabbing at the handles of a chair, you spare a glance at him over your shoulder. "I thought we would give each other space, go our own ways."

A bitter laugh escapes Leon's lips, devoid of any humor. "Space? That's just another word for running away, isn't it? And haven’t you immediately found someone else to run towards? That’s how important I was to you, huh?"

The accusation stings, and you struggle to find the right words to defend yourself, his honesty coercing the affection out of you within the ice of self-preservation. "Leon, it's not like that. I’m trying to navigate my life, this isn’t me trying to get back at you or hurt you."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration carved into every line of his face. "Well, congratulations. You succeeded anyway."

This is getting ridiculous. You don’t know how to handle the situation because he never put you in one like it in the first place. 

How are you the guilty one? How is the blame on you, now? Why? Being with him was slow torture, loving him was a doomed gambit, and now he has the gall to make you into the bad guy — for what, prioritizing yourself for once? 

The silence hangs heavily between you, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. It feels as though the foundations of your bond are crumbling beneath the weight of unresolved emotions, the connection you once shared now seems fragile, teetering on the edge of irreparable damage that you’re not sure you want to let go even though it really is the best solution to let it be. You remember how you told him that break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, it seems how the afterward would be like hasn’t crossed your mind at all. 

“Ironic of you to say that,” you mumble, turning away from him with a disbelieving smile, hands on your hips. 

“What?”

“I said,” you turn around, cold anger freezing your features in a silent mask. “That’s rich coming from you. Running away, I mean. All this time I’ve known you, you’ve run away from me—” With each example you give, you take one slow step towards him. “From intimacy, from a deeper connection. I know you couldn’t help but be away for your job and that’s not the issue here.” You stop right in front of him, seething, looking up, doing your best to keep your shit together as you shake a finger at him. “But you don’t have the right to accuse me of running away.” 

He just stands there like a statue. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away. As if this means nothing at all to him, forever the unaffected, desensitized man that he is. You have to flatten your lips to keep them from quivering.

“I’ve had to chase you like some race horse while you were sitting right next to me,” you jab that finger into his chest, not to get something out of him, but because the floodgates were finally open. “I have betted on losing dogs this entire relationship.” Another jab. “I let you treat me like a doormat.” Jab. “I gave you the patience and understanding some mothers wouldn’t give to their children—” And it finally ends with a slap with the back of your hand on his wall of a chest. “Because god smite me I made the mistake of falling in love—” A fucking joyful, pretty sparkle in his eyes that has his eyebrows lifting. It bloods your boil like nothing else. “—-and all of this for you to come into my home and pick a fight over who I fuck after breaking up with me?” You push him — or, rather, try to push him further back into the hall, and when it doesn’t work, raise your arm to point to the door. “Get out.”

Leon's jaw tightens as he stares at you and you see it jump, his gaze piercing through you, ablaze. He tries to grab you by the elbows but you shake him off. “Sweet girl, I—”

The nickname has you on the edge of crumbling and you ricochet back as if burned. “No, nuh-uh,” you rapidly shake your head and one hand at him, eyes burning, deliberately looking at his shoulder not to make eye contact. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. No. Just go. Get out of my house.”

The room plummets into an agonizing quietness filled by the heavy breathing you’re doing your best to stop from shaking as Leon stands there, his hand still lingering, frozen in a futile attempt to reach out to you standing in the light of the kitchen, and him in the shadows. The absoluteness of your words is the hammer of a judge about to fall on his head, sharpened by your anger and the shattered remnants of your flightless hopes. 

You never wanted this. It had ended so peacefully, why was he back as a vengeful ghost bringing the worst out of you — why now? Why?

Finally, Leon lowers his hand, his gaze falling to the floor. There's a momentary lowering of his guard that flickers across his face, a crack in the armor he usually wears. "I know I messed up, and I've been running away. But it's not because I don't care, it's because... I'm — I couldn’t give you anything. Not anything you deserved. Not everything I wanted. And I couldn’t face any of that without having to confront I needed to get out of your life," he says softly, caked with remorse and self-hatred. “Like being somewhere between life and death, I didn’t know what to do, how to move forward.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you feel your anger momentarily waver, you’ve seen the pain in his eyes before, the demons that haunt him from his past — you understand, you understand. In every reality possible, you’d understand, even when you don’t know. “I know, Leon.” The acknowledgment leaves you pained, but this time, don’t give anything in consolation, don’t justify the harmful outcomes of his escapism just so he wouldn’t be scared and pull himself back. Yes, you know. But that’s it. It has to be enough.  

“I want you to also know — I’m not that man anymore.” He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out tentatively, but you flinch away, unwilling to let him touch you, and he stands right at the threshold of shadows bleeding away into the light streaming from the room behind you. 

"Are you seriously about to tell me you changed, Leon? Really? No, I know you," you assert, your voice tinged with skepticism and a lick of frustration. Folding your arms across your chest, you wait for his response, your gaze fixed on him, brows furrowing but a slight smile souring your lips. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me, what could have possibly happened in such a short amount of time, because I’m not having it if it’s about us separating—” It’s mean, the way you outright grin at him, one small part of you regrets laughing at his face when he’s declaring he’s changed, but you can’t stop the poison from wanting to sink into his skin, from wanting to see yourself affecting him. “You, my late blooming pupa, had two whole years to break out of your cocoon. Don’t even waste your breath.”

Leon meets you head on, unfazed by your demeanor, it makes you feel like a child when you were in the right, brings sense to you that this was Leon you were trying to hurt, you knew he wouldn’t give you excuses some man after some piece of ass would — the hurt is bringing the girl out of you that wants to maim as she has been maimed, and he just stands there and takes it as if he wants to show you he’s had way worse before. It isn’t fair.

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand unconsciously fidgeting with the edge of his jacket as he prepares to explain, raising his hands up and tracing the invisible line of the veins inside his wrist. His body language conveys a distant sense of sincerity. 

"I received a gift that opened my eyes," he confesses, his voice carrying a brooding, yet grateful significance. His eyes momentarily drift, as if lost in memories of what transpired. His fingers continue to rub along the veins, he’s recalling something, it’s not a self-soothing nervous habit that betrays his inner turmoil.

Your skepticism wavers, switched with a curious glimmer. The lamb sees the slaughterhouse and thinks it’s home again. You unfold your arms, inching closer as you invite him to elaborate. 

"It saved me. Gave me a new life. Changed me.” He pauses, looking far, far away again. “It changed everything," Leon states with a sense of conviction. He stands a little taller, his demeanor transformed by the profound impact of this revelation.

Your eyes flit in rapid blinking, captivated by his warm, honest intensity. A welcoming, pleasant surprise lingers on your face as you take in the magnitude of what he's sharing.

"Changed everything?" you question, holding back your wonder and uncertainty in fear of disappointment. Your body involuntarily leans forward, drawn in by where he’s taking this.

"Yeah. For good this time. Because I’m not… bound anymore, I’m not trapped. For the first time in forever, I know what it’s like to be truly free.” 

“Oh…” You begin to speak, but words escape you. He is uninhibited, truly elated, that soft smile on his face doesn’t carry the anxiety of what comes next. This is a first for Leon Kennedy. When you remember you mocked what might have happened to him, it fills you with shame. So, something truly wonderful did happen — could happen. It has to do with his job, that much you know. No wonder he’s insisting things have changed, what he does for a living is what haunts him like a shadow, after all, you couldn’t be more aware of that. “I’m… I’m happy for you, then, Leon. I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re not wrong for doubting me. I did.” He looks down at his arms, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I believed I had changed before, you know — had been changed, whatever you wanna call it... Because I had to," Leon admits with introspection. He pauses, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his experience. 

"Then someone I know told me no, you haven't, you just think you have. And both of those options are worse than each other in retrospect, don't get me wrong,” his voice cracks slightly, revealing the conflict within him. There's a flicker of nostalgia and longing. 

He takes a steadying breath, his eyes locked onto yours, conveying a yearning for understanding. This is the most open he’s been with you, the most you’ve seen of him, you’re hypnotized.

"I envy who I was in 1998, but I don't want to be him. The me one month ago is superior, but he was miserable and fucking blind," Leon confesses, the air around him somehow gravitating towards him, becoming hard to breathe because of how hard he’s frowning. Self-deprecating. And his eyes are on you again, back to the moment. “You wanna know how I know I’m different now? I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

He steps forward, into the kitchen, into the light, and shadows dance on his face, and you know what this is — the cat has decided he wants pets, seeking to butt his head into you to initiate contact, and you step backward with the sudden panic sinking in your stomach, but he keeps advancing the more you back off. 

“I’m not afraid anymore,” he rasps, and you make a small sound at the back of your throat. “Not afraid of what I want. Not afraid of wanting. Not afraid of what comes next.”

“Leon—” you interrupt, hands shooting forward, hovering just between you two, feeling his body heat, but terrified of touching him in fear of what might ignite inside you if you do. 

But he catches both your hands, intertwining your fingers and pinning them on two sides of you on the counter the moment your hips hit the lip of it, and you’re immediately steaming underneath your skin, shutting your eyes and turning your face away as his body snuggles in, flush against you. 

“It’s pathetic, the person I used to be—” he breathes, a gentle invitation, a subtle beckoning, though his words are harsh, he’s uttering them so sweetly like it’s a love letter to you, and hot wind from his words licks the side of your face, you can feel the feathery touch of his lips moving a hair’s breadth from your cheek. Your heartbeat is hammering. “He would have bitten his tongue and gone right back home to lick his wounds. Never see you again. He would think it’s what’s best for you, that he’s protecting you this way.”

You swallow, and he chases the motion, head following the movement. His nose caresses the column of your neck, the sigh that escapes his lips echoes the hidden depth of his desires, an unspoken language of pining. 

Your breath catches in your throat as Leon's increasing body heat and tantalizing weight knead and melt you like dough, his words moving you from within, his proximity creating a charged volume that crackles with tension and desire you were fighting so hard to deny. Every fiber of your being is acutely aware of his presence, his warmth pressing against you, and the raw defenselessness he's revealing. 

You missed this. You missed this. You missed this. 

The blood coursing through your veins sings to him, sings for him, and you’re alive again after one month of absolute emptiness, and hate him for doing this to you.

Love him for coming back. 

His grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the tremor in his touch, mirroring the intensity of his emotions. “Look at me.” 

You know you don’t want to, because if you were to see him right now, what he’s showing, what he’s finally allowing you to see, you wouldn’t know how to look away ever again — don’t want to hurt.

Your own heart races in response, fear and anticipation swirling within you. And he places his knuckles on your chin, gently guiding you to face him, “Don’t look away.”

Your glazed over eyes lock with his in a moment that feels suspended in time.

"Leon..." you murmur with a blend of longing and caution. The weight of unspoken possibilities bursts in color in the air between you, begging for acknowledgment.

He nuzzles closer, his lips grazing your skin with feather-light touches. Your body reacts instinctively, a tremble washing through you as his sigh tickles your neck. It's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the magnetic pull between you, drawing you inexorably closer. It’s sweetness so intense it’s trying to hold back the bitterness, a muzzle on a hungry dog’s jaw. 

His voice, a whisper against your ear, is temptation, a pied piper. "I don't want to make the same mistakes anymore. I can't keep denying what I truly want, what my heart desires. I can’t lose you. I’m not losing you. Not like this. Please."

The admission electrifies the mood. Time stands still as you process everything, mind foggy, your own desires intertwining with his. It's a precarious precipice you find yourselves on, teetering between the past and the mirage of a future, between fear and the possibility of something more.

“That’s awfully self-centered,” you laugh weakly, not knowing if this is you unable to look away from his lips or unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze. “What if it’s too late? What if that ship has already sailed?”

He nudges your nose with his, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You don’t want me? Look into my eyes when you tell me, then.”

In that moment, you make a choice. With an upsurge of courage, you do as he asks, searching his need-darkened patience waiting for you, and you let your guard down. Closing the remaining space between, your lips find his in a tender yet fervent kiss, an unspoken consent that verbalizes everything. 

God, you want this man with all your being. One moment of vulnerability, the confirmation you needed for so long from him was enough to melt all your walls down and conquer without war — the things you let him do to you… 

What was tenderness from you ricochets back from him as desperation, he licks into your mouth like a man starved, and a sigh shudders from Leon, you feel it roll through his entire body. He catches your waist in a tight, unyielding grip, his touch conveying a scared need to hold on to you, as if to make sure you're real, and not a fleeting dream. 

“Fuck, I want you so bad. Never wanted more in my goddamn life.” The pent-up tension and unspoken emotions flow between you, igniting a flame that burns brightly, dispelling any doubts or regrets. “Let me have you. Please, let me have you.”

“Give me half of you, and I’ll give you half of me.” His lips, soft and warm, melded with yours in a passionate embrace, separate with a wet pop. “How’s that for a start?”

Leon's lips attempt to dip into yours again, but he wavers to a panting stop, leaving a lingering, ticklish warmth in their wake. His declaration, filled with a mix of intoxication and determination, spills forth. “‘ll give you all of me,” he mutters, his kisses raining down upon your skin in a frenzy of affection. “—Give you all my love. Want all of yours, too.” 

Love. He said love. 

Someone must have hit you over the head, you feel like it, all breath is knocked out of your lungs.

Leon pulls back only inches when he feels you freeze in his arms, and you see it in his eyes — he doesn’t try to hide it… 

And you realize, you’ve seen the ghost of this look before, the shyer one, the more apprehensive, curt one that was prone to hiding away. The pure adoration on his face makes him look younger, like a whole other man. 

Yet, you ask. It’s all you’ve ever wanted from him, only a passing acknowledgement and you’re a sunflower bending over backwards with the first rays of the sun. "You love me?"

Your stomach does a summersault at feeling his heart miss a beat.  "Y... yes?" he stutters, his voice rising. "Yeah."

All that romantic talk. All the insane things he said, and it’s scary to him when the word is spelled out loud. 

The room goes completely noiseless for a moment, your ribcage might as well explode at this point, and then he lets out an audible sigh, trying to calm himself down. "Is that so strange to you?" he adds. "Is that... something you... don't want?"

He knows what you feel. Known it all along, danced around it for both your sakes. Yet, he’s still asking — exposing that defenseless underbelly of his that reveals he thinks he’s unlovable, not worth it, skeptic that someone could want him in that way. 

His eyes stay locked with yours, but some of his confidence seems to have drained away. All that's left is his look of pure, unbridled infatuation, and the expression of genuine, unwavering honesty.

Your mouth seems to have gone dry, heartbeat picking up, stomach swirling, looking at him like he's out of this world, eyes flying everywhere on his face. No words come to mind for a good while. It’s a slow blooming flower at first, but the beaming of your smile takes him aback. “It’s all I wanted,” you practically exhale. 

He makes a small noise of relief and chokes out a smile. 

As your lips mold together again, a new symphony of sensations unfolds. His kiss has the devotion of held-back hunger, lips seeking and exploring every contour of yours, and you surrender completely. To how he desires you, to the intoxicating pull between you, letting your inhibitions fall away. There is only the searing heat of his touch, the intoxicating sweet taste of his mouth, the mint from an already discarded gum and something uniquely Leon, and the synchronization of your combined breaths.

He moves downwards to take nip at the corner of your mouth and then your chin, a soft hum escapes from deep within you, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he makes you feel by the littlest of sensualities.

“Leon…” Your hands find their way to his tousled hair and a waft of his shampoo fills your nose, you pull him closer, yearning for more of him. The room fills with the heady scent of desire, starting to pool deep in your stomach drop by drop.

He bites down on your jaw, knowing just how to make it pleasurable and not hurt, and you gasp out loud. “Sweet girl, my sweet girl,” he chants. His lips find their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing a path of feverish kisses and gentle nips. “My sweet girl.” Each sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you rasping and yearning for more. 

You arch into him. His hands, now guided by a primal instinct, roam freely over your body. They explore every curve and dip, tracing the contours of your silhouette as if committing every inch to memory. Fingers dance along your spine, leaving a trail of delicious shivers in their wake, before finding solace in the small of your back. 

With a firm yet gentle grip, he lifts you effortlessly, placing you on the counter, the cool surface contrasts with the scorching heat that burns even your palms up as he slots between your legs immediately afterwards. 

With a delicate yet possessive grip, his hands glide along your upper thighs, and a needy warmth trickles down to the crevice he grinds his crotch against, the roughness of his jeans delectable against where you need him. 

Your own hands, emboldened, mirror his actions, eagerly exploring the planes of his chest, nails dragging through the fabric. Overwrought fingers interchange between pulling on his leather jacket and the compression shirt that hugs him so tight it won't stretch. “Get this off."

A low growl reverberates deep in Leon's chest as your hands keep hungrily tugging at his clothing, seeking to peel away the layers that separate you. “In the kitchen? That impatient for me?” 

Ah, he’s trying to embarrass you. Not going to work. “Shut up you hypocrite, you made me come on your thigh in broad daylight, in the kitchen.”

“I don’t remember you complaining,” he grins against your lips, and you feel him grow bigger, straining against the cage of his jeans. “God, you were so fucking hot using me like that. Want to see you more — pleasure yourself more — in front of me. I was about to make a mess of my pants like some teenager, just looking at you and,” he rocks both of you upwards as he babbles, and your hands glide down to cradle his flaming neck, your eyes closing, head spinning with his words. “Your pussy on me, shit. I still feel it.”

“Stop running your mouth and get these off then,” you half-heartedly order, not at all an attempt to hide how turned on you are and practically dying to feel him already. 

He opts to tease, “What the lady wants, the lady gets,” like he’s only doing it because you asked him to, but he willingly complies, his movements hinting to be fueled by a shared hunger and a desire to feel your touch against his bare skin.

The leather jacket slides off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest, accentuated by the tight shirt that clings to him. And in one motion, that’s also off, you don’t even get to watch how his muscles ripple and flex, but your hands are on him right after, groaning at just how high his body temperature is, how wildly his heart is beating underneath your palm.

Your mind short-circuits at something foreign wiggling underneath your palms on his chest and not at the way he’s sucking red flowers on the underside of your thrown back chin. 

Your mind can be playing tricks on you, because you swear you can feel something move underneath his skin that’s not tendons, but before you can dwell on it, his lips, now free from their exploration of your neck, capture yours once more in a searing kiss, filled with a soulful need, an unspoken plea for more, as if he wants to consume every ounce of you. 

“Can’t believe kissing alone feels this good,” he says. “I could just do this all day. Have you on my lap, underneath me, above me, and just.” Your lips are teasingly bitten and tugged on. “Have this to myself.”

As his hands continue their tantalizing journey along your thighs, inching higher, you find yourself surrendering to the exquisite sensations. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more friction as the restlessness grows tighter. 

The hardness of his crotch presses against the heat between your legs, creating a delicious ache that demands to be satisfied. He hisses and sighs into your mouth. “Fuck, I can’t wait. Hold on to me.” 

Leon has his arms locked tight around your legs clamped on his legs the next second, and begins to carry you out the kitchen as you hold onto his shoulders, once again in awe of how easy it is for him to manhandle you like this without at least grunting. 

You think he’s taking you to your bedroom and worrying if you left it too messy, but where you find yourself sprawled on your back instead, is the fucking couch in your living. 

The couch your one night stand had his way with you on. 

You sense a subtle shift in the currents of his shadowy gaze bearing down on you, in the flicker of his eyes, in the tightening of his jaw, that you glimpse a revelation you have not anticipated hidden beneath layers of charm and composure, the shifting of tectonic plates beneath calm waters. It’s uncharted territory. A dormant beast awoken from slumber, his demeanor betrays an unfamiliar greedy intensity that enthralls you. Once soft, subtle adoring nature of his, now holds a smidge of territorial longing, as if he yearned to claim you as his own, to wrap you in the cocoon of his desires, the undercurrent untamed, raw, unfamiliar — both to you and him. You’re no stranger to his intensity, his passion, but this is foreign to you. 

With surprised anticipation, you laugh to hide the nervousness. “I didn’t know you could be jealous.”

“I didn’t know I was capable of it either.” His big palm comes down on your stomach, fingers fanned out, and it drifts up as if he’s just taking you in, with some pressure sinking into you, and your shirt rides up because of it, exposing your stomach all the way to the beginnings of your lower ribs. “Of this much need to monopolize.” 

He hooks a strong arm around your waist and tugs you a bit up to meet his descending mouth to your revealed abdomen, leaving wet kisses and kitten bites all over, teasing by faking you out that he’ll go higher to play with your aching breasts, the tip of his nose touching the bottom curve of one and then going lower. Either way, it’s your loss, heat keeps pooling in the ever-so-hungry pit as your panties become uncomfortable already. He knows how to build you up.  “It’s so ugly in my head right now because of this goddamn smell—and all I think is what I’m looking at right now was seen by another man. Wanna fucking tear into you to get rid of it.”

You quip, “Does he smell that bad?” amused, an attempt to distract yourself from how easy he has you, hands finding his hair again and tugging, eliciting muffled groans from Leon, but the promise of roughness thrills you, the shiver going through you perking your nipples up. You honestly didn’t know he had this much of a sensitive nose up until today, goes to show how little of himself he showed you in the past. 

“He reeks.” He drags his blunt nails through the line of your waist soothing it with feathery, tickling, lazy strokes of faint pleasuring zaps as he bucks into your clothed core, drawing hisses and gasps from both of you. The rough zipper line of his jeans accentuated by his hardness hits just the right spot, you could do this forever — gosh, you have a wet spot in your panties, it feels gross but it’s so warm and it’s so good — 

Oh you love the way his eyes darken, the way his voice deepens ever so slightly when things you never thought would come from him in a million years are sent your way, goosebumps awaken all over you at the, god, you can’t believe you’re saying possessiveness. “We could, you know, get it reupholstered. If you’re paying for it—” 

“I have a better idea,” A devilish smirk curls at the corners of Leon's lips as he lifts his head from your abdomen, eyes glinting. His grip on your waist shifts to the waistband of your pants, teasingly tracing the edge. “How about instead I reclaim it so you won’t be able to sit on it ever again without getting so hot and bothered by what I did to you here. Hm?”

His touch sends invigorating currents coursing through your body, pooling desire between your thighs. You arch your back, wordlessly urging him to continue. and he kneads your hips, digging into your flesh with a delicious pressure. “I’ll make my sweet girl so fucked out stupid she forgets any touch that came before me.” He squeezes once and your cunt just throbs. “Only remembers my name.”

Fucking hell. 

"But if it bothers her, I'll consider reupholstering," he continues, a hint of playfulness there. "She’ll just have to pay in other ways."

A mischievous gleam dances in your eyes as you match his playful banter. "Oh, I have a feeling I can think of a few ways to make it worth your while," you purr, your fingers still tangled in his strands, urging him to bring his lips back to yours.

“That right?” Leon's chuckle reverberates through his chest, vibrating against your skin. He leaves a trail of heat and moisture on your stomach as he climbs up, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth with a fervor matched only by his growing desire.

His heat washes over you, and your breath hitches as you struggle to control the rising tide of need, and you can’t stop the small whine from escaping when he tempts. “How would she like it?” with hooded eyes, you see him imagining — thinking, living the filth out in his brain and not hiding it from you at all. The thought of being completely consumed by him, of surrendering to his desires, sends a torrent of suspense coursing through your veins.

With deliberate slowness, his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants, grazing over the sensitive skin of your lower abdomen, and you nod fervently, wanting Leon to stop with the leisurely approach and just fucking throw you around or bury his fingers into your pussy already — “Use your words sweet girl.” He chuckles when he sees the delicately restrained agitation of yours, his touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingertips tracing maddening circles that dangle you over promised pleasure.

His piercing stare ensnares you, a captivating force that renders you powerless. His inquiry lingers, emphasized by his almost restlessly eager fingers massaging your skin, akin to a tantalizing vow of sensual delight. In this very instant, a revelation dawns upon you—Leon's unchained greed does not arise from insecurity alone; rather, they stem from an unquenchable thirst to know you’re his, to conquer every fragment of your being and eliminate any shadow of uncertainty.

In a flurry of emotions, your words spill forth, infused with a potent blend of yearning and submission. “Take me, I want you to take me. Wanna feel only you…” Succumbing to the irresistible yearning surging through your veins, you surrender yourself to the overwhelming craving that courses within you. “Any way you want.”

His jaw falls open slightly in shock, like the shape of language has left him, hold stilling around you in an iron grip — the way his cheekbones get slightly pinked gets you bucking up to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, extending your arms at him like you’re asking for a hug. “Make me forget however you like.”

His chest expands with the big breath he sucks in, a guttural growl escaping his throat, a primal sound that makes him feel almost inhuman with another trick of the light that makes his veins appear darker, dancing, almost, as he pulls you up, leaves you dizzy with how quick he reverses your positions, it’s his back on the plush cushions now, one knee bent a little bit and you on top of him, straddling his lap. He’s looking up at you, and you flash to how you had him exactly that way before he left for Spain.

“Sit on my face.”

You blink a couple times. “What?”

His fingers catch the band of your pants and underwear. “I want you to ride my face.” The small grin that breaks out on his face after licking his lips is downright sinful. “Wanna be fucking suffocated by you.”

“Will you be alright—”

“It��s nothing to me,” The persuasion is nonchalant, like he has experience being waterboarded and it’s something trivial. “I said I’d make you remember me whenever you sit on this couch, didn’t I?” 

His request is bold, ramming the boundaries of your comfort zone, there’s the fear of crushing him and there’s the embarrassment of how he’d receive your weight, yet overcome by the part of you that craves to fulfill his desires, overtaken by how he always wants to give pleasure and not take it. 

You slowly rise from his lap, and he momentarily releases you from his hold. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the waistband of your pants, undoing them and sliding them down your legs, along with your underwear, his dilated pupils are fixated on the silvery thread of your arousal stretching. Your heartbeat quickens, a flush heating your body up at the deep assertion of, “Attagirl. Come here.”

With a deep sigh, you find the courage to surrender to the experience, encouraged by how much he seems to want this. You shift your position, allowing him to steer you to straddle his face, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his head. Your core hovers tantalizingly close to his waiting mouth, aching for the pleasure he promises to deliver. 

Not knowing when his hand sneakily crawled between your legs, you are caught by surprise when he drags a finger through your slit, gathering the moisture and spreading it around. “This all for me?”

“Hmmm,” you confirm, heartbeat shooting straight downwards, pulsing against his finger. “All for you.”

“Don’t be shy, take a seat,” A deep rumble vibrates in his chest, he’s looking drunk already, and you twitch upwards with the way hits your wetness, then, he’s massaging the tension of your thighs holding your body up. “All of your weight, sweet girl. Don’t hold back. Just sit. I promise I’ll make you feel so good, it’ll feel so good, just—” He raises his head to lick an galvanizing stripe right where you want him and you moan, the experience all the more elevated by being able to see how his eyes flutter close as if he’s feeling in and the focused pinch of his eyebrows. 

Trembling legs weakened by his begging, you begin to lower yourself onto him, the searing, wet warmth of his breath against your sensitive, aching folds making you gasp. His hands guide you and you hold onto his bulging biceps, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you find the perfect angle, anchoring you in place. 

“Le – ah! Leo—n!” You can’t even arch off from the couch when his mouth dives into your tender cunt, only able to throw your head back and tremor in place because he has you in an iron grip against him, fingers sinking into the plush of your hips the moment he hears the stutter of your sweet whining. 

He hums, and you feel the vibrations reverberate inside you, mouth hanging open when his tongue delves in, as well. 

“So good — shit…” You fall forward, hands finding purchase on the armrest of the couch, your nails digging into the fabric as his skilled tongue dances against your most sensitive parts, exploring and teasing with an expertise that leaves you respiring, a particularly shocking jolt of ache striking and leaving your vision with dancing stars when he gently nips at your clit with his teeth, your hips spasming, but unable to even squirm in peace because he won’t let you move away from him. “That! That — ah, yes, yes!”

He is just delighted and it shows in his excited panting when it gets you to start rocking your hips in sync with him, and after a while, falling back and letting you take control of the pace. 

He traces delicate patterns against your most intimate parts, setting a pattern and then breaking it, building you up and pulling you back down, teasing and exploring with a fervent hunger. “That’s perfect — yes, Leon, you’re making me feel so good, you’re — hmm! —”

The groaning moan is swallowed by an even prettier whine when you pull on his hair, it wasn’t the intention to get him to do this, you were just particularly feeling good, but you try again, and he shudders this time, a more restrained version of the sound, you swear, literally makes you gush. 

“You sound — you sound so pretty moaning from making me feel good— So pretty—” You can’ complete the sentence as he sucks on your clit, only able to babble. “So pretty, so pretty…!”

You absolutely weren't expecting being accidentally called pretty would be the final straw to start palming himself against his jeans and fucking dry hump his hand, leaving only one hand to hold you down, and he wraps his entire arm around your waist to staple you to his mouth, you feel the veins and the flexing muscles on your skin from how much strength he’s using, and it’s enough to heighten the throb in your cunt.. 

“You’re gonna come in your pants from eating me out?” The bucking of your hips becomes harsher, faster, the coil in your stomach tightening just from seeing his blissful mien and urgency of his hip thrusts, walls contracting around his tongue. “That’s so fucking sexy—”

The pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher, each flick of his tongue sending you higher and higher, his ability to read just when you get close is exquisite, and you enjoy him slowing you down, each flick and swirl of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy, but not quite getting you there, his own hand matching that pace and edging himself on, as well. 

The world narrows down to the sensations between your legs, the sound of your own moans building in speed and pitch mingling with his fervency, a blast of heat building deep within you unexpectedly fast, like dropping from the peak of a roller coaster, a wildfire spreading. “So close, so close, so close so closesoclose!”

You cry out his name as your pleasure crescendos, he holds your gaze the entire time through it, an explosion of sensation that engulfs you in waves of ecstasy, your voice mingling with his muffled groans of satisfaction against your sensitive flesh, body oscillating with pleasure, every nerve ending electrified by the intoxicating completion Leon provides — and he laps everything up, 

He does not give you one single break. 

The next second, you’re knocked on your back, and then flipped on your stomach like a ragdoll, and he shoves you up toward the other armrest of the couch until you have to hold onto it and hold yourself up — and you have to, from how much your thighs are trembling. You don’t even have the time to look back after hearing the frantic fumbling of his zipper being pulled down before feeling his rock-hard length gliding through your puffed and abused cunt, and a pained whine shakes your body as you snap your knees shut. “Leon—Leon—I can’t—”

“You can,” he coats himself in your dripping wetness, and you’ve accidentally created more friction for him by snapping your legs together, he’s just dragging himself against you, not entering, but pushing strong enough that it gets you to shake and squirm to get away, but he hooks one arm across your torso and grips your shoulder, pulling you up so your back is flush against his sweaty, burning chest. He extends an arm and places his hand just beside yours for support. “You’re so perfect taking everything I give you. My sweet girl, always so good to me, so gorgeous — just look at you.”

He gently nudges your chin up to get you to look at something, and —

You are looking straight at the reflection of yourself in the window ahead, Leon’s chin on your other shoulder, he is also staring, watching you there — both of you look so fucked out already. 

He seems to be in a more of a drunken daze than you are, his hair is so sexily messed up as if it was deliberately styled, the fact that it was you has you clenching around nothing. You hiss when the head of his cock slips in momentarily, only to slip out as he keeps the motion of sliding back and forth,  teasing, edging, your moans become softer, yelp-ushered, and shorter.  

“Look how pretty you are,” he nips at your earlobe, looking straight into your eyes in the window. You see the raw desire etched across your face, the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin, and the unbridled lust that courses through your veins — the sight of yourself, lost in the throes of passion, sends a rush of arousal through you. 

He begins to bite and suckle at your neck and shoulder as the edging persists, the tension within you, yet again, beginning to stretch beyond belief without a snap at horizon, your whole body is quivering at how fast it’s coming down on you. 

“I’m gonna— Leo–n, please, please—!”

You’re teetering on the edge of ruin, the need for release becoming all-consuming. You cling to his well-built, thick arm holding you to his chest, seeking an anchor amidst the overwhelming pleasure. A particularly sharp bite at the most meaty part of your shoulder makes you cry out and he begins mumbling in your ear, needy, and keeps up the same pace just for your pleasure even though he sounds so needy. “Come for me, I want it, pretty girl, come on, give it to me—” 

With a final plunge, Leon relinquishes the tease and thrusts deep inside you, filling you completely to the hilt, and your vision goes completely white as pleasure crashes over you in a wave of intensity, your body attempting to thrash around with the force of your orgasm, his chest shudders at your strangled cry. 

He stays buried deep within your convulsing walls and just breathes and softly hisses as you come down from your high, following you as you fall forward to rest your head on your forearms on the armrest. 

He plants kisses on the ball of your shoulder, trailing a line all the way to the other one, and then coming back to your nape. “You okay?”

You whine in response, completely blissed, and feel him jump inside you.

He sighs with force. “Don’t rile me up like that just yet.”

“‘m not doin’ ‘nything…”

“You don’t know what you do to me.” His chest rumbles from how thick and deep his voice lowers, albeit in affection. “You could be watering flowers or something and I’d go out of my mind for you.”

You weakly sputter in laughter, heart expanding nonetheless. “Watering flowers?”

“Yeah, I mean—”

“Couldn’t you have chosen something mundanely and unconsciously sexy. Like, I don’t know, sitting and reading a book?”

He scoffs, but you can tell he’s tiredly endeared. “Reading is sexy to you?”

“Well. You squint your eyes and clearly need glasses but the concentration is definitely hot.”

“I don’t need glasses.”

“You do. Leon, baby, you squint when you’re trying to read—”

“Maybe because I’m trying to understand what I read—”

“You don’t understand anything you read, then? Because you do it all the time.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve never had a problem with my vision.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure, dumb jock of mine.”

He responds with one singular fast and shallow thrust, testing the waters, lips curling up against your shoulder at the sweet sound rising from you. “You must have gotten the rest you needed if you’re sassing me.” 

“Fuck—” you hiss at the stretch, so delicious, stings so good. “Leon, can we just—”

“No,” He presses you forward, squishing you, and one of your hands digs into the armrest and the other one on his forearm that lines like a special pillow just for you to bury your head in. Your teary eyes accuse him in the window, your mind playing tricks on you again and makes it seem like they flash a deep red at you like some demon in your imagination. “Eyes on the window, watch me.”

He starts torturously slow, setting a lazy ebb and flow, the tip of his cock aimed to hit your G-spot every time he inches into you, his fingers are curled underneath your chin and still making you watch, but you can only look at how feral he is marking your neck like he’s some vampire, sucking and popping noises spreading around your body in ripples, and behind your tears, you can see the red eyes still on yours.   

“Faster,” you sob, feeling like you’re about to pass out from yet another building orgasm but know ultimately that’s not going to happen and it’s just how well he wrecks you. 

He moans obscenely into your ear, completing that with a delighted hiss as your nails mark his forearm laced with defined veins. “Gonna come for me again, huh? How many minutes has it been, and you’re gushing already? Are you just that perverted or is it me?”

“Yes, you, it’s you.” You throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder, and he lowers the fingers on your chin to hold you by the throat against him, putting slight pressure with at the two sides of your neck — not cutting your airway, but the blood flow to your brain, plunging you into cloud-soft, pleasure-fueled fuzziness.

“Inside?” he asks for permission, strained. His thrusts pick up, not shallow, but brutal all the way, and so do your whimpers. “Can I—” 

You can imagine the sensation of the warmth of him spilling into you. You’re so thankful for actively looking for hook-ups before this and getting on birth control for it. “Yeah, inside, come inside me—”

He bites down again, it has to be a new favorite thing for him, and he reaches down to circle your clit, pressing and playing, gentle and then sharp. 

You feel a familiar fullness growing, and clench yourself up, it makes Leon hiss. “Bathroom—” you choke, panicked. “We have to stop, I have to—”

He doubles the finger on your clit and you squeak, squeezing your thighs together — something’s coming and he keeps hitting that spot over and over and over again — you’re going to fucking wet yourself — “Leon, I’m serious, I’m gonna—”

“It’s not what you think it is,” he says, reassuring, caring, peppering kisses everywhere.

How is he so sure! 

“No, no, I can’t— Leon, Leon, Leon, Leon!”

Third time, third time it’s something else, you can’t, you can’t—

“You can.” He grunts, smothering your squirming by his weight. “Go ahead sweet girl, just like that. You’re doing wonderful, I got you. Let it go. Let it come.”

You hear the brief spray of something, the trickle of liquid between your thighs and the intermittent whining of his as he comes inside, but you swear you fucking pass out for a good fifteen seconds from how the coil of pleasure detonates in your core and shatters your consciousness in a foggy haze.

You fucking squirted. 

Didn’t even know you could do that. 

He made you because he was jealous.   

“Asshole,” you cry-mumble, trembling like a leaf. “My couch.”

He just laughs. His eyes are still glowing red in the window’s reflection. 

You’re too sleepy for this.

You’re dreaming that you’re Leon. 

It’s a weird nightmarish vision bleeding pulsating black at the edges probably fueled by imagining him as a mean demon ravishing you yesterday. 

One moment you’re looking down at yourself suffering in your sleep at the backseat of a car, head resting on his lap, some blond man even buffer than Leon is driving the car, you can see the outline of a scar at the side of his face and you call him Major Krauser; and the other you’re intensely gazing at yourself in the bathroom mirror, eyes are still red, but this time, there are dark veins mapping all over your body, all over your face, and they’re pulling back and moving.

You startle awake to an unfamiliar bedroom, a dull ache in your chest, weak and absolutely sick to your stomach that it feels like your guts are restlessly moving around. 

“The hell?” Just where are you right now? This isn’t your home. “Leon? Leon!”

Soft, muted hues adorn the walls, casting a serene ambiance that envelops the room, but you’re far from calm, the tight feeling in your chest pushing up into your lungs. Gentle lighting, emanating from carefully placed fixtures, are dancing upon the surfaces, creating a mockingly soothing ambiance with a faint scent of cleanliness, mingling with freshness.

You are on the plush bed, adorned with crisp linens and plump pillows, the centerpiece of the room, with bedside tables holding the essentials within arm's reach. Ahead is a cozy seating area with its comfortable armchairs and a snug loveseat and a work desk, strategically positioned near a well-lit window or a dedicated reading lamp. This awfully looks like a hotel room. 

He emerges from a door, and you see the glimpse of a bathroom behind him before he shuts it behind him. “Hey, you’re awake.”

The anxiety of the gap in your memory dissipates the moment you see him.

“And confused, where is this? Why don’t I remember getting here?” You grimace and prop your body to sit up, pressing the heel of your hand to where your heart is, his eyes flicker to the motion, eyebrows dropping down. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, faintly smiling, trying to hide his worry. “You were sleeping.”

You reach for the bottle of water sitting on the bedside table to your right. “And why did you feel the need to bring me somewhere while I was asleep?”

He eerily looks mysterious for a second. “You remember me talking about the gift I was given?”

“Yeah..?” 

“I’ve shared it with you.” 

“Oh-kay…” God, that water was heavenly. You weren’t aware that you were parched. “Is that why I feel sick? Did we go out last night and get blackout drunk or something, is that it?” 

“You feel sick?” You stop playing with the plastic bottle when his face hardens. “You shouldn’t be hurting, why…”

“Can we dial it back a little?” You raise your hands, remembering your priorities. “Leon, where are we? I can’t be here, I need to go to work, there is this article about the Spanish guest President Graham has dropped everything to meet with today and I need to get it out—”

“I’ve called in for you. You’re good.” 

Well. 

It was truly the right call to make given just how weird you’re feeling, just on the precipice of getting badly sick, you’re grateful he took the initiative for you but it wouldn’t have been bad to be told before he did this. The newspaper could have caused big trouble. “I would have appreciated it more if you asked me first.”

Leon looks genuinely bothered, you don’t know if it’s because you’re telling him off. “Sorry about that, I had no time before—”

“Time for what?” 

“Well…” He trails off, lost in thought. “How about I start from the beginning?”

“I’m more than happy to listen, but first, where are we? Spoilers are fine.”

A voice you don’t know abruptly cuts in and makes you jump. “Spain, sweetheart. You’re in Spain.”

Why the hell is there a stranger in your room?

“Who the hell are you?” You pull the covers up even though you’re not naked and dressed in a casual outfit you have no memory of throwing on. His presence in this room feels like a security breach because you’re in bed. “Why are you — Leon, why is—“ 

“Krauser.” Leon shoots up from his seat in urgency. “I told you to—”

What he said registers suddenly. “Spain?” You’re unbelievably alert. It’s the guy you saw in your dream, driving the car. Leon calls him the same name you heard in it, as well. “Leon, who is this, what is he talking about?”

His chest puffs up in concentrated dejection, misery engulfing him as he looks at you, mute. You ask him with your eyes to tell you the random guy in your room is kidding, but he doesn’t. 

You edge closer to the other side of the bed like you’re some scared animal. “What the fuck is going on?”

The glare he gives to the guy would have scared you shitless had it not been for the shock you’re going through. “Get out.”

This isn’t a prank. 

You finally explode, hands gripping the linens in a tight ball, heart beating a mile an hour. “Listen, I would like to be spoken to! Spain? Can you please explain it to me already!”

“Your boyfriend has given you the Las Plagas parasite, and you’re here to go through the initiation ceremony, so to speak. You’re to be presented to our Lord. Sorry, kid.” A pitying chuckle. “Should have had better taste in men.”

Huh.

Huh?

The very military-looking man, with the beret and the outfit and all, says it with the most fed up and serious intonation ever that a loud, ringing, involuntary laugh comes out from you and rings in the room, but something in your stomach hurts from the force of it, so you double down in pain, gasping. Something moves in you. “What… God, fuck, ow…”

You clutch your abdomen, the pain intensifying with each passing moment. It feels as though something is writhing inside you, twisting and contorting with a sickening energy. It’s foreign. Doesn’t belong in your body, you’re about to hyperventilate. 

Your mind struggles to process the gravity of the situation unfolding before you. Spain? Parasites? Initiation ceremony? It all sounds like a macabre nightmare, but the agony coursing through your body is alarmingly real.

You don’t know when Leon moved to get to you, but he is next to you all of a sudden, supporting you, eyes widening with concern, his earlier mysterious demeanor crumbling away. He moves swiftly, his hand reaching out to prop you. "Easy, take deep breaths, it’ll pass, I promise, I’ve got you," His voice drips with something icy as the person he’s addressing changes. “You told me that shit would take away her pain.”

Major Krauser watches the scene unfold with a mixture of detachment and sympathy. His presence is imposing in his stern countenance. "I told you it would make it easier," he interjects, gruff. "The worst of it is over. Superior species process differently than the regular one."

“Can’t we just—”

Fear grips you like a vice as you try to comprehend the magnitude of what is happening. "Why... What have you done to me?" you manage to make out, wavering with both pain and confusion.

His hands move gently, yet frantically to caress your arms in attempts to comfort you through the pain. “I saved you.”

“Oh, you are gone in the head, rookie.”  

Leon looks scary, a barely contained rage just under the surface, gripping you tighter. 

Your mind races, trying to make sense of the fragmented information you've been given. It all feels like a nightmarish delusion, an absurd reality you've been thrust into.

What’s going on? Just what’s happening right now?

Gasping for oxygen, you manage to choke out a question, desperation just beneath. "What kind of sick game is this?"

Krauser, stoic and unyielding, interrupts with a dispassionate tone, his eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity. "It's not a game. Lord Saddler seeks vessels, chosen ones who can carry the power of Las Plagas. You were chosen, through Leon."

You reel back, disbelieving. "Chosen? Lord Saddler? Leon, what in the world—"

Leon's gaze turns somber, regret across his face. "I made a choice, so we could be together. So you would be protected." He becomes pleading. “The world is about to change forever—”

Oh what the fuck.

You begin to cough uncontrollably, slapping a palm on your mouth, whole body wrecked by the velocity of the fit.

There’s blood when you remove your hand. 

“Oh, god,” you whimper, but the spillage of blood also marks the ebbing away of the pain, it’s gradually fading.  

“Make her drink it again. It should be fine, three days have passed.” 

Major Krauser, the enigmatic man who claimed you had been infected, remains stoic but watches your distress intently before leaving the room from another door. 

Three days. Three days? You slept for three days?

“I want to go home. I want to leave.”

Leon sighs, visibly sad. “I know, sweet girl, but I can’t let you go anywhere right now.” 

“Why!” You yank away from him, crawling to put some distance between him and you. You trust Leon, you see that he is loyal to you, but can’t stop freaking out. “Then explain it to me! What the hell is Las Plagas or whatever the hell it’s called! Just what did you do to me?”

“First, you have to know I’m — I was a government agent. I work to wipe out bioweapons, the kind in Terragrigia. That’s the basic gist of it, anyways. Spain was a mission. To save the President’s daughter.”

“What.”

Throughout the long and agonizing day, you continue to plead with Leon, hoping desperately that he will release you from your confining prison. Each time, he feigns sympathy and expresses apologies, but his determination remains unyielding. The realization that the man you love has become your captor sinks its fangs deeper into your psyche, a tormenting truth that threatens to shatter your sanity.

Moved to a more luxurious room, attended to by servants who treat you as though you were some revered figure, you feel the suffocating weight of your captivity. Leon, on the other hand, freely comes and goes, moving about with an air of authority and control here in this unknown location. 

The stark contrast between your roles within this twisted dynamic only further amplifies the madness of the situation. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain your composure when everything around you appears normal, yet you are trapped, on the verge of losing your grip on reality.

Leon's attempts to justify his actions, delivered with a soft and soothing cadence, only serve to deepen the chasm between the man you once knew and this deranged version standing before you. He speaks of a global project involving the parasitic vaccination of the entire world, claiming that he only sought to protect you and longed for your reunion in this new world order. 

According to his words, everyone will be connected through what he refers to as the Holy Body, and he brought you here to shield you from the chaos that looms outside. He even speaks of defying some enigmatic figure known as "their Lord," as if he had waged a battle for your favor against him.

It’s insane. He’s insane, but looks perfectly okay saying all of this stuff. Leon wasn’t like this one month ago, it’s Spain that changed him, the dots connect themselves — the gift that he talks about wasn’t a gift at all, he was most likely infected against his will like you were, and now believes in the batshit crazy nonsense he’s talking about like it’s gossip over tea.  

You realize quite a bit late that this is a cult because of his perfectly ordinary demeanor. He’s Leon and you trust him, and it stalls your thought process. 

You have to repeat it over and over again to process it.

Leon took you against your will, to a fucking cult. 

They even have a name for god’s sake, Los Illuminados — the ‘servants’ are cultists. It’s easy to fall into the normalcy and accept it the way Leon puts it, like some fairy tale, like telling you about news from another country. 

With the new knowledge of his past, you don’t know to be in awe of him or terrified, your whole relationship unraveling in transparent context littered between the lines as you rediscover who he is as a person and why he did the things he did — but definitely lean towards the latter the more you can’t get through to him to let this stop already, it becomes more clear to you very quick there’s a certain instability to him now that wasn’t there before, something dark as if he’s balancing himself on the razor’s edge of control, it swims closer to the surface whenever you mention you want to go home. 

The Leon you remember was gloomy at times, yes, but he was also rational, calm, and grounded. He was unyielding in the face of adversity and never subscribed to such ludicrous beliefs. The dissonance between the Leon of the past and the current incarnation, who mindlessly parrots the teachings of the cult, leaves you utterly bewildered. You struggle to reconcile the two versions, grappling with the question of who he truly is and why he committed these unthinkable acts.

In these moments, when Leon reverts into the preaching mode, his gaze becomes vacant, as if he is merely regurgitating the words he has been fed. It is only when his attention turns to your well-being that glimpses of the man you love flicker to the surface. 

The conflicting emotions within you reach a boiling point, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of how to proceed.

The gaping divide between the Leon you once cherished and this altered persona rattles your very core. Fear grips your heart as questions swirl in your mind. What now? What lies in store for you? The uncertainty looms like a dark cloud, casting shadows of doubt and despair over your fragile existence.

The answer and possible salvation comes to you in the form of a man, a mysterious figure who materializes from an entry point to the room you had no idea was there. 

The dim light casts eerie shadows on his face as he greets you with a slight bow. 

“Who are you?”

“Luis Serra, Princesita. Your only chance.” He nods, lighthearted, but you see the weight of his seriousness. “We don’t have much time. If you want to get rid of the parasite, come with me, I’ll explain on the way.”

Why do you feel like all you do is being swept with whatever current washes down your way? 

It’s bizarre to be running away — from Leon, of all people. Go with this random man number two, where? To do what? What happens to Leon, then? 

Thrown off by his sudden appearance, you try to assess the situation, searching for any signs of deception or ulterior motives. 

Despite your apprehension, something about his urgent demeanor and the glimmer of hope in his eyes instill a soft landing for trust in him, you feel that he can help you somehow — but there is the obvious elephant in the room. “What about Leon?”

“I’m doing this because he asked,” Luis replies, his words carrying a sense of loyalty and commitment. They have some sort of history you don’t know. 

Without further delay, he administers a serum, providing you with a temporary respite from the torment inflicted by the parasite Leon’s infected you with. It offers relief, albeit temporary, buying you precious time before the inevitable returns in Luis’ words.

You decide to go with him and see where this path leads, you have nothing better to do, can’t see any way out of this. 

He motions for you to follow him, leading you through a concealed passage that winds its way beneath the labyrinthine corridors of the cult's stronghold — a castle, as you’re shocked to take in. The path is bleak, the air heavy with a musty scent, but you push forward, driven by pure survival instinct to get away to safety.

Luis starts explaining not too much into your journey, hushed, he has all the answers you needed in the first place, quick to the point. "Las Plagas are ancient organisms with a malevolent sentience. They infest and control their hosts, erode their will and sanity. They were made to be… weapons to be harnessed by Los Illuminados. Those who succumb to it become pawns of their leader, Saddler, carry out his agenda. Slaves to his will. They don’t have their minds intact, just flesh prisons to obey his orders."

Your first thought is of Leon, the horrible sinking feeling unspun in your stomach. 

Luis knows what you’re thinking. “Leon… and his buddy Krauser are exceptions. They possess what’s called the superior species, newly engineered.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at the same time, like he’s contemplating a good business deal. “That means free will. To a degree. Their parasites are connected to Saddler, so their bodies can be controlled, but not their minds. Not entirely. They’re not like the inferior ganados. That’s why he was able to seek you out with his own volition.” 

The realization that Leon is trapped within this nightmare strikes you like a blow, your heart sinking with each passing moment. "He isn't controlled?" you inquire, hope blossoming in your chest. "Can you save him too?"

Luis's response is filled with regret, his eyes reflecting a sorrowful truth. "I'm afraid he's beyond saving," he confesses. "The procedure I have can only remove newly hatched eggs, and Leon... well, he's already been consumed by this darkness."

The words reverberate through your mind, the horror of the situation fraying your soul. "But... I can't just abandon him!" you protest, determination and anguish trying to overpower one another.

"You'll be gone forever too if you don't," Luis warns. "It's now or never. If you hesitate, if he catches even a hint of your trail, it will be over."

“You said you were helping me because he told you to.”

“Before he was lost, yes, he made a final wish.” Luis softens, and you realize he’s grieving, too. “He told me to take you as far away as possible from him if he ever were to try and get you involved in this mess. Because he would never do that to you in his right mind, so he said. A total romantic underneath all that ice, eh?”

He would never do that to you in his right mind… 

You flash back to three days ago, to his words, to how he said he loved you, all his adoring, the broken dam of affection and how he didn’t hold back anymore. 

He wouldn’t have decided to go through with opening up to you like that had it not been for the parasite’s influence? 

Uncertainty dangles heavy as you fight with the bitter reality you thought was a dream come true, the heart-wrenching realization that the man you love has been ensnared by the very darkness he sought to protect you from — that only giving into it broke his control of keeping away from you emotionally.

Regret etches itself onto Luis's face as he observes your inner turmoil. "I'm truly sorry, Princesita," he offers with empathy. 

The moment hangs suspended, an agonizing choice looming before you, as you weigh the love you hold for Leon against the desperate need to escape the clutches of this cult. 

You don’t want to leave Leon, even when there’s something clearly wrong with him that can’t be fixed, but on the other hand… 

“Can you honestly tell me he isn’t the man I know?”

“He is less and more.” His tentativeness bleeds into the clearest possible simplification he’s able to give you.. “But isn’t the same.” 

“So what do we do? What should I do?”

You still cannot wrap your head around your whole world flipping upside down, can’t comprehend you have to leave Leon behind, you barely processed him being an agent. You’re stalling. Hesitating. And deep down in your heart, you know why. It’s because you don’t want to go. 

Leon is still Leon. 

But you’re terrified. 

 "The choice is ultimately yours to make. But I implore you to consider your own well-being and the chance to break free. I know that’s what he truly wanted."

“I—”

But as you open your mouth to respond, a sudden, excruciating pain shoots through your head, causing you to cry out in agony. It feels as if someone has driven a searing spike into your skull, rendering you momentarily incapacitated. Your body crumples, and you find yourself on your knees, clutching your head, desperately trying to block out the piercing ringing in your ears.

Amidst the torment, your consciousness is abruptly whisked away, transported to an ethereal realm. It is a dream-like state, observing the world through the lens of another's mind. The golden chandeliers cast a cascade of shimmering light upon turning corners and ornate doors, as the person you are connected to races frantically through the maze-like passages.

The frenzied movement abruptly halts, and your vision pulsates in tandem with the rapid beat of a heart. It’s Leon’s voice echoing through the recesses of your mind, a hidden depth of anger and desperation at the heart of his control. "I feel you," he utters, a slight tremble of heartbreak. "You're in here. I know you're listening. Where are you? Why did you leave?"

Realization dawns upon you, a profound understanding that you are inhabiting Leon's thoughts, sharing his fears and confusion. The sheer intensity of the experience overwhelms you, and you cry out, "No, make it stop!" Your consciousness briefly returns to the physical realm, tears streaming down your face, the pain of the connection too much to bear. "It hurts!"

The ethereal realm engulfs you once more, Leon's emotional turmoil swirling around you. His voice billows with remorse and longing. "It might... Things might have escalated a bit too quickly," he confesses, his tone laden with regret. "It's my fault, I got too cocky, too impatient. But I never wanted to scare you off. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. You have to trust me and open your eyes so I can do that, sweet girl, okay? I'll come get you. We’ll talk it out. You can’t run."

Confusion intertwines with the pain coursing through your being. Leon's words perplex you, as if there is a hidden meaning beneath his pleas. "My eyes?" you utter, the question hanging, unanswered.

Luis gets so loud that you’re brought back to your location for a split second. “Shit. Do not open your eyes!”

Leon hears what he says somehow — and it suddenly comes to you that if you’re in his head, he is also in your head. “Luis. I should have known.”

You feel a sharp pinch at the side of your neck that cannot even compete with the tremendous headache, and the vision begins to crumble, Leon getting fainter — his presence fading away, the last you hear of him is a furious and equally anguished, “Goddamnit, no!” before everything goes black.  

Luis detects the stirring of your consciousness before you do, and as your awareness is brought back from the dormant state you were in, he calls to you in the darkness surrounding everything. “Don’t open your eyes yet.”

You shift around, feeling the coolness of a rough surface against your back and the firmness of the stone floor beneath you. The silence is broken by a peculiar sound—an unsettling symphony of metallic echoes. Chains. Accompanied by Luis’ feet shuffling around, they slither across the ground, you can almost envision their length, extending and coiling, like serpents of iron, their echoes intertwine, creating an eerie melody because you can’t see them. 

“What are you doing?”

Luis's response is calm and purposeful. "Setting the scene," he explains. The sound of nails being hammered into stone with an underlying jingle punctuates his words, causing you to jump in surprise. "For Lancelot seeking his Guinevere."

The pieces start to come together, albeit slowly. "You want to trap him," you realize.

Luis acknowledges your understanding. "Wonderful, Princesita," he praises. "You catch on fast. Leon is connected to you somehow, and we can't progress if he sees through your eyes. So, we need to create an illusion."

Confusion and concern overflow as you question the feasibility of their plan. "But Leon is... He could be listening right now."

Luis dismisses your worries. "Do you feel that he is sharing your head at the moment?" he asks. The uncertainty in your response betrays your lack of knowledge. "Ey, you'd know," he asserts. "That means he isn't present. Perfect."

Doubts linger in your mind as you consider the risks. "Will it work? He's... well, I recently learned he's an agent. I don't think it'll be easy."

"Whose side are you on?" he teases, playful. But when he senses your unease, he quickly reassures you. "No worries, I get it. He's better with the ladies, I've learned."

You can't help but feel a pang of guilt. "Luis..."

He brushes off your concerns with understanding. "I'm almost done here. He's supposed to think you're alone, so you can't look at me when I tell you to open your eyes. I'll be hiding. Don't talk to me, don't acknowledge me, just wait."

Curiosity gets the better of you as you ask, "How are you going to..."

Luis's response is concise and determined. "It won’t be me who’s doing it. It will be you. I will be your distraction.” You hear his footsteps approaching, and something small but heavy being placed on the floor just beside you, hidden from your line of sight. “You’ll hide when he arrives, and when the time comes, I want you to shoot. Don’t worry, it’s a tranquilizer gun. Wish me luck so he won’t kill me on sight, eh?”

It doesn’t take long for him to signal you. 

You open your eyes, the darkness giving way to dimly lit surroundings. The scene before you is carefully arranged, meticulously designed to deceive. The chains that previously echoed through the room now come into view, hanging ominously from the winch on the ceiling, you follow the line with your eyes to see the other end is secured to the stone wall by a circle of nails. The clinks and clanks reverberate, amplifying the tension.

Luis is nowhere to be seen, but his presence lingers, a silent reassurance that you're not alone.

In the deafening silence, doubt gnaws at you, and you question the madness of your current circumstances. 

You’re unsure of what you truly desire, unable to look over how you really just found yourself going along with Luis's plan, not because it feels right, but because your mind is clouded, unable to think clearly. You feel like a reluctant child, accepting the path laid before you simply because it seems to be the only option available.

Uncertainty presses heavily upon you as you contemplate the impending encounter with Leon. Fear grips your thoughts, entwining with the deep-rooted emotions you still harbor for him. Despite the revelations and warnings about his true nature, your heart remains entangled in a web of love and trust, the idea of seeing him again evokes a conflicting mishmash of longing and apprehension. 

You find yourself yearning for his presence, against the knowledge that he is not the same person you once knew when the mere thought of his return conjures a happy expectation of hope within you, a desperate desire to be whisked away from the nightmarish reality that has unfolded — deep, deep down, you pine for him to be the savior, the one who can shield you from the horrors of this supernatural ordeal he inflicted upon you himself.

Yet, simultaneous fear engulfs your soul, you question your own liability, knowing that you still trust him, still harbor the potential to be swayed by his words and actions. The thought terrifies you, the notion that you might have readily agreed to his plans had he presented them differently, had he explained the sinister truth of the parasite in a more inviting manner. It's a terrifying realization, the awareness of your own susceptibility to his influence, and despite everything, he’s the only anchor you can hold on to not be swept away into that chaos. 

You want him to enter the room, to make everything right again, tell you all of this is a nightmare you made up in your head because in the real world you still miss him, and at the same time you also fear what his arrival may entail.

As if attuned to your thoughts, a prickle in your mind disrupts your musings—a subtle trickle of awareness, the sensation of being watched by an invisible presence sharing the same space as you.

So you wait, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the impending confrontation with Leon bearing down on you. Every second feels like an eternity as you strain to listen for any sign of his approach. The air grows heavy with anticipation, and your senses are on high alert.

Suddenly, a noise echoes through the chamber, a faint, careful creak of a door opening. Your breath catches in your throat, he was so deadly silent infiltrating the building this basement is in, and you scramble to crouch and hide behind stacked boxes facing his direction, praying to god he hasn’t heard you. 

His eyes search the room in  a hardened gaze, a mask of determination, scanning every corner, every shadow with professional coldness. 

Leon cuts through the silence, as if he’s been hurt by you somehow. "Come on, I know you’re here, you don’t need to hide from me, I’m just here to talk.. Don’t be afraid of me.”

Your heart aches at the sound of his voice, you fight back tears, reminding yourself that this is necessary, for both his sake and your own — you can’t crumble right now, absolutely dreading what actually hearing him out would do to you. 

Luis emerges from where he’s hiding, unknowingly coming to your rescue, stepping forward with calculated confidence. "Looking for someone, Leon?" he asks, dripping amused intrigue.

"Where is she?" Leon demands, and you’ve never heard him like that before — that bone-chillingly cold and intimidating, menacing, low tone is downright terrifying. 

“Not even a hola for your old friend?” 

Leon fucking pulls a gun on him and your heart jumps to your throat. “Where. is. she?”

Luis raises his hands in a placating gesture, a sly smile playing on his lips. "No need for violence, my friend. I'm here to help."

Leon's grip on his weapon tightens, his suspicion evident. "I don’t need your help anymore. Tell me where she is."

Luis chuckles softly with a trace of mischief. "Ah, the stubbornness of a man in love. But I'm afraid your Princesita is in another castle."

Anger flashes in Leon's eyes, his frustration mounting. "Don’t bullshit me Luis, I know she’s here. What are you up to?"

Luis takes a step closer, sympathetic as much as he’s purposeful. "I've done what you asked of me. She's safer without you." 

Leon's face contorts with disbelief and fury, threatening to consume him. "Safer? You have no idea what you’re talking about. There is no safer place on earth right now than by my side. The world's about to go shit. The President is down, and the impending mass vaccination is nothing but a precursor to chaos. Do you think this is some deranged lover’s obsession? No."

With hopeless resoluteness, Leon continues to pour out his frustrations and fears. "Someone, be it the WHO, Terrasave, or the BSAA, someone will eventually expose the truth about the parasite spreading through medicines. And when that happens, all hell will break loose — do you understand the scale of what I’m talking about? The illusion of a smooth and controlled resolution is nothing more than a lie, and we both damn well know it."

Emotions wash over Leon, leaving him vehement and exposed, self-deprecating, raw. "I may have failed in my mission, and I may have failed everyone, but I refuse to let her become a mindless puppet like those villagers and cultists. I won't let her perish chasing scope after scope for news articles that’ll get her killed. She's all I have left." His voice quivers with a defeated tenacity and desperation, he shakes his gun at Luis. "So yes, I made a choice. It's the right one. It's the only one. A choice where I can be with her, where she can stay safe. A choice where I become the monster, but I can’t care less about the consequences anymore. So, get out of my way, Luis, and take that getaway chopper of Ada's while I'm still giving you the chance. That a good deal?"

“What happens when Saddler loses?” Luis sighs through his nose, totally unaffected by all that talk. “What happens if you die on that hill?”

His question lingers for a moment before Leon responds, less baleful and more mournful, even accompanied with a strange sense of happiness. "I know the end. As long as I get to die in her arms, it doesn't matter."

In that instant, something within you snaps. The anguished anger and the raw empathy you feel for Leon flow through your veins, overpowering any rational thought. Without hesitation, you make a decision that feels both natural and inevitable — to shoot the tranquilizer. 

You pull the trigger, the dart finding its mark with an unsettling precision, and time slows as you watch it puncture his skin, him flinching with a hand clamping around the dart and yanking it out, his wide, red eyes finding yours as you stand up, the realization dawning in his eyes. 

You want to cry when it’s relief and happiness that comes first to him upon seeing you as if on instinct, and confusion and hurt wash over his features next as he sees what’s in your hands. It's a sight that cuts through your heart. He staggers, toward you, his body fighting against the encroaching numbness, as if defying the very fate that befalls him. With outstretched arms, he reaches for you, fingers trembling, yearning for connection amidst the sense of betrayal. 

Yet, despite his desperate efforts, his strength fails him. His legs give way beneath him, and he tumbles to the ground, his reach falling short. You watch, your heart splitting in two, as he crumples in a heap of confusion. His fingers graze at where your presence is, a touch that never finds its mark.

In the waning moments before unconsciousness claims him, his eyes search yours, pleading for answers that you struggle to provide. You stand rooted to the spot, grappling with guilt and anguish, questioning the validity of your actions, second-guessing the choices that have led to this heartbreaking scene.

As Leon finally succumbs to the claim of the tranquilizer, his body surrendering to the oblivion of unconsciousness, you're left with your final commitment, crystal clear. 

Your heart was set on this from the start. You were just too scared to admit it. 

You’ll stay with him in this darkness.

Leon’s all alone here, knows he’s doomed by the narrative, can’t leave — and all he thought throughout that was you and what would happen to you. 

You can’t leave this man in the solitude of tragedy, with the first ever selfishness of his was seeking you out despite himself to protect you. No moment has solidified his love for you more than this. How he thinks of you tremendously. 

You can’t not love this man. You can’t bring yourself to obey his wishes and abandon him.

The lamb doesn’t want to leave the slaughterhouse. 

With a heavy yet determined tone, you utter the words that seal your fate. "Go, Luis."

Luis protests, filled with concern and a touch of reluctance. "You can’t—"

Tears well up in your eyes as you gaze at Leon's unconscious form, lying helpless on the cold ground. The depth of your emotions overwhelms you, but you gather your resolve. "I can't abandon him now. Not after everything he's been through. He needs someone by his side."

Luis hesitates, torn between honoring your wishes and his genuine concern for your well-being, making a final attempt to persuade you. "I understand your heartache, but you're risking everything for him. Are you sure about this? There's so much at stake — you’ll become just like him, you know? You’ll never be able to leave Los Illuminados and go back to your old life."

“You don’t get it do you? It’s true that I'm scared, Luis. Scared of what lies ahead, the stuff you’ve talked about is straight out of a dystopian novel. But I'm more scared of losing him in all of this.” It haunts you how he said it doesn’t matter if he gets to die in your arms, no regard for his own well-being and health. Leon has never cared for himself enough, that much you know, but to think his entire system has collapsed like this, to the point where he’s let himself go entirely and came to you while wounded… It’s something you can’t turn a blind eye to. A cry for help you can’t ignore. “He looked for me in this chaos. Underneath all of the excuses of protection, Leon’s just scared. He doesn’t want to be alone.” You can’t look away now that you’ve seen everything. “I can’t go back anyway after knowing this. I’d never forgive myself. It's better to face whatever’s coming with him, no matter what horrors it holds.”

“There’s absolutely nothing I can do to change your mind?”

The fact that he’s set on doing this and looking out for you until the last second because he has promised Leon and is truly concerned warms your heart up. “You really should catch that ride before it’s too late.” 

“You’re making a mistake.” His concern mingles with a touch of admiration for your unwavering will. “But he’s hell of a lucky bastard to have you by his side throughout it all. This is the sacrifice of your life, I’m not joking. And I hope it’ll be worth it.”

He’s not like you, and that’s okay. You actually admire and envy his sense of self-preservation overweighs his loyalty and promise to Leon, that’s how a normal person should be. But the situation is far from normal, and you’re infected by a mind-altering parasite for fuck’s sake, and you’re not even sure you’re going through the quarter of what Leon has. 

“Thank you Luis.” Touched by his understanding, you reach out and take Luis's hand, gratitude shining through. “For everything.”

A somber atmosphere settles in the room as Luis grows more melancholic. He takes a deep breath before making his final request. "Before I go, there's one last thing I want to ask. Considering we don't know how he’ll react when he wakes up, I think it's best to be cautious. We should chain him up, just to be safe. I don't want him accidentally hurting you in his confused state."

You hesitate, unsure about the idea of restraining Leon, but Luis's earnestness compels you to consider it. "I don't think he would ever harm me..."

Luis interrupts gently. "Oye, let me worry about that, Las Plagas is unpredictable and dangerous. Do me this favor, it’s the least you can do to pay me back, yeah? A little caution won't hurt. And if Leon questions it, you can blame me. I can handle it from a safe distance out of his reach in the comfort of my luxury ride."

With Luis's words echoing in your mind, both of you set to work, struggling like you’re trying to roll a boulder up a hill with the weight of Leon's unconscious body. The effort is tremendous, sweat pouring down your faces as you maneuver his unexpectedly heavy frame. 

Exhausted from the strenuous task, Luis hands you the key, his face flushed with exertion as you finally finish securing Leon in chains. The room is filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the sound of your own labored breaths.

As the unvoiced question of what happens now makes itself known between you two, caught in the tension between Luis’ desire to stay and the necessity of his departure. His words come out disconnected, hesitant, obviously having an awkwardness that comes from bidding farewell under such circumstances. "Well..." he begins, trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "It was a pleasure to know you, Princesita." His smile is half-hearted, betraying the mixed emotions within him. "I hope we never have to meet again."

The unexpected humor in his remark catches you off guard, and a genuine laugh escapes your lips, the sound reverberating through the room, mingling with the faint clinking of the chains as Leon stirs behind you, his presence a constant reminder of what you’ve decided to get yourself into.

Luis's insistence breaks through the brief moment of levity as he implores you, his eyes flicking between you and Leon's kneeling form. "Take care of him," he urges, a sense of responsibility coloring his words. "And yourself."

You offer him a reassuring smile, endlessly thankful for his guidance in getting you to realize Leon’s perspective. "Will do. You too, Luis," you respond, nothing but warmth in your heart for him as you acknowledge his efforts. "Don't feel bad about not being able to help us, please? You've done all you can."

He nods once, his features a blend of bittersweet defeat and acceptance. With a final glance, he retreats into the shadows, his presence fading away. The room feels emptier without him, and sadness washes over you, a stab of guilt for potentially failing him now that you are left alone with your thoughts and the finality of the decision you have made.

The room remains shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint sound of Leon's steady breaths and the gentle rattling of the chains that bind him. 

Your gaze inevitably falls upon him, bound and unconscious before you. 

The sight of him, held captive by the chains, elicits strange emotions that defy explanation. There is an undeniable allure that emanates from his restrained form, drawing you in despite the chaos that surrounds you. It is a conflicting blend of fascination and revulsion, a cocktail of sensations that confound your senses. You should be consumed by panic, overwhelmed by the dire circumstances and the looming threat of the parasite within you. Yet, in this moment, a strange calm settles within your being. Is it the influence of the parasite that dulls your anxieties, or is it a resolute acceptance of the path you have chosen?

Despite the restraints that hold him captive, there is an undeniable attractiveness that surrounds him, gluing your eyes to the sight before you.

Kneeling on the floor, Leon’s muscular physique is accentuated by the susceptible position he finds himself in, the chains tightly holding his wrists above his head, rendering him defenseless and at your mercy. His sculpted arms, stretched taut and slightly strained, display the evidence of his strength even in his helpless state, veins beneath his skin appear more pronounced, as if awakened by the touch of captivity and the strain of gravity. His tousled locks of blond hair cling to his forehead and darken in shade where they meet with sweat, adding to his prettiness. Even in his unconsciousness, there is a magnetism that emanates from his chiseled features — strong jawline, cheekbones, and glistening lips that have known both determination and tenderness. The pinch of his eyebrows low over his eyes adds a touch of rugged toughness, contrasting with the vulnerability imposed upon him by the chains. His chest rises and falls rhythmically, betraying the calmness of his unconscious state. Light and shadow dance across his defined torso, revealing the slopes and curves that bear witness to his physical prowess. 

It is an unintended pull that arises from the juxtaposition of strength and exposure, dominance and surrender. The image of Leon bound and kneeling, his arms raised and secured by the unyielding chains, creates a powerful visual dichotomy — a captivating blend of control and submitting, strength and fragility.

You didn’t know you were into BDSM. Is this what it is? Why the hell does he look so mouth watering in chains to you when there are more dire matters to feel about — you are being a giant pervert about an unconscious man. Sympathy, desire, and protectiveness intertwine, blurring the lines between what is right and what is alluring. In this moment, you are both drawn to his physical presence and compelled to ensure his well-being, torn between the magic of his bound form and the urge to set him free to not let your thoughts run further.

You have no idea how much time passes before Leon's eyes flutter open, blinking away the haze of unconsciousness, and you stand up from where you were sitting, hands clasped before you in an anxious gesture, fearing his reaction. Panic briefly flashes across his face when the drowsiness clears enough for him to notice he’s bound by heavy chains, his arms held aloft and his movements restricted — the harsh tug on the chains makes you jump and that’s how he spots you standing nearby, concern etched on your features.

"You’re okay," Leon breaks the silence, his words a murmured astonishment. It's not a question, nor is it a statement of certainty. It's an observation imbued with gratitude. He's taken aback, as if his mind is struggling to comprehend that you are here with him at all. That’s the first thing he worries about? That’s what he cares about? “You stayed.”

The corner of your lips tugs upward in a soft, bittersweet smile. "Yeah, I did," you reply. The way he looks at you, as if you hold a small piece of his shattered world together, tugs at your heartstrings.

Leon’s more wary and threat-seeking when he brings up the stranger. “Luis?”  

You start playing with your fingers. "He left.” A pause. “It was my decision.” 

He sits up straighter, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Is… that so?”

It’s so bizarre having a serious conversation with him in chains now that you’re living it. “I’m… I’m sorry for the chains, I, Luis, uh—”

“No, I get it.” He says it like it’s a given and he doesn’t mind it — and that’s when you’re reminded again that he’s a specially trained agent, that’s where the attitude weirdly used to these kinds of things has to come from. “I haven’t given you a reason to trust me.” He gazes at you, his eyes betraying remorsefully hidden emotions, voice dropping down to a low whisper. “Yet you stayed anyway even when I’m like this. I never thought... I never expected anyone would ever, for me… You know.”

Your heart is a soaked towel and he has just wrenched it dry. The way he sees himself physically hurts. "I couldn't leave you, Leon.” You sniffle, head shaking as you confess, revealing your devotion. “I could never leave you."

He reaches out, his restrained hands straining against the chains, as if longing to touch you, to reassure you of his own unwavering devotion. But all he can offer is his words. "That’s all I’ve been terrified of," he admits. It stays unknown to you if the subject of the sentence is you leaving him or you not leaving him. "Ever since I caught myself falling for you, that’s what all this has been about and — this shit inside me amplifies the worst in me, and you’re still here. Damnit.” 

Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. "Leon, you are not alone in this." You want to kiss away all worries and fears he keeps to himself, now in front of you in all of their intricate, overthought glory. "I made this choice because I believe in you. I believe in us."

His gaze intensifies, searching you for any trace of doubt or unease. But all he finds is unwavering faith, and a love that refuses to be shaken. "I don't deserve you," he murmurs,  barely above a whisper. All of a sudden, the tiredness you know all so well pushes down on him. "Not after everything."

A soft smile graces your lips, a gentle warmth spreading through your entire being. Luis is wrong. He is definitely wrong — this is Leon, and he’ll always be Leon. "And I don’t deserve your love." He immediately looks like he’s going to disagree on the spot, but you don’t give him the chance. "But here we are anyway. I'm here, no matter what. I’ve made my choice. If you’ll have me too—"

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly. "I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe," he vows, engraved with purpose. Just the way he says it could be added to a resume, the self-confidence and intentness of a professional in his field behind the power. "I'll prove to you that I can be the person you deserve."

"Leon, I already know the person you are. And I'm not going anywhere."

Leon's widened gaze inflames, breathing becoming more labored as he hangs his head down and nods a couple times while hiding his face from you. “Okay.”

You didn’t expect that to make you burst out laughing, and his head shoots up when he hears your laughter echoing in the chamber. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth, turning around to not let him see and think you’re mocking him. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” You manage to turn it down to snickering, screaming at yourself to stop already. “It’s just… that was so unironically you and… God, help. I don’t know why this is so funny to me—”

“Okay...”

“Stop! Stop saying okay.” You laugh again at his intonation, pushing the back of your hand against your nose. “That’s all you can say?”

Some sort of fascination surfaces beneath his stoic mask, like he’s someone who’s hearing the birds chirp for the first time. “Actually, I have a lot to say, but…” You watch him rise, his height allowing him to hold his chained wrists on his waist level. He reaches out with his shackled hands, beckoning you to come to his side, yearning for a connection, “You’re too far away for it.”

You jokingly tease. “Will you be a good boy?”

It has an immediate effect on him, sweet adoration stains into something suggestive, lingering between you like a charged current, and you can feel the shift in his demeanor, the warning tilt of his head, the faint red shine swallowing the blue of his eyes, the chains rattling as he grabs onto them in a tight, restrained grip, body tensing, a coiled energy barely contained. 

As his voice emerges in a single, sharp syllable, a low and husky whisper, “Don’t,” it sends a shiver all over your body. The words are measured, deliberate, and carry an undertow of caution that both entices and warns. It's a dark invitation. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

It’s not just you. 

You’re both fucked up. 

And you take a step closer, closing the distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest, and he watches you like a hawk. “I’m just asking a question.”

His eyes glow with an intense crimson hue in response, piercing through the dim light, making you halt when there’s only about five feet left between you and him. Black veins spread across his skin like intricate patterns of ancient curses, marking him up. And extending from his lower back, a large scorpion-like tail emerges, its barbed stinger poised in the air, and just as how the spine is a series of individual vertebrae, small bones stacked one upon the other, his tail too is articulated, allowing it to curl like a snake, curving and undulating with an eerie grace, almost as if it has a life of its own.

It dances through the air, floating towards you, its presence both beguiling and unsettling. You watch, apprehensive and curious, as Leon manipulates his tail, rotating it to show you every angle. As he nudges you gently with it, an unexpected tenderness shines through his alien appearance. "It won't hurt you," he emphasizes, a soothing reassurance. He looks like a creature plucked from the pages of a fantastical novel, but his care for you remains undeniable. "Try touching it."

You observe the chitinous exoskeleton, marveling at its texture and the otherworldly allure it possesses. "Will you feel it?" you ask, a snap of fidget in your curiosity.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a flicker of a mischievous smile playing at the corner of his lips. "That's a dangerous thing to want, don't you think?" His words carry a double meaning, an underlying invitation to explore the depths of desire that lies beneath the surface. In that moment, you realize you've unknowingly become a participant in his intricate game, a delicate dance of discovering boundaries.

"Leon, half-insect or not, I would want every part of you," you confess, unapologetically honest and smoking with desire. A swelling of boldness overtakes you, fueled by a mix of desire and affection. You take a step closer, your hand reaching out to grasp his tail. The texture surprises you—smooth and warm, defying the expectations of a creature born from nightmares. Leon's tail jerks slightly in response to your touch, the connection between you both sending a jolt of static through where you’re touching, and he is momentarily stunned, his ardor momentarily subdued by your unabashed declaration. “I want you, always.”

"Alright, alright. You made your point," he interrupts, a flicker of bashfulness visible beneath his attempt to maintain a composed facade. The teasing spark in his eyes is replaced by a rare sentiment, his emotions laid bare before you. "Well. " Some sort of self-consciousness fogs his expression as he looks down. "Though I do feel the same,"  he concedes, pink creeping across his cheeks.

But you're not finished. You close the remaining distance between you, your eyes locked with his. "Leon, I love you." You pour your heart into those three words, stronger, unmoving, louder, hoping he understands the depth of your affection if he hasn’t gotten it yet.

He looks away for a brief moment, his gaze fixated on something indiscernible, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah," he mumbles softly, almost lost in the space between you.

Undeterred, you reach out to gently grasp his face, turning his gaze back to meet yours. "I love you," you repeat, scolding him that he’s not taking you seriously. You want him to hear it, to understand the magnitude of your feelings.

A flicker of surprise crosses his features, quickly replaced by something akin to relief, leaning into your touch as if you’re the coolness he needs on a hot summer day. He likes hearing it from you, that much is clear, but the unfamiliarity of the sentiment leaves him momentarily at a loss for words. "Okay," he finally responds, his voice a soft affirmation.

You're about to reprimand him, demanding that he say the words you long to hear in return before you unchain him. But before you can voice your frustration, a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over you, throwing your world into disarray. Your vision blurs, the room spinning and tilting on its axis. You desperately blink, hoping to clear your sight, but the disorientation only worsens. The force of gravity seems to intensify, tugging at your stomach and weakening your legs, causing you to stumble forward. The pain strikes you with a merciless blow, knocking you off balance and into Leon's waiting arms. Your hands, once cradling his face, now find purchase on his shoulders for support.

"Hey!" The weight of your limp body causes Leon to follow you down, sinking to his knees just as you do. However, the chains that bind his arms above his head prevent him from fully supporting your torso. In a swift motion, he maneuvers his tail to secure your body against his, stopping you from falling backward. Your head lolls on his shoulder, basically shaking against him.

"Hang in there, come on," he pleads, trying to reach you. "Talk to me, what's happening?"

Struggling to keep the pain under a manageable level, you reply briefly, not wanting to talk. "I don't know... Felt… dizzy..."

"Shit, okay," he curses softly, his concern deepening. "Does it hurt?"

You just make a curt sound, wanting him to let it go and keep yourself from flopping like a fish out of water on the ground from how it’s ripping you apart. 

“I gotta know if it does. Can you tell me?”

You’re suffering, how does he not see? Does he need verbal affirmation that badly?

“Yeah,” you say behind gritted teeth. “Sure does.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to sting you, alright? Only a drop of venom into your bloodstream,” he explains as merciful and comforting as he’s able in your state.  “You’ll feel a pinch but it’ll relax you. It might put you in an… aroused state because of your parasite, but you’ll no longer feel pain — it’ll feel good. I’ll take care of you.”

The mention of the potential side effects of whatever he wants to do to you makes your brow furrow in confusion, but there's no time to dwell on it. The pain has become unbearable, hacking at your every thought. "I'll feel good?" you question, dying for any kind of escape from the burning.

"Yeah," Leon affirms, a tenderness that reaches deep into your soul. "You'll feel good."

A stream of questions floods your mind, but Leon interrupts before you can voice them. "Not now," he interjects, pressing the syllables with more stress and emphasis. "Will you let me take care of you?"

His distress resonates with your own need for relief. "Yes," you respond without hesitation. "Yes, okay. This pain is killing me, just do it."

With a swift movement, his scorpion-like tail hovers near your exposed nape, its barbed stinger poised and ready.

"I promise, it'll be over soon," Leon whispers, dead set on his goal. "Just hold on."

The venomous tip of his tail makes contact with your skin and a sharp pinch sends a jolt of sensation through your body, but the initial pain subsides almost instantly, replaced by a soothing coolness that spreads from the injection site. It's an odd sensation, the venom working its way through your bloodstream, numbing the pain and replacing it with a peculiar mix of relaxation and heightened sensitivity.

A soft exhale is pulled from your lips as the effects continue taking hold, the relief washing over you like a gentle wave, and you melt against Leon, wrapping yourself around him, having automatically sought him out on pure instinct. He carefully adjusts his sitting and goes down on the balls of his feet to allow you to crawl on him, ensuring you're comfortable, his tail retracting to support your back for a more comfortable embrace.

"You're doing great," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody amidst the chaos. "Just let it take effect, I’m here."

The heaviness in your limbs dissipates, replaced by a newfound lightness, as if a mass has been lifted from your body. The world around you becomes hazy, the edges blurred as the arousal Leon had warned about intertwines with the relief spreading through your veins, 

It begins with a tingling warmth that spreads across your limbs, akin to tiny sparks dancing on your flesh, and then, the heat gradually intensifies, caressing your senses with a gentle yet invigorating burn that awakens every nerve ending. But amidst the rising warmth, the usual wave of the venom’s coolness follows, like a frosty breath gently kissing your skin. The burn and the coolness entwine, creating an annoying race of who gets to be on top. The heat stimulates your awareness, drawing attention to how good it feels to have Leon’s strong body against you, how you would like more, how you want to explore this new form of his as he’s ribboned up like a present before you; but simultaneously, the coolness acts as a tranquil connection to reality, tempering the fiery sensations with its gentle touch.

Leon’s unique smell underneath your nose pours into your circulation from your heaving lungs, you snuggle in to get more of his scent, in the crook of his neck, right behind his ear… You can’t help but rub your head against it like it could somehow pass to your own body — it’s all instinct, the space of your head pleasantly misty, the feeling of only wanting to get closer wiggling enthusiastically inside. You notice your hands are on the move later, running up his sides and his back, only when you feel the ripple of bumps on his spine following your fingers gliding up and down as if responding to your touch. 

“Leon…” He sucks in a sibilant sound when your nails run down his back, momentarily shivering against you. “Leon…”

“Yes, I’m here.” It’s his tail that cuddles you against him because his hands are unavailable. “What do you need, sweet girl, hm?”

How do you say you want to fuck his brains out and do as you wish with him as he’s chained when he can’t retaliate, and how turned on you’re getting by the minute? “I need you.”

You hear the chains rattle and glance up briefly to see his hands balled up in the restraints. “How do you need me?”

His tendency to take things slow and enjoy the augmentation of need as it builds up is a formidable adversary to the you of the present, the frustration is testing the limits of your endurance. There’s something carnal in the way you want him right now, eating away at your patience for playing games with him. 

You rise on your knees still framing the outside of his thighs, and taking advantage of the small difference of height it gives you, yank his hair back to make Leon look up at you, his eyebrows arch upward in an arc, the ascent giving away the shock, and his mouth falls agape, lips parting to release a whispered exclamation “I don’t need this dirty talk, I want your dick in my throat.” You stare him down, catching your reflection in his red eyes and see that the same blight webbing him up is also infesting you, shining in your eyes in the same shade of crimson as his. You simply don’t care. “Is that a satisfying answer?”  

His chin lowers, leering lascivious, and you swear the veins on his face become a more prominent shade of black. “Jesus Christ.” He yanks on the chains, the harsh sound higher in pitch with the power behind it. “Gimme the key.”

“Nooooot gonna.” He leans towards you when you scooch away from his lap, but is unable to chase you fully. You fixate on his crotch, mouth watering, throat anticipating taking in his shape, phantom soreness reminding you what’s coming. You reach out to his thighs and place your palms on his knees, running them up awfully slow, feeling the rigidifying limbs under your touch. 

“Huh? Hey, what do you mean—” He’s stuck between trying to get up and staying that way for you. “What, you’re not untying me?”

“Shut up, I’m in heat right now.” You pop the button of his jeans and bring down the zipper, palming his half-hard bulge above his underwear. “Stop complaining.”

His hips jolt up into your hand, eyes fleetingly rolling behind his head from the satisfying contact, and his cock continues to swell up in your hand, straining against the confines of his briefs. “I’m not complaining — ”

You yank his underwear down, his head popping free and dangling, you bring the underwear underneath his hips along with his jeans with a little help from him rising up and allowing them to slide down better. “You brought this on me, so I’ll feel good the way I want to. Stop. Talking.” 

Chuckling in an underestimating mirth, he’s in the middle of saying, “Yes, ma’am—” mockingly when you lift the edge of his top up to shove the crumpled fabric into his mouth, exposing the carved dips and curves of his chest and stomach. He’s rendered shellshocked for only a second before he lukewarmly glares at you, that’s how you know he doesn’t hate it and only acts like he does. That interested swishing of his tail would be enough to break the chains, but he doesn’t attempt it at all. A silent communication passes between you two, that this is an extension of the role-reversal sex you had the day he left for Spain, and he makes it clear he’s down for whatever you want to do with him. 

Without breaking eye contact, you kiss down his chest and the pads of your fingertips glide along his heated, soft and firm skin, and slow down when you reach the plane of his pronounced abs that tense with each lick and open-mouthed nibble from you, the tautness increasing when the way down from his navel and the path you follow along the veins end up becoming torturously unhurried. 

He has to breathe from his nose, and you pick up where he is on the scale of impatience from his control breaking for it to seep into how sharp or deep they become 

You decide to go on your stomach for now,  letting him remain perched, the coldness filtering into your clothes from the ground not really all that important compared to drinking in all of Leon’s crumpled microexpressions. 

A satisfied noise rises from him as you take him into your hand and give a couple pumps and purposefully stick your tongue out to let your spit dribble considerably on it for better slip and slide, he’s starting to get red in the face. 

And when he thinks it’s about to start with the usual opening of getting him in the mood by the standard jerk-off and the buildup from there, you catch him off-guard by taking him all the way into your throat in one go, concentrating to keep your gagging and choking at a manageable bodily response that won’t make you recoil and start coughing — and surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt, whatever’s in that stinger of his is making everything feel different, you are actually scratching an itch at the back of your throat with Leon and it feels so fucking good to give him head and hearing him respond so eagerly to it. 

The sound he makes despite holding his shirt up with his mouth is choked and powerful as his hips jerk forward and pushes into your mouth, his guttural whine stutters from Leon as you swallow around him. He can’t talk and respond or tell you how you’re doing, but all the pretty noises, from gruff groans, to desperate humming, and restrained moaning tell you all about how he’s feeling. 

You run your nails along the skin underneath his naval and the muscles there jump, the bobbing of your head picking up unexpectedly as you’re literally working to rip his climax off, and he doesn’t feel it sneak up on him, breathing getting more rapid and panicked at how fast you’re wrenching it out of his dick and unconscious shallow thrusts meeting your movements right in the middle — you know exactly when he’s about to come from the slight swell of his dick in down your fluttering esophagus and the tightening of his stomach. 

That’s when you stop and take him out with an audible pop, your lips puffed and red, eyes teary. It twitches before slapping against him and his shirt falls from his teeth in an agonized and disappointed groan as his hips stutter forward in an attempt to search for friction, the fucking saliva trail connecting his lips to the fabric makes your heartbeat swoop downwards. “Why? I was right there!—”

You bat your eyelashes at him, blowing cold air on his denied arousal. “I know, baby.”

“You…” His lips draw back in the middle of a low sound at you gripping his base and giving the head kitten licks, alternating between swirling your tongue around and focusing on sucking the tip only. “Ah, what the fuck.” Your tongue delves into the slit of his head and precum gushes forward, his teeth are exposed in a breathy sharp hiss and a jolt.  “Yeah, that’s it… Shit.” 

The view of his fat chest and his strained, sweat-glistening strong neck swallowing is divine, you pick up the momentum again just to see him get worked up enough to throw his head back for the sight of his striking Adam’s apple, the black veins are doing something else to you that has your insides flipping.

You catch the glimpse of his tail swishing in the air, curling at tandem with your movements. You try taking all of him again to see how it’ll move and the sudden stop and trill has you wanting some friction between your legs. “Fuu—ck, your mouth is a vision, full of me.”

You lick along the bigger vein trailing up under his cock. “Does it feel that good?”

He only nods and thrums a small shudder, but you don’t let him off the leash just yet. “How easy.” Leon’s eyes snap open at the audacity. “Being chained and played with like this…” You give him a particularly harsh pump and the chains jangle because of his sudden tug. “Letting it happen because you want it so much. Desperate to be fucked.”

The degradation alone gets him to pulsate in your hand a couple times, his brow wrinkles as if he’s suffering. “You like this.” You drag a sluggardly strong grip up his weeping cock and his tail whips the ground. “Say it.”

His muscles tense and release, creating a rhythmic movement beneath the surface of his groin upon your teeth getting into the mix. “Shit — I love it.” His arms flex, causing his shackles to rattle. “Everything you do — everything you do to me feels amazing. Keep going, nearly there, I’m about to—”

You hum around him, and he clearly feels the vibrations, rising his hips in an unbelievably hot fluid movement and cursing under his breath, ruby-stained eyes glassy and feverish and mouth thinned and bit from inside. His thighs caging you begin to shake, and you’re made aware he’s close again. 

And this time, it’s him who knows you’ll pull back when he needs it the most. “Oh no, you don’t.” 

Something coils around your torso and pins you in place so his dick can’t slip out of your mouth, you struggle for air and attempt to pull back, but Leon barges in on your alarm, hoarse and gravelly. “Easy, it’s just me, don’t worry.”

Your hands grasp to the fabric of the jeans on the inside of his thighs, finally able to comprehend he used his tail to bind you — surprisingly gentle yet immovable, it doesn’t suffocate you, nor hurt you in any way. 

Mouth still around him, you look up to see he’s watching you, possessing a smoldering zeal, hunger a glint on a knife’s edge, shadow of a sly smile dances upon his lips, a knowing smirk, a sense of assuredness amplifying how he has you, one that reveals all that he’s thinking and claims control from your hands. With every heavy breath he takes, his chest rises and falls, revealing the heightened state of his arousal, and it seems his irises glow a shade darker crimson, a pulsating energy radiating from him, a palpable magnetism that ignites a fire within your own being.

“I’m going to move us around, stay still.” 

He makes sure to remove his erection from your mouth without hurting you before it’s with a natural predator’s grace he rises and stands up, his tail maneuvering you around to sit on your knees right in front of him, and you can only gape as he wraps the excess of chains around his wrists so they don’t get in the way, his forearms and biceps pop like they belong to a god like this. 

“Pretty mouth, waiting just for me.” At this height, he’s able to reach down and run a thumb along your bottom lip and push in, rubbing through the length of your tongue, fascinated.  

The giant appendage, then, unwinds around you, but much to your astonishment, doesn’t slither away, the thinnest end sneaking its way between your thighs instead and your legs clamp around it, but the drag forward defying your refusal has you squeaking. God, the jointed nature of it, like some weirdly shaped anal beads, is acting as periodic zaps moving against your heated sex. It even has the strength to fucking lift you up. Your panties are going to be ruined at this rate. “Leon, what—”

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You’re boosted up when it gives you a particularly harsh press, stars shooting everywhere in your vision with the delicious press not just focusing on one area, but rolling through your clit and dipping to make your entrance contract. “I’ll move it, you focus on taking me.”

Fuck, this is basically the thigh riding from before but on another level, that’s so hot —  

His manacled hands wrap around the angry red of his cock, the size of his hands so titillating fisting the length. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth, is that okay?”

You reflexively swallow, mouth watering instantly. “Please. Please.”

“Such a good girl, begging for my cock down your throat. I can’t refuse when you plead like that.” He rewards you by a rich thrust of his tail forward, your eyes closing in delight, you’re sure that a wet spot is forming with all that moving around. “Open up.” 

You obey and loosen your jaw as much as you can to let him set the pace, hands grabbing on the moving appendage between your legs in preparation to be used like some glory hole, but unlike your aggressive start from before, Leon is much more deliberate and unhurried in bottoming out, your head is swimming in a sea of dizzyingly gratifying smog, white and blanked out as he pleasures you through it. 

You get so lost in it that he sharply hisses and caresses your forehead with shaking hands and has to warn, “No teeth, sweet girl. Relax… Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so well, so perfect, making me feel so good.” 

You don’t mean to mewl around him the way you do, but his praises are so sweet as if he’s always getting his dick sucked for the first time, makes you feel appreciated, makes you feel special. 

Tears are streaming down your face, saliva drooling down your chin, you’re sure you’re gonna have a sore throat after this, and that sight would be ugly and messy to you, something you wouldn’t want to show anyone, needlessly embarassing, but it spurs Leon on, he craves prettying you up as he says, loves that you become a mess just for him — and you had missed all of that being a sign of neediness before all this. He loves the feeling of being special just as you do, loves that he’s able to get you filthy like this. 

“Shit — can’t believe I get to have this forever, now… Never thought… Never—” He breathily laughs, the sound turning into a wanton growl as your throat constricts through his drawn-out, unrushed thrusts. He’s babbling like a man in a confessional, speed beginning to pick up, the movement of his tail also reflecting the frenetic climb, sending your snowballing itch spiraling into completion. “Don’t care what happens anymore — don’t care, don’t care, only need this—sah, fuck!”  

His hands hastily rest on top of your hand to keep you in place and you whine and squeal, his stretch digging impossibly further down, a long groan echoing in the chamber at the same time of something metallic shattering and falling off with incredible strength, Leon’s hips twitching in place with your nose buried deep in the fuzz of hair at the base of his cock. Waves of warm spurts drizzle down your esophagus, and you don’t taste anything, but have a go at swallowing on instinct, and it coerces a strained, debauched moan out of him. 

His tail moves to pull you away from him and you sit back on your heels, shaking more so from your impending orgasm being pulled right under your feet like a rug because of the abrupt halt of the rhythm, unable to stop the coughing, wrapping a hand around your throat for dampening the soreness, and before you know it, his lips have taken the place of your hand, smothering your neck and your face with kisses. 

“You did so good. A fucking angel of sin — for me only.” He doesn’t hesitate to entwine his tongue with yours tenderly as if it’s a honeyed treat to lap up, his gratitude and enthusiasm running high as before. The way he speaks into your mouth gets you pressing your legs together to ease the painful, sweet throbbing between your legs. “You were amazing, sucked the soul out of me, holy shit.”

A whiny, “Leon,” and a tug on his shirt is all he needs to know you need him.  

“I know sweet girl, I have you.” His tail sneaks around your waist again, loose in case of your refusal. In the corner of your eye, you see the winch fastening the chains on the ceiling is squashed on the floor, yet his hands are still bound. “You trust me to make you feel good, right?”

“Yes, always.”

“You can say no if you don’t like this.” The sensation of being moved so easily by something alien is frightening as much as it’s arousing when it’s coming from Leon, your anticipation is about to drip down your legs at his tail gently propelling you up to stand on both feet steadily and turning you around so your back is facing Leon. You are bent down from the waist, and the fear of falling makes you jump, but the appendage is fully supporting you, almost making you float, you could stand on your tiptoes with full body weight and you wouldn’t crash on your forehead. “Is this alright?”

You are about to break down in a series of tremors from how much this is turning you on. “Yeah.”

His hands run along your tailbone. “I’m going to chain your wrists behind your waist. That okay?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“Tell me if it’s too tight.” He doesn’t need to reach for your hands, you align them to rest on your waist on top of each other. He does adjust them a bit and sets you straight after you crane your neck to take a good look at what he’s doing — you’re only able to get a single frame of him unwinding some of the restraints around his wrists to bind them around yours, affectively connecting both your shackled wrists together in a short line of chain. One of his hands grabs and tugs, securing his tail around your torso a bit better at the same time. “How is that? Any discomfort?”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Can you please just fuck me already, I’m about to die.”

He lets you go to slide two fingers up your clothed pussy, your folds quite literally pulsing at the contact. “It’s burning up —- you want to brand me, huh?”

You don’t indulge in his running mouth, just wanting to enjoy the fiery pleasure his fondling fingers light in their wake. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He switches to pulling your pants down together with your panties, but not all the way down, making it hang in the middle of the most supple part of your thighs, efficaciously getting them to act as yet another restraint, this time, around your legs so you won’t be able to part them. Two digits easily slide inside and you yelp, held in place mercilessly. “Fuck,” he says, faintly, a subdued composure, the voice going straight to your pussy and making you clench over his fingers. “You eat me up so eagerly. That hungry, sweet girl?”

Your head’s tingling and buzzing from all that rush of blood in this position, everything gets more overwhelming when you bow your head. You just want him inside you. “Please…”

 You pitifully moan at the loss of your fingers, and the brief squeeze of his tail is comforting. “I’ll relieve you.” The replacement of his bulbous tip running through your lower lips is enough stimulation for your toes to curl inside your shoes. 

You’re shaking with the release of your anticipation, and he curses. “Fuck, you’re sucking me in.” The same chain that binds you both rattles when he grabs your bound wrists, your eyes widening at how his tail also simultaneously pulls you towards him to sink into his girthy length, working together with his hips. 

He’s working you. Using you. Manhandling you, drilling you into him like he’s using a fleshlight as he pleases and everything feels so euphoric, your mind descending into a foggy, floaty bliss despite the tears of instant gratification; the whole burden of responsibility, decision-making, and external pressures melt away and only he exists, and the ecstasy Leon’s spoon-feeding you.

He checks in on you, pulling on your binds, voice tight. “Feel good, sweet girl?” 

“I wa—” You hiccup, followed by a trembling whimper, wanting something for your neglected clit, you can’t reach the threshold like this, you keep rising but not enough. “I wanna come, please, let me—”

“Sshh.” His tail is circling you, like a snake twisting around its prey, and you don’t get it at first that he’s getting more of it into the grip for the fat and curling part of his stinger to be able to reach and roll over your unattended, swollen nub. 

Your mind is so sunken into the pleasure you can’t even worry about the barbed part getting near your vulnerable parts, but he’s an expert at making it knead just the way that gets you uninhibitedly screaming. “I got you, I got you.”

Your legs collapse beneath you, his tail carrying your entire weight as your climax fractures within you unexpectedly, not even taking some time to grow and spread and take time aching — it just explodes, making your body convulse in aftershock shudders, unable to contain your palpitating sobs. 

“Ah, Jesus Christ, fuck!—” The clamp of your cunt around Leon also dropkicks him into his own orgasm, shooting straight into your cervix. He rams into you a couple times before he bottoms out to the hilt, his chained hands having yours in a death-grip, staying like that until the twitching of his cock subsides and he starts going soft. 

When you come to next, the chains are completely gone, broken and shattered on the floor, even. Your clothes are straightened and he sits cross-legged on the ground, his back to a wall, and you’re on his lap, tightly hugged by him, still struggling to catch your breath. The view of his muscular arms around your waist is a delight, as always. 

“I feel disgusting,” you say. A sense of discomfort washes over you, amplified by the lingering physical sensations of sweat and fluids. Your face contorts with a mix of satisfaction and unease, the need to cleanse yourself from the stickiness that clings to your skin uncomfortable.

“I think that was amazing.”

You snort. “Not that — I mean, I want to take a bath, everything feels so sticky.”

Leon plants a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll take you.” 

He probably means somewhere you can clean yourself, but you can’t help but ask. “Take me where?” 

He pulls you in to snuggle better, resting his forehead on your shoulder, tired but playful. “Well, there’s this castle.” 

He still hasn’t told you all that much about what’s going to happen. There is no salvation from the parasite inside you anymore, it has its home in you, but you know you’re not a captive, not when you share the same chains as him. “After our visit, can I—can we return home, then?”

“I…” The sentence dies as it starts. “I don’t think that’s possible. Not for a while.”

“Because you won’t let me?”

“Because I don’t know what Saddler will want with you.”

He knew the consequences. 

Something inside you makes you change your mind — no, he chose the lesser of two evils for you knowing what was coming. 

You can’t bring yourself to blame him, this was meant to happen — you were meant for this gift, meant for this fate, to carry this creature, share it with him. You feel less doubtful and sure of this now, feel the same red of Leon’s eyes, the black of his veins, you shoulder the agony together. 

Your common sense gives a last breath as it fades into non-existence. “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, shielded and spiteful. “Yeah.”

“But you still wanted me by your side.”

“I was worried.”

“You were lonely.” He succumbs into a muzzled silence, and you try to reach out once again. “At least we’re together, right?” 

“Yeah… Together in this hell.” You don’t get to see what kind of face he’s making. His deep voice is raspy, and despite his contrition, he’s holding onto you tighter than before. Failure is a shame upon him, and he doesn’t let himself be comforted. “I’m sorry for bringing you down with me.”

“I’d burn for you, anyway. I don’t care.”

He’s brusque and uncompromising. “I wouldn’t let you burn.”

“Then I’d burn with you.” You turn in his lap to look him right in the eyes — his red meets your red. “Together in this hell, right?”

Lambs to the slaughter. 

[stellarfoxian]

can i request v x fem human reader where it takes place during the promening episode? maybe they have a little dance together or bond during the battle with doll i guess :P

-🦷

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY!

character: serial designation v (murder drones)

a/n: hey guys…!!!! it’s been a while !!!!!! sorry for disappearing for 296721 years i’ve been really busy and demotivated recently lmao- anyways, im not really big on doing requests but this is such a cute idea and it gave me a sudden hit of inspiration so !!! im gonna do it :3 ALSO idk when or how you end up joining the crew so that’s up to you tbh.

warnings: human x disassembly drone (if that needs to be a warning? idk i know some people don’t like that), probably ooc im sorryyy

: ̗̀➛ v inviting you to prom ? oh, you got LUCKY.

: ̗̀➛ well… i guess it wasn’t really her inviting you. she explained her plan of “kill everyone, pop uzi’s little head off!” to you and was like “well. i guess you can come too or whatever.”

: ̗̀➛ and…. Depending on your personality you end up going with her to either make sure she doesn’t kill people or to help her kill people. fun !

: ̗̀➛ as for your outfit, n brought it back when he got his and v’s outfit !

: ̗̀➛ so, you go with her after she beheads n, (he’s fine. You hope.) the worker drones are SUPER curious about you. like what the hell are you doing here human. uzi already wasn’t very fond of you and you’re getting kinda nervous with all these stares.

: ̗̀➛ v notices, because of course she does.

: ̗̀➛ “just ignore them. they’re jealous of how fabulous you look.”

: ̗̀➛ she says as you step up backstage with her, waving at lizzy.

: ̗̀➛ this isn’t about her, but lizzy’s pretty chill with you.

: ̗̀➛ ANYWAYS! you probably know how this goes. v steps up to do her speech, gets crucified by doll. you try to help, but get THROWN by doll and her solver powers. Ouch. (you’re fine, trust.)

: ̗̀➛ after uzi and n pop in and n and v both get torn to pieces, you rush over to help them, picking up v’s arm- which she grabs from you.

: ̗̀➛ “MINE.”

: ̗̀➛ Okay, V.

: ̗̀➛ you’re just as mad at lizzy as she is. that traitor!

: ̗̀➛ fast forwarding to when everything is over, v wants to stay with you, so she convinces n and uzi to let her stay behind.

: ̗̀➛ though the music is kinda… janky, now that the boombox has been messed with, she holds her hand out to you.

: ̗̀➛ “wanna dance?”

: ̗̀➛ you’re kinda stunned. you didn’t know v liked to dance. or that she knew how to, actually.

: ̗̀➛ “do you… know how to dance?” you ask her in confusion.

: ̗̀➛ “…well, no. but it’s not too late to learn. just say yes before i change my mind!”

: ̗̀➛ so you take her hand. it’s a little hard to dance with a disassembly drone, considering that you’re a human, but you do your best! and it goes quite well, even though you stumble a bit.

: ̗̀➛ dancing with her is a learning experience for both of you, even if you already know how to dance. you have to learn how to dance with a drone now, so it takes some getting used to. but you manage!

: ̗̀➛ she learns pretty quickly, matching your movements almost perfectly.

: ̗̀➛ but eventually, you both tire out. so you call it a day and start to head back to the landing pod, holding her hand.

: ̗̀➛ wait.

: ̗̀➛ holding her hand?

: ̗̀➛ it took v a good while to realize she was holding your hand. and when she did, she pulled it away immediately. don’t take offense to it! she’s just embarrassed. you can tell by the blush lines on her visor…

: ̗̀➛ “i don’t want your human cooties.” she’d say, crossing her arms.

: ̗̀➛ i know what you are, v.

: ̗̀➛ you get back to the landing pod before n and uzi, and she turns to you before going to do her own thing.

: ̗̀➛ “i… i had fun. thanks.”

: ̗̀➛ and just like that, she’s off.

[miumura]

( 🚋 ) NOT OUR LAST GOODBYE — KOGA YUDAI FIC

[ DAY THIRTEEN ] of the advent calendar !

( 🚋 ) SYNOPSIS . . . after a heated argument with K, little did you expect that the last time you’d see him would be at his departure, after leaving you in silence for days.

( — ) PAIRING . . . best-friend!k x gn!reader FT. EJ &TEAM

( 🚋 ) GENRE . . . angst lolz, misunderstandings, friends 2 …?

( — ) WARNINGS . . . INSPIRED BY THE MOVIE “20TH CENTURY GIRL” (sorry guys), k and reader kinda frustrating ..

( 🚋 ) NOTE . . . Hi!! Super late Sorry!! but originally this wasn’t even gonna be angst if i be honest … but train station … 20th century girl … so yes!!! also pretend the pics above give christmassy vibes LMAO it js seemed right to keep it like this and yes i can hear u quivering miles away Ms Sonata 😊

Once again, and unsurprisingly, K had missed yet another hangout. You really tried waiting and being considerate, but not even him in sight. Seated alone in the cafe with two drinks you bought with your own money, frustration grew. The plans had been made two weeks prior, and despite K's assurances, he was nowhere to be found.

Unable to bear it any longer, you navigated to your contact list and pressed on his icon, hoping for an explanation. Anxiously biting your nails, you waited through two beeps until he answered with a casual, "Hello?" Your scoff was loud enough for him to hear, a response to his nonchalant greeting after ditching another hangout without any warning.

"Again?"

"Huh?" Did he genuinely believe he had the right to question you after what just happened?

"Are you serious right now? You just missed another hangout, K." His mumbled apology reached your ears, sounding like he was cursing himself for even forgetting. "Damn it—I'm so sorry, YN. Can I make it up to you tomorrow?"

"You've got to be kidding me." You couldn’t help the anger slowly rising in you. “I’m here, waiting in the cold for you just to not show up again?” The hot air escaped your mouth as you scoffed. “You know, you shouldn’t suggest ideas for a winter hangout if you’re just going to not appear.”

"It—it just slipped my mind! I'm sorry," K explained, but you weren't buying it. You've let him slide too many times.

“It just ‘slipped out of your mind’? We planned his hangout 2 weeks prior—you even promised to show up today! Do you think I’m really going to buy that bullshit?”

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that but—”

“You say this all the time. What the hell have you been doing?”

“Listen—I just…” You could hear him trail off, as if restraining himself from saying more. What could he be hiding that's so important? “I’ve been busy.”

“And so have I? But I've always spared time to hang out with you and show up to everything you schedule. And suddenly you can't show up to something we both agreed on? K, you're slowly becoming distant with me.”

“It's not like I'm trying to!” He lowered his tone, recognizing his anger taking hold. “I just couldn’t do it today. It’s just—it’s not something I can tell you that easily.”

“I'm your best friend, what the hell do you mean?”

“I—I can't say. Not right now.”

“You really have to be an idiot if you think I'm gonna believe that. This friendship can’t work if you’re like this.” You pushed your hair back in frustration. "I get it, you're busy. But this is a pattern, K. A pattern I can't keep ignoring," you stated firmly.

"I know, YN. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you," K continued apologizing.

"I've heard enough apologies, K. You're not the only one with a busy life," you replied, frustration evident in your voice.

"Please, just give me another chance."

But the more he apologized, the more irritated you became. "I need some space, K. Figure out what's going on with you. We'll talk later."

“But YN—”

“Just leave me alone, will you?” You angrily said, clearly sick of his pleading. “You clearly have no problem doing so, it seems like, anyways.” Without another word, you hung up, leaving K with the dial tone and a realization that he screwed up real bad.

And you’ve made it your goal to make him feel how you felt every time he ditches you.

DAY ONE. K attempted to act as if everything was okay, anticipating that you'd eventually give in and talk to him as you always did. Little did he know, you were determined to make him feel the weight of his actions—even if it felt harsh.

“Hey YN,” he greeted, met with your silent response.

“You need help?” you simply shook your head.

“Wanna go together?” He tried once more, but you walked away without a word.

Undoubtedly, a sense of guilt crept in, but the memory of that night kept replaying in your mind, fueling the anger you harbored toward him. K seemed to notice the shift, creating awkward moments and growing distant—much like that regrettable day.

You didn't care; in your eyes, it was deserved.

DAY THREE. You're enduring the silence longer than you initially thought. Ignoring him, refusing to even cross paths, felt strange considering how inseparable you used to be. School had become a bit dull without him, but you were determined to hold out for a week…right?

“Are you seriously not going to talk to him?” EJ asked, straw twirling between his fingers. “You're really creeping me out.” He says, as if you aren’t supposed to be the one creeped out by him instead for drinking an Iced Americano during the first days of winter.

“What do you mean?” you blew onto your cup, closing the lid back to take a sip of your coffee.

“You never hold grudges like this—what's up with you?”

“Okay...but he messed up.”

“Did you hear him out?” EJ maintained eye contact, sipping his drink. “Not blaming you or anything, just wondering.”

“Well…no.”

“YN…”

“Well—if he wanted to, he would’ve reached out by now!” you tried defending yourself, but he was already sighing.

“You’re both too stubborn, aren’t you guys?” EJ shook his head, smiling a little. “Give him another chance—oh look, he’s right there,” he pointed, making you whip your head around, only to turn back to EJ when your eyes accidentally met.

“I have to go,” you hurriedly grabbed your bag, saying a quick goodbye. “Thanks, EJ!”

“YN, your drink—” But you were already running off, footsteps following closely behind. You wanted him to reach out, yet here you were, fleeing and feeling like a loser. But facing him seemed unbearable in your current state of embarrassment.

“YN,” a familiar voice called out, a hand on your arm, pulling you toward him. His warmth had such a contrast from the chilling weather today. You turned around, finding K with a serious expression. “Can we please talk?”

You wanted to be petty. For some reason, having K reach out first, you weren't going to make it easy for him. “I don't think there's anything we need to talk about.”

“Can you stop being like that and just talk to me?”

“Like what? Just some lame excuse about why you're missing time with me?”

“It's not useless—” K scoffed, running his free hand through his hair, locking eyes with you. “Do you really think I'm just here to tell you the same stuff I've been saying all the time?”

“So you've been lying?”

“That's not what I'm trying to say—”

“I've heard enough.” You tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held on, disappointment evident in his eyes. “YN, what is so hard about sparing a minute of your day? Why is it so hard for you to fucking listen?”

You took a deep breath. “Me? How about you, huh? Have you ever listened to me? Do you think you have the right to say that to me with all this shit you’re doing to me?”

“YN—”

“Here’s your answer then. Because I've spent so much time waiting for you to explain, and you only choose to do it now.” You give him a stern look. “I’m tired of hearing your bullshit—your constant, useless reassurances when you clearly don’t keep your word!”

“I'm tired of waiting for you.”

“YN! Please–”

You turned on your heel, determined to walk away and put an end to the conversation. As you took your first steps, a part of you hoped he would chase after you, while another part was tired of hoping for something that seemed uncertain.

K stood there, conflicted. He debated in his mind whether to let you go or chase after you once again. He longed to. He longed to reveal everything to you. Yet, was it the right moment? Were you even in the proper state of mind to even grasp onto his words? Letting out a substantial sigh, K pivoted, reluctant as he was, and proceeded to walk away from you, leaving you both to walk on two different pathways.

DAY FIVE. K hasn't been showing up to class for the past two days. You felt guilty – you didn't know why, but you had this nagging feeling that it was somehow your fault. EJ quickly picked up on your changed demeanor, his face reflecting concern. As you walked home together, he blurted out, "Did you say goodbye to him?"

You turned to him, confusion etched on your face. You had no idea what EJ was getting at, and he wasn't sure if you even understood the gravity of his words. "Say goodbye to who?"

"To K...?" he hesitated, confirming his suspicions when your expression shifted to one of shock; you were completely unaware. EJ wished he could vanish on the spot.

"EJ, that's not funny." You looked at him, not seeing his joking face he’d usually have. “You’re joking…right?”

"Well, I'm being serious. I'm not the type to joke about that."

“Why did I have to say goodbye?”

“He’s leaving today, YN. Did he not tell you?”

“Can we please talk?” You didn’t hear him out.

“YN, what is so hard about sparing a minute of your day? Why is it so hard for you to fucking listen?” He wanted to tell you something important. It was your fault.

“YN! Please–” It was your fault. All yours. No one to blame this time.

“You mean like…right now?” You looked at EJ, hoping you still had time to make things right with K. With glossy eyes, you could see his hurt expression, knowing what you had put yourself through. “Yeah. About to leave at the train station nearby.”

“I have to go.”

“YN! Be careful; you might get hurt–” You didn’t care. You didn’t care if you were going to get scrapes on your legs, you didn’t care if EJ was yelling your name—nothing could hurt more than losing a best friend that you didn’t leave off on good terms.

You ran as fast as you could, disregarding the chill in the air and the sting in your lungs. The train station came into view, and there he was—K, standing with a suitcase, staring into the distance. Your heart raced as you approached him, a mix of relief and fear coursing through your veins.

"K!" you called out, breathless.

He turned to you, surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "YN? What are you doing here?"

"I... I heard you were leaving," you panted, trying to catch your breath. "I had to see you before you go."

He sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I messed up, YN. I messed up big time, and I'm sorry."

"Let's talk about it," you urged, reaching out to touch his arm.

"I thought it was too late for a conversation," your heart shattered upon hearing those words. "But it was my fault anyway. I should've been truthful with you."

"Quit blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault—it was mine. I should've been more empathetic." Tears threatened to spill over as you maintained intense eye contact with him, your insides twisting with emotion.

“I didn’t mean to avoid you,” K began, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

“I know I messed up too,” you admitted. “I should have listened instead of shutting you out. I should’ve not said those things to you either.”

He nodded, a sad smile playing on his lips. “We both made mistakes, didn't we? But, let’s not worry too much about it—we’ll get over it like we always do. I’m leaving for a while, but I don’t want us to end like this. I care about you—damn, I even like you, YN," he said, causing you to gasp a little. "I’m sorry if this is too sudden—I just don’t know if I’d be able to tell you this any other day."

As you stood there, absorbing his unexpected confession, the reality of the situation sank in. "K, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you questioned, a mix of emotions clouding your mind.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I was scared, afraid it would ruin our friendship. But now, facing the distance, I couldn't hold it back any longer."

“K—” The train's arrival interrupted your conversation, and K looked at you with hopeful eyes. "I'll be back, YN. Let's talk when I return, okay?" he pleaded.

You nodded, and he pulled you into a hug, and for a moment, it felt like everything might be okay. “You should go,” K whispered, releasing you from the embrace.

“Take care, okay?” you said, holding back tears.

“You too, YN. I hope we can figure things out when I come back,” he said, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his eyes.

"You promise to come back?"

"You know me. Who am I to fail to keep my promises—well, besides about the hangouts," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood. You smiled, finding comfort in his smile. "Then can you promise me on this one, and try not to break it?"

"I promise," he extended his pinky finger, waiting for you to interlock with him. Once you did, the warmth of his hand—similar from last time—transferred to yours, making it such a bittersweet moment. He brought his hand closer, kissing the side of your hand. "Hope that wasn't too sudden."

He smiled at your blushing face, releasing your hand. He had noticed how little layers you were wearing—did you really run like this just to see him? Taking the scarf of his neck, he wrapped it around yours, looking at you lovingly. "I'll do something sweeter next time. See you later, yeah?" You nodded, and he finally carried his bags to the train.

As K stepped onto the train, you stood there, gazing into his tear-filled eyes. How badly he didn’t want to cry in front of you. Waving, you declared, "I like you too, K!"

His heart warmed slightly. "I can't hear you," he teased, as he would've done by your side. Smiling, you shouted, "I like you so much!"

The doors closed, and you glimpsed K crying. Witnessing his tears always tugged at your heartstrings, and your own tears flowed uncontrollably. The train started moving, and as K disappeared from view, you stood there with tears streaming down your face. The reality of his departure hit you hard. "Come back soon," you whispered to the wind, as if it could carry your message to him.

Your heart felt heavy, and you couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of loss. As you wiped away your tears, you realized how much K meant to you and how the abrupt end to your argument had turned into a farewell.

Walking away from the train station, you carried the weight of mixed emotions. The confession, the unspoken feelings, and the promise of a future conversation lingered in the air. Most importantly, the emptiness lingered, but the promise of a reunion kept you going. Determined to make things right when he returned, you whispered to yourself,

“I’ll wait for you, K.”

ADVENT CALENDAR MLIST — @en-dream @i-yeseo @yizhoutv @yuma-is-mine @wtfhyuck @sansfransisco

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Hi, are your requests open? If not, ignore this please, but I would really, really like a chishiya x reader fluff where readers love language is "nah I'll do it for you" but not like grand gestures, just random things. Kinda like the peeling an orange thing, or going downstairs to get a snack or running a bath after a hard day. But like, it goes both ways, reader doing stuff for chishiya and vice versa. Also, could it be post borderlands where they remember everything? Feel free to change anything or don't do it at all, I wouldn't mind. Also, I haven't ever actually requested with my real username, so I don't know if it would notify me if you post with this, but can you @ me? Bye and I really enjoy your writing!!!

I'll Do It!

requested?: yes pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x gn!reader genre: fluff, angst if you squint warning(s): mentions of nightmares, fluff, mentions of sleeping pills, mentions of very poor mental health, chishiya being sweet towards reader (shock horror gasp), mentions of trouble sleeping, mentions of eating disorder summary: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣���𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 word count: 1k a/n: ofc you can! my requests are practically always open and i do try my hardest to get through them, so sorry if this is late lol. also, think this is so cute and you have a great idea. just to add, can somone request something for bang chan please lmao, i wanna write for him but all my ideas are literally gone lmao. make sure to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (P.s so sorry this took a while, ive been busy recently lol) tags: @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer

you and chishiya did absolutely everything for eachother. you both remembered the borderlands, which was a downside for the both of you, but you did both get over it. when chishiya went back to work, a lot changed.

it was almost as though he was never around, and he either worked so late that you were already asleep, or he would just crash when he got home. but of course, on the rare occasions he was working from home, you would bring him snacks and keep him company while he did so.

you had am office in your house that you had both decorated with comfy sofas, so you would sit and scroll through your phone while he worked, occasionally getting up to get a snack or a drink and bringing something back for him. you would also stand behind him sometimes and ask what he was doing, resulting in you being confused with the big fancy doctor words your boyfriend used in order to explain, so you ended up just sitting back down and pretending to understand (which he knew you wouldn't, and just chuckled anyways).

of course, you worked aswell, which also resulted in chishiya doing things for you. your work was mainly based at home, but you would have to go out and about to the office and do stuff sometimes. if it was a particularly stressful day, chishiya would run you a bath for after you finished work, and if you were working in the seperate office you had in your home, he would peep his head around the door and ask if you needed anything. if chishiya knew that you hadn't eaten anything yet, and you had said no to him asking if you needed anything, he would go get you a snack nontheless.

even though you both led very busy lives with your work, you also made time to cuddle in bed on a night, which took chishiya a while to get used to, but it was definately worth it.

there also lead to a problem with sleeping. sometimes one of you would have a nightmare and unintentionally wake the other, resulting in the other holding the other in their arms while the other calmed down and went back to sleep. more times than others, chishiya wouldn't wake you up when he had a nightmare, because he was a silent sleeper. but you, however, did wake him up since you were a quiet sleeper, but a one that moved around quite a lot. so you thrashed around quite a lot, with the occasional mutter of "no" or sometimes even you screamed.

the first time this did happen, however, chishiya thought there was an intruder, so he ultimately went into panic mode aswell, jumping awake and turning the light on, before realising it was just a nightmare you were having. he managed to wake you up as softly as he could, holding you in his arms as he whispered to you that everything would just about be alright. you believed him, well, almost.

the time he woke you up, he was just flinching and twitching in his sleep, and you woke him up. chishiya being chishiya, though, pretended nothing was wrong, but didn't say no to you holding him until he wemt back to sleep.

you almost believed that everything would be alright, because when your mental health started to slowly get worse, so did the nightmares. chishiya did notice you slowly started to eat less, and also sleep less, but he thought you would manage to get yourself back up on your feet. only when you started to get a lot worse, did he start to intervene.

it started off slow, just small snacks, before it turned into small meals, then bigger meals, then you were eating properly again. but that didn't change your sleeping. even though your eating patterns were improving, your nightmares were still getting worse.

almost every night you woke up screaming and crying, but even the nights you didn't, you would still be up throughout the night. chishiya was starting to get worried, even though he didn't show it that much, he worried.

after a while, you got a cat, aswell as sleeping pills perscribed from your doctor boyfriend himself. he thought the cat would help with anxiety, and the pills with sleeping. and they did, for a while at least. as much as chishiya loved you, he couldn't keep waking up due to your screams and nightmares.

the pills worked for around a month, before you started to get worse again. the pills weren't working as much as they used to and you were waking up a lot more. you had both tried everything, from pills to pillow mist, nothing was working.

your cat, did hep with bits of anxiety when you had the occasional anxiety or panic attack. but other than that, you were practically on your own. chishiya did help, but he wasn't there all the time. he did advise you to go get therapy, but even if you did, nobody would believe you other than the man l who suggested it himself.

at this point, you were barely sleeping. you would try not to wake chishiya, but whenever you were awake, so was he. it was almost as though he just knew you would be awake.

this one particular night, you had a worse nightmare, you were thrashing around all night and chishiya was awake. it was only when the screams started that he woke you up, you were hitting his chest in protest until you realised it was him.

"sh, sh, sh" he says, bringing your sobbing frame into his arms, your face soaking his night shirt with your tears. "you're okay, i'm here, everything is okay" he whispers, stroking your hair and leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

your sobs eventually died down, and chishiya just about thought you were asleep until you whispered.

"i'm sorry" you whispered into his chest.

"what for?" he says, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making you move your head so you were looking at him.

"keeping you awake every night" you whisper back.

"honey, it's fine, as long as you're okay" he says, bringing you back into his chest.

"i love you" you mutter, and you just about hear him say it back before sleep overcame you.

[andradrawsstuff]

An in-depth character analysis of Skipper: pt 2

So, tv Skipper is a bit of a contrast to movie Skipper, as I stated in my MASSIVE ramble in part 1 💀 Even though he’s so different, he does have his quirks and some decent character development. It’s also great to see how much Tom’s voice acting evolves over the seasons and I thank him so much for putting his heart into it 🥺

This is also going to be a long one I am so sorry, I tried

This version of Skipper started off pretty similar to his movie counterpart as the show was finding its footing, but soon evolved into his own version of himself as the series went on. In early season 1, we see Skipper be somewhat down to earth and have quite an honourable attitude. He’s not super shouty-screamy and we see him being pretty domestic, which is probably because season 1 is pretty slice-of-life compared to the other two seasons.

I think the main points to mention here are in Happy King Julien Day and Assault and Batteries - in hkjd, despite all sorts of interruptions Skipper gets a little angry, but doesn’t really act upon it, he just minds his own business. Eventually he confronts Julien, but remains civil throughout the entire thing. In Assault and Batteries, he takes the batteries but does so sneakily to minimise confrontation. And when Julien chases him, he doesn’t fight. Throughout the entire episode (and a good bit of the show), he remains somewhat civil and tries to minimise confrontation with Julien. He’s also pretty sweet at the end when he offers a high five like bro that’s adorable I can’t-

We also get to see some decent character development for him in season 1, as there’s a lot of Skipper-centric episodes. In Needle Point, Skipper realises he should take the shot so that Private doesn’t get sick - he takes accountability for his actions, and his conversation with Private is pretty sweet. I love that you get to see Skipper being sweet (especially with Private) in the series, since they’ve had the time to show a bit of his vulnerable side here and there.

But I think that the most important character development point in Skipper’s story is Miss Understanding - Since the start of season 1, Skipper was pretty sexist and it gets so bad that he thinks he can’t do anything he did before because he’s a girl. He eventually saves the guys and the episode comes to a resolution.

But here’s the thing, not once is he sexist after that (Unless I’ve missed a few things here and there but I think he genuinely learns his lesson) which makes me think that his sexism is intentional on the writers part bc they do make it a point that it’s wrong, so w tpom and it’s pretty neat and rare for an early 2000s show to cover. This is why I love love love season 1 Skipper - he’s flawed but in a realistic way and he usually makes an effort to fix his mistakes. He’s also quite nonchalantly chaotic like in the movies, whereas in later seasons he’s more aggressively chaotic if you catch my drift? Idk how to explain well lmao.

As for his other traits, he’s pretty paranoid and egocentric, but still as suave, sassy and sarcastic as movie Skipper. He’s defo got a lot more of an “I’m right and you’re wrong” attitude than his counterpart and is a fair bit grumpier which is pretty funny. He’s got a bit of a hero complex here (eg. Treasure of the Golden Squirrel) and at first he’s arguably more chaotic good than neutral compared to the movies, but it’s not such a big change that it makes it bad in any way. I mean, he still kinda has it out for the humans and chooses violence without a second thought which is hilarious to me 💀

As the series progresses, Skipper starts to get increasingly paranoid and aggressive, and a lot of his negative traits start to show more. In early season 2 he’s fine but you can tell when the writers were starting to lose the plot both with the characters and stories in late season 2. It kinda feels like his character took a 180 turn and went backwards, but honestly it’s not that noticeable and I just happen to love analysing these things. I mean, it also happens to Kowalski, who around the same time starts becoming a bit of an asshole and gets worse in season 3 - in Snowmageddon, he’s rlly dismissive of Private and Fred.

I think Skipper also ends up suffering what I like to call the “Sabrina Spellman treatment” because he starts making mistakes and refusing to take accountability, usually pinning the blame on someone else without repercussions. I guess it’s the only real “problem” I have with his character in the series but honestly it’s just something that tends to happen as shows go on for a long time and it’s not all that bothersome. But the thing is, he starts getting better again in season 3 and he gets more character development (eg. Snowmageddon where him and Marlene work rlly well as a team and Antics on Ice where he’s pretty much doing everything for Private 🥺) so idk what happened there 💀

Overall, tv Skipper is still a loveable little guy and I find it so funny when he gets angry out of nowhere, my fav crazy Skipper moment being the one where he swears he’s never gonna end up in Hoboken and starts screaming his lungs out 💀 (absolutely top-notch voice acting as always ofc).

But with this, I hope that you’ve enjoyed my ridiculously long character analysis and feel free to tell me your thoughts, this is all just my opinion after all :)

If you’re somehow still reading this I congratulate you, you get a gold star ⭐️

[mshroom1e]

ೃ⁀➷ Trust Fall

type: headcanons

how the twst characters would react to the reader suddenly trying a trust fall on them

1.4k words

Characters: NRC Students

╰┈➤ Riddle

He'd be so caught off guard, he just freezes.

Prolly shreiks too.

You fall on the floor right away.

You get an "off with your head!"

He's just embarrassed and ends up feeling bad for letting you fall.

From then on, he refuses to walk behind you so you don't pull the same stunt again.

╰┈➤ Ace

He let's you fall.

But on purpose.

You fall flat on your back and he just laughs at you.

He helps you up though.

He's still laughing.

╰┈➤ Deuce

Panicks but manages to catch you somehow.

He thought you fell backwards by accident.

Stop you almost gave him a heart attack.

He asks if you're okay afterwards, and you tell him it was just a trust fall, and he's like "oh".

╰┈➤ Trey

He knows what you're up to.

Figures it's one of your usual antics and catches you with a fond chuckle.

Warns you not to try the same thing with Riddle though.

He can't help but to tell you to be careful so you don't get hurt if the person fails to catch you.

He's happy that you trust him enough to try a trust fall, though.

╰┈➤ Cater

He's actually quite quick to catch you.

Like Trey, he knows it's a trust fall.

He laughs and asks you to redo it but this time let him pull out his phone and record you do it.

Posts it under #friendshipgoals

(pls idk how to write this young man)

╰┈➤ Leona

He's like "dafuq" and sidesteps you.

Watches you fall.

It's not out of malicious intent. He just cannot be bothered to use any energy to catch you.

Looks at you on the ground, laughs to himself and walks away.

Calls you an airhead.

Congratulations, you played yourself.

╰┈➤ Ruggie

He's got swift reflexes, so he's another quick one to carry you.

Pay up, since he just saved your life.

You explain it was a trust fall but the cost still stands.

You pull out some madol from your pocket and hand it over to him while grumbling the entire time.

There goes your money for the next month that you managed to scrape together with blood, sweat, and tears. (no thanks to the silly bird man)

He smiles and does his little silly laugh when he gets the money off you, so maybe it was worth it.

╰┈➤ Jack

Goes to catch you but ends up fully lifting you off the ground instead.

He's ended up holding you up like Rafiki and Simba

Like Deuce, he thought you fell over and is hoping you're okay.

He's so nice 💔

You tell him it's a trust fall and he furrows his eyebrows.

Kinda feels embarrassed that he fully lifted you up now.

Awkwardly and silently puts you back on the ground with a straight face.

╰┈➤ Azul

He screams and jumps back

Jk

Or am I?

Jokes aside, he's got really good arm strength, so even if he's late to catch you, he still manages to hold you up.

He's so shook his glasses almost fall off and his face is going red from confusion.

Pretty quick to recover and uses it as a business opportunity.

He saved you from falling, so now give him your dorm building.

Theres no friends in the world of business

Sigma grindset haver /j

Mainly uses the businessman front as a cover.

He's still shook but trying to play it off.

Yk how he tries to appear smarter in front of teachers? Well, he's doing the exact same thing but tryna appear calm in front of you.

╰┈➤ Jade

He catches you pretty solid

You hear an ominous "fufufu..." from behind you.

Is disspointed you didn't pass out since now he can't use you as mushroom fertiliser /j

He flashes his usual butler style smile and stands you back on your feet.

Sorry but Jade always seems to be plotting something so I suggest you escape now.

He's already figured it was a trust fall, so no need to explain.

╰┈➤ Floyd

lmao

His reaction depends on his mood ig

If he's default Floyd, he fully picks you up and the next thing you know, you're trapped in a warm but gut crushing squeeze.

Picks you up simba style pt. 2 but it's intentional.

Pls tell me someone else also thinks his hugs would be comfortable.

He laughs with you coz ur so silly.

Puts you on the ground after a bit and ruffles your hair if you're shorter than him (he does that daily and you can't convince me otherwise)

You end up laughing too.

Watch out though, since he might pull the same stunt on you when you least expect it.

Start doing some arm workouts coz he's gonna be a hefty number to lift.

╰┈➤ Kalim

His carpet catches you.

You happen to be in his dorm and its nearby.

His younger siblings do stuff like trust falls all the time so he isn't surprised.

He's also happy you trust him enough to try one with him.

He smiles so brightly it hurts to look at.

After all, it hurts to look at the sun when it's shining.

╰┈➤ Jamil

Is so sick of your bs

Contemplates letting you fall, but he isn't feeling that mean today, so he guesses he can catch you.

Ends up catching you, but it's definitely not willingly.

Don't try it with him again coz next time, you're falling.

╰┈➤ Vil

bombastic side eye

criminal offensive side eye

He gives you the most judgemental, critical look that you even forget why you approached him in the first place.

Bro didn't even give you a chance to test out the fall on him.

Like that one auntie that silently judges you for existing.

He is not wrinkling his perfectly ironed clothes.

You do the walk of shame as you retreat.

Defeat.

╰┈➤ Rook

Man's already caught your before you start to fall.

He chuckles with his usual smile.

"Tres bien, Trickster!"

You tried to catch him off guard (an impossible task), but you're the one who got shocked instead.

╰┈➤ Epel

A quick, confused noise slips out as he catches you.

You almost hit the ground but he tried his best.

Tell him it's a trust fall and you left him so lost he needs the map.

Since there aren't many kids in the place he's from, he'd never heard of a trust fall until now.

He's glad you trust him, though, and has a small smile on his face for the rest of the day.

╰┈➤ Idia

He isn't even there.

You fall with nothing but thin air behind you.

sorry

╰┈➤ Ortho

He catches you right away and it's startling how strong he is.

You knew he'd be pretty strong, but you're still surprised a little.

He also thought you fell by accident but he's happy when you tell him it wad a trust fall.

Watch out though, since there's a close to 40% chance you'll fall on the floor if you tried it on somsone else.

He's just hoping you don't get hurt.

He's such a sweet little gummy worm <3

╰┈➤ Malleus

He instantly catches you with magic.

Genuinely thought you lost your balance.

Well done, now he's walking behind you for the next week to make sure you don't fall and hurt yourself.

You tell him it's a trust fall and he's so lost he needs the map 2.0

But he's intrigued

You're quite strange, Child of Man.

You explain its only done with people you trust (usually) and he's smiling for the rest of the day.

There's no storm clouds for the next week.

You've singlehandedly made his day.

╰┈➤ Lilia

Watches you with a knowing smile.

He knows what you're doing.

Still catches you anyway while chuckling.

Says something about how funny kids are these days and leaves to go do Lilia stuff. (idk I haven't read book 7 yet lmao)

╰┈➤ Silver

You're the one catching him.

He fell asleep mid conversation and now you're left to drag him over to a nearby bench so he can rest comfortably.

bro is majestic

Watching him sleep so peacefully makes you sleepy too and you end up falling asleep as well.

Your trust fall plan ended in a joint napping session.

Idk about you but that sounds like a win to me.

╰┈➤ Sebek

He catches you.

Thinks it would be a disgrace to his training if he didn't.

You tell him it's a trust fall and he gets all smug.

"Ha! You think I can be caught of guard by the ambush of a mere human??" He says but on the inside he's happy you trust him.

Won't say it out loud though so you're left with him talking your ear off about how humans are too reckless.

That's his way of telling you to be more careful next time.

He just didn't want you to get hurt either.

After all, he does care (I hope)

◁--《

[beefboyandbabygirl]

can i request pleasee? wonwoo oneshot based on taylor swift's song "the very first night" because i'm in need of smutty with extra fluffy in it ☹️😔

Very First Night

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

pairing: ex!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff, exes to lovers

warnings: this is SMUT MDNI!, oral (f receiving), regular smegular missionary, making out, exes getting back together, brief mentions of clubbing and alcohol, petnames (baby, darling)

quotes from beefboy: "it's FIERCE" (sorry thats the only one i dont feel like scrolling thru all our messages AHHA)

wordcount: 1k

a/n: first request yaaay!! i know im a little late into the game by now (my summer vacay is pretty packed lol), but in case ur confuuuuused, hiii im the bbygirl to the beefboy (aka user @joshibambi), im taking care of all the requests xx. And im gonna be v honest here and say i hadn't heard this song until this request lol, but i took this task SERIOUSLY and i love basing fics on songs (i make a playlist for all of beefboys fics, its true), so like keep em coming. i rlly hope u like it!! (this was a v long a/n lmao i promise they wont all b like this).

You watched his name on your phone screen, displayed in your contacts in a row amongst many other w-names. Wiliam, Wade, Walter- Who the fuck was Wylan? You tried to pay attention to any other name but his.

Wonwoo.

And then you thought, fuck it. It wasn’t like things had ended on bad terms. They had ended on we-are-busy-and-maybe-we-should-try-something-new terms. It was easy. An honest talk on the couch during a chilly Friday afternoon, and you had decided it was the best option. For the both of you.

And it was only after the fourth weekend out with your friends after the breakup, you realized what had happened.  

You missed him. You missed him so bad, you wished you could abandon the strong drinks and sweaty air of the bar that reminded you so much of your very first night with him. But you didn’t. You didn’t say a word as you danced under flashes of pink and red with strangers. Nobody knew.

Nobody knew how much you missed him. Not until now.

“Hello?” 

He sounded confused, maybe even a little startled when he answered your call. Maybe you should have told your friends so they could have talked you out of this afterall.

“Hey Wonwoo.”

“Hey…”

You realized you hadn’t actually planned what you were going to do from here. 

“Do you- Like, wanna come over?”

It went silent on the other end again, and the question echoed in your head, suddenly sounding pretty wrong.

“I mean- Not like that, just like if you wanna talk, you know? Catch up and stuff, I just wanna make sure you’re okay and-“

“Y/n, let me stop you right there.”

Well. That didn’t seem too good.

“I, uh- Okay, fuck, this is really embarrasing, but I’m- I’m already here.”

“…What the fuck?”

“Yeah, and I was gonna do this whole- I don’t know this whole thing, and now you’ve ruined it, actually. So thank you.”

The familiar sarcastic tone of his voice made you giggle as you got up from the couch and sauntered towards the door.

“Really? What kinda thing?”

You were teasing him now, but hell, you had already decided to call your ex on a lonely late night. Might as well go all out.

“This whole…Romantic thing, I know it’s stupid, I’m sorry, but I just-“

Before he could continue, you pushed the door open, and there he was. Not a particularly spectacular sight, to the average person. Dressed in sweats with his glasses (your favorite pair. The slutty ones), sliding down his nose a little, exposing the fact that he probably ran all the way up the stairs. 

And still he was beautiful. The most beautiful you’d ever seen him.

“…So do we talk first, or do you wanna-?”, he asked. 

“I was thinking fuck first, talk second?”

“I wanna kiss you first though.”

“Kissing is an integral part of sex.”

“I know, but I wanna kiss you now.”

“Was that your romantic thing? Burst into my apartment and kiss me?”

He shrugged.

“I figured you’d like it.”

You took a step closer to him.

“You were right.”

At some point during the kiss you both made it past your doorstep, lips pressed together tightly and limbs intertwined in all sorts of impossible ways. 

Once again you were brought back to your first night together. How you practically jumped into his car, and he pressed the gas as hard as he could, and the lights and neon signs were so pretty it felt like they were there just for you. How you stumbled through the hotel room door all smitten and giggling, the sounds of the busy city life behind the window not even coming close to drowning out the sound of your pounding hearts. It was written in the sky that night, the longing, the want, the need you felt for each other. 

You were brought back to the present when the air got punched out of your lungs, as your back hit the mattress of your bed. Wonwoo crawled on top of you, his eyes meeting yours. 

You kissed again. Your limbs intertwined again, and clothes flew all over your room as you scrambled to get back to each other after all this time. you knew then and there that your very first night together was going to be incomparable to this feeling. This feeling, in this moment. 

His lips kissed their way down your body, not leaving a single spot missed until he met your clit, his nose brushing against it ever so lightly. 

“Don’t tease, Won- Ah.”

He couldn’t dream of teasing. Not now, when you were right here, and even though he didn’t get to tell you the words he had memorized, he couldn’t really care. Not when all he could think of at this moment, with his lips wrapped around your clit and tongue prodding at your hole, was you.

“God, so fucking good, missed this fucking pussy”, he mumbled into your dripping core as you gripped his hair tighter and gave in to the inevitable urge to grind against his tongue. 

“I know you’re close baby, come on. Cum for me darling.”

With one last flick of his skilled tongue you were falling over the edge, a rush running through your body that couldn’t compete with any other feeling.

Still in a daze, his chin coated in your wetness, Wonwoo made his way back up your body until his lips were on your neck and his hard cock was grinding against you. 

“Need you Won, need you so bad, please.”

Your voice was barely a whisper, as you ran your nails down his toned back and nipped at his earlobe in a desperate attempt to get him to do something. Anything. Everything.

“I know, I know. Need you too baby, you have no idea.”

He was almost panting, and soon enough his struggling breaths became a long content sigh as your sweet pleas and whines had him pushing into you, your familiar warmth sucking him in.

His thrusts were sharp and deep and fucking perfect. You didn’t want it fast, didn’t want it hard or rough, you wanted it real, wanted it to be just him and you and nothing else.

“Do you know-“

Now he was truly out of breath, heavy sighs and grunts tumbling from his swollen lips right next to your ear as you shut your eyes in pleasure.

“-How much i missed you? Missed you so fucking much, I should have never, fuck, never let anything get in the way.”

God, how nice it felt to know he had missed you. And how nice it felt for someone to finally know how much you had missed him. 

Between a hundred more I missed you-es, you dragged each other through the fall, him after you (ever the gentleman), and between many quick kisses and a few drowsy ones you fell asleep in his arms. 

Just like the very first night.

[rocknrolldecadence]

Yesterday i was listening to tv by billie and it gave me a random idea about a fic, like izzy going on tour and you kinda wait for him to contact (call/send letters) and you keep sending him letters since it's a long tour, you just dont get anything, and he comes back to find out none of his letters got delivered to you 😮‍💨 i love angst omg

That's really random to associate with tv but the original idea is that you send him almost at the end of the tour a video tape or idk what singing this song (but like ignoring the internet and etc since is the 80's lmao) if that helps as an inspiration, you're free to use this idea too idk sorry thank you bye 😭😭😭😭

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

sinking in the sofa

izzy’s gone on tour and you try to reach out to him.

warnings: angsty

a/n: i didn’t follow the second bit of your request exactly so i hope it’s still ok 😣 (also if u ever want to req for billie please do!! i write for her as well!!)

7 days. a whole week since izzy had left for the use your illusion tour. you missed him like crazy. he told you he’d write you, but you hadn’t got any letters yet. you brushed it off as him just being busy. not to worry. you’d get a letter soon.

7 days soon became 10. 10 days and izzy hasn’t even called you. he was starting to worry you - had something happened? you picked up and dialled the number of the hotel he told you he’d be staying at that night. izzy has been kind enough to lay that all out for you: which hotel he’d be at, which venue he’d be playing, etc.

“hello,” you spoke into the receiver, “can you out me through izzy stradlin’s room please?”

whoever was on the other end of the line coughed a little. “i’m afraid i can’t do that. sorry.”

“well… what about jeff isabell?” you questioned. maybe he had checked in under his real name?

“i can’t do that. it’s policy. sorry for any inconvenience caused.” the receptionist droned.

“but-” you started, before being hung up on.

that conversation quickly became a regular routine as every night you called each hotel and were met with more or less the same answer. sometimes they’d say “let me check with my manager!”, and you’d get hopeful, but it never worked out.

you’d been writing izzy letters, but now you started to doubt if he was even seeing them. or getting them. you wrote him at least 3 times a week normally, but as the weeks went on with no word from him, that number diminished until it was one maybe every 2 weeks.

of course, you still wanted to write him. he was your boyfriend - why wouldn’t you? but he wasn’t writing to you at all. not making any contact. you watched mtv religiously, looking out for clips of concerts. you did the same with magazines too, scouring the racks in every store for a feature on guns n roses.

weeks became months and you got fed up. every day you waited for at least one letter or call, and every day you got none. you waited every day, until you turned on the tv and saw what had happened in st louis the night before. a riot. at one of guns n roses’ shows. you were furious. not at the fact that that had happened, but that izzy hadn’t given you a call. he couldn’t even call you when a RIOT happened!

that was the last straw for you. you just started sobbing as the tv kept playing, detailing everything that had happened that night. why couldn’t izzy call you? write you? get in contact at all? had you done something? had he done something?

that was how you spent your evening - crying on the sofa with the news on. you cried til you couldn’t anymore. but as your tears dried, your guitar caught your eye. it had been sitting in the corner, untouched, since izzy had played you a song on it the night before he left. jumping off the sofa, you had an idea. you could write a song. get everything off your chest. so you did.

a few hours later, and ‘tv’ was done. every chord was perfect, and every lyric was straight from your heart. over the next month, you played it every day and you had it memorised.

late at night you were playing the song again when the door of your apartment opened. you didn’t hear it; you were too in the zone to realise it was izzy coming in with his spare key. the use your illusion tour had landed in LA, so izzy decided to come home to visit you.

“baby! i’ve missed you!” he exclaimed, coming into the living room. you snapped your head around and looked at izzy, spooked by his unannounced entrance.

“what the fuck?“ was all you could say.

“what? baby- the tour’s in LA. i wanted to come see you since i haven’t been able-”

“don’t fucking play with me, izzy. you don’t reply to my letters, don’t pick up my calls, and then you just fucking waltz into my apartment saying how much you’ve missed me? are you insane?”

your boyfriend stared at you dumbfounded. “what do you mean?”

“what do i mean? you know rightly what i mean!” you laughed out of shock and anger.

“i’ve been writing you letters. nearly every day. i thought you weren’t writing back ‘cause i was constantly moving from city to city.”

you felt like crying. was he serious? he had been writing you? this whole time? “oh my god. i never got any. did you not get mine?”

izzy shook his head.

“i’ve been phoning you too. every day. every hotel you stayed at. they never put me through to you.” you added as tears started to well in your eyes.

izzy joined you on the sofa and pulled you into a tight hug. it felt refreshing and warm, and you cried into his neck.

you stayed like that for a while. it was sad, but it felt natural. you two talked for hours, explaining everything you’d said in your letters to eachother. finally, he was home. for a while, at least.

[yullalightk]

WOTFI IS HERE!!!!!!! WHOOO!!!!!!

I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE! But! I watched it after the livestream countdown, and, BOI! Do I have a lot to say!! and I'll make a part 2 of the WOTFI review cause, I don't think I'll be able to fit everything in one post. And with a lot of school projects on the line. So, I'll work on pt 2! and post it tomorrow!

!Also, spoiler warning!

So... we good? Okay! strap in!!

First off the thumbnail looks AMAZING!!!!! It really got me excited as soon as I woke up at 1 in the morning lmao😂

As soon as I watched it I was actually surprised they decided not to go with the horror route like in the trailer.. But personally, I'm not gonna complain I mean that should've been expected imo.

Also, the poster is soo fricking cool!!!! Like, I can't get enough of this art style and THE WAY IT WAS ANIMATED WAS LIKE A MOVIE INTRO!!!! IT WAS BEAUTIFUL!!!!!✨

The intro/Puzzles' backstory

So, I'm glad that Mr Puzzles gave us a more clearer explanation to his backstory. Even though it was something a lot of us knew already. None the less it was nice! I'm curious about the mother though, like, what was she like to Puzzles? Was she someone who didn't believe in her son's dreams as well? Or maybe someone who encouraged him to keep trying? Idk honestly, but maybe we'll get that answer in next year's WOTFI!

I also don't think he just sat in his room all day to adulthood, maybe he left his home to chase his dream but failed on multiple occasions. (Kinda like in the series where he tries to kill the crew but fails all the time) or, he watched TV all day as a coping mechanism. Trying to escape the cruelty of the world he lived in.

Also, wdhm when he said "The rest is history" like, we need more. Like how you got godlike powers? maybe that'll be explored more in WOTFI 2025!

Side note: Leggy's face when she dropped little Puzzles was funny for some reason help! IT HAD NO REASON TO BE THIS FUNNY!!😂😂

HE SWORE!!!!! YESS!!!!!!!! I swear he needs to let his anger out more, You gotta give kudos to him for enduring Mario's chaos😂

The casts!

I really LOVED the character designs! I can see how they are freaks now!

My all time favorites are SMG3, Bob, and Karen! They're designs stick out the most in the cast and I do like how they are all under Puzzles' control, like the PV movie!

Wish Saiko had more screen time though, I'm just a little disappointed at that. They could've done something interesting for her. Heck, they even gave the rest of the main cast more screen time than her.

But, maybe we'll see that in the next WOTFI? Hold up- wait a sec, I'm seeing a pattern of sorts... are, the stuff that felt lackluster in the 2024 WOTFI coming back as something better in WOTFI 2025?? That could be a possibility. I might make a theory on that, but hopefully when I'm not busy.

Side note: I swear this episode made me ship Mario and Puzzles so much!!😂😂 I mean- It's just hilarious to me!

Like when he said "Dear Mario" I know he hates him but like the way he says it made it feel like he likes him, or just toying with him!! Marware fans are eatin' good today! And he also complimated Mario on his performances on the fire perfomance!!! I know... he was doing what a judge does, try say something nice to the performers. But! That won't stop me from shipping them! And don't forget! Mario also still wanted to stay despite the hell Mr Puzzles put them through, in the rap Mario still wanted to have some fun in the amusment park! But, also glad he attacks him when Puzzles harms Mario's friend. And can be scared of him sometimes.

Now listen, I know he was trying to get Mario back so he won't ruin his show again but to me it also looks like he wants Mario to pay attention to him! kinda like a yandere😂😂 I'm just letting Marware infect my brain at this point haha.. it's becoming a curse.

Anyway that's part 1 for now. Part 2 will hopefully come out tomorrow as well, and I also have some projects to do so I know I said I will post every Saturday but that may be a little difficult, I'll get part 2 out tomorrow and I really hope that'll be the end of my review of this year's WOTFI!

Thanks for reading! hope ya'll enjoyed my WOTFI 2024 review pt 1.

[leggerefiore]

Aside from Girmsley, which of the Dads would "spoil" their children to avoid getting in trouble with the Reader?

Forgot to pick up that important thing (and maybe even their kid); they'll stop for ice cream on way back. That sort of thing.

Nanu might try with Ohi'a, but Ohi'a isn't really the type to tell his other parent, unlike Nero. He is pretty apathetic and understanding... Like his dad. They are quite similar, naturally. ("Here, kid, don't tell them I was late... Yeah, I was taking a nap.")

Volo definitely has to do it with Astrea. Poor little girl is constantly being gifted things to make sure you do not find out about his mess up. He is trying his best at this whole father thing, but he is not the type to be one. Astrea at least enjoys all the little trinkets and treats she gets. ("Here is three sweets. Do not tell them about how I failed to show up on time. Your father was busy researching something.")

Colress also attempts it... He gets so lost in his research that he forgets that he was supposed to pick Prisma up from school. He promises her that he will help her with whatever she wants in her schoolwork or let her use any piece of his lab equipment for her own research if she doesn't tell you. She sighs and relents. He is at least genuinely apologetic. ("... Prisma. I do apologise... You must understand how important my research is— Ah, wait! No, it's not more important than you! Don't cry!")

It is rare, but Emmet has his moments. Emma is easily lulled into complacency with a promise to buy her whatever sweet she wants, but Inka is not so easily swayed. She probably will tell you just because she's frustrated with Emmet. He feels so betrayed. ("Aaaa! Papa is verrrry sorry! He simply had too much work and got distracted! I'll buy you whatever sweet you want! Don't cry!")

... New addition, but Lear. He is always so busy with this and that. Running an island and possibly running a kingdom gives him barely little free time – Which is why he may forget obligations to his children. And make him panic. Both his son and daughter are promised and given far too many expensive things as an apology and attempt not to tell you. ("... Tch. I'm truly sorry. My work ended up running over. I did intend to watch your show... Hey, hey! Don't get upset...! Ah... I'll buy you something! What do you want? Tell your father at once and I'll buy it!")

Larry also has to. He promises his children a meal at whatever restaurant they want in exchange for not telling you. Both agree. His love of food was inherited, and both kinda get their dad is under endless pressure at work. ("Sorry. My boss ended up holding me for some overtime... I really didn't intend to be so late. Ah? You're not mad... I see... Well, let's go to dinner. It isn't nice to keep anyone waiting.")

Cyrus and Ingo never have to do this. They are far too attentive as parents lmao.