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#aj's ask box
saturnville · 23 days
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YASSSS GIRLLLLL THEY NEED A PART TWOOO, im dyinggg to knoww what happens between them after that night no pressure though babyy :((
working on it 🥰
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myossdeux · 7 months
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Another funny name choice by the AJ Trilogy french localization team : Bobby Fulbright's one
He's named Justin Brillant
Justin can be read as "Juste un" (just a ... / only one), the part "Just" explicitly refers to "Justice" (In justice we trust! Or may I say, In Justin we trust!). "Brillant" means "shiny, intelligent.. brilliant" and fits with the bright design and the cheerful personality he has. Despite him being always a bit silly and over reacting every time you talk to him while investigating, he's indeed brilliant at his job and helps Blackquill a lot as a detective. About the nickname Blackquill gives him, "Fool Bright": in french it's now "Brouillant". "Brouiller" is a verb that means "to confuse, to blur", and yeah he really does sometimes. It's a very nice pick because in french we have a common phrase that says "brouiller les pistes" (the expression in english is "to cover one's tracks") and if you played AA5, you know where this is going haha
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according2thelore · 2 months
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Ohmygod this was my askkkk!! I am so so happy with thiss, rolling around it like a kitten I am sooo fed!!! Tysm!! The twist with it being their intention all along for ES!winchesters to find out…..I am dead, absolutely dead. You are so good, soo creative. ES!Sam you are in for a ride, and ES!Dean, you better get over with your hangups soon and accept what it is.
My imagination is running wild now and because of this being intentional, I am imagining LS!Winchesters now fully staging this setup, lure ES!Sam in it because he would be easier to convince and LS!Sam knows that Dean *deserves* to be with a version of himself, pre cage, pre demon blood, all pure and innocent and fiery and angry and confident - something he is only rarely these days. This Sam will take what he wants. So LS!Sam arranges this thing for LS!Dean and ES!Sam, tells his Dean to enjoy! And my oh my does he. ES!Sam is his to claim first now???? This precious thing, eager to please but also has this arrogance in him that makes him so so so much Sam. Meanwhile ES!Dean is off to run some errand (by LS!Sam's design) but he returns early and sees his baby bro with that older version of himself and LOSES IT. HOW DARE DEAN NOT ONKY DEFILE HIS OWN LITTLE BROTHER BUT ALSO ES!DEAN'S!!!!! HE IS FURIOUS AND YEARNING AND HATES IT THAT HE WASNT THE ONE AND STARTS STRAIGHT UP MURDER BUT LS!SAM MAYBE CALMS HIM???? OHMYGOD
(also??? thank you so much for correcting the misread ask???? I would have taken with greedy grabby hands if you had completely misread it also!! I am OBSESSED with this verse! You are the nicestestestest)
HIHIHIHI!!!!!
GAH! this ask was so cute and nice i was kickin' my lil feet!
this idea is so great! your mind!
this falls into a similar category as one of my most recent posts, and i wrote it accordingly. do i think that LS!Dean would deprive ES!Dean of being LS!Sam's "first" dean? no, i don't think so. that bastard is so possessive i think he can respect the insane-brotherwife grind.
so this is just a delightful hypothetical based on your prompt!
without further ado, enjoy!
"plan b?" dean asks, and sammy lifts his head from his arms. his temples throb with a headache.
dean is sitting across from him at the dining table, nursing a glass of something sam can smell from here. sam snags the glass and takes a sip that curdles his nose hairs before passing it back.
"were we really this stupid? like this dumb?" sammy groans, rubbing a hand through his hair. "i mean, i believe you would be this obtuse, but me? i was just studying for the LSAT like a year ago!"
"oh here comes the big fancy college boy with his big triangle words. you're still gagging for me so hard you're getting an aneurysm." dean rolls his eyes. sammy rolls his eyes right back.
it hadn't worked. they had set those little fuckers up, and expected at least a conversation to happen. but sammy just walked in on their younger selves in the kitchen the other day and they didn't even break apart abashedly! no awkward explanations at all! there wasn't even anything to explain--they were standing on opposite sides of the room!
"did we make it worse?" sammy asks. dean considers this.
"nah. we can fuck it up at least three times as bad if we put our heads together."
so they put their heads together.
~~~
"you want me to what?" sam asks, and there's that blush. sammy tilts his head away so the kid can't see him smile. it's going to make this so much harder if he thinks he's being laughed at.
"pour some sugar on me," dean says, waggling his eyebrows.
sam's face sours.
yup. made it harder.
"not really," sammy is quick to correct. "just...make it look like something's happening."
sam's eyes narrow.
"why?"
and isn't that the crux of the whole damn thing. sammy's done some weird things in his life. he's been to the past. he's been to the future. he's been to hell, been to alternate dimensions, and killed just about every type of monster one can think of.
and yet, having to explain why he and dean want to "parent trap" their own younger selves to said younger self might rank high on that list of weird.
"guy's in love with you." dean says, before sammy can say anything. sammy clenches his jaw. way to just jump into this thing.
sam blanches. "no. he's not. you're--he's my brother. you don't know what you're talking about."
"i don't know dean?" dean asks, eyebrow raised. sam sputters.
"well, you know you. but my dean is different. he's not--" heat creeps onto sam's cheeks, as if remembering the compromising position he caught them in the other day. "you."
dean mhmms flatly.
"then what's the harm? he walks in on this, is not jealous, and it doesn't do anything." sammy posits.
"easy for you to say! you have--" sam gestures at dean, but doesn't look at him. "if my dean caught me like that, if he knew--he'd...he'd never talk to me again. he'd...he'd be disgusted."
sammy and dean share a look. after having been tested so often, so deeply, and reaffirming their...bond--as chick-flick and meaningless as it sounds--the distance they had gained from this depth of anxiety removed the sting from it.
sammy will always remember working himself literally ill over it. but when he feels like that, he has the comfort of walking up to dean and biting down on the place where his neck and shoulder meet. he has the comfort of dean putting sticky notes that read "kick me" on the back, and then holding his face like he's the only thing that's ever mattered.
their younger selves deserve this. sammy has no idea if this is going to change the past. he doesn't know if these two will leave here tomorrow or in a week or in a year and be completely wiped-clean, or if they'll keep it all. but they deserve that comfort, that confirmation, that reassurance, as long as they can have it.
and honestly, fuck it. sammy wants a younger dean to be with his younger self. he sees their insecurities and their weird dance around each other and kciks himself for ever being so blind.
not having dean as soon as it was possible to have him will always be one of his biggest regrets.
so, sammy says,
"okay, listen. if it doesn't work, we have a mirror in 219 that erases the viewer's memories from the last 24 hours. all of 'em. so if we try this, and it doesn't work, we can slip it under dean's pillow, and he won't even remember. a zero sum game. no harm, no foul, right?"
sammy can feel dean's eyes on the side of his face, but he maintains intense eye-contact with his younger self.
no, they don't. they absolutely do not have that.
but for the first time, he can see something like hope in the kid's eyes, and--again, fuck it. in for a penny.
"he won't remember?" sam repeats, slowly.
"not a thing." sammy says, wondering if this counts as lying or self-delusion. sam is quiet for a long moment. he looks between him and dean for a few times, suspicion melting.
"yeah. okay." he says finally, looking at dean with a strange hunger in his eyes that brings sammy up short. oh shit. should he-- "i'm in."
~~~
getting dean out of the bunker is embarrassingly easy.
"you know what i would kill for right now?" sammy asks, suddenly, while they're all sitting around a table in the library. sam jolts, even though he had been expecting it. "pringles. do we have any pringles left?"
"oh, man." sam says, his eyes widen. "me, too."
even though they planned this out ten minutes ago, sammy's dean perks up like he's going to say something decidedly not-on-script. sammy shoots him a warning look. he sighs.
"whoops. i think i ate them all." dean looks at the table, like he's a football player forced to be in the school play for extra credit.
"oh." younger dean says. he sits up straight. he looks back and forth between the sams. "i mean. yeah. if we need a grocery run, i could go get some."
his nonchalant tone is belied by the fact his almost trips over his own feet to get up.
"i'll be back!" he calls, already in the doorway.
"god, i'm so fucking transparent." older dean mutters directly into his own palms as he hides his face in his hands. sam pats him on the back comfortingly.
forty-five minutes later, it's all in motion.
sammy knocks against the door twice as he hears dean's footsteps shuffle down the hallway, and rushes away, rounding the corner so dean won't be able to see him.
sam and older dean are set up in the garage. dean had pulled up one of the cars right next to the door so younger dean could see everything.
they had laid out clear ground rules: no actual kissing, no touching "bathing suit territory" (dean had proposed that addendum solemnly, and sam's face had screwed up, like he was considering if he actually felt anything but annoyance for his brother.)
they had decided on signals: two knocks when dean was coming, one knock if things were going to plan, three knocks for "i'll go get the mirror" for sam, and "oh shit we gotta have a plan c" for dean.
sammy had made sure the door was perfectly cracked to give dean some assurance of anonymity, and they had figured that was the best strategy, since dean was known apparently to peep when he suspected his older self and sammy were getting close.
sammy hadn't expected being able to hear sam and older dean's voices from down the hallway, but he can. he can also hear younger dean's footsteps falter as he gets closer to the door.
"no, you're doing it--" an aggravated sigh. "c'mere." a shuffling of limbs. "you see how the drive belt comes this way? we need to loop it around the--"
a pause.
"what're you lookin' at?" dean's voice has lowered an octave, and sammy shifts, a pavlov reaction to hearing dean like that.
"i'm just--" sam peters into silence. a gasp. younger dean's gasp. did he think it was sammy in the garage this whole time? sammy stifles a smile against his hand.
"you lookin' at me, sammy baby?"
"baby?" sam repeats indignantly, but is cut off by a gasp as something in the room clatters to the ground.
"yeah, that's right. you're my baby brother, aren't you? my baby brother. you like seein' me like this? bigger than you? i know my sammy likes it when i throw him around a little. show him who takes care of him."
sam is breathless, and sammy can hear it, when he says, "dean."
sammy wonders how they're set up. does dean have him pressed to the front of the car? hiked onto a table, like he and sammy were set up that first time?
he realizes that it's killing him not to know.
a coo, from dean. "oh. look at you, sweetheart. you're so hard, and i haven't even touched you yet. you think i could make you come just by talkin' to you? hm? you like big brother tellin' you how much he loves takin' care of you that much?"
sammy realizes that he's started to chub up in his jeans. and he also realizes that younger dean hasn't said anything yet. sammy's torn between wanting to look around the corner and see if he's still there and staying put.
what if sam was right, and younger dean's just not ready for this yet? sammy's dean had reassured him in no uncertain terms that he had been lusting after sam since a truly concerning age.
but what if the jealousy is too much? what if seeing them like that carves an impossible chasm?
"dean, i--i" sam sounds much more unsure, like he's losing control fast. sammy bites down hard on his tongue.
he makes a split-second decision.
he rounds the corner.
and dean's got a fucking gun.
sammy starts in a dead sprint just as dean kicks open the door to the garage.
"you sick fuck!" he yells. sammy's behind him in a second, pulling his arms back. dean's starts kicking immediately, even as sammy is able to pull him mostly off the ground.
"he's a kid!" dean's still yelling. "we promised, fucker! we promised!"
sammy looks around dean's flailing body, and sees sam's horrified face. he looks like he's about to be sick. older dean's leaned him up against the side of the car, and he's not even touching him, just standing a few inches away. sammy's dean has visibly paled.
"hey, that's not--" he starts, but dean's already going off again,
"get your goddamn hands off of him!" sammy starts hauling him away, and manages to kick the garage door closed--but not before dean shouts a parting shot, "you think he wants those disgusting fucking hands on him?!"
sammy manages to wrestle dean a couple steps down the hallway before dean starts to go limp.
"i'm calm," dean says, and his gun hand does actually go limp, so sammy starts to let him go.
"what the hell happened back there?" sammy asks, heartbeat in his throat. play dumb! play dumb!
dean tucks his gun back into his pants. he's looking at the wall over sammy's shoulder.
"he shouldnta' been sayin' that." dean mutters. "not his place to. sam is...never mind."
not his place to.
"his place?" sammy prompts. despite the fact that he's pretty sure he had a heart attack back there, he tries really, really hard not to smile. he's taking this very seriously.
dean's phrase is dangerously close to the point of all this, and sam should not celebrate because he's positive older dean and sam are powering through some angst (that sammy will have to deal with later) in the next room right now.
sammy feels like one of those tv show therapists with big glasses, armchair, and ballpoint pen. and how did that make you feel?
"i don't--" dean's eyes fall to his. "i don't know why i said that." his brows furrow. "i gotta go. i need some fresh air."
and without another word, dean turns around and walks away.
operation: go convince your brother to kiss you, but also not you is a-go.
before he walks away, sammy remembers the knock code: once for success, two for dean's arrival, three for failure. and honestly?
sammy knocks on the door once. and he trails after dean, barely resisting the urge to whistle.
oh yeah. they got this in the bag.
~~~~
@aj-carryon au contraire! you are the nicest! i hope you enjoyed this little ficlet, aj! (i hope that's your name, if not, then i hope you enjoyed, friend!)
your asks always make me giggle and twirl my hair, lol! kissing u on both cheeks!
-lizzy
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redhoodie1723 · 1 year
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omg can we please get Emily Mermay!!!! and maybe either jj or hotch with her pls 👉🏻👈🏻
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Em and JJ with a bonus Penelope! They are gossiping abt the guys rn
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red-signal · 1 year
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people nearby are talking about things i have or once had hyperfixations on help 😭
they playing animal jam that thing was like my entire life for 6 years !! and theyre talking about brokeback mountain and THEY QUOTE BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN IN NATM
i am trying not to bother them about it but when i heard them saying like "i hope it isnt blocked on the school wifi" i did yell to them "I tried to get them to unblock it from the school wifi last year but it didn't work" so uh. oops. eavesdropping 👍
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majorproblems77 · 7 months
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For the commentary ask game this fic from your whumptober Is the latest living rent free in my head
Another bolt of lightning cracked open the sky. Flashing through his eyes as memories surfaced. The shadow of pain exploded through his right arm as he held it. He could feel Fi pulsing calming thoughts on his back. The gentle strumming of the goddess harp flowed through his ears as she tried to soothe him.
He had to stand up. Please. Sky. Stand. Up. Maybe you should breathe. Deep breaths Sky.
He couldn’t, he couldn’t as much as he tried. He couldn’t.
The rain battered him more and more, soaking his clothes, and weighing him down like a boulder was forced on his chest. Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rolled across the air as the storm continued in intensity. The sky blackened more as lightning continued to flash in his eyes. The scars on his right arm flared as he could feel the burning.
“My hate… never perishes. It is born anew in a cycle with no end.”
No…
No no no no. He was dead. Demise was dead. He couldn’t be speaking. His breathing quickened as his body began to shake. Please. Please.
A sound in the distance. Four feet, running.
“Sky?”
A voice broke through the rain. The sound of Hooves as something galloped across it. There was something else as well, but he couldn’t quite make it out.
“Sky? Where are you?!”
Who could that be? It didn’t sound like Twilight, and he was one of only a few of them who could ride.
“Sky! Sky can you hear me!?”
Time. Time had come looking for him.
“Sky?! Oh, Hylia above! Sky!”
He couldn’t look up, he was so cold. Fear had crept into the deepest depths of his soul. The lightning, the flashes, the pain. Demise would come for him. He felt himself shiver, his hair sticking to his face as the storm continued its never-ending assault on his mind and body.
He heard a transformation, a second form appearing in the rain. Lantern light illuminating the area around them. “Sweet Ordonia…” The rancher's voice was quiet, not usual for him.
Oh man, living rent free huh? Are you thinking how i could continue it? Cause I am.
Stormy Skies, Panicked heart
This is easily one of my faves!!!!!!!! Thanks for your interest, oh I'm excited to get into this one!
Okay, Okay. So I love this piece in general, and it's probably one of my fave if not my fave Whumptober story that I did this year. Like oh man I love it.
This particular passage, I'm gonna explain in the two half's. The bit with Sky on his own. And the bit where he begins to hear Time and Twilight looking for him.
This is a long one again! And is a little all over the place cause its more rambly than my normal answer posts. Because I am chaos. So we go for the feed saver again :)
Alright, We begin!!!
So Sky's section.
We should all know by now how much I love bullying the boy. The sweet Blorbo beloved. And this is another example, yes Sky is a god killer, Yes he's arguably the most powerful of the chain, only possibly matched by Time if someone had to try. But the man is still going to have some form of insecurities. Much the same with Legend. Storms are always a good one to work with generally because you can do a lot with the descriptors to change the feeling. I love working with weather in general, but I don't do it very often cause it's easy to lose your footing. (Or at least I know I can get carried away when using them.)
My thought process went to, how can I make this show how afraid. Something that shows just how afraid he is of what Demise did to him. Just cause demise died and he didn't, the Link that went into that fight was not the same one that left it. The scars on his arms and across his body are clear examples of that.
I am in the camp of Sky's Triforce Symbol being on his right hand, and that also being his main hand in combat. Unlike the others. who all have it on their left. So the scaring on his arm caused by the energy and pure power and hate that he would have had to fight during his fight has left magical scaring on his arm that flares in thunderstorms.
What's going on in Sky's head?
Well, thats in the passage. It makes the writing a little confusing to follow, I've been told in the past, but it shows precisely how muddled this storm has made him. Flipping from what is the narrator to his mind and back again, I hope makes you think more and more.
In the last section, I tried to make the sentences a short as I could. As his panic and fear reach what I would dictate as the peak during this story. He is afraid, he is lost and he needs help.
Now we get Time and Twilight
Fun fact, when I originally drafted this, I had Time and Wild/Warriors looking for Sky. It seemed like a weird combo but it was mainly cause they could all ride horses. I switched to Twilight relatively late in the draft as I felt it just worked better. Wolfie is fast, and Time with Epona would know the field better than anyone else. Wolfie is also a wolf. And you know. Is a good boy and can find things with scent.
It was also changed cause I wanted more interaction with these three. They need more.
This second section is more broken up than the first part, as to distinguish the thoughts to the narrators. Sky's thoughts are also a little more put together. As the voice breaks through the rain which essentially makes a curtain. Then the lamp light to make that break a little clearer.
Now, Sky recognises it's Time. Thats on its own between two patches of dialogue, both of which are from Time. The next form of movement is a shiver. where he was shaking before. It brings him back to his reality. He's cold. Stuck in the storm. As he's on the ground. Weighed down by fear.
Now Sky is still not out of the woods. He is still gripped by panic and fear, but something in him feels a little safer. And so lets them do what they must.
Generally, I've tried to leave this Fic a little open-ended, so I could continue it. (Mainly cause after the shenanigans that were whumptober I need to write me some fluff.) And this fic is the perfect one to do so!
I think thats everything? Any questions please ask!
Oh, this was fun!
Thanks for the ask! I love talking about my works!
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If you can only read 1 non-fiction and 1 fiction book for the rest of your life, what would it be? Why do you pick these books?
Do you have book or author recs to read?
Thank you :)
@curiousnonny
OOOHHH this is HARD. As usual, but I'll give it a shot.
So, for the non fiction book: probabbly one of my Bonsai books. Bonsai is a secret love of mine that I do not share on this blog (go to @growingstoriesandgardens if you want the very occasonal mention from me about that stuff, as well as some orignal writing). But there are some really amazing informatonal, non-fiction books around bonsai that go into tree biology, bonsai desigin and even ceramics. That would give me a lot of different things in one book, plus I love all of it. So yea, non fiction I would pick a bonsai book!
For the FICTION book...I feel like that would be so tricky. But off the top of my head? A childrens book called Poppy and Rye. It was one of the book I grew up on as a child but only appresiated till I was MUCH older and still have a soft stop for it. It has a lot of the themes, tropes and generally the kind of story I like. I think I could settle for reading that again and again, despite it being a childrens book.
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queerbuckleys · 11 months
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Here's a pig in your inbox🩵
A PIG!! HI BBY
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reidsaurora · 2 years
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why are u awake 🤨
SHHHH DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT
my sleep schedule is fucked when i come home on the weekends, i'm gonna regret it when my 9:30 philosophy class roles around on Monday 🥴
BUT WAIT A MINUTE
why are YOU awake, mx. aj 🤨🧐 shouldn't YOU be asleep as well?
ok ok fine i'll go to bed, i know it's needed 😭
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thedeadthree · 1 year
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back again... 🎵🎵 + vharion?
OF COURSE DEAR WELCOME BACK 🥀☺️✨ ! EEEK THATS MY SWEETIE BOY <3 thank you so much again dear!
OCS AND SHIPS + SONG ASKS
🥀 — VHARION ARCTERYS of ZEBES
ZEAL & ARDOR — zeal & ardor
one with the fallen // don’t call what you can’t kill, now // son of the crawling // but the salt is already spilt, child
SPACE MONKEY — placebo
don’t let me down // like you let me down before
and for u a bonus track 🥀
SONNE — rammstein
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Bark bark bark!!
(Affectionately 🤭)
Awwww you adorable little puppy 🥰🥰💜💜
Unlimited head scratches for you!!! You're too fucking adorable and I needed that 😘
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saturnville · 21 days
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The second part girrllllll, i need them both to grovel in the third pleassee chef's kiss girl (also i need them to fully do it next time when they make up again :P) one more thing SLAYY GIRLL
thank you babyyy. ngl writing the third part is kicking my behind cause I’m tryna fit everythinggggg in it
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tomster1274 · 10 months
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I SAW UR LIL MOD PROMO
IT'S SOCUTEAAAAAA
Ty ty :D!!!!
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angstics · 1 year
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Highlights from the AJ Pen webcast on the My Chemical Romance Foundations Tour set and lighting design book:
“[Gerard Way] was the most- he was the one that I was interfacing with most to come up with this design. Although the rest of the band did have their own say in one way or another. And he in his other life is a comic book author who wrote the Umbrella Academy. So I did a deep dive into comic books to sort of, understand his world a bit more. And I thought I'd throw a little nod to the comic book world with this sort of cartoonish call-out box [in the design book].”
“This picture from a Nine Inch Nails show is something that Gerard sent me. And he was, when he was asking me to make the color palette look washed out and not necessarily all bold colors, he wanted it to sort of have a sense of being weathered.”
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“We took an approach where each song had its own kind of color and it wasn't just one color across all of the lights. We'd take groups of lights, randomize the selection set over the whole rig, and then sort of stretch that make the colors in a neighborhood.”
“That drape is actually black. That's lit with just four or five Mac ultras to give it this lovely red color.”
“Thank you to Gerard Way for working so directly with me on the creative for this project. And then the rest of the band, Ray, Mikey, and Frank, they all had their own say and their own take on this project. And it was a very collaborative effort with me and the band.”
“One cool thing about this band is they play, they're analog. They just play. The drummer listens to a metronome that's just coming off his iPad. So there's no time code. There's no reference. All I know is that more or less they're going to be playing at the same tempos. Although sometimes he would shut off mid song because he would push and pull the tempo bottom style.”
“I will say that for this band the drummer that plays with them didn't chart on most of the records... And he likes to try to really recreate what each drummer that tracked the records was doing.”
"We didn't have any video content to play. Other than there were a few things that our video director, Robbie came up with to mix in with the IMAG. So we did carry IMAG screens and he did mix in a little bit of content, but for the most part, it was basically IMAG and a set on stage.”
“The reason that this set worked without like, a bunch of video screens on stage really well for this band was they never played the same set list twice. And I don't mean that they just had a set list that they had a couple of songs they'd swap out. I had to plead with them to keep the first song to be the same so that we could drop the Kabuki in the same place every day.”
“So once that first song was out of the way, they literally crumpled up the set list from the night before, threw it out... And that's why this sort of set design approach worked. The band would tell their own story because they know their music. I never had a set list feel like it was dragging or wasn't telling the story in some way of what's within their music. They know how to rearrange things and we just programmed each song so that it would stand on its own and work no matter where it ended up in the set list.”
Watch the webcast here! Take a look at the book here!
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explorevenus · 1 year
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something permanent, pt. 3 ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors ! u know the drill! dni or i will call ur mom
find part 1 here ♡
find part 2 here ♡
find part 4 here ♡
reminder: this is a dark fic, if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, kidnapping, manipulation, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, forced breeding, noncon, stockholm syndrome
word count - 6.9k (nice)
description -  despite every alarm bell going off within her, darling attempts an escape. leon does not take kindly to it, and darling grapples with conflicting emotions. oh, and, those six weeks are up.
description/tags -  yandere!leon kennedy, dark!leon kennedy, fem/afab!reader, pet names (doll, princess, sweetheart, etc.), forced daddy kink, forced breeding, gaslighting if u squint, degradation, isolation, stockholm syndrome, noncon (kind of dubcon tho if we’re being honest), reader gets restrained, leon is honestly rly mean in this one for a min but he gets better i promise, reader is traumatized, fingering, oral (f receiving), praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
a/n - first of all. THANK U FOR 700 FOLLOWERS. WHAT. THAT’S INSANE. i’m so glad everyone is liking this series and wants to see it continue-- the engagement has been so inspiring and i don’t think i’ve made this much quick progress with my writing in like. months. so thank u ;w; ♡ that being said, as always, my ask box is always open for discussion on this series, i love hearing everyone’s ideas/thoughts/interpretations ♡
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
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fic below the cut !! thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡
- venus ♡
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As soon as you heard the front door shut behind him, you switched back to the news channel just to see the faces of your loved ones, if anything else. They took turns speaking of how much they missed you, how worried they were, what they wouldn't give just to know you're unharmed. You could hardly imagine what they must be thinking. They probably thought you were already dead. Perhaps you may as well have been.
The newscaster droned on about different ways to reach out with any information on your whereabouts and how to support your loved ones as they work to locate you. You wondered if Leon already knew about your friends and family telling your story to the media. With their contact information out there now, you found yourself worrying more about their safety than yours.
Eventually that portion of the broadcast came to an end and transitioned to coverage about a local event you couldn't care less about. You turned the TV off, laying flat on your back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling in silence. What were you supposed to do?
Sadly, the answer wasn't simple-- if you tried and failed to escape, you would be putting yourself in danger by landing yourself back out of Leon's good graces. If you tried and succeeded, you would potentially be putting the heat on your loved ones, whose homes would inevitably be the first place he'd look after your own. You weren't sure he'd be as forgiving with them as he would be with you. After all, he loathed the idea of hurting you... physically. He didn't seem to care much about the mental aspect.
Your heart was pounding against your ribcage with anxiety. The room was beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in around you and in that moment, your panic made your decision for you.
You had to at least try.
Chest heaving with panicked breaths, you sprang up from your place on the bed and began tearing through the room in search of something to get the door open with. Your hands were trembling as you ripped your way through every drawer, every shelf in the closet, even beneath the bed. Finding the bedroom void of anything useful, you made your way to the bathroom and administered the same treatment.
Throwing open the cabinet, you nearly cried with joy as your eyes landed on a pair of tweezers. They were a bit high up in the cabinet, so you crawled up on the countertop so you could reach them. You snatched them up, nearly dropping them with how badly your hands were shaking, before rushing back into the bedroom and to the door.
Dropping to your knees, you slotted the flat end of the tweezers into one of the screws on the doorknob. Your weak arms twisted, and after some resistance, the screw began to turn.
"Yes!" You laughed to yourself, dropping the tweezers to the floor in excitement. Quickly, you picked them back up and continued removing the screws from the doorknob.
Once the final one was gone, dropping to the floor beside you, you tugged with all the strength in your body.
Nothing.
Your chest tightened. Trying not to panic even further than you already were, you took a deep breath and gave it another pull and still, nothing. Then you realized the lock itself was the culprit. If you were going to get out this way, you'd have to take the entire door off. If you were going to do that, you'd need something to stand on so you could reach all of the hinges.
Pushing one of the bedside tables over to the door, you climbed atop the wood and put the tweezers to work again.
One hinge off.
Two.
Now you were on your knees, tongue poked out in concentration as you twisted off the final three screws. You felt electric, never having been closer to making it out. The final screw dropped to the floor in front of you and you held your breath as you supported the door with one hand, gently pulling it out of the doorway. It was heavy, your arms shook as you moved it out of the way and propped it up against the wall.
You took a minute to bask in the sight of the hallway before you. The house was dark and vacant. You had nothing but time and solace to figure out the other half of your escape.
You weren't sure where Leon was keeping your shoes-- he insisted you didn't need them anymore since you weren't supposed to be going anywhere-- so you padded your feet with two thick pairs of socks, slipped a plain black hoodie on over your sweater and bolted down the hallway. You nearly slipped descending the stairs, catching yourself by the wall in the nick of time, heading straight for the sliding glass door. 
Shockingly, you didn't even have to take that one out of its mechanism, let alone break it-- the lock lever was right there in front of you. You almost didn't take the opportunity, worried that it was suspiciously too easy, but at the same time it would be a shame to pass something like that up. Shakily, you flipped the lever, heartbeat slamming in your ears at the clean sound of the click, and as you slid the door open in front of you, you were so relieved you nearly vomited.
Warily, you stepped one foot out into the backyard, and then another. The sun felt incredible. There was a slight breeze going that carried some of the heat off of your skin. You hadn't realized how much you missed the smell of car exhaust and fragrant spring trees until this exact moment.
Now, if you could just find your way to a main road, you could properly discern where in the city you were and therefore, how far you were from your apartment.
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Little did you know you were correct in assuming your escape, despite the effort, was far too easy to be real. Through his work for the government-- which you knew nothing about-- Leon knew a thing or two about surveillance. How else would he be able to keep tabs on the search for his "missing" darling and make sure those pesky little posters with your face on them stayed in the trash where they belonged?
He was halfway through typing up a report in his office when his phone pinged with a notification.
Motion alert: Movement detected at back door
Leon stiffened, opening the notification to be met with the image of his nightmares-- live camera footage of his darling, dressed in all black, attempting to climb the tall wooden fence in the backyard.
He was quick to abandon the task at hand-- mission reports were not nearly as important to him as you were-- and he wasted no time grabbing his keys and storming out of his office. Leon made a quick comment to one of his coworkers that there was an emergency requiring his attention and he needed to leave before rushing toward the parking garage with large strides. 
Now it was his heart hammering away in his ears. He couldn't stand the thought of making it home too late to stop you. He couldn't stand the thought of you hurting yourself climbing the fence. More than anything, he couldn't grasp why you would do this. You had been so sweet to him lately and he was sure you were finally coming out of your shell and accepting the fact that the two of you were made for each other, that you were made for him and him only. 
But you hadn't. You were lying to him each and every day. It was this realization that halted his sadness in its tracks and filled him with a level of white-hot anger he hadn't experienced in a long, long time.
Leon broke every speed limit imaginable on his way back to the house. It was a negligent price to pay to ensure you stayed where you were meant to. His hardened eyes switched constantly between the security camera footage and the road in front of him, any regard for the safety of himself or others gone with the wind. He watched as you came back outside with a dining room chair to place in front of the fence. All he could see was red.
He came tearing down the street, barely giving the car enough time to come to a complete stop as he threw it in park, yanked the keys out of the ignition and exited in nearly one motion.
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Your heart sank into your stomach at the sound of a car door slamming shut. You froze in your tracks.
It's just the neighbors. It's just the neighbors. It's just the neighbors, you tried reassuring yourself, planting the dining room chair in the squishy grass right up against the fence.
But then you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door swinging open so hard it banged into the wall.
Oh god. Oh fuck.
Hurriedly, you climbed atop the dining room chair, knees wobbling, trying so hard to convince yourself you were just imagining the heavy, nearing footsteps behind you. Body numb with adrenaline, you gripped the top of the fence and hoisted yourself up, planting one foot against the rough wood to help push yourself up and over when a strong hand closed around your other ankle with a vice grip, yanking you down from where you stood.
You screamed as you fell to the cold, hard ground, hoping someone would hear you, but Leon was quick to scoop you up against his chest and clamp his hand over your mouth.
"Where do you think you're going, doll?" He asked, not one bit of sympathy in his tone. He was squeezing your body so tightly in his arms that it genuinely hurt. You almost worried he would crush your bones.
You were thrashing in his hold, kicking your legs out wildly in a futile attempt to throw him off his balance, but you knew it was useless. You wanted to answer him, to tell him some stupid lie about how you just wanted some fresh air, but there was no point now, not that you even could given his hand was over your mouth. He was already angry with you, the angriest he'd ever been in fact, and to that point you had no idea what you were in for.
Leon dragged you back into the house, not even reacting to the way you struggled in his arms, and as he stepped through the doorway you couldn't help but wish you'd savored the time spent outdoors a little more, because there was no way he was ever going to give you that chance again.
He released his hold on your mouth to reach for something you couldn't see-- you were less concerned about whatever it was than you were about saving your own ass.
"I-I'm sorry, daddy, I'm so sorry--"
He scoffed. "No, you're not," Leon replied coldly, tone laced not just with anger but with hurt. "Y'know, sweetheart, I thought we had something really special. Did you not promise to behave yourself for me this morning? You were acting so strange, I knew you were up to something, and still, I found it within myself to trust your word that you would do right by me. Yet, here we are."
You wailed, gasping for breath, "I-I know, daddy, I'm sorry, I swear, I'm so sorry-"
He simply covered up your mouth again as he began to ascend the stairs, freezing in his tracks as he looked down the hallway to see his bedroom door off its hinges. Leon's muscles stiffened, cranking even tighter around you-- you could hardly breathe.
"Just look at what a mess you made, you ungrateful brat," He spoke through his teeth, shaking with fury. "Did it ever cross your empty little brain that I keep you here for your own good? That I might be protecting you from all the awful, evil people of this world who just want to hurt you? God, if you're going to keep acting like an animal, I should really start keeping you on a leash."
There was little time to dwell on the plentiful irony within that statement. He continued to charge down the hallway, tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed as soon as he set foot into the wrecked bedroom. You tried to scramble away from him and back toward the door, but he wasn't having it-- now acutely aware of your inclination to escape, he simply snatched up your wrists in one hand and pinned you back down to the bed.
He pulled something from his back pocket, and you weren't sure what it was at first until you felt cool metal against your wrists and heard an unmistakable click. You froze in horror, looking up just in time to watch him finish fastening your handcuffs and locking you to the bedframe.
"D-Daddy please, please don't do this, I-I'm sorry--"
Enraged, he punched the wall right above your head to silence you and you could have sworn you heard it crack.
"No, you're not, but you will be," He nearly growled, taking a step back so he could gesture to the state of the room. "If I had known you were going to destroy our home and rip a door off just to do the one thing I asked you not to do, I would have tied you to this bed a long fucking time ago. Do you even hear me when I speak to you?"
You were crying so hard you couldn't see, knees drawn up to your chest as the cold metal cuffs bit into your skin.
"Answer me!" Leon demanded.
"Y-Yes, I hear you, I-I'm so--"
"Sorry?" He finished your sentence in a mocking tone. "Bullshit. This requires far more than an apology and you know it, don't you princess? That's why you're so scared. Brave enough to break the rules but too afraid to face the consequences... It's pathetic, really."
Your lip quivered as you tried and failed to control your breathing. You couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said earlier, about making you sorry. You couldn't possibly imagine what he meant by that.
The more you thought about it, the more you became frustrated-- in a dizzyingly short amount of time that frustration began clouding over your distress. You weren't sure how much longer you could put up with this before he'd break you. Pleading with him didn't work, begging for his forgiveness didn't work, and hell, playing by his rules didn't always work either. Suddenly you were no longer crying because you were scared, you were crying because you were pissed.
"You wanna talk about what's pathetic, Leon?" You shouted through your tears, glaring straight up at him, speaking his name with the highest volume of venom you could muster. "You're just a fucking loser who couldn't land a girlfriend like a normal person, and you're taking it out on me. If you have to shackle me to your bed just to get me to stay with you, it's not too hard to see why no one else ever wanted you."
You could see his jaw clench. Leon leaned down to your level, faces so close together you could feel the heat of his heavy breaths as he gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to remain at attention.
"I know what you watched on the news this morning," He said, voice so low with anger it might have chilled you to the bone if you weren't so completely fuming. "This is why I keep you here, sweetheart, because those horrible people just say whatever they can to get into your head and turn you against me when all I've ever done is protect you. They must be so miserable."
Now it was your jaw clenching. You almost laughed.
"It took a lot less than that newscast to turn me against you," You scoffed, trying to ignore how sore your arms were already becoming from being tied up above your head. "You took me away from everything I've ever known, stripped me of my identity and my freedom just so you could live out your delusional fantasy. You're sick in the head, Leon, and I don't want to play your game anymore. You don't need me and you sure as hell don't need a family, you need to be in prison. You need professional fucking help."
He... grinned?
He grinned.
His eyes hardened over in a way you'd never seen before and although you resisted showing it, it made you so nervous you could have puked right then and there.
"That's where you're wrong, baby," He bit back condescendingly. "I don't need you telling me what I need when you're the one who's been led so far astray. It's not me that needs saving, it's you, and I have every intention of filling up that pretty little head of yours with what's right, what's real. One of these days, you'll be thanking me."
Your rage consumed you completely-- in a split second decision, you spat in his face, speaking through gritted teeth, "Fuck you."
Ever so slowly, he raised a hand to his face to wipe off the saliva, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. He collected your spit on his fingers, staring you down in silence for a moment as if he were expecting you to backtrack and apologize, but you didn't. 
"You don't mean that," He spoke as he pried your mouth open with the hand that held your jaw and shoved his spit-soaked fingers inside. "Poor, dumb little baby. You don't even know what you're saying anymore, and I'm the delusional one?"
You tried to bite his fingers but his hold on your jaw was strong.
"No biting," Leon demanded. "Try it again and I'll pry every last tooth out of your bratty mouth."
Well... you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but you decided you'd rather not test him. All you could bring yourself to do was reminisce about how nice the sunshine felt on your cheeks, how pleasant the breeze felt in your hair, the rough wooden fence on your soft palms as he held his fingers in your mouth until you'd adequately sucked them clean, swallowing hesitantly. Only then did he withdraw from you, hands shaking in manic fury as he pulled up the calendar on his phone and shoved it in your face, showing you an event he had entered that was coming up in three days.
It was simply marked, six weeks.
You couldn't help it-- you shuddered, trying as you might to will yourself to just keep thinking about the sun and the breeze and that fence, all so painfully close but so far away.
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You couldn't sleep.
You laid wide awake, arms still bound to the bedframe by the metal cuffs that were biting into your wrists, staring at what you could only assume was the ceiling as the lights were off and Leon was asleep beside you. He'd only let you out of your restraints to use the bathroom, after which he'd force you right back into place, locked up tight every time.
It was the night before the big day, the six week mark. Leon hadn't returned to work since you'd attempted your escape and you could only imagine what excuse he'd pulled to get out of it. He did mention he held a good amount of power in his workplace, so you were certain none of his subordinates felt any reason to question his word anyway.
He'd removed anything even remotely capable of being used to hurt yourself or facilitating your escape from the room. No TV, no tweezers, no razors, no belts, no medicine in the cabinets. He'd put safety covers on all of the outlets and replaced the digital alarm clock with an analog one-- no radio, either. If your family was still out there pleading for answers, you would have no way of knowing.
Exactly as he'd planned.
The worst part-- which you never thought you'd catch yourself thinking-- was that he was practically ignoring you. He'd hardly said a word to you or looked in your direction since you'd tried to escape. He would pipe up every now and then in select situations, seemingly only to scold you. You'd tried to get back at him with another hunger strike, which he didn't take kindly to. You'd yelled and kicked at him and begged him to uncuff you, to which he would just grumble that you were being ridiculous and needed to calm down or he'd never let you out until you could prove to him you deserved it. Other than that, silence. Complete and total deafening silence.
Shamefully, you craved his attention. You didn't realize just how nice it felt until he'd withheld it from you entirely.
You nudged his sleeping form with your knee, speaking out in a sweet, sad voice, "Daddy?"
Leon shuffled a bit beside you, putting a hand on your knee to stop your prodding. "What?" He asked, voice gravelly with sleep.
"I can't sleep," You whispered.
Despite how wrong you knew it was, you hoped he would feel sorry for you. You hoped he would let you out of your restraints so he could properly pull you into his arms and rub your back until you'd finally slip away into a dream. Part of you hoped he might at least stay awake and talk to you for a while.
But he didn't.
"Count sheep," He dismissed you, rolling over to go back to sleep.
The analog clock ticked.
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Now it was Leon shaking you awake.
You groaned, trying (and failing) to bury your head into the pillow while restrained on your back.
"Get up," He said sternly.
"Leon, please, I just fell asleep not that long ago--"
"That's too bad," He yanked at your restraints to shock you into consciousness. "I know what you need to do to regain my trust."
That statement alone was enough to get you to pry your tired eyes open and look at him. Morning light had flooded into the room. He was already dressed and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at you expectantly.
"And what would that be?" You asked.
Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key, unlocking your cuffs. Your arms were dead and fell heavily to the bed on either side of you as you let out a breath of relief-- your limbs throbbed and tingled as the feeling returned. Still, he wasted no time taking ahold of you, pushing a pen into your dominant hand and a notebook into your other.
"You're going to write to your family, and you're going to tell them to quit looking for you."
Your mouth went dry. "W-What? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," He answered you. "If you want to convince me that you're really trying to get better and behave for me, that's what you need to do."
Sleep deprivation and discomfort left your brain foggy-- you tried to think through what you were going to do, but as much as you wanted to tell him to fuck off, you weren't sure you could stand another length of time being cuffed, and you really weren't sure you could handle him continuing his vow of silence with you. You swallowed thickly.
"O-Okay," The agreement fell from your lips before you could stop it. "That's it?"
He crossed his arms. "It's a start. I need to know you're committed to this, to me."
"And what do I get in return?" You asked.
Leon scoffed. "A sliver of my trust back. Don't get greedy on me, now, princess."
You stared down at the book of blank pages in your lap. You wondered if it was worth it, if they'd believe whatever bullshit you'd churn out on that paper, if they would really give up. If Leon would really start to trust you again.
Finally, you clicked the pen and began writing with your dead, heavy hand.
Hey, it's me. Ever since I left my job, my apartment, everything, I've felt so free. Lonely, sometimes, but free. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be. Maybe some day we'll see each other again, but I need to do what's best for me now. Even if it hurts.
Never think that I don't think about you all the time. Only always do I miss you. This is just a better place for me, where I am now. So don't worry about me. After some time has passed I may write again just to let you know I'm okay. Freedom has never tasted so sweet. Even if it kills me sometimes.
Leave every worry you have about me behind. Every last one. Of course I still love you and I understand how you all must be feeling, but even so, I need you to stop looking for me. Now, please, leave me in peace.
You looked over every last shaky word with pride. You hoped Leon wouldn't read into it too closely as you handed it off to him. It wasn't particularly a cleverly coded message, in fact it was rather rudimentary, but all you could do was hope they would read between the lines and Leon wouldn't.
The first letter of every sentence spelled out your true message: HELPME NOTSAFE LEON
You hoped it would be enough to point them in the right direction, if they even noticed it at all.
"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Leon asked, folding up the page neatly and tucking it away in his pocket as he quickly reached for the notebook and pen-- he couldn't risk you turning around and hurting yourself with either one of those items. "I'll send this off to them soon, but today is just about us. You know what today is, don't you princess?"
Panicked tingles washed over you. You nodded stiffly. "S-Six weeks," You mumbled.
"That's right," He smiled softly, cupping your cheek. "Such a smart girl. Our kids are going ivy league, I can already feel it."
You flashed him an incredibly weak smile, but said nothing.
"That being said, I think you know what else you need to do to gain my trust back, don't you?" He asked, resting a hand on your thigh, looking down at you with a smug look on his face, like he'd won.
Of course you knew what he wanted, you were just hoping you weren't correct in your assumption.
You shook your head. "What?"
He chuckled pitifully, like he just couldn't begin to imagine how empty your head must be, how easily molded with such a lack of intelligence. It made your skin crawl. Finally, he answered with exactly the words you were terrified of hearing.
"Relax and let me put a baby in you," He said softly. "You know that."
"Right," You nodded, casting your gaze down to your hands, feeling your heart begin to pound-- there was no getting out of this. After what you'd just been through over the past three days, you couldn't bear the idea of making him angrier. The fight left you for now and you shrank into yourself.
His hand traveled a bit further up your thigh, fingertips squishing softly into the meat of your flesh. "You are going to give me a baby, right, doll?" Leon asked, face unreadable, but you weren't stupid, you knew this was a test. He hadn't exactly made a habit of asking you for your opinion on anything.
With a quiet, measured breath, you willed yourself to return his gaze, looking straight into his cobalt eyes as you forced a much more convincing smile than the last one.
"Yeah, of course," You spoke through your teeth. "...Daddy."
Leon visibly softened at that. At the end of the day, it pained him to punish you and he couldn't possibly stay mad at that face. He still felt you had a lot to atone for, but that didn't matter to him in that moment. All he could think about was feeling your cunt wrapped around him again after such a dreary six weeks, pumping you full of his cum until neither of you could take it anymore, until it leaked out of you, until there was no possible way you weren't knocked up.
The blonde shifted on the bed, kissing up the length of your leg until he rested his chin on your hip. "Good answer, princess," He mused. "We're gonna be so happy. I promise. You're gonna be the prettiest mama in the world."
You looked up at the ceiling, body going numb with fear. There was no way you could handle bearing and birthing and raising your captor's child, being tied to him for a minimum of 18 more years, having to explain to a child why mommy isn't allowed outside of the house.
As you pondered your future, Leon was busying himself with your body-- he was already growing hard just feeling your warm, soft skin beneath his hands, breathing in your scent, dragging his lips along your navel just to savor you. He'd so terribly missed experiencing your body this way. As hard as it was for him to hold off, he wanted to make this moment as special for you as it was for him.
With your contraception gone and your wounds healed, this would be his first real try at getting you pregnant, the first real chance his seed might take. Leon could hardly contain his excitement.
His fingertips tickled over your electric skin as he reached for your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs. Parting you by your thighs, he looked at your pussy with stars in his eyes, as if he'd never seen something so beautiful. All you could do was lay there and wait for him to get on with it.
You thought of the sun on your skin. Leon drew a finger up the length of your cunt, settling between your legs so he could bury his face in you, nose bumping your clit softly as he began to lap at your folds. You thought of the breeze in your hair. He gripped your thighs on either side of his head, pressing one down to the bed to pry you further open as his tongue flicked at your jewel, coaxing desire unto you. You thought of the soft grass beneath your socks. He groaned into you with satisfaction, sending vibrations through your lower half. You thought of the sound of birds. Two fingers prodded at your entrance.
Suddenly you stiffened, tears rimming your eyes-- all you could think of was the incident, vivid memories of the throbbing pain and the blood and the look on his face flooding back to you, filling your mind and body with a sour feeling.
You tensed, squirming in his hold.
"D-Daddy," You stuttered. "I-I don't want fingers this time... please."
It took him a second to will himself to pull away from you, looking up at you through his lashes with spit and slick glistening over his reddened lips. "Are you sure, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you."
You nodded. "It's just... I'm scared."
"Scared of what, baby?" He asked, resting his cheek on your thigh as he continued to idly circle your clit with his thumb.
Your lip quivered, tears leaking from your eyes and dripping down the sides of your face. You looked back up to the ceiling, afraid to show him how rattled you were. "I can't stop thinking about it."
When a few seconds passed and he hadn't moved or answered you, you dared a peek down at him-- at first he looked a bit confused, like he was trying to search his brain for whatever "it" was, and then it dawned on him and his eyes rounded with guilt.
"Oh, sweetheart... no, no, that'll never happen again," He rambled out, voice dripping with concern. "I promise. It's over now, you're all healed up. You're better now, princess."
"I-I know," You said, trying desperately to conceal your tears, bringing a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. "I'm just scared. I can't stop thinking about it."
Leon frowned. Your attempts not to alert him that you were crying were in vain, he definitely noticed, and it shattered his heart. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit in place of his thumb. "You just need me to remind you how good it feels, huh? Don't be scared, okay? I've got you. I'm right here."
His words hardly quelled the ice cold fear that ripped through your body like a shockwave. You weren't sure how exactly that was the solution he'd landed on, but you'd given up on trying to understand his way of thinking by now. Whether you meant to or not, your body remained stiff as he resumed his ministrations, tongue dancing over your jewel, fingers pushing deeper and deeper into you, slowly, as if that would make you feel better.
You kept your hand over your mouth to silence your cries, desperately trying to keep a handle on your breathing while every fight or flight response in your body was pounding the alarm. Your eyes screwed shut as he began to drag in and out, pads of his fingers brushing over your sweet spot. You were paralyzed with fear, viscerally uncomfortable, and ashamed that you were enjoying this.
Sucking particularly hard at your puffy clit, Leon delighted in your reaction as you whimpered, completely unbothered by your tears. As far as Leon was concerned, you were in need of a good fuck to set you back on the right path and he had every intention of giving that to you, and more. He was more interested in fucking all that brattiness out of you than anything else.
Your face burned hot with shame and tears as you felt a quick peak rising deep in your stomach, wishing he wasn't so fucking good at this. Everything in you screamed to push him away, but something louder begged you to stay put and relax.
Oddly enough, that "something" had a voice that sounded a lot like Leon.
Unable to hold back anymore, you began to sob as your release gushed over Leon's face and fingers, wishing you would just die while he dragged out your orgasm, praising you quietly.
"That's it, good girl. Good fuckin' girl," He grunted into your pussy, lapping up every last drop of you. "Feels good, doesn't it, baby?"
You couldn't breathe well enough to answer him. Before you could stop yourself, you found your free hand grasping down at him, reaching desperately for his hand. He granted you that with enthusiasm, squeezing your palm lovingly.
"Oh, sweetheart... you're alright. Just breathe for me, pretty girl, I'm right here," Leon cooed, withdrawing his fingers from inside you but again, continuing to toy with your clit just to keep you stimulated and pliant. "You did so good for me. I'm so proud of you."
You clutched his hand like you would die if he let go, all the while he peppered your stomach with kisses as he rose to meet your gaze, pulling your hand away from your mouth so he could plant his lips there. Sighing into his kiss, you tangled your arms around him and cried into his mouth, too absorbed by him to notice he was unbuckling his belt with his free hand.
Leon pulled away from you just long enough to undress, gifting you another kiss before rutting his hard cock against your folds impatiently.
"Fuck, you feel so good... You have no idea how badly I missed fucking you."
"I-I missed you too," You cried, but you weren't referring to the six-weeks-no-sex thing. Just hours ago he was three days deep into ignoring you completely, and now he was giving you everything you'd wished for.
The tension in your muscles released and you went dumb, letting your head fall back as you submitted to the feeling of him, the head of his cock brushing over your clit, the pearly precum that leaked from him slicking your already wet cunt even further.
With a shudder he sank into you, watching your face in awe as your jaw dropped at the dull sting of his cock stretching you out. You whined softly, clenching around him, drawing a lustful sound from him that you weren't sure you'd ever heard before, but it certainly did something to you. His hips bumped into yours as he impatiently thrusted into you down to the hilt, dropping his head down to suck and nip at your throat.
"So fucking tight," Leon grunted right into your ear. You clutched at his strong shoulders, your body temperature rising at the praise and the second knock at your hips as his hips pushed forward again. "God, you were made for me, princess."
He stayed still for a moment just to bask in the sensation of your gummy walls clenching impatiently around him, begging to draw his cock further inside than he could possibly go. It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself anymore, planting one hand beside your head and the other firmly on your hip as he began railing into you.
You were babbling out broken cries, nails digging into his shoulder blades hard enough to draw blood, but you had a feeling he wouldn't mind. The bedframe was bumping into the wall with increased volume, sending bits of drywall from the hole he'd punched earlier flittering down into your hair.
Leon's thick cock was passing over all of the most sensitive parts of you, stirring up the need inside you so quickly that you almost felt dizzy. You were holding on to him for dear life, slinging a leg over his hip to draw him in as closely to you as possible. His skin was rosy and warm, littered with beauty marks and the occasional scar here and there. You wondered if he'd tell you where they came from some day.
Some day. You shook off the thought, trying to stay in the moment. It was just easier that way.
"H-Harder," You pleaded, taking your lip between your teeth.
His face lit up, curling his fingers into your skin with a bruising force as he picked up the pace and pounded into you, reaching deeper than either of you thought was possible-- the swollen head of his cock was bumping into your already sensitive cervix, pulsing a pain through you that made you squirm and see stars. Oddly, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.
"So good," You shivered, letting your shaking hands slide up to tug at his hair. "I-I'm close again, Leon, I'm close--"
With a hum he slowed down again, watching with amusement as you griped at the loss of the sensation. "That's not what you're supposed to call me, is it, sweet girl?" He taunted you. "Already fucked stupid, aren't you? Not a single fucking thought behind those eyes."
"Daddy, please," You relented. "Wanna cum. Wan' it so bad, please..."
He made a show of pondering for a second, ultimately deciding your apology would do, just this once. Tonight was meant to be special and he was sick of punishing you by now. Hiking your leg up over his shoulder, Leon thrusted into you twice as hard as before, if that was even possible, making you cry out with bliss.
You were already close, but Leon really wanted to make sure he got you there. Sneaking a hand between the two of you, rubbing achingly slow circles into your clit. Your eyesight blurred as you yanked at his hair, twitching around you as not one but two orgasms crashed over you almost painfully, one after the other soaking his cock and the sheets with your release.
Desperately in need of a break, you writhed in his arms and tried to push him off of you, but he wasn't budging.
"Nuh-uh, none of that," Leon chided, gripping your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head. "Take it, baby, just take it. Gonna put a fuckin' baby in you, make you mine."
Your tears returned with a quickness as your limbs twitched with overstimulation, wondering just how much more he had in him. Funny enough, now you were begging him to slow down again. He wouldn't, though. He was far too close to his own release but terrifyingly good at not showing it.
Just when you thought you were genuinely going to pass out, his pace stuttered and he pulled you further into him by your hip, hands still pinned above your head as he stuffed himself as deeply inside of you as he could physically manage, and you felt the unmistakable warmth within you as his seed flooded your cunt.
Leon continued to fuck his cum into you with a few more lazy thrusts, catching his breath as he leaned over you with a smile. He let go of your wrists and cupped your chin.
"That's it, sweetheart. Y'feel that?"
You nodded, dizzy, arms latching around him once more.
"Good. I'm gonna make sure you're pregnant in no time, I promise," He chuckled breathlessly, brushing his lips over your forehead. "Just gotta make sure it takes."
Leon pulled slowly out of you, watching as a pool of pearly white cum seeped out of your hole and puddled on the sheets. He was quick to swipe it up with his finger, pushing it deeply back into you. After all, he couldn't stand the thought of a single drop going to waste.
part 4 ♡
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schemmentis · 27 days
Text
La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 14
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13
Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour
@janeyseymour's evil is keeping y'all guessing. Mine is making y'all wait for parts to be posted. Sorry not sorry. Love you ;)
Summary: Tensions and the disagreement between you and Melissa rise...
WC: 2k
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You do your best to hide the absolute rage that you’re feeling from your girls, sat together at your regular table in the corner, but you're pissed. The longer you sit in the restaurant trying to watch after the twins as your wife is in the back, it brews- not just over the fact that she would make this decision essentially over your own head, but that she would draw your girls into the life- even just this little amount that they have no idea about. It was rule number one from the start: business never comes home. Not after Mickey. Yet here home was, sitting right in the middle of business.
“Yes, sweetheart, that's a zebra you're coloring…purple. Great job, á storin.” You murmur as you glance at a haphazardly colored page.
Rosie beams up at you, and Cat is immediately tugging at your arm to show off what she’s been working on- a lion that she’s colored different shades of pink. Out of the two of them, your eldest twin definitely has better fine motor skills. 
You look back up at the motion of someone sitting across the table from you. You expect it to be Melissa, taking her dinner break. Your eyebrow raises when you see someone else.
“Luca.” You greet as neutrally as you can manage. “What are you doin’ up here?”
“Ah, y’know, pickin’ up take out for Ma.” He answers with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“Your ma gets take out from here?” You ask, incredulously. “Aren't her and Mel sworn off from eating the other's cooking?”
“What she don't know won't kill her,” Luca chuckles softly. He runs a hand through his hair before scratching the back of his neck. “Just don't go tellin’ her, huh? It's my turn to make dinner ‘fore she's home, and I'm runnin’ late.”
“You couldn't bribe AJ to do it for you tonight, huh?” You tease with a small smile. You may be pissed at your wife, and not thrilled at everything else going on. But Luca was still your family.
“Not tonight.” Luca agrees.
“Y’know,” your wife’s voice sounds as she comes to stand at the side of the table, a bag of Styrofoam containers set close to Luca. “You're lucky I don't tell Kristen Marie about this arrangement myself, Luca. What a hell of a brag I could get.”
Luca smiles, getting to his feet as he takes the take out bag in hand. “Yea, ya could but ya love your nephew more than braggin’ on your sister, Aunt Mel.” He says before kissing both her cheeks with a muttered thank you. 
“I’ll see youse at Sunday dinner.” He adds when he pulls away. A hand reaches out to lightly tickle each of your twins to get a laugh. “Be good, tikes.” He says before making his way out of the restaurant.
Melissa drops into the seat Luca left, sighing. “It's a busy night. I think we got more in here than usual.”
Your smile fades as Luca leaves, your gaze falling to your wife. Your anger slowly returns as you remember where you are and why.
“Maybe.” You murmur noncommittally as you look back to Cat and Rosie and their drawings, despite them not calling for your attention. It's rare that you wouldn't want to be looking at your wife when you can. Tonight, though, you know it's just going to simmer your anger. Especially with her acting as if nothing is wrong.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?” You answer her call for you without looking, helping Rosie's little fingers pull a crayon from the box.
“C’mon, ya can't even look at me?”
You finally turn your gaze back to Melissa, raising an eyebrow. 
“Look, I'm sorry, amore—”
“Don't.” You quickly cut her off. “Not here and not when I know you're saying that just ‘cause you hate me bein’ mad at you-not ‘cause you really mean it. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Yeah, later.” Melissa grumbles as she gets up, stalking back to the kitchen.
Melissa doesn't take her dinner break. You roll your eyes when Val brings out three plates with an apology. You assure her it isn't her fault.
It's when she brings the girls dessert that Val apologizes again, stopping you when you try to tell her not to. “Mel said she's gotta stay late tonight.”
You take a deep breath. Finally, you nod and mutter a thank you to Val. “Tell her to come say goodbye to the girls then.” You add, any pretense of hiding how you feel lost with how your voice sounds. 
It's a few minutes longer than it should be before Mel makes it out. She lingers in her goodbyes to the twins. Kissing each of their little cheeks multiple times and saying to be good for Mam. You cross your arms when she glances to you, not bothering to say goodbye yourself. 
“Mam you didn't kiss Mommy!” Cat is saying as you buckle her into the backseat. 
“Well you don't want cooties, do you?” You do your best to lighten and tease so the girls don't think much of the difference in your goodbye to Melissa, or lack thereof. 
By the time Melissa gets home, you’ve cooled off enough to get the girls into their own beds, after plenty of stories.
You stay up, sipping on wine, until she comes strolling in through the door. 
“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” she tells you as she drops her bag and kicks off her heels.
You roll your eyes, and the anger and hurt that you were feeling earlier comes back when you look at her again. “We’re talking about this.”
“Do we have to tonight?” she groans. “I’m exhausted.”
“And I don’t give a shit,” you say bluntly. “What made you think that you could just go over my head and make the executive decision to bring the girls to the restaurant? What the hell, Melissa. You preach all the time that we’re a team, and that sure as hell didn’t feel like a team effort there.”
“It is,” your wife folds her arms over her chest and raises a brow. Usually, you would find that pose of hers sexy, but not tonight. “I told you my thoughts behind it, and I think we’re doing the right thing.”
“You were the one who created the rule that home and business never meet,” you argue. “And then you go back on it without any regard to my thoughts or feelings on it.”
“And I tried to apologize,” she huffs. “But you didn’t want to hear it.”
“Because I know you aren’t sorry!” you half shout. Then you take a deep breath and sigh. “You know what? Whatever. If you want to mix it, be my guest. But if something happens to either of our girls because of it, know that all of that guilt will be on your shoulders because I tried to stop it. Goodnight.”
You pull the blanket draped over the back of the couch down and over your body before laying down.
“Y/N,” your wife rolls those green eyes of hers. “Come on. Come to bed.”
You just turn over and close your eyes, ignoring her pleas for you to join her in your bedroom. 
Melissa huffs. You expect to hear her trudge off for your bedroom. Instead, you feel her at your back, nudging her way to share the couch with you.
“Melissa Ann, what are you doin’?”
“You won’t come to bed so I guess we’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“The point of me staying on the couch was to be by myself. Alone.”
“Yeah, but we said we’d never go to bed mad at each other, so.”
You roll your eyes. “Right, just like we said we’d never mix business and home.” You retort, shrugging the blanket off your shoulder and attempting to do the same to your wife.
Melissa doesn’t relinquish her arms wrapped around you though. “Y/N. Would you stop and just…talk to me if we’re really gonna go through this tonight?”
“Now you want to?” You say, twisting enough on the couch to get her face within your sight. “Melissa, you deliberately made a choice, completely without me, which you have doubled down on because you think it’s the right one. Isn’t it bad enough that we’re already putting them in danger just by being who we are? Now we’re gonna take ‘em somewhere and make the risk bigger? What, just ‘cause it isn’t too much so it’ll be okay? I’m not willing to gamble their lives like that! You or me, we know what the hell we’re doin’. Nobody can say we don’t. But them?” You point towards the girls’ bedroom, imploring your wife to get it. “They don’t understand why they can’t have cookies for breakfast. They don’t understand what they’d be putting on the line, not even a little bit.”
Melissa takes a shaky breath. “Why are you so up in arms about this? It’s the safest thing right now. You and I both know that the Feds will get off our backs with the girls always being around, and none of the goons are going to touch a hair on either Cat or Rosie’s heads because they know if they did, there would be hell to pay on all sides.”
“You don’t know that!” you hiss at her. “They ordered a hit on Bobby for somethin’ he did years before they killed him off- an’ he didn’t even deserve it. Who’s to say that they aren’t going to sink that low to get back at one of us?! Or to get us out of the way and to keep La Cosa Nostra up and running?! Melissa, if something happened to you or either of the girls, I would not be able to make it through. La Cosa Nostra would fall to the ground, and so would I. Do you not understand that?”
“We knew the risks we would have to take when we got into this business, and we knew exactly what risks we were bringing to the girls when you decided that you wanted children!” your wife points an accusatory finger at you.
“You and I both know that you were just as excited to have those two as I was, so do not pin this on me!” you seethe. “And I know you chose this life, but I did not. I got mixed up in it young, and I never wanted it to begin with! I certainly do not want our girls to get involved in it either!”
“You didn’t have to stay in this life!” she argues. “You chose to.”
“You know what?” you huff as you stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your wife to the ground in the process. “I’m done talking about this for now. I’m over it.”
“Listen,” Melissa grabs your wrist. “I’m sorry they took the salon out from under you, I’m sorry they handed the business over to me because they trust me more, and I’m sorry that you’re feeling like you aren’t contributing to the family anymore, but you do not get to just be a bitch like this!”
You rip your arm out of her grasp. “I’m the bitch?! I’m the bitch! I’m not the one who went over your head and gave the ledger to Barbara Howard- a rookie move! I’m not the one who disregarded everything and mixed our girls up with the business- despite the fact that we vowed to never do that! But yeah, okay… I’m the fuckin’ bitch. Don’t even try crawling into bed with me tonight.” You storm your way to your bedroom, locking the door as you slam it shut hard enough to shake the entirety of your little townhome. 
And then you absolutely lose it. You begin to curse the day that you ever stepped into that blasted salon. You wish you never got caught up in all of this, and you would’ve taken the out that you had been offered years ago. Maybe in another life you would’ve found your way to Melissa and fallen in love, having the blissful, domestic life that you had dreamed up when you were a kid. But now, you’re in deep, and you know it.
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