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xjustakay · 1 month

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jegulus micro(?)fic — 2,213 words. nsfw; the ‘James-desperately-needs-something-in-his-mouth’ episode (dedicated to my dear darling @imdamagecontrol<3)

James’ hands flex in and out of fists behind his back, wrists straining against silk tied in a firm knot around them. In reality, if he squirmed enough he could probably worm his way out of the restraint, it’s just one of Regulus’ ties, after all. But that’s not really the point.

The point, actually, is that James needs this.

He’s been so stressed lately, juggling more than he can properly carry, and it’s started to weigh on him. Make him overwhelmed. Change his mood enough to be apparent. Typically, he does a good job at hiding it, but some days…

Some days the itch beneath his skin gets a little too insistent. Some days his tone turns clipped and his mannerisms become twitchy and all that he feels is suddenly visible.

And those days, well. Those days pile up, to the point that he needs a good break.

Regulus doesn’t particularly enjoy it when he lets himself get so deep in it —there’s been pointed comments about taking care of himself over the last couple days as he’s noticed progressive changes in James. So when James had come home today after yet another long one, feeling ready to tear right out of his own skin, he’d asked.

“Can you take care of me tonight?”

Once he’d made sure he understood what it was James was asking for, Regulus was quick to give him just what he needed. A loose hold at his throat, a level stare as he pulled him inches away from his face.

A promise between the lines of Regulus’ murmured, “Be good and wait for me.”

He’d waited on the floor at the foot of the bed for ten minutes after stripping down to just his briefs, knees twinging as he tried to balance his weight more comfortably. Then Regulus had come in, wordlessly giving him a once-over before he undressed. He’d muttered gentle praises when James had let him tug both arms behind his back, Regulus securing his tie around his wrists.

Now, a familiar hand brushes his cheek, trails down to his neck. Regulus thumbs at his Adam’s apple and James swallows beneath it, staring at the jut of Regulus’ hip bone where he stands in front of him.

“Alright?” Regulus checks, hand curling loosely around his throat, pulling him close again, just like earlier.

James inhales deeply where his nose presses right above Regulus’ navel. He leaves a gentle kiss there, nods his head. The hand at his throat tightens.

“Use your words,” Regulus instructs.

“I’m good.”

James traces his tongue downward, through the thin trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of Regulus’ briefs. He catches the elastic between his teeth, tugs at it, lets it snap back against porcelain skin. Ducking lower, James mouths at the outline of Regulus’ cock, tongue wetting the fabric and feeling the way he’s slowly filling out under the attention. Regulus allows it for a few seconds more, a low hum leaving him that has heat pooling low in James’ stomach.

The pressure at James’ throat shifts and Regulus’ fingers sink into his dark hair, grip slowly tightening, palm a solid weight at the nape of his neck. His other hand tucks beneath James’ chin, his head guided into tilting backward between the two. James blinks slow, looks up toward Regulus’ face from beneath his lashes. Breathes deep. Waits.

“What do you need tonight, James?” Regulus asks; his voice is honey, thick and sweet and dripping warmth down every groove of James’ spine.

He keeps James’ chin in the curl of his fingers but stretches his thumb to trace a slow circle around his mouth. He leaves it pressed against James’ bottom lip, James darting his tongue out at it for the briefest taste. One brow arches as Regulus looks down at him.

“Something in your mouth, maybe?”

When all James does his nod, Regulus tugs sharply at the back of his hair —an unspoken demand. James’ mouth drops open, a soft gasp between parted lips.

“Yes,” He whines. “Please.”

“There you go, baby, that’s so good,” Regulus hums.

James’ lips twitch helplessly when Regulus moves to readjust his glasses for him. It’s such a tiny gentleness, a common show of his care for him, no matter how out of place it may seem in a moment like this.

The fond appreciation that unfurls warmth in his chest is derailed in seconds by the shift of Regulus’ foot, nudging between his thighs, pressing. James’ eyelids flutter as he sucks in a shallow breath. His hips twitch forward against the barely-there pressure on his cock, hard and aching in his own briefs.

“Do you think you deserve it?” Regulus asks.

He tugs at James’ hair again to jerk his head back further, presses his foot more firmly between his legs. James is already starting to feel dizzy with it; the waiting, the care, the teasing, all building into a burning buzz that’s much more pleasant than the anxious itch that’s bothered him for days. He rocks against Regulus’ foot with a shaking, needy sound crawling up his throat.

“I need it, baby.”

“But that’s not what I asked this time, is it?” Regulus counters, tone vaguely patronizing.

It shouldn’t make James’ cock twitch the way that it does, really. Shouldn’t make him unable to bank a whimper when he rocks his hips forward again.

“Do you think you deserve it?” Regulus repeats. He inches his foot away, and James whines in protest. “God, listen to you. You really do need it, don’t you?”

James nods urgently, breath hitching in his chest. “I do. Please, Regulus.”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t whimper another time when Regulus takes a small step backward, all touch falling away from him. The silver lining is watching him tuck a thumb into either side of the band on his briefs, pulling them down and stepping out of them.

Wanting eyes immediately land on Regulus’ cock the second it’s in front of him. Even the huff of Regulus chuckling above him doesn’t draw his focus away. He watches intently as Regulus wraps a hand around himself and strokes slowly.

Blown pupils hide nearly all the grey of Regulus’ irises when James finally glances up at his face again. He shifts up straighter on his knees, mouth falling open already when Regulus steps forward. A smirk tugs at the corners of Regulus’ lips and his free hand sinks into James’ hair.

He pauses in guiding his cock to James’ waiting mouth, slick head nudging his bottom lip. “What do you say?”

“Thank you.” Punches breathlessly out of James in an instant.

Regulus’ smirk inches wider and he gives a single nod. It’s all the go ahead James needs to tilt forward and finally —finally— take him into his mouth. The grip in his hair tightens as James swallows his length down, letting the weight of him settle on his tongue. He hums appreciatively around him, keeping his motions shallow to hit the back of his throat each time.

Despite the tight hold on his hair, Regulus lets James move as desired. His wrists strain against the silk around them when he instinctively wants to reach forward and balance his hands on Regulus’ thighs, but he’ll make do. He always does.

After a little while, Regulus’ other hand joins the first in his hair. He halts James’ continued movements and holds him in place.

James moans the second he starts fucking into his mouth, eyes rolling back. There’s spit collected at the corners of his mouth, sliding down his chin. Each snap of Regulus’ hips has his cock hitting the back of his throat, his moans turning garbled and wet —filthy— while Regulus looses a winded string of swears.

“This— fuck—” Regulus hisses when he thrusts forward again and James swallows, letting him feel the way his throat tightens. “This is exactly what you needed, isn’t that right, baby?”

James hums his answer, eyelids fluttering as he opens glassy eyes to look up. There’s tears building at the corners, and on a particularly hard snap of Regulus’ hips one rolls hotly down his cheek. His cheeks burn, that and the panted breaths out his nose fogging up the bottom of his glasses lenses.

James doesn’t fucking care. He doesn’t care about any of it. Let Regulus make a complete mess of him. Let Regulus use him as he sees fit.

This is all James wanted, what he needed. To release the tension he’s been feeling for days, to give up the vice grip he’s tried to maintain on control of anything at all. To be taken care of in this way; something filling his mouth and Regulus just taking from him.

He knows when Regulus is close; words are no longer manageable and his thighs tremble, thrusts becoming erratic. James expects him to come down his throat, is awaiting the burst of warmth, ready to eagerly swallow all he has to give him. But abruptly, Regulus yanks at his hair with both hands, tugging him off.

James whines brokenly, a thick string of drool connecting the corner of his mouth and Regulus’ cock. His throat is wrecked; it’s a pitiful, pathetic sounding thing when he manages a desperate, “No.”

Panting, Regulus shakes his head back and forth. One hand moves from James’ hair, thumb breaking the string of spit when he smears the slickness surrounding James’ mouth. Making an even bigger mess of him. James licks after it, twists his tongue around it, trying to be enticing, trying to get him back inside.

Regulus drops his hand entirely, grips his cock instead. He stares intently down at him, demands from between his teeth, “Keep your tongue out for me.”

Wanting to be good and knowing what’s next, James obliges. Regulus drags his hand in hurried tugs over his cock and he watches hungrily. Anticipation burns a fire in James’ veins, sends his pulse roaring in his ears, as he waits, spit pooling in his open mouth, dripping more down his chin.

It’s a minute more before Regulus cries out, head thrown back and hips lurching forward as he comes. Hot strips of white land on James’ top lip, his tongue, his glasses. Cum drips down the one lens to land on his cheek and James can’t hold back a whimper, mouth still open. He hasn’t been told to close it yet.

“Fucking Christ,” Regulus groans, hand slowing over himself as he comes down from his orgasm.

His chest is as flushed as his face, heaving with uneven breaths, and he’s fucking gorgeous like this. Wrung out and a little wobbly on his legs, shiny-eyed and out of breath. James feels just as high as Regulus looks. Even with his cock still painfully hard and leaking in his briefs, his knees throbbing when he shifts his weight for the first time in too long.

Regulus finally lets go of his length, gripping James’ slick chin instead. He swipes his thumb through the cum on James’ lip, his cheek. Collects what he can from his face, and dips a little into James’ waiting mouth to wipe it off onto his tongue a few times. Gathering as much as he can for him.

Finally, Regulus tells him, “Swallow, baby.”

James does without hesitation, moaning at the familiar taste down his throat. There’s still cum on his glasses, blurrily obscuring his view of Regulus on the one side when he blinks heavy lidded eyes up at him.

“You did so good, James.” The praise has James’ lips curling in a lopsided smile, dazed in the best way. He hums his thanks, throat too sore for immediate words, but Regulus doesn’t demand that of him this time. “Do you feel better?”

It’s a mockery of a bobble head on a dashboard when James nods hurriedly in answer. His head’s a little fuzzy still, breath slowly returning to normal for himself. A different high entirely for his comedown.

“Come on.” Regulus bends down to help James to his feet then reaches behind him to undo the tie from his wrists. “We should clean you up, you’re a mess.”

“Good,” James replies, voice rough, lazy grin widening.

Regulus rolls his eyes, but there’s no denying the affection in his gaze. He rubs at James’ wrists when his hands are brought between them and James hums quietly.

“I’ll take care of you in the shower, okay?” He murmurs, eyes darting downward.

“Y’already did, baby,” James points out.

Regulus lifts a brow. “Sorry, did you not also feel like coming tonight?”

James clears his throat in order to more clearly joke, “I think if you so much as breathed on my cock right now it’d probably be over for me.”

Shaking his head, Regulus snorts, muttering a fond ‘idiot’ beneath his breath. He leans in to press a kiss to James’ cheek, recoiling when James turns his head and nuzzles into the side of his neck, smearing leftover drool on his skin.

“Go. Bathroom, now.” Regulus points to the open bedroom door, but the control in his voice is gone; it’s half a laugh —blushing and breathless and beautiful.

James smiles adoringly at him, gives him a mock salute, and follows his instruction just the same.

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus fanfiction #drops this in the dead of night and runs #-jazz hands-#had a brain itch for a “silly little smut moment” and here we are. 2K words later #s/o to nic and us talking about being deeply unserious while writing smut #i wrote this entirely on my phone while wrapped in a blanket burrito so…#have fun! (james certainly did lmfao)#kay’s writing #kay’s microfics #<-simply just not a microfic anymore but oh well #nic tag<3

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adankrivervalleynearyou · 5 months

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glee textposts 3

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mamirhodessxox · 3 months

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Serving for our CUNTry

Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Model!Reader

Desc- Your a well know Runway model for VS & other companies dating Leon who is infact a Government agent. Unfortunately for you Leon’s team was low on backup since last mission going to complete shit which is how you ended up being recruited for the 1 time & it is a HOT mess.

Content- Mentions of ‘Bimbo’, Hints of sex, Violence, Semi gore details, funny ff this time, Reader serving for our CUNTry, bimbo!reader

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“Baby we need to recruit you for backup.” Is the words you absolutely did NOT want to hear ever in your life when dating Leon.

“So your telling me you expect me to go out on a mission with you in the middle of fucking China and use missiles & guns that I have never ever touched given the fact that all I know what to do is walk down a fucking runway and look pretty?” You spoke as Leon hesitantly nodded “Yes.”

Absolutely fucking not. no. no. no. NO! “Leon I’m literally a victoria secret model & you trust me with a fucking MISSILE?” And then he sat tapping his shoe before shrugging. “Maybe?” NO! BAD LEON! BAD! “Y’know what if I’m gonna be serving for this country involuntarily i might as-well do it how I want to do it understood?”

Leon regretted this decision immediately. He trained you for MONTHS. You were right, you were definitely better at walking down the runway in 6 inch heels than shooting a gun but who cares right? Everybody apparently. When you guys were deployed onto the mission Chris judged you HEAVILY for literally wearing Bright pink high heel pumps, the smallest skirt & crop top that had the words “Serving for my CUNTry.” With your hair in literal pigtails. If you weren’t the queen of bimbos right now then he didn’t know who was.

You all split up into duos in some random rank facility & you obviously went with Leon. Everything was going smooth at first. Until you were being chased by some random fucking creature “GOD DAMNIT Y/N SHOOT THE FUCKING THING!” “I’M A MODEL NOT A FUCKING GUN LORD LEON!” As it kept getting closer you heard a loud gunshot & nearly choked on your bubble gum.

“Oh my god you shot it!” You gasped and poked your heel at the fucked up creatures gooey head & gagged “I thought I trained you how to use a gun sweetheart.” You furrowed your brows & scoffed while your hands were on your hips “Yeah & then I realized I shouldn’t even be 0.1 millimeters away from one.” Leon pinched the bridge of his nose before running his hands down your arms “Sweetheart now is not the time to walk the runway and look pretty. You need to use the fucking gun.” You rolled your eyes “This is NOT it Leon I hope you know this.” Somehow Leon found this strangely attractive. Whether it was the current skimpy outfit you were wearing or just your attitude in general but he knew when you both got home you were in for a surprise for sure.

Hours later you were literally STRUTTING and I mean fucking STRUTTING SERVING CUNT SERVING THE RUNWAY VOGUING CUNTY into some random room after seeing Jill being nearly attacked by a bunch of the infected. You completely forgot what to do but you realize you had very sharp heels & also a gun so you put it to your own creative cunty use. In one hand you were shooting off a few of the infected and in the other you were holding your pump slamming the heel into the head of some of the zombie like people. Jill sat in a corner breathing heavily just watching in pure amazement before you flung the gunk of brains off your heel before slipping it back on.

You squealed and jumped up and down clapping “Oh my god I ate that!! Did’ya see that Jill! I TOTALLLYYY served cunt!!” Jill lightly smiled not even knowing what that meant “You sure did..” when you guys caught up with the rest of the group Jill took Leon aside “She killed half of them with her fucking pumps Leon.” He furrowed his brows “I’m sorry?? She saved you with a literal SHOE?” She nodded her head & looked over at you while you were explaining what ‘Serving Cunt’ even meant to Chris.

The team genuinely thought you were some bimbo but you somehow saved all of their asses. Even after the mission you were given some sort of Medal & grimaced at it “What the hell is that?” Leon chuckled rubbing your shoulders as you genuinely hated the fact that they gave you a medal that wasn’t even pink & cute.

One night you were appearing in yet another fashion show. The group had came for support & Leon watched as you strut down the stage & posed. Claire was in utter awe of you & Chris like a supportive father.

You were definitely made for the runway. Which would somehow be perfect for Leons next mission..

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

A/N- OKAY I LOVE model!reader & leon!!! READER SERVED SOOO MUCH CUNT & I WANNA WRITE MORE AB HER & LEON HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT THIS?

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @valkyrurx @agent-dessis-posts

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the-slasher-files · 8 months

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I headcanon König with a finger sucking kink 🤭

Hell fucking yes bestie!!!

You smile, sleepy and dopey with heavy eyes of bliss, staring up at your King as you're laid on his lap. Long, thick digits pressed against the softness that is your tongue, lapping him up and sucking before opening your mouth for König to add a third finger to your drooly, pretty mouth, fuck he loved this. Using your little mouth (oral fixation) for his own fascination, teasing just how needy you could be, shoving the tips of his gunpowder stained fingers down your throat with piercing cerulean eyes holding you in place. He watched you struggle, gag and sputter, eyes wide as his knuckles passed your willing lips, fucking your mouth wholly. Curling down to press the draping hood against your forehead so tenderly, lovingly, praising his little angel, "My perfect, fucktoy"

[Send me a NSFW headcanon and I’ll write a 5 sentence ficlet about it 👀👅]

#hope this is gooooood #a bit wordy but oh well #good practice #könig #cod #call of duty #my writing #modern warfare #fandom #fanfiction #x reader #x you #x s/o #imagine #smut

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s-creations · 5 months

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26 Ways to Feel Mortal - I: Illumine

26 Chapters based around experiences that newly arrived Geno experiences while trying to find the Star Pieces.

Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms, Super Mario RPG Rating: Teen and UP Audiences Relationship: Mario/Geno (Nintendo), Mario/Princess Peach (Nintendo) Additional Tags: Rating for Teen needed for later chapters, but shouldn't be to worrisome, I'll have warnings if I'm worried, Poly relations!, Main characters will always be named, Minor characters will arrive as needed, the chapters are not in a specific order, just meets the needs of the given word, please be aware of spoilers.

Warning: It's getting a little gay in here. XD

Illumine: (verb) Light up; Brighten.

Nimbus Land was still in full swing even as the sun started to sink below the horizon. All thrilled to know that their king had not been sick and that Mallow had finally returned home. Much like the celebration at Seaside Town, there was an array of food and music filled the slowly chilling air.

However, there were a few stark differences this time. This celebration took place in a large, outdoor dance hall. Ornately decorated and lit with the largest golden chandeliers the party had ever seen. Garro demoed his creations, each party member getting their own golden statue. Finally, Geno was actually participating this time around.

He joyfully partook in the food that lined the large table, mainly the sweets. Even after Peach asked that he eats something sustainable. The conversations, while few and far in between, were flattering with the citizens thanking Geno from saving them. Eventually he claimed a table and chair, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. Deciding to just enjoy his pile of sweets while he watched everyone dance. Foot tapping to the beat of the music.

“Hey you,” Mario approached, “You doing okay over here?”

Geno nodded, swallowing his latest bite before answering with, “I’m not one for socializing, apparently.”

“That’s fine, you don’t have to. Hope you don’t mind if I join you?”

“No, go ahead.” Geno smiled as he watched Mario pull up a chair so they sat next to each other.

“So, this is, what, the second party you’ve been to?” asked Mario.

“Well, technically I wasn’t very attentive during my first one.”

“Oh, right.”

“I will note that this one is far more enjoyable.”

Mario laughed at that, Geno holding back his laughter as he’d just taken a large bite.

“That’s good to hear.”

They fell silent for a while. Geno casually follows the dancers before him. Fascinated at how people could move in such a way and make it look effortless. Some even appeared to be gliding, floating across the floor as if not held down by gravity.

“Did you want to dance?”

Geno was pulled back to Mario, the human’s cheeks holding a soft pink. “What?”

“Dance, did you want to dance?”

“Oh, uh, probably not the best idea. You didn’t see my first few steps. Not exactly graceful.”

“It’s been awhile since then. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Geno shifted nervously, “...I’d rather not risk ruining everyone’s good time.”

Mario frowned at that, “You won’t.”

“I’ll be safe over here. I’m okay, trust me.”

The attempt to move away from the request fell on deaf ears. As the next second Geno was gently, but strongly, pulled from his chair. His soul shivering with nervousness as Mario led him further onto the floor.

“W-Wait, Mario!”

“You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Geno’s nerves were not helped when they stopped near the center of the floor. “Are you sure about this?”

“Everyone’s enjoying themselves, no one’s even looking at us. Here, put your hands on my shoulders. And I’ll place my hands here…”

The panicked fear Geno held fell away and replaced with absolute joy as Mario placed his hands on the puppet’s waist. “O-Okay, what do we do now?”

“We just say to the beat,” Mario said easily, already moving to the music. Geno felt a little jittery when he started to move as well. Eventually falling into the same rhythm as Mario. “There, see, you got it.”

“I still feel strange,” Geno mumbled weakly, “and we’re not moving like everyone else.”

“Dancing has a lot of different movements. We’re just taking it slow. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing.”

Letting out a slow breath, Geno lowered his shoulder to try and relax further. His eyes couldn’t remain still though. With Mario so close, Geno felt weird just staring at the human. But looking elsewhere resulted in watching everyone else dancing which would raise Geno’s worries once more.

“Have I told you that Peach attempted to teach me to ballroom dance?”

Geno’s eyes landed on Mario, who was smiling softly.

“No. I don’t think you have.”

“It was a disaster. Apparently, I can combo jumps like no one before me, But moving in an elegant formation is just not for me. Just can’t do it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Peach couldn’t walk for a week.”

Geno couldn’t help but laugh. The sound somehow rang louder than the music playing. But he didn’t seem to notice, slowly calming down “I thought you were supposed to keep her safe?”

“Hey, I do that just fine!”

“Uh huh, sure you do.”

“Well, just for that.”

Geno let out a rather unflattering shriek as he was suddenly lifted off the ground. It quickly turned into another round of laughter as he was easily swung around. Gently being put down on the ground with Mario wrapping his arms around Geno gently.

“Don’t do that!” Geno hissed, still giggling.

“You’re laughing, you liked it.”

“Shush, I can’t believe you did that.”

“You’re still giggling.”

“Shush! I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“Oh, guess it’s time to fix that.”

The joyous laughter rang out once more. This time joined by Mario’s. Both seemed to ignore the music as they continued to rather clumsily twirl around the dance floor. Others were enjoying the display with their own, far more quiet laughter.

This interesting dance stopped when the song started to come to an end. Both breathless from the movement and laughter, which was dying down to heavy breathing.

“You’re ridiculous,” Geno pointed out.

“You love me for it.” Mario easily argued back.

His already furiously thumping soul seemed to leap from his body. Geno gave a nervous but please smiled as he whispered back, “I do… I really do…”

The room suddenly started to grow dim. The previous song ending with a new, slower song now starting. Following with the quiet calm, Mario silently pulled Geno closer. Wrapping his arm around the puppet’s waist tighter, having Geno rest his head on the human’s shoulder. The other hand gently gripped onto one of Geno’s.

It felt as if he soul was singing. Geno closed his eyes as he relaxed further into Mario’s hold. He hadn’t felt this comfortable, this content, this happy before. It was a confusing feeling but something that Geno was more than willing to immerse himself in the feeling. For as long as he’d been alive, even with the lowest points he’d met, he’d never felt so alive before.

He loved being here. He loved fighting for and defending those who couldn’t. And he absolutely love and adored-

“Geno?”

Said puppet hummed softly.

“Are you…glowing?”

At that, Geno opened his eyes. The cracks where the joints connected had beams of lights emitting from them. The hollowed portions of his body seemed to shine from the same light. All of this was made more apparent by how dark the room had become. Geno hyper aware of how many eyes were on him.

“T-This is new…” Geno said weakly, offering a little laugh. He looked back to Mario when he felt a hand placed on his cheek. The human looking absolutely star struck.

“Mario?”

Face breaking into a warm smile, Mario gently pulled the other forward to press his lips to Geno’s cheeks.

“You’re beautiful.”

Geno was certain his Star companions could see him from their home with how brightly he shined.

#geno smrpg #geno #mario #mallow #princess peach #bowser #genario #s-creations #fanfiction #if anyone can guess where I got the inspiration from I'll give you a cookie #oh and a small one-shot written for you #XD

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dazais-guardian-angel · 7 months

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Y'all, I think I've figured it out. Operating on the assumption that the finale is indeed an alternate timeline from the manga, then someone could have written on a page of the Book to rewrite reality to lead to the events of the finale sometime during season 5's events. In other words, this would explain the INCONSISTENCIES with things that were established or at least heavily implied/assumed prior and in the manga: Chuuya being a real vampire and not in control, nothing being planned, Dazai giving sincere speeches, Dazai really being shot and saying his "last words", Fyodor's hand not being injured, soukoku not killing Fyodor while in Meursault because they literally couldn't and Dazai needing Sigma to discover Fyodor's secrets because of that, Fukuchi's goal not being one that relied on Fukuzawa being alive since he clearly intended to kill him, etc etc too many more to count

Events and explanations in the finale feeling so contradictory and out of place, and characters feeling so ooc and not acknowledging any discrepancies, makes perfect sense if you consider that, up until a certain point, this was our canon timeline — until someone rewrote the ending of the arc with the Book, starting with Fyodor injuring his hand...! We only have one example of the Book being used to majorly rewrite reality in the manga, and when that happened, the main players — the ADA members — were aware that reality was changed, even though they did have memories of the new rewritten reality. BUT, Nikolai was unaware of this during that scene, and so also were all law enforcement because of the clause written on the page accounting for that, so what if the same thing could happen in this instance, to prevent all our characters in the finale from being aware that things had changed? We literally saw someone writing Nikolai's dialogue for him; imagine someone doing that during Dazai's final speech in the episode, and during all the rest of it! I don't know who this would be, but possibly a mysterious third party who got a hold of a different page from the Book somewhere and wrote things to turn out this way, because they wanted the ADA to win against Fukuchi and Fyodor? Maybe even because... this is the only way they can win?

Remember Atsushi asserting this plan, and how silly and too simple it sounded? What if someone else ended up doing just that, writing their own simple outcome for the ADA to win (as a narrative of course, which is probably why it had to start with the major catalyst of, again, Fyodor injuring his hand)? Additionally, if that's what happened, maybe the ending of the finale is a sort of side effect to the Book being used improperly in this way, leading to a destabilization of the timeline or a mishmash of other timelines into the anime one, leading to the alternate Fukuchi and Akutagawa we see there?

#bungou stray dogs #meta #THIS MAKES SO MUCH FUCKING SENSE AND EXPLAINS SO MUCH I'M GOING TO SCREAM #i guess this is sort of a foregone conclusion that the Book is the result of this timeline #since we ALREADY KNOW the different timelines are a result of the Book s;dlkfkgfkdlsl #but it only just occurred to me of the Book being used like. MID-PLOT #THE FINALE REALLY IS JUST BAD FANFICTION LITERALLY LMAOOOOOOOO #A BONES EMPLOYEE GOT ISEKAI'D INTO THE BSD UNIVERSE AND REALLY FUCKING WANTED THAT HAPPY ENDING FOR S5 IN 24 MINUTES COME HELL OR HIGH WATE #AND GOT ONE OF THE PAGES AND JUST WROTE IT THEMSELVES!!!!!! 😂😂😂😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣#they'd had enough of the people slandering their anime adaptation. they said oh we'll REALLY give you something to cry about #BUT THAT WOULD EXPLAIN WHY CHARACTERS FEEL OOC!! IF THEIR DIALOGUE WAS WRITTEN FOR THEM VIA THE BOOK!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHH #....what if it's Dazai. What if Dazai wrote this ending just like he wrote the Beast timeline. What then—#I guess Beast in and of itself is one massive example of things being rewritten and no one but the writer (Dazai) remembering/being aware #that they were ever different #so.......... it's not impossible despite what we saw with Sunday Tragedy #i'm telling you though i've connected the dots #if things go differently in the upcoming chapters #and we see that other Fukuchi and we find out about someone using the Book i'm going to LOSE MY MINDDDDDD

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bootlegfrank · 11 days

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Sometimes you like a guy and you want to read fanfic about him, but everything sucks cuz everybody hates him. Sometimes you like a guy and you want to read fanfic about him, but everything sucks because everyone IS A COWARD.

#this is about rpf #bob bryar #grian #etc etc all the other guys #fanfiction #text #oh no i just realised that this reads as if every fanfic sucks and altho some do thats not what i meant i meant that the situation s shit

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xhanisai · 1 year

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The fact that Su-Han wasn’t introduced earlier when Master Fu still had his memories is such a missed opportunity!

I wanted to see these pathetic old men squabble over who gets to mentor these two teenaged heroes and who is stronger than the other and who is less scared of akumas!!!

JUST WE NEED MORE UNHINGED MENTORS WHO ARE ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE AT THEIR JOBS!

#miraculous ladybug #oh well there's always fanfiction that i can write to make my self-indulgences come true #s o b

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corvidcrybaby · 1 month

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That one scene from IT but with Judah instead (there's something about drawing his severed head getting up to shenanigans that just cracks my shit up - also, blood is fucking hard)

#hellsing #hellsing oc #my ocs #my art #clip studio paint #hellsing fanfiction #hellsing fanfic #hellsing fandom #hellsing fanart #judah the hammer #vampire oc #it's extra funny bc he's ace and touch repulsed so he would never ask this #you'd expect him to be disgusted by zemicard on moralistic grounds but no he just thinks they need to GET A ROOM YOU SICKOS #homie who won't let you hold hands with your S/O in front of him without making loud exaggerated gagging noises #i'm also now realizing I needed to add the lighting to his hair as well but oops oh well it's finished as it is #i'm not picking at it any longer #also peep the OCCUPY AKROPOLIS and REMEMBER ELASA magnets

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yourpalmalika · 8 months

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I'm probably the minority here but I don't get the hype around "Neil Gaiman took inspiration from/incorporated fanwork into season 2!" like it's a good thing. Like it's a smart decision even?

"He made Ineffable Bureaucracy canon!" "He made Starmaker Crowley canon!" "He made archangel Crowley canon!" "He gave us oh. oh. moments and fanfic scenes!"

What's so exciting about that? To be honest, it's even a little embarrassing. YOU'RE the writer. WE'RE the fanbase. FANwork is FANwork. It's ours. Come up with your own stuff???? I'm pretty sure you can manage that. Unless, of course, the goal wasn't to tell a coherent and original story...

#and on top of that #oh how he SWORE he never touched fanfiction EVER #and now hes admitting he thought of ib only because fandom shipped them?#good omens critical #yes. i dont know what fun is and no im not gonna let people enjoy things #/s #gos2

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eiraeths · 3 months

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in the medically discharged soap au im working on i wanna make him have dysautonomia. like he loses his left leg below the knee thats gotta fuck with your ans somehow. plus i have dysautonomia and i think the way it interacts with the pns and sns would be cool to explore not cool but like good?? not good its bad but like i want to inflict pain and having a disorder that makes your autonomic nervous system suck paired with ptsd which makes your nervous system hyperactive theres gotta be something there. does this make sense? i probably need to write this down in a clear way before i actually implement it into the story

#and do more research on losing a limb #ive got the recovery time and general process written down for it #but none of the various complications that come with it #i will find a way to give soap dysautonomia #i think i could definitely give him oh and it work well as a complication #do you guys think i could text my cardiologist and neurologist and be like heyyy wanna give me a crash course for a fanfic #LOL #fuck im imaginging that now #they’re both late 20’s early 30’s they definitely know what fanfiction is #soap cod #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #fic rambles #medically discharged soap au

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fandxmslxt69 · 3 months

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help im looking at the course outline for my creative writing class and the teacher was like "oh yeah, I added a fanfiction unit" a WHAT

#thats so fucking funny #bc me and her talk abt writing fanfics for some of our favourite books ALWAYS #she HAS ONE written.#in the planning phase anyway #i get to hear snippets of it #its very silly and i love her for it #i dont know if she knows I write fanfiction on this godforsaken site #she def knows I read it.#actually given what SHE;S writing she probably knows what i read too #this is so funny #how do i act normal abt this #“oh wow you're so good at writing this stuff!” yes bc it is what i do in my free time thank you for pointing it out.#clem talks <3

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mamirhodessxox · 4 months

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Wreak Havoc

Death Island!Leon S Kennedy x Umbrella!Reader one shot

Desc: When Leon & His team Rebecca, Chris, Jill & Claire run into an incident at Alcatraz Reader unexpectedly shows up to grab one of the secret antidotes for her personal studying on the new virus being sprung on humanity & in the process gets into a fight with Leon that makes it clear to everyone about the twos old love history.

Content: Violence, Mentions of heartbreak, Death Island!Leon x Umbrella!Reader, small Implication of sex, Angst, Fluff??, Happy ending :)

Word Count: 1913 Words used

Leon’s plans were far from what was currently happening, The poor guy was just trying to go on a tour around San Francisco but instead he was stuck in alcatraz fighting off the undead becoming infected & even uninfected and when he was told to grab the antidote to stop all of this mess he ran into you which was an even bigger pain in his ass.

You see, when you were In the technological area of the prison so was Leon & when you were standing across from him in the room his heart was already preparing to jump out of his chest, You two had multiple encounters on past missions that it even had a small fling between you guys but you couldn’t let him too close as you felt the fear of being heartbroken by the man who was your first love, first fuck & first everything so you cut ties with Leon before things got too ‘serious’ and clearly there was still that little spark between you both as you felt a small twang in your chest making direct eye contact with his blue eyes.

You couldn’t handle the tension or distraction that was stopping you from getting what you needed for Umbrella since they wanted to test this virus on multiple people like experiment subjects, the silence was loud & all the two of you heard were technical wires sparking and faint noises from some freakish monster fighting Jill so you cut the memories short & finally spoke up “You done reminiscing on the past yet” “As done as you are, what the hell are you doing here?” Your eyebrow perked up a bit as he held the gun attached to the belt of his jeans “I think you already know why i’m here Leon so let’s make those easy and start handing me the goddamn antidote” “Not happening doll, You know what happened last time you pulled one of these stunts.” You scoffed before stretching your arms “Fine you want to make this difficult and hurt your fragile ego we can play that game.”

Immediately as you started sprinting towards Leon he picked you up and practically body slammed you onto the floor but that still didn’t stop you from anything, you tugged on his hair and lifted both your legs and quickly wrapping them around his head putting his face in an area he was VERY familiar with & very much so missed but that’s for a later discussion, You flipped him over to where you were not on top and quickly got up but much to your demise he didn’t give up, he stood up and tried slamming you against a wall but you acted fast and held on multiple wires hanging from the ceiling and started swinging back & forth enough that you kicked him in the face “Son of a bitch!” You Snickered at his pain as he landed on a technical board while you jumped onto the ground and grabbed a random pole about to hit him with it but he held up his wrists against the pole causing it to bend “Why do you choose to make my life more- fuck!- more difficult than it already is sweetheart!”

You glared at him as he used one of his pet-names for you as a verbal weapon, he knew exactly what he did with that name and he knew it would hurt you in a place of your heart that you locked up & shoved away, “why do you choose to get in the way of MY job leon?” He smirked as he pushed you back as you attempted to hit him one more time “Because you’re so in love with me beautiful” You hated the way he spoke to you with sarcasm sometimes but you knew it was true, You were unexceptionally in love with him despite your split up & you hated it with your entire soul, “Just give up the act sweetheart you know your not gonna get what you want.” He warned as you kept trying to get swings at him but would fail miserably because of his dodges that he learned from training many years ago

After 30 more minutes of endless fighting you eventually gave up, both of you sat across from each other in two separate corners breathing heavily & sweat running down your guys’ face eventually leon broke the silence with a heavy sigh “Why do you do this to me Angel? You know how much you make my heart hurt when I see you so why do you do it?” You refused to acknowledge what he was saying to you so eventually he got annoyed and crawled his way towards you & almost placed a hand on your knee but you quickly pressed your high heel boot against his forehead & lightly pushed him back to where he sat on his stomach sighing “Sweetheart why did you leave? was it something I did back then I just don’t get it? What did I do?” You became irritated with his nagging for answers so eventually you fessed up. “It wasn’t You Leon. I think you know that by now. I was scared of you breaking my heart at some point so I prevented it from happening by dumping you before you could do it to me.”

Leon looked at you with sympathetic eyes while sitting up and moved your leg out of the way to cup your face into his hands while he hummed softly “You know that I would have never left you right? No matter how fucked up your little mind is I find it extremely fucking attractive to the point where I even bought you an engagement ring doll.” You rolled your eyes trying to move your head out of his grasp but he didn’t budge, “Yeah right, I highly doubt tha-“ “It’s true sweetness, I even have it in my wallet to this day after all of those years.” You watched him move one of his hands off of your face and digging into the pocket of his pants and pulling out a wallet he still somehow had on him & fishing out a ting that was slowly starting to show off how old it was getting & placed it into the palm of your hand “You know I never lie Doll face.”

You felt your breath hitch slightly but you gave the ring back to him and just around that time a guy as buff as leon but with short brown hair busted through the doors “Goddamnit Leon where the fuck have you been! And who the hell are you?!” You glared as Leon stood up & pulled you up along with him “Don’t worry about it Chris, let’s go before that weird fucking monster eats up rebecca.” Rebecca? Who the fuck is Rebecca? You didn’t have time to blurt out this question since Leon was dragging you along, Once your eyes settled on that big creature that was swinging it’s weird large fucking tentacles at what seemed to be Jill & Claire you felt pure fear run through your veins

“Rebecca!” You snapped your head as you heard Leon shout out this woman’s name once again but then you saw her run towards Leon with a box of what seemed to be the antidotes of the virus and even samples of said virus. You watched as she hugged around him in relief while blood ran down her face and it made the blood inside of your own body start boiling that you snatched the box she held & quickly held out your gun at Leon, Chris & Rebecca “we’re going to kill whatever the fuck that thing is back there & we’re all going to go our merry separate ways and i’m going to be taking this” “Who the hell do you think you ar-“ you quickly aimed back at Rebecca with an anger expression plastered on your face in which Cho Leon took note of “Watch it Bill Nye I will easily shoot whatever is in that fucking large cranium of yours.” Chris glared you down but you didn’t care, you put your gun away set the box down and started loading up some sort of large machine gun that could possibly take down whatever creature you saw Jill & Claire fight with, Chris was busy making sure Rebecca wasn’t wounded or infected while Leon practically hovered over you trying to help but you would shove him away “What the hell was that about huh? You’re not taking shit from us got it?”

You kept ignoring him, just as you got to make the machinery work the creature had slammed of its tentacles on the area you & leon were currently located causing you to fall down & hang onto a piece of metal while Leon was slammed against a wall “SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME?” You saw Leon quickly spring up and run directly towards you while Chris got ahold of a large rocket launcher & continuously blow up the creature wreaking havoc on everybody, You hear Claire shout something out towards Jill & Rebecca run towards You & Leon to help him grab you as he was slowly sliding off of the platform, Leon quickly grabbed onto your hand dragging you back up causing him & Rebecca To fall backwards while you rolled onto the side as you groaned loudly after just now realizing there was a deep gash in your side & due to you quickly loosing blood you passed out.

Eventually you woke up but it was outside of the prison on the ground patched up in stitches & gauze wrapped around the stitched up gash, You sit up quickly and wince causing Leon to move away from his group & kneel towards you “Good-morning sunshine, Thought I lost you for a second.” He chuckled out lightly while your eyebrows furrowed “Is it dead?? What are we doing out he-“ “it’s more than dead don’t worry.” Jill reassured with a smile on her dirtied face “We haven’t seen you in a while, It’s good to finally see you.” Claire spoke out walking towards you “Thanks..It’s nice seeing you guy’s too..” Leon cleared his throat indicating he wanted to speak with you so Claire & Jill walked off towards chris & Rebecca ass he grabbed ahold of your hands “Sweetheart I think you know we will never be able to avoid each other so that’s why I’m going to ask- not even ask TELL you to Marry me, give us an actual chance & be with me. I’ll handle all of your Umbrella bullshit an-“

You smiled up at him and leaned up as much as you could to grab his face and kiss him “Fine. I’ll marry you.” He grinned and just as he was about to kiss you deeply Rebecca stepped towards you “Y/N right..? I’ve heard a lot about you & I just wanted to address that..Leon & I? Have nothing between us an-“ You smile reassuringly “It’s fine rebecca, Don’t worry about it.” Rebecca smiled in relief & congratulated the both of you & eventually a helicopter came around and picked you all up & brought you all to a facility.

2 years later since then Leon & You got Married & Even had a child recently! A sweet little girl who had the both of you wrapped around her finger. Life was doing great you would say, Until You had gotten a call from a very very old friend of yours Albert Wesker, Alerting you that your work is needed immediately for yet, another outbreak.

xtripleiiix’s masterlist

🏷️a list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert

#oh my fucking goooood #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #jill valentine #chris redfield #claire redfield #death island leon #Spotify

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mishwanders · 2 years

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Save My Soul

Pairing: Vampire Noir Leon Kennedy x Female!reader

Collab with the vampire queen, @lottathoughts , please go check out the first part here!

Warnings: Vampire Smut/Adult content. Fingering, PIV, blood, biting.

Minors DNI. Remember folks, cover it before you smother it. Enjoy, cock suckers.

Time to take a peek under that mask. Are you scared?

She followed the devil masked man up the stairs, passing by the stream of people that were scattered throughout it and the labyrinth of halls. The sound of jazz was swimming through the air as dozens of brass bands played. They had made their way to the top floor, to a dark wooden door at the end of the hall. The man opened it, allowing her to enter first. Once they were both in, he removed his suit coat, placing it on the coat rack next to the door, then proceeded to lock it without her knowing.

It was a nice office. Much of the interior was dark, with glints of gold and emerald throughout the room. There was a large mahogany desk with an emerald green chair to the left. A matching emerald couch with gold filigree was sitting in the center of the room, a dark mahogany coffin with matching gold hardware in front of it. She guessed that it must have been what he decided to use as a coffee table. Was it morbid? Maybe, but considering where they were, in the Quarter of all places, it definitely fit right in.

A cross from it was a warm, roaring fireplace, with a painting hanging above that included a girl, the city, and the river of mud. She couldn’t help but stare at the beauty of the room, it was nicer than anything that asshole husband of hers ever had. It would be a nice place to leave her thoughts of him behind in.

The man she was with walked up behind her, surprising her by gently placing his hand on the small of her back, standing beside her. She looks into his eyes feeling completely hypnotized by him. From his crystal ball blues, to his lips that looked as poisonous and pink as Oleander. He was captivating in every way, and she craved him more than the warm coffee at Café Du Monde. She desperately wanted to take a peek under that mask to see what kind of angel or demon was hiding behind it, but it definitely wasn’t the only thing she wanted to take a peek under.

He smiled at her and she caught a glimpse of those sharp white canines again. He looked deadly in every way. Hell, people dance with the devil for a reason, don’t they?

He walked her over to the couch with him. The click of his cane against the floor falling in tune with the jazz that reached them through the door. He sat down, leaning back against the couch, taking her form in. She was infatuating, like the statue of a goddess incarnate before him. He took his cane and hooked it around the back of her leg, pulling her in between his own as his other hand found its place on her hips, pulling her down to his lap.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” He said, “Take a seat.”

She does as she’s told, straddling his lap. Her heart begins to race in her chest, pounding like the speed of the drums that reached her ears. She slid her hands up his chest, up to his tie and began to loosen it slowly. He moved in closer to him, enough that their lips were barely touching before finally asking.

“Well, handsome devil, may I have a name before you decide to sweep me away?”

He stared into her eyes, hands wandering up every curve of her body before one finally settled in the curve of her neck.

“Leon.”

Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled her into him, their lips pressed together tightly in a heated kiss, one that neither of them dared break. Leon pushed his tongue past her lips, taking in every taste of her. Hiding underneath the bitterness of booze that permeated her tongue, there was a hint of sweetness - one that kept pulling him in deeper to her.

She finally removed the tie from around his neck, beginning to work on the buttons of his vest and shirt. He kept one of his hands on her hips, pushing her down on him as she began to grind herself against his lap. The other was caught up in her hair, keeping her lips against his. His sharp teeth gently grazed on her bottom lip as he sucked on it.

She could feel herself being lured in by him, the desire for him growing with each passing second. She pushed his dress shirt away from his body, feeling his skin against her fingertips. She whimpered on his lips, craving for more, begging for more. Her mind was no longer occupied with the bitterness she’d felt for another man, she was only consumed with desire for Leon.

He released her from the kiss and moved his hands to her shoulders, pulling the straps of her dress down to her midriff. He took one of her boobs into his hands, bringing her closer to him. He kissed the soft plump skin, trailing down to her nipples where he began to tease it with his tongue. She let out a moan at the sensation - it felt really good to be touched like this. She wrapped her arms around his head, fingers entangled in his pillow soft hair, keeping him close to her. She didn’t want him to stop yet.

While his mouth was busy, his hands were not. He moved his hands to the hem of her dress, lifting it up, feeling the soft skin of her thighs and ass. He felt that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath this dress. He couldn’t help but smile in the midst of all of this. She was the woman of his dreams. He moved his right hand in between her legs, his fingers dancing circles around her clit, sliding their way to her folds. He could already feel the arousal that had pooled there, using it to slip his fingers inside of her, curling them as he pumped them in and out.

She stared into his eyes, her mouth agape as a moan rolled out of her. He could see just how desperate she was for his touch.

“Your husband doesn’t touch you like this, does he?” Leon inquired

She shook her head, unable to get out any words. Hell, she didn’t want to speak of that man again anyway.

Leon chuckled, thinking about it.

“That’s a damn shame. Let me treat you then darlin’.”

He went faster, pushing his fingers in further. She fell forward into his embrace. Leon used his other hand to hold her back, pressing her bare chest close to his. Her warm skin felt like heaven against his own. He could hear her pulse playing like a drum in his ears. The jazz outside was good, but god this was a sound that called out to him like no other.

“Oh fuck Leon~” She whispered into his ear, her panting becoming more labored.

Leon knew what that meant, that she was close, ready to take him now. He removed his fingers from her, tasting what was left of her on his fingers, and damn was she delicious. Sweeter than the powdered sugar of a beignet.

He quickly removed himself from behind his suit pants, aching to be inside of her now, to feel her warmth envelope him. She lowered herself down onto him, her hands gripping onto the golden filigree behind him. She hissed, feeling him stretch her out completely as he let out a sigh of relief. He moved both of his hands under her, holding her up by her ass as he helped her bounce up and down on him. The room was soon filled with the sound of each other’s body’s meeting each other, their moans overflowing, spilling of the other’s lips.

“Fuck you feel so good around me. You look amazing like this.” He praised

God she knew better than to let it go to her head, but fuck she’d never been praised before, and it surged her on more, picking up her pace as she continued to he dance on him. Leon loved watching her chase after high that she so desperately wanted, getting to enjoy the view of her body by the glow of the fire. She looked angelic to him. He wondered if she could let him know where he could go to save his damned soul. She probably didn’t, but hell, fucking an angel like this, didn’t hurt his chances of finding out.

It wasn’t long before she began to slow her pace, her legs shaking around his hips and in his hands as she finally reached her high, moaning out his name intertwined with curses. He smiled that devilish smile, knowing she was perfect for the taking now.

He pushed her down to his side, her back laid down on the emerald couch, hovering over her. She could see his crystal blue eyes looking at her like a predator looks at prey. She felt her heart catch in her throat, waiting for what was to happen next.

Leon picked up one of her legs, placing it over his shoulder as he inserted himself into her again. He leaned in closer, his lips attached to her shoulder as he stretched her out. He began to move in her, hearing her moan his name once again. It sounded better to him than anything Lucifer could have played in that heavenly choir.

He picked up his pace, causing her moans to turn into cries for him now. He felt her pulse hammering away now against his ear. He was already close to reaching his high after the way she used him. But now -

Now it was time to feed.

He bit into her shoulder, feeling the blood fill in his mouth. He tasted sweetness he sensed earlier filling his mouth, the scent of it permeating his nose, getting drunk off it. He would have emptied her of everything in her body if he wasn’t careful. He wanted to drown in the sweet taste of an angel's blood.

He felt himself release inside of her, his hips slowing down, staying inside of her as he continued to drink more. He heard her voice turn into nothing more than a whisper of his name now. He finally released her from his jaw, lapping up the trickle of blood that escaped from the wound. He saw her, eyes half lidded, breathing slowly. She looked beautiful in her bliss. He kissed her lips one last time, before removing his mask, to finally show the face of this devil to her. He was even more beautiful than she’d ever expected, his cheek bones chilled by god himself. He looked into her eyes again, looking at her less like a predator, now with a gentle warmth filling his cold blue eyes.

“Stay here as long as you need, sweetheart. He won’t miss you, and I can take care of you, so long as you want it.”

#resident evil fandom #resident evil fic #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #vampire leon s kennedy #vampire leon kennedy #vampires #the vampire bug has bitten me #oh look a sprinkle of RT in there too #hehehehe whoops #Spotify #spicy writing: leon kennedy

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rogueshadeaux · 6 months

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Chapter Twenty-Four — Burden Borne

How much bloodshed? How many people would have to die so their graves could be the foundation of peace? How many more was I supposed to be able to stomach, to see as permissible? Why was there a fucking allowed amount in the first place?

4.7k words | 16 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death, injuries, natural disaster, murder, testing condoned by the US Government

“We’ll call you with results as soon as we get them,” the doctor said as the nurse rushed off with the skin biopsy. Dr. Sims nodded, thanking her for her time as she finished dressing another new set of stitches and snapping off thick surgery gloves, disappearing past the curtain and out the door.

Dad was pacing now, his shadow casting across the floor again and again as he passed by the open window. Brent was in his chair, steering clear of his stomps lest he wished to be bulldozed over. Dr. Sims double checked the new set of stitches on my leg, shaking his head slightly.

No one would talk, and I think that’s what scared me the most about this. I’d just found out Augustine had some mystery power when we fought, something Dad and Dr. Sims weren’t even familiar with, and no one would say anything! It felt like I was attending my own wake, like my fate was already out of my hands.

Dad was the first to break. “You ever heard of anything like this?” He asked Dr. Sims.

Dr. Sims stood, helping me cover my leg back up with the blanket. “A power that can negate someone’s healing? No.”

Dad went right back to pacing. “I didn’t even know tar could be a power,” he muttered.

“I’ve…heard rumors,” Dr. Sims said, moving back to his computer and scrolling through it a bit. “But nothing like this.”

“What do we do?” Dad demanded.

I could see how Dr. Sims tensed even with his back turned, how he hesitated for a moment before saying to Dad, “I want to get samples before jumping to any conclusions. I know someone who could help, but not without that tar.”

Dad glanced over at me — only for a moment, though. It seemed like he couldn’t stomach looking at me for too long. “I can’t go right now,” He said pointedly.

Dr. Sims logged out of the mini-laptop and closed in, turning in place. “I’ll go back to Salmon Bay, see if I can find anything.” He was already shrugging on his jacket by the time Dad agreed. “I’ll call you if the doctors get back to me before I return,”

Dr. Sims then turned to regard both Brent and I. “If either of you can think of anything else, tell your father.”

He left on hurried goodbyes, leaving the three of us in an awkward and tense silence.

Dad wouldn’t stop pacing, and Brent refused to look me in the eye. Both seemed angry, though I wasn’t really sure why — well, no, I knew why Brent was. He was up in arms because I had the gall to give a fuck about him enough to try and keep Augustine from making him malleable. All I knew was I couldn’t stand being in the room much longer. “Dad?”

He only hummed in response. “D’you think it’s okay if I take that bath?”

I got final confirmation from the doctor that it was okay so long as I didn’t get that hole in my neck wet, and left the two of them to ruminate on their issues, giving myself the time to worry about my own.

I wasn’t prepared to face my reflection and see that’s what I looked like. I felt like I was more bandage and bruise than human; so many parts of my skin lit up blue, like I rolled around in spilled ink. My back was steeped in iodine and littered with black stitches, the skin around the slice on my side was bright red. My neck was even a little bit swollen on the left of it where that ball of concrete hit it. I couldn’t stomach looking at myself for long. It was just another reminder of how wrong everything was.

The shallow water soothed my aches, thank god, but all that did was clear up enough room for my nerves to take hold. All I could think about was my fear. Why wouldn’t I heal, what was wrong with me? The water slid off of my legs with a laze to it, my powers working against gravity. It reminded me of that dress of water in my…dream? Hallucination? Purgatory? I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to know, because that’d be some confirmation of whether Mom was real or not. I wanted her to be real, I wanted her to be there — but that’d also mean something would have to happen to me if I was to ever meet her again. And now that I was a broken Conduit…

It felt like too much of a possibility, returning to her.

But fuck, I’d give anything to make that hug real. To make those reassurances real. I just wanted my Mom, was that so bad? I just needed someone to tell me things were going to be okay.

I broke down thinking about how gentle she was, how I missed out on a lifetime of that. Hallucination or not, I was homesick for a place I couldn’t return to.

I didn’t come back out of the bathroom for an hour, but it didn’t matter — neither of them changed places. Dad was still as a statue now, leaned against the wall and looking out of the window at Seattle, but otherwise nothing changed.

Well, that wasn’t true. The television program ended to show the mid-morning news, and I froze in the middle of braiding my hair to look at what was on it.

Elliott Bay was flooded, boats misplaced and docks completely shredded, the roofs of some shacks at the ends of piers floating freely in the flood. There were flashes of businesses partially underwater in West Seattle, of people in Queen Anne sitting atop their roofs waiting to be rescued. Downtown wasn’t spared; the base of the Space Needle was a pool, a few unlucky people in hi-vis coats wading through the polluted murk. The stream cut to a simulated chart of the flooding, captioned Christmas Eve Tsunami 2036.

“What happened?” I asked, moving towards the wall the television was mounted on. Slowly, as the ache was already permeating my body again. I might have to live in water just to make it through this healing process painlessly. I finished buttoning the spare soft flannel Dad gave me in place of a pajama shirt, staring at the simulation as ten foot tall waters overtook the map.

Dad cursed behind me, and before I knew it, the television was off, him holding the wired remote like it was an IED. He looked at me, bug-eyed, and said, “Jean—”

Why was he so freaked out? “Was there a tsunami?” I asked, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. The west was littered with fault lines, there were three in the Portland area alone — was there an actual, big earthquake this time? Did it flood Seattle?

Brent was white as a ghost when I glanced back at him, making me pause. “Did…did someone get hurt?” I asked. Tsunamis can go both ways, right? Did the reservation get flooded?

They both stayed looking at me like that, like they expected me to break, and I could feel realization settle into the ache between my shoulder blades as I thought about Christmas Eve. About how the last thing I did was summon a huge wave to wipe Augustine and the Archangel soldiers off of the earth. I wasn’t there to pull it back like I did the whirlpool, to control how the tides would fall.

Oh God. There was no earthquake, otherwise the news would have said so. There was just a tsunami, and I had an idea where it came from. “Did…” I choked out. “Did I…”

Dad slowly laid the remote back on the bed. “It’s not your fault,” He began, confirming everything I needed to know. Everything except one thing.

“How many people died?” I whispered.

Dad shook his head lightly. “Jeanie—”

I was already starting for the remote before he could say more, but he didn’t fight to stop me. Guess he knew I was going to find out regardless, and decided it’d be better to deal with the fallout than the fight.

I didn’t need to turn the volume high. I didn’t even really need to try and search for the answer; it was there clear as day on the screen, 134 CONFIRMED DEAD, Over 3,000 INJURED.

One hundred and thirty four dead.

“No,” I muttered, my uninjured hand shooting to my mouth. Oh my god, I did this. I killed all these people before Christmas. “No, no, no.”

I didn’t feel the ground rushing towards me until Brent snatched me from the air, his hold pressing into my injured side and making me yelp. None of that mattered. I deserved every bit of pain, I deserved to hurt. I didn’t deserve for Brent to catch me from my collapse and help lower me to the ground as I began sobbing, nor did I deserve Dad coming around the bed to take me from his arms. How was I supposed to act like being treated well was okay when over a hundred people were dead from what I’ve done?

I was deaf to Dad’s reassurances, barely able to see his figure past the blur of my tears — his figure on the television, I mean. There was layman footage of him pulling back a wave, just enough to make the rush an ebb before disappearing into the water again.

The only reason people were alive was because of Dad. The only reason I was, was because of Dad. How much more reckless was I going to get? “I killed those people,” I whispered, aghast.

“Jean, you weren’t there, you were gone before—“ Dad started, but I cut him off with my head shaking.

“No, no.” I sobbed.

“This isn’t your fault—“

“Stop lying to me!” I demanded on a screech that sounded inhuman. I couldn’t do this anymore! My entire life was a fucking lie, he didn’t tell me the truth when I asked what happened to Mom’s brother — I couldn’t stomach another something sugared in half-truths to help me swallow it down. He hadn’t even told me about this, and he had time to!

It was my water, my tsunami, that did this. “I did this,” I sobbed.

Was this what Augustine was trying to protect Mom from? Feeling like she was a monster because of what her powers could do?

I watched the sun set over a distressed city, all cried out. The flooding seemed to have receded mostly, if that segment was to be believed, but that didn’t mitigate the damage. The destroyed homes, the destroyed lives. My power could kill so easily, and I didn’t even stop to care about anyone else when I was freezing.

I didn’t think at all. That was the issue — I didn’t think.

“—anything, Jean?” Dad’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Hm?” I hummed, looking up. Dad and Brent were standing in the middle of some kind of delegation, Dad with his coat on.

“I said: did you want anything from the cafeteria downstairs?” Dad repeated.

I just shook my head, looking back out the window. How the hell was I supposed to eat when my stomach felt like this?

There was some more muttering but none of it really reached my ears. Footsteps, the door closing—

And then someone sitting on my bed.

I looked over to Dad just as he finished taking off his coat, and asked, “Where’s Brent?”

“Figured he could get his own food,” Dad shrugged, tossing his coat onto the seat of the chair. “Wanted to talk to you, too.”

Oh, great.

I dropped my eyes, raising my one hand to meet my other so I could pick at the PICC. “Jean,” he called gently. “None of what happened is your fault.”

“How is it not, Dad?” I whispered. I wanted to put fire behind the demand but I could barely even raise my voice.

“You weren’t…” he hesitated. “Aware for it. You didn’t intentionally push those tidal waves into Seattle.”

I might as well have.

Dad waited a while longer, probably for me to say something, and sighed when I didn’t. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for this. You were trying to protect yourself — and Brent — and you did. You know how proud I am about that? You know how many times I had to fight Augustine before—“

“It shouldn’t be at the expense of other people,” I interrupted. “I was trying to stop Augustine from killing the Akomish and I just killed way more people than she would have if I stood by,”

“But you didn’t,” Dad said pointedly. “You didn’t just stand by. I think that matters more.”

“Yeah, tell that to everyone who lost family on fucking Christmas.” I snipped.

“You’re not gonna be the hero to everyone,” Dad continued. Thank God he didn’t chastise me for cursing, I think I would have lost it if he did. “No matter what you do, someone’s going to see you as a bad guy. They did me—”

“You didn’t kill over a hundred people!” I cut him off, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “You kept me from doing more damage! You don’t get t-to sit there and act like it wasn’t a bad thing! You know it’s bad — that’s why you didn't mention mom killing her brother, and you wouldn’t have even told me about the tsunami if I didn’t see it! You know it’s something to be ashamed of,”

There were times, when Dad would engage us in our little arguments and debates, that he’d turn on the stoic lawyer thing and we’d definitely lose the fight. There was just something about arguing emotions versus logic against a person that made you talk yourself into a corner. He wouldn’t be emotionless, mind you — he’d validate points that we made, empathize. But it always felt like he was trying to teach us to not let our emotions be the only thing that drove us.

Dad dropped the bloodsucker facade for this fight. His eyes softened at the tears pooling in mine, and he bit on his cheek so hard it looked painful. “You’d just gone through hell, Jean, I didn’t want to make it any harder for you—”

“You can’t use that as an excuse,” I cut him off. “I asked you about Mom and Uncle Brent days ago. You promised no more lies and the next day you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” He stated simply. “Your uncle died because of a gang war. That’s true.”

Oh my fucking god. I ground my teeth once I realized what he did, the bastard. “You used your stupid little perjury loopholes on me?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant—”

“It was, Dad, it was very relevant!” I scoffed.

Dad leaned forward slightly. “And you would have wanted to know that? You would have wanted to know your Mom killed her brother by accident and it haunted her for the rest of her life? Your mom was on anti-psychotics because of the damage it did to her. She’d sob about it at least once a week. Augustine used that fact to get her to do her bidding, brainwashed your mother into being her perfect little sniper. Your mom deserved to be known for more than that, for better than that.”

“I would have thought that either way,” I insisted. “I would have forgiven almost anything she did, but you — you didn’t tell me, and now it feels like I can’t even trust you to give me the chance to choose.” I motioned towards the television. “You didn’t tell me what happened so that I could — so that I’d just know—”

“You needed to rest and heal before worrying about anything like that—”

I pointed to my broken arm slung in a cast, at the way the purple of its plastic almost faded away into the purple of my bruising. “That would have taken weeks! You know it’s something I should feel bad about, and that’s why you didn’t tell me. So I wouldn’t be ashamed of how I killed people.”

“You did not kill them.” Dad insisted, stressing every word. “It’s not your fault.”

“I caused the tsunami. I wasn’t in control, I didn’t think. That’s enough,”

Dad grabbed my other hand when I went to drop it, and it took everything in me not to pull away. “You were…you were dying, Jean. When we found you in the Sound a few days after you disappeared, you were in this mass that left you barely warm enough to have a heartbeat. If it wasn’t for the Sound doing that, you would have died. You can’t blame yourself for not having control when you were about to die.”

“You don’t understand,” I finally decided, looking away. Back outside of that window, back to the skyline of Seattle. How many of them blamed me for what happened?

Dad inhaled, and for a moment, stayed quiet. I knew he was probably just building another argument, something I wasn’t going to relate to at all. Something I wasn’t going to accept. Then he spoke, and what he said caught me off guard: “Do you know how many Akomish died because of Augustine?”

I looked up slowly, eyebrows raising. “Huh?”

“When you went over the Seattle Uprising in school, did they mention how many Akomish died?” he repeated. I shook my head. “Forty-eight. One hundred and thirteen were interrogated, stuffed with fucking concrete, and almost half of them died.” He sighed. “When Augustine got there after your mom and Eugene broke out, I’d just got my first power. I had it for probably fifteen minutes, max. She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and the DUP funding, all that. When I told her all he gave me was his power…she didn’t believe me. She thought I was covering for him, that I was making fun of her, and I…I didn’t show her I had powers. I could have tried. I could have done something, anything…but I froze. I watched her put concrete in Betty’s legs and I did nothing. She went through the reservation interrogating people, sticking concrete in them all, and by the time I came back with her power so I could undo it, almost fifty people had passed. I could have kept everyone from dying, and I didn’t.

“And you want to know something else? I’ve killed.” He stated plainly, admitting to the crime. “I’ve had to, to survive. To keep you safe, like in that alley. But I’ve also…I’ve done it because I wanted to. That anger your mom felt enough of to hunt down drug dealers? I’ve experienced it. I followed through with it.”

I could feel the blood rush from my face. Dad’s killed people too?

“I’ve been on both sides. At fault inadvertently, and directly involved. I’ve been in a middle ground where it had to happen. I understand. And I have enough experience to know that, what you did? Is not your fault. You weren’t out of control, you didn’t do it selfishly. You were dying and you did what you could. There’ll…there’ll be death in fights like this. Archangel is out hunting for blood, and fights like this sometimes can only be won with loss. But you cannot blame yourself for every loss that happens. You couldn’t prevent any of them, you shouldn’t have to carry that burden.”

War isn’t won in battles, but bloodshed, Augustine had said.

I stayed silent, sitting there for what felt like forever, picking at the cuticles on the hand connected to my broken arm. “Do you regret it?” I finally whispered, unable to look up.

“What?”

“Killing someone,” I clarified, meeting his eyes. “It…do you regret it?”

Inhaling, he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Why?” I asked, still nearly silent. “Why did you…”

Dad swallowed hard, and he seemed to be so far away as he thought about why. “I don’t want to justify what I did,” he started, “I can’t. It was wrong. I was on a warpath and didn’t care about anything but revenge. But I swear, I regret it. It’s haunted me since. It’s not something you can just forget, no matter how hard you try. And I regret not being honest with you. I shouldn’t have white lied my way out of explaining what happened with your mom, I’m sorry.”

I nodded, not opening my mouth to spit out some form of it’s okay because it definitely wasn’t. I didn’t feel like it was, at least. All I could keep thinking about were the casualties.

Dad squeezed my hand gently, and said, “You should eat. They’re wanting to give you an antibiotic to prevent infections and you can’t have those without food,”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “Okay.”

Brent didn’t seem like he was holding onto his anger anymore, at least. Thank God — I wasn’t sure if I could take any more fighting. He wouldn’t really meet my eyes either though, even when we were facing each other as night came, trying to fall asleep.

That was harder than it needed to be: sleeping in a hospital. Every noise seemed to carry further than possible through the halls; every machine beep, every patient’s cough, every nurse’s footsteps. My eyes may have been closed but it sure felt like my brain stayed awake through it all — which is why it was so easy to pick up on the hushed voices on the other side of the curtain.

“—hell do you think it is?” Dad finished.

“Don’t know,” Dr. Sims muttered back.

“You said you’ve heard of this shit as a power before?”

“Tar? Yeah. Way back in the day, DARPA caught this woman that worked for the First Sons, some scientist. Had tar powers. She was one of the first Conduits they started experimenting on before the DUP became a separate thing from the DoD.”

Only about twenty percent of that made sense to me.

I quietly rolled over to face the curtain that separated me from Dad and Dr. Sims, whose silhouettes were cast against the blue wall from the light of the bathroom. Dad was holding up a long tube of something, Dr. Sims standing across from him, arms crossed.

“DARPA? Like, the government?” Dad asked.

Dr. Sims’ shadow nodded. “Yeah. Turns out, they were funding the First Sons, probably the whole reason Empire City happened in the first place. The tar had mind-control abilities, and they were using it for some sort of revival of the MK-ULTRA project. Killed her over a whistleblower before the media could investigate and swept it all under the rug,”

“Jesus,” Dad breathed out.

“You’ve missed a lot the past sixteen years,” Dr. Sims laughed mirthlessly under his breath. “There’s a lot of shit the public doesn’t know. The First Sons even used this stuff to get people to attack MacGrath during the Quarantine. Made people sick too,”

Dad’s hand lowered. “And this stuff’s in my daughter? Is that why she won’t heal?”

“That’s the thing,” Dr. Sims took the tube back. “I don’t know if it’s the same, or some mutated version from the experiments, or what. I know nothing about this stuff at all.”

Dad’s next breath was shaky. “Fuck,” his head shook. “I’m scared, man. This is Abbs all over again.”

“You don’t know that, D—”

“She stopped healing first.” Dad interrupted — almost painfully. “You remember! The healing went first, and then the speed, and then the fuckin’—” he cut off when his voice caught. “I thought there was something wrong with her. I thought something about her flipped. If the same thing’s happening to Jean? That — it means it might not have been a coincidence.”

“You think it might run in the family?”

“I don’t know.” Dad tilted his head back slightly, like he was trying to keep bile from appearing. “I don’t know if I think it’s hereditary, or if…if someone maybe did something to Abbs.”

“Del, you don’t know if that’s—“

Dad’s hand swung wildly in my direction. “My kid’s got forty-six stitches! Her arm’s broken! Only other time I’ve seen a Conduit like this is when Abbs’ c-section scar got infected. We don’t get infections, we don’t get stitches. I don’t know if it’s something hereditary, or because of that shit, but I don’t like that it’s happening again.”

I blinked out of my sleep then. Mom…stopped healing, too? That was where her sickness started?

Dr. Sims hummed gently. “I’m worried too, but remember the exact same thing is happening to those old DUP agents.”

“Yeah — ‘cause they’re forced Conduits! Jean’s prime—”

“We can’t make any assumptions until we know more about what’s going on.”

Dad’s hands came up to run through his hair, and I could hear him sigh deeply. “So then what do we do?”

“I could run a microarray on her, see if it’s genetic. I’d want Brent’s as a base sample too.”

“And if it’s not that?” Dad demanded.

Dr. Sims hesitated for a moment. “I…know someone that could help us,” he began. “Someone that’s seen this stuff in action. Might have some connections, too. But…” he drew off. “You’re not gonna like it.”

The shadow of Dad’s head cocked to the side in curiosity, and they were silent for a full ten seconds before Dad’s head snapped straight again and he said, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Del, listen—”

“Not happening. Do you not remember last time?”

“That was almost eighteen years ago—”

“And it hasn’t been long enough! You weren’t there, man. He’s weird! I got this speech that didn’t make sense and he — the fucker wouldn’t even meet me after everything—”

“You’re still holding on to that?”

“He’s not even a Conduit!” Dad hissed on a whisper that was bordering a regular voice. The closest he could get to yelling. “He has no business being involved is this—”

“He is the closest we will ever get to talking to Cole MacGrath,” Dr. Sims interrupted. His silhouette raised the tube and shook it at Dad slightly. “You wanna know what this is? You wanna help Jean? He’s the only one that can help. Him, or the government — and you and I both know how that would go.”

Dad’s hands came up, and while I couldn’t really tell what he was doing, I knew he was probably pressing his palms into his eyes like he always did when he was frustrated. But then his head raised and looked my way, and my breath froze. Did he know I was eavesdropping?

No, he didn’t. Looking towards where I was seemed to be the last cannonball that broke down the wall of his objection, because he sighed, entirely complicit and absolutely unwillingly, “Fine. Okay. How do we get in contact with him? I haven’t talked to him since that shit with Wolfe,”

“We’ve got a system. He likes to stay off the radar, but he’s not too hard to find.” Dr. Sims tucked the tube away in his pocket, saying “Take out your phone,” while doing so.

Dad did, the click of him unlocking it echoing off of the sterile walls. “Okay, now what?”

Dr. Sims held out his hand, and that twinkling sound that always accompanied his power came back. It wasn’t like Dad’s; Dad’s had the underlying tone of TV static, where Dr. Sims’ almost sounded like what I imagined wizard magic would sound like. Their side of the curtain lit up, making me squint in discomfort at the sudden light change, and by the time the sound ended and the brightness dimmed, Dad was in the middle of cursing. “Eugene — fuck — I didn’t mean now—”

“I can only catch his signal when I concentrate on it,” Dr. Sims shrugged. “Otherwise it’s scrambled.”

“Yeah, okay, but I’d have liked to have slept before dealing with him,” Dad grumbled, the hand holding his phone coming up to his ear. I could barely hear the ringing that came from the receiver; it sang once, twice, and then was picked up, Dad sighing as the voice on the other side answered.

“Zeke Dunbar?” Dad asked. “This is Delsin Rowe.” His body turned slightly in place so he could look where he knew I was, a final reminder of why he needed to call. “I need your help.”

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous #delsin rowe #Eugene Sims #Fetch Walker #Sucker Punch Productions #I'm trying to add things to hide the other tags #Do not read any more of these tags for spoiler reasons #Finally. FINALLY. I GET TO TAG THIS NEXT ONE!!!#Zeke Dunbar #'oh cool a second son fic--' SIKE MOTHERFUCKERS THIS IS A ZEKE DUNBAR FANFICTION (/s)#ZEKE! ZEKE! ZEKE! ZEKE!#This is my PSA: catch up on your inFAMOUS 1 and inFAMOUS 2 lore. We're going back to our roots #I am collecting original characters like Pokemon. Am I possibly doing too much? yeah. Will it stop me? No

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