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happy74827 · 3 months

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The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

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TPC: Jihoon’s conundrum with double ds as DD

Series

Pairing: jihoon x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.8k

tags: thicc!reader, mentions of alcohol and being under the influence, Jihoon with rings, reader wearing a skirt and bra, car sex, oral fixation, finger sucking, fingering, body worship, oral (reader giving), breast play, unprotected sex, cream pie, breed kink

Summary: Designated Driver? Jihoon is DD for the night but gets a little too distracted with a pair of DDs.

author note: the series is still alive i swear

Tag list: @iwouldbangchan @1uvlywon @just-here-to-read-01 @candidupped @minnie-mouser22 @shiningstar-byulxx @90s-belladonna @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @lovelyhan @gibbysupremeacyisreal @seokgyuu

Jihoon doesn’t get why he’s invited out to these parties if he doesn’t drink. He starts to understand why after attending so many and taking on the tasks of driving the messy drunks back home at the end of the night. It wasn’t a desirable role to take on but was better than being forced to drink every time he was out. Besides he’s dealt with worse than a bunch of man-children calling after them when their tummy starts hurting.

Tonight, however, was thought to be like any other weekend—he’d eat the party snacks, get his fill of Coke zeros, and eventually drag some usually able-bodied grown adults to his car and take them home—but no other weekend had you. You are the mystery anomaly he can’t keep his eyes off of. He’s gone to tens of hundreds of parties but he’s never met you, someone so enticingly captivating that it’s torture seeing you saunter the seductive way you do, especially towards him. And somehow here you are, falling right in his lap. Metaphorically, of course.

“We’re the only sober ones here, huh?”

You grin back at him with the light of a million stars and he could not see himself in any other world where he wouldn’t smile back.

“Looks like it. I’m driving tonight, so better off I stay sober before rolling my friends out of here.”

You giggle at the truth in his words. “Sorry. I just can't handle alcohol all that well. Plus it’s more fun being somewhat conscious of these kinds of things. See how much of a mess everyone else is.”

“That is one upside. I agree.” He notices the cup in your hand, pondering what could be inside. “What are you drinking in that case?”

“Coke Zero,” you answer, lifting up your red solo.

“Oh,” he mimics you, “me too.”

You grin just a smidge harder and butterflies erupt in Jihoon’s stomach. “Sounds like we have great taste.”

“We definitely do.”

He doesn’t get why you’re talking to him, not that he’s complaining, but he’s just hoping he’s not coming off dry in their conversation. He has a habit of doing that. If you feel that way, it didn’t show. You even seem to be laughing, leaning into him a little heavier than he expected you to. That’s a good sign, he thinks.

He already knew this when he saw you, but he finds you cute, really cute. Like ‘I want to aggressively bite into your round cheeks’ cute or ‘I can listen to you talk the rest of his day’ cute.

But he also couldn’t help but find you just as sexy. Perhaps because the idea of sex couldn’t possibly dawn harder on the man than this moment you’re in front of him.

Because right now, you’re touching his arm—nails railing over his pale skin erupting in goosebumps under your hot trail—while your eyes dip in dark interest. Your teeth noticeably pierce your bottom lip, and Jihoon’s breath hitches, wondering if they feel as soft and supple as they appear. To make matters worse, your assets hardly hidden in a thinly veiled fitted shirt only appear more significant as you peer at him closer, arms at either side, and cleavage with a valley so deep he imagined himself suffocating between them with a smile on his face.

He is completely sober but he couldn’t feel more drunk at the sight of you.

“Should we…find somewhere more private?”

Jihoon’s eyes doubled in size, index pointing back at himself as if wanting to reconfirm. When you nod back at him, his heart pounds just a little faster while his pants feel a little tighter. “W-Where would we find privacy?”

“You brought your car, right?”

The last thing Jihoon expected was to get lucky tonight, yet here he is. Somehow, in a matter of barely an hour, someone as ethereal as you is on his lap, grinding against the heat of his thighs like it’s the goddamn rodeo and you don’t mind the boner straining in his pants beneath you. Your lips taste like the sweetest candy, tongue occasionally clashing as you press into him deeper, while the curve of your abdomen fits the hollow of his. His name—information you had only learned a not that long ago—falls out naturally from your lips, fanning his cheeks with strawberry red.

Your body, like water, fills him with a warmth that embraces him at all sides. Your flesh spills between his fingers and he can’t help but ball them into his fists, worshiping every full inch. Your curves are lively, perfect to embrace as their warmth blisters the skin it touches. Your thighs are thick and warm, perfect to hug around his waist and lock him in place. And your tits are big and plush, perfect to bury his face in to steal his breath and life. Whimpers of want escape him, his hands are already crawling up toward your chest before asking, “Can I put your tits in my mouth, please?”

Your eyes flutter excitedly, arousal churning in your stomach, already seeping past your thighs and soaking the plain fabric of your underwear. “Y-you don’t even have to ask.”

Jihoon’s hands roam over the map of your vessel, heavy-handedly filling out his palms with the fullness of your chest as you shrug off the sleeves of your top. Languidly, he pulls down the straps of your bra, watching how your warm flesh spills over and out of padded underwear like liquid gold. Your skin is hot, hotter than what he felt through your shirt, and instinctively he presses himself closer to you with parted lips that he wets with his tongue.

Jihoon hasn’t even done anything but your tight peaks stare back at him like another pair of eyes, luring him with their perky buds before they enter his mouth. You feel his teeth graze its sensitivity before his moist lips wrap around the skin, sucking and tugging towards him addictively. His moans vibrate against you and the grind of his lap against your groin drives you absolutely up a wall.

“So…soft…” he whispers so sweetly, making your eyes anchor back at him to see him pressing his cheeks against your chest as his tongue runs circles around your nipples. His bottom canines tickle your skin before biting, the slight pain rippling shivers up your spine. It is almost endearing how gentle, yet starving, he looks. Yet, the emotions running through you seeing him was anything but wholesome.

You press your lips, releasing a muted moan as your fingers curl through his hair from the back of his head. His tendrils pushed off from his forehead, and you kiss his temple and caress the smooth curves of his face. His name comes out of you more and more, becoming louder as he copies and pastes his actions to the other breast, pinching and massaging the one he left.

“Your mouth feels so good…”

You drift off in relaxed lust, finding it therapeutic how his touch is so sweet and gentle, but you are reminded of such carnal lust when he makes himself known by digging his hips into yours. He prods you like pure temptation, your throbbing pussy weak against his presence. You slip your hand between your bodies, kneading him under your palm, and a high pitch whine is let out from the cock’s owner. He says your name deliciously, your skin drenched from his spit. “Y-you’ll make me cum. And I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

A hand lets go from your breast as it crawls under your skirt and pushes aside your underwear to slide through your wet folds. “I need to make you cum first.” You move against his hand, whining for more as he explores you, and realize how damn good he is at multitasking. Your body stiffens in needy, compulsively twitching back at him as he runs through you, hand on your breast and clutching them precious gems.

“That’s so good, Jihoon…”

You could feel yourself shaking like everything he does was practiced for you and only you. You clench around his digits, hands firmly pressed on his shoulders.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans out. His obscene speech is enough to make you cum alone. You choke on your drool, resting your forehead against his as his fingers curl into you, hooking in you, as his grunts and thrusts get only more sporadic and desperate in pleasing you. “Wanna make you feel good, make you cum. Make you cum because of me.”

His eagerness is only more of a turn-on. The coolness of the rings around his fingers that you only notice now makes contact with your moisture, rubbing your walls unnaturally but making you wet all the same. You rock into the cool steel, your arousal oozing out of him like a geyser. You know he feels what he does to you, the greed of his body on yours only festers, awaiting more than just his fingers. But Jihoon had plans of his own.

“Perfect tits and a perfect pussy? I didn’t know where to put my dick between first.”

“Anywhere.” You bunch your skirt together with your other clothes around your waist, drowning your body in fabric. “Use me however you like.”

He expels a breath of relief as he lifts up your body and plants your back against the dash. He holds you still, single-handedly taking his pants down and kicking them off and under the passenger seat. His cock—so ridged and perfectly aesthetic with the precum leaking from the tip—stands tall as his knees are planted on the seat. Lifting up his pelvis, he slides his length between your tits. He spits, aiming for his shaft, in turn splattering on your chest, and you can’t help but coil in raw ache. “You see what you do to me? How hard you make me?”

You moan feeling him press your breasts together, thrusting between your valley. The tip of his cock centimeters away from your mouth, your tongue farts towards it, tasting the salty precum. Jihoon groans at the sight, fucking your tits becoming more mesmerizing than his mind could ever muster. The moment your lips wrap around the tip, he feels as if he could cry, gritting his teeth before he licking his lips, “You like that? My cock fucking your tits like this?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer and instead spits again, the lube of his salvia heats up your skin. “Give me your dirty little fingers.”

Your fingers tingle from the wet warmth of his oral, feeling him shove your fingers deeper in his mouth as he fucks your tits faster. His groans are majestic. One hand squeezes your tits tight together as a hand wraps around your wrist and pushes you knuckles deep. He’s horny, tomato red, moaning how much of a mess you make him, how his cock is almost exploding at the sight of you, how much he wants to fuck you rough and deep, and how much he wants to spell his name on your entire body with his cum. He has quickly grown that obsessed with you.

So you don’t expect it when it pulls away before your cock makes that dream a reality, stealing the opportunity for you to milk him dry with your tits alone.

“I don’t have a condom but I’m clean.” He admits quietly, panting.

You nod back at him gingerly. “I am too, and I’m protected, so don't be scared of cumming in me. I prefer it if you do.”

He understands you loud and clear, pulling you by your hair before he’s kissing you. “Sit on my cock then.”

Every inch gets swallowed by your sopping pussy, stretching around his girth before you bounce his lap and the sound of your bare ass slapping his skin like a symphony. He grips your bare thighs with so much need. The plush of your walls closes around him in bliss as you use him, allowing him to bury himself inside you, coating every inch of his cock in your sweet liquid ardor.

“You’re drenching my thighs, beautiful, fuck.”

You lean into him, tits hugging the curvature of his face like cushion. So soft, so lush. You’re made of cloud but reek of pure sin. Jihoon never knew such a combination of existing, and now he’ll never know anything else like it. “Can’t help…it…fuck…”

“Your pussy is so good for me…so wet…so ready for me, god…ride me. Fuck.”

His hips lifted into you, thrusting as your ass clashes his lap like cymbals. Your eyes roll back, taking in the rhythm, his hands preoccupied with your tits. He thrusts in you at the same pace he did with your tits, mind-numbingly animal, moaning against your skin. Your nails dig into his firm back, saying his name as arousal overtakes you, and your climax takes claim on you. You mousely announce its arrival, the contracting of your hips making your words even clearer.

Jihoon takes your sides, fisting balls in your body before accelerating. “Take my cock like that…yes…fuck, like that. I want to cum so deep in you.”

Even from the sensitivity, your mind could be more awake. “Mmm, breed me, please…I want to be full of your cum please…cum in me please…”

“Yes like that…I’ll breed you…every inch of you will be filled with my cum. I promise…”

Every slam, every clench, every whine. He fucks you so long and deep, you’re sure there’s a Jihoon cock shaped hole inside you, fulfilling his every desire, his every lewd thought, and you come undone again and again. You fall apart the way Jihoon has made you come together, your body pressed against his, only now writhing with your sweat-misted body pressed against his strong reliable torso. His body follows after like clockwork, feeling his hot thick load fill you past the brim and drip down his legs.

He clutches you, the bounce of his hips slowly faltering as he empties out into you. His sigh fans on the most skin of your shoulder. He kisses your neck tenderly, smiling a smile you don’t see but can absolutely feel. “I never came that—nngh—hard like that.”

“Really?” you shy ask full of doubt.

“Yeah. I haven’t.”

The caress of his hand on your back makes your tired body virbrate and the sensitivity of your pussy once again throbbing in need. “Well, how about one more? Want to fuck your cum back inside me?”

He lightly chuckles. He brings your face parallel to his to admire it, his hand coming over the curve of your face, and thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Yeah. And maybe I can take you home, get you cleaned up, make you a mess for me all over again?”

“What about your friends?”

He simply shrugs. “They’ll survive one night without me.”

#svthub #woozi smut #Jihoon smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #lee Jihoon smut #lee Jihoon #seventeen woozi #woozi #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #woozi x reader #woozi x y/n #woozi x you #lee jihoon x you #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x y/n

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v3nusxsky · 7 months

Note

i’m not 100% sure your requests are open or if you’ve done this before but i’ve read some of your leonora lesso fics and i’m in love

i’m was wondering whether you could maybe right a little!lesso x caregiver!reader. they’re both teachers, maybe r is an ever

but tbh maybe just some hurt comfort <3

The Little Lion

*Authors note~ ahh little Leo and Agere is my life, may be horrid I am currently in a lecture for behaviour with a massive headache but I’m determined to catch up on writing fics*

Trigger warnings~ Agere little Leonora, cg y/n first time regression star struck Leonora

Prompt~see ask^^^

Being the Dean Of Evil wasn’t ever Leonora’s plans but it’s where she ended up and appeared to be amazing at her job. But was she evil? Or maybe just hurt deep down? The world would never know the pain she’d been through and just how she dealt with her pain. While she held her scary exterior inside lay a soft gooey core that is ever so fragile and to be protected at all costs.

Being evil for so long tends to drain the red head, and with her Never students acting up more, it was worse than ever before. No one knew of the tentative relationship you and Lesso had began, but the tension between you both was simply too hard to ignore and one night with a lot of alcohol had confession’s of truth spilling from you both. Agreeing to try this out but of course no one could know, not until you both knew it would work of course.

That was a couple of months ago and things had been going rather well. You being an Ever made things slightly harder but both of you worked to find ways to meet in secrecy and have subtle changes in your daily life’s when it came to communication. That’s why it wasn’t uncommon for you to sneak into the Deans room after hours. There would be no students to catch you and should a member of staff see you, then you had a well rehearsed reason to be there.

Entering her room tonight felt different but you couldn’t put you finger on the reason why. With a quick scan of the room you could see nothing was out of its place however, Leonora was no where to be found which is odd. Normally she’s waiting with a signature look that’s just for you as her eyes room your body just drinking in your beauty.

“Nora?” You murmured in a hope she would appear but all that greeted you was silence. Moving forward into her chamber you made your way to her sleeping area. “Nora, darling?” You mumbled before knocking and pushing the heavy oak door open, never in a million years would you have expected the sight in front of you.

In the bed, Leonora was dressed in fussy orange socks with a lion onesie, colouring some pages that looked to be animal prints. Clearly she was in her own little world and you almost felt bad for intruding. Almost. The way she was currently looking at you jade you feel you were more needed than ever before. Being an ever you knew exactly what was going on here.

“Hi darling, watcha got there?” You whispered to her before settling on the edge of her bed. But Leonora said nothing just staring at you with her mouth agape like she’d seen a unicorn or something equally as magical. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her star struck expression, “close your mouth darling, you’ll be catching flys in a minute.”

“Princess” the red head stated still absolutely entranced by you. “You think I’m a princess darling?” You happily fed into her statement hoping to gain her trust. “Pretty” was slurred around the woman’s thumb that had made its way between her lips. It was so obvious what was happening here. With a gasp you responded, “well thank you little darling. I think you’re pretty too.”

Silence fell over the room again, you didn’t mind of course, clearly Leonora needed this and now wasn’t the time to talk about what this was, so you settled for giving her whatever she needed from you in this moment. “Raw!” Lesso growled as she continued to scribble in a pen that could honestly rival the woman’s hair colour. “Such a cute little lion” you murmured to her causing her to smile, not smirk but smile at you and blush. Leonora Lesso doesn’t blush… but your little lion here seemed to be the opposite.

It wasn’t long before Leonora had shoved a pen at you and instructed that you colour in certain areas, “ands no out of lines!” She firmly reprimanded after you went ever so slightly went over the lines. “I’m so sorry little cub” you feigned a pout.

“Im not use to sharing I sorry, I fix it then pretty princess happy and loves Leo lion!” A childish slur causing words to blur together and just sounding adorable. “Thank you little cub, I still love you little lion, how could I not with this cute mane on your head hmm?” You whispered before ruffling the fake mane on the hood of the lion onesie.

It wasn’t long after that small interaction you could see her little balled up fists rubbing at her eyes, a clear indication that it was in fact past midnight. “Little lion, aren’t you getting sleepy yet?” You attempted not knowing how to bring this up with her. But luckily she nodded and crawled straight into your lap, her head nestled into your neck and a hand resting above your heart. It was clear you weren’t going anywhere tonight but opted to soothe Leonora to sleep so you could move the woman without disturbing her. Although the little version of Lesso was okay with you acting like a caregiver that didn’t mean Leonora was too. Your hand gently rubbed soothing circles on her back as you swayed your legs ever so slightly in hopes to comfort her. Just when you thought she’d drifted off you caught her sleepy mumble off, “thank you for looking after me princess.”

Word count ~ 1023

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso x you #little lesso #l!title Leonora #sfgae Agere #dean of evil #smol leonora #soft Leonora

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lapis-lights · 1 year

Text

Chapter 01 | Choke Yourself to Sleep

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Choke by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Content Warnings: Heavy Injuries, Enemies Phase, High Tensions, Two Emotionally Constipated Characters, They Get Better Towards The End

Word Count: 11k

Author's Notes: First chapter of the Falling From Grace series! I'm excited for you guys to see what's coming up :DDDD

I wanted a good ol' fashioned enemies to lovers that dealt with two characters who actually have a dislike for each other and honestly, the longer I outlined the events I wanted to happen and estimated the word count, the more I was like "Oh shit this needs to be like a SERIES". So here we are at chapter 1. Lmk what you guys think in the comments if you'd like! My ask box is also open if you'd like to send in something through there too ^^

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: Having freshly escaped from an elaborately disguised company, you show up on the doorstep of your enemy's dingy motel room. Tensions roll high as you try to recuperate all while trying not to kill each other until a secret lets loose and his perception of you shatters into a million pieces.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"Now shut your dirty mouth. If I could burn this town, I wouldn't hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die.

And that would be just fine, and what a lovely time that it would surely be. So bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The air is freezing, but your body feels like it's on fire.

In a cruel juxtaposition to the chilly weather and violent wind that nipped at your skin, pain is all you know, licking flames up from a twisted ankle and into your weary muscles. Your shoulder burns, tugged on by the weapons and equipment that weigh you down but are vital for survival nonetheless. One of your joints is probably dislocated and would need an amputation or something drastic with your luck.

You’re sure you must look a sight, streaked with dirt and oozing blood from more than one place on your body. The bruises you’ve been so graciously granted are probably turning purple by now, and you wince knowing that this wouldn’t be something you could try and joke your way out of at a hospital.

Hence, your second, more unfortunate, option.

You’ve been walking all night since you escaped after weighing the options in your mind. Actually, it’s less walking and more hobbling as fast as you can.

The trees are bare all around you, bordering a stretch of a lonely dirt road that nobody has driven through since you set foot on it. Not even given the chance to hitchhike, you consider that just laying down and dying alone of starvation might be the easier option.

Every part of you hurts, and you think that you might die anyway from your wounds. Your breaths have become shallow and hitched, your body sore from the excruciating limits you've been pushing it to. However, that all didn't matter when it came to survival. You've lived through worse before–surely something like this couldn't kill you.

The bare forest breaks and you almost cry at the sight of your destination.

It’s a rugged little motel hidden away in the recesses of the forest, often providing shelter to hunters who were taking advantage of the seasons. However, the person you're looking for is not a hunter.

Not of animals, at least.

It’s the kind of motel that doesn’t have any stories and the rooms are all lined up along one long stretch of building bordered by rotting wooden rails. It’s not a sight to behold, but it was somewhere safe to some capacity. Either you’d die here or live to see another day.

You trip up the wooden steps, muffling a cry of pain into your palm before counting down the rooms and finding the one you need. Your knock probably sounds more like a bang and you know that this is probably the stupidest plan you’ve ever had yet. Maybe you had the right idea when you were considering just dying on the side of the road like an unfortunate piece of roadkill.

However, much to your surprise, the door swings open, and tired blue eyes meet yours.

"(Y/n)?" your name rolls off his tongue like venom being spat out. "What the fuck?"

He sounds good–really good–so you must be incredibly delirious. Whether it's from the blood loss, the adrenaline, or the sleep deprivation is a toss in the air.

"Hey," you manage a shaky smile and collapse.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When you come to, the first thing you hear is the creak of old wood, presumably from the aged floorboards.

You're sure this motel doesn't have the funding to renovate often, judging by the run-down state it was in when you first arrived. Already, you feel better physically than the last time you had been conscious–but you were still incredibly sore–though the same couldn’t be said mentally. If you weren’t so bent on staying alive, you’d roll over and sleep yourself to death.

Roughly blinking open your eyes faintly, you’re met with an old popcorn ceiling that has more than one questionable stain on it. Gross.

“You know,” a voice intrudes the confused fog of your brain as your thoughts abruptly try and catch up, “if you’re trying to kill someone, showing up half-dead on their doorstep isn’t really the way to go.”

Panic blossoms in your chest as you open your eyes all the way, fully wide awake now. You tug your body upward and a jolt of pain spreads through your body as you take in the dusty motel room you’ve cursed yourself to be trapped in. You've been laid down on an old couch whose covering was printed with the abhorrent floral pattern that's only found in ancient grandmother households and the fabric scratches uncomfortably on your sensitive skin.

It’s not hard to find the source of the voice.

Leon's already watching you from a chair positioned on the other side of the room at a small desk, fringe falling over his eye as his handgun is securely held. You have no doubt that the safety is probably already off.

"You have five minutes," he demands, not kidding around like when you've traded playground insults. "I want an explanation."

"Fair enough," you wince.

You and Leon have a rocky history of going for each other’s throats on field missions and nearly killing each other over a grudge that began years ago. He works in the D.S.O., an infamous division in the US government for only the best and most elite members of the agency. Leon Kennedy, revered for his survival in Raccoon City and preceding successful missions afterward, is one of–if not the–best of the best.

You’d been on contract with a company that was researching bioweapons independently and investigating Umbrella through rather illegal matters. The J.I.E., or Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists, had dedicated their purpose to bringing people like those who advocated for Umbrella to be rightfully exposed. Your involvement with the company was surprisingly unintentional where you’d been admitted as an intern for work experience before they offered you training for fieldwork and higher pay.

Regrettably, you had agreed.

Oftentimes, you’d be dispatched to the same locations that the government was looking into. It was only a matter of time before your stealth mission failed and you were pitted face-to-face with Leon.

Your first encounter was rough, as your only objective was to escape alive. It was understandable why he was considered the best agent as his aim was spot on, his attacks swift and incredibly calculated. You managed to leave with a hair’s breadth away from death.

Every preceding time you met with him, it began an all-out battle that staved mostly off of that grudge–you wanting revenge for him nearly ending your life and for him, wanting to patch up his bruised ego from letting an easy target slip through his fingers.

It was a miracle Leon didn’t just shoot you in the head when you went unconscious, though he probably only kept you alive for the potential intel you could provide.

“There was a conflict of interest is all,” you say vaguely, and he’s obviously unsatisfied with your response. “There’s not much more to it.”

“The J.I.E. finally dump your ass?”

“I left, thank you very much.”

"Bullshit," Leon snaps. "You have three minutes left to tell me why you're really here."

"I can't visit my favorite archenemy?" You huff, then wince when a new sharp pain blossoms in your shoulder and races down your arm before soothing to a burn. "Son of a bitch."

Leon exaggerates a snicker and you want to beat the sarcastic smile off his stupid expression. "Your dumbass managed to dislocate your shoulder and twist your ankle. Hope you weren't planning on going into any Olympic sports."

"My dreams are crushed," you deadpan. "Might as well put me down like a racehorse with a broken leg."

"I almost did." His gaze darkens and then fixates on you again. "Speaking of which?"

You go silent, staring back at him with the blankest expression you can muster. All he was trying to do was get under your skin to get whatever answers he wanted from you before ending your life, burying you in the woods, and checking out of the motel with a cute little innocent smile. Leon's not the type to commit a felony without a valid reason, but your little schoolyard rivalry was probably a good enough purpose for him.

You were going to get out of here alive somehow. You just didn't have a coherent plan for it yet. You'd rather die than admit to Leon of all people what really happened at the J.I.E. before you had excused yourself–though, excused was an extreme understatement.

He probably senses that you weren't going to answer his questions before huffing and standing. His hands work roughly on his signature handgun, and it clicks sharply in the air as he disappears around a corner. You wouldn't be too surprised if he re-appeared with a loaded magnum ready to play bad cop interrogating you.

At this rate, you'd accept him blowing your brains out.

The sudden sound of rushing faucet water running reaches your ears and it jars you enough out of your tense stupor. Silently, you wonder what in the world he could be doing. Maybe Leon needed a refresher before committing murder right in the middle of his motel room, though you suspect that he's probably not the best at cleaning up a crime scene. Would he be fully pardoned if he was found guilty?

Actually, thinking about it, he could come up with a good enough cover story as to why a dead body was hidden under his floorboards. That was some Edgar Allen Poe shit.

Footsteps have you looking back up to see him with a plastic cup of water in one hand and something held securely in his other that you couldn't see. Leon places the cup of water on the end table that stands right by the armrest of the couch you're leaning against.

Something clinks onto the wooden surface and you glance over to find two white pills sitting innocently next to the cup.

You raise an eyebrow at him as he retreats, sitting on a creaking bed whilst grabbing a rifle to start polishing as if you weren't someone who's tried to kill him on multiple occasions.

"Cyanide?" You guess, poking at one of the pills and losing your appetite more than you already had. "You're getting lazy, Kennedy."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs dismissively. You didn't know it was possible for him to piss you off more than he already has. "It's painkillers."

"You should take them then since you're being such a pain in the-"

"I really don't care if you die on the couch," he interrupts and sends a dangerous glare your way. "I don't want to hear anything from you unless it's about why you're here. Capiche?"

You search his gaze trying to find any fault in his words, yet come up with none. A quiet sense of annoyance and rage boils in your chest as you slump down into the cushions of the couch. "Aye aye, cap'n."

He hums non-committedly before remarking mindlessly, "Good girl."

You wish he would step on a landmine.

Because you have nothing better to do, you snatch up the pills and choke them down with the water. Truthfully, you didn't realize how parched you were until the touch of liquid hit your dried-out throat, and you hope the bastard isn't gaining any satisfaction from your reluctant compliance.

You note that there's dried blood still on your clothes and only the obvious wounds that were exposed have been cleaned up. It was some sort of cold comfort knowing that he didn't try anything shady while you were knocked out.

As you settle into the couch again and close your eyes, you realize one thing before sleep reclaims you.

Your shoulder definitely didn't feel dislocated nor did it step over the intense soreness that came after the initial painful sting the entire time you'd been awake. Surely Leon didn't set it back once he noticed, right?

He wouldn't.

The painkillers were probably the farthest his kindness reached with you. He probably thought it was dishonorable to kill you when you were injured or something stupid. He'd want a fight before getting the satisfaction of having your blood smeared all over his hands.

That must be it. It had to be.

You're conflicted as one excuse gets blocked by another, but none of it can change the fact that you hate him. When you get out of here, you'd definitely owe him a favor on your end, but after that, you'd go right back to your old ways trying to get the edge on each other on sight.

As you fall asleep, you decide that nothing will change in the end. You'll make sure of it.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Images dance behind your eyelids, violent in every way you could think of.

It's filled with viruses and experiments and monsters larger than life. You see people, you can hear them screaming in anguish and immense pain. Small children cling to your legs, sobbing and crying for their parents and for you to do something to help. You don't even get the chance to formulate a plan before they're harshly turned into nothing but rotting flesh and guttural sounds being pulled from their dead throats.

You reach out desperately for them but they disappear in wisps from your fingertips. A sharp stab pierces your neck and you cry out, struggling against the undead that has latched its teeth into the supple muscle that lies in the junction at the base of your neck that slopes into your shoulder. Managing to gain momentum, you grasp it by the plaid shirt it was wearing and flip it over your shoulder. It slams to the invisible ground with a shriek.

The grip it had on you dissipates with the body of the undead into the black void, but the blood that flows from the wound in rivers is enough to make you lightheaded immediately. Before you can dwell on this fact too long, an invisible force pushes you to the ground, holding you down even as you aimlessly struggle as much as you can. It's a futile effort.

There's the sound of chains, of a knife being sharpened right before searing white-hot pain floods your backside.

A sound that couldn't even be classified as a scream tears from your throat. It's pain, it's burning alive, it's being bitten by a million fire ants at once, it's familiar-

You wake with a gasp, tears in your eyes and sweating as Leon immediately backs away from your reactive–and now very conscious– state.

It takes a moment for you to get your bearings and to realize where you are.

You're not in a lab or an arena or even in another virus-infected city–just a crappy motel in the middle of nowhere stuck with the last person you ever wanted to associate yourself with. Upon getting this fact straight, you force yourself to relax as you dry your face and stubbornly refuse to look at Leon who simply watches carefully for any other possible extremity you might commit.

You can feel the question on the tip of his tongue, just barely managing to restrain himself from inquiring about what the fuck just happened. You don't even know what time it is. You don’t think you really care to find out right now.

"Do you have night terrors often?" He asks but there's no care behind the question. You know all he wants is more information regarding you and what the J.I.E. was doing.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The response flies from your lips sharply, and you don't even bother to try to have the decency to pretend to be apologetic. Really, you don't feel like dealing with his bullshit after you've just woken up.

"Well, excuse me, princess," Leon huffs, shaking his head frustratedly as he recedes. "Here I am letting you bloody up my couch and you can't even let me know if frequent nightmares are another thing I should be concerned about."

"I'm fine," you insist as he brings out another cup of water and more painkillers just like he'd done the first time you woke up. This time, you take them without hesitation and wait for a minute to see if they'd kill you as swiftly as a poison pill would. Once you're in the clear, you ask, "What do you mean by 'another thing' you should be concerned about?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest without getting murdered," he frowns, sitting at the desk and folding his arms. "You know, I would've loved a vacation that didn't get interrupted again but you just had to show up, didn't you?"

"Interesting spot to vacation out to," you raise an eyebrow. "Any reason why?"

"Nice try. You'll have to be more subtle."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

"People say that about wallflowers trying to hook up with captains of football teams," Leon scoffs. "Not about spies trying to gather information on the opposing side."

For all you care, he could go die in a hole. You have more important things to worry about–namely your injuries and how fast you could recuperate from them so you could get out of here. Leon was decent enough to tell you that you had a twisted ankle and a dislocated shoulder he potentially set back into place, but there are wounds that he didn't even know about.

Along your upper back had been a particularly nasty gash, but it wasn't anything you weren't used to. You were more so concerned with the bullet grazes you'd caught while escaping the factory you'd been trapped in. J.I.E sports multiple talented sharpshooters so you'd consider yourself lucky to have been able to get out without a piece of metal lodged into your leg.

The big bad that they'd sent after you did more of a number on you than any group with some lousy firearms could possibly do. The memory causes you to wince.

“Do you have a first aid kit or something?” you ask, moving to get up and ignoring the wave of pain that crashes into you violently, it nearly leaves you breathless.

“Whoa, hey–wait,” Leon immediately gets up to try and push you back down. You smack his hand away stubbornly. “Alright, fuck you too, then.”

“I need to get the injuries on my back and I’d prefer doing it on my own,” you ignore him, standing shakily and almost stumbling upon the first step. “Also I probably stink so I hope you don’t mind if I use your cheap motel shower.”

“You’re not going to get far trying to do it by yourself,” Leon protests, and irritation pricks your skin.

“I’ve made it this far on my own. I can do it.”

You know your unmoving insistence isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with because the trait is reflected right back at him. Too many times were you caught in crossfires trying to get at each other despite the obvious obstacles and the inconvenience of it all. Usually, Leon can keep his composure on the battlefield, juggling carrying out his assigned mission and preventing you from completing yours, however, there are times you were able to push him over the edge and gain the advantage.

His jaw tenses as he considers you. It’s glaringly obvious you’re not as okay as you’re trying to pass off, but in all seriousness, you need to tend to yourself. You both knew that you’d never trust him in such a vulnerable environment, and even less so showing him exactly where all your current weak spots were. The only option left really was to let you do your best while he played standby.

“At least let me help you to the bathroom,” he relents finally. “If you’re going to slip and die, do it where I can’t see.”

Figuring that this is the best you were going to get with Leon, you accept the hand he outstretched and allow your weight to be shared with him. Because of his profession and the fit form he maintained, you’re sure that it was no issue for him.

Though, it didn’t help that you were completely disgusted upon having to have him in such close proximity. Actually, you think this is the first time the two of you have interacted like this that wasn’t in a violent way.

You half-expect him to dump you onto the bathroom floor, yet he allows you enough time to grip onto the doorframe and limp inside yourself.

“Kit is under the sink,” Leon says, turning away and wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Don’t die."

The door closes and you finally breathe out in relief at being alone.

Your reflection stares back at you in the bathroom mirror and you know you've definitely seen better days. Shadows hang beneath your eyes, probably the only purple on your body that wasn't a result of a blossoming bruise, and your hair was full of filth you didn't even want to get into. Really, the past few days haven't been the most successful.

You take a deep breath and shuffle your shirt off the best you can with one arm.

The shoulder that had been dislocated has dulled itself down into a mild burn instead of flooding with soreness with every waking moment as it had been before. Whatever painkillers Leon had gotten his hands on, they were hella fucking good since you'd only taken four so far–definitely better than the OTC pills you usually took periodically after missions. Your ankle fares better than it had been as well, but putting any weight on it was a no-go.

Jesus Christ, you hated this.

As you throw your dirtied shirt to the floor and start shimmying your pants down your thighs, you think resentfully about your weakened state. For fuck's sake, you were supposed to be stronger than this–you were supposed to be theoretically invincible because being anything less meant you weren’t good enough.

Really, being at Leon's was your own fault seeing as you'd hobbled here after weighing the equally horrible options before picking the lesser of the two evils, and while it wasn't at the forefront of your mind and definitely not your biggest concern at the moment, it still wasn't pleasant. That he even took you in was a miracle in itself and you intend to milk as much hospitality as you can get from him before leaving.

Finally, you wrench your shirt off and turn to see your backside in the mirror. You find that the gash on your upper back is bad and you wince at the state of it. It extends diagonally from your deltoid muscle downward to your trapezius, but what lacks in length is made up for by the alarming width of it.

You're definitely no looker with scar tissue knotting up your flesh and making rough patches of skin that surely would be anything but soft to the touch, but this has gotta be one of the worst ones. You'll live, of course, but it's nothing you'd be proudly parading around.

Noted: B.O.W.s tend to cut a little deep when they're attacking.

You start up the shower, deciding that you should start washing away the grime and dirt before tackling the scratches that have started to prick blood again.

The warm water is welcome, though it provides little comfort as the droplets sting the opened wounds. It's a relief to finally be able to feel some semblance of cleanliness as you poke around for the motel-provided shampoo, conditioner, and bar of soap. Dirt, blood, and gunpowder wash down the drain and you sigh in contentment, letting your mind wander as you work on washing yourself without putting strain on your shoulder and ankle.

Your need for shelter vastly eclipses the disdain you have for Leon, but you do have to admit that this was incredibly kind of him. His treatment of you right now is wildly different from practically all your other encounters where it's nothing but bullets, blood, and insults hurled at each other intended to hurt. You're used to the aggressive Leon who scowls every time he sees you, but definitely not this Leon who matches your witty comments and gives you painkillers without question every time you wake up.

It feels wrong.

It feels like at any moment, the barrel of a gun is going to be held to your temple as he forces his desired answers out of you. Leon never struck you as the type of person to be like that, which gives you somewhat of a relief, but it still puts you on edge. He's gotta have some ulterior motive for keeping you alive. The fact that you don't know why is the most concerning part.

Maybe you had answers of your own you needed to search for.

Once you had gotten yourself to a place that felt like tiny bugs weren't crawling all over your skin and the water had begun to clear after vigorously washing your hair over and over, you finally shut off the water and brace yourself to take care of your wounds. It’d be much easier now that you were free of all that grime and build-up.

You breathe a tired sigh and get to work, numbing yourself to the sting of antiseptic and focusing on wrapping your arms and legs with bandages in a familiar routine. Back at the J.I.E., the medics were adamant about teaching agents extensive medical techniques in case they found themselves stranded and unable to access proper care. Back then, it was obviously an excuse for them to do less work, but now you appreciate the rigorous training they’d put you through.

As for the cut on your back, you couldn’t necessarily reach it, though even you could tell it would need stitches. You definitely wouldn’t be able to do that on your own so you settle on rubbing a disinfectant gel on as much as you could before wrapping your upper torso in a long winding bandage. It would have to do for now.

Moving around as much as you have exhausted you and to be honest, you’d be more than happy to lie down and sleep on the cold linoleum floor, though you don’t think Leon would appreciate it as much.

Speaking of which, there was an alarming issue with clothing…

You grimace, looking at the ragged state of your former outfit, and cringe upon thinking about having to put it back on. You didn’t necessarily have time to pack before you fled the J.I.E.

A harsh knock scares you nearly out of your skin and you mentally curse Leon as his voice muffles from the other side of the door. “You doing alright?”

“Sure,” you answer back, frowning. Well…you’re as fine as you could be with two compromised joints and a dangerously large gash on your back. “I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna do with my clothes.”

There’s a heavy silence before Leon mumbles some unintelligible. You’re about to ask him what he said until he speaks before you get the chance to. “I’ll stop by the motel office. Pretty sure they had clothes up there for sale.”

“Okay.”

“Size?”

You tell him and you hear the sound of things being shuffled around before the front door slams shut. Immediately, you try the knob and huff upon the handle refusing to give which meant the fucker likely jammed it on the other side to lock you in. Smartass.

It felt like a lifetime before he returned, jiggling out whatever he had blocked the handle with and cracking open the door to put up the goods onto the counter. It was just a white t-shirt made of rough cotton, gray sweatpants, underwear, and a pair of thick socks but in your eyes, it was just as good as a ball gown made of exotic silk.

When you stumble out of the bathroom, Leon looks up from his place on the bed as you slowly make your way out.

For a second, neither of you speaks a word as he finally takes you in without all the dirt and crap you’ve been covered with for the past few days and you try to piece together why this was happening in the first place. This hospitality–this unnatural kindness–it had to be for something.

You tear your eyes away from him, making your way back over to the couch where Leon had set up one of the pillows and a thick blanket, which you spread out gratefully.

It’s really hard to hate him when he does things like this, but it’s easy to turn that into some type of annoyance to use against him. It was all too easy to find things to dislike about Leon, with the years you’ve watched him, you could nitpick his faults down to memory.

You settle down and the exhaustion hits you like a semi on the interstate.

Sleep anchors you, yet you remember your manners, managing to yawn and mumble out, “Thank you.”

The silence that follows is deafening and you almost think he didn’t hear you until he says, bordering on the softest tone you’ve ever heard him with yet, “Yeah, sure.”

And just because you have to remind him this doesn’t change anything in your dynamic, you quip, “You’re still a conniving bastard.”

“You know me so well,” Leon mutters unamused.

“Oh, go choke on a day-old cashew.”

“Hope you suffocate in your sleep.”

As you let yourself slip into unconsciousness, you think to yourself that it’s the same as it ever was. Somehow, it soothes you knowing that this aspect of your rivalry will never change. No amount of questionable tolerance from him could ever affect that, and you know you’d be quite content to turn the gun on him once you were back in good condition.

He was your enemy. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Just the way it was supposed to be.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The next time you wake up, Leon's already moving around the room restlessly.

You don't see it, but goddamn, could you hear it. The floor was not doing your already growing headache any favors and coupled with the occasional mumbles from Leon to himself, you think your brain might explode.

You squint, trying to figure out what has him in a frenzy before noticing that you're positioned close enough to the window that you can peek through the crack between the glass and the curtain if you stretch. One moment is all it took before your eyes widened because all that was outside was white. Vaguely, you remember something about snow being said on the news the morning you'd left the J.I.E. but never did the weatherman mention that it was going to be this bad.

Leon must've noticed you were awake because he immediately moved away and you can hear the faucet running just like the last time you were conscious.

You consider this as he comes around the corner and wordlessly hands the cup of water and pills off to you before going to stoke a fireplace you hadn't noticed before due to its inactivity. His silent disposition is off-putting at the very least as you drink and take your painkillers and watch him mess with the wood that fed the flames. The motel must be ages old if it was still relying on fire for some extra heat.

"We're blocked in," Leon says gruffly, not even sparing you a glance. "It's not going to stop for at least a day or two."

You can read what he means: the two of you were stuck together until the snow calmed down enough that you could survive on your own.

Joy. You're sure his resentment for the situation matches yours.

"Quality bonding time," you quip, shifting and wincing at the soreness that seems to encompass every muscle. "We can make friendship bracelets and sing kumbaya together by the fire."

He shoots you an unimpressed look, only to furrow his eyebrows when your stomach gives an intense growl that reverberates through your diaphragm. You flush, embarrassed for the impeccable timing and you try to play it off, looking away to watch the flurry of snow whipping violently outside.

You hear rustling before it falls into silence.

Then something solid hits your head softly and lands on the floor by the couch with a crinkle.

You swivel and look down to find a protein bar lying on the ground, obviously the chosen projectile your unfortunate savior had chosen. Shooting him the rudest glare you can muster, you lean over and take the snack while the annoyance starts simmering in your chest.

"Hope you can at least stomach that," Leon says passively.

"If I can't, I'll throw up on you."

"You really know how to show a guy a good time, don't you?"

"Only ones who can treat me right."

He puts his arms up as if surrendering, shaking his head. "If saving your life isn't treating you right, then you must have some pretty high standards."

"If I recall correctly, you've also tried to kill me multiple times." You roll your eyes while unwrapping your protein bar and biting into it. The taste manages to soothe the anger in your stomach as you eat and luckily, it was the type of bar that was meant to be filling so it left you somewhat satisfied.

"Hypocrite," he clicks his tongue and if your shoulder wasn't out of commission, you'd pull your gun out and shoot him in the leg to get even.

Well…if you had your gun.

"Where'd you put my weapons?" You ask curiously, balling up your now empty wrapper and tossing it into a nearby small trash can. "Those are kinda important to me."

"Very funny. I’m not looking forward to being shot or stabbed when this is supposed to be my vacation."

"Well, excuse me for trying to make small talk," you fold your arms and just your chin out. "Hope you're ready for an eventful few days getting the damn silent treatment."

The two of you stare at each other from across the room, both unmoving and equally stubborn. The only good thing that came out of this whole thing was that you've learned each other's body language well enough that you could practically read each other without saying any words. Granted, the words usually said were threats to kill each other.

Leon analyzes you and your determined silence before he sighs and shakes his head. "You have a good taste in firearms, at least."

"I really hope that's not how you try and flirt with every woman you meet."

"Believe me, you're the last person in the world I'd ever try to flirt with."

“Rude,” you scoff.

There’s something different in the atmosphere. You watch as Leon finishes messing with the fire and starts getting out supplies to clean out his guns. Not wishing to dwell on it and deciding you have nothing better to do, you return to watching the blinding snowstorm outside. Some part of your mind fears that the J.I.E. were looking for you even in this intense weather, but surely even they weren’t stupid enough to try and track you down in this whole mess.

Perhaps they presumed you were dead. They did send a whole bioweapon to end you, though if they were serious about it, it would have tracked you down and not stopped until it had crushed you itself.

You shudder, vaguely remembering the fight and running off of nothing but pure adrenaline while escaping. It was your last obstacle before you had managed to stumble out into the frigid air and start struggling to the motel.

You glance at Leon from the corner of your eye.

Truthfully, he wasn’t your first choice. There were multiple people you could have called to play getaway driver for you, but the potential of someone hijacking the signal and finding out about your plans was too high. It ran the risk of trading safety for comfort so that had definitely been off the board. Staying wasn’t an option either–not after what they revealed they were trying to do.

You’d located Leon’s location not long after the events in New York City with Glenn Arias. You don’t know the entire ins and outs of it, but he had suffered from a lot of blunt force trauma and as a result, had to be hospitalized for a few days. It wasn’t that hard to find his medical records in the doctor’s database, and furthermore, it was easy to then trace where he was planning on getting away.

Fortunately, it was near enough to the lab you were stationed but the walk was arduous. He was the only viable option.

“Do you always stare so openly?”

His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you blink before raising an eyebrow in a silent prompt.

“You’ve been giving me a side eye for the last minute or so,” he points out, cleaning out the barrels on one of his guns. “It’s kind of unsettling.”

“I thought you’d be used to a woman watching you,” you hum, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand. “Are you telling me that you don’t have as much game as you say you have?”

“It’s a little different with you.”

“Aw, are you saying I’m special?”

Leon’s lip pulls up in disdain and you have to resist the urge to laugh lest you pull a muscle or something. “Don’t get any ideas. God only knows what happens in that little fucked up brain of yours.”

“You wound me,” you simper mockingly. "I thought we had something good going."

"I worry for your past relationships if this is your definition of good."

He doesn't need to know that you've never put yourself out there after high school. The J.I.E. didn't leave any relationships to be had outside of the workforce and the people you'd worked with were far from interesting. Besides, you'd be putting them in danger if they were outside of your work sphere.

The last guy you'd given a chance only ended up with him knocking up another girl at a house party so your track record isn't anything to sneeze at either.

"Alright," A sigh escapes your lips as you shift your body so you can look him in the eyes and he stares back just as defiantly. "Let's make a deal."

He obviously doesn't like the ominous tone that’s used primarily when you’re about to say something to get underneath his skin. "What are you proposing?"

"It's simple," you smile. "As long as we're stuck together, we don't kill each other. Like a peace treaty without the officiation.”

“I thought that was a given.”

“Well, you keep alluding that you assume I’m gonna put a rusted pipe through your gut while you’re asleep, though I’m pretty sure I sleep more than you do.” You frown. “Are you saying you don’t agree?”

“It’s not that,” Leon shakes his head. “I just never thought I’d see you trying to keep the peace.”

“What kind of girl do you take me for?” Like a little drama queen, you sniff exaggeratedly. “I know how to behave when the circumstances call for it.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“You fucking suck.”

“Don’t forget that you’re the one who came to me,” Leon grumbles. “I could’ve left your ass in the snow to freeze over.”

“Maybe that would’ve been the better option for both of us.” The words are sharp, biting out with aggression even you didn’t expect. “You can get real pissy sometimes, y’know.”

“I think I have a good reason,” Leon snaps, and the gun he’s polishing suddenly seems a lot more dangerous in his hands. “All you do is fucking whine when I could’ve finished what I started.”

You grit your teeth, falling into silence as the two of you maintain deadly eye contact. All the exits and where they were located flash through your head and you know it would take too long to try and escape while you’re injured. You could barely slip away from his perceptive nature when in full health.

Maybe it was time for another nap.

For some reason, the instinct was reminiscent of the times your parents would argue so loudly, it shook the house, and a younger version of yourself turned on her nightlight and tucked herself into bed to sleep away the pain just to wake up to blissful silence. You just didn't expect the old habit to resurface here.

You turn away from him, folding in on yourself, and try not to think about the snow piling outside, the monsters out to get you, or the fact that Leon's eyes are still burning at your backside as he watches. It's less creepy and more irritating and you wonder if he knew how to let someone sleep in peace.

Your eyes close and you try to fill your head with mindless thoughts until he forcefully pulls you out of it.

"I…Let's just try and get through this without going at each other's throats. Okay?"

You don't have the energy to fight him nor did you particularly want to right now. "Okay."

Refusing to look at him, you resign to watching the swirling white outside rather than face the tension that obviously was brewing in the room. Even with this uneasy peace treaty, there was no guarantee that it would be upheld without efforts made by both of you.

In the background, you hear Leon begin shuffling around and you sneak a glance over to see he's elbow deep in one of his bags before he pulls out a sleek silver attache case. He finally seems to find what he's looking for when he takes out a vial that's filled with green, red, and yellow. It's small, probably a little longer than his middle finger, but the contents concern you a little–especially when he saunters over and holds it out to you like you know what to do with it.

"Are we getting high as a celebration of our camaraderie?" You ask, raising an eyebrow as you take it. The colors are all crushed-up leaves of some kind and you silently wonder if Leon's been a stoner this whole time you've known him. "I don't do blunts, Kennedy."

"Slow your roll, crackhead," he scoffs. "It's herbs that'll put you right as rain."

"And you want me to…?"

"Eat it."

You blink dumbly at him, trying to figure out if this was all some kind of joke that he was trying to play on you. "What?"

"I had to take doses of it all the time when I was in Spain," he assures, though you don't feel any better about the prospect.

"I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse."

"Take it with water if you're so worried."

You watch him carefully as you uncap the vial and cringe at the strong smell of the plants and the powerful aroma of an herbal scent. In fact, if you stayed here for a bit, you're sure your eyes would probably water as if you were standing in front of an onion while chopping it. Looking at Leon with uncertainty, he just nodded like that made this whole situation viable.

You didn't really have a choice.

You pour the contents of the vial into your mouth then choke down as much water as you can as fast as you can. It's alarming the way your body seems to jolt and the nerves beneath your skin start buzzing. If this is what dying felt like, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

"You should sleep," Leon suggests, turning around and making his way to the bathroom. "You've been awake for a while and the herbs need time to settle."

"Alright."

He spares you a glance, looking as though he wanted to say something. It doesn't make it off his tongue though, as he turns back around and closes the door with a soft click. Soon, you hear the sound of running water, and the sounds of the shower provide a comforting white noise as you settle down on the couch.

Your eyes close, and it doesn't take long before you find yourself in the middle of a smoking battlefield covered in the debris of fallen buildings. Somewhere, a grenade goes off.

Some things never changed.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

“I’m serious, Kennedy,” you frown, trying to work it all out. “Where the hell did you even get something like that?”

He shrugs but the small shit-eating smirk he tries to suppress is more than enough to make your blood boil just a little.

When you had woken up, your body seemed to have rewound back in time while you were asleep, putting you back at peak health. The injuries that you had been nursing for about three days vanished without a trace and didn’t leave any after-effects. The autonomy you had almost made you fall off the damn couch when you realized this fact and it had devolved into trying to get Leon to tell you what the hell was in that vial and how he had gotten his hands on it.

Your questioning has not been successful so far. He’s scarily good at evading giving an answer.

You fall back to sit on the couch, rolling your shoulder and ankle this way and that, trying to find a fault in the healing process, but come up empty-handed. It really was as if nothing happened at all.

“Just in case,” Leon speaks suddenly, “I’d like to check you over for any extra injuries. Even those herbs can’t catch everything if we’re not careful.”

Your lips purse as you reel back at the idea. That was something that required trust, which very little of ran between you and Leon. Exposing yourself to him for an easy shot at your back wasn’t the most appealing scenario and you’d rather avoid the chance of it altogether. He had a point, though, since you couldn’t see the cut on your back and knew that if it didn’t heal correctly, it could get infected which was less than ideal.

“I want all weapons on the other side of the room,” you concede and he immediately sets to work discarding everything away from the couch as you venture to the bathroom for the first aid kit.

Nervousness rolls in your gut as if you were about to go out on a stage and perform at an opera in front of thousands of eyes–actually, that would probably be better than this. Every muscle in you twitches as if reminding you what typically happens when you or Leon see a vulnerability in each other.

That was rule number one: you see a weakness, you exploit it.

When you return, Leon’s already sat down and removed his jacket so that all he was left with was a gray t-shirt and pants with pockets that were comfortingly flat and empty-looking. You sit down with your back facing towards him, set the kit in your lap, and breathe out in hopes that it would soothe your nerves.

It does not.

“There was a nasty cut on my back,” you begin, deciding fuck it and strip off your shirt. The cooler air hits your skin and you shudder. “I couldn’t reach it so I just slapped some disinfectant on it and called it a day.”

“How you managed to wrap it with one arm is beyond me,” he remarks, tapping the bandages that you begin to remove when you get the hint.

The wrappings fall away and the room falls silent. Too silent.

Afraid, you mutter, “Leon?”

“What the fuck?”

The last time he had said that was when you had shown up on his doorstep, and his tone concerns you so much that you pivot your torso around just enough to look at him.

His eyes have locked onto the scars on your backside, and you can feel the ghost of a grip that nearly ground your radius and ulna together as a blade had carved itself into your skin. You know what it looks like, having avoided mirrors that had any view of the rigid flesh that decorates your back like a mutilated canvas. The scars are ugly, forcefully healed and you realize why it might look odd to someone who hasn’t had to bear the curse of looking at them every morning.

A collection of punishments you had deserved. You hadn't been careful enough and you paid the price

When he talks again, Leon sounds like he's ready and poised to kill, though it wasn't directed at you which was incredibly uncharacteristic of him. "Who did this to you?"

You look away. "It's not important."

The silence hangs tensely in the air, just waiting to burst open. Of course, it's awkward being half-naked in front of Leon bearing old scars that you tend to try to forget for a reason. This was supposed to be just a check-up–maybe some aid in patching up that horrendous cut on your back–nothing more.

"They did this," he murmurs, almost inaudible. "Didn't they?"

You don't look at him, hoping that if you will yourself hard enough, you could just disintegrate. You'd do anything just to get away from the demanding gaze his blue eyes pin you down with even with him not having touched you at all.

"(Y/n)." He's never said your name like that before. As if you mattered to him. As if anything that hurt you hurt him too. "What happened at the J.I.E.?"

Well…there was no point in trying to hide it now, was there?

“They began understanding that Umbrella wasn’t backing down from their advances no matter what they did.” You flinch when the pad of his fingertip brushes the wound from the bioweapon. “Careful.”

“Sorry,” he says and it still feels weird to hear him apologize. “It’s still open so I’ll have to stitch it. You’re lucky it didn’t get infected.”

“Okay,” you open up the first aid kit and hand it over to Leon and he begins the process of numbing the area. “Anyways, um, the J.I.E. got it into their heads that the only way to take down Umbrella was fighting fire with fire so they started developing their own bioweapons–which I didn’t agree with.”

Leon pulls away and rummages through the kit for a needle and thread.

“I tried getting them to understand that starting a B.O.W. war was gonna do more harm than good, but of course, they didn’t listen to me. Instead, they only resolved to keep me in line and continued with their work.” You close your eyes. “Oftentimes, they’d chain me up in one of the labs and…well, you can see how that turned out.”

The point of the needle pierces your flesh and you talk to avoid the feeling of the thread winding through your skin. “I didn’t learn my lesson the first few times and I could only take so much before I had enough of it.”

“So you left.”

“I left, but not without a fight. They sent a titan after me while I was making my escape, and I barely managed to get out alive,” you hesitate, “and that’s when I came to you.”

“About that,” he mumbles, hands steady as he makes his way up the injury, “how’d you know where I was?”

“They kept tabs on you specifically since you posed the greatest threat. I was sent to your locations because of my experience in encountering you so they knew I’d have the most success rate following your missions.” You bite your cheek to avoid twitching from the needle hitting a tender spot. “It wasn’t hard to track you after the incident with Glenn Arias in New York since they also held your medical records. After I found out you were here, I corrupted your files and removed them entirely from the database.”

“Smart.”

“I try to be.”

The rest of the stitching only lasts in silence as he finishes up, pulling the wound together and sealing it with a patch. Together, you re-wrap your torso and he snaps shut the first aid kit.

“Thank you,” you say, reaching out to take the plastic box off his hands so you can return it to the bathroom. “By the way, do you know when this blizzard is going to end?”

“Should be done the day after tomorrow,” he answers before his expression twists in confusion. “Why? You have somewhere to be?”

“I need time to plan if I’m going to be taking down a whole company,” you tuck away the box and close the cabinets, poking your head out of the bathroom to peer at him. “I also should do some recon work to see what I’m really working with. They don’t tell agents much, y’know?”

“You’re going back?”

“I have to.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that alone,” Leon argues as if you haven’t run through this decision a million times in your head already.

“What am I going to do?” You roll your eyes, walking out of the bathroom and sitting on the couch a good few feet away from him. “Amass an army? This is really the only way to do it.”

Upon seeing his stony expression, you struggle to understand why he was making such a big deal out of this. Were it any other day, he would tell you to go die if you really wanted to and leave it at that, so what could have possibly changed that made him concerned over how dangerous this self-imposed mission of yours was?

“Let me come with you,” Leon says and your stomach drops.

You could barely formulate any words. “What?”

“I already told you that going alone is a surefire way to get yourself shot in the head,” Leon shrugs as if you were discussing what you had for lunch. “Are you really going to say no to an extra pair of eyes?”

“No, but–” this whole conversation is turning your whole entire world upside down, “–what the hell would you be getting out of this? Are you out of your mind?”

Leon gets up, and the muscles on his back flex. “I’d be finding out how J.I.E.’s been getting through the government’s defenses, which has been a particular thorn in our side. Really, there’s nothing to lose.”

“Except your life.”

“There’s always been that possibility.”

You breathe deeply through your nose, trying to sort out the confusion of this whole situation. It’s a wonder how he always manages to do this. “Leon. I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Fire away.”

“Why did you really let me live? When I showed up.” Your gaze looks past him through your lashes and he considers you for a brief moment, seemingly thinking over his answer. “You could’ve killed me–ended this all and gone on with your little vacation. I really need to know now.”

“Well that one’s easy,” he leans down and takes a black duffel bag up in his arms. He tosses it over and it lands at your feet. “I couldn’t leave you to die when you were so helpless.”

You unzip the bag and find all of your belongings in there from your guns to stocks to the boxes of bullets you’d brought along. Everything is left untouched to your relief and you take out your handgun, running a finger over the inscription lined in gold on the side. In this state, you make up your mind and mentally curse yourself and Leon.

“Alright,” you finally allow, looking up at him with new determination. “We get out of here when the blizzard stops and we figure out a way to get into the lab.”

“We take it down from the inside.”

“We end their operations, apprehend any officials, and let the government handle the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Leon huffs out a breath, taking a protein bar and handing it over to you. “I take it our peace treaty has been extended for a period of time?”

“I hope so,” you accept the bar from him and peel it open. “Otherwise I’d have to question your motives all over again.”

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” Leon flashes you a look you can’t quite decipher. “We’ll leave when the blizzard stops and we can get to the motel’s laundry mat so you’re not trekking out in the snow with sweats.”

“So considerate of you.”

“I try to be.”

The two of you lapse into your own separate worlds as Leon goes through his supplies and you begin doing checks over your equipment. Your knife glints under the low light and J.I.E.’s logo shines proudly on the hilt. You scowl, sheathing it and tossing it carelessly back into the bag.

You really need to upgrade a few things.

�� ˚ 　· 　　 .

The night is crisp, cool, and calming.

You never expected the cold to be comforting, but here you are. After the rollercoaster of emotions the past few days have been, you were eager to find someplace to be alone. Of, course, it’s not because of anything Leon did, but it was nice to just be by yourself with your own thoughts from time to time.

A windbreaker jacket is all you have to shelter yourself from the frigid temperature, but you find that it isn’t as intrusive as you expected it to be.

You sigh and a cloud of breath spills from your lips, puffing up into the air and floating away like less elegant smoke rings. Your eyes follow it until the miniature clouds disappear, your body leaning back into the wooden wall of the motel. One thought springs after another and with nothing but the wind whistling in your ears, something akin to peace stirs in your chest.

It's quiet out here.

While tension still ran between the both of you since Leon had stitched up your back, you’d be lying if you said nothing has changed. The atmosphere has drastically shifted within the motel room from simmering hate ready to boil over to something much milder. Obviously, old habits die hard and you can’t help but be cautious every time he gets closer to you than usual, but he never does anything out of line.

You can’t tell if that’s more alarming or not.

Snow cascades like white q-tips, gently fluttering to the ground rather than swirling violently as it had just yesterday. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch and in this space of solitude, it’s nice to know that nature takes its course no matter what may be happening. Despite all the B.O.W.s and corrupted companies, places like this stay safely hidden away from all that drama and exist like an external part of the earth.

A safe space–or haven, even.

Out in the distance by the gap in the fence where you had come in is a street lamp with two lanterns positioned symmetrically on each side of the pole. While one shines proudly and sheds light onto the snow below it, the other stays dead and dark. You wonder if it had just broken one day or gotten too old, but nonetheless, it's sort of a sad sight altogether.

The door creaks open and you perk up.

Leon comes out slowly but his shoulders relax upon seeing you as he shuts the door gently behind him as he says, “I thought you might’ve booked it.”

“Don’t be silly,” you chastise lightly, though not really mad at all. “I thought I would come outside to watch the snowfall before I have to jump into all the action later.”

He comes to stand beside you and together, you watch the flurries fall. You haven't been able to enjoy a moment like this in a long while since the J.I.E. always held you on such a short leash. When one mission ended, another began, and you'd been stuck in a loop ever since they found out that using physical means kept you fighting to stay alive.

Leon clears his throat awkwardly. "I don't remember the last time I just…watched the snow."

You glance at him and a smile threatens to tug on your lips, knowing that he's trying his best but all too unfamiliar from being emotionally constipated. It's not like you're not the same way, but it's nice to know he's at least trying. "Yeah. I remember last Christmas Eve when I got to, but it didn't last long. Got a damn email telling me I'd be dispatched the next day."

He seems surprised. "You didn't spend Christmas with anybody?"

"Nope." You pop the 'p'. "The night I got to my destination, the receptionist at the hotel I was assigned to looked like I kicked her puppy or something when I told her it was just me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," you snicker. "It's alright, though. I got to walk through the town square at night and it was really pretty. Had all those fairy lights crossing overhead and it gave it this almost golden glow to it."

If you tried hard enough, you could remember it all. The sight of dim lights illuminating shops and hearing the sound of people conversing with each other enthusiastically. The snow had covered the ground in a thin layer and the sound of a rushing fountain had run in the distance, standing as the centerpiece of the town with colored bricks in a perfect circle.

A breeze sweeps through the air and you shiver, trying to curl into the material of your windbreaker that provides no heat at all. "There were so many people there. Friends, families, couples…and then there was just me. It was pretty funny."

"Did you get to do anything?"

You finally look up at him only to find him already staring down at you. Your heart seems to kick harshly in your chest before returning to its regular pace, and you don't give your brain time to dwell on it before answering. "Well, I got to help a little boy find his parents."

"What?"

"He came up to me crying," you reminisce, shifting your gaze away from him and back out to the road that led up to the motel. "Grabbed me by the pant leg and started telling me about how he lost his mom in the middle of a crowd and now he couldn't find her."

"Jesus Christ."

A small laugh escapes your throat. "I walked with him on my hip for about three hours looking for her until we finally found her and his dad at a café. They tried paying me but…" The toe of your boot digs mindlessly into the floor beneath you. "I refused. Helping someone who's lost their way shouldn't be a monetary gain, y'know?"

Leon doesn't answer you on that, and you lock eyes with him once more as you try to discern what has him in such a stupor. You don't get to ask when you catch sight of his dusty blue irises that seem to shift in shade with every expansion and contraction of his pupils. He looks like he's trying to find something in your expression, but whatever it could be, you don't know. It's nearly unnerving. Nearly.

"Is that really your philosophy?" He finally asks after an extensive lapse of only quiet filling the spaces between your bodies.

"What do you mean?" You shake your head before rephrasing, "What do you really mean?"

A breathy laugh escapes him and you realize that in all the years you've known him, you don't even know the most basic things about Leon. You know how to read the undertones of his questions, can interpret his body language better than any lover he's ever had, but you don't even know what his favorite color is. You don't know his favorite time of day or what type of foods he likes or what his favorite subject in school was.

You don't know what his laugh sounds like or how his lips will pull when he genuinely smiles or how he expresses joy to any capacity.

You've only seen an agent, devolving into something darker as he lost his dirty blonde hair along the way and gained a deep brunette that made his eyes all the more electric. He's gotten careless about the stubble that peppers his jawline and you realize that objectively, he looks good at his age, though you'd take that realization to the grave.

The two do you have really let your lives slip away that easily, huh?

"You'll understand one day," he says vaguely, and though you're unhappy with the response, you decide to let it slide just this once. "You're shivering–let's go inside."

"Sure," you murmur, giving the landscape one more forlorn look before following him inside.

The heat encapsulates you and immediately, the cold drifts away into something warmer. Leon's already there in the middle of it all as he heats up something on a pan over the fire, claiming that since it's your last night, he'd use the better food he brought so that it wouldn't go to waste. After all, he's already set sights in an actual hotel in a real city that he plans on traveling to and has already run through the possibilities with you and what to expect.

Something about the whole scene is oddly domestic, though you push down the feeling to go join him by the roaring fire. Since you've been here, the sound of wood splitting beneath the flames and the smell of smoke have become a comfort that you know you'll miss once you get out of here.

The night drags on as you eat and discuss your next plans with Leon, out in the middle of nowhere with nobody but each other to confide in. Two incredibly unlikely allies working in tandem after years of a heated feud–truly a sight to behold and even more so impressive considering that you've been at each other's throats for such a long time.

Outside, out of sight from you and him, the dead lantern on the street lamp sparks once, twice, then illuminates just as strongly and brightly as its counterpart.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil leon #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fanfic

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fatphobiabusters · 8 months

Text

Fatphobia is so popular and normalized that you don't even need to watch fatphobic shit for YouTube to recommend it to you.

Making fatphobic shit is also so lucrative that you can get 500,000 views on a less than two minute video made by AI, meaning that you didn't even have to do the work yourself. All you have to do to get half a million views is put a picture of a fat person as the thumbnail and make the most unoriginal garbage pile of a pun that you can think of to slap on the video as a title.

And you want to know why?

You want to know why everyone and their mother loves to freely harass fat people? You want to know why this makes half a million views on a video that doesn't even meet the two minute mark?

It's because fat people are one of the only oppressed groups left who you can abuse and oppress with zero backlash. We aren't protected by anti-discrimination laws. There's a single organization that gives a damn about our oppression, and it's not even a powerful or well-known organization to people outside of the very small community of fat liberationists. You won't even be shamed on social media beyond a tiny percentage of accounts like this blog. I can't begin to describe how many fatphobic bigots I have dealt with over the years who were people who claimed to be "progressive" and said they supported equality. So many fatphobes I have dealt with had pride flag icons and argued to me that fat people aren't oppressed because "[insert whatever other group here the fatphobe was using this time] has it worse!" Fat people have even been thrown out of the body positivity movement that WE. STARTED.

So if I can't even rely on "progressive" people who give a shit about everyone else to give a shit about me? People who claim to care about equality and all of my other oppressed identities but treat me like the dirt underneath their feet as soon I'm not "fuckable" to them? You can see pretty fucking clearly how this world has a strangling hold on fat people and refuses to let go of their last punching bag that has zero consequences for pummeling into the ground.

The world knows that you will endure consequences (legal, financial, and/or social) for being bigoted against any oppressed group with a mainstream activism movement, so that's why conservatives and progressives alike wipe their brow in relief that there's at least one group they know is okay to harm as much as they want without having to worry of backlash.

And for the people who never developed their reading comprehension skills, no where did I say that other oppressed groups don't have it bad. No where did I say that other oppressed groups aren't still harmed today. Stop it with your bad faith takes and attempts to make this another "piss on the poor."

There's a major difference between what I endure as a fat person and what I endure for my plethora of other oppressed identities. If you discriminate against me for being gay, there's anti-discrimination laws and policies. There's financial losses to your business by the people who will boycott you. There's loss of reputation. There's loss of relationships, social status, and trust. People have even lost their jobs for being homophobic. It's not perfect, but it's far from lacking consequences.

But when I'm discriminated against for being fat? All those people who supposedly cared about me for being gay are not only silent when I'm discriminated against for my fatness, they often actively support the fatphobia I faced.

That is the fucking difference.

-Mod Worthy

#fatphobia #oppression #fat liberation #Mod Worthy

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ssturniolo · 1 year

Note

Hey boo! I was wondering if you could do angst with any of the triplets? With a sad ending maybe? No worries if you aren’t into writing that 🫶🏼 Take your time ml, no rush

Can’t

|| pt.1 || pt.2 ||

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - after the hate becomes too much, you decide you have to do something.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - death threats, hate messaging, angst, sad (sorry)

𝔞/𝔫 - if y’all want a pt.2 lmk. Also I’m going into my first year of college, (yes ik I took a break year) so I’ll try my best to get stuff out it just might take awhile.

Nothing compares to that horrible feeling of opening your phone to a million hate messages. Ever since it got out that you and Chris were dating, you’ve gotten non-stop DMs with death threats, gross questions about Chris, and just overall hate.

You and Chris’s comment sections are filled with haters (jealous teens), and people just can’t seem to stop. Chris had already made a video addressing the matter, and that just stirred up more hate, death threats, and rumors.

Being a social media influencer and singer, you had already dealt with a lot of hate before, but dating Chris has made it ten times worse. You know it’s not his fault, but your mental health has dropped immensely since these comments started coming in, and you’ve tried to ignore them, but you just can’t.

You had to do something.

Unlocking the triplets door with the spare key, you make your way to Chris’s room, lightly knocking before walking in.

Upon your entry, Chris looks up from his phone with a smile, which slowly fades seeing your solemn expression.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks concerned, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

You sit next to him, contemplating how to start.

“We need to talk about, um… us” you say nervously, not meeting his eyes.

“What do you mean ‘us’ I thought things were going good?” He says, his concern replaced with confusion.

Taking out your phone, you show him screenshot after screenshot, of your DMs and comments none of which are good.

Furrowing his brows, Chris looks up at you still confused.

“Why are you showing these to me? Yes I know it sucks but you just have to ignore them.”

“That’s the problem Chris, I can’t” you say, tears begging to fall from your eyes.

“It’s absolutely nothing to do with you, I just can’t keep opening my phone to these messages. My mental health is spiraling downwards and I can’t do anything to stop this” you ramble.

“Please baby, we can fix this, just please don’t leave me” he says, taking ahold of your hands, tears running down his cheeks.

You pull away, choking down a sob. Getting up to walk towards the door, you pause, listening to his quiet sniffles breaks your heart. You turn to face him once more, feeling awful seeing his tearstained cheeks.

“I’m sorry Chris. I can’t, I just can’t.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Writing this broke my heart. </3

XOXO - Zoe

#sturniolo triplets #fypage #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo imagine #angst #mental health

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 7 months

Note

Skeleton has to go on a trip. Once he arrives, he notices his suitcase is moving. His child didn't want him to go, so they literally threw all his stuff out and hid in his suitcase during the whole trip.

Undertale Sans - He's kinda happy he found the courage to clean his stuff when he arrived at the hotel because you would have stayed in there a very long time lol. He's not even mad, just in disbelief. He's not too sure what to do though. He can't really teleport you home, it's a country away from here. So... Uh... You're on vacation he guesses? Just never do that again. He could have paid for another ticket, you literally just had to talk to him. He's relieved his kid didn't get hurt.

Undertale Papyrus - What the hell?! It was a twenty hours long trip! You could have died or gotten injured or dehydrated or worse! What were you even thinking?! Papyrus is in dad mode, upset, lecturing his child for long minutes. He can't believe this happened. He's not even sure what to do about this. He can't go back, so the kid will have to stay, but still, there will be consequences. You're grounded as soon as he figures a way to send you back.

Underswap Sans - Oh, man, whyyyy. He escaped the house to have a nice weekend without being forced to be a dad and here he is, forced to be a father. He's exasperated and sends the kid back home on the next flight lol. It's his weekend, leave Dad alone. The kid isn't too happy about it, but, well, they don't really have the choice.

Underswap Papyrus - He's the worst dad ever. He's the worst dad that ever existed on Earth. How could he not notice his baby after so long?! He's horrified his child had to travel inside his suitcase just to not be separated from his dad. Honey won't stop hugging his baby and apologizing a million times.

Underfell Sans - So that's why his suitcase was so heavy. And he thought Edge put some more things for him... Wait. Where are his things? He looks at the kid, who very slowly goes back to hide in the suitcase and starts to close it lol. Red takes a deep breath. He swears he's going to send his kid back home inside the suitcase. It's too tempting right now.

Underfell Papyrus - You're really lucky you managed to open the suitcase. Because Edge saw something moving inside and he was about to pierce it with a dozen spears.... Dumb ways to die, you know. Edge is mad though. Not only you're grounded, but you're going to pay for all of the stuff you threw away to come with him. No more allowance before at least a year. Welp, you deserve it.

Horrortale Sans - The kid thinks it's starting to be long and eventually opens the suitcase to get some air... Only to find themselves in the middle of the airport, all alone. Yep. Oak completely forgot the suitcase... Good luck to get home now :')

Horrortale Papyrus - There's a long awkward silence as you just stare at each other for long minutes. Willow takes a deep breath, and tries his best to not just, you know, scream. He invites the kid to sit on his bed with a hand gesture. He stares at the wall for a long minute, then dramatically do a slow turn towards the child. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! HOW WAS IT EVEN A GOOD IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE?!" There is going to be a lot of screaming in the hotel that day lol. You're going to be lectured to death after this. And grounded. And forced to do chores around the farm for an entire month. And sent back home.

Swapfell Sans - He was in his bed, finally relaxing after a whole day of traveling, happy. Then out of nowhere, his suitcase started to move on its own. Nox high pitch screams and blasts it, leaving barely two seconds for the kid to escape a terrible death. Nox stays eyes in eyes with his child, confused and in shock, before grabbing them to throw them behind him and blast the rest of the suitcase until it turns to dust. Just in case. He doesn't want any ghosts in his hotel room. Now that this very important matter is dealt with, can you explain why you're here when he's pretty sure he let you home??? He's too much of a softie to get mad at his child, but he still scolds them for doing something so stupid.

Swapfell Papyrus - Uh oh. His S/O is so going to kill him. That's it. He's in exile. He's never getting home ever again. Why would you even do this? No one does this! Ok, maybe he's not the best role model and he can guess where you got that idea, but still! Don't become like him! You're supposed to be his redemption arc, but now you're both villains! Welp. Time to prepare a list of random excuses to explain to his S/O what happened lol.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He opens the suitcase, sees the child, throws a water bottle in, closes the suitcase and puts a lock on it. He leaves you there for the night so you learn your damn lesson and he sends you back home on the first flight the next day. You can cry, he doesn't care. You did this to yourself.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Uh... Well, funny story. He was getting anxious about being all alone in a city he didn't know, and since there was no wardrobe in the room, he was about to hide in his suitcase to calm down. That's a very awkward moment. It takes a good two minutes for Coffee to realize his kid is here, and then to completely panic because what the hell does he do now??? There's only one bed. He doesn't want to be arrested for kidnapping his own child? There's no one with him to help, what does he do? No one told him this could happen! He calls his S/O for help eventually, once he calms down by crushing his kid into a hug to stop his panic attack.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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leth-writes · 18 days

Text

yandere wanda x reader

Summary: this is just a short piece I wrote while watching Multiverse of Madness. It's only like 500 words, but I thought I'd share!

Escaping Wanda was hard. It was hard work, and it was thankless work, but you’d done it. You’d been working your way up to her trusting you, trying to get her to let you cook her meals and go into town with her, and it’d paid off. She’d done her best not to read your mind, too concerned you’d be uncomfortable, and it had resulted in you being able to swipe some pills off the counter of the local grocery store when she went to restock on some essentials, and you’d been able to crush them into the soup you’d been planning and testing for weeks. Everything had lined up perfectly, and you’d slipped out the window.

Out in the real world once again, you were faced with a dilemma. She’d practically erased your identity, removing any and all memories of you from everyone except herself, and you had no one to turn to… except another magic user. You’d need to find someone strong enough to keep her away from you, which drastically limited your options. You’d also tried your best to avoid anyone you knew associated with the Avengers, as they were all tainted by Wanda as well.

Unfortunately for you, you hadn’t considered that Steven Stranged was close friends with the Avengers, and a coworker of Wanda as a result. Honestly, it didn’t matter whether or not he even knew her, he was willing to sacrifice you to her to keep the peace of the multiverse. In the grand view of millions of universes and countless lives, you were so miniscule you couldn’t tip the scales. Besides, Steven dealt with magical threats disrupting the peace, and your kidnapping didn’t disrupt the peace.

So he’d kept you in the keep, plying you with kind words and reassurances, all the while going behind your back to ensure Wanda knew he was willing to hand you over. You’d spent days feeling safe, feeling like the nightmare was finally behind you, only to end up standing in the courtyard, Wanda in full Scarlet Witch getup across from you and smiling gently.

“Come here, my sweet one, and no blood will be shed,” she said, smile growing bigger and eyes glinting.

You turned to Steven, who only looked at Wanda. “I’ve done what you asked,” he started. Betrayal sparked in your chest. “You can have them, as long as there’s no more incidents from your end. If you start problems one more time, we’ll have to rework our agreement,”

That’s all you were. A bargaining chip for two people who didn’t care about your feelings in the matter. In the end, all your efforts were for nothing.

Only the cage snapped shut, and everything got worse. You’d never be free again.

#yandere mcu #yandere marvel #yandere wanda maximoff #yandere wanda x reader #yandere mcu x reader #lethwerites

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adrift-in-thyme · 8 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 7: Suffering in Silence

Ao3

CW for PTSD, referenced injury, and unresolved interpersonal conflict

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

He needs sleep.

Warriors stares into the water-speckled restroom mirror and sees nothing. Blurred shapes are all that are there, forms and colors he knows make up his visage. But his sandpaper eyes have turned them all indistinct.

He is borderless now, as shifting and immaterial as he feels. Brush against him and he will simply float away.

Or sink into the depths that call him.

Taking a deep breath, he scoops a palmful of water onto his face. Its icy frigidity does little to awaken him. He is too far gone for that now.

Movement. Thought. They are nearly impossible. Have been all day.

Perhaps, that is why he had lost it earlier. Perhaps, that is why, the infallible, optimistic captain had simply…snapped.

His breath hitches unexpectedly. Trembling legs give way, depositing him on the tiled floor. Warriors brings his hands up and digs his palms into his eyes, fighting against the searing bite of oncoming tears.

Damn it. Keep it together, captain. You already fell apart once, don’t do it again…

His hands curl into fists. Fingernails dig mercilessly into calloused flesh.

Wild’s words still echo in his mind, a terrible weight he is almost certain he lacks the strength to shoulder.

Even a spirit of courage isn’t mighty enough for things like this.

Hurl him into hoards of squealing beasts. Send him hurtling through time and space. Drop him in the midst of situations he struggles to even comprehend. Take those he loves to a place he cannot go himself. Tear his body apart until there is nothing left.

He can handle all that. He was built to handle all of that.

But to strive so hard, so long only to hear that cursed shout…

“I hate you!”

The deathly chill that has gripped him since the fight (the one that had closed him off from the hero shouting in his face, that had turned his gaze dull, his expression stony, filled his mind with cotton so he could neither think nor feel…and had ignited Wild’s ire further) cracks and shatters into one million pieces. Pain cleaves through the exhausted numbness. A sob rips through his throat.

He’s heard worse. Far greater accusations, far worse insults have been spewed at him with fury and revulsion. Screamed at him as fists and feet connected with bone and muscle; shouted as blades ate away at flesh and cloth.

His own men had called him a traitor to Hyrule. The people he fought to protect had dubbed him a murderer.

It hadn’t hurt as badly as this.

Warriors lets his head fall back against the wall. Hot tears glide down his cheeks, streaming down his neck to skitter beneath his collar.

He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He hadn’t meant to break. But the sleepless nights had only continued since Twilight’s brush with death. The tasks hadn’t stopped piling up. The troubles hadn’t stopped parading through.

(The memories had kept coming, hounding at his every step, haunting his dreams, stealing the breath from his lungs. Memories of death and loss. Of betrayal and heartbreak.)

The latest battle had just been too much. Especially, when Wild had disobeyed orders yet again, hoping to catch the Shadow before he could streak through another gateway.

Normally, Warriors would have held his tongue until he found the best wording for a rebuke. Normally, he would’ve dealt with the situation calmly, firmly…kindly.

But he had been so, so tired.

Even now, he longs to fall into the plush embrace of a heap of blankets. But sleep was impossible out there where he could feel their eyes on him, hear their murmured conversations. He couldn’t-couldn’t see their faces a moment longer.

Warriors hadn’t even allowed himself to dwell on their expressions. Sorrow, shock, judgement, pity — he had identified them all in the split seconds he’d had to look over his friends.

His brothers.

The lump in his throat burns. Warriors swallows against it.

He will have to come out soon, stone-faced and determined. He will have to face the repercussions of everything that has happened with a brave front.

He will have to force down the emotions churning within him, the hurt boiling up.

He has suffered in silence for a close to a week now. And it’s not as though he isn’t skilled at the art of constructing facades by now. At times, the mask feels realer than his true face.

So, really, what’s a little longer for the sake of tentative peace?

Though, what kind of peace can be struck when one person despises the other?

He chuckles, harsh and wet. The sound is hardly audible over the never-ending rush of the water that cascades from the faucet.

Shut it off, the soldier within him shouts. Resources must be preserved.

Warriors doesn’t budge from his place on the floor.

If he had obeyed his instincts, however, he might have heard the sound of a hand on the doorknob, a pick in the lock.

Wind shimmies into the bathroom with shocking stealth. At the sound of the door clicking closed, Warriors startles. Instantly, his hand flies to his boot, seeking the dagger nestled against his leg. But then, his gaze lands on the sailor, standing mere feet from him, expression screwed up in worry. And he lets his hand drop to the floor.

“Goddesses, sailor,” he breathes, “you almost gave me a heartattack. Trying to put me in an early grave?”

Wind slips down beside him, shoulder pressed to the captain’s.

“Sorry! I just…” He looks down at his hands, clasped atop his lap. “...I didn’t think you were actually taking a bath in here. That would’ve been a really long one if you were.”

Warriors chokes out a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be out of character for me though, would it?”

Wind shrugs. “People don’t go bathe after a fight. I know I never do when Aryll and me argue.”

The ceiling smears further into combined shades of emerald-blue. Warriors clears his throat. The suffocating tightness doesn’t lessen.

“‘M sorry you had to hear all that, sailor,” he croaks. “I shouldn't have snapped.”

Wind is quiet for a long thread of moments. When he speaks again, his voice is small. His words, however, are firm, confident.

“Wild didn’t mean what he said, you know.”

The ache in Warriors’ chest pierces deeper and spreads like a blot of ink on silken cloth.

Right when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, now the sailor is trying to comfort him.

…as he mopes on the bathroom floor.

How far can you fall in one day?

Pretty far, it seems.

He shakes his head, hoping the sound of his hair brushing the wall behind him will cloak that of his shuddering breaths.

“Wind, you don’t have to — ”

Wind scoots closer and wraps his two arms around Warriors’ one.

“It’s true! Wild said some really bad stuff but…he was just angry at the Shadow. And…scared.” Large orbs the color of the Great Sea gaze into Warriors’. “Like you.”

The captain is quiet, allowing that a moment to sink in. Or, perhaps, to merely settle on the tower of wavering feelings stacked within him.

He’s so tired. (How many times has he thought that now?) If he closes his eyes, the weight hovering atop him will plummet, dragging him down with it.

More tracks of salty water scurry down his cheeks, bringing warmth to his chilled flesh.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him, you know,” the sailor continues, voice just audible over the continued downpour. “Wild can be an idiot sometimes, especially when he feels bad. He’s gonna wanna talk about what happened but…he probably thinks you hate him now.”

That hardly makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. But Warriors knows he’s got a point.

Some people reach outward when regret has them by the throat. Wild has already lashed out. Now, his only option is to go in.

And when that happens, even the rancher can hardly drag him out.

Good to know luck is on my side, snarks the spiral of self-pity.

Warriors drags in a breath and swallows a mouthful of tears.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he hums. He coaxes his arm out of Wind’s grasp and wraps it around his slight shoulders, pulling him close. “You’re a smart kid, you know that?”

Wind giggles, softly. “Yeah, I know.” He pauses. “And I know you and Wild are gonna be okay. You’re brothers! Siblings always make up, trust me!”

“You’ve got a lot of optimism, sailor,” Warriors whispers.

Silence glides in on the tail of his words. It settles, heavy and hyptonizing over the small space. Warriors allows it to reign for a while.

The days of stress and exhaustion have fully caught up to him now. Frazzled, devastated thoughts slow, bumping lazily against one another. He stares ahead of him and lets everything disappear behind a film of sorrow and fatigue.

“Hey, Wars?” Wind’s voice is a bit louder now, but hesitant. Gentle. “I love you.”

Warriors’ eyes slide closed of their own accord. He doesn’t bother to drag them open again.

“Love you too, sailor,” he murmurs and every word is laborious to utter. “Love you too.”

#febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 7 #referenced injury #ptsd #linked universe #linkeduniverse fic #lu warriors #lu wind #trin writes #angst #hurt/comfort #i had another fic planned for today originally #but then lu updated and i got the idea for this one instead #what can i say?#i never pass up an oppurtunity to angst wars >:)#he and wild will be ok though #they just need time to calm down

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spooksnett · 27 days

Text

Lena is so screweddddd

I think Gwen has made a mistake but not in the 'shes stupid' kind of way

Gwen is a bit oblivious sometimes and definitely not prepared for the horrors but she's not stupid. she knows now how bad things would be if it was only her dealing with all this. By giving that flash drive to Trevor she's basically thrown Lena under the bus. Lena could be fired or worse.

Someone is sending Gwen this information. the 'anonymous third party' seems to know a damn lot about Lena. 20 WHOLE YEARS OF PROOF. that's a long time! :D they've been watching her and clearly they want her out of power but cant do it themselves so they are using gwen to do it. but if Lena is just kicked out, the OIAR is SCREWED. Lena is the only one who knows what's she's doing and even she is barely holding the place together. Gwen knows this. I understood at first why Gwen wanted Lena gone but now she knows the true horrors of what the OIAR does and how dangerous it is and Gwen hasn't mentioned wanting Lena's job since she learnt about this. Even if Gwen hates Lena, she knows its better to have someone who knows what they are doing in the midst. getting rid of her to deal with things alone is a dangerous move and Gwen wouldn't do that. Gwen's motives have changed a lot. She originally wanted Lena's job, then she wanted to know more, then she had a period of time she didn't really want anything and she was not content but she was putting up with Lena cause she knew the OIAR needs her. now she wants her out of power again? why.

WELL

I think it's the last email she got. this third party sent her an email last episode and suddenly now Gwen is using her blackmail and giving it to a government official? she could have done that at any time but didn't.

this is only a theory but I'm guessing this third party has basically said if Lena is out of power, things will still be okay. SOMEONE will take over and handle things. They have to be saying getting rid of Lena isn't dangerous cause they have preparations. Gwen KNOWS she can't handle it alone. I CANT STRESS HOW STUPID GETTING RID OF LENA WOULD BE IF THEY DONT HAVE A BACKUP. they have to. I think Gwen's maybe being manipulated here. Clearly this person does not like Lena at all. it just confuses me why they are only doing this now. they aren't related to the archivist Alice and Sam released cause they've been watching for so long. they have to be involved with the cameras watching them instead. the German source code. what Colin is losing his mind over basically. 20 years of proof. 20 years to do something. but they decided now to send this stuff to Gwen and push her in the right direction to give the evidence to Trevor. they are very good at timing things well. giving Gwen the information at the right time.

basically I think this person might be trying to run the OIAR but they need Lena out first and they are just straight up pupetting Gwen.

the only thing I can't figure out is it they are 'good' or 'bad'. what are their intentions after Lena is gone. what have they promised Gwen. who are they that they have convinced Gwen NOT having the only one who actually knows the full truths of the horrors there to help is better than having her

Gwen. I think you've made a huge mistake and Lena is so screwed. it's clear Lena doesn't actually have much power. the government shoves all this on her and just expects her to get it dealt with. they don't actually care and damn Trevor didn't even know what they do at the OIAR but he did have a go at Lena when she did something the government didn't like. she's being put under so much pressure to deal with all this alone and not even the government will help her.

I've said this since day 1 but I will defend Lena Kelley with my entire life. she's trying so damn hard but its physically impossible and she's getting in trouble for things she can't control and now Gwen might have just made it a million times worse

Gwen I love you to death but that was dumb. Lena I'm so sorry but you're so screwed

thank you for listening to my Lena Kelley rambles part 3629838495

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #gwen bouchard #gwendolyn bouchard #tmagp thoughts #lena kelley #the magnus institute #lena kelley theory #lena needs some therapy and quickly #lena kelley my love

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sonicphobia0601 · 30 days

Text

It's time I spoke about Ludo.

Specifically, how he treated me. After the cock cluster in June (I think us older fans would remember how someone exposed him. Wasn't me and I can't find the blog that did. Awkward), I made it clear that I was willing to help him in the fandom and gave him a nudge. I also made it clear that I would show Tumblr what he is like. He didn't take it and thought I was joking. On that same day, I wrote Chapter 17 of Death and Autism after blocking Ludo. I thought it was the last I saw Ludo. Obviously not!

I write Chapter 18, publish it and thought nothing of it. That was a big mistake.

This shows several things. @kingludoavarius has a gigantic ego (which is worrying). And the way he worded my chapter was quite rude. "Your little rant". As if he was talking down to a child. And that is the equivalent of basically calling me the R slur because I'm autistic. Also, the next part showed that Ludo has obviously learned NOTHING. And to show that it was egotistical, he waited until Chapter 18 to say something even though he wasn't mentioned. (And I draw inspiration from people and include them in fanfiction all the time with permission).

This rubs me the wrong way because of multiple things. This proves he was closed off to suggestions, narcissistic and bigoted. Heck, if he wrote Billie in a queer platonic friendship with Seve he wouldn't be looking like an ass to the entire community and would be perfectly fine as is.

But no, he stuck to his guns and continued his egotistical behavior which evolved into flat out bullying. And it got worse.

Shit got so bad that he had to dragged someone else from the Harry Potter fanfic part of AO3 to bully me. I wasn't being a judgemental prick. This guy acts like queer platonic relationships do not exist (and if someone from the official Billie Bust Up Tumblr says that Katie is in a queer platonic marriage, then this backs up my argument. Do not @ the official Tumblr please. They have already dealt with Ludo).

Things got so bad that @bbu-fan-blog had to step in and basically tell Ludo they're the asshole. To the person running the fan blog, you are definitely going places. Good places too. Here is what @bbu-fan-blog had to say:

"Since BBU is a very personal project, and many characters reflect the devs' personal lives and experiences, changing the LGBT+ identities portrayed in the game, changing sexualities can potentially come off as insensitive. While experimenting with changing characters' sexualities in many fandoms or movies/books/games isn't seen as big of a deal, for BBU its personal nature implicitly asks fans to apply some awareness about the LGBT+ element in it." (a reblog, 2024)

And there are many fandoms that allow LGBTQ+ ships. Harry Potter and Supernatural are not special. The problem is that these fandoms have canonically straight characters and leave interactions between characters open for interpretation (With Destiel, if you didn't know Dean was straight, it could be a cute little relationship between him and Castiel, who is a literal angel. And Harry Potter? Pfft, I have a headcanon where Harry is trans only out of pure spite towards JK Rowling who bullied an actual woman to the point of getting herself into a lawsuit on top of her disgusting transphobia).

And since the characters in Billie Bust Up are tied to real people... Such as Barnaby and Fantoccio having AUTISM for example... I think treating them with the same level of kindness is the best way to go about it. Like there's literally nothing to fix with them. Billie having undiagnosed ADHD is another one. Since the devs wrote them a certain way and have real world ties, their sexualities and queer labels are not open for interpretation. Like let me be honest and raw. Barnaby has a very fruity voice. And I definitely wouldn't change Barnaby even if I was paid a shit ton of money to do that. Seriously, listen to Barnaby in his intro cutscene or listen to this:

I definitely imagine Barnaby dating a guy and singing this to him after he died. And... Uh, spoiler alert, from what I can tell, Barnaby is gender fluid. I definitely need to learn how to write gender fluid characters. Like it's fun but I find myself getting confused. And I'm gender fluid myself.

So Ludo, if you are reading this from an alt account or something like this, congrats. You just bullied a queer autistic adult who is YOUNGER THAN YOU. Scratch that, since if memory serves me right, Ash is autistic and younger than you. So congrats on being a giant bully not just to the autistic side of the fandom but also to the younger fans and fans who are LGBTQ+. Also congrats on actually bullying the developers both to their faces and behind their backs. We DO NOT NEED FIXING.

And one more screenshot.

I read the comments here. The person who wrote the fic in question realized they made a few mistakes and showed that they're willing to listen and change their tack. And what does Ludo do?

Tried justifying pro shipping.

So yeah. Ludo needs to stop being on his computer. It's becoming clear he is chronically online and trying to justify LGBTQ erasure and pro shipping. Which is again, a form of pedophilia.

The writer themselves didn't know (and from what I hear, the writer is a minor). In fact, I don't think they researched. They probably saw Barnaby, Billie, Scrimshaw or Fantoccio, said "Ooh! Cool thingy that looks fun!" And jumped right in without doing research. Which is an oops any new fan could have made.

I can't stress this enough. RESEARCH. RESEARCH. RESEARCH.

So, yeah. TL; DR: Ludo bullied an autistic queer person for simply working with what they do know with info provided by devs and voice actors.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. And Ludo, my pronouns are he/him for you if you are reading this.

Blogger's note: These comments are deleted. So the original screenshots are the ones I provided to talk about my unfortunate experience. These screenshots show Ludo's true colors.

Another thing to note: Billie Bust Up is considered a creative view to the lives of actual people and it would be rude to say nothing. The characters from Billie Bust Up are loosely based on actual people and their stories and struggles. Erasing their sexualities to fit your narrative is basically slapping and bullying the developers themselves. A fine example of this is Billie Bust Up themself because they're loosely based on Katie, who is aroace and is in a QUEER PLATONIC MARRIAGE by the appearance of things, Fantoccio and Barnaby are both loosely based on Ash, who is bisexual and is on the spectrum (their sexualities are probably from actual people on the developer team). The next time I hear "But they're fictional mimimimimimi" just remember that the characters are indeed based on real people and should not have their sexualities changed to fit your narrative because the fandom would see this as a form of bullying the devs and fans alike. Some characters are autistic (A REAL DISABILITY THE BLOGGER HAS) and having disability erasure on top of that would be actively bullying autistic people indirectly by trying to erase the thing that makes these characters so relatable in media (and no, Sheldon Cooper and Jeffy is the worst examples of representation since they only showcase one emotion, which is misinformation in my own humble opinion).

#bbucommunity #bullying is wrong #lets make this community a safe place for an open discussion #Spotify

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links-in-time · 3 months

Text

Twilight Warriors

Chapter 1

This follows on from my fic 'Imposter'.

It's also me paying homage to @st0rmyskies. This is a love letter and prequel to their amazing fic 'Polyamorous Disaster Sky'. As well as their other work which I highly recommend.

I wanted to write my version of how I thought Warriors and Twilight's relationship got started before Sky became involved.

Anyway usual 🔞 warnings, enjoy 😊

"Shit! This is bad Twi!" Wars grunted, shifting Twi's slightly heavier body into a more comfortable position.

"It's not great but it's not terrible!" Twilight replied, tentatively poking at the arrow sticking out of his left shoulder.

"Stop doing that!" Wars smacked his hand away before Twilight could do any more damage.

"It's fine. I'll just pull it out and keep goin. Hand me a potion and I'll be right as rain," Twilight insisted. But his smile faded when he noticed Wars' stricken expression.

"What's wrong?"

"You mean other than the arrow in your shoulder? I haven't got any potions or fairies left. And if you're asking me then I'm guessing you don't either."

"Well, shit!"

"My sentiments exactly," Wars nodded.

He had managed to wrestle Twilight away from the battle in order to examine his wound. Having come up empty on healing items Wars was at a loss for what to do next. The blasted portal had spat them out in the middle of a monster camp. Enormous moblins from Wild's era surrounded them on all sides. He could still hear the others fighting for their lives not far away. Hopefully it wouldn't be long until they finished off the monsters and help would be on its way.

"We'll just have to wait for the others. One of them must have something to help. But I don't want to take that arrow out until they do." Wars insisted, trying to stay calm and level headed. Never mind that the man he had recently developed feelings for was bleeding in his arms.

"I'll be alright Cap," Twilight sighed, looking up at Wars with his lopsided grin which made Wars' knees weak. "I'm tougher than I look."

"Well you must be made of steel because you look pretty tough my friend." Wars chuckled.

His eyes kept flicking to the shaft embedded in Twi's shoulder. A million and one scenarios flashed through his mind. Not all of them bad, but only a handful of them had happy endings. His biggest concern was infection. Wars doubted moblins worried about keeping their weapons clean. The arrow head was likely dirty if not poisoned. Twilight hadn't shown any signs of poisoning, but he hadn't crossed it off the list just yet. A potion could heal most poison damage, but infections were tricky. They weren't always totally cleared up by magic, being a natural occurrence. He didn't understand why, that's just they way things worked sometimes.

"I'll be alright Wars, I've dealt with a lot worse trust me," Twi tried to assure him, gently rubbing Wars hand on his arm with his thumb.

It was a good long while before anyone came to find them. Four had a gash across his forehead, just below his head band. He was panting hard as he pushed through the brush towards them.

"I found them! They're here! Twi's hurt!" He yelled over his shoulder. "What happened? I saw you guys disappear earlier and assumed the worst." Four asked, as he dropped to his knees on the opposite side of Twilight to Wars.

"Got hit by an arrow. Can't move my left arm just now." Twilight explained plainly.

"Not good. I'll go get Hyrule. He was dealing with Wind but he should be done now."

Four sprung back to his feet and was away agin.

"Wait what happened to Wind?!" Wars called after him.

"You're such a mother cooco!" Twilight chuckled.

"Shut up you idiot," Wars huffed, no real feeling in his words.

"Aww, you always call me such sweet nicknames Cap."

"Alright now really do shut up. I'm not sure I want the others know about our little... whatever it is going on between us."

"Okay, no worries, I won't say anything," Twilight insisted and Wars could tell he wasn't teasing anymore.

Help in the form of Hyrule and Time came a few minutes later. Time held Twilight still while Wars pulled the arrow. An instant later Hyrule's healing magic flowed through Twilight's vains, stitching his skin back together. A small pink scar was all that remained just visible beneath Twilight's tunic.

"How'd you feel Twi?" Time asked, looking down at Twilight from where he sat above his head.

Twilight stared up at Time's upside down face and gave him a smile.

"Much better Old Man. Thanks Rulie, the rest of you okay?" Twilight sighed in reply.

"Everyone is mostly fine. After I fixed up Wind he claimed he spotted a village through his telescope, just up ahead on the road," Hyrule replied.

Wars thought the young hero looked exhausted. He always did after using his healing magic on so many people.

"Alright, we'll make for the village and hope we can find somewhere to stay and rest a while. Once we figure out who's era we're in we can come up with a better plan." Wars decided, his grip on Twilight's arm tightening slightly.

"Actually Four thinks it might be his, but he's not quite sure where the portal dropped us yet." Hyrule added.

"Alright, village it is," Time concluded, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. "Can you walk now Twi?"

"Yeah I'm good," Twilight insisted, gently easing Wars' hand off his arm. "Let's get moving."

The Chain moved slowly along the road Wind had found, towards the little houses off in the distance. Wars didn't walk directly beside Twilight, but he hovered near him, hardly allowing the Rancher out of his sight. He seemed fine. The chances of poison had dwindled to nothing. Maybe he was worrying needlessly. Still, he had dried smears of Twilight's blood on his hands. Wars curled his fists and tried to ignore it.

The village was small. So small in fact that there were no shops and no Inn. Time and Four spoke to a farmer who said he had a barn large enough to accommodate all of them. Four gave the old man what he thought was a generous handful of rupies and thanked him for his hospitality.

The barn was designed to house sheep and other livestock. Twilight instantly felt at home. The barn was drafty but it was the middle of summer and the breezes blowing through the cracks in the boards were pleasant. He smiled contently to himself and started unpacking his bedroll and his weapons to check a few things over.

"I don't think we're too far from my town," Four informed them.

As usual Wild's map was useless, just a fuzzy screen and only his inventory was available to him.

"We'll spend the night here then press on in the morning. These people don't seem to have been bothered by the monsters so far, I'd like to keep it that way," Time said to the others.

Wars washed his hands with the last of his water before handing it over to Sky to be filled with everyone else's.

"I'm going to go for a quick walk around the village, make sure we didn't miss any monsters back there," Wars announced.

He was already turning towards the door of the barn when he felt Twilight's hand grip his arm.

"I'll come with you. I could do with stretching my legs a bit more," he uttered, quickly letting go of Wars.

Together the pair left the barn and headed for the edge of the village. It really was small, just a collection of farm buildings and squat single story houses. Twilight spent a while saying hello to the flock of sheep out in one of the fields while Wars rolled his eyes.

Secretly though he found Twilight's way with animals both impressive and endearing. He had an amazing way with them. Like he could speak to them in their language, calm them with his natural kindness. Wars wondered if he'd ever used that soothing talent on any of his brothers.

They walked across the main road through the other end of the village in about fifteen minutes and rounded the corner back towards the barn.

"Did you see that?" Twilight asked suddenly, pointing off between two houses towards some trees.

"What?"

Wars was instantly on alert. His ears pricked for any sound ahead of them. He couldn't see whatever it was Twilight had spotted, but he trusted Twi's instincts. They were always odly accurate.

"I'm sure I saw somethin slip between those two buildings. Might have just been an animal, but we should check it out."

"Alright, I'll follow your lead," Wars replied, drawing his sword just in case.

Twilight and Warriors approached the two buildings, shoulders tensed and senses seaking out anything out of the ordinary. Wars attention drifted away from Twilight towards the trees nearby. Which is why when Twilight rounded on him and pinned Wars against one of the walls, he dropped his sword in surprise.

"Twi what are you...?!" He protested.

Twilight cut off Warriors question with his lips. Planting them firmly with all the pent up passion he had felt throughout the last few days. When he drew back for breath Wars was staring at him, eyebrow raised.

"You didn't see anything, did you?"

"I might have," Twilight replied coily. "We could always go and check. Or we could stay here."

To emphasise his point Twilight pressed his thigh between Wars' legs, putting pressure on his groin. Wars whimpered, a sound which drove Twilight forwards, like a predator taking advantage of its preys weakness. He met Wars' lips once more, kissing him while his hands went to the man's hips to push him roughly against the wall.

"Mmm," Wars moaned into Twilight's mouth, as he began rubbing himself against Twi's leg.

Twilight grinned, flashing his teeth before dipping his head down to kiss Wars' neck. Their clothing didn't allow for much skin to skin contact, but Twilight made up for it. His lips and teeth found the soft spot beneath Wars' jaw and gently nipped his skin, earning him a soft moan from the Captain. Twilight hummed to himself in satisfaction. Watching someone like Warriors wriggle under his touch was intoxicating.

"You okay?" Twi asked, as Wars shuddered at the touch of Twi's tongue on his ear.

"Oh yes," Wars breathed, his hands wrapped tightly around Twilight's shoulders. "Oh Twi!"

Twilight chuckled a little and Wars felt it pass between their chests, tightly pressed together. He let his head fall back against the wall of the building while Twi continued to suckle at the soft skin of his neck.

"We sh-should probably get back. The others will start to wonder where we are," Wars uttered, just about able to keep from stammering.

Twilight moaned softly against his ear.

"I don't want to go back."

"They'll get suspicious. And I don't fancy the tease fest I know Legend will give us if he found out. Come on Twi. You know I want to, but let's be at least a little sensible about this."

Twilight withdrew a little. He stopped pinning Wars against the wall quite so firmly. And he eased his leg out from between Wars' thighs.

"Okay, we'll be careful. When we're with the others everything can be normal. We'll just have to take every chance we can to be alone," Twilight finally relented.

Wars reached up and stroked Twilight's cheek.

"I might be making my perimeter sweeps a bit longer from now on then!"

***

Wild made a simple meal of grilled meat and vegetables for dinner, after which everyone went to sleep. All except for Time who sat on watch at the barn door. The night passed without incident. Watch shifts were exchanged until Legend passed by Twilight at the end of his shift. The older hero was wrapped up in his blanket as usual. But Legend noticed Twilight seemed to be shivering. It wasn't cold by any estimation, it had been quite a pleasant night. But Twilight was definitely shivering.

Concerned, Legend took a few steps closer and squatted down beside Twilight's head. He reached out and laid the back of his hand on Twi's forehead. It didn't take long for Legend to confirm what he suspected. Twi's skin was hot and slick with sweat. Legend grimaced and wiped his hand on his tunic.

"Dummy, went and got yourself a fever didn't you," Legend grumbled in a low tone.

He let out a long sigh and looked around for Time. He found him sleeping not far from the door and went to rouse him.

"Hey, Time," he said, shaking the man awake. "Twi's got a fever."

"Hmm, what?" Time replied groggily rubbing his good eye, as he tried to push himself up onto one arm.

"Twilight's got a temperature and he's shivering something fierce. I think his wound got infected and now he's got a fever," Legend explained.

As Time and Legend went to check on Twilight, the other boys began to stir. Hyrule and Warriors were quick to join Time and Legend by Twilight's side while the others gave them some space and started packing up their things.

"He's got a fever alright," Time confirmed, withdrawing his own hand from Twilight's head. "Twi, can you hear me? Are you awake?"

Twilight didn't respond so Time started gently rocking his shoulder.

"I was afraid this would happen. I should have taken the arrow out sooner," Wars sighed, shaking his head.

"He would have bled out if you'd done that," Legend remarked.

"Anything you can do Rulie?" Time asked, lifting his gaze to look at the traveller.

"I don't think so." Hyrule shook his head sadly. "He needs medicine, not potions or healing. They won't do anything for an infection like this. Good food and warmth should help with the fever, but yeah, medicine."

"I'll go see if anyone in the village has anything that could help," Legend announced, already getting to his feet.

"I'll come with you," Hyrule replied, following the Vet to the door.

It didn't take long for the two boys to come back from their search. The villagers had been sad to inform them that they only had medicine for their animals and a few small supplies for themselves. However there was a larger town nearby where they should be able to get what they needed.

"Sounds like my home town," Four remarked. "I could get us some lodging if we went there."

"Twi's not in any fit state to travel Smithy," Wars reminded him, a gentle hand laid on Twilight's shoulder. "I suggest we split up. Some of us go to town and get medicine for Twilight. Some of us stay with him here and do the best we can until the others get back."

"Sounds like a good plan," Sky agreed.

"I think Four, Legend, Wind and Sky should go to the town. Maybe you should go too Time. Hyrule should stay in case Twi gets worse and he can do anything. And maybe Wild, perhaps you could make him some soup?" Wars continued, addressing each of the boys as he spoke to them.

"That's a solid plan Captain, anyone have any other suggestions?" Time affirmed.

There weren't any objections to Warriors' plan, so the boys going to town finished packing up and left as quickly as they could. Four assured Wars that they would get there and back as soon as possible and not to worry.

Wild went to forrage for ingredients even had a pumpkin donated from one of the farmers. Wars was pleased to see Twilight finally open his eyes when Wild started cooking in one of his portable pots.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked softly, brushing some of Twilight's bangs out of his face.

"Like crap," he croaked, his voice thin and weak compared to the commanding tone he had used on Wars only the day before.

"Some of the others have gone to fetch you some medicine. Wild's cooking pumpkin soup." Wars explained.

"Smells good," Twilight remarked, following his nose towards the source of the delectable smells wafting from Wild's stove.

"I'm glad you haven't lost your appetite. Think you could sit up and drink some water?"

"Sure."

Warriors helped prop Twilight up against a bale of hay they had moved behind his bed roll. He groaned a little but mostly he just seemed exhausted.

"Are you warm enough?" Wars asked, his hand already on a spare blanket folded up beside him.

"I'm 'k for now," Twilight sighed, taking a deep breath.

Wars handed Twilight his canteen and carefully watched Twi taking slow sips. He was pleased to see him drink quite a bit before he handed it back. Not long after Wild arrived with two bowls of steaming soup.

"I tried to make it the way Sky said, but we didn't have all the right herbs. Tastes good though. Hope it helps," Wild informed them as he passed both bowls to Warriors.

"Thanks Wild, you and Hyrule alright?" Warriors replied, looking past Wild to where Hyrule sat reading.

"We're fine. Hyrule's a little fidgety, but fine," Wild smiled with a shrug.

"Okay. You don't have to stay in the barn by the way. If you two want to go explore that's fine. Just don't go too far. Try to keep the village in sight in case we need you." Wars urged, trying not to make it sound like an order.

"Sure, Hyrule wanted to go look for fairies so we'll go check out the woods nearby," Wild brightened, before turning back towards Hyrule.

The two young men quickly slurped up their soup before picking up their gear and disappearing out the barn doors. Meanwhile, Wars turned his attention back to Twilight.

"You ready for some soup?"

"You going to feed me like a child?" Twilight frowned.

"I don't have to. You wanna take the bowl?"

Twilight unfolded his hands from his blanket and carefully took the bowl from Wars' hands. It was warm and made him realise just how cold and clammy his hands were. Twilight swallowed the lump in his throat as he picked up the spoon and lifted it to his mouth. He spilt half of it down his chin before he swallowed the rest. It was still hot and he almost burnt his mouth. Twilight sighed and rested his hands in his lap, defeated.

"You want me to feed you?" Wars asked, this time without any hint of teasing.

"Alright," Twilight replied begrudgingly.

Wars picked up the bowl and the spoon and shuffled himself into a better sitting position. He scooped up another spoonful and gently blew on it before feeding it to Twilight.

"Tastes good," Twilight mumbled.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Wars remarked, loading up another spoonful.

"Yes Sir!" Twi chuckled, but there wasn't any fight in him.

His whole body seemed slumped and ragged, like the fever and exhaustion had seeped into his bones. Wars fought down his pity and continued to spoon feed Twilight. As he did, he couldn't help smile ever so slightly at the intimacy of the situation. Of course he was sorry that Twilight was ill, but there was a certain affection in what he was doing. He scraped the soup off Twilight's chin when he dribbled a little. He backed off when Twi seemed out of breath. And waited patiently when he needed a moment before he could eat any more.

Eventually Twilight said he'd had enough and couldn't stomach any more. Wars was pleased that he had consumed more than half the bowl and took it back to the pot to keep it warm in case Twi wanted more.

"Want me to feed you now?" Twi teased, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

"Ha ha. Very funny. I'd rather you not make a mess of my clothes thank you very much," Wars replied mockingly.

He picked up his own soup which wasn't quite tepid yet and quickly drained the bowl empty.

"Huh, that was good. I'd like to try the original recipe if we end up on Skyloft some day." Wars remarked, setting his bowl aside and taking a quick drink.

"I'd like to show you my home some day," Twilight sighed beside him.

"Yeah, what's your home like? You live in a place called Ordon right?"

"Yeah, I live in a tree house just-outside the village. Rusl helped build it when, when I was too old to stay with them anymore." Twilight explained, his eyelids growing heavy as he struggled to breathe between sentences.

"Sounds lovely. How about you get some rest and you can tell me more about it when you're feeling better Twi?" Wars said softly.

"Okay," Twi sighed, already slipping back down onto his bedroll.

Wars helped him a little and carefully wrapped Twilight in his blanket.

"You still warm enough?" He asked, gently pressing the backs of his fingers to Twilight's cheek.

"Bit cold," Twilight moaned, burying himself in his blanket up to his nose.

Wars nodded and unfolded the spare blanket, gently laying it over twilight and tucking it in around the edges.

"Better?"

Twilight just nodded, exhaustion already claiming his conciousness. Wars hummed in contentment, sitting back a little on his heels. He gazed down at Twilight's peaceful features. The markings on his face had always been a curiosity, but he never thought they detracted from his handsome features. Warriors had always been told he was good looking. Ever since he was a child he'd been told he'd be a heartbreaker. That never sat very well with him, and after Cia... Wars hadn't actively saught out any relationships.

There had been a few one night stands, some short term relationships that never went anywhere. People always seem to expect him to be one thing, the handsome hero. Whenever he tried to express there was more to himself than just that, people seemed to lose interest. Not Twilight. All the boys teased him for his good looks. Not with any real meanness, but even the other heroes had noticed Warriors' looks.

It seemed Twilight had noticed more about him than just his charming smile and his dazzling blue eyes. Maybe it was years of being adored for nothing more than his face that made him a little sceptical. But when Twilight looked at him it didn't feel like he was being appraised anymore. It felt like Twi was seeing him, really seeing HIM.

Imposter : Chap 2 >

#legend of zelda #fandoms #fanfic #the legend of zelda #link #lu #lu chain #linkcest #link fanfic #duet #link hyrule warriors #twilight princess #smutt #zelda smutt #gay romance

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