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#the devil in my bloodstream
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Depression grabbed his throat
And choked the life out of him slowly.
I've got the same blood coursing through my veins
And it'll come for me eventually.
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The Wonder Years - The Greatest Generation
My great grandparents; Mario and Carolina Pulla, photographed sometime in the late 1940’s or early 1950’s. They immigrated from Italy after the war in search of a better life in Canada. Framing the photo are the outer edges of Mario’s Italian passport.
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sweetxvertigo · 9 months
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The Wonder Years - The Devil In My Bloodstream (@ LPOE Fest 2023)
I'm pretty sure I film this part of the song every single time I see them play it live because it always goes so fucking hard. Yesterday was no exception.
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stellernorth · 5 months
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I BET I’LL BE A FUCKING COWARD. I BET I’LL NEVER HAVE THE GUTS FOR WARRR
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prismravine · 5 months
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i wanna be strong
but it's not easy anymore
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betweenthelyrics · 1 year
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"And so I searched through my great-grandpop's memoirs
For the devil in my bloodstream.
Depression grabbed his throat
And choked the life out of him slowly.
I've got the same blood coursing through my veins
And it'll come for me eventually."
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i don't know what the amazing devil put in their music but whatever it is i want to eat it
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cameoutstruggling93 · 7 months
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Theres no devil on my shoulder, he's got a rocking chair on my front porch, but I won't let him in. No I won't let him in.
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originsofevil · 4 months
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I WILL BRING YOU RUIN IN EVERYTHING I DO, ITS NEVER MY INTENTION BUT IT HAPPENS ALL THE SAME ‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
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sofapup17 · 9 months
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Has anyone ever watched a show bc their fav fanfic writer wrote a fic for it? And then become irreversibly obsessed w/ said show?
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psaiint · 2 years
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RIN TAGS
「⑈」 tags 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 the only thing stronger than my head is my heart 🍲 main verse 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 light bearer 🍲 fc 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 obsessive thoughts that won’t let up 🍲 likes 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 i hear static when i close my eyes 🍲 aesthetic 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 when my mind is uncertain my body decides 🍲 quotes 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 i spent my life weighed down by a stone heart 🍲 wishlist 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 the devil in my bloodstream 🍲 rin 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 the person that nobody knows i am 🍲 musings 「⑈」
「⑈」 【 rin 】 dirty dirty crimes that are perfectly form fitted 🍲 head canons 「⑈」
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depression grabbed his throat and
choked the life out of him slowly
The Devil in my Bloodstream - The Wonder Years
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tteokdoroki · 7 months
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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly
Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.
And with that, good morning aali my love <3
-glasses anon
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.
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about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.
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what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale? 
gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light. 
“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.
you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”
you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you. 
“f-fuck.” 
“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by. 
clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.” 
“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?” 
“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all. 
“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.” 
shit. “yes… it does.” 
“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”
when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit. 
this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?” 
“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“ 
father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much. 
he feels like hell on earth. 
there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.
“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”
satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.
“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself. 
he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into  damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.
lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.” 
satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes. 
“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.” 
your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.
“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed. 
“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes. 
gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move. 
“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.” 
“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.” 
if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.” 
“see you next week.” gojo repeats.
and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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chaoticfandomthot · 1 year
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Wish i could eat music :/
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chvoswxtch · 11 months
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forgiveness
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pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle
summary: matt decides frank needs an attitude adjustment and uses you as a demonstration.
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
a/n: this came directly from my other head, if ya know what I mean (all puns intended).
word count: 2k
[part one: jealousy][part three: revenge]
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Matt could hear what Frank was doing to you from three blocks away. He had one of your thighs draped over his as you both sat on the couch, your hands bound behind your back with his favorite leather belt while his thick fingers strummed lazily through your folds like he was playing his favorite song. 
Not even the blaring siren from the fire truck racing down the street to his right could combat the sound of your breathless and desperate whines of Frank’s name for mercy. Jealousy still singed along Matt’s nerves, but irritation and frustration polluted his bloodstream as Frank’s previous taunt echoed between his ears. 
Hurry your ass up. Clock’s tickin’.
Frank appeared to have gotten too complacent over the past few months, taking advantage of Matt’s thinly veiled patience and sanctioned forgiveness. He had also gotten too comfortable, thinking because he laid with the Devil that meant he was safe from the hellfire.
Frank was due for a fucking attitude adjustment.
As Matt burst through the front door, both yours and Frank’s heads whipped around in that direction, surprised by his sudden and bold entry. The dark look on Matt’s face made you shudder, and Frank’s fingers paused momentarily, hovering over your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Well, ‘bout time you showed up, Red. Thought I said-”
In a flash, Matt had crossed the threshold in record time, and he was suddenly towering over Frank, his hand darting out to grab him by his throat. Matt’s fingers coiled tightly around Frank’s neck, squeezing hard enough that Frank’s eyes flew open in shock and he swiftly retracted his hand from between your thighs completely to grip onto Matt’s wrist. Matt tossed his glasses carelessly onto the coffee table behind him so that Frank could see the feral look in his hazel eyes that were a storm of lust and anger. He leaned in so that their noses were only a millimeter apart, the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing snarl as he bared his dazzling teeth.
“I don’t give a fuck what you said. You seem to have forgotten how to not be such an asshole, Castle. She stays home to take care of you, and you’re being a fucking tease. I call to check in, and you start playing with her pussy, knowing I can hear it over the phone. You seem to have come home with a fucking attitude, and we’re gonna fix that right now.”
Matt’s words caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, and if that hadn’t caught his attention, the fresh flow of arousal that seeped into the couch cushion beneath you certainly did. Matt let out a low growl in his chest that had your cunt fluttering and Frank’s hands clenching into tight fists. 
Frank’s arrogant mistake was thinking that Matt only let the Devil out behind the guise of his horns on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. But it took one night of relentless teasing for him to learn that the Devil and the man were one in the same. After experiencing just how unmerciful and vengeful Matt could truly be, Frank hadn’t made that error again.
Until now.
Matt roughly let go of Frank’s throat, his burning blank stare still fixated directly on his face.
“Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t speak.”
Frank’s lips instantly parted to protest, a deep furrow nestling between his thick brows, but another hardened glare from Matt coupled by his head tilting to the side in challenge had him grunting in response. Satisfied with Frank’s obedience, Matt turned his attention to you, his gaze softer as he knelt down in front of you, reaching behind you to free your hands from the confinements of Frank’s belt.
“Are you gonna behave for me, sweetheart?”
Matt’s breath was warm against your neck, and the feeling of his coarse facial hair brushing against your sensitive skin made you shiver.
“Yes, Matty.”
You could feel his devilish grin stretching across his lips as he pressed them against the juncture above your collarbone, delicately sinking his teeth into your skin as he inhaled your scent deeply and hummed lowly in his throat.
“That’s my girl. Let me take care of you, angel.”
Matt wasted no time burying his head between your thighs. He brought your legs up and over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping onto your hips to pull your cunt closer to his greedy lips, and he moved his tongue against your clit in a way that had you writhing uncontrollably. He didn’t bother holding your hips down and let you tangle your fingers in his hair to guide him wherever you wanted. In complete contrast to how he had treated Frank just mere minutes ago, Matt let you use him how you pleased, getting as much pleasure from it as he was giving you.
He could feel Frank’s eyes locked on his movements, hardly even blinking so that he didn’t miss a single second of Matt devouring your pussy like a man starved. He could almost taste the saliva building up in Frank’s mouth, knowing it was watering at the thought of your taste. The sound of Frank’s calloused fingertips brushing along the rough denim of his jeans towards the mountain that had formed in his lap caught Matt’s attention quickly. Matt quickly reached for Frank’s belt and snapped the leather harshly against the back of Frank’s hand to halt his movements, and a low growl laced with warning tear tore through his chest. The vibration of it directly against your clit nearly made you combust right then and there.
Before you could reach your peak, Matt removed his lips from your swollen clit, shushing you gently with his index finger against your lips as you immediately began to whine in protest. He rose up slowly from his knees and took a seat on the couch right next to Frank. He made a show of languidly unbuckling his belt, carefully tugging down his zipper, and lazily pulled out his aching cock while you and Frank watched with bated breath. 
Matt held his open palm out in front of Frank’s face and tilted his head in his direction slightly.
“Spit.”
The low and commanding tone of his voice went straight to your core, and it must have had the same effect on Frank, because he didn’t hesitate to do exactly what Matt asked. Matt collected the arousal leaking from his slit and used that in combination with Frank’s saliva to lubricate his cock as he wrapped his hand around his base and gave himself a few gentle strokes.
His lips parted into a cocky grin hearing the way you and Frank both groaned in unison at the sight. 
Matt patted his thick thigh as he motioned towards you with his chin.
“Come here, baby. Come sit.”
He didn’t wait for your frazzled brain to catch up with his command. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you onto his lap, spreading your legs wide open with your thighs draped over his own so that your knees were on the outsides of his. Matt wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“On your knees, Castle.”
“Red-”
“On. Your. Knees.”
The low growl that accompanied his words had your cunt clenching around nothing, and Frank let out a disgruntled noise before he stood up from the couch, only to lower himself onto his knees in front of you and Matt. You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest for Frank, seeing the look of absolute agony in his deep brown eyes. As you reached out towards him, Matt quickly gripped onto your wrist, his deep voice dripping into your ear laced with warning.
“No. This is his punishment.”
“C’mon, Red. Was only messin’ earlier. Wasn’t actually bein’ mean to her, or you.”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak, Castle. Give me your hands.”
Frank clenched his jaw tightly as he stared over your shoulder at Matt, his face a twisted up concoction of frustration and distress. Wordlessly, he offered his hands up and watched as Matt bound his wrists together tightly with his own belt that he had used to bind you.
Desperation was not something you could usually detect in Frank Castle’s voice, but it was pouring from his words, and you could see the despair glimmering in his big brown eyes. Matt seemed to ignore his defense, reaching between your thighs to grab his cock and slip it through your soaked folds, letting out a quiet hiss in your ear as your welcoming heat enveloped him. Your head fell back against his chest at the delectable intrusion, and Matt’s voice was hoarse by the time his cock was fully nestled inside you.
“You know the rules, Castle. Teasing sluts don’t get rewarded for their bad behavior. Only good boys get rewarded. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You get treated nice when you’re a good girl, don’t you?”
Matt had you completely at his mercy, his hands firmly gripped onto your hips, lazily moving his hips upwards as he fucked you slowly and purposefully. He had his chin resting on your shoulder, his nose nuzzled against your neck, pressing warm, open-mouthed kiss to your sensitive skin. The way his cock was dragging against your walls had already caused your brain to short circuit, and you couldn’t hardly focus on his words.
“Yes, Matty…”
Matt could feel Frank’s eyes watching the way his thick cock split you open, disappearing inside you over and over and over. He could hear the thunder booming in his ribcage, feel the heat that layered over his skin, and the way his index and middle finger twitched on his right hand, as if he were pulling an invisible trigger. Matt could also feel the way his massive cock strained against the front of his jeans, and he was almost shocked it hadn’t busted through the zipper at this point. He let out a low groan as the taste of Frank’s arousal weeping from his aching tip nestled in the air.
Matt’s teeth grazed along your neck, lightly nipping at your heated skin while digging his blunt nails into the flesh of your hips, his voice lowering to a dangerous octave in your ear.
“Tell him how it feels, baby.”
“Feels so good, Matty..”
The low whimper coated with anguish Matt’s ears caught from Frank cracked his stubborn resolve. Matt enjoyed teasing Frank, but he never wanted to torture him. He just wanted to get his message across.
Matt could never stay mad at Frank. 
“Think we should let him earn his forgiveness, hm? Think he deserves that, angel?”
“Yes…he’ll be good…be so good, Matty.”
Matt reached his hand out in front of him, and Frank immediately sought out his touch, nestling his face into Matt’s palm.
“What do you think, Frank?”
“Lemme make it up to ya, Red. To both of ya.”
Matt couldn’t help but grin devilishly hearing the lust melting from Frank’s pleading voice. His craving was palpable, and it made Matt feel a surge of power. No one knew how to bring the Punisher to his knees like him except for you.
He dragged the pad of his thumb along Frank’s plump bottom lip gently before roughly gripping onto the back of his neck to drag his face towards your cunt.
“Well go on, then. Earn your forgiveness.”
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042
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argreion · 4 months
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A Dance with the Devil
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WARNINGS: P in V, Leon being a little animalistic, small blood kink, FANGS- LEON HAS FANGS! A little fingering and humping. Leon regrets what he did. Dub-con and non-con(?) Semi-OOC Leon. Subtle breeding kink. Suicide mention. CHOPPY WRITING AND SHIT DIALOGUE TOO!
Val here - This is still KIND OF smutty, but I like fucking around with emotions. I like to just kind of get into the mindset, y'know? I hope you guys can still enjoy this! I might do headcanons abt my version of Las Plagas Leon. :)
Not proofread cause TIREDDD. Yay :3
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Imagine this...
Being forced to find Leon Scott Kennedy, the man who 'saved' Ashley. While sacrificing himself to the Plagas, as he would survive the island being blown to bits. Somehow can understand everything around him, unlike the people in the village. However, he's changed... for the worse.
Having his fangs bite into your shoulder, rutting into you. Blood down your back. Your top discarded—no, RIPPED into scraps on the floor. As was the broken Springfield XD on the floor. The box of ammo was torn apart, bullets scattered. Whimpers coming from your mouth as he would dry hump you. This isn't what you signed up for, trying to see where Agent Kennedy went. Was this even Agent Kennedy?
“I can read your mind, y'know?” He would purr, letting himself lap up the blood on your back. “Pretty, unsavory, all the reason to love it.”
This was an invasion of privacy, as you felt him delve deeper into your mind. Picking every single little memory, wet dream, embarrassing moment, anything he could use. As if you were laid out on an operating table, your skull cut open. Tools shoved in and out of it, taking every bit of your life away. That's what it felt like, being forced to stay still. Even as he just rubbed against you.
“Don't be afraid of me, doll. See, am I hurting you?” Uh, ya just did hurt me... You bit my shoulder! What the fuck!? You were bleeding, and he seriously just had to say that?
A shriek came from your lips as he pulled your head back. One hand on your throat, squeezing as his fangs trailed up to your jugular. Teasing a painful death, that would end in blood squirting from your throat.
Even worse, was when you felt him pry into your psyche more. This time, making your body freeze up. Forcing a freeze response on you, fear trickling slowly into your veins. Adrenaline accompanies that feeling as it creeps up your spine. Your mind screamed to move, as his hands struggled with your belt.
“No grites, amada, no duele. Sigo siendo yo, siempre he sido yo.”
What the fuck did he just say? Beloved? Love? Icky, disgusting, vile. Wanted to kill yourself, just had to grab that knife...
You attempted once more to break free of this little revolting mind game. Only to be met with a throbbing, stabbing pain. Images flashed in your mind as it felt like your sanity dripped so slowly from your body. Like that needle in Sleeping Beauty, instead, it would bring you an inconceivable amount of agony.
Tears came from your eyes as you could feel his claws meet your pants. Feeling them threaten to slice them apart, and oh so they did. Claws that you would say possibly an inch, now grew to be six inches. Ripping them, alongside your panties, off.
“Empapada. Perfect, you are my little breeder, la esposa perfecta.”
Chuckling as he would trace your folds, letting it seep in. Letting that dread seep into your bloodstream more and more. Stifling the moan as he would rub your clit. Cold claws against a hot pussy wasn't a good mix. Especially when the claws you speak of could rip you in half.
Rubbing you off, letting his claws go lower. Up and down, a coin trying to find its slot. Hit that jackpot with the insertion of his fingers. Making you cry, as it was relatively easy to find that spot. He'd have to thank Saddler if he were alive.
“Does that feel good? So tight, Haré que encaje.”
Please, stop mixing Spanish with English. You only knew a little, the numbers, hi, bye, all the simple-ass jazz. It was annoying as you couldn't understand him, but that was the point. He didn't want you to truly understand what was happening. Yet, you did, you were here to save him. Ashley already told her dad what happened, the dad to the lower, and the lower to the units. Commanded to find the agent, dead or alive. Yet, never said he'd be infected. She left that out... A genuine fuck you, Ashley, for that. You wouldn't have claws in your pussy if you knew about that. Would've taken the next plane back to the U.S.
Leon decided it was enough preparation, throwing you on the cold, rough ground. Stone scraping against your back and arms. Skinned, and still bleeding. At least he was kind enough to stop fucking with your body. Letting you use the adrenaline from earlier to push yourself up. Screaming as you were forced to take a knee. Footsteps coming after you, alongside the sound of a belt unbuckling.
“Don't run, little lamb. It'll be fine... There's no reason to be scared of me. It's paradise here, with me.”
With you? As if. The body that pressed against yours wasn't a paradise. It was hell, chaining you to the ground as he would grip your wrists together. A small rut of his hips as his head met with your folds. Lubricating himself for what's to come.
“Do you feel it?” He asked, letting his mouth caress your ear again. Claws holding your hips as he would gently, yet forcefully enter you.
“T-the dick?” You wheezed out, being met with a chuckle wasn't a good sign.
“No, of course not, little lamb. I mean, the squirming inside your veins already.”
What did he say?
“What?” You froze, turning your head towards him. Was that bite from him infecting you? Was that how he could force your body to freeze up?
“Do you feel my love? Do you see what I show you?”
Planned like always, images started to flash. Like a mind link that was forcefully shared. Images of Krauser, Saddler, Rámon, and many more could flash. Through their eyes, under the watchful eye of Saddler. An educated guess was that it somehow passed from Saddler to Leon. Now, throwing away most of the man's humanity for reproducing. At least he wasn't eating your organs, you've seen... Things.
D̵͙̲͔̻͚̋͐̊̀̚ȍ̷̢͇̀͋͗͛ ̷͈̈́̚y̵͎͖̤̅͠o̸̲̟͈̰͆̽̆̚u̴͈͂ ̶̢̱̺̹̠̄̀̀͘ś̸̙͑͂͛̊e̶̛̙͖̦̘̐̑̇̿ḝ̸͉̈̚͝ ̷̗̟̩̙͔̈͝ţ̶͇̦͍͐͂̑̓͘ḩ̵̛͇̍̊̾e̶͓̜̓͌͆ ̴͍̎̾i̷̩̟͌m̷̧̹̞͍̺̎͝ạ̷̭̣̭͒͌͋ģ̶̼͎̩̪̀́̄͗ę̷͍͘s̸͉̺͍̙̩̎?̸̼̜̈́̿͑͗͋ ̴̜̒̌Ď̵̢̰̣̜̠o̵̠̐̎͒ ̵̫̖̲̬͌͐̚y̵͔͔͙̠̩̋̓̀̈́́ő̵̖̊̓ụ̴̡̡̘̔͌ ̷̥̄͂̍̈́ś̵̥̣̼̃̍̄̂e̸̮̗̣̰̩̋́̓͋e̷̳̓͋ ̴̡̘̭́̈́͋ͅt̵̢͍̉ḥ̸̨̥̗̰̉̑̓ė̴͇͘ ̶̞̤̈͋͗͝p̷̧̫͚̯̾̊a̸͓͋̃̽̐i̸̞̟̬̐n̸̲͚̞͐̓͝ ̶̭̙̤̳͖̈̅̉͛͝t̶̤̦͋̾ḧ̵͚̺̪̔̐e̸̺̲̒ͅŷ̵̖͇͈̖̈̌͝ ̴̬̙̞̉͐̓̑͘h̷͈̻̲̰̭̃ạ̷̧̠́̊d̷̬̔̏͝͠ ̴͇̟̦̅̎͘b̵͇̦̗͕̀̓̈́͌̚͜e̴̢̬͌͘͠f̸̡̧̠̉͂̓̽͜ǒ̴̟r̷̨̢͕̥͐̒̎e̸͕̠͉̖͆̒ ̸̡̯̙͎̒̈́͂̕t̶̫̞̗̼͊̆̾h̷̪̥̹̥̿e̴̤͈̐y̸̘͔̙͖̮͊ ̴͖̟̦̘̫̈́t̷̢͎̼̘̳̃u̷̩̎̎̎͠r̴̘̗̬̣̊͊͒n̴̺͆̄͗̚e̸̺̱̳̩̽̉ḓ̷̗͊̾͊͘?̴̙͛̈́̓̋ ̵̟͈͎̅͜I̸̝͛͛̾s̴̱̩̟̼̲̆̓n̵͈͇̼̳̰̆̑̎͘͠'̵̧̢̻̽̉t̵̡͕͑́̇̌͠ ̴̨̻̺͎͓̏̿į̴̛̻̪͓̐͆t̸̡̩̙̏́ ̵̪͐͋͐́l̴͎̖̥̺͛ǫ̷̯̲̹̚v̷̮̠̲̜͗e̴̢̩̭̺͋̾͐̎l̴̝̮͕̞͚̑́ŷ̸͖̗̮̗͗͜?̵̨͕̹̂
You could only scream, struggling against him, as he continued to show you image after image. His words burn into your mind, lighting the fire in your mind. Cinders turning into dead bodies, bodies to 'paradise'.
All while this happened, veins started to creep up your body. A soothing feeling as your mind began to calm down. The images would no longer burn, as his thrusts wouldn't burn either.
Thrust after thrust, the squelching of your pussy. Plagas ruining through your veins, submitting to its whim. All while that monster stared at you. Fangs bared as he'd use your very body to create something he wanted.
The actual question was, did he even know what he was doing?
Deep in his subconscious, you could feel it. Connected by that parasite he stuck inside you. Seeing a shivering little boy, turning to that eager rookie for his first day. Growing into a stoic man after seeing the horrors of the world. His stage was lonely, as was his life. Watching as his hands no longer became his own, veins covering his body.
Watching as he would turn to you, eyes scared. Afraid. Afraid of what was happening. An agent, trained to be someone who protected you against horrors. Scared to fight it, terrified as he became it. Startled as he raped you into the ground.
Moaning outside your mind, praising a good lamb for being so willing. Leon hunched over your body, hugging you to himself. Tears came down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. Screaming at himself for this, why was his body doing this? A sick pervert. Would God even accept him into the heavens? How would he atone? Sure, he didn't pray often, but he hoped someone was watching him. Mom, Dad, even an old friend, someone.
“Accept this, please,” Leon begged, thrusts becoming more forceful. Moans fell from your lips as you accepted this. Both of you were fucked over. The two of you to be lambs of slaughter. Fucking the pain away, and using the Plagas as a drug. A drug that helped you forget the pain of life.
You could only scream again and again. Fingers digging into his forearms, with one hand to support both your weights. Sweat dripped down your face as you worked yourself.
Leon's courteousness was nice, at least the generosity he could sneak through. Feeling him somewhat lift himself off your body so you wouldn't become a human pancake from a muscular man.
“Que Dios nos salve.” He let out a final breath, halting as he would press you back down into the stone. You couldn't speak well, overwhelmed by what had happened in a mere thirty minutes of being here. Well, technically hours, but thirty minutes with him.
The bubbling in your uterus didn't help, as you felt something be inserted. Followed by a soft burn with a bulge. Fucked, implanted, impregnated. Couldn't even register the burn. Thinking it could've been your vagina screaming at Leon to pull out.
Hearing Leon let out a grunt, and his boots thudding against the floor, caught your attention. Turning your head to see him struggle to come to terms with what he had done. Veins faded from his arms, and his eyes lost that sinister look in them.
“Are you ok?” You asked, still laid out on the floor. Honestly, with the way things are right now... The stone seemed better than standing.
“Yeah, I'm good.” Was his reply, the thudding of his boots growing louder. Till they came up behind your head, halting. A hand reached out to you.
“¿Necesitas ayuda?” Leon paused, coughing as he corrected himself. “I mean... Do you need help? It comes randomly at points. Part of preserving memories.”
“Preserving memories makes you speak Spanish? Are you sure it's not just you spewing out random Spanish words?” I mean, you've never heard of something making someone change their language. Unique. Also, freaky since it possibly rewired his whole brain.
“Not my choice.” He chuckled, before noticing the bite mark on your shoulder. Mentally wincing at the fact he bit someone. Reminded him of RC heavily. “Sorry about the bite, too. Not my choice either.”
Leon gently sat you up, a hand on your back. “I'm surprised they sent an agent after me. Do they know I'm...?”
“They do.” You answered, already knowing the question he would ask. No doubt, he probably was curious why the government was here, Probably for the remnants Las Plagas.
“Not surprising.” He mumbled to himself, letting his fingers comb through his hair. Worrisome. It had only been months, and they were coming after him. Was it good? Yes. Was it bad? Yes. They'd test on him, use his blood, just like they did with Sherry. Probably did something like that with Manuela, too.
As you let him be by himself, you reached for the knife on your waist. Only to be stopped by yourself. Your mind began to ache again, and Leon took notice.
“I'd recommend not trying to use anything that can be a weapon, at least for a week.”
“Why?” You asked, before noticing he didn't even have any weapons. “Did you try...?”
“Of course I did, who wouldn't try to kill themselves? It's a given at this point.” He stated, bluntly. At least he tried to be reasonable. Seeing the look of utter defeat in his eyes hurt a little. Watching as he would try to think of something for you. Pushed you into a corner and hurt a poor lady. Mom would kill him for that if she was alive, too. Manners, Leon, manners.
“Do you want my jacket?”
A small wave of sheepskin entered your peripheral. Leon was turned away in an act of respect for your 'indignity'. Perhaps blushing a little, poor guy didn't jerk off often. His compression shirt was dirty, covered in dried blood, mud, and probably a bit of shit. Forced to deal with his mess, even for a clean freak.
Gently taking it from him, feeling the texture in your hands. Nice. Expensive. He must've liked fancy coats, 'cause this was one. Sliding it over your body was... Warm. It was warm. Comforting, reminded you of home. Made you look up at Leon, watching as he walked back and forth.
"T-thank you?" You chuckled, pulling the jacket closer to your body. Huddled in it like a newborn baby. Your 'mother' clearly stressed out.
"Wait, why'd you infect me?"
You could hear the small sound of his boots rubbing against the stone. Like nails on a chalkboard.
"Do you think I want to do this?" He enquired, staring down at you.
"Clearly not, but... It's a question. Am I going to be like you?"
A question he couldn't actually answer. Judging by the way he stood there, just staring.
"Let's not worry about that, for now."
Really? Ok, look, you're fuckin' stranded. He's been infected for months. He literally just raped you, apologized, and now it's awkward. What the hell are you supposed to do? You can't literally grab a knife, your mind doesn't even want you to grab a knife. It physically freezes you from it.
Secondly, you can't even try to get help. What do you tell someone like Hunnigan? Your F.O.S. agent? Someone in AMERICA? Oh, I'm infected and found Leon S. Kennedy infected too! They'll kill you!
It made you wonder why you were forced here. Was it supposed to be a scheme from the government? They knew Leon was alive, or supposedly, from Ashley. Now you're here with him.
"Did I get fucked over?" Asides from the dread from earlier, another type of dread settled in. Did they just fly you out here because you should've been killed? The government was always corrupt, but you didn't do anything at all. Not you can recall anything unusual...
"Yeah, you did." Leon answered, a small look of regret in his eyes.
"I'm sorry you're stuck here with me forever, now."
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Honestly got really fucking tired writing. So sorry for the ending too, btw. nbfiecdswhcnj
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