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@becomelions
⸻ BECOMELIONS : an independent, selective, and mutuals only multimuse blog of various canon and original characters featuring from: Marvel, AOSIAF, Fast & Furious, DnD/BG3 , and many more. Primarily headcanon with canon influence. Written by Olivia ( or Liv she/her ). Blog is strictly 20+ due to mature themes, DD:DNE. Est. November 2019.
CARRD | INTEREST TRACKER | PROMPTS
also found at : @m1dfielder , @razorfst & @wolfskrieger
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉 ; though despite most ardent wishes words do in fact ring true . she is fond of the man , has grown as close as one of her kind may find themself to caring about him . but no closer has she grown to admitting anything of the sort . ❝ is this how you go about proving me wrong ? ❞ queries with impish condescension , ❝ running your mouth as soon as i give you the ghost of a compliment ? ❞ but despite her candor , the smirk which graces siren countenance is entirely coy in nature as one slender digit reaches forth toward urian’s chest . trails down the center of a chiseled sternum , landing with a poke just above his navel . ❝ and furthermore , what makes you think i give a rat’s ass whether or not you’re fond of me , too ? ❞
were the question not answered with merely the look in her eyes , certainly the hellhound will find resolution within sudden , frenzied lip lock into which the demon tugs him . breathless sigh curls hot into the gesture , palms groping frantically at any inch of the man within her reach . ❝ you’re fucking unbearable , ❞ nearly growls , though timbre entirely undercut by lust , and need , and just the smallest hint of affection . ❝ don’t know why you use your mouth to talk so much when i can think of a thousand far preferable uses right now . . . ❞
continued for @becomelions' urian
Urian couldn't help it, he always had to push buttons and test the waters of the tolerance of those he interacted with. It never mattered their power or position, that was just what he did. If one asked him, he'd argue it was part of his charm. His brothers would disagree. He can see what it does to her and, of course, he never bothers to change it. Maybe part of how it irritates her is also how they end up in the situations they did. "Yes it is and I think it's working out just fine." He counters, unbothered as he sees the smirk dance upon her lips. It was all a part of her teasing, he knew that by now. Urian doesn't even move, half leaning in to her touch until she pokes him. The surprise sensation making him chuckle and slightly jerk back as a hand moves to rub over the spot. "I don't know, maybe I thought you should hear it too." There's a wink with his words, once more testing the waters with her as he often did.
And he could see it was just enough to make her close the gap between the two. Arms wrapping around her to keep her close as lips meet in a heated kiss. "You love it." He counters, chuckling into the kiss as he presses her against larger form. Both nearly trying to egg the other one with the wandering of hands and the passion between words. "I'm listening then." He says, now lifting her up in his arms so legs could wrap around his waist. This time carrying somewhere more private as he pins her back to the nearest wall. "Tell me what you think my mouth can do for you." He nips at her bottom lip, pulling it slightly with his teeth.
@coeurdefoudre
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation S08E08 ‘You Kill Me’
continued from x — @becomelions
Head tilting slightly for a brief moment, a jerk of a movement, Jaina pressed the side of her hand quickly to her lips, holding back the laughter that seemed apparently more ready to burst out of her than she thought. ❝ Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe they were pranking you? ❞ She could completely see some of the other pilots withholding information as a means of hazing the man without getting pulled up by their collars, especially if said pilots thought he would pass both tests. Sounds like yet another issue she would have to track down. To imply that the Resistance was so lax with their protocols for starfighter assignments wasn’t exactly the impression any of the commanders wanted out there. ❝ To confirm, we do need to trust you, but that trust gets you the opportunity to test, not the other way around. ❞
❝ Oh, you’ll know what to shoot for, I promise. ❞ Her eyes sparkled, corners crinkling with her smile. ❝ Not knowing the content is part of the test. ❞ And here it goes… Uncrossing her arms, Jaina held out her hand once more, unable to help her lopsided grin. ❝ I suppose I should fully introduce myself. Commander Jaina Solo, Twin Suns Squadron Leader. Next time, I’ll make sure you get to test. ❞
A chuckle left him as head shook. "Yeah, I'm pickin' up on that now." He says with a sheepish smile, brown gaze casted down for a brief moment before lifting back up to her. Hazing wasn't something he had entirely anticipated but maybe he should have. Maybe they needed to find some lighthearted fun in all of this and Nick couldn't blame them. However, he did feel a little ridiculous about it all and at least it was to her. Maybe. He still should have known better, he thinks and mentally he does curse himself a bit for it but he tries to at least hide the embarrassment as best he can. "No I know you need to trust me, I never questioned that." His hands shift to rest upon his hips rather than crossed over his chest. "I want to earn that trust to test. I do. I just need the opportunities to do it and I suppose this is it." His hand lifts to point behind him to the cargo.
A small chuckle left him at her answer, maybe he should have seen that coming too. "Ah, I see how it is." He shrugs, though he hadn't expected at all what came out of her mouth in the next moment. Nick feels himself fighting the urge to turn red as he realizes maybe this wasn't who he should have turned to with all of this. Hand extends to give a firm shake as his own head moves from side to side. "I should have known that too huh?" His lips pull into a wide grin. "A pleasure and an honor to meet you Commander Solo. Nick Stokes, and I appreciate that greatly."
And do not fail again.
𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆 , though enough of it gleams from behind the stoic gaze of her mentor and love that the younger demon offers little more than a pout in response to his words . little more . ❝ that’s all you have to say ? after i made this beautiful artwork for you ? ❞ palms lift before her , digits sparkling with a crimson sheen as they reach once more for the countenance of her maker . this time , however , scarlet pout finds not lips but the column of his throat , sanguine trail left in the wake of each hungered nip and kiss . ❝ what if i don’t want to go yet ? ❞ bends suggestively at the middle , plucking her new toy from the ground and presenting it beside her own head , thumb and index securely braced against each side of the mouth .
❝ don’t go , ❞ pantomimes , puppeteering the severed head as though made merely of cloth and sticks . ❝ ili wants to play ! ❞ delivers the softest kiss to lapis brims , before once more tossing aside the still warm head and entwining bloodstained digits . ❝ don’t you want to paint with me ? ❞ a streak of red , from slender shoulder down across supple breast , embellishes the facetious query as one thin tank strap falls over pointed elbow . tugs the other down to match , then opts to roll the fabric down and entirely off of slender frame . ❝ such a pretty pigment , this ink i just made for us . . . i would love to see what kind of art you can create , with me as a canvas . . . ❞
continued for @becomelions' sebastian vasquez
He was proud of her, how she had turned into such a deadly creature from his own hand. Words couldn't describe it and he didn't entirely try to either. Even his own expression showed little more than what his words could convey. And he knew in the end that would be something that didn't settle well upon the other demon. "You are more of an artist than I anticipated, though I am seeing how wrong I was to think otherwise." He answers, letting her hands wander. "It is beautiful." He says, head only tilting slightly as she moves closer and places lips upon exposed skin. Jaw tenses at the sensation of her lips and nipping of her teeth against tanned skin. He knew what she was doing and yet he was doing nothing to stop it. Even as she moves away and bends down to tempt him further. Something else he should have seen coming as she practically begins to puppet the head in her hand. He can't help but roll his eyes as she begins before own head shakes as he takes in a breath.
Not that he was fighting much of anything she was doing. Maybe a part of him thought if he let her get this out of her system then they could leave. A maybe is all it was, in reality he knew better than that. Jaw tenses this time, dark eyes looking her over as she begins to paint herself in dark crimson before the tank top is discard and he's left with her exposed chest. Hands curl into a tight fist but what fight in him is gone, lunging forward to take one hand around her throat and the other tightly in her hair as he pulls back to aim her head up to him to claim her lips in a hard, passionate kiss while the other hand tightens around her throat. No doubt she knows she won now, not plans to leave as he moves to pin her against wooden frame of nearby destroyed structure with his body as he lets bloodied hand around her throat squeeze just tighter to match the heat of the kiss.
@coeurdefoudre
can bey looking mighty good 😏 ↳ Episode 023; Erkenci Kuş
"We have not stayed in the Red Keep since my father's funeral." Not him, no. Laenor Velaryon is who he means, and even to ghosts, admitting the truth they would know is too difficult, particularly in these times. Akin to admitting that they do not have the right to rule, that his mother's choices invalidated their inheritance, when his future claim came from her place in the succession, not his father's. "Almost ten years ago." There was no need to sugarcoat things for a hallucination or a ghost - the truth of life was already harsh enough.
"It was Viserys' way of punishing us, for a fight gone too far." Maiming Aemond had never been their intention, only protecting their youngest brother at the time, but their actions needed consequences. And now that the war had broken out, and his mother's throne usurped, he can finally see the fruition of that punishment. Had they been in the Red Keep when his grandsire had passed, there would have been time to act. Instead, they had been ignorant on Dragonstone, only informed via raven, a generic missive sent to the great houses of all of the realm, a slap in the face, over a week after the death of the late-King.
"I am here to speak with Daemon. He is meant to be raising an army in the Riverlands, and he is refusing to answer any ravens." A pain, his step-father, at times. His hands are gripped in fists at his side, irritated by having to make the journey, and nauseous at the sight of Harwin Strong standing before him. The resemblance comes forth much more powerfully now that he is older, and only makes him resentful, though he cannot feel that towards his mother now. He must be seen as her staunchest supporter, never wavering. He has the appearance of his mother in many ways, but it is almost like looking into a mirror when presented with the man long since dead. "And then I will leave."
Brows furrow, almost a moment taken in by the ghost to realize what that had meant. Laenor was dead? How long had it truly been? Sure he was seeing Jace older before him but he knew how Harrenhal could play tricks on the mind. Only, he was that trick now wasn't he? Trapped within its very walls from a death many years ago it seemed. No doubt the expression alone on the face of the former knight was what brought about the time being said. That and the fact he seemed angry still, looking at him and Harwin could not blame him. It seemed not many things had changed since the other was a child. "Ten years...." He repeats, nodding as he takes in a breath as a hand lifts to run through brown curls and remove them from his face before looking back at the other.
More information leaving him unprompted, but it seemed only bad news was all it was. Fate, it seemed, deemed to give his sons and those he loved a rather difficult life. A part of him wonders if it would have been better had he lived or would it have only complicated things further. Thoughts not said aloud, the other angry enough as it was that he felt it better to keep that more to himself. "I'm...sorry to hear that." It also explained several things, why Jace was here and not Dragonstone or the Keep. Why, who he thought was Daemon only for it to be confirmed, was in his home. Some days he remembered he was dead, others he found it was harder to remember. This had been one of those until he saw Jace. The memory of time passing slowly seeping into his mind.
"I thought I saw Daemon once...." He says, speaking up. "If I can remember....." Harwin pauses, this time brows furrowing in thought as he now runs a hand over his beard. "He had his own demons to fight within these halls. Everyone has a reason for what they see here, I remember Alys saying that when I was a child...." He looks back to Jace, his own poster straightening up. "You are no doubt making your mother proud, look at you doing what you can to ensure her right to the throne. I know what I say may not matter much to you anymore but I am proud to see it. You have grown into a fine young man. I am lucky to see even a glimpse of it." He pauses a moment before continuing. "And I understand your want to leave immediately."
❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ ( wanda mayhaps ? for nate )
He was getting used to being around others again, people who weren't wanting to use him as a weapon. Well, at least that was what they told him. His trust could only go so far. What mattered the most, however, was they weren't HYDRA and he was trying his damned best to not fall back into their hands. They were supposed to help with that. Still, he found himself not trusting them. He didn't trust anyone and he felt it was safer that way ever since he became free. And maybe that was why he had wandered off, wanting to be alone as he looked out at the dark sky. Leaning against the wooden frame of the would be safe house, he was able to take in the stars. Though it was a voice that broke the silence, gaze on the sky broken as eyes squeeze shut a moment. Nate doesn't look back at her, but he knows she's there despite his lack of an answer in the moment. "They sent you to talk to me?" He finally says, looking down a moment and then back to the sky. "Or keep an eye on me?" Now head turned, icy blue eyes locked onto her. "I'm not going anywhere, they don't have to worry about that."
An Assortment of Dialogue Prompts | Accepting | @coeurdefoudre
blog roll ! if you're ever curious where to find me aside from discord and my main boy here? then let me show you where i can be:
@becomelions - multifandom multimuse @m1dfielder - sideblog to here, sport oc @razorfst - razor fist mcu/headcanon based @wolfskrieger - cursed berserker oc
Bloody and bruised Max Martini
Eilean Donan Castle, Scotland (by Mathias Reding)
𝒑𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 for such a drastic change in design , timid shrug lifting the shoulders of a typically cool and collected musician . ❝ oh , uh , you know . . . i just think it would look better with more , you know ? plus , i really like your work the more i see of it , so . . . i trust your vision . ❞ all to avoid speaking aloud what the singer truly wishes to say : the tattoo artist has caught her eye in more than one manner .
slender brow lifts with impish challenge as he continues on , glossed brims pursing as siren gaze narrows . ❝ you think i'm too weak to sit that long ? ❞ grills sternly , timbre dripping with dry facetiousness , ❝ s'it because i'm a woman ? ❞ brash eye contact held for mere seconds longer before dissolving into a fit of tittering laughter . ❝ yeah , i mean it . think you'd be surprised by how much i can handle , ❞ adds with a wink , strutting over to the bench to take her seat and await the beginning of her new design .
continued for @becomelions' nikolay kozlov
It was slightly surprising to hear about the sudden change, that and it be larger than the original piece. But she was the client and he wasn't going to complain about spending just a little more time with her. Her answer made a small smile tug at his lips as he started to nod. "Thank you, that means a lot to hear." He still wanted to be sure this was something she wanted, that she wasn't going in over her head despite the compliments paid in his direction. He sees, as soon as the words left his lips, that he had brought about a challenge to the other. But then her question leaves him and head shakes immediately. "No, no, that's not what I meant." He chuckles slightly, a bit nervous until she laughs and a breath of relieve can leave the artist. "I just wanted to be sure." He smiles back, shifting back to his template to begin his work.
He takes her suggestions in mind, adjusting the design a bit to work everything in and give her what he thought matched what she suggested. It took a little but but once he sat back and looked it over, he was pleased with it. Though he had to be sure she was too. And so he gets up and brings the template over to her. Around the flowers were decorative leaves that worked with the flow of the stream of the layout and the flowers along with added decorative pieces that one might see in a vase with the flowers. "Does this work?" He asks, showing her the template and waiting for the reaction of his client.
@coeurdefoudre
‘Easy.’
A soft tsk escaped his lips in response to Rumlow’s reflexes, the raised hand not really surprising him. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally end up punched for his troubles. ( There was a time and place for playing roughhouse, and fighting HYDRA wasn't one of them. ) No, he preferred Rumlow to direct his powerful punches toward the enemy, where they would make a difference. Rumlow had done well, he had to admit. He had carved a path through their outer ranks and sent them scattering.
‘If you say so. This time let me go ahead, you take any stragglers.’
He nodded at the keycard, allowing him to open the door. Without hesitation, he flashed inside, a blur to the human eye. ( Within seconds, he was among them, moving with lethal grace, his hands snapping necks with the ease of breaking twigs. ) Any thought of leaving them alive was nonexistent; to him, HYDRA were HYDRA, a remnant of a past he had no affection for. At least these days. Anyone with any decency had deserted their ranks when they’d had the chance after the initial fall. Anyone who was left? Free game.
He had been shot and stabbed, of course, but it didn’t stop him, didn’t slow him down. ( He hauled one of the agents up against the wall, his voice a rapid torrent of angry Russian, ignoring their feeble attempts to reason with him. ) His annoyance was palpable when he heard the sickening snap of cyanide, and the agent began to foam at the mouth.
‘Fucking coward.’
It wasn't like he was planning on punching him once he realize who approached. It was just his reflexes that brought up the reaction in order to defend himself should he need it. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. Not that the other couldn't have handled it, he was sure once one punch flew that he would register the familiar face of an ally. Muscles relaxed, letting him roll his shoulders after the slight exhaustion from the small battle he had taken part in was over. But it wasn't the end and he needed to stay loose and that was what he was trying to do. It was why he asked if they were ready to go, ready to move on so the adrenaline wouldn't wear off as they went forward. However, he wasn't entirely a fan of going in second but he understood to a point. The other was more durable than the agent himself.
Still, he a mumbled curse in Italian leaves his lips. He could thank his father for that knowledge. But he doesn't argue, instead moving forward and flashing the keycard against the reader to unlock the door for the other. Brock lets him go forward, moving through the carnage the other had left behind in his wake. Anyone who groaned or mumbled was met with a swift end with a blade on Brock's end. Eventually he catches up, seeing the other holding a man against the wall before they took the classic way out of most higher up HYDRA agents. Moving over to the other, he takes hold of the now dying man and tosses him to the ground. "Shouldn't surprise you." Brock says as he then steps over the body and moves towards the doorway.
"I'd say you didn't leave much for me to clean up." He looks the other over, seeing the blood that clearly came from various wounds. "You alright? Need to be patch up before we go further?" Rumlow questions but he doesn't move towards him, instead moving towards the door to hear if there was movement. Not hearing anything yet, he looked back towards him. "Sounds quiet, we're almost at the computers if you can hold on a little longer."
𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒 as 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐇𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐃
Vikings. Season 5, Episode 2.
