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sorcerous-caress · 2 years ago

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could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

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quiurifam · 3 months ago

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➶➶➶➶➶ 𝕂𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕒𝕠 𝕆𝕟𝕖-𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥 ➷➷➷➷➷

𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅

Kung Lao(MK1) x afab reader

Warnings: NSFW; Mentions of face sitting; you can't convince me Kung Lao isn't the PussyEater3000

✶➶➶✶➶✶➶➶♨♨ • • • • •♨♨➷➷✶➷✶➷➷✶

‘I'm going to sit on your face tonight ♡’

Eight simple words, written in a cute glitter red gel pen, with just eight words on a paper you had managed to take over his whole morning, day even. You had stuffed the note in the pocket of his jacket when you briefly met in the morning before going to work. He didn't know what he expected but it definitely wasn't that, he was quick to put it back in his pocket before Raiden could get curious and take a look at it.

Now he was trying to carry on with his day and work, keyword being ‘trying’, ever since he read the note he couldn't focus on anything else, his imagination running wild and his excitement too high to control. He was counting the seconds for nighttime to arrive and it was pretty obvious even for the other men working there that his head was nowhere near the fields, some making jokes about how he was basically tripping over his own feet and not paying attention. He had to make an excuse for it, this fling you two were having was new stuff and not really public yet, and unfortunately for him that meant no bragging about getting laid by his hot not-yet-lover, but he was sure with his charms he would get to call you lover soon enough.

He still remembers the first time you two slept together, late at a night out, a few drinks in, he offered to take you home and when you arrived at your house it didn't take long for things to get hot and heavy. Ever since that night Kung Lao had only one thing in his mind, and that thing was you, he just couldn't help himself and you weren't helping him either! Every time he thought he had pulled himself together you were there to show him how much of a sucker he was for you, sometimes with just a look or a smile, sometimes with teasing comments that would drive him crazy, you're playing with the man's sanity.

When no one was looking, Kung Lao took the paper out of his pocket again, the cute choice of pen did not fit the sexual words on it but it only made him crazier about it. He could imagine it already, your thighs smothering his head as he is laid down on your bed, you pussy dragging, grinding over his mouth and nose over, and over, and over chasing pleasure, using his face as if it were a toy made for you. He would be able to taste you like he never had before, so close. He would do his best tonight to make you lose yourself so much so you'd forget to hold your weight and fully drop onto him, he could suffocate on your thighs for all he cared, that was his goal for tonight and so it would be for everytime you decided to sit on his face.

“Kung Lao?” He snapped out of his thoughts quickly stuffing the paper back in his pocket. “You're really out of it today huh? Been calling you for a bit now…” Raiden took note.

“It's nothing, what do you need?” He redirected the conversation, not as smoothly as he thought, but Raiden didn't insist on it anyways. He is a smart and observant man, who is to say he might not have already figured it out between you and Lao?

The man went back to his work, knowing unfortunately that there was nothing he could do to accelerate time, waiting anxiously for the moment in which he could finally have you...

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #kung lao #mk1 #mortal kombat smut #x reader

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punkpandapatrixk · 1 year ago

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❣️How Abnormal Are You in Love? ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

Don’t be too hard on yourself with this PAC. Everybody in this world’s pretty much abnormal anyway. We all want something that’s extremely rare in this world: Love. Sometimes, we go crazy after mistaking shit for Love. But we all heal. Eventually, we all learn to love more healthily and sanely. And really, that’s all that matters. The crazy is also part of the character development~♥︎

☆♪°・.

‘Hey, actually, when was it that I began to realise that there’s no such thing as forever? Even so, I’m prouder than anybody else about the fact that the days we spent together were at least not a lie.

Even though it’s true that the length of time we have lived is only slightly different, just the fact that we met, that we loved, though we may never love each other again… I won’t forget.

Hey, why do I still want you by my side, thinking that I won’t do without you, even though this is hurting me so much? Even so, I became a person who could be grateful for the smallest things in life. It’s because, even the most casual of words were so meaningful between us.

Because we met, because we loved, though we may never love each other again…I’ll be fine with turning all of it into proof that I’ll survive, whilst facing all of truth and reality.

I’m just glad that we met. I’m just glad that we loved. Though we may never see each other again… I won’t forget.’

☆♪°・.

Those are words from Ayumi Hamasaki’s legendary song, LOVE ~Destiny~. At some point in Life, Ayumi said in an interview, ‘I loved one man so much that I destroyed myself.’ I can’t help but think this song could be about…it? Maybe hahah Just a vibe, gals~♡

SONG: LOVE ~Destiny~ by Hamasaki Ayumi

MOVIE: Snakes and Earrings (2008)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – What I Can’t Let Go Of, Really, Is My Pride…

VIBE: kiss by Chara

what is, Love? – 4 of Swords

Well, it seems quite obvious your past was somewhat chaotic. I think throughout childhood you felt like you were crossing a battlefield or had to fight the stormy seas all by yourself. Because of this, you deeply crave a Love that can put an end to all of those noises. In fact, it’s only fitting. Deep down you’ve always known that Love is something that’s pure, sweet and gentle; that it’s supposed to put you at ease. You understand that the world is in chaos because nobody has Love in their hearts.

You, never wanted to be like those grownups who were fighting with their own spouses. Even if you’re young, you feel like an Old Soul—the only one who seems to truly understand what Love is and is not. And you see that 99% of people literally don’t know what Love is, let alone how to love right. And you’re afraid. What if you can’t find that one person who can love you right?

Deep in your subconscious, you have these standards and ideals you desperately want to maintain. But nobody you’ve ever met seems to understand where you’re coming from. What you want is something so pure. People are rarely pure of heart, so nobody gets it. And it feels incredibly lonely. And at some point, you might’ve begun to doubt if your standards are even fair…

why do you chase, Love? – King of Wands Rx

So you grew up a bit and began to wonder what might happen if you lower your standards…a bit? You want to experience passion, right? You’re seeing all these peers around you kissing and holding each other and you crave that, too. You know very well it’s not like they’re in love—they’re just silly, infatuated, hormonal fuckers; but you wonder how it would feel to be intimate with someone. To actually have someone want you like that. To be wanted. To be held. To be kissed. To be…loved. No matter how shallowly.

Now you’re willing to look for someone passionate. You could try with a puzzling character. You like that kinda shit. Any kind of an intriguing fucker with some semblance of a mystery; making you curious to dive deep into their side of crazy. How do I figure out your particular brand of bullshit? Anybody you can’t immediately figure out would excite you to a point of insanity. And you thought this was happiness. You thought, this level of excitement surely must be happiness. Perhaps…even Love? Otherwise…

How do you explain this feeling that suddenly strikes, rattling your heartstrings, making you realise that there’s somebody in this world you’d want to care for other than yourself? Just the idea that you even fantasise about growing older with this mysterious fucker… How is this not, Love? And if this isn’t Love…what is? How else are people supposed to know happiness if this excitement alone isn’t enough?

what happens when Love, dies? – 8 of Cups Rx

To begin with, you’re not one to trust easily. It takes a lot for you to allow someone to see your vulnerable side. And when you go in, you go all in. It may not feel like it immediately because you’re cautious, but once you’re in…because you feel sure of someone…you’re in deep. Too deep it feels like you’re drowning in this whole situation, if anything. And you’re proud of how much you’re able to give.

And…you’re generally proud of your boundaries and the standards and ideals you’ve imposed upon yourself and others. So, the fact that you’ve given so much, revealed so much to someone who wouldn’t be there for life, is beyond frustrating. It’s world-shattering, at least. What have I been in this situationship/relationship for if it ain’t gonna last?!?! I can’t just let it die like that! Maybe I’m doing something wrong?! I must’ve! Lest none of this would’ve happened…

When Love dies, it feels so shameful. It’s a shame you trusted the wrong fucker. It’s a shame someone was able to see you that vulnerable. It’s disgusting that you thought this was The One. What was I thinking? Now everything becomes clear. It’s not the loss of that person’s Love you’re crying about. If you’re being honest now, you couldn’t care less that such a loser’s gone from your world. If anything, it’s such a relief. It was just the shock from knowing you made a mistake that made you cry… It’s OK now.

MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻💜

sacrifices I’d made – Green Magus (John Magus)

I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Ambition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – I Can’t Tell If I’m Passionate or Just Immature

VIBE: Boys & Girls by Hamasaki Ayumi

what is, Love? – Ace of Pentacles Rx

To begin with, you’re not exactly a rational person. Not saying you’re dumb! You just have a lot of passion for something that’s unexpected or foreign. You like mysteries and you aren’t afraid to dip your toe in uncharted waters. This desire could’ve developed from having a childhood that felt constricted tho. I think you grew up surrounded by so many rules and laws and forbidden things and that’s how you developed a taste for, DANGER~

It’s exciting, from time to time, to think about throwing all your caution to the wind and breaking all rules. You want to disappoint. If you’re being honest, you’re damn tired of following everybody’s whims and concerning yourself with their expectations. What about what I want?? You want to live. You want to feel alive. There are so many exciting things outside of your everyday Life, why can’t you have any of that? At some point, you could’ve dreamt of being rescued from your Tower by a handsome daredevil of any kind of a fucker.

If that fucker happens to be handsome and rich, even better. But that doesn’t really matter. You just want someone brave enough to approach you and actually uproot you from your boring Life. Surely, Love can do that to a person…? I don’t need stability, let alone predictability; what I want is a romantic hero who’ll take me on a grand adventure of Love! And if that daredevil happens to be dumb…

why do you chase, Love? – 9 of Swords

In many ways, you’re totally not an innocent person. You want to hurt. If whoever daredevil tries to fulfil your fantasies of being rescued from your miserable Tower happens to be dumb, you’re gonna be having a field trip! XD You want to terrorise and traumatise a person, really. It’s vengeance for all the years that you were serving others. Now, it’s your time to be served. It doesn’t even matter if they don’t worship you. You’re ready to find another dumbfuck to toy with. You’re hardly ever sincere anyway~

Why bother with sincerity? Ever since you were a kid, you’ve observed that none of the adults you knew was ever sincere. What even is Love? I think you know of it conceptually. But what exactly is its purpose? What exactly is so good about it? And how? How exactly must one be in order to attain it? You don’t believe in it some days. You deeply crave it some days. You could die for it some days. You want others to die for your Love most days.

Life is confusing. Love is confusing. Sex is easy. Money is easy. Food and jewelleries are easy. Let’s live easily. Life is exhausting if you think too much about everything that could go wrong. I’m done feeling terrible about my own existence, so I want someone to spin me around and make me forget. That’s ideal. Is generally your motto when chasing… Love♡

what happens when Love, dies? – 8 of Wands Rx

You don’t care about it. You don’t particularly care about losing people. It’s expected. If anything, because you’re never serious with quite anybody anyway, ghosting is the best way to go about it. You’re the type to ghost, block, and you don’t even mind if you’re the one ghosted or blocked. Basically, you just don’t want any contact with someone you’ve lost interest in anyway. So that only makes it easier for you.

In many ways, I think you sometimes regret being this kind of a callous person. There are days you wonder if you’ll become someone more sincere. You’ve wondered what it would take to actually love someone. To actually be loved back. Surely that must be so nice. You want to be happy, honestly. But it feels like a distant daydream. You don’t particularly understand how two people can be happy living together. After all, you find people exhausting most of the time.

All you know is that you’ve lived with yourself for the longest time. And if you have to compromise or sacrifice anything…you’re not willing. You’ve sacrificed shit before, a looong time ago, and you got nothing back in return. You gave someone a rose and they gave you back thorns and strangled you with it. Surely that can’t be happiness. Two people who don’t know how to love can’t be happy together. Life is better lived alone.

MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻❤️

sacrifices I’d made – Red Alchemist (John Dee)

I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Damn, Why’s Everybody Crying for Love?

VIBE: Sunglasses by Utada Hikaru

what is, Love? – 2 of Cups Rx

Uhm…you’re a comical Pile for sure. Your psychology is so complex, although it’s also super straightforward (to you), but some people are not gonna have an easy time figuring out if you’re sincere or not. Most of us have got a lot of exposure to tragical romance, right? A lot of people get deep and insane in Love. And here you are wondering why everybody’s crying for Love. Why is everybody suffering in the name of Love? That’s not Love. People are silly for falling continuously for the wrong people. It’s all a Game for them. Me? I don’t play games.

But you do! Everybody does when it comes to falling in Love, to various extents. That’s what’s really fun about falling in Love. If you could face yourself, you’d realise you have a bit of a God-complex within this context. In the sense that…because Love and romance actually aren’t such a big deal to you, and somehow, you have an almost all-too-natural inclination to attract the right people, you can’t really empathise with those who cry in the name of Love.

For some though, if the above doesn’t really resonate, you’re the type that has an innate understanding that you must protect yourself from falling into those tragical romantic setups. You have a highly developed sense of boundary and you keep high standards for what kind of a romantic relationship you want. You’re kinda similar to Pile 1 in this case, but you most likely haven’t experienced sacrificing your standards for, EXPERIENCE~

why do you chase, Love? – 10 of Wands

In comparison to certain types of people in the world, you’re not exactly a dreamy type. When it comes to relationships you think straight towards building a matrimony with someone. You’re a traditionalist in a sense. You’re the based kid who knows that a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship is a training ground for a marriage. You think long-term. You’re realistic like that. But the problem is…you’re totally missing out on the passion of Love itself.

You don’t really see your partner(s) for the person—the Human—that they are. You care only for the practical, pragmatic facts surrounding their reputation or status or whether or not their physical appearance is decent enough. Stuff like that. And the dreamy ones who look at you, look at you with a pang of sadness in their chest, for although you seem responsible and blessed…you appear to them as someone who looks at another with an eye of business.

You’re the type that thinks love is an investment. An investment of attention, affection, time and money, and all that shit. That’s not Love; that’s something to be exchanged at the market. The dating market, OMG~

‘Freedom and love go together. Love is not a reaction. If I love you because you love me, that is mere trade, a thing to be bought in the market; it is not love. To love is not to ask anything in return, not even to feel that you are giving something—and it is only such love that can know freedom.’ – Jiddu Krishnamurti

what happens when Love, dies? – 6 of Pentacles

When Love dies, you celebrate. You’re wise enough to know that Life doesn’t end just because you broke up with somebody, even in terms of friendship. You’re spiritually mature enough to know you’ve learnt from the experience, and now, you’re just going to prepare for the next big thing to experience. Life goes on without a hitch like that for you, for the most part. I can’t tell if you’re really that spiritually mature or you just don’t give a fuck about emotions LMAO

Not saying you’re a bad person, btw. It just seems like you haven’t got a lot of crazy in your birth chart or that you haven’t experienced a lot of sorrows and soul-shattering heartbreaks, so…it’s kinda just a matter of not having, PERSPECTIVE? Coupled with the fact that you take Life very unseriously seriously…? Like, you’re serious about not being an asshole and wanting to do the socially right thing, but in doing so, you become an annoying insincere jackass in the lives of those who have (or will) dated you XDD

Basically, you’re not the type to get super crazy heartbroken when a relationship ends. You’ve got all of these other blessings anyway. Why would you focus on just the negative, right? In a sense, I believe that’s an incredible spiritual maturity which others are still struggling to figure out XD But yeah…rather than this being something abnormal about you, I think it’s just that your Higher Self designed for you not to experience the dramatic highs and lows of immature romance HAHAH

MY HEART, MY PRIDE🔻🧡

sacrifices I’d made – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

I’m glad I was able to love – Priestess of Luck

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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huffelpuff210 · 5 months ago

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mob stucky x child reader

Summary: you are only seven years old but always run away from your home because of your brother what happens when you catch the attention of your brothers rival mob,

You ran passing people, you were only seven but your brother was a mob leader but he was terrible, he had no morals or honor, if he didn’t like someone’s answer or the way they spoke her would shoot them dead,

You were constantly his target, abusing you, not feeding you, locking you in a room for days,

You always ran away when you got a chance, always on the streets, most of the locals know you, his henchmen on your heels, you quickly look around in a panic, you see three men looking at you suspiciously as you looked around in a panic you see a nice looking car, you run towards it rolling under the car just in time when you hear the men out of breath,

“can I help you?” You hear

“This is our turf.” Another voice

“Tell Damian if we catch any of his men here again we’ll have no choice but show him how serious we are,” a voice says

“Y-yes sir,” one says running off

You roll out from underneath the car and started running, you had to keep going if your brother catches you again you knew you couldn’t afford being caught again ever since your parents died mysteriously your brother took over the business,

No one wants to business with him most of the businesses cut their ties with him,

Bucky, Steve were standing outside their office building discussing business with Tony when this small girl in a hoodie that went past her knees and a pair of grey leggings some old worn out shoes she looked around in a panic as she skidded on the stones, her dark hair was whipping around as she looked around without hesitation she ran to Tony’s car rolling under it all three men found this odd but when they seen who was chasing her it made a bit more sense a bit,

“can I help you?” Bucky says

“This is our turf.” Tony says

“Tell Damian if we catch any of his men here again we’ll have no choice but show him how serious we are,” Steve said with malicious to his voice

After the men ran they see the girl was gone when they checked under the car,

But what they were all curious about is why they were after such a small kid, she didn’t look older than three, then have seen you a few times but didn’t really bother you but now they have a feeling something was going on,

with just a look Bucky understood what Steve was signaling and he left,

It was past noon when you finally stopped for a break it was a bunch of food trucks and fruit stands, you were peeking from behind a motorbike looking at the food,

“Grab what you need..” you mumbled

You hated stealing but it was why your brother kept you around, sneaking into small places only you could fit, stealing and gathering what he needed, and gone without a trace,

You took a deep breath bumping into the plumb stand on purpose but,making it look like an accident,

The fruit falls to the ground,

“I’m so sorry,” you say picking them up and pocketing a few

“That’s quite alright dear,” the old lady says with a smile

You hated stealing but you had to, In order to survive,

Little did you know Bucky was watching you and how skilled you were with pocketing the fruit, this made him smirk,

as you quickly rushed out of the area and into a alleyway you took a bite of the plumb relishing in the taste you cannot remember what your last meal was,

After finishing the food you were leaving only for someone to grasp your bicep, you swung your foot into their shin only to hear a grunt,

You look up seeing a man with dark hair and icy blue eyes

You stomp on his foot as hard as you could, he grunted loosening his grip you quickly yank your arm out of his grip running as fast as you can,

Bucky watched as you ran seeing your dark hair sway from under the hood of the hoodie,

He smirked,

“I’ve got you in my sights now little fox.” He smirked

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kyufessions · 4 months ago

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uncle jay

synopsis: you and jay are hosting yet another birthday party at your house for one of the members kids

pairings: older idol jay! x g.n. reader

word count: 1.0k

genre: domestic fluff

a/n: haven’t written anything in a bit so please be nice to me lmao. also, all members are older (think of minimum 30). enjoy ✨

The sound of children’s laughter echoed through the backyard, the chattering of adults and splashing water accompanying it. It was just another day over at uncle jay’s house with his devoted partner by his side. You were inside with sunoo and his significant other, adding the finishing touches to sunghoon’s twins birthday cake as you caught up on life. While jay played outside with the kids, chasing them around as they ran from ‘the monster with the bubble blower’. You would occasionally look outside and catch glimpses of the scene, making your heart ache with warmth and longing. Thinking no one would notice your looks, you kept your feelings inside. But sunoo was always very nosey and attentive.

“Have you guys ever thought about having children?” sunoo asked, his voice nonchalant as he sprinkled some edible glitter onto the lilac frosting.

Your eyes widened, and you spared him a glance of surprise as you added flower sprinkles carefully around the sides of the large heart shaped cake. “Straight to the point, huh?”

“Dont be around the bush.” he says, putting down the glitter on the counter and leaning against the island counter. “Any time we bring any of our children over, you always have that same look. And you don’t hide it well.”

Sunoo’s partner nudges him, giving him a look before meeting your eyes. “As blunt as he’s being, we are curious. I know i haven’t known either of you for long, but you both seem to love children. In my eyes, both of you seem like you’d be beautiful parents. Do you guys not want any?”

You put your flower sprinkles down with a sigh, then turn to face them both. But not before looking outside to see jay being tackled by a group of five children. His laughter can be heard even from inside, along with the children’s, and from a distance you can notice the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. Your heart flutters before you snap out of the daze and look between sunoo and his partner. “Honestly? I wouldn’t mind it. But i don’t know how he would feel about it.”

“He seems to really love being around our kids, why would having his own kids be any different?” sunoo questioned, shrugging his shoulders.

“Because being uncle jay and being daddy jay are two different things.” you sigh, looking down at the ground for a moment to collect your thoughts.

“You don’t have to care for your nieces and nephews 24/7 like you would your own child.” sunoo’s partner chimes in, putting their hand on your arm and rubbing it soothingly.

You look up to meet their gaze, nodding in agreement then playfully nudging sunoo with your foot. “Exactly. With my bakery and all, i know i could always make time for the baby but what about jay? What if he’s content with being an uncle? What if he doesn’t want children? What if-”

“You never know unless you sit down and discuss it.” sunoo interrupts, offering you a gentle, reassuring smile. “But you two aren’t getting any younger, you know. You should probably have that talk sooner rather than later.”

You shoot him a look, one that causes all three of you to burst into a small fit of laughter. You all then decide to put the finishing touches on the cake before notifying the parents and kids it’s time to sing happy birthday.

The rest of the party goes by in a breeze. All the kids enjoyed the cake, sunghoon’s twin girls gawked over all their gifts while the other kids splashed around in the pool or enjoyed the left over candy and food. It wasn’t until almost one in the morning when everything was cleaned up and everyone had left. Before sunoo left, he gave you one final look that you knew all too well. Later that night, you and jay plopped down side by side on the couch with an exhausting grunt escaping his lips. His arms subconsciously wrapped around your body, holding you closely as your head nuzzled into his chest. You both say in silence for a few moments, just thinking over everything from today. That was, until you both broke the silence at the same time.

“I think we need to talk.” you both said word-for-word at the same time, causing you both to laugh tiredly at the coincidence.

“You go first, sweetie.” jay speaks, tucking a hair strand behind your ear as his eyes meet your gaze.

Inhaling deeply, you grab his hand and intertwine your fingers before speaking up. “Would you ever want to have children? You know, of our own?”

Jay thinks for a moment, then a smile creeps onto his lips. “How’d you know I was going to bring this topic up? Did jake tell you?”

You shake your head, the corner of your lips upturning into a subtle grin. “No no, i had a talk with sunoo and his partner.” a sigh escapes your lips as vivid images from earlier replay in your mind. “Seeing you playing with their kids, it just makes me want to have some of our own. Or even one would suffice. I just- i think you’ll be a great dad, is all.”

Jay’s smile grows brighter as you speak, his heart racing at your admission. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand as you speak, and he continues to do so as he responds. “I’ve been thinking about having kids lately, too. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” he the brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your middle knuckle before continuing. “I want kids too. Although being uncle jay is fun, i want to be a dad, too. Especially with you by my side.”

You grab jay’s face in your hands and begin peppering his face with kisses, making him laugh at your actions. He stops you midway, placing his larger hands on top of yours and pressing his forehead against yours. For a moment, you both sit there in blissful silence before your lips meet in a tender kiss. It eventually turns into a semi-heated makeout session, occasional whimpers and groans bouncing off the walls. It isn’t until you both pull away for air that he speaks up again.

“Why don't we practice? Practice makes perfect.” jay then lifts you up effortlessly, holding you bridal style in his arms as he walks upstairs to your shared bedroom.

#kyufessions enha #enhypen #enhypen jay #jay x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enha fluff #jay fluff

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mochiwrites · 1 year ago

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Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

#mochi writes #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #don’t mind me just sobbing and wailing #they make me SO???????#the softness. I am Melting

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justnatoka · 1 month ago

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I love poly!lost boys x werewolf!reader (especially if it's GN) but don't feel pressured of course, I'm curious what ur take would be on it :)

The boys with a werewolf partner

The Lost Boys headcanon

A/n: I'll be honest, I've never written about werewolves before, and I don't read about them all that often. I can consume vampire media all the time, but I need to be in a certain mood for werewolves. So hopefully this turned out somewhat okay haha. I know this is basically a one shot, but I like it so much more in headcanon format for some reason. It's also not as polished as I would usually go with my one shots, it's more like a bunch of ideas that happen to fit together into a somewhat cohesive story lol. So it stays in headcanon form, I hope that's okay. Thank you so much for the request, and hope the length makes up for the long wait! Enjoy!💜

Warning: mention of losing control, a minor killing spree and gore, reader acting like a cornered animal at first, mention of reader having a difficult homelife

Summary: The boys find a lone wolf who wandered into Santa Carla, and decide to take them in.

The boys knew something was up when the number of deaths in Santa Carla suddenly rose from seemingly one day to the next. And they knew this because, surprisingly, it wasn't them killing off the townspeople for once.

At first Max thought his boys went on a rampage and gave them a lecture. Even after they told him it wasn't them, he still didn't believe it at first. I mean the bodies were torn apart, and that's kinda what they do.

So the boys decide to investigate and find out who or what it is, even if just to stick it under Max's nose out of spite.

Since all the bodies were found in the woods, that's where they decided to go the next night.

As they trekked through the trees, Paul and Marko was fooling around, pushing and shoving and teasing each other as they usually did, with David's patience wearing thin, and Dwayne watching how much time it will take for him to snap at them.

Just as he turned around to give them a piece of his mind about how this is really not the time for playing games, a scream tore through the silence of the woods. That's when they realized what they hadn't noticed before – that the woods were unusually quiet that night. Which only could mean one thing: a predator was in the area. And for once, that predator wasn't them.

More screams followed the first one, then something they haven't heard in the woods of Santa Carla before – a howl. They shared curious glances and pushed on forward.

As they got closer to the source, the screams slowly died down, and by the time they reached the little clearing between the trees, there was complete silence.

The light of the full moon lit up the scene before them: four bodies strewn around a campfire, torn apart, with blood and gore everywhere. And in the middle of it all, a wolf.

It was bigger than any wolf they've seen before, its fur matted with blood both dried and fresh, and as it spotted them, it let out a guttural growl. They instantly knew in their bones that it was no ordinary animal.

"Holy shit," Marko muttered.

"Fuck me, is that a fucking werewolf?" Paul whispered, his eyes wide as he looked at David.

"It is," their leader confirmed.

"What do we do?" Dwayne asked, eyeing the wolf as it started pacing, keeping its distance but snarling at them.

"I don't know," he admitted, looking slightly unnerved, which made the boys even more jittery.

They all knew what the bite of a werewolf could do to them. And it seemed the wolf knew exactly what they were and what they could do if they ganged up on it. So with a final snarl, it ran. Not wanting it to escape and continue its murderous rampage – and risking their exposure by bringing more attention to the supernatural goings on in Santa Carla –, the boys followed.

They chased the wolf through the woods, sometimes losing it from sight and relying on their ears to listen for it moving through the underbrush, then spotting it again. This went on for quite some time until it eventually seemed to slow. They saw it stumbling ahead of them, its movements becoming sluggish, until eventually it collapsed on the ground.

Looking up at the sky, they noticed that morning was not far away, meaning that the effect of the full moon was likely wearing off.

The wolf raised its head to the fading moon and let out a howl, which soon turned into a whimper. When Marko took a step forward, it snapped its attention back to them, growling and snarling at them to stay back. The dangerous edge slowly bled out of its voice however, as it started whimpering again, then the boys heard a crunch.

The wolf howled in pain as their bones snapped and mended back together, blood matted fur turning into blood splotched skin, features becoming more and more human, voice losing its beastly undertone and turning into human groans.

The boys watched on, fascinated by what they were witnessing. They've never seen a werewolf before, let alone a werewolf turning into a human. Despite their reservations against the species, they couldn't help but feel sorry for this poor creature, the transformation clearly incredibly painful.

Before long, there you stood in front of them, leaning against a tree, panting heavily as you rode out the last few painful tremors going through your body.

You looked up at them then, the fear evident in your eyes. Your mind was still hazy, as it usually was just after your transformation, the events of the last few nights a blur in your memory. Except for the blood and the screams. You remembered those well enough.

The boys took you in, your body full of scratches, hair a ruffled mess, your clothes hanging off your body in blood-soaked, tattered pieces. You watched them with wide, fearful eyes, clearly out of it, but aware enough to know what they were and how bad they could hurt you in your weak and vulnerable state if they decided to do so.

Still, there was just something about you, something they couldn't explain that peaked their interest and drew them in.

Paul was the first to say something.

"Damn, what a babe," he whistled, and the others couldn't help but agree. Even in your roughed up state, you were undeniably attractive.

"Morning is coming," Dwayne reminded them.

"So what do we do with them?" Marko inquired.

After a moment of thinking, David answered.

"We'll take them with us."

You knew you weren't in the position to say no. Even if you tried to run, the last few days have been hard on your body and you likely wouldn't get far. And for some reason, you had a feeling they were not gonna hurt you.

With that being said, you were still taught from a young age that vampires would not hesitate to kill you if they got the chance. These kinds of instinctual lessons are hard to shake, so when you all arrived to the cave they called home, you quickly retreated into a corner. That's where you stayed, refusing to move, growling and snapping your teeth at them every time one of them got closer than you liked.

It was Paul and Marko who first managed to make you warm up to them.

Marko would get an extra portion of food when he went out, and after handing out the rest to the boys, he delivered it to you himself. You didn't let him close at first, snarling when he approached, so he set the takeout box down at a safe distance, and backed up with his hands raised. When you deemed he was far enough, you snatched up the box and retreated to your corner, sniffing the food he brought you.

"Don't worry, sugar, I'm not gonna poison you," he smiled, amused.

You just levelled him with a suspicious glare before digging in, and Marko's grin grew as he watched you scarfing down your food.

He never forgot to get you something to eat when they went out, even if they had their fill with just human blood. And you slowly let him closer, until you started taking the box directly from his hands, even giving him a small appreciative smile as you did so.

Paul would sit cross legged – at first at a safe distance of course to not aggravate you –, and try and ask you questions about yourself. Who you were, where you came from, why you were alone and not with a pack. You stubbornly stayed silent. It didn't seem to bother him though, as he was talking enough for the both of you. He told you about Santa Carla, about the boardwalk, about the shenanigans they got up to.

Before you knew it, you started anticipating when they got back for the night, because that meant Paul would come over and blabber on about what they did that night with a big, bright smile.

Dwayne was the one who got you new clothes – likely stolen from one of their victims, but it didn't really bother you. You were just glad you could wear something that wasn't soaked in blood and torn up. He set them down in front of you, flashed you a small smile and went back to whatever he was doing.

It was something so small, but at the same time so meaningful. It allowed you to be presentable again, to look like a person and not just some filthy animal. You felt warmth in your chest as you inspected each piece.

In the early hours of the morning, after they all seemed to settle down, you sneaked out of the cave to wash yourself. You could have waited until the sun was fully up, but you were eager to finally get all the blood off of your skin.

That's how it happened that when you made your way back to the cave, you found David still awake, waiting for you at the entrance.

You stopped in your tracks. You weren't sure if he wanted to see whether you would bolt or not, or if he wanted to make sure you didn't fall on the rocks, as you were still a bit shaky on your legs. His eyes were unreadable, not giving anything away, but they weren't cold. In fact, there was something warm in his gaze that you couldn't quite put a finger on.

He always did that. Always silently watching your every little move, but it didn't creep you out. In fact, it felt reassuring. Like if you showed any sign of distress or pain, he would knew in an instant and would be there to help.

After looking at you for a moment longer, he turned his back to you and walked into the cave. You watched his figure disappear into the darkness, then followed. By the time you reached the room that used to be the hotel lobby, he was already gone, likely retreated into one of the chambers further inside.

The next night, when they walked out into the main area of the cave after waking up and saw you, clean and in the clothes Dwayne gave you, Paul let out a hearty laugh and a whistle.

"You cleaned up nice, babe."

You tried to ignore the rather presumptuous pet name, but it was hard when they were all looking at you like that, like you did something good, like you were something precious. You could feel your face getting hot.

You noticed that they paid a lot of attention to you, anticipating your moves and seemingly growing more and more fond of you.

When you first told them your name, Paul almost lost his shit. He was talking to you as usual, when in a short lull of his blabbering you blurted it out. He looked at you wide eyed, a grin slowly creeping onto his face.

"What did you just say?" he asked and you repeated it.

You flinched when he jumped up and started screaming with the biggest grin on his face, calling the boys over and excitedly telling them that you just told him your name. They looked so happy that you finally seemed to warm up to them, you couldn't help but return their smiles.

Thanks to Marko making sure you were eating properly, you started getting back your strength. Soon, you were walking around the cave when they weren't around.

As you were getting better, you sometimes wondered why you didn't take off when they went out or when they were sleeping in the daytime. At first, of course, it was because you were very weak. That full moon was rough, and you were extremely exhausted. But then, by the time you were growing stronger and could have gotten out whenever you wanted to, the boys managed to weasel their way into your heart. You didn't want to leave. You had nowhere to go to anyway.

You got used to Paul's big mouth, Marko's chaotic energy, Dwayne's reassuring presence and David's warm eyes that always seemed to follow you around.

Because by that time, you were walking around when they were there too, joined them when they were hanging around the cave, curling into the corner of the couch or lounging in David's chair. One night after falling asleep stretched out on the couch, you woke up to David sitting beside you and stroking you hair. In your half asleep brain you didn't even hesitate to lean into his touch. That's how they figured out that you like to be petted.

You talked to them too. Just a few words at first, like thanking Dwayne as he passed you a takeout box or asking Marko what he was doing when he tended to his pigeons. Then more and more, and in the end you were having full on conversations with them.

It was during one of these conversations late one night in the cave that the topic of your past came up. You went really quiet all of a sudden.

You didn't want to give away too much, but you told them that you had to get away from your pack. Some members of your family loved you very much and they begged you to stay. But others made being part of the pack very hard. You were never good enough, and they never failed to tell you that any chance they got. You were bullied relentlessly by members of your own family, who were supposed to protect you and have your back. You got into some dangerous situation due to them not caring about what happened to you. So you left, and you ended up wandering into Santa Carla.

Once you started, there was no stopping the words from coming out of your mouth. You told them that this was your first full moon without your pack. You were on edge – since you were taught that a lone wolf is easy prey –, and extremely lonely, which led to you losing control. You usually knew exactly what you were doing when you were transformed, you had absolute control over your body. But this was different. Your voice was shaking as you told them how it felt like the wolf inside you took charge, and you could do nothing else than look on from the back of your mind, not having control over anything, so you just turned away. Even then, certain sensations broke through – the screams, the feeling of blood splashing onto you. And so, people ended up dead.

The boys listened, understanding. They knew what it was like, being a runaway. They could also sympathize with losing control. All of them could remember what it was like when they were just turned, still getting used to their strength and learning about the hunger, how strong it can be, how hard it is to resist. Each one of them had lost control at one point or another, some of them more times than others.

So in turn they told you about what it was like to be turned, how they all came to be part of this family after Max took them in, even some bits and pieces about their human lives that they still remembered.

And in the early hours of the morning, not long before the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, you fell asleep on the same couch you've been spending so much time on lately, nestled between Dwayne and Paul, with David and Marko settling down close by.

Something changed between you after that night. A bond has formed over your shared experiences, and you could feel it growing stronger every day. You knew they could feel it too. They seemed to move closer, linger around longer, touch you more often than they did before.

It was never said out loud, but it was clear that you were staying for good. The little touches turned into caresses, which turned into kisses, which turned into more.

Now you accompanied the boys when they went out. They explored the boardwalk with you, Marko excitedly showing you his favourite rides, Paul chatting about where you can get the best food, Dwayne holding your hand when the bustle of the crowd got overwhelming, and David sending death stares to everyone who so much as looked at you.

You felt more loved and cherished than you've ever been in your life.

They still went to feed without you, the rampage you went on and the bodies you've left behind still too fresh in your memory. You didn't mind it though, just accepted it as something that came with the life you've had with them. You were certainly not in a position to judge.

Before you've even realized, a month has passed, and the next full moon was looming closer. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. You were pacing the length of the cave, gnawing at the hem of your long sleeve – a habit you seemed to share with Marko –, and worrying about what would happen. What if you lost control again? What if you end up killing some townspeople like last time? What if this time you hurt one of them?

Two arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a solid chest. David's voice rumbled in your ears as he told you that everything will be alright. And as he kissed the side of your head, you almost believed him.

You all agreed that after your transformation, the boys would follow you from a safe distance. Not too far so they could step in if something went wrong, but not too close either so they wouldn't be in the immediate danger zone. That seemed to ease your mind a bit. You knew that no matter what happened, they would be there for you.

It hurt them even more now when the time came and they had to watch the transformation, your pained cries and the sickening crunch of bones snapping pulling on something deep inside them. Paul almost stepped in, but Dwayne stopped him, not being any less affected than his brother, but knowing full well that in that fragile state until it was over, you would be even more likely to snap at them and do something you would later regret.

After it was over, you stood before them, again, as a wolf. There was a tense moment when you just eyed each other silently, the boys looking unsure of what you'll do. But as you walked up to David and started nosing at his hand, they knew you were alright.

What followed was quite funny actually. Paul couldn't contain himself anymore and asked if he can pet you. When he buried his fingers in your soft fur, he looked like he could cry from happiness.

Marko was quick to follow, running his fingers up your back to the top of your head and you nuzzled into his hand. Then you've received the best belly rubs ever from Dwayne. Even David indulged, and there was a fond smile on his face as he scratched your ears.

Finally, you stood at the mouth of the cave, looking out into the darkness. The boys eyed your intense stare curiously. You were listening. It was as if you were called by some strange instinct that urged you to go and greet the moon, to bath in its light. The darkness of the forest was calling with an excited buzz. And you were eager to answer.

With all the noise you've made that night, you were sure that humans steered clear of the woods. The sounds of howling and laughter and joyful screams filled the spaces between the trees. You knew you were in good hands, so you let your instincts run wild.

You've raced through the woods with the boys by your side, challenging each other with subtle glances. Marko even started wrestling with you after he was sure that he couldn't really hurt you, not in this form. It was exhilarating, the feeling of true freedom, one you've only ever known in your very early childhood years when everything was much more simple.

That night you didn't lose control – and you never did after.

The next day you woke in the cave, in the middle of a pile. It seemed like you've managed to exhaust yourselves out enough – the perks of having the stamina of supernatural beings – that after you got back you all just crashed on the couch.

It was still sometime in the afternoon, too early for the boys to wake up, so you took your time looking at them. Dwayne's head was pressed into your shoulder, so you started to gently run your fingers through his hair. He let out a hum, but didn't stir, which you were grateful for.

As you took in their features, you thought about how much you can really be grateful for. What are the chances that you stumbled into this exact town at the time that you did? What are the chances that against all natural instinct of both your species against the other, they decided to take you in and you decided to let them? What are the chances that everything worked out so well? You've known for a long time that the odds were against you, yet here you were, in the arms of your lovers, more content than you've ever felt.

There was one last hurdle that you had to move over however, before you could officially be part of this family. And that was Max.

You've heard all about him from the boys, of course, but you've never actually met him in this first month of you living at the cave. That was quite purposeful. They knew Max would flip his lid if he heard that his sons adopted a werewolf, especially if he found out that you were the one that brought potential danger on them.

They couldn't delay the meeting further when Max showed up at the cave that night unannounced.

He looked quite unassuming with his patterned shirt and silly glasses, but some deep animal instinct told you not to be decieved by his appearance. The way the boys scrambled to their feet and subtly or not so subtly positioned themselves between you and him also told you everything you needed to know. If he saw it necessary, he would hurt you without question. And even though you were stronger than an average man even in your human form, you weren't sure if you could win in a fight against an old vampire such as Max.

"What's the meaning of this?" he questioned, his eyes zeroing in on you, and you saw a flash of yellow as he realized what you were.

"Max, let me explain," David started, but Max cut him off.

"You can't just bring a werewolf into the space where you sleep. Even you can't be that foolish," he snapped at them. You wouldn't want to be in David's place as you watched Max glare at him.

"They needed help. And they are really not like other werewolves, they didn't even try to attack us once," Marko chimed in.

"And they didn't hurt anyone this time," Paul added, and now everyone's attention was on him. He shrunk back a bit.

Max was quietly seething.

"You mean to tell me, that this is the one who slaughtered so many people at the last full moon?" His voice was eerily calm, which was even more scary than if the started shouting.

"Well- I-," a quick glare from David shut Paul up instantly.

"The point is, they are no danger to us or anyone else. They won't cause any trouble," David declared, staring back at their maker with defiant determination.

Max seemed less than convinced. Then after a long moment while he looked at each of his sons and finally at you – the way you held onto Dwayne's hand as he stood in front of you protectively not escaping his attention –, he let out a defeated sigh. It was the sound of a tired parent dealing with their demanding children.

"Fine," he relented. "You can keep them. But if I see any sign that they are a threat to what we have here, I won't hesitate to remove them," he warned. He didn't have to explicitly say it, it was loud and clear what he meant. Dwayne's hand tightened around yours for a moment.

"Keep them on a tight leash," Max threw back over his shoulder as he walked out, and you bristled despite everything.

After he left, you couldn't stay silent anymore.

"I don't like him."

David snorted. "Welcome to the club."

Max seemed to take all the tension with him, as the cave felt a lot lighter now, the boys exchanging satisfied glances and smiles.

Paul threw an arm around your shoulder. "Now it's official, you're one of us, babe." And he pressed an affectionate kiss to the side of your head.

"You know what this means," Marko said, a huge grin on his face, and as you looked around, they were all wearing the same expression.

"It's party time!" Paul screeched into your ear. You cringed slightly, but their excitement was contagious.

A little while later, while sitting behind David on his bike, your arms wrapped tightly around him as you sped towards the boardwalk, a warm, tingling feeling spread out in your chest. It was happiness. You've found your new pack.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl @darlingnikkisixxxx @skrimblo-blumpkgo @wpdarlingpan @gibzzsworld @thelostboysforeva @vxncevis @thelostsimp @sireanmagne @acotar-lover @unwhollywater @fanofgunsnroses @swagfancroissantpizza2

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#tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #tlb paul #tlb marko #tlb david #tlb dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys david #the lost boys marko #the lost boys dwayne #tlb headcanons

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serapharua · 1 month ago

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୨୧ 一 HYBRID ENHA’S IDEAL HYBRID PARTNER

enhypen 0T7 — GENRE : hybrid au imagines headcanon — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING none — REQUESTED : yes ☆ — enha masterlist

note : AAAAAAAAAAAA

HEESEUNG :

I genuinely think a bunny hybrid would be an ideal match for Heeseung because their personalities would complement each other in the most natural, fulfilling way. Bunny hybrids are gentle, soft-spoken, and incredibly thoughtful, traits that align beautifully with Heeseung’s calm, introspective nature. He’s someone who values patience, emotional maturity, and quiet strength, and a bunny hybrid embodies all of that without being overwhelming.

What makes this pairing even more fitting is how bunny hybrids tend to be independent and hardworking beneath their innocent appearance. Heeseung is deeply attracted to people who have personal goals and chase them with quiet determination, he’d admire that quiet resilience and feel motivated by it. Bunny hybrids are also known for being clean, well-groomed, and attentive to their well-being, which checks a major box for Heeseung, who values hygiene and personal care.

Even aesthetically, a bunny hybrid would align with what Heeseung seems to prefer: a partner who dresses simply but takes pride in their appearance, has a bright aura, and carries themselves with quiet charm. The dynamic between them would be subtle but powerful, gentle affection, mutual respect, and a sense of peace when they’re together. It’s the kind of love that grows slowly but lasts a lifetime.

JAY :

For Jay, I think a cat hybrid would be a perfect match. Cat hybrids are naturally elegant, independent, and quietly confident — all traits that align with what Jay seems to be drawn to in a partner. He values subtle beauty, personal style, and someone who’s emotionally mature but still knows how to be playful, and that duality is something cat hybrids embody effortlessly.

Since Jay prefers to take his time getting to know someone before diving into a relationship, a cat hybrid’s selective affection and careful trust-building would resonate with him deeply. He doesn’t want surface-level romance — he craves passion, mental stimulation, and stability — and a cat hybrid can offer that in a way that feels both intimate and exciting. Their quiet presence and intelligence would keep conversations meaningful, while their occasional playfulness would match Jay’s fun, talkative side.

Whether they’re enjoying a quiet café date or spending a rainy afternoon indoors, I think the chemistry between Jay and a cat hybrid would be undeniable — sophisticated, a little mysterious, and deeply magnetic.

(although a part of me is curious how he would be with a wolf hybrid, I feel like it would be very It Will Come Back by Hozier.)

JAKE :

I feel like Jake would really be drawn to a black panther hybrid. There’s something about their quiet intensity, strength, and mystery that I think would pull him in instantly. Panthers have this magnetic, intimidating aura, exactly the kind of presence Jake finds attractive. He seems like the type to fall for someone who’s hard to read at first, someone who gives off that cold or aloof vibe but is secretly super protective and loyal underneath. That dynamic would definitely keep him intrigued.

Black panther hybrids are also independent and self-sufficient, which aligns perfectly with Jake’s need for freedom and individuality in a relationship. He wouldn’t want someone clingy, he’d want someone who has their own goals, their own space, and can grow alongside him. At the same time, once a panther hybrid trusts someone, they’re deeply loyal and quietly affectionate, which Jake would really value in a long-term relationship.

Plus, panther hybrids are naturally graceful, sensual, and confident without trying too hard. That subtle kind of sexiness, the intense stare, the resting bitch face, the dark clothes, maybe even a turtleneck with smudged eyeliner vibe? Totally his type. I think Jake would be so captivated by that powerful energy, especially paired with someone who’s creative, open-minded, and emotionally deep.

A black panther hybrid just fits everything Jake seems to be looking for, someone who’s mysterious but grounded, fiercely loyal but independent, soft beneath a tough exterior. I can just imagine him falling hard for someone like that.

SUNGHOON :

For Sunghoon, I genuinely think a swan hybrid would be the perfect match. Swan hybrids embody the grace, elegance, and deep emotional connection that Sunghoon desires in a relationship. Their strong sense of loyalty and commitment aligns perfectly with his longing for a long-term relationship filled with passion and mutual respect. Swans are known for forming lifelong bonds, which reflects Sunghoon’s desire for a partner who is just as invested and willing to grow alongside him.

A swan hybrid’s nurturing nature and quiet strength would complement Sunghoon’s own intensity. They can be affectionate and romantic, showing their love openly, while also being firm enough to handle Sunghoon’s intense side without feeling overwhelmed. This balance of softness and strength would allow them to connect on a deeper level, creating that special bond he wants to have with someone who truly understands him.

Additionally, a swan hybrid’s beauty and powerful presence would match Sunghoon’s own classic style and his appreciation for someone who stands out. Their ambition and drive would also align with his own, creating a partnership where both are equally goal-oriented, yet their shared love and commitment would always be the center of their connection. The nurturing, protective nature of the swan hybrid would make Sunghoon feel cared for while still giving him the space to pursue his personal ambitions.

SUNOO :

For Sunoo, I think a raven hybrid would suit him perfectly. Raven hybrids are often associated with mystery, intelligence, and transformation, which aligns with Sunoo’s attraction to someone with a darker, more enigmatic aura. Their strong presence and striking features would catch his attention, as they share that intriguing and powerful vibe he’s drawn to.

A raven hybrid also embodies a mature, independent energy, someone who’s been through their own experiences and gained wisdom. This resonates with Sunoo’s need for a partner who is emotionally strong and has a sense of purpose in life. Their calm yet intense demeanor would provide the balance Sunoo seeks in a relationship, and their ability to navigate life’s challenges would give him the stability and guidance he desires.

The raven hybrid’s intelligence and deep emotional insight would make them a perfect match for Sunoo’s need for meaningful communication. They would have the kind of connection where they could talk for hours about anything, sharing their perspectives and learning from each other. The raven’s intuitive nature would also allow them to understand Sunoo’s deeper emotions, helping him trust himself and feel more confident in his own strength.

JUNGWON :

For Jungwon, I think a fox hybrid would be an ideal match. Fox hybrids are known for their cunning charm, confidence, and bold flirtation, all things Jungwon would find irresistible. They carry an air of mystery that makes them magnetic and hard to ignore, fitting that “unapproachable but attractive” energy he’s drawn to. With striking eyes and sleek, well-groomed features, a fox hybrid would embody the aesthetic appeal Jungwon can’t look away from, especially if they flaunt it with playful pride.

Personality-wise, a fox hybrid is clever, quick-witted, and never afraid to tease or challenge someone they like, which is exactly what Jungwon needs. His Aries Venus means he thrives on a little competition in love, someone who can match his passion and spark, not just follow it. A fox’s flirtatious, confident demeanor would fuel his fire and keep him engaged, while their independence ensures they don’t rely on him for everything.

They’d be fun, fearless, and just mischievous enough to keep him on his toes, never letting him get too full of himself. At the same time, their easygoing nature and lighthearted humor would match his own youthful charm, creating a dynamic, electric connection that keeps both of them hooked.

NIKI :

For Niki, I think a bat hybrid would be an ideal match. Bat hybrids carry that quiet, enigmatic energy Niki finds so captivating. They’re the type to stand on the outskirts of a crowd, lost in their own thoughts, headphones in, eyes scanning the world like they’re always observing, but rarely revealing. This matches his attraction to people who seem detached and mysterious, people who don’t let just anyone in. A bat hybrid might seem a little aloof or distant at first, but that’s exactly what draws Niki in, the urge to know what lies beyond the quiet.

He’d be completely intrigued by their subtle beauty and the soft romantic nature they reserve for only the closest people in their lives. And once he gets close? That’s where the magic happens. Bat hybrids are known to form deep bonds once they feel safe, which mirrors Niki’s slow but intense way of loving. They wouldn’t rush things. They’d take their time peeling back layers, mirroring his pace perfectly until they both feel like they’ve found something rare, something sacred.

They’re also highly intuitive, often sensing what someone needs without words, and Niki would love how effortlessly they make him feel seen and understood. Even if they’re quiet, their emotional depth runs deep. Bat hybrids are affectionate in a secret, behind-closed-doors kind of way, and Niki would absolutely adore being the one person they choose to show that side to.

Plus, they’d get his need for space without feeling neglected, and return that same loyalty tenfold. For Niki, love isn’t about loud declarations, it’s about closeness that feels like an extension of himself. That “soulmate or nothing” energy. A bat hybrid would meet him there completely.

Word count : 1588 | serapharua, 2025.

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remedyturtles · 6 months ago

Note

38 with rise Leo if you're up for it! (Also hi hi I hope you're doing well!)

hey buddy!!!! thanks @fuckedupcleric so much for the prompt! i hope you know that i love you muwah.

wordcount 1.3k, huge tw for self harm, cutting, and hallucinations

38. "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."

Sometimes Leo wondered why he was given a blade.

The rest of his brothers had rather blunt objects, not including the rather dangerous end to Mikey's kusari-fundo. But Leo carried with himself, every minute of the day, not one but two sharp katanas. He didn't think much of it when they were younger.

But he sure was thinking a lot about it now.

Not like. On purpose. His brain was just a god damn mess after… well. Everything. All his failures lined up in a neat little row. The invasion. All the things that seemed to quite cleanly show everyone he cared about exactly what Hamato Leonardo was made of.

It wasn't a pretty show. No encore.

The swords were always at his side. The glint of the blade in sunlight and the cold lick of metal at night. He'd begun to trace the sharp length with the pads of his fingers, feeling the crisp edge. Idly, without much thought, almost meditative. Not even with enough pressure to prick his fingers.

The promise was enough, just to feel, like stroking the teeth of a beast. There was a bite underneath, if provoked. There was potential. Locked jaw, latched into place, never letting go.

Leo wasn't going to do anything. That would be stupid. He was supposed to be trying to be better, not worse. His weapons were the manifestation of his love for his family. How fucked up would it be to hurt himself with that?

… how fitting ...

Not that Leo was going to do that. He was merely curious the amount of weight and pressure required to truly injure someone with his weapon. It was an important thing to know, since he was carrying the things around all the time.

When it was six AM in the morning and he hadn't slept a wink, laying awake and pressing his fingertips on the blade over and over and over and over, just to listen to the promise, just to feel the sing of metal through the small bones of his hand – somewhere in the lack of sleep and the late-turned-early haze, it seemed like a good idea. He pressed that sharp edge braced between both hands against the usually hidden top of his thigh, and pushed.

Not hard. It made a very thin line. A phantom sting, the appetizer of pain, not even enough to register beyond paper-cut levels. The perfect line looked… well. Like it had been there all along, and Leo was just revealing where it was supposed to be.

The second attempt was no longer curiosity. He couldn't pretend, when the angle and the pressure spoke of only one thing. Leo wanted to make it hurt.

And it hurt. It bled. He swore, a headrush of sudden understanding, that pain existed right under his skin, he just had to dig it out.

Leo dug it out. He dug it out. He dug it out.

Maybe there was penance, in the blood seeping from his skin, if he could bleed away sins and replenish into something new. Maybe there was a pledge, in each attempt, like this time it might fix something about him that everyone knew was broken. Maybe there was punishment, because it hurt.

There was a rush, each time, a chasing feeling. But it did not negate the pain, or the momentary fear replaced by hope, terrible hope. Maybe this time it was too much. How awful and wonderful that would be?

Leo hated the swords, almost rusting with how often he had to run alcohol wipes along the surface to clean them. How impractical they were, when he ran out of surface area to reach without being caught on his legs and had to switch to his arms underneath his wrist guards. Trying to balance the long edge of a sword one-handed and give enough pressure to hurt like it was really meant to was such an incredibly hassle. But it was all part of the lie Leo was telling himself, that this sword, the proof of his connection to his family, had always been a blade because it was meant to hurt himself. To carve him into something better. If only he pushed hard enough.

Which led to here. Hiding in the bathroom on the floor, trying to find a way to balance his sword for three minutes of release before he returned to the world where he was a fuck-up and a failure, where Raph's eye and Donnie's shell and Mikey's hands were far, far worse off than a few little cuts. Penance. Pledge. Punishment. He breathed shakily, anticipating and anxious for it. Hating that it had turned to carving, like he should be allowed to want. But unable to stop. Perfectly sharp blade humming, the manifestation of his family's love. How apt, how real, how true. Leo set his wrist against the braved edge and prepared to draw across the surface like the graceful bow of a violin.

"What are you doing?" A soft voice said.

Leo stopped. No, delayed. He flicked his eyes up, body taunt, and saw…

Little legs swinging back and forth. A curious young face leaning over to see better, eyes round underneath red stripes too big for his face. Cheeks still with baby fat, fingers gripping the counter he was sitting on. Hamato Leonardo, or at least, a memory of what he used to be. A child.

"Go away." Leo told the hallucination, and turned his back. He pulled the blade and the pain sung so loud.

The child gasped. "Ow!"

Blood. Leo flexed his fingers to activate the muscles in his arm. A dizzy feeling prickled hot waves from the top of his head downwards. Momentary perfection. Then reality soaked back in, and he readied the blade again.

"No! Hey!" The young Leo hopped down from the counter and inserted himself in front of his senior, visage hazy but upset. "Stop that!"

Leo grit his teeth. His hand shook. He said, more pointed, "Leave."

"No!" Little Leo stomped his foot, bottom lip wobbling. "I won't! You have to stop! Why are you doing this?"

Leo laughed, cold. The answer to that question would hurt more than what he was about to do. So he sliced again, slow and purposeful.

And Little Leo … wailed. Put tiny hands over his face and sobbed. "That hurts! It hurts!"

Blinking rapidly, Leo watched the new blood appear. Almost dripped on the bathmat before he dabbed with paper towel. There was a burning behind his eyes. Faraway emotions, looking in through a foggy window, pointing out strangers in a crowd.

His skin prickled. Lightheaded. Heart picking up the pace, tripping over itself, sta-sta-stammering. Almost dazed, desperate for another moment of clarity and release, to chase and chase and chase, dog after its own tail, the blade of love and torment against his skin, and –

"No!" Little Leo scrambled closer, face twisted with ugly tears, pleading, "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."

Leo's hand shook. His breath caught.

"It hurts." The child told him, hiccuping on uncontrollable sobs. "Please, it hurts. Stop. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please."

His grip trembled. The blood welled and the crisp edge promised its pretty lies.

"Please stop hurting me." Little Leo whispered. Young and sweet and innocent and right here. Right here. Never went anywhere.

The katana was set down with care. Leo drew his bleeding arm to his chest and heaved for air. He grabbed his supplies but wrapped them with far more care than he ever had before. Shushing quietly between gasps for air, promising, "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. You're okay."

The small space was quiet. The bathmat spotted with flecks of blood. Leo clutched his arm and rocked back and forth, soothing. Self-soothing. He hummed a lullaby, and shut his eyes, waiting for the after-image to fade.

#rem askbox #ask game #rem fic #hope you like it :D

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circeyoru · 1 year ago

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Sleeping Romance = Requested

[Alastor x Tired Sleepy!Reader]

The Request

You were a hazard to Alastor. A hazard to his heart. You honestly remind him he’s still ‘normal’ at the end of the day with your tiredness and for that, he doesn’t know if he’s grateful for it or terrified of it

You were an old demon, nearly as old as Zestial and boi. You don’t even have a presence. Like you can naturally scare someone without trying. Not really, you were just in that spot and fell asleep then when you woke up, there was some demon near you and you talked

“Oh sh*t! It’s The Slumber Demon!”

“Run for your life!”

Yeah, no idea how you got your title or what you did. You didn’t even bother to know. All you knew was that Zestial offered you his place and you were happily sleeping in a coffin that made you feel like you were a vampire

Oh, you found out what you did. While sleeping, you lulled others to sleep and got a hold of their souls, you devoured them in your sleep, body and soul. You were wondering why you were never hungry when you got woke before resting at Zestial’s place. Oh, Zestial was also battling against your powers when you slept. Oops. You chased Zestial out of his own home and he went to Camilla

Anyways. It might be because you were aware of your surroundings that you woke up to Alastor’s broadcast of the fall of Overlords and his rise to power. You’d find yourself listening in on the broadcast and lateron falling asleep but woke up later on and still the broadcast was on

Needless to say, you made the effort to go the the sight to see for yourself the destruction Alastor was causing to the streets of Hell. You were quite glad that you had no territory of your own since you couldn’t be bothered with managing one and with more demons to ‘care’ for. You were too sleepy to do so

Your meeting with Alastor? Well, can you even call it one. When you made it to the place, you soon fell asleep from tiredness and your powers acted up again, merely as a defensive mechanism and to gain more power for yourself. Alastor sensed it, sensed an odd ball of power near him. To him, he was positive this was another easy prey to take as his own

How wrong was he. If he didn’t try to devour you or put you into his broadcast, then he would have saved himself from losing that ‘winning streak’, cause you were the one getting stronger without you doing anything! You should have seen the shock on his face. He left you alone soon after

But you kept coming back. When he sense you near, he would leave the area. It was like hide and seek. Not really, since his broadcast and the trail of carnage he left behind was enough to lead you to him. That and Carmilla was kind enough to point you in his direction

Your little following was what brought Alastor to Rosie. The lovely auntie was amused that you had taken some form of interest in a soul that you were not sleeping (all the time). Then there was Alastor being a cannibal, so he fit right in. One reason or another, you rarely go into Cannibal Town, almost never when he was there. So he thought he found your weakness

Just when he thought he could take over Cannibal Town to avoid you in his path, Rosie showed herself and defended her town elegantly. There was a truce between the two and Rosie shared that it was because you meant no harm to her people and didn’t want to accidently hurt them when you fell asleep, that’s why you’d never frequent Cannibal Town

Either way, Alastor saw it as a win because it was like you were fighting with him to gain more power. Sadly, no one knew you were actually curious about Alastor that you followed him around. So no one could help you with this misunderstanding

Ah, Carmilla and Zestial is helping! They arranged for an Overlord meeting. All Overlords are expected to attend. Naturally, you and Alastor showed up. To surprise Alastor even more was that you were one and one of the ancient ones that were feared. It was not odd to see you falling asleep during the meeting though, yet here, you didn’t try to fight and you were just sleeping

Alastor watched with interest when Zestial pulled your chair closer to him and use his cloak to cover you while Carmilla had soften her voice and even Rosie used her umbrella to cover you from the lighting. You were very protected and cared for it would seem

It wasn’t long before he found himself caring for you as well. He noticed, the closer the two of you were with each other, the less likely you’d be trying to fight or steal energy from anything around you

Plus you seemed to have a nack for genuineness. Why he sees that is because whenever he approaches you with the intent to use your connections or to try and rope you into a deal, you’d be very very passive-aggressive with him, even worse when you fell asleep. Yet then he doesn’t (he only realizes when he has time alone to think), you were like a sleeping doe

Poor Alastor was in such denial for caring about you in a good and healthy manner. He even asked Zestial and Rosie (never Carmilla) about their relationship with you. To which both claimed that you had this aura about you that made them put their attention and care towards you, not that you even use it for any purpose. That’s why they were attracted to you, you were pure and innocent

That’s why he was attracted to you. Believe him, the two of you would have been long in a relationship if it weren’t for his denial and mostly your sleepiness. Every single time, you fell asleep midway his proposal or any plans to romantically set up the mood, he set the mood for your perfect slumber was what he did

“My sweetheart, will you do me— Wait! Don’t sleep yet!”

He lost count of how many times it happened. He was patient with you since that was your charm, he thought you’d be well rested after some time. Nope. You were just sleepy all the time. ALL THE TIME. If Sinner could go to other rings, he knew you’d be in Sloth. He jump the gun when Vox tried getting you to join him or his group, promising a perfect sleeping quarters for you

“Darling! You stole my heart and you should be held accountable for it!” Alastor exclaimed, not caring that there was no built up, not caring that there were eyes around, not caring that it was the ‘right’ time as he’d like

Never had you been so energized from that statement alone. You went over to Alastor and kissed him, he hugged you and kissed back. It was a moment the two of you treasured and felt like you were on cloud 9

“Hey! I was trying—” Never had you turned to a demon with such rage as you directly used your powers against Vox for interrupting your moment. Boy were you terrifying. You launched forward, pouncing onto Vox and tearing him to shreds. Too bad demons would respawn after some time, unless it was an angelic weapon that did the deed

Alastor fell for you again

Taking advantage of your energy and the electric energy you got from Vox’s entire being. You were in the mood to have some fun. Alastor had so much plans for you, “Let’s revisit our romantic spots.”

“We had romantic spots? And we went there before?”

“Hahaha, oh my dearest, you fell asleep on me!”

Note: I think the ending was a bit different than when I first started writing, but I can't seem to remember what it was before...

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

#alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Circe's Nighty Writings #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor #Circe's requested writings #Sleeping Romance

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muffinsin · 4 months ago

Text

Yeah so, my friend and I got to play some far cry 5 again and it kicked me right back into the far cry/faith phase.

Alas, have some HCs AND snippets on Faith x a female, buff, dominant and rather twisted deputy that may or may not be inspired by my dark donna from my story "smoke and mirrors" XP @viavrse is totally to blame because since she made a comparision between Faith and S&M Daniela I have not been able to stop thinking about it XP

Let's get into it! ;)

Masterlists (mainly RE8, Dimitrescu themed)

If one was to ask someone to describe the relationship between Faith Seed, siren of the henbane river, and the deputy, one of the faces of the rebellion against PEG, “unique”, and “complicated” would likely be the most fitting words

Those, and more

Passionate

Dangerous

Strong within, mysterious to others

Perhaps a little twisted

The Deputy, easily enough said, hardly follows a moral compass. While coming to Montana hoping to gain access to higher ranks and officials by stopping Joseph Seed, the moment that plan fell apart she set her eyes on something else

Someone else

A woman, seen in the cathedral during the man’s supposed arrest. Even as she snapped the handcuffs against his wrist, her eyes grazed the beautiful form of his little “sister”

Faith Seed

Manipulative. A liar. A siren. Dangerous. The deputy heard it all within days of asking around about the woman

It only made her more curious than ever

And after weeks of stalking and playing a game of chase, a game of cat and mouse, with the auburn haired woman, she was finally hers

And while their relationship is an odd one for sure- with the deputy secretly being within Peggie ranks even while portraying the resistance, it’s a strong bond, forged through love and care, possessiveness, obsession and loyalty

Ah, and how very obsessed she is with her angel

She- despite knowing fully well what Faith is capable of- can’t help but consider her as a delicate little thing, something too soft and broken in for this world, a manipulator manipulated and shaped by others, now soft and weak, much like her white flowers. The deputy is convinced, only she is strong enough to protect her

She can’t help it, not when Faith is adorably short and delicate compared to her, her green eyes soft, her flesh even more so, her small hands gentle compared to the deputy’s callused fingers and strong hands

As such, she dislikes letting Faith stray too far from her side. If she could, she’d keep her chained to her hip, safe where no one could touch her, or hide her away where no one could see her. With her commanding the young, seemingly authoritative woman to stay in her bunker, she supposes she does just that

When possible, her hands are always on Faith

In fact, she despises when someone touches what is hers, including Faith

Her blood boils everytime she watches her give her blessings, for even the brief moment of a new recruit touching her girlfriend’s hands is enough to make her grit her teeth in displeasure

She likes to grip her waist the best, her fingers strong and taking up most of the space there. She loves holding her tight enough to leave bruises, though tends to them each night with kisses and creams, ensuring she leaves no everlasting damage on her precious angel

Of course, there are other ways she loves to touch her, ways less appropriate when it isn’t just the two of them, such as when her fingers curl around her sweet throat, her other hand between soft, fleshy thighs ripping away at gentle underwear

She loves hearing Faith call her “deputy” in her soft, sweet voice, the title dripping with honey. It makes her blood run hot

And while she allows her to call her most things, from her name to “deputy”, to “love” snd more, what really gets her is hearing Faith’s cute, breathless gasps and pleas, her little moans and adorably futile attempts at calling her name when she is being ruined by her deputy, when her pussy squelches around her fingers, when her ass tightens in anticipation of being used by her lover

Yes, she lets Faith call her anything- Deputy, my love- but she lives for when Faith whimpers please

She’s insatiable as it comes to her. No matter how often she has her, she can never have her often enough. For this reason it’s quite common for her to overstimulate the cute thing, her arm easily holding her own while she feasts between her legs, mouth watering, tongue dragging into and against her flowery pussy until she squeals and cries out for her, moaning and begging so sweetly for but a break

What might be a little odd to think about is other ways the deputy shows her obsession over her little lamb, as she likes to call her besides angel, Faith, Rachel, and flower

For example, she loves collecting her things obsessively. The more personal, the better, going from simple things like fallen petals from her flower crown and ribbons to her panties, pocketed every single time after she takes her lover and practically tears them from her soft core

She just loves Faith’s sweet, flowery scent on everything

At times, the deputy finds herself dreaming about taking Faith away. Not only from Eden’s Gate, but from everyone and everything. It’s a dark, twisted thought she rarely indulges in by thinking about it, but it is there nonetheless

Thoughts of taking her beautiful girlfriend with her, locking her away in some hidden place where only she can have her

Her possessiveness knows hardly any bounds, though she knows when to bide her time

So, instead, she sticks to other things to fuel her obsession and possessiveness

Marking, for example

She loves not only leaving marks on Faith’s fair skin, but specifically so in areas she knows only she will ever see

Bite marks on her thighs and ass, handprints on her ass cheeks and fingerprints on her hips. All unnoticeable to others, those who do not grant to see the beauty like this

And even so, it would hardly matter, for even her jealousy seems to know little to no bounds

No one is allowed to do so much as look at Faith- at what is hers- for too long- if they do, the deputy makes sure they regret it

Whenever Faith gets too close to someone, the deputy forces her onto her lap and murmurs, low and into her ear; “Do I need to remind you who takes care of you, my angel?”

But, her jealousy comes not only from Faith’s interactions with new recruits

As such, the herald has come to realize she ought not to talk about her “brothers”, Joseph and John in particular

She’s almost not allowed to talk about them in any way that suggests they matter to her. No one matters aside from me, little lamb, as the deputy likes to remind her with a series of rough kisses to her soft lips

And while the deputy knows what role Faith plays, how she converts soon to be peggies, her blood boils whenever she catches a cultist looking at Faith with too much love and admiration

Being on both sides of this war, she is easily capable of making those looking at her girlfriend for too long disappear in no time

When someone of low status dares touch her, it isn’t uncommon for the deputy to execute them on the spot, easily spreading the word that Faith herself is a murderer, a literal siren causing death to all that get too close

She’s rough when she touches Faith, is only gently at times, but she’s even rougher with all others

And while she is very rough- naturally so, given her stature and fighter-like personality, she ensures Faith never has to open a door or lift a finger when she’s around

She loves doing everything for her

But, perhaps the most, she loves pinning her down and feeling the contrast of her delicate, smaller body against her own, almost massive frame, shaped by fighting and training hard

She loves to drag her fingers across Faith’s skin, loves to pull little whimpers and moans from her whenever she can

She loves feeling how weak she is, physically, compared to her

This only feeds into her protectiveness of the woman, as well as her knowledge of Faith’s past, leaving her to become extra possessive and protective over her

If someone ever took her or she went missing, the deputy would burn down all of the Henbane just to bring her back

She’ll break the whole damn world if it means keeping Faith safe

If Faith herself ever but considered leaving, the deputy would easily drags that idea from her. She’s hers

And as such, she makes her angel say that she belongs to her, over and over again, until it becomes second nature.

Despite her love for her, the deputy has zero patience when it comes to defying her- she doesn’t ask Faith to obey, she makes her

Not unlike the cultists, she worships Faith like something holy, but only she owns her like something sinful

Ah, and she loves exploring this sin

She loves to strip her down, loves to make her moan and whimper, groan and squeal. She loves to explore Faith’s tight body and taste every little inch of her

Her girlfriend is the only thing in this world that can make the deputy soft- even if that softness is twisted and possessive

On the complete counter side to this, the deputy despises the other Seed family members

She especially despises Joseph, for manipulating and hurting Faith, for bringing her down and raising her up when he feels like it. She hates his gaze on her, she hates the fact Faith is to wear only the dress he gave her, a dress she knows makes him view her precious girlfriend as his wife, nonetheless

If she could, she would wring his neck, and it’s the main reason she still partly plays for the resistance’s side

Then, there is John. Originally, she only thought him annoying, cocky, bothersome, irrelevant

But upon hearing his hushed, worried words to Joseph one night, his sinful confession of how he views his “little sister”, made her snap towards hating him

She knows, he would not act on it, knows he would never make a move on a woman meant to portray his younger sister. But she also knows he feels desire towards her, as he likely has to many other women made to become Faiths over the years

It doesn’t make her hate him any less

And then, Jacob

She respects Jacob

But she does not like him. Not when, even as he has never shown anything but gentleness towards Faith, the deputy knows he could snap her delicate neck like a twig beneath his fingers

She’s only looking out for her, really, she regularly convinces herself

On a softer note again, the deputy loves brushing Faith’s hair whenever she can, braiding it with flowers, calling her my pretty little lamb

When with her, the deputy likes to stay as close as possible and always have her hand on Faith. At times, when time grants it, she likes listening to her girlfriend hum and sing to herself as she braids flowers into a crown, her eyes lifting to watch her occasionally as she sketches

In no time, the deputy has an entire journal filled with sketches of Faith- some soft, some filthy, all obsessed and only for her to see

When Faith falls asleep, the deputy stays awake, watching her, guarding her, even knowing her girlfriend is safe inside the bunker

She loves the size difference between them, and especially when she pushes her up against a wall, she adores how tiny Faith looks against her, in her arms, against her chest, looking up at her with her stunning, green eyes

Faith’s hands are so small compared to hers, and the Deputy is obsessed with the contrast when she holds them

When she decides being a little bolder and brings a large strap matching her physique- and more, really-, she loves seeing her fingers struggle to wrap around it before Faith is to drag her tongue against it, blushing and squirming in need and embarrassment, fully away of how sinful she is being

For this especially, and in general, she constantly calls Faith her good girl. Ah, and what beautiful reactions it drags from her cute girlfriend

It drives her crazy seeing Faith’s lips tremble when she teases her, loves the way she melts under her touch

She makes Faith beg for things—even simple things, just to hear that breathy, sweet voice pleading for her

But her favourite thing to make her girlfriend beg for is to cum, when her sweet, innocent-looking girlfriend wears her sin on her sleeve, when her eyes roll back and legs tremble, when she begs her deputy to let her cum already

She likes testing Faith’s limits, pushing her just to see how much she can take

Whenever she is around her, the the deputy keeps Faith so close that she barely gets a moment alone- she’s always within reach, always hers. And while this occasionally leads to Faith crying bitterly- missing her so dearly- when the deputy has to move towards the mountains or valley, the deputy can’t stop hhelp self or alter this behaviour

Twisted as it is, she knows she deep down loves that her girlfriend misses her this much

And when she returns, she loves Faith being clinger than normal, her hands on her, her lips on her even as she blushes, no complaint dragged from her at all when the deputy immediately moves in and takes what she wants from her, only ever pleas to please, continue

But her angel is never left wanting for anything- she provides everything for her, so she never needs anyone else

She tells Faith every day that she’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, and while her rough and strong appearance and character might not suggest it, she loves to show her girlfriend that she loves her

She loves bringing her flowers and gifts, especially when forced to move towards another region

She loves telling Faith how beautiful she is, and she loves fucking her until Faith understands it, too, rather than just hears it, knowing she struggles with knowing that sometimes due to her past

She grips Faith’s chin and makes her look into her eyes when she speaks, ensuring her little lamb listens. When talking to one of Faith’s hallucinations from the flowers, she always knows exactly what distance to keep to have her around without making the illusion disappear

The deputy has no need for the bliss—her obsession with Faith is real, raw, all-consuming- but she enters the blissed world often to see Faith. She doesn’t mind it, though makes a point of teaching Faith not to pull her in when she feels like it, well aware that her body is left vulnerable when she isn’t careful. When she feels like a brat, Faith does so anyway, well aware of the consequences following when her lovely deputy returns to her bunker

The deputy makes her fall apart with nothing but her voice, whispering dark promises against her ear that sometimes have her gasp, as though a catholic school girl slowly corrupted

The deputy loves that fantasy in particular

She wants Faith completely dependent on her- so much so that she wouldn’t know what to do without her, all to ensure she can and will never want to leave her

She’ll often pull Faith into her arms and murmur; “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

She makes sure Faith always smells like her, even with her carrying the scent of bliss and flowers with her- either from her scent or from the marks she leaves behind

This is generally quite easy, as she always drapes her leather jacket over Faith’s shoulders, marking her as claimed, and warming her when she gets cold

She could snarl at that thought sometimes, knowing: if Joseph allowed her to wear anything but her panties and white dress, Faith would not be as cold all the time

She lifts Faith up effortlessly, carrying her whenever she wants, and she loves the way Faith gasps when she grabs her too roughly

Faith is so soft, so delicate, and the Deputy lives to leave her breathless

She loves how small Faith looks in her arms, how easy she is to manhandle by her, and only her. She would never stand for anyone else manhandling Faith

She loves holding her wrists above her head, loving how easily she overpowers her. Faith never fights back, never tries to struggle, but the deputy secretly loves knowing that even if she did, she could not physically overpower her no matter how hard she tries

Ah, the deputy is practically obsessed with how she can pin her girlfriends’s wrists above her hand with but a single one of hers and make her squirm

She makes Faith say that she belongs to her before she lets her go, and makes her say she will be her good girl every single time before leaving to go to some of the other areas of the county

Faith is her good girl, her little lamb and angel, her most precious thing

She doesn’t share. Ever

She makes her feel how much she craves her, over and over

She whispers dark promises into Faith’s ear- promises of love, devotion, possession, promises of what she will do to her, especially when she’s been a brat

But matter how rough the Deputy is with Faith, she never hurts her- she knows exactly how much pressure to use on her, after all. She can make her gasp, whimper, beg, but she never truly hurts her little lamb, viewing her as far too sensitive and delicate and far too easy to break

After a long day, she usually strokes Faith’s auburn hair to calm herself, her calloused hands tender

Faith is the only one who sees this side of her, and she never tells a single soul about it. She too loves bringing a tender side from the deputy otherwise known as dangerous, rough, and even cruel

She’ll lift Faith’s face by the chin, thumb brushing over her lips, whispering sweet promises

When Faith is exhausted, her deputy forces her to rest, often holds her in her arms and refuses to let her move until she’s slept, kisses her face and cradles her lovingly

Upon falling asleep, the deputy always carries her to bed

Faith could command an army of cultists, but is still carried bridal-style

If Faith is ever upset, the Deputy’s first instinct is to pull her onto her lap, whispering dark but comforting promises against her ear. She loves that they comfort her, the herald just broken enough to thrive on the dark love given to her

And no matter how much control the Deputy takes, she always makes sure Faith feels adored, ensuring that; “You’re my good girl. My perfect, precious thing. You know that, don’t you, Rachel?”

Ah, and how her good girl swoons when she is called Rachel

She knows, Joseph must not know, no one can know there is a glimpse of Rachel left in her. Ah..but she loves it when her deputy calls her by her real name

The deputy can go from protective to ravenous in an instant, all it takes is one of Faith’s soft, breathy giggles. Her voice alone is enough to make her shudder, but she loved hearing Faith whimper for her, whether from pleasure or desperation, it’s such a beautiful sound to her

She loves dragging these sounds from her whenever she can. Often, she enters the bliss with the single purpose of toying with her girlfriend, at other times using her as an eager stress reliever

She isn’t just rough- she’s starving for Faith, as if she’ll never have enough, no matter how many times she takes her. She has high stamina, which allows her to take her over, and over, and over again until she has her weak and breathy, dripping and drooling

She loves pushing Faith to the point where she’s breathless, wide-eyed, and overwhelmed- but she just rarely stops until she is a shaking mess in her arms

When she plays with her, she’s rough. She doesn’t just own Faith, but she makes sure her angel knows she’s owned by her

Faith’s little gasps when the Deputy grips her throat drive her wild, feral almost, especially when she knows Faith trusts her completely. She never struggles against her, and the deputy in turn never even considers gripping her throat too tight

She whispers the filthiest, possessive things into Faith’s ear while holding her close by her throat, just to watch her blush

"You're playing a dangerous game, angel", the deputy scolds, her arms crossed, drawing attention to the shirt's short sleeves straining against the muscles beneath. She doesn't miss the way Faith's green eyes flicker to them, before moving back to her eyes.

Faith...likes to play games, sometimes.

And the deputy knwos that. Lord, she knwos it down to her bones.

Faith has a habit of dancing right at the edge of her patience- brushing too close, letting her fingers linger, her voice all honeyed innocence. She would bat her lashes, tilt her head, let her soft, sweet mouth curl just right, like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. She'd seduce her effortlessly.

And it never fails to drive the woman insane.

Right now, Faith is perched on the wooden table in her bunker, legs crossed like she is royalty, auburn hair cascading over her shoulder, lips pink and soft, teasing her with every wicked little smile.

"You really should be more careful", Faith coos, voice silky, a whisper of laughter hidden beneath it. "You might end up falling for me", she seems to warn, but her smile indicates that this is just what she wants.

She always gets like this, seductive, but bratty, every single time without fail when the deputy lets her off the leash, allows her to play around and play her role as the Herald of the Henbane River and lure others into the bliss.

To think her girlfriend would allow such behaviour...or perhaps Faith is just in dire need of being put in her place again. Either way, the deputy is eager to help her out, to teach.

She stalks toward her, and it feels as though her blood is on fire, her core throbs, her entire being yearns for her.

Her patience is gone.

"I think it’s already too late for that, angel", she murmurs, a dark smile grazing her choppy, bitten lips. When she comes to stand in front of her, Faith doesn’t flinch. She never does, with her. And even when the stronger woman plants her hands on either side of her, caging her in, forcing her small body to stay right where she wants her, she only giggles.

Sweet. Innocent.

Except she isn’t.

The deputy, unlike many others, knows better. She sees the way her lips part slightly, how her breath hitches, how her delicate fingers curl against the table she's sat on, how her eyes keep on moving to her muscles, to her throat, to her collarbone and chest, hidden partly by her thick jacket. She watches as Faith's eyes trail lower, finding the knives and weapons strapped to her lover's hip and thighs. She looks back up again, hoping her staring was somewhat subtle. Her lover indulges her and doesn't comment on it.

"You keep running that little mouth of yours", she instead murmurs, her voice low, rough, thick with something dangerous. She leans in, her mouth right against Faith’s ear, letting her hot breath ghost over her skin.

"What are you trying to do, huh, angel?"

Faith tilts her head just slightly, just enough to bare her throat as her eyes slip shut. Perhaps, to submit, Perhaps, to tease even more.

The deputy snaps.

Her fingers wrap around the younger woman's delicate neck, not squeezing, this time, merely holding, pressing just enough to remind her how much stronger she is. How easily she could break her, even as both of them know she would never do such a thing.

Faith gasps, a soft, trembling sound, her pulse fluttering beneath her fingertips. She doesn't struggle, doesn't even raise her hands to the one wrapped around her throat. Instead, her stunning green eyes search for the ones of her lover, her breath coming faster, her soft lips parting slightly. Still, as always, she doesn't pull away.

She never pulls away.

Instead, she whispers, soft, breathless, wanting;

"Then teach me, deputy"

And the woman feels as though loses control as the sound of her soft and breathy voice. Her grip tightens, her free hand grabbing Faith's hip, thinly covered by the white dress she is always made to wear. She yanks her forward harshly, until her legs spread around her waist, forcing her to feel what she does to her.

On some days, she likes to torment her cute girlfriend, bring a strap worthy of her stature, ruin her cute holes and make her blush and whimper at the realization of just how sinful she is as she is ruined. Faith always promises, she will pray after, will condone, will be good and pure again after. The strap, and the lingering pain of the stretch it causes, make this difficult.

Today, while it isnt such a day, Faith still feels the harsh fabric of her jeans against her thighs and panties, the dress doing a poor job of seperating her. It feels as though only her panties seperate her from her lover, thin and soft as they are dragged against the deputy's front.

Faith gasps, her delicate fingers clutching at the Deputy’s arms, nails digging in just slightly, her breath hot, uneven. Where she sometimes feels the bulge of the strap she now feels only the material of her lover's jeans, warm, and jumps slightly when she attempts to unwrap her legs from around her waist and it causes her to graze across one of the knives strapped to the woman's thigh. Immediately, she wraps her legs around her again, whimpering as she feels the sting of the cut on her fair skin.

The deputy leans in, her mouth hovering just over Faith’s, her grip unrelenting. She isn't oblivious to what her little brat has done, and its consequences, but grants her the small mercy of not scolding her for it. The cut by her leg is enough, she deems, no matter how small it is.

"You’ve got no idea what you’re asking for, angel", she whispers, her voice dark, edged with something starved, something possessive and obsessive. Faith shudders at her words and for but a moment her eyes flutter closed, lashes trembling, and her breath comes in soft little gasps that have the deputy thrust her hips forth slowly. Faith melts perfectly against her despite her bratty attitude this day, her pulse fast, her throat tight with the fingers wrapped around it.

The deputy watches her, drinks in every small movement, every delicate shift, every sweet, helpless noise- and it only makes her hungrier with each passing moment.

"You act so innocent, don’t you, my little lamb?", the woman murmurs, tilting her head, brushing her lips just barely over Faith’s softer ones. "Like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to me", she adds, a smirk forming at her lips and pressing against her lover's as she hears her answer come in the form of cute whimpers and fingers curling tight around her large arms.

"You think you can just tease me", she whispers, her grip tightening around Faith’s throat, just enough to make her gasp again, her pretty lashes fluttering, her legs tightening around her hips. She feels how hot her core is like this, the panties doing a poor job of hiding her desire.

"You think I'll just let you say all those sweet little things-", her fingers dig into the auburn haired woman's hips, pulling her even closer, until it's impossible for her to be even more so, before she continues; "bat your lashes, smile all soft, and then just walk away from me?"

Faith shakes her head fast, her breath hitching, but she does not speak. Perhaps, because she can't, or perhaps because she chooses not to. The deputy can't tell with her hand around her throat, though she knows her grip is far too light to bruise her sweet lover still.

"No?", she mocks mocks, her voice low, teasing. "I don’t think so, angel. You should know better than to be a brat with me", she warns. She moves fast, a squeal of surprise drawn from the herald as she's shoved down against the table again and pinned in place, the deputy's body heavy against her own softer, more delicate frame. She gasps, but it's a breathy, desperate sound. Never fearful, even like this, for she knows the deputy would kill-

no, she would slaughter-

for her, burn the world down for her.

And as innocent as she acts, deep down, Faith likes it.

The Deputy grins darkly at her as wide, green eyes glance up at her. Faith squirms beneath her, futile little movements that only feed into her lover's dominance, possessiveness and protectiveness over her. She glances down at her, smirking. She knows after all, no one but her gets to see her beautiful herald this way.

"You started this, angel", she murmurs, pressing her mouth to Faith’s pulse point just between her strong fingers, feeling the wild beat of her heart. She bites down- hard, and groans against her sensitive flesh when Faith cries out in response.

Her body arches against her fully, hands grab at her, legs tighten and curl around her. She feels Faith's nails dig into her skin, but cares little for it. She wears each mark she receives from her with pride, whether that be cuts or kisses or deep scratches on her body. her favorite are easily the deep scratches of Faith's nails against her back when she decides to use the strap on her, thrusting hard, dragging her hips back and forth and pushing deep into her. She almost wishes she brought it today, almost wants to pull away to check for the one she keeps in Faith's bunker- a tool only she gets to retrieve.

She then pulls back, her lips wet, watching the mark bloom against Faith’s pale skin. She knows, they will need to cover it eventually. She knows, the situation will get only more complicated should Joseph see any of the marks she places on the precious herald. But in this moment it's only them, and she places as many as she wants.

"Now you’re gonna take what’s coming to you", she whispers against her skin, her tongue darting out to lick over another spot at the woman's neck.

Faith whimpers, her fingers twitching against the woman's strong arms, her breath fast and uneven. She shifts and squirms, trying to move, to test her limits, but the older woman only presses her down harder, her strong body unrelenting, her grip like a vine holding her tight.

She can only squirm and pant as another mark is placed on her throat, her pussy throbbing, her panties clinging to it uncomfortably. She's so wet already, panting beneath her lover, her throat and hip held tight, her body locked in place.

"Where do you think you’re going, angel?", the deputy taunts once she is finished placing her second mark, her breath hot against Faith’s flushed skin, glistening with spit. "I thought you wanted me to teach you a lesson", she coos, scolding playfully.

Faith’s lips part in response, her breath hitching, her pupils blown wide- but there’s still that wicked little glint in her eyes. That small, teasing spark that tells the Deputy she’s not completely broken yet.

She still thinks she’s in control, as she always is in her sweet world of Bliss, as she always is with others, with new recruits, with potential regruits.

Not with her, not now.

The woman only smirks, dark and slow.

That won’t do at all.

She trails her fingers from her hip down Faith’s side, slow, deliberate, just barely touching her over the thin fabric of her sweet dress. It makes the auburn haired woman shiver, her breath coming in small, uneven gasps, but she still has the nerve to arch against her touch, to push back, testing her patience, to try to ask for more.

And she is once again left gasping and groaning, her throat released, her jaw grabbed in its place.

"Still feeling brave, huh?", her lover murmurs, voice low, dangerous. This time, as though pushing her limits, Faith only giggles, breath and teasing, her lips curling up despite the deputy's firm hold on her.

"I don’t know what you mean", she purrs, voice all sweet innocence, like she isn’t deliberately testing her limits, like she wouldn't have been pushed down in a mating press position and ruined had the deputy come a little more prepared, like she isn't mere minutes away from skilled, strong fingers thrusting into her and ruining her for hours.

The deputy chuckles darkly at her, shaking her head as she sighs.

"My angel...", she sighs. "...you just don’t know when to quit"

Her grip tightens, not enough to hurt—just enough to make Faith go still, to make her breath catch, to remind her who she belongs to effortlessly. Slowly, the woman leans in, brushing her lips along Faith’s jaw, her marked throat, not quite kissing- just letting her feel her there, letting her anticipation build as her lips brush against her and her teeth drag against sensitive flesh.

Faith trembles, her small body pinned beneath her, trapped in place, forced to wait for whatever the Deputy is going to do next. She wants more, needs more already, but the deputy doesn’t give into her bratty desires so easily.

Instead, she takes her time, dragging her hand lower, over Faith’s body, feeling the soft curve of her body beneath her fingers. She grips the dress tightly, but knows not to tear it. Briefly, possessiveness flashes through her as she thinks of the stupid fact her beautiful herald is made to wear only what Joseph allows, though when it has her tighten her grip on the woman's jaw and she whimpers, she is quickly snapped out of it and releases her just a little again.

"You act so damn innocent", she murmurs instead, head hanging low as she brushes her lips against Faith’s ear. "But you’re nothing but a little tease, aren’t you? You just need someone to show you how naughty and dirty you really are", she whispers, laughing as the woman's hips buck up and she gasps, her cheeks pink and warm from want and embarassment alike.

She doesn't answer her, tries to turn her head in defiance, though the grip on her jaw forces her in place. And still, her pathetic attempt does not go unnoticed by her lover.

"Oh, now you don’t have anything to say?". she mocks, fingers trailing lower, just barely skimming the edge of Faith’s dress. "What happened to all that smart little mouth of yours?", she questions, her mind racing with fantasies of how she could put that little mouth to use, instead.

Faith gasps, her lashes fluttering, her hands clenching against the wood beneath her. Still, she’s stubborn, and the deputy sees it easily.

The Deputy can see it, the way Faith’s lips twitch, the way she tries to hide her reactions behind that sweet, innocent expression.

So she switches tactics, plays her sweet lover like a violin she has spent years studying.

Slowly, she loosens her grip on Faith’s jaw, instead tracing her thumb along the soft curve of her soft cheek. She leans in again, this time kissing her marked throat, slow, lingering, her lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin, drinking in the way Faith shivers beneath her touch and moans every time she kisses over the marks placed by her, the flesh sore and sensitive there.

Faith whimpers, her fingers twitching like she wants to reach for her, but she doesn’t.

She’s waiting, her eyes wide, her pussy drooling, her nipples hard against the deputy's larger chest.

The Deputy smirks against her skin.

"There it is", she murmurs, dragging her mouth along Faith’s pulse point, feeling the rapid thrum beneath her lips.

"There’s my good girl"

Faith lets out a hot moan at the petname, but the deputy can still feel the tension in her body, the way she’s fighting her own reactions, trying not to give in completely.

That’s fine.

After all, she likes a challenge.

She pulls back just slightly, just enough to meet Faith’s half-lidded, dazed eyes, and drags her hips down just enough to apply the fainted bit of pressure on the woman beneath her.

"You wanna keep playing your little games?", she murmurs, dragging her fingers lightly up and down Faith’s side, making her shudder. "Or are you ready to behave yet?", she asks. She enjoys this, has always enjoyed drawing out foreplay. Especially if it means Faith is dripping for her after, her pussy drooling like a honeypot when she eventually moves between her legs and devours her.

The auburn haired woman swallows hard, her breath still coming fast, her cheeks flushed.

She hesitates, considering her options, just a second too long.

The deputy's grin turns sharp as she speaks again;

"Guess I’ll have to make the choice for you, little lamb"

And just like that, she’s pulling Faith off the table, flipping her roughly onto her stomach, and easily pins her down with one strong hand against her lower back. She gasps beneath her, her wrists held against her back, her entire body held down. She's panting, but the deputy is already pushing her dress up, exposing the soft, delicate skin of her thighs and a part of her white-pink panties beneath.

She shivers as she feels the woman run a hand over her thighs, her touch slow and teasing, but no matter how much she squirms the deputy firmly holds her in place.

"No more running", she murmurs, her voice all gravel and heat. "You’re mine now, angel", she breathes out, catching how her younger lover whimpers and moans, her smaller fingers clenching into fists, her body helpless beneath her touch.

No matter how many silos she blows up and bases she takes out, this,

this,

is when she feels most in control.

"W-what are you- ?", Faith breathes out as she feels fingers toying with her dress, having at last found her voice, but the Deputy only grins, slow and hungry.

"You wanna act like a brat today?", she murmurs, her voice low, thick with dominance before she adds; "Then you’re gonna get treated like one". The words alone have Faith shiver, unsure how a punishment may look. Sometimes, they're mild, usually when her lover is in a good mood. Just once she picked a bad day to be a massive brat on, the consequences still visible and for her to feel days after, her body weak and bruised, her pussy utterly sore and ass aching with every little step, her womb pumped full of fake cum to add to her humiliation, humiliation that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried to pray, until her lover cooed and reassured her and licked the oozing wetness from her sensitive folds again.

Briefly, she tries to push her thighs together, as though hoping to control the situation even a little. She feels her wrists be squeezed in return, gasps as she's pulled a little closer to the edge of the table and her toes graze against the floor beneath her.

"Oh no, angel, you don't get to be in charge", the deputy coos, the words exciting the other woman. She relaxes a little against the table at them, relaxes knowing that this means she will be taken care of. With her deputy she never has to be in charge, doesn't have to think or plan, doesn't have to worry. Well, aside from the punishments when she's bratty, such as the one she know is bound to come soon with her in such a compromising position.

She sucks in a breath, her body tensing as though to prepare her for it, but the deputy can see the way her fingers twitch, the way her back arches ever so slightly, like she wants this- like she’s been craving someone to finally put her in her place again after having had ot play her role as the strong, cute, seductive herald luring others in for too long.

The Deputy leans down, her lips brushing against Faith’s ear as she commands; "Count for me, angel"

Faith whimpers, her fingers twitching, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. She knows what it means, knows what comes. She can only consider herself lucky the deputy seems too eager to continue this to retrieve other tools, to retrieve hairbrushes and paddles she'd regularly use to spank her with. She knows well enough, though...the strong, callused hands are more than capable of turning her ass red and blue should she disobey, still.

But she still hesitates.

Still clings to that last bit of defiance, excitement drooling in her stomach. She knows, the punishment will hurt. Ah, but the pleasure after feels so good. She yearns for it, yearns for punishment followed by love and care, pleasure and happiness, after experiencing pain for so many years and having only the bliss to help her cope.

The deputy's grin turns sharp. Still, she decides to go easier on her precious girlfriend today, opting for removing her thick, sharp rings before she raises her hand and strikes. No need to cut her ass today, not over her little brat trying to be a tease.

The sharp crack echoes through the room, and Faith gasps, her whole body jerking forward, her back arching instincitvely, her pussy tightening and drooling against the white-pink panties.

"O-one-!", she breathes out, and the deputy smirks.

"There’s my good girl. Keep it up, and we won't have to be at this for very long", she hums, letting her palm soothe over the now-warm ass cheeks and reddening skin. She takes in the cute red shape of it, though frowns at the panties still covering her lover.

No, those won't do at all.

Faith shivers as she feels the deputy's fingers grab the panties sharply, then shrieks as they're torn from her, the thin fabric snapping and tearing at a single harsh yank that has her body pull back to the edge of the table again.

Then, another slap.

Faith cries out again, her fingers curling and her wrist pushing against the fingers holding her, her breath coming fast and uneven.

"Two!", she calls out obediently, her voice breathless. She feels as though her ass is on fire from just two spanks already, her pain resistance surprisingly low given her history, her pussy tightening as she feels the woman's hand stroke over her skin. The deputy hums in approval, her free hand stroking down Faith’s spine, feeling every little shudder, every tremor that runs through her delicate frame. She watches hungrily as a string of wetness drools from Faith's soaked, exposed pussy, her thighs trembling, but held apart for her, the brat finally made to be a good girl again.

"You starting to learn, angel?", she taunts, her voice like a dark caress. "Or do I need to keep going?", she threatens, chuckling as her lover whimpers, her small body trembling beneath her hand. She knows how to play her well by now, knows every bit of discipline only makes her softer, needier, hotter.

And Lord, the deputy just loves seeing her like this.

She leans down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the back of Faith’s shoulder, letting her teeth graze the skin. This time, when her hand comes down as a surprise, Faith cries out and jerks beneath her, tears forming in her eyes.

"Three!", she calls out before she can even be reminded to do so. She feels the hand caress her warm, reddened cheeks, feels as the deputy fondles her thick ass for a moment before the hand travels up her body again. The deputy chuckles behind her, her hand coming up to once again grip at her lover's jaw and tilt her head back enough to spot the dazed, glassy look in her big, teary green eyes.

"Oh, angel...", she murmurs, mocking, dragging her thumb across Faith’s soft lips and groaning, her own core wet and sticky and her pussy throbbing with want. "...now you’re getting it, Faith"

The woman nods without thinking, her lashes fluttering, her lips parting slightly, her breath warm against the Deputy’s fingers.

And that’s it. The beautiful moment she submits completely, her bratty defiance melting into soft, obedient submission for her lover. The deputy watches hungrily as the last of her resitance crumbles, feels her sink into her hold, her body relaxed and pliant, her will completely surrendered to her, a silent plead to take care of her, unspoken, but clear.

And she would never think of denying her.

Mine, she Deputy thinks, her grip tightening possessively around Faith’s jaw, holding her in place as she leans in- slow, savoring, like she has all the time in the world. Her lips drag against the shell of Faith's ear, her thigh slipping between the woman's spread legs as she leans over her completely. As the soaked, flowery folds rub against the tight material of her lover's jeans, Faith only moans and whimpers, blushes sweetly and leans into the touch. She doesn't hump, doesn't grind down, knowing now is a time in which she is meant to be perfectly behaved for her lover.

She sighs, happy.

She knows how to behave for her, and finds immense comfort in it. She turns her head a little as the woman speaks again, the movement allowed as the grip on her jaw lessens just a little.

"Now, angel", the deputy breathes, dragging her lips over the shell of Faith’s ear, "you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t you?"

And her lover nods quickly, her breath uneven, her whole body shivering in anticipation. She feels the leg grind against her pussy steadily, moans and gasps softly as her clit is massaged. She knows, she is prepared.

And her whole body yearns for it.

#faith seed #far cry 5 #far cry fandom #deputy #jacob seed #joseph seed #john seed #oc deputy

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little-sleepy-owl · 1 year ago

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ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣,

who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. mostly gender neutral, but there's one use of "girl/boy", coz I couldn't come up with the alternative that would fit my vision.

damn, I didn't expect I will have so much fun writing this one. for all Husker lovers out there. hope this is good <3.

warnings: not explicitly, but still smutty, daddy kink mention (have you heard Keith David's voice? there is NO way I would ignore this opportunity), biting mention.

well, he didn't expect that.

forgive him if he laughs. “really, you died a virgin? how old were you, fifteen?”

actually curious how this even happened. were you never attracted to anyone that way? or was no-one attracted to you? if so, those people were blind.

somewhat surprised you want him to be your first. are you really sure? isn't there a better candidate?

well, he is not gonna reject the offer.

he's an old-fashioned man. he might look like someone who would just drag you to his room to do the deeds, but in truth, this fellow is a hopeless romantic.

you will get a proper date. not exactly a fancy one, but very thoughtful and sweet.

a table for two right in the Hotel, some lit candles, all other patrons and staff chased away for the evening. he will dress especially nicely for you and even prepare dinner.

(it's actually ordered, but you don't need to know that.)

quiet music, slow dancing. chaste compliments, but his voice is so deep and low, tickling your ear lightly, it still feels kinda suggestive. oh, he's very smooth when he wants to be.

his hands start to wander quite quickly tho. but can you blame him? the man can only have that much patience, and it's not like you both are not aware of what it is all leading to.

just remind him to retrieve into the bedroom, or else he might go on you right at the same table you both dinned on. unless that's what you want, of course.

a king of foreplay.

he takes things slow. madly so. it's almost like he's lazy. his hands move leisurely over your heated skin, and it takes so much time for his hot, wet kisses to go down the side of your jaw and cross your neck to finally reach your collarbones.

he purrs. you don't even have to touch him, he just marvels so much when he touches you, it gets him purring non-stop.

but also, try gently caressing the base of the wings. I assure you, you've never heard those noises from him before.

he doesn't talk much, but when he does… you can't help but blush to the tips of your ears.

hot breath, voice hoarse, a quiet praise, a small chuckle. doll, babe, sweetheart, good girl/boy.

if you respond well to the last one, expect him to use the “daddy” card, too.

don't think he will do all the work. quite the opposite, actually. he will lay down and make you strangle his hips with a sly smirk on his lips.

“don't you want to choose your own pace now, hun?”

truly the lazy cat.

oh, but don't worry. If you get tired, he will take his turn too. can't have you disappointed on your first time after all.

this man has technique. he makes you feel so good so seemingly effortlessly, it's crazy.

will ask if you're okay with a bit of a biting. it's really hard to resist for him, especially on the verge of climax.

mind you, he's not finishing before you do. maybe even before you do twice.

nope, no afterglow cuddles until you drink some water and at least have a towel to get a bit cleaner. after that, he's all yours.

covers you with his wings, while tackling you close to him.

initiates a lil’ talk about everything. did you like it? was there something you'd rather him not do?

he's not insecure, he just wants to communicate properly and prefers doing it as soon as possible.

everything's fine? good.

now you know he's purring when he sleeps cuddling with someone. what a cute kitty.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #how easy is to tell that i have a deep fascination with his voice?#romantic/sexual

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ophanum · 8 months ago

Note

Hi!! Ahh im so in love with your writing and the ideas you bring, i was wondering if i can request headcanons for jerome valeska x reader where the reader wants a normal life but he doesnt? Im so curious on if he’d come back after dying cause he would miss her or if he would just leave her be as his little sacrifice to her

TATTOO ! - Gotham TV

ft. Jerome Valeska x Fem! Reader

TW: NSFW, non-con (kind of), yandere behaviour, etc.

note: Thank you so much! And thank you for requesting. Actually, that's a mind boggling idea. But I think this could go angsty or a bit disturbing and yandere, knowing Jerome. But you know him, he's kind of unhinged and all the while detached from all his morals.

"No, I don't care about the pain, I'll walk through fire and through rain, just to get closer to you..." - Tattoo by Loreen

Jerome is inherently chaotic, and for him, “normal” is a joke. When the reader talks about wanting stability—an ordinary life, maybe a simple job, or just being free from crime and violence—he finds it almost endearing. Jerome would playfully mock these dreams, often calling them “cute” or “boring,” but he’s secretly fascinated. The idea that someone could desire a life he sees as mundane shows him just how different the two of them really are. It makes him feel like she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve, a stark contrast to the rest of his wild, unpredictable world.

Yet, despite his mockery, he’d occasionally attempt to see things her way, leading to…

Jerome would never fully commit to a traditional normal life, but he’d play around with the concept, adding his own demented twists. If she wants dinner dates, Jerome would take her to strange, often dangerous places, like an abandoned diner he’s broken into or a rooftop overlooking Gotham where they’re absolutely not supposed to be. If she wants a day off, he might orchestrate a “perfect day” for them…with staged “surprises” like a random heist or a chase from the GCPD just to make things more “exciting.”

On some level, Jerome sees himself as a kind of twisted showman for her, giving her thrills she’d never get from a normal life. While he may call these attempts at normalcy “experiments,” he’s secretly doing them to see if he can fit into her world, if only for a fleeting moment.

Jerome is possessive, and he knows that being with him endangers her dream of a peaceful life. There are nights when he watches her sleep and contemplates leaving—telling himself she deserves something better, something he can never give her. He’s tempted to let her go, almost as if sacrificing her to the gods of normalcy, convincing himself that he’s doing it for her own good.

But the idea of her finding happiness without him grates on him. The very thought feels like a betrayal, as if she’d be casting off his memory and leaving him behind. He may tell himself he’ll leave her, but deep down, he knows he can’t. She’s his, even if he can’t give her the life she wants. This internal battle between letting her go and holding on adds to his already volatile mind, often leading to unpredictable, obsessive behavior.

Jerome’s chaotic life catches up to him, and he’s “taken down” in one of his many stunts. He assumes this would be the end of his hold over her, a final sacrifice where he convinces himself she’ll have a chance at a peaceful life. But, even in the afterlife, he finds himself restless. The memory of her haunts him, pulling him back. He convinces himself that he’d come back just to check in on her, to see if she’s forgotten him… but once he’s resurrected, his obsession reignites, stronger than ever.

Returning to her isn’t about letting her move on; it’s about reminding her—and himself—that no matter what happens, they’re bound together. When he inevitably reappears at her doorstep, he does so with a crazed grin, thrilled to see the shock and confusion in her eyes, knowing he’s come back to disrupt her once more.

Jerome’s possessiveness knows no bounds. He sees her as his, even if he’s gone for stretches of time, even if she tries to distance herself. In his mind, she is his “little anchor” to the world, grounding him in a twisted sense of reality. This obsession drives him to extremes—showing up unannounced when she least expects it, sabotaging any sense of peace she’s managed to create, just to remind her of his presence.

His love isn’t gentle or considerate; it’s a wildfire that consumes everything in its path. Jerome’s affection is dark, possessive, and chaotic. He wants her with him not out of a need for partnership, but because he feels she belongs to him. Any other version of her life—a life that doesn’t include him—is a personal offense he can’t bear to let stand.

This dynamic turns into a twisted cat-and-mouse game. Jerome convinces himself to leave her, letting her live her “normal” life, but he can’t stay away. After a few weeks or months, he’ll inevitably return, showing up in her life just when she’s settled into some kind of peace. It’s almost as if he waits for her to rebuild before coming back to tear it down. For Jerome, this cycle is exhilarating, the ultimate proof that he has a lasting, unforgettable effect on her life.

This is his way of ensuring she never forgets him, that she’s never truly free. He revels in her frustrated but resigned reactions, savoring every moment when she realizes he’s not gone for good. This endless cycle becomes a sick game for him, where he finds delight in the predictability of her attempts at normalcy—and his ability to destroy it.

Over time, Jerome would taunt her desire for normalcy more openly. He’d say things like, “Normal is for the dead, doll,” or “You’re only alive when I’m around.” He thrives on pushing her to accept his world, to abandon her dreams of a peaceful life. In his twisted view, she doesn’t need normalcy; she needs him.

The tension would eventually escalate until she’s forced to confront the truth: if she stays with him, she’s giving up on a quiet, stable life. Jerome, in turn, finds satisfaction in knowing he’s corrupted that dream for her, leaving her with a sense of belonging to his chaotic world. For him, it’s a victory—a realization that she’s as much a part of his madness as he is hers.

Jerome’s presence is like a virus in her life: no matter how much she tries to cleanse herself of him, he always finds a way back in. He’s a haunting reminder that true normalcy is out of reach. If she’s with him, she’ll never have peace, but he sees it as his gift to her—a life that’s truly, terrifyingly alive.

In the end, Jerome would probably keep playing this game with her indefinitely, relishing every moment he disrupts her peace and binds her further to his world of chaos, one visit at a time.

The night was calm, eerily so, and for once, you felt like you could breathe. It had been months since Jerome’s death—if that was what you could even call it. In Gotham, no one was ever truly gone, but you’d convinced yourself this time was different. This time, he wouldn’t come back.

You’d tried moving on, slowly constructing the quiet, stable life you always dreamed of: simple routines, a cozy apartment, and people who didn’t know you or your past. You’d even picked up a job at a local café, finding comfort in the mundane rhythm of making coffees and exchanging pleasantries. It was the kind of life you’d told him you wanted, but he’d only laughed, brushing it off as childish fantasy.

You convinced yourself he’d left you that night, let you go, a final act of mercy from the chaotic storm that was Jerome Valeska.

Or so you thought.

It was past midnight when you felt it: that familiar weight of being watched, the feeling of a presence just on the edge of your vision. You lay in bed, paralyzed, convincing yourself it was a trick of the mind—a remnant of the past you thought you’d left behind.

Until you heard it. The faint sound of laughter, chilling and unmistakably his. Slowly, you turned, your heart thundering as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. There he was, lounging in the shadows by your window, watching you with that signature, manic grin.

“Well, look at you,” he drawled, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Little miss grandma, all tucked in her little bed, living her little boring life.”

You sat up, your voice strangled. “You’re… you’re dead. You died.” Your words barely came out as a whisper, half to him and half to yourself.

He laughed—a sound you hadn’t realized you’d missed and feared in equal measure. “Oh, sweetheart, death’s just a setback. You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?” He stood, stepping out from the shadows, his face illuminated by the moonlight, and you swore he looked even more unhinged, if that were even possible.

“What…what do you want?” you managed, though you already knew the answer. With Jerome, there was always only one answer: you.

“What do I want?” he mused, walking around your room, his fingers trailing along the walls, brushing over the simple decorations, the trinkets of your “new life.” “I missed you, doll. I missed watching you try so hard to be…” He grinned, that wicked, taunting grin. “peaceful.”

You took a shaky breath. “Jerome, please. Just… just let me have this. I’m not asking for much. Just… peace.”

“Peace?” His laugh was sharper this time, mocking. He turned, crossing the room until he was towering over you. “Is that really what you want?” He cocked his head, reaching out to run a gloved finger down your cheek, a tender touch that sent shivers down your spine. “Because I think, deep down, you know that life is boring without me.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t, because a part of you—the part that had once followed him into the madness—knew he was right. Life was calm, peaceful… and yet there was a restlessness that had never truly left. A part of you that missed the thrill, the danger, the fire in his eyes.

“No,” you whispered, as much to him as to yourself. “I want a life without all this… this insanity. I want to be normal, to live without looking over my shoulder. Remember my dream? A cottage with a fire place?”

Jerome’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something you could almost call sadness. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not for you. You’re mine. You know it. I know it.” He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re alive when I’m here. You can lie to yourself, try to play house, but we both know you were never going to be happy without me.”

You shook your head, pulling away, struggling to keep the defiance in your voice. “You can’t just barge back into my life and expect everything to go back to… to that. I wanted a fresh start, a life without you.”

He chuckled, tilting his head. “I know,” he said, sounding almost... proud. “That’s what made it so delicious to ruin it.”

His eyes sparkled, and for a split second, you thought you could see the hint of longing in them—a twisted kind of affection that he’d never dare express in words. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you close, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I let you go once, didn’t I?” His voice softened, though his grip was firm, unyielding. “I left you to your cute little life. But then I got to thinking... maybe you didn’t really want it. Maybe you just needed me to remind you of what you’re missing.”

“Jerome, please.” You hated how weak your voice sounded, the way it shook. “You don’t belong in this life. You don’t belong in my life.”

He smirked, unphased, as if he’d heard this all before. “Doll, I belong anywhere I say I belong. And I belong with you.” He took a step back, letting his hands fall to his sides, spreading his arms in a grand, theatrical gesture. “Besides, what fun would it be if I left you alone to fade into mediocrity?”

Your eyes searched his face, looking for anything—anything—that could tell you this was a dream, or that he’d leave again, fade back into the shadows. But you knew, the second he walked back into your life, that he was here to stay. He would haunt every attempt you made at peace, every fleeting moment of normalcy. He was your chaos, and he knew he’d taken a part of you that could never be satisfied without him.

“Jerome,” you said, a pleading edge in your voice, though you knew it was useless. “I don’t want this life with you. I can’t live like this.”

A twisted smile curved his lips. “You can try, doll. But you and I both know that normal was never your destiny. You’re just as sick as I am, deep down, or else you wouldn’t have fallen for me in the first place.” He took a final step toward you, his eyes blazing. “Now, be a good girl and stop fighting what you want.”

You wanted to scream, to shove him away, to deny everything he was saying. But the truth was undeniable: you’d fallen for him, chaos and all. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you had been waiting for this—to feel alive again.

So you surrendered, letting his touch consume you, knowing he’d never truly let you go. Jerome had you, body and soul, inescapable and unforgiving. And no matter how hard you tried, the quiet life you’d built was no match for the storm in his eyes.

NSFW CUT ( hear me out)

Jerome’s hands trailed down your arms, his fingers a stark contrast between soft and unyielding. The air was thick with tension, a silent challenge in his eyes as he held your gaze, daring you to push him away. And maybe you should have. Maybe you should have fought harder for the calm, peaceful life you’d tried to build. But here he was—alive, here, and touching you like he’d never left.

Your heart pounded as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “I can feel you shiver, doll. You want this—don’t lie to me.” His hand traced the curve of your neck, possessive and rough as he pulled you closer, leaving barely an inch between you. The corners of his mouth curled into that manic grin, an expression you knew all too well, filled with a dark, twisted affection that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to muster up words of resistance, something to stop the inevitable, but his lips captured yours before you could speak. His kiss was fierce and consuming, a searing claim that left no room for protest. His hands roamed your body, urgent and greedy, as if making up for every second he’d been gone. He pressed you back against the wall, his grip tightening as his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, where he nipped at your skin, leaving small marks—a visible reminder that he was here, and that you were his.

“You think you can just live your little life without me?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. “Pretend you’re normal? You’re mine, sweetheart. Normal doesn’t exist for us.”

You gasped as he trailed his hand down your side, fingers tracing the fabric of your shirt until he found the hem. He pulled it up, slow enough to watch the anticipation in your eyes, and then tore it off with a grin. “That’s better,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction as he took in the sight of you.

His hands and mouth were everywhere, unrelenting, taking in every inch of exposed skin like he was starved. He paused, looking up at you with a dark glint in his eye. “Say it. Say you missed me.”

You hesitated, but only for a moment, feeling your defenses crumble under his intense gaze. “I… I missed you.”

His grin widened, triumphant and smug. “Good girl,” he whispered, the praise laced with something darker, a promise that he wasn’t done proving you belonged to him.

He moved with an urgency, his hands exploring, claiming every inch of you as he pressed his body against yours, letting you feel the hard line of his need. His lips found yours again, rougher this time, teeth grazing against your lips as his hands settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him.

Before you knew it, he had you backed up against the bed, his hands firm on your shoulders as he pushed you down. He hovered above you, his eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail. There was no gentleness in his gaze, only hunger, obsession.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. He kissed his way down your body, taking his time as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, and lower, until his hands slid under your waistband, peeling away the last of the barriers between you.

His eyes glinted as he looked up at you, an almost predatory smile on his face. “You don’t need normal, sweetheart. You need me.”

#Jerome Valeska #jerome valeska x reader #gotham fox #gotham tv

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