#Faith seed x oc

[inafieldofdaisies]

Ship: The Chevalier and The Siren | Faith x Leslie

“Are you real?”, the words left his mouth, betraying the uncertainty Leslie felt as his hand retreated before it could make contact with her cheek. A part of him dreaded a repeat from the last time, how she had vanished into thin air, how her laugh had haunted him for far too long. Goddamn Bliss. “As real as the next breath you'll take.” He wondered if the smile Faith offered him meant to reassure him or only reel him further into some illusion Calahan would call a mindfuck. Does it even matter? “Yeah?” Silence hung between them as she grasped his hand in hers, warmth spreading across his skin at the touch. The move was a confirmation far stronger than anything she could have spoken out loud.

@strangefable @strafethesesinners @socially-awkward-skeleton @voidika @purplehairsecretlair

@direwombat @raresvtm @theelderhazelnut @imogenkol @wrathfulrook

@josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @dumbassdep @la-grosse-patate

@icecutioner @g0dspeeed @captastra @thesingularityseries @rhettsabbott

@harmonyowl @finding-comfort-in-rain @carlosoliveiraa @shellibisshe @derelictheretic

@jackiesarch @killyourrdarlingss @simonxriley @cassietrn @tommyarashikage

@katsigian @kyberinfinitygems @justasmolbard @cloudofbutterflies92 @simplegenius042

[luckylittlelesbian]

im just thinking about faith getting another “batch” of people to be sent off and turned into angels but one of them just looks so familiar. and she almost doesn’t recognise her cause her brain is so scrambled. but then she does. and she realises it’s that girl she’s known since they were both kids.

peggies are rough and her lip is busted and there’s a bruise on her cheek and it makes something in faith shift. cause she remembers how this girl was there for her through everything. through all her attempts to get clean. and all the nights faith didn’t want to sleep at home. she remembers how soft her now beaten body used to be. and how her now bleeding lips felt against her own.

she remembers how this girl that is now bloodied and bruised, kneeling in front of her with a gun to her head, was there for her before the father ever was. she finally begins to understand that the father wasn’t the only one that cared. and she remembers how she pushed this girl away when he came around.

and maybe she says something like “this one’s not clean enough. she’s not ready yet. let me deal with it.” just to get her alone. the peggies take the rest and they leave. now it’s just the two of them. a fucked up reunion. and maybe this girl gets to her again. just like every time before. and the spell that the father has faith under slowly starts to lift. faith realises the manipulation and the lies. and that bliss is just another drug. just like every time before, her friend talks some sense into her.

and idk maybe they escape together. or take over the cult. or take it down completely. anyway, they live happily ever after or whatever.

[derelictlovefool]

Shiptober Day 23

Prompt: Car Sex + Missionary

Ship: Faith Seed x Deputy Dean Sinclaire

Warning(s): Explicit sexual content, explicit language, strap on, technically bareback, kind of public play too

Words: 1, 713

Having a halloween party seven days before halloween may have seemed stupid to some, but the residents of Hope County were full of people who played by their own rules. One of those rules being; the last week of October was halloween week. Which meant parties every night until halloween night where the whole County put on a celebration.

Dean had never been a party guy, unless that party included plenty of food and watching his friends play video games and complain about their day jobs. He'd agreed to this one, if only because Faith had refused to let him out of bed until he succumbed to her pleas. And when he got to see her in a far too short light blue dress with fake, fluffy white wings on the back and a golden halo held up by a thin piece of wire above her head he decided it was more than worth it.

Meanwhile; he wore a tattered plaid shirt, unbuttoned with nothing under it at Faith's request, and ripped jeans. With some light makeup to make a simple, low effort attempt at a werewolf outfit that seemed to appease everyone well enough. Faith was more than appeased by it, her hands wandering to his bare chest and stomach plenty even before they left for the party.

Those wandering hands didn't calm down at any point during the night, in fact after they both had downed two or so beers she had attached herself to his side. Her hands groping his stomach, body pressed up against his side as she grinded on him and her painted lips leaving a trail of hickies along his neck. Dean had returned the advances, of course he had, hands subtly slipping just under her dress to caress her sensitive skin.

At some point it got too loud, too hot—Faith tugged Dean away to his car and pushed him down in the back seat, crawling ontop of him and locking their lips in a clumsy kiss. Her hands dragged down his chest, his dug into her thighs and their hips grinded against each other in a slow, agonising rhythm. 

"Fuck you look so good tonight," Dean mumurs in between heated kisses, pushing her dress up and gropping her ass. She smiles and leans back, hands resting on his stomach as she puts on a small show by squeezing her arms against her chest, her breasts basically popping out of the silky dress as she did. She giggles at Dean's expression, brown eyes hazy and locked onto the soft mounds of flesh as he all but begins to drool. 

"You want me to take this off baby?" She asks coyly, reaching her hands up to push the thin straps off her shoulders, the blue fabric sliding down another fraction and revealing more of her chest. Dean nods almost immediately, swallowing thickly as his hands knead her soft flesh in anticipation. Neither of them seemed to care they were in the middle of an open field where any of the other party goers could walk by and catch a peek at the both of them. 

There were probably mutliple couples fucking at this party already anyways, at least they had the decency to take it to Dean's car before going at it.

Faith shimmies the dress down, letting it bunch up around her waist and exposing her bare chest. Her nipples were hard from the cold air and Dean pushes himself up hastily, Faith sliding down his lap and giggling as he begins pressing kisses along her chest. He drags his warm tongue over one of her nipples and her head falls back, a gentle moan escaping her lips as she buries her hands in his hair. She grinds down on him again, her lacy white underwear dragging across his jeans and creating a delicious friction.

Faith could feel his strap on through the rough fabric, hard and ready for her. She was glad she asked him to wear it, the low ache between her legs basically begging for it to be inside of her.

"Take your pants off," She commands, her own neediness making it sound more like begging as she lifts herself up. She helps him unbutton his jeans and tries to keep off him as he shimmies them down to his knees. She stops his hands as they hook under the waistband of his boxers, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she eyes the peach toned silicone peeking out the top. 

She scoots herself back, to the point her ass is hanging out of the car, and bends over to lick the head; her hands planted on his stomach. Dean lets out a shaky breath, intoxicated by the filthy sight as she sucks on it feverently. She pulls down his boxers, six inches of girthy silicone springing free into the air and she greedily takes most of it in her mouth. 

"You look so pretty like that," Dean sighs, reaching a hand down to tangle in her hair as she bobbed her head. She moans, looking up at him, her blue eyes clouded with desire. She brings her head back up, letting the toy fall from her lips; a string of saliva tauntingly dripping from her tongue and down the length of the toy. She wastes no time crawling back up his body, pressing a deep, passionate kiss to his lips as she lines herself up on his strap, pulling her underwear to the side and lowering herself onto him.

She moans into his mouth as it slides inside of her with ease, stretching her and filling her just the way she liked. A whimper breaks through the moan as Dean juts his hips upward, thrusting deeper into her. She rolls her hips as he continues thrusting into her, holding himself up by his elbow while his other hand holds the back of her neck. The car begins to rock with their movements and Faith's expression twists into a sinful smile, breathing ragged as Dean trails wet kisses down her neck.

"That feels so good, fuck," Faith breathes out, letting her head fall back as Dean sucks on her neck. She lifts herself up, dropping herself down and meets Dean's thrusts eagerly. Her thighs were coated with her own slickness already, that heat pooling between her legs bubbling into molten need as she bounces on Dean's lap with reckless abandon. Dean leans back to watch her for a moment, a small grin on his face as she gasps and moans shamelessly, her hands holding onto his shoulders as she rides him.

"God damn… I could watch you ride me all night," He murmurs, hand trailing down to her hip and digging into the soft flesh as she moves against him. 

"Make me do all the work, typical," She huffs playfully, grinning cheekily as a look of half-hearted offence flashes across Dean's face. In seconds he flips them both over, a small squeal escaping Faith as her back meets the leather seat. She can't help but laugh as Dean grins wolfishly down at her, but it soon melts into a breathy moan as he rolls his hips against hers; the new angle absolutely maddening.

"Yes—Fuck! Faster, please!" She gasps, grabbing at his back and grinding her hips up uselessly against him. Dean grabs her hips, rough but not enough to hurt, and starts thrusting into her with quick, deep thrusts. Faith digs her nails into Dean's back, her head falling back against the seat as broken moans tumble from her parted lips. Their bodies slide against one another in perfect tandem, the thin layer of sweat forming creating a filthy wet sound as their hips meet.

"That feel good, baby?"

Faith feels her breath hitch in her throat at the low tone of Dean's voice, the purr of the pet name against her skin as he nips at her collarbone sending shivers up her spine.

Faith squirms and grins in delight as Dean slides one hand between them to toy with the sweet bundle of nerves between her thighs, the extra stimulation shooting fireworks through her body as he matches the rhythm of his thrusts with his hand. 

"Oh god," she chokes out, eyes fluttering closed as the tension between her legs coils up tighter and tighter, each rub from Dean's nimble fingers and deep thrust from his strap sending her closer to the edge. Dean presses hot kisses to her neck and collarbone as her back arches, nipping at her skin as she whimpers and clings to him.

Faith's thighs begin to tremble, her foggy mind going completely blank as waves of pleasure wash over her. Her mouth falls open in a silent cry, any noise stuck in her throat as she's rocked by her orgasm. Dean doesn't slow his movements, each flick of his fingers against her clit shooting electric shocks through her entire body. The wet sounds only double as her cum coats the silicone toy now driving her into the blissful state of overstimulation.

"You look so pretty when you come baby," Dean breathes out as her voice finally comes back to her, his name falling from her lips in between her pants and strained moans. She looks up at him with bleary eyes, brings her hands up to his face and pulls him down into a sloppy kiss as he keeps fucking her into the leather seat. She can barely think, lost completely to the pleasure dancing underneath her skin and the taste of his tongue. She wraps her legs behind him, trapping him against her and giggles against his lips.

"You can take me home now," She whispers, nipping at his bottom lip as he finally slows his hips.

"You're gonna have to let me get up for me to do that babe," He grins, trailing his hand up and down her heaving body mindlessly.

"What if I ride you while you drive?" Faith suggests, eyes suddenly wide as the idea pops into her drunken brain. Dean laughs, head falling against her shoulder as she cards her hands through his hair.

"We would crash—and I dunno if I should be driving right now sweetheart,"

"Hm. Okay, keep fucking me until you sober up then,"

"Ma'am yes ma'am,"

[enormality]

they need couples therapy ASAP!!

[simplegenius042]

"What Archetypes Are Your OCs?" Quiz, Top Four Fictional Crushes and The Worst Ship Chart Ever

Tagged by @shellibisshe @inafieldofdaisies @josephseedismyfather @voidika and @imogenkol

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @icecutioner @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @rhettsabbott @carlosoliveiraa @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @turbo-virgins @aceghosts @afarcryfrommymain @derelictheretic @deputy-morgan-malone @wrathfulrook @softtidesworld @shallow-gravy @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @skoll-sun-eater @thewanderer-000 and @lulu2992 (for Top Four Fictional crushes, but you can join with the other tags if you want).

Three results for OC archetypes, a listing of four of my fictional crushes (oh fuck-) and two worst ship charts ever. You can find the quiz here. You can find these and the template for the chart below.

Three results for Archetypes for OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore.

ALFRED "JEFF" HOPPER (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

I don't this is necessarily correct. Throughout the first two sagas (The Pefect Storm and The Omniscient Rule sagas), Jeff has been nothing more than a supporting and often times tertiary protagonist. Maybe not a main but definitely important. He has moments of selfishness, sure, but that's not often. The only really selfish "messed shit up for everyone" moment was when he took the opportunity to change course of events which worsened the space-time continuum while he had been helping the Time Guard chase after a time-travelling mass serial killer fugitive who had been making Time unstable in the first place, which wasn't even out of malicious intent, rather he just wanted his bestest friend back from non-existence, that being Lena Elliot. So yeah, he screwed up, but not to a villainous extent.

ALEXANDER KHAOS (THE SILVER CHRONICLES)

Oh god another villain result. Which... is more accurate for Alexander than it is for Jeff. He's more of an antagonist to Silva, that's for sure (being the right-hand man and Chosen Extraordinaire, which is basically Jacob's top elite Chosen, of Jacob Seed). He has unresolved trauma in regards to his time in Wellington Wells and has embraced his role in Hope County in Eden's Gate, though if a stronger or more ideological compatible person came around, he'd take his loyalists (which includes Hannah McCalkin) and leave Jacob behind.

ALPH DOLEN (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE)

Link to Minecraft Poem for anyone interested. Oh good, I worried it wasn't going to be different. And OH WOW! Alph got read to filth here. Kind of ironic that he craves love and wants to be surrounded by love but is the "Lone Wanderer". Doubly ironic when he's ghoulified... something that should be where he is rejected by everyone and everything, but ends up with more than he could ever ask for, especially with Ress and Amata... until Arcane Urias ruins everything, as he does.

Here's the list of my top four fictional crushes:

Maki Zen'in - Jujutsu Kaisen (Specifically post-Shibuya Arc)

(I want to be lifted up and carried bridal-style in her arms)

2. Soundwave - Transformers Prime (when I was young and both completely blind without glasses I didn't know I required and literacy blind to whatever I was watching, I thought this Soundwave (the only one I had been introduced to at the time) was female... he's still pretty aesthetically pleasing though, cool AF, and a caring parent to Laserbeak so...)

3. Faith Seed - Far Cry 5 (daydreaming-about-frollicking-in-green-flower-fields-and-living-in-cozy-cottages lesbians UNITE!)

(however fair warning she might get you high enough to talk to God and try to convince you to join her older adoptive brother's cult)

4. GLaDOS - Portal

(...her soothing condescending voice that belittles and tries to get you killed and her smooth + robust curves in her awesome design enchant me...)

Honourable Mention goes to (look'em up):

5. Sea Empress - Subnautica

Two of the worst ship charts for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters.

Translation for the unreadable:

What draws them together? Initially the mystery surrounding each other as no one except a very specific few know much about their former lives, and their opposing factions forces them to interact a lot, and thanks to the Bliss, that's what they mostly end up doing. Plus they mostly fit each others preferences.

What stands in the way? They are at war in two opposing factions, one that wants to kill/detain (Resistance) and the other that will kill but will try to indoctrinate Silva (Eden's Gate). Opposing morality, beliefs and trust issues also get in the way.

What are their good traits? Silva and Faith find companionship with another due to their similar past/current circumstances, and Silva's compassion and unexpected kindness is bizarre and appealing to Faith, as her cunning and passions are appealing to Silva. Both are willing to sabotage their own factions to keep the other around a bit longer, plus their determination to find a peaceful resolution.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Trust, or lack there of. Silva is weary that Faith will report anything she says to Joseph to better get her into Eden's Gate, while Faith is weary that Silva is trying to get close to manipulate her into coming out into the open to better take her down. Both are correct in the beginning but later down the line it gets muddied. Silva also refuses to speak of her past (understandable) except for the vaguest of truths while Faith doesn't fully open herself up in fear of being scorned. Not to mention it's been a long while since Silva had been in a romantic relationship and Faith is very inexperienced.

Describe them with one trope: Toxic Toxic "I can fix her" & "I can make her worse/better" Enemies-To-Lovers Yuri.

Translation for the unreadable (Also note that when Jennifer is talking about her partner, it's mostly complaining about Sonya, and Sonya's image is more a reference to what I closely envision her as):

What draws them together? They both fail to kill each other and have a bone to pick with both Dicko and Sir Enigma Malvolio and they're also considered "non-human" now.

What stands in their way? Sonya is unstable to the point she's agitated enough to kill others on instinct which Jennifer is trying to control much to Sonya's distaste. There's also the fact Sonya is like a 12-foot something mecha-beastie which she doesn't think Jennifer finds attractive. Jennifer is in denial of her feelings and believes if she loses control of Sonya then it will be right back to square-one like it was with Dicko or she'd die, either one.

What are their good traits? They both have a common interest revenge against Dicko (successful) and Malvolio (work-in-progress), and Sonya acts as Jennifer's trump card and intimidation factor in their illegal business. Both also have an appreciation for their brutal honesty and openness with one another and relatability (with Jennifer as a synthetic human and Sonya's brain transferred to a mecha-beastie). They have no problems committing murder together.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Jennifer is used to being treated as an object of lust and since her freedom from Dicko and take over of his business has pushed to be in control of everything (including Sonya) and is trying to ensure she doesn't lose that control and denying all romantic/sexual feelings, while Sonya is a victim of Malvolio and his treatment of her has left a lot of psychological scars where she dehumanizes herself and does everything in her power to prove it correct too.

Describe them with one trope: Toxic "I can make you so-so-so worse baby" bloody murder Yuri situationship/partnership on a mission of revenge with a pinch of monsterfucking and goes from "I want to kill you" to "I'd kill for you" pipeline.

Template below:

[the-silver-chronicles]

Siblings Q&A | Silva & Elsa Omar ONESHOT

Tagged by @raresbaby and @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @voidika @icecutioner @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Hey guys, SimpleGenius here! Decided to turn this short Q&A into a legitimate Oneshot for The Silver Chronicles, involving two OCs of mine; Silva and her younger half-sister, Elsa, set in a time in Hope County where Silva had no knowledge of Eden's Gate and the Omar's experienced a time of normalcy. There should be nothing but fluff, yes-siree. Oneshot below the cut:

The buzz of the worn-out camcorder complimented the numbing visuals of the frozen static, but swiftly the unused device booted up.

The specter on the screen was both haunting and ethereal, a memory from a time so much simpler. A normality so sparse in time.

With her trusty camcorder in hand, Elsa admired herself in the mirror. Hair twisted in many small blonde braids, wearing a white sundress laced with magenta patterns that looked like flowers.

The camcorder fizzled, the screen going blank for a moment. She gave it a good whack, faded red paint dusting her black gloves, and the camcorder proceeded to work like normal.

Elsa carried the camcorder away from the mirror, passing through into a lounge. Her hermana, dressed in a yellow flannel and black jeans, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, seated on their couch having a cup of coffee.

"You ready, Sylvie?" Elsa asked, shuffling cards out of frame. Sylvester placed her cup onto the coffee table, laced gloves fixing creases on a dress she's not wearing. Realizing this, she stops the action and awkwardly cups her knees.

"Si, uh, seguro," Sylvester muttered out, clearing her throat, "How does this work?"

"Essentially, from what Rae-Rae told me, this is a fun little game where siblings answer questions for that net-work mambo-jumbo," Elsa explained, and again shuffled the flash cards she prepared.

"And since we're both sane enough to not invite people to put their noses into where they don't belong, I thought maybe, instead of doing this for strangers, we do it for Persephone," Elsa elaborates further.

Sylvester blinks, grey eyes staring at her younger hermana like a doe caught in headlights. She tilts her head, her right cheek sunk in, chewing her inner cheek.

"Elsa, she's una," Sylvester points out.

"Yeah, I know that," Elsa sighs, understanding but exasperated, "But she won't be for long. When she's older, we can show her this. Let her get to know her mamá and tía some more."

Sylvester's lips didn't quite frown, but she wasn't unconvinced either. "Derecha," she nodded, still wrapping her head around the camcorder's functions.

Elsa was likely grinning behind the camcorder, "Exactly! Now, to make this a bit more fun, I shuffled the questions out of order. Now let's begin."

Elsa showed the flash cards, the shuffle complete, and flipped over the first one.

"Question 19: Who has the worst ideas?" Elsa asked aloud.

Sylvester snorted, uncharacteristic of the person she's supposed to be, a small teasing smile on her healing chapped lips, "Well we both know who that is."

Elsa let out an exaggerated gasp, feigned offense, "Why Sylvie, I am but a respectable, humble and pious shopkeeper. Do you insinuate that I am anything but?"

"Bold words coming from the local daredevil who likes to worry her hermana to near-death," Sylvester retorts, arms crossed.

"...I'm guessing Rae-Rae snitched about my escapes on her roof?"

Sylvester had no need to answer, though Elsa must have seen that she had nothing to worry over, as Sylvester's smile held only amusement.

"Next question," Elsa declared, moving on, "Number 7: Most stable romantic life?"

Both wondered briefly, and Elsa states, "I gotta give this one to you Sylvie. You managed one relationship with Irene far longer than any ones I've had in our time here."

Sylvester narrows her eyes at Elsa, raising a quizzical brow, "Is that so? You and Ezekiel were like two peas in a pod every time you both talked with each other."

"That was brief, and we weren't official. Just some one-upping through flirtation. And he had been a real jerk at first, remember? At least you and Irene had a better start," Elsa deflects, waving a hand onscreen as she desperately denied her hermana's accusations.

Sylvester merely nods her head in feigned agreement as Elsa brings out the next question.

"Question 12: Best memory together?"

Sylvester leaned back on the couch, looking up for a moment. With Sylvester pondering which memory she liked the most, Elsa already found one.

"I'd say buying this residence," Elsa admits, "A place we can forever call our home. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sylvester looked to Elsa, and gave a short nod, "Si, it is up there. But... I'd say my favorite would be when it first rained. Just... playing and dancing like kids do... like we should have been allowed to do."

Elsa must have sensed the solemness in her voice, and replied, "At least we got to do it."

Sylvester hummed, appreciative of that fact.

"Question 15: Would you rather not being able to shower for a month or have the same clothes for a month?"

Sylvester was immediate in her response, "Not shower for a month, obviously. We can just bathe in baths instead."

Elsa laughed, cheerful and loud, "Never thought you'd be the one to take advantage of a loophole Sylvie."

Sylvester smile wholeheartedly, grey eyes sincere as she admitted, "I learned the best from my crafty little hermana."

"Aww," Elsa lightheartedly cooed, and proceeded forward, "Question 5: Who sleeps the most?"

Sylvester raised her hand, "Mother of one very curious and fussy niñita, right here."

"No arguments there," Elsa replied, "Question 14: Dream trip together?"

In a moment of synchronized thought between hermanas, they both state, "Spain."

"Question 16: Who's the older one?"

Sylvester raised her hand once again. Elsa flipped to the next flash card, "Question 10: Who had a weird phase?"

Both pondered for a moment, trying to think of any moment in their lives of such a phase.

"I don't think we were ever given a chance to do so," Elsa states. Sylvester hummed in agreement, shaking her head in confirmation.

"Alright then! Question 6..."

Elsa paused, reading the flash card: 'Who's Mom and Dad's favorite? (If there is one?)'

Sylvester waits, worry building in her gut, and asks, "What's the question?"

Elsa hesitated, but responded, "Who's.... mo- ahem, father's favorite..."

Sylvester briefly gaped, but recovered, stating, "Well, we both know the answer to that question is neither of us."

Elsa hummed, throwing the card away as she proceeded with the next one, "Question 18: Role Model? Mine's you, of course. But who's yours Sylvie?"

"I'd have to say Paul," Sylvester mustered out, clearing her throat, "He saved me after all. Raised me. Gave me something that we were denied."

"I wish I got to meet him," Elsa admits, "From what you told me, he was funny and dramatic."

Sylvester smiled at Elsa's words, "You two would have adored each other."

Allowing Sylvester a moment to keep herself together, Elsa proceeded to the next card, "Question 3: Who eats the most?"

She raised her hand this time, the various rings displayed for the camcorder to catch, "That'd be me! Speaking of which..."

Sylvester cringed, swiftly adding, "I had a sandwich earlier."

But Elsa was not deterred, "While that's good, you skipped breakfast nor have you had any fruits or snacks prior to lunch."

"I'll have something later," Sylvester flimsily promised. Elsa, not satisfied, retorts, "I'll hold you to that."

"Question 8: Worst habit of each one?"

Sylvester sighed, "Well, you already know mine. Though your recklessness is concerning considering your condition Elsa."

"I'm not made of glass, Sylvie."

"Elsa, your bones are brittle and break easily."

"...Okay I'm a little like glass, but I'm not stupid. I can take care of myself. I know what I'm doing when I climb a tree, or go bungee jumping or help Rae-Rae around her farm," Elsa defends. Her hermana replies, "I... I know that Elsa, but even so, you've been seeking out riskier and riskier thrills lately, and I can't... help but worry."

"I appreciate it," Elsa assures, and adds, "But you worry way too often."

Sylvester doesn't argue, and Elsa takes advantage of the momentary silence, "Question 4: Who has been on the weirdest situations?"

Neither hermana could think of either one being in a "weird" situation. Sylvester opted to gesture to Elsa, "Well, given your escapades so far, I vote you."

Elsa huffed, "Seeking thrill is not the same as getting stuck in chance and strange situations."

"And how likely am I going to be in such situations?"

Elsa mumbles, indistinctly playful, and moves on, "Question 20: A GIANT insect is on the wall, who's taking care of it?"

Sylvester raises a brow, "Whoever finds it first."

"Pfft, a bug ain't that scary," Elsa comments, "Question 17: Describe each other in three words."

Elsa and Sylvester held gaze for a moment blurted out their answer.

"My badass worrywart-hermana." "Daring little hermana."

There was a silent beat before both responded to such descriptions.

"Surely that is four words, Elsa," Sylvester argued, but Elsa interrupted with her pointer finger as she replied, "Ah, but you forget my lovely older hermana, the power a hyphen holds."

Sylvester shook her head in disbelief, but did not debate further as Elsa brought forth the next question, "Question 1: Who looks the... ah mierda, another one?"

'Who looks the most like dad?' the question read.

"Is it another relating to... him?" Sylvester tested, her lips pursed in a thin line, her voice softer and quieter than normal. Her grey eyes dulled, hands clenched into her jeans.

Elsa sighs, a hand going out of the camcorder's view, probably to play with her blonde locks, and most likely undo a braid in the process.

"I... Do you mind if we skip this one?" Elsa asks, and Sylvester eagerly nods, much to Elsa's relief, "Question 11: Best cook of the family?"

Elsa answers before Sylvester could have a chance, "Yeah, I can't cook for shit, that's you right there, Sylvie."

Sylvester closes mouth, making no comment on Elsa's lack of culinary skill. Elsa flips the next flash card, "Question 9: Who's the most dramatic?! Why that would be me!"

Sylvester nodded with absolute certainty.

"Question 8: Worst habit of each one?"

Sylvester beat Elsa to the tea, "I got this. I'm a nagging worrywart who forgets her own needs sometimes, and you, mi querida hermana, are a crafty daredevil with a big ego that often gets you into trouble."

"Hah! Wow, you know me so well," Elsa said, flipping to the next flash card, but mentions, "However, you're wrong in your description; you're not a nagger."

Sylvester doesn't visibly react to this, but she seems to be stuck in a forlorn gaze. However, the next question snaps her out of this odd pause, and Sylvester listens attentively.

"Question 13... uh, worst memory together?"

Sylvester and Elsa pondered together, brainstorming.

"Our entire childhood was jodido and never the best," Elsa mentions. Sylvester frowns, and points out, "Si, but the run for the docks weren't any better."

Elsa couldn't not hum in agreement, and she moves on, "Last Question. Number 2: Who looks the most like mom...?"

Sylvester looks baffled as Elsa blows a raspberry, "Irrelevant. We've never met nor did we have the same mother."

Elsa throws away that flashcard out of the camcorder's view, much to Sylvester's visible annoyance.

"And... that's it. We finished the game. Yay!" Elsa lightly cheered, her camcorder focusing on Sylvester, "So... food for thought?"

Silva watched herself, younger and with so much more innocence, more hope, than she had now. The camcorder in her gloved hands was running hot, the flashing sunset-red indicating a coming end, but she could care less, holding onto the memory in her hands for as long as she could.

Sylvester chewed her inner cheek and said, "Besides two nosy ones, I'd say it was... nice?"

Elsa's mock offended gasp was as exaggerated as the younger hermana's mannerisms had always been, "Just 'nice'? This is a memorial moment for the both of us. It is evidence for Persephone to watch and rewatch for years to come."

Elsa placed the camcorder on the coffee table, and sat down next to Sylvester on the couch, a big grin spread out, pearly teeth shown. She grabs a hold of Sylvester's laced gloved hands, despite the latter's exasperation over the former's words.

"Wasn't it you who emphasized the importance of this? To immortalize ourselves through memories our family can visit decades after we're gone? Whether it be through ink, our voices or our image? You have to agree that this is quite a viable way to do that," Elsa assures Sylvester, who's doubt dissipated the longer she thought.

The camcorder began to buffer, the orange-red blinking faster, but Silva continued to watch, wanting to savoir this for as long as she could.

Sylvester's grey eyes looked to Elsa, softly asking, "Okay. But I have to ask; are you sure?"

Elsa laughed, her dimples caught by the camcorder's lens, as she says-

Nothing.

The camcorder's screen was blank, only reflecting Silva. The blinking light gone, the heat prevalent, and despite desperately pushing the power button repeatedly, Silva knew she wouldn't get those reassuring words she needed to hear. Not now. Nor ever again.

Silva's shoulders slumped, still sat down on the old wooden floor in the decrepit corpse of her home. The home she had taken care of for almost a decade. Even after her hermana's death, despite the ache for her visits. Even after Persephone's passing, though the yearning for her hija's laughter echoing in the halls hurt more and more with their absence.

And now... her residence, her home, was nothing more than a burned and decrepit husk full of dust and debris. All the memories that mattered, all the memories she held close to her, the journals, the photos, the shrines they rested under, were all tattered and ripped and frayed and singed and gone. Just gone.

And now... with exception to Silva's own visage of Elsa... the last thing of her hermana that she could have shown to her familia, could no longer function. The Collapse had reduced the resources required to charge such a small device to ash. Even if something survived, the camcorder was aged, and had some bugs.

Silva flipped the lid screen closed, clutching the little camcorder in her gloved hands, pushing it against her chest as she let out a shaky breath. The foliage that claimed her house rustled as a breeze swept past.

She shook where she sat, holding onto the pain, the knowledge that change has come and another chance away from her before she could appreciate it.

The wood creaked, and Silva didn't want to look at her amor's beautiful face, didn't want to shoulder her with more of her own pain and grief. But a dainty hand cupped her face, and Silva couldn't resist, relenting to her beloved's request.

Her tearful grey eyes connected with the warm green of Faith's. Her beloved, her esposa, her amor. Her Faith.

I am hers. And she is mine. As we both vowed.

And Silva wouldn't hide herself away from her. Couldn't. Even if she tried. How could she? They both knew the best and worst of each other. Intimately.

There was no judgement pitting them against one another anymore. Like now, there was only understanding. The grief for a present that they could no longer return to.

Silva did not resist the tears that fell across her cheeks. Nor did she push away Faith when she wrapped her arms around her. An embrace that held a strength that others underestimated about her. Both possessive and a comfort. All to tell Silva, I'm here.

Silva felt two more pairs of arms hold around her. The first was of her inventive Azriel, her grip unyielding as she buried herself into Silva's shoulder, just like she had done when she found her at age nine.

And the second came from her youngest. Her Mercy, clutching onto her with small hands, light-brown hair nuzzling into her body, perhaps not quite knowing why her madre was sad now that they were out of the bunker, but doing her best to lighten the load with her presence.

Silva placed down the old camcorder, and did her best to compensate in the embrace by wrapping her arms around her Faith and precious hijas. Her familia.

The grief was ever present, but this time, Silva would not be lost to it.

[A/n] I lied, the fluff was merely a front, there's only angst here. Well, mostly at least. Set before Old Dusk (the New Dawn WIP), with only a camcorder showing pre-Silva's Hope stuff. They probably only recently left Silva's bunker and well, Silva's obviously gonna be depressed about the state of everything. At least she has her family to keep her grounded? Also I haven't written in a while, so if it was repetitive or tone death, my bad, I've been trying to get my motivation back. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this lovely (and angsty) oneshot, and see y'all in the next one!

[moonliteve]

tfw you're sent to stop a doomsday cult but you are not immune to four very charming and sexy people

[ashinreverse]

WIP (I have no idea how to draw men)

[silverapplestock]

Had so much fun doing this commission for @agamemgoth of Jacob Seed and their Deputy! 🥺💕 I miss drawing the Seeds 💖

[inafieldofdaisies]

Ship Moodboard | Faith x Leslie | The Chevalier and The Siren

“We're connected by a thread, whenever we're apart, I still feel the pull of you.”

@socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @florbelles @corvosattano @cassietrn @direwombat @voidika @onehornedbeast @macs-babies @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @finding-comfort-in-rain @purplehairsecretlair @la-grosse-patate @marivenah @carlosoliveiraa @theelderhazelnut @dumbassdep

[curlymantis]

“When it’s just us, together here. No John, no resistance, no cares. I see the person you used to be and they were so gentle…”

YALL, @/angelofthebliss (Insta) absolutely surprised me and blew away with this marvellous gift for my birthday of my Farcry 5 OC and Faith Seed having a precious moment to themselves.

I love this so so much, i can’t even put it into words. A million hugs for you, you amazing artist and friend 💚💚

[derelictlovefool]

Shiptober Day 14

Prompt: A Misunderstanding

Ship: Faith Seed x Piper Vasquez

Warning(s): Canon-typical violence, non-canon compliant

Words: 1, 368

Piper throws a punch before the deputy even turns around, catching the underside of his jaw on her knuckles and knocking him back with the impact. Casper is trailing behind her, not making any move to stop his infuriated little sister as she follows the deputy as he staggers back; both of her fists connecting with parts of his body as she hits him. The deputy brings his arms up to protect his face from the onslaught, confused words melding together in a broken yelp as he leans back against the tree she'd shoved him up against.

"Piper—What the fuck?" He asks when he manages to catch a glimpse of Piper's tearstained face, her brown eyes bloodshot and filled with fury.

"How fucking could you? I told you she needed help you fucking bastard!" She sobs angrily, not letting up on her punches as more tears fall from her eyes. The deputy grabs her wrists and swings her around, holding her against the tree, she snarls and jerks violently, trying to get out of his grip.

"Cas get his fucking ass off of me!" She shouts, looking over the deputy's shoulder at her brother who stays put. He shakes his head gently, blue eyes unreadable as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"You picked this fight hawk, you can finish it," He grunts and Piper scoffs in astonishment.

"Wow, okay, fuck you too, why even come with me if you're just gonna watch?" She asks, kicking the deputy's shin and managing to shove him back. He stumbles back and stops a few feet in front of Casper, glancing at him before having to dodge another flying fist.

"What the fuck is happening right now?" He asks, swatting Piper's hands and doing his best to dodge any limbs swinging at him. 

"Heard on the radio you took down Faith," Casper answers, voice stern as he watches Piper uselessly try to land another hit. He could see her frustration growing each time the deputy evaded her, refusing to throw any hits back at her.

"You killed her! After everything I told you, you fucking killed her!" Piper cries and a look of realisation washes over the deputy's face. He grabs her wrists again, kicking her leg down as she tries to kick him and spins her in his arms; hooking one arm around her neck and the other pinning her arms to her sides.

"Piper, stop it—this is a misunderstanding," He stresses, voice strained with the effort of holding her still.

"Misunderstanding my ass, what is there to misunderstand? You're a fucking murderer you fucking pig fuck—fuck you!" Piper rants in anger, spit flying in the air as she swings her head back. The deputy groans as her skull smacks into his nose. Piper manages to swing her elbow back into his ribs and shove herself away from him.

He staggers back, holding his nose and holding his other hand up in between them—similar to the way one holds their hand out when facing off with an angry wolf.

"Cas could you help me man? I can explain if you give me a fucking second," The deputy asks, looking over at the other man who seems to mull over his words for a moment before letting out a tired sigh.

"Hold it Pip," He mutters, only to receive a string of cusses thrown his way as Piper descends upon the deputy again. This time before she can land a punch Casper grabs her arm and pulls her back, his larger frame making it easier to restrain her than it was for the deputy.

"Fuck off Casper! Who's side are you on?" Piper's voice is watery, anger blistering as she struggles against her brother.

"If he hasn't got anythin' worth hearin' you can go back to wailing on him," Cas grumbles, arms holding tight around her torso as she finally stops thrashing around. She lets out a shaky breath, sniffing and ducking her head as her chest heaves unevenly. The deputy straightens up and eyes her cautiously, nodding to Casper in thanks.

"If you two come back with me to Dutch's bunker you'll understand what actually happened," He says slowly, Casper's eyes squinting as he stares him down. He couldn't find anything but sincerity in the lines of his face and he moves to block Piper from his view for a moment, holding her shoulders and lifting her face to look at him.

Her face is twisted into an expression of pure anguish and he tries to wipe away the cascading tears with a gentle touch.

"We ain't got much to lose here, so let's just check it out alright? No fussin' about it," 

Piper considers his words before giving a weary nod, her fire flickering as she sags against his chest. Casper squeezes her shoulder gently, kissing the top of her hair and turning to look at the deputy over his shoulder.

"This better be good because I wasn't lying when I said i'd let her wail on you again,"

"It will be, trust me,"

Dutch's bunker feels cramped with all three of them walking through the tight hallways, the deputy leading the two siblings into Dutch's main room. The older man looks up from the radio and scrunches his face up before heaving a heavy sigh.

"Kid if you keep bringing people to hide away here i'm gonna run out of fuckin' room,"

"They're not staying, they're here to see Faith,"

"Wait—what?" Piper grabs the deputy's arm when he tries to turn around and leave the room, her brown eyes locking with his as he looks down at her. There was a faint bruise forming on the bridge of his nose and he yanks his arm back gently, his demeanour nothing but exhausted.

"I didn't kill her but we need people to think she's dead or they will try to kill her—just, stay here," He sighs and disappears around the corner, walking further into the bunker. Casper catches Piper as she wobbles in place, grabbing onto him for stability as a thousand emotions flash across her freckled face. She covers her mouth with a shaky hand as her brows knit together, her heart beating so loud she was sure Casper could hear it. 

Dutch scoots past them awkwardly, muttering under his breath as he takes his leave. It was for the best that he wasn't a part of this.

Two sets of footsteps come back down the hall and Piper backs up, nearly hiding herself behind Casper as she stares at the empty doorway. And then she's there, blue eyes and messy light brown hair dull under the bunker's dim lighting; she's wearing a large baggy t-shirt and ripped jeans and Piper can see the remnants of scratches and bruises littering her arms and face. The deputy stays put as she steps into the room, Casper sending her a steely glare as he walks past her to stand with the deputy.

Piper swallows thickly, trying to ground herself as Faith watches her with uncertainty etched into her features.

"I didn't think you'd be so upset about me dying, considering…" Faith trails off as Piper's face once again scrunches up, tears welling up in her eyes. Tears well up in Faith's eyes and she purses her lips together to try and stop herself from crying, the two women at a standstill only one foot away from each other as the tension in the air coiled around them suffocatingly.

"I missed you so fucking much," Piper sobs, throwing her pride to the side for now and stepping forward; stretching her arms out to grab Faith and pull her into a tight hug. Faith wraps her arms around Piper's torso and buries her face away in her shoulder, her own sobs wracking through her as she clings to her ex lover.

"I'm sorry," Faith whimpers against Piper's shirt, digging her fingers into the faded fabric. Piper can't manage any words through her soft cries, her heart heavy as she holds Faith flush against her; revelling in the feeling of her pulse and ragged breathing. She was alive; she was alive and here and Piper was never going to let her go again.

[wrathfulrook]

Oh the Bliss

Pairing: Female Deputy (Patience Ekner) x Faith Seed

Rating: E

Warnings: Dubcon at best, since Faith loves to use her Bliss :)

Word count: 2k

Summary: Faith decides the deputy would make the perfect Angel for her, and decides to take her for test run.

Read on ao3 here.

Faith circled the blissed-out deputy, hungry eyes meeting blank ones. She didn’t know or care what the deputy was thinking, seeing. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was how well she took to the drug. And, god, did she take to it. She would make a perfect Angel.

All Joseph had said was that the deputy was to be kept alive and made to join the flock. Still, she knew he’d prefer she not be an Angel. Jacob was training her to join the ranks of his Chosen. John wanted her to confess, to join the devoted through him. And although Joseph would almost certainly prefer one of those options, Faith felt confident she could get away with elevating the deputy. She was Joseph’s beloved baby sister, succeeding where all other Faiths had failed. She’d perfected the bliss formula, finished the Path, and even erected his monument. Yes, her leash was long and she knew it.

And it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

Besides, the deputy wouldn’t be just any Angel. She’d be special. Always by her side. Joseph may even like that, how she could serve as a symbol to the Resistance. A fallen hero, elevated to Faith’s favorite Angel. She shivered in pleasure at the idea.

Still twirling around the sedate deputy, she hummed her tune, keeping her calm and lost in the Bliss. She let her fingers wander, traipsing over her still form as she moved. Finally stopping in front of the woman, she raised one small hand to the band holding her braided hair back, and let it loose, fluffing it over her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, admiring its length and its silky texture. It was a beautiful blonde, just darker than hers. She’d let her keep her hair, she decided. After all, Angels were shaved for hygienic purposes, to keep their hair from matting as they labored in the dirt. But the deputy was going to be her special Angel, and her hair was just so attractive. She’d keep it.

“Would you like that?” she asked in her lilting voice, despite the fact she hadn’t voiced her previous thoughts aloud.

Even so, the deputy hummed an affirmative, and Faith smiled brightly. She was so good, so pliant. She’d be such an obedient Angel for her.

Faith’s small hand reached up, and she used two fingers to gently trace the deputy’s lightly parted, soft, pink lips. She pushed her lower lip down and Faith giggled at the pillowy sensation her pouty lips provided. It would be best to keep her muzzled in public, when her mouth wasn’t in use. And Faith would be sure to put it to good use.

Her core pulsed at the thought and she let out a gentle, pleased sigh at the sensation. She couldn’t wait to get her back to her gate, to begin her full transition to Angel.

Stepping back and removing her fingers, she grasped the deputy’s forearms and raised them up, above her head. She loosened her hold, but the arms stayed where she had placed them, and Faith giggled in delight.

“Good girl,” she trilled.

The deputy did not respond, still looking blindly ahead, breathing heavily.

Faith lifted the deputy’s shirt up, struggling to remove it from the slightly taller woman. But the deputy did not fight her, and she eventually pulled it free. She lowered the deputy’s arms before circling her to unclip her bra, letting it fall onto the grass below. She stepped back to admire the smooth, milky white skin, stretched over lithe muscle. The deputy was decorated with freckles, even where her shirt hid her from the sun. Beautiful.

Flitting back to the front of her, Faith smiled at what she saw. A gorgeous chest. She brought a single hand up to lift one of her breasts, inspecting the soft, warm mound, admiring its weight on her palm. A large chest, but not too large, she thought as she let gravity take it, watching it bounce and settle. Fun to look at, to touch, but not yet sagging under its own weight. Perfect. She used a single finger to swirl around the pert, pink nipple, watching in fascination as it pebbled under the stimulation. She was so responsive. It was hardly a trait required of the average Angel, but for what she had in mind for this one… She smiled.

Humming her tune once again, her small hands trailed down either side of the deputy’s torso, causing goose flesh to form in their wake. She deftly unbuttoned and unzipped the deputy’s jeans, pushing them slowly down her long legs and her letting her cheek brush across the soft, cool skin as she moved. She felt her own expression turn into a pout as she struggled to remove the jeans and boots. Once the deputy was an Angel, she’d keep her in stretch pants, or in a dress. Something easy to work around or remove.

The deputy stepped out of her shoes and pants when asked, still in her own world, but just as open to suggestion as Faith could want. She swayed on her feet but didn’t lose her balance, thankfully. After all, Faith wanted her Angel to be able to move when ordered to. Standing before the Herald of the Henbane in nothing but a pair of black panties, expression completely blank, the deputy had never looked more beautiful, helpless, or pathetic.

“Lie back, now,” Faith told the deputy, guiding her by her shoulders. The deputy obeyed, letting herself be led to the ground. “Good.”

Kneeling between the deputy’s bent and spread legs, the Herald pulled the underwear down her long, pale legs, finally leaving her bare. Eyeing the prone woman in the grass before her, Faith couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of her. What a glorious sight. The deputy, leader of the resistance, thorn in her side, malleable and open before her.

Her long hair splayed out across the grass. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused, half lidded. Her lips remained slack and parted. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took while her fingers absently moved through the grasses and flowers surrounding her.

Still smiling, Faith ran her fingertips through the neat, dark curls on the deputy’s mound and asked, “Are you ready for your new life to begin, Deputy?”

The deputy, rendered agreeable and stupid from the Bliss, nodded lazily.

“Good girl,” Faith praised her again, resisting the sudden urge to grope at the helpless body before her. Instead, she rose to her feet, humming once more, and circled around to the deputy’s head. The woman’s glazed eyes looked directly up at her, and a small smile tugged at the slackness of her face. This drug was truly a miracle.

With that thought, Faith sunk onto the face waiting below her, holding the skirt of her dress out of the way. Her knees straddling the head beneath her and gazing down at the nude form laid out in front of her, she rested her weight on the dry grass and soft blonde tresses while she moved her hips, adjusting her position until she rested on the deputy’s plush, pink lips.

She sighed contentedly as she settled, but gasped suddenly when the deputy’s mouth started working on her. She hadn’t even needed to be told. So, so good. She couldn’t wait to take her back to her gate, fully elevate her. If she was this pliant now, Faith could hardly imagine how well she’d do as a full Angel. Her special Angel.

Dropping her skirt in favor of reaching for the exposed breasts before her, the deputy was now fully encased by the other woman. Right where she belonged. She firmly squeezed one of the pillowy globes while lightly tugging on the nipple of the other. The mouth below her worked harder in response, tongue excitedly laving over her lower lips.

Faith hummed as she played with the body in front of her. It was like a game. See which buttons she could push, which levers she could pull, to get specific responses. It wasn’t long at all before the deputy was whining pitifully into her, and Faith relished the sensation. The deputy’s ignored pussy was desperately humping the air, much to her delight. She leaned forward and lightly stroked the wet, leaking hole before harshly pinching her clit. The deputy yelped, but continued furiously working at Faith’s own clit, licking, kissing, and sucking.

With a thoughtful tilt of her head, Faith rested her full weight on the eagerly working face below her. She let out a satisfied, lilting sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh when she felt the deputy’s forehead supporting her cheeks and her nose practically buried between them. Her lips and tongue moved a bit slower, now that there was more weight to push on them, but she more than made up for any lack with her enthusiasm.

Faith watched in thoughtful fascination as the deputy’s form squirmed and writhed pathetically, desperate for some sort of relief. She did not provide any, instead bringing her fingers up to stroke and squeeze her own breasts through the white lace of her signature dress. She gently gyrated her hips and simply enjoyed herself.

Soon, the deputy began to lose steam, almost- but not entirely- abandoning her faithful ministrations in favor of gulping breaths. With Faith’s full weight pushing down on her, her flesh sealing her in, she couldn’t take in any oxygen.

Faith’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head at the sensation of the gentle suction on her most sensitive parts created by the deputy’s insignificant attempts at gasping for air. She moaned aloud as the woman’s torso began to weakly buck and spasm with the diaphragm’s desperate need to pull breath. But she stayed put, underneath Faith. The deputy, the rogue terror of the county and threat to her reign in the Henbane, obediently letting herself struggle and suffocate under her pussy.

With that thought, Faith came violently, convulsing with the force of it, letting out a guttural moan that was almost a yell. She ground herself down, hard, onto the deputy’s face and she rode out the incredible orgasm, only resting once her core was just barely pulsing with the aftershocks of it.

She let herself take a few deep steadying breaths before rolling herself onto the ground, having just enough wherewithal not to kill her new plaything. Her future Angel gasped loudly and desperately, like a fish out of water, and Faith imagined she’d have to spend some time on breath training her.

Finally feeling calm and recovered from her intense orgasm, she sat up and leaned back on her hands, taking in the sight of a truly spent deputy. She still lied where Faith had placed her, and her eyes were still unfocused. But she was flushed from exertion and her face was a wet mess, enough so that Faith realized she must have squirted over the desperate woman as she came.

The deputy, still blissed-out beyond coherence, was gently rocking her hips again, needing a release of her own.

Faith pouted and lightly scolded her, “None of that. Stop now.”

She ceased the movement of her hips, but Faith could still see her hole fluttering uselessly. Fine. Keeping her special Angel in a constant state of arousal would probably be helpful, actually. But it wasn’t her job to cum. It would be her job to make Faith cum. A job she certainly seemed well-suited for.

Faith smiled lightly once more as she rose to her feet. She reached for the deputy’s hand and pulled her up. She did not wipe the deputy’s face and she did not offer her the abandoned clothes littering the field’s floor. She simply took her hand and began walking off in the direction of her gate, humming her tune anew. Angels did love music, after all.

And the deputy would be the perfect Angel.

Read the sequel here!

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, Last Line/s & What's the Colour Palette of Your Name?

Tagged by @aceghosts @titiagls @imogenkol @raresvtm and @strafethesesinners

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @softtidesworld @socially-awkward-skeleton @josephseedismyfather @voidika @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Late Music Monday for The UnTitledverse, specifically for the last three chapters of my A Blast In The Past WIP, and a Last Line for WIPs for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters and a colour palette results for my username. Colour Palette can be found here. Anyway, you can find these below the cut:

Chapter 3 of my A Blast In The Past WIP, called "Absolutely Anything" continues with Calvin being denied his POV, and the Narrator continuing to slander his name, in spite of Calvin's actions. Also more introduction to allies and enemies, as well as Calvin being desperate to just... leave. Hence the chapter's title. Sure his actions are warped by the Narrator to seem more incompetent/selfish than he actually is, but yeah. Not only is Calvin's character twisted by the Narrator's words, it's also literally everyone else, but Calvin gets the Narrator's hate boner the most.

"I used to be so beautiful, now look at me My actions are undutiful, it's clear to see Come on and step out of that cage There's a new chapter, turn the page I'll take my place up on the stage All eyes on me!"

"I can hear you calling Calling up to me I'm falling down, I'm falling Won't you set me free?

I'll do anything, anything Anything that you need me to do Absolutely anything for you I will be aware of the ink, swim or sink Watching out for anything out of the blue But this nightmare's coming true What have I got myself into?"

"Have you ever wondered what heaven is like? I like to dream that it is quite beautiful A soft valley of green grass blanketed by a warm sun I don't think I'll ever get to see it Are you ready to ascend, my little errand boy? The heavens are waiting."

"You'll do anything, anything Anything that I ask you to do But you don't have a clue 'Cause I can guarantee, guarantee That demon's always after me and you But this nightmare is coming true Look what you've got yourself into."

Chapter 4's the darkest chapter, hence given the name "Art Of Darkness". Calvin's got his hands full with subtracting the number of foes he's got to deal with, meanwhile being psychologically tormented by the Narrator and the environment around that's sole purpose is to beat the shit out of him. Calvin gets closer to finding his exit... or at least, what the Narrator states is a lead.

"So sing along to the bouncing ball Wave your flag and renounce these halls You may have been sacked from this pantomime But a pal of mine wants you recalled

So march along to the count of four Astound at the scoundrel crowd you've drawn Left stranded and damned to this mangled form To abandon us here was an act of war."

"It's laughable to think you'll bring back the norm." "We've ink, but no malpractice forms." ""But Henry! You never gave a crap before?" 'Til we trapped you down 'neath the factory floor."

"Clap along to the rapturous score Three rounds down and back for more To find the keys in chapter four." "Remind me, where've you heard that before?"

"If you thought that demons were your problem right now Well, the angel's on the stage so pipe down If there are secrets that you want to find out Hop on the ink machine and ride those pipes down

So you're on the path of the starving artist But at the heart, well the art is heartless Ever seen a masterpiece get discarded? Start and depart for the art of darkness."

Chapter Five "Clearer" marks the finale of A Blast In The Past, the culmination of Calvin's journey and the mystery of his circumstances being revealed with the help of two intruders who the Narrator doesn't want anywhere near his playground. For Calvin, everything becomes... "clearer" in a way.

"Wake up in the wrong place at the wrong time Got to run away, no way out Thought I had new friends, new allies, but they won't let me escape

I pray that we make it out alive

I see the writing on the wall again Breaking out of here Everything's clearer We haven't even reached the end, but we make our own way And we are not gonna stay

Almost took all our blood, sweat, and tears to take down all our fears We're brave, but I pray that we make it out alive

I see the writing on the wall again Breaking out of here Everything's clearer We haven't even reached the end, but we make our own way

I have conquered demons of every kind But I wish that we could rewind all the years Power and justice, it was everything he wanted But despite it all, he could never find what he was looking for Now here we are at the end

I see the writing on the wall again Breaking out of here Everything's clearer We haven't even reached the end, but we make our own way And we are not gonna stay-ay-ay-ay

We'll never stay We will escape."

You can find the Last Line/s for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters below.

Still got my Coroner!Silva AU WIP No Snake, Only A Boa In The Garden from The Silver Chronicles. Anyway, have some Faith Seed POV as she falls for Coroner!Silva and falls hard (not that she already wasn't in an earlier scene where Silva charmed her with her strange hyper-fixations on the science behind corpses):

Faith wasn't sure if her words were making any sense to Silva. Botany was vastly different from forensic science. It'd help to prepare the coroner for when she eventually joined their family, especially as "the Mother" like Joseph had proclaimed. As she continued to speak, she took a chance to glance at her bench mate.

The first thing Faith noticed was Silva's eyes. Usually they were a dulled grey, without a light of life in them. There seemed to be a glow in the rings of her irises; a burning intensity, like molten silver. She held a dedicated gaze, absorbing and absorbed by every word that spilled from Faith's mouth, even as she began to slow and falter in her observation. The acute stare was different from Joseph's; his held a power that felt like he was judging a person's soul. Silva's though held no judgemental scrutiny; only a warm admiration that passed over her soul like an embrace. It almost felt like Silva was actually hearing every word Faith blurted out of her lips.

Faith swears she's seen this look before, or something close to it. Yes, right, Nadi. This expression was a similar kind she noticed on Nadi whenever John was around or even mentioned, which was often. Faith had often shaken her head at the Sinclair women's transitioned from a "dutiful bodyguard" to a "lovesick puppy" the moment John entered the frame; something Faith would combat with a teasing smile and an eye roll at the silly display, always finding herself satisfied that such antics would never happen with her, that level of attention unnecessary compared to the Father's approval.

And yet, Faith found herself breathless and unfairly unprepared in the face of the level of attention Silva's given her. Though she recognized just how contrasting the coroner's was from Nadi's own. The sharpshooter's was rooted in a kind of inexperienced love; a childish crush really, an envisioned idolized image Nadi built around the few virtues John displays, ignoring the glaring flaws John has. But Silva's gaze was more grounded, a reserved devotion almost saved for Faith; a maturity and experience Faith often laments not being given a chance to have herself. Just as she listened to Faith, it felt as if Silva was seeing Faith as well. Not as the Siren. Not as a herald. Not even as Rachel. Just... her. Just as she is now.

By now, Faith had ceased talking, just entrapped in the eyes of the woman next to her. Heart pounding, a red flushing on her face as she managed to ask Silva with a wavering smile, "Why are you staring at me like that?"

The Sheriff's coroner leaned against the support of her arm, gloved knuckles against under her cheek. Faith noticed her lips were slightly ajar, glistened with a natural shine as Silva seemed to think of an answer. She observed as Silva's expression shifted, displaying a coy smirk that was almost sly of amorous. The ridiculous thought caused her heart to flutter as anticipation coiled in her innards. Silva shuffled and leaned a shy bit closer to Faith, the recipient trying to swallow her nerves at the change of atmosphere, awaiting Silva's answer.

And here's a Last Line Tag for my Sonya's Push WIP from my Life, Despair & Monsters series. Enjoy the little snippet of one of the most toxic w|w couples I've made thus far:

A steam of hot air blew pass the clenched jaw of the mechanical Beastie, its optic shining a red hue onto her flesh. Jennifer sucked in a breath and shuddered as the heat stung her exposed shoulders. The Apex, Sonya, whatever name Malvolio's Beastie crowned itself with, hadn't immediately given her an answer. She tried to struggle against the tail's curled hold around her legs, waist, and arms.

Just like last time, she only succeeded in causing the tail to coil tighter, effectively pinning her hands to her tattered and dirty golden dress. The fear of her body's circulation being cut off suddenly occurred, so she ceased the struggle, hoping to gain the Apex's favour as it inspected her from the ground, circling as the panic and fear rumbled in her stomach. Jennifer was unsure what fate awaited her. She hoped her words made an effort in appealing to whatever human desire remained in the Beastie, but if she were to die, she'd wish it to be quicker than what Dicko received.

Anyway here's the results for the colour palette name game:

Nice to see I got some blues and purples and even a bit of greys. I can live with the reds and the darker/paler colours I guess but what's that lone random greenish-blue doing there, poor sod.

[ashinreverse]

Ignore his tattoos pls & ty gaiz 🫶🏼

[strangefable]

For the Far Cry 5 Secret Santa graciously run by @natesofrellis, here is my gift for @eur0paa-2 featuring their OC, Turing, and Faith. <3 Two parts: a moodboard (full size), and a small fic beneath the cut. Happy Holidays! I hope I did them justice <3 <3

Characters: Faith Seed and Turing Rating: T to M, nothing too spicy, just a little lead up toward implied spiciness Warnings/Tags: mild injury and blood mention, wound cleaning, hurt/comfort, kissing Wordcount: 522

Faith clucked her tongue as she gazed down at Turing standing before her. She held out her hand with a gentle smile. "What have you done this time?" Her voice lilted with scolding and playfulness.

Turing ducked her head as she held out her hands. They were bloody, raw, scratched. Her face had scratches and bruises as well. "They fought dirty." Her features bunched tightly as she offered her defense.

Faith gave a soft giggle. "You showed them, hmm? Come, sit. I'll take care of you." She led Turing to a chair.

Turing's heart sped up and her legs wobbled just slightly as she shuffled forward to obey. She sat, then risked a glance up to Faith.

She smiled down at her, beatific and sweet, but her eyes were sharp and quick. She glanced away to gather supplies, then turned back with an alcohol swab. She moved slowly over Turing's hands, wiping them clean.

Turing sucked air between her teeth each time the alcohol slid over the open cuts. She refused to make any other concessions to her pain.

Faith began to hum as she washed away the blood and grime from Turing's hands. Then she withdrew a fresh swab and began on Turing's face.

Turing flinched with a soft sound as the alcohol grazed the deep cut below her eye. Faith paused and brought her other hand up to wipe her thumb across the cut, smoothing away the sting.

As she continued to wash the injuries, Turing let out a small sigh, barely audible below Faith's continued humming. Turing closed her eyes and focused on keeping her breathing steady, despite the pace of heart throbbing in her chest.

Faith's hands were gentle and sure, cleaning and applying a salve, cool and soothing to Turing's skin. Next, she bandaged Turing's hands with thick, white gauze. She squeezed them gently. "There, all patched up." She smiled and tilted her head to one side, but Turing had bowed her head again and wouldn't look up.

Faith huffed and let go of Turing's hands. She cupped Turing's chin and nudged upward. Turing allowed herself to be guided. Faith's eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she leaned forward.

Her lips brushed the tip of Turing's nose. "Such a fierce warrior," she murmured. "Let me take care of you, just this once…" She bent and pressed her mouth closer, capturing Turing's with a sudden hunger.

She gasped. She hesitated.

She leaned forward into Faith's kiss, her bandaged hands clumsily reaching around the soft lace of her dress.

Faith giggled against Turing's lips. She nipped at her playfully, then dove her tongue deeper into Turing's mouth with a satisfied purr.

Turing let out a soft moan in reply, giving way to Faith's lead, but hungry and eager to respond.

Faith's hands pushed Turing's jacket from her shoulders and down her arms. She pulled back and grinned. "Can you stay tonight?"

Turing took a moment to catch her breath. She nodded slowly.

Faith caressed her cheeks with her fingers, brushing over bruises and cuts once more. "Good." She pressed her lips against Turing's throat. "Then we'll have all night."