#Still—he wants a companion again so much that it hurts. But he never allows himself to. Always saying that if by some divine chance it’s in

[possiblyfunny]

Meanwhile…

He’s very grateful, just give him a moment-

( @100nebulas C’mon. Come back. There’s extra lore for you, Starry.)

Trick or Treat! (This time on Aster’s behalf! Hope you don’t mind-)

treat - egg?!

"Oh- oh, hey- I remember that kid! I keep that crown he made me in a special place, heh.

Here- deliver this carefully, would ya? I was saving it for a gym challenger as a special prize for any winning challengers tonight, but things have been winding down, so... I think I'd like him to have it. It's a Bulbasaur egg- I help Gramps breed em sometimes."

[obxsummer]

chaotic // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a quick glimpse down memory lane before the group heads to charleston where you and john b are placed on cemetery duty. good thing a sibling intervention was needed and john b's hit with the heavy realization that you'd been left with more than superficial scars from the camerons.

warnings: ptsd, non-consensual drug use, angst, rafe cameron, typical obx violence, ward cameron being a dickhead, almost kidnapping?

a/n: good luck, godspeed, & listen to chaotic by tate mcrae

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ask me anything

--

“Would you do this to your sister?”

Rafe stared at you, horrified, as you hummed on the bed from the effects of the heavy indica based oil he’d put in your drink. You were practically on a cloud, and he was surprised you even had the energy to speak. You’d never asked him anything, just begged him to stop and let go, but never this.

“What?”

You forced yourself up to a sitting position, practically fluttering at the pain relief he’d given you. Rafe spent more time in this room with you, just talking and yelling and taking his anger out on you because you were there. You usually didn’t bother to comment back, just taking whatever he’d give because you’d given up on the idea of life getting any better. 

“Would you put Sarah through this?” You repeated, eyes blinking quickly at him. 

Rafe bent down to snort the line of white powder he’d organized on your calf; any other surface in the room and his dad would notice (or that’s what he told himself). “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, John B would never do this to your sister, so why the hell are you doing it to his?”

The question caught Rafe off guard more than he expected. His dad had practically ruined his relationships with everyone he’d come to know. Except you, Ward had broken you into the perfect little companion for Rafe. There was no running away, nobody to come save you. So, in his own little twisted way, he really liked having you around. You were his.

“I don’t have to answer you,” Rafe replied weakly, knowing damn well he would’ve never allowed anything like that to happen to Sarah. Not…no? Maybe. He didn’t know anymore and his brain wasn’t working correctly now with the drugs in his system.

You sighed, “Okay.” Flopping back on the bedding, you stared at the ceiling. Your heartbeat was in your ears and it felt like time was passing so slowly.

“Would you ever forgive John B if he did that?”

You shook your head and gave him a thumbs down. “John B would never do that. And if he did, I’d never speak to him again.”

The statement hurt. As much as Rafe tried to convince himself that you were wrong, it hurt. He wanted to be good, to be worthy of someone’s love and attention. He’d tried his whole life to but he kept fucking up. That’s why he was leaning on you. You were fixing that hole in his chest whether you knew it or not.

“Would you ever talk to me again?” Rafe stared at the bland walls as he spoke.

A moment of silence filled the room before he turned to see if you were still awake. Your eyes remained unblinking, the rise and fall of your chest in a steady motion the only sign that you were still alive. 

“You’re really scaring me,” You answered honestly. Your mind was silent, the only thing running through it was Rafe’s question, so you had no reason to lie to him. “You’re hurting me. You’re really hurting me and I don’t understand why.”

Rafe turned away when you started crying, your form shivering in an adrenaline drop as you rolled onto your side away from him. He sat silently until your breathing evened out, eyes closing as you fell into an induced slumber before he turned the lights off and left the room, locking the door as he did.

--

John B was worried.

Let’s be clear, as the eldest of the group, John B worried often, but when it came to you, he always was. 

Everything was off since you and Kie had returned from the shop and it was practically a red flag waving in front of his face. Neither of you said anything but it was obvious from the timing of everything paired with tear tracks on your faces that something happened. He just had to wait it out for more details.

Revealing everything to Kie had brought up a lot of buried feelings and although you wanted nothing more than to hide away, you didn’t want to risk staying home by yourself. You were quiet the entire ferry ride, claiming you were tired and needed a nap so nobody would question your lack of energy. That didn’t mean you missed out on the conversations around you, eavesdropping your way into John B’s awkward insinuation of moving into the next step with Sarah.

The topic pulled tears to your eyes as you thought about the idea with JJ. Would you guys stay in Kildare? Would you move somewhere, or stay here and carry out a different kind of life that neither of you had experienced?

“So based on the captain’s log, Blackbeard’s in his ship, the Adventure, somewhere out there, and they’re being pursued by the British Royal Navy, right? So, he comes to shore, takes a bunch of hostages. They called it the, um, the-“

“Oh, the uh, the Blockade of Charleston. That was eighth-grade history.” John B interrupted Pope’s story with such confidence it almost brought you out of your shitty mood.

You walked slowly behind them, head covered by one of John B’s old Kildare High hoodies, the sweater paws keeping you warm. Kie was a few steps ahead of you, walking next to Sarah. Every now and then she would spare a glance back to make sure you were still there. Cleo walked ahead of everyone else, knife twirling between her fingers with murder on her mind. She would get her revenge on Terrance’s behalf.

Your attention drifted from John B and Pope’s conversation to your phone where your messages to JJ had gone unanswered. You knew he could hold his own, but you hated the thought of leaving him in search of his dad, not that he would’ve let you go anyway.

“Come on, Birdie.” John B had slowed his pace to walk along your side, his hand grabbing yours so you’d drop your head on his shoulder. “Wanna talk?”

You shook your head slightly but squeezed his hand in appreciation that he was here. Pope was busy solving the riddle left by the amulet that had brought you here.

“Wait, I have a question. So, if we’re talking about caskets, that doesn’t mean we’re going to another cemetery, right?”

You laughed softly at John B’s question, leaning further into his side as the six of you continued walking down the cobblestone street. The walk continued much longer than you would’ve liked, your mind and body ready to lay down for a little and reset.

“You know what’s been bothering me?” Pope asked after the sun had set and you’d walked a good 5 miles. “Blackbeard has a treasure he desperately wants to keep. He’s being pursued by the British Royal Navy. They’re blockading the entire city. Yet he finds time to make coffins to bury his cook and navigator?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, time out. Time out, time out. Dude, he definitely put something in those coffins.”

“Are you dumb.” You let go of John B’s hand to stop in front of him, giving him a blank look. He looked offended as you walked away from him, shaking your head as you did. It was quite obvious that you were looking for treasure hidden in the coffins.

“Half Moon, Half Moon Battery, where the living and the dead collide, which I figure is a cemetery, which means all we have to do is figure out where-“

“The North Star is?” Sarah finished Pope’s thought as she raised her hand to point to a stained-glass window of the church on the corner. You shrugged at her find, figuring it made sense to at least give it a shot.

John B wrapped an arm around his girlfriend. “Sarah Cameron, have I told you I love you lately?”

Pope stared at the colored object for a few more seconds before turning to address all of you. “Here’s the plan, alright? I’m gonna need you and you for diversions. You’re coming with me, I need to check something in the church. And you two are on cemetery duty.”

That put Sarah and Cleo on distractions, Kiara going with Pope, and you were left with John B for cemetery duty.

“Wait, what?” You asked as you looked around the darkness surrounding you and your brother seemed to be on the same page. “Don’t leave us out here!”

“Look for the gatekeeper in the cemetery,” Pope explained as the remainder of the group started walking toward the entrance. “Be so safe!”

You rolled your eyes at the ongoing joke, turning to face John B. “We just got benched.”

“Yep, where the living and dead collide, the Routledges will provide. Awesome,” He grumbled and walked around the gate to enter the graveyard area. “It’s not real, they’re dead. It’s gonna be fine, we’ll be fine.”

You sighed and let him rant away to himself as you found a spot on the stairs to claim for the upcoming time. Pulling John B’s hoodie sleeves further over your hands, you shivered with the cool night breeze.

“So, are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or am I going to have to drag it out of someone else?” John B took a seat next to you and cracked his knuckles like it would make him any tougher. 

As much as you loved Kie, you knew she wasn’t good at keeping secrets, and you wanted to talk to John B before she went running. Your teeth pulled at the chapped skin of your lips before you answered, “I heard you on the ferry, talking to Sarah about starting a family.”

He seemed confused for a moment before his cheeks burned red. “Oh, that’s awkward. Um, that… that should’ve been a more private conversation and-”

“Would you hate Sarah if she didn’t have kids?”

The question wasn’t one John B anticipated. Out of all the things you guys had talked about before, raising a family wasn’t one discussed. With your own family relationship being rocky, John B never knew where you stood on the idea and if you’d ever want that for yourself (and JJ, but he tried not to think about that).

“No, n-no. I would be sad, of course, but I wouldn’t hate her. She totally dodged the idea, though so you don’t have to worry about-”

“Would you leave her?”

John B frowned and blinked at you, but you still weren’t looking at him. He wasn’t used to you asking about his relationship in this kind of way. “Why are you asking this?”

You pushed a shaky breath from your lips and let your head drop to your knees. God, you wished JJ was here. He deserved to hear this from you first, but he wasn’t, and you didn’t know when he would be.

“John B, I can’t have kids.” You turned to watch his expression as he processed your words. Your eyes were warm with tears while a million emotions crossed his face.

“What?” John B didn’t know what else to say. You guys were barely adults, and this topic shouldn’t even be a thought in your mind with the current living conditions and lack of funding you all had. But you were his little sister, and his heart was breaking as you spoke. “Can’t or won’t?”

Tugging on the sleeves of the hoodie again, you looked down. “Can’t. Physically unable. Never going to happen.”

John B paused at the coldness in your voice. You were obviously upset but he still wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from. Plus, let’s be real. John B was a teenage boy at the end of the day; female anatomy was not his strong suit in any way. “Oh, okay. Um, is there like a problem or-”

“Rafe caused it.”

--

The Cameron house was cold. Sunlight filled the room, casting some warmth across the hardwood floor but you made no effort to enjoy it. Rose had just dropped a salad off at the door and told you that DCS would be visiting today, to get your shit together and not to mess anything up or Ward would go after your friends. You didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but you had nothing left to go off of. You hadn’t seen your friends in weeks, and you didn’t know if they even bothered to look for you.

DCS had yet to make any checkups on you and your brother since your dad disappeared, minus the one that John B narrowly avoided by jumping from the car when you thankfully weren’t home. You figured Ward had paid them off for so long, but now that John B was lost to sea, they were likely to get suspicious. 

Which meant they were coming to talk to you. Alone.

Perfect.

Forcing your tired and bruised body to your feet, you made your way into the attached bathroom to soak under the hot water and formulate a plan. If DCS did opt to talk to you, there had to be a way to get a silent SOS across. You didn’t know how, but you would come up with something, even if Rafe and Ward followed your every move. 

After soaking up most of the hot water, you finished getting ready for the day, pulling on a pair of shorts and one of John B’s t-shirts that had gotten mixed in your laundry. It would only be a matter of time before they’d come knocking at the door to collect you for show and tell.

Your eyes moved over everything in the room with hope something would pop up with an answer for all of your problems. And then you remembered the remaining food tray in the room. Ward or whoever dropped food to you typically left plastic wear to prevent you from using the typicaly cutlery as a resource, but that wasn’t the case today. Your eyes caught the metal knife that was intended to cut the meal, but you hadn’t touched it.

You grabbed the piece in your hand and moved slowly to to the door, running over JJ’s instructions in your head on how to possibly pop the lock using the tool. Pushing it between the door and the wall, you felt around for the horizontal lock, struggling to move it over. And then there was a pop, and your heart started racing.

Pressing your ear against the door, you listened for footsteps and voices, anything that would give you a warning of someone being nearby. When you didn’t hear anything, your fingers gently twisted the doorknob as far as it would go. A soft click told you it was yours to open as you pleased, so you did so, slowly.

The hallway was dim minus the sunlight leaking in from other rooms and your eyes caught sight of the large grandfather clock to your side. The ticking of the hands echoed down the silent hallway and you stood frozen for a moment before taking your first steps out. 

And nothing.

No yelling, no alarms, no impromptu body tackles to the floor. You could make this. You could make a run for it and they would be none the wiser until DCS was here.

Walking slowly down the hallway, you came to the foyer area where you could hear whispers from the kitchen filtering through. Moving into Sarah’s room, you glanced around for something, anything, that would help you get out of here without any suspicion. 

“Go get her. They’ll be here soon and I need to make sure she’s not going to run her mouth.”

“Dad, she’s going to-”

“Now, Rafe.”

You held your breath as Rafe mumbled an agreement and the sound of his footsteps echoed through the open room as he ascended the stairs. You needed to move, and move fast. Rafe cursed down the hall, likely figuring out that the door was unlocked and you clutched the butter knife tighter in your hand like it would offer any protection.

Ducking into Sarah’s walk-in closet, you scrambled to find an old phone or even her laptop if she’d left it behind but came up empty. “Shit,” You whispered to yourself and bent down to pull on a pair of her gym shoes since yours had been destroyed from years of wear. If nothing else, you needed to prepare to run. 

Grabbing a black hoodie from her shelves, you slipped it on over your t-shirt and pulled the hood up to keep your face hidden as much as possible. You would only have one shot at this, and you needed to make it count. 

Moving slowly toward Sarah’s bedroom door, you waited to see if you could hear Rafe’s presence down the hall but silence followed. The doorbell rang, Ward yelling out for his son in hopes that he would bring you down but Rafe didn’t answer.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca Sinclair with DCS. I’m presuming you’re Mr. Cameron.” 

Risking the step into the open, you walked out of Sarah’s room and kept your body pressed against the wall so you would be out of view for Ward and the DCS rep but could see their conversation.

“That would be me. Come in, can I get you something to drink?”

Rebecca shook her head. “This should be fairly quick. Where is Miss Routledge? I have to do an individual check in with her and then one with you as the legal guardian.”

“Let me go see where she’s at. She’s been having a really hard time with the loss of her brother and my daughter. They were such good friends, and-”

“Miss Routledge, please, Mr. Cameron.”

The DCS rep clearly wasn’t putting up with Ward. You took the chance to step forward into view, your mouth opening to yell out before someone’s hand clamped over your face and an arm yanked you back from view. You screamed against the action, the sound echoing throughout the hall.

“Apologies, she’s been crying all day. I’ll go grab her.”

Body thrashing, you attempted to pull out of Rafe’s grasp but he doubled down on his grip, even when you attempted to bite his hand. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you!” He hissed in your ear as he dragged you down the hallway back into the room you’d seen for days upon days. Rafe tried to close the door as quietly as possible while still corralling you in his arms.

He slammed you against the bed covers, knee driving into your stomach as he kept his hand over your mouth. You cried out at the force, tears springing to your eyes at the pain that followed. You tried to push against his chest so he would get off, his other hand tightening around your throat causing the air to stop its way into your lungs.

You choked, eyes going wide as you stared back at him in hopes that he would find some sort of empathy and forgiveness, but cold eyes met yours. 

“I told you to shut the fuck up, you useless Pogue. I should kill you for-”

“Rafe.” Ward’s voice was demanding enough that his son stopped speaking but continued to glare at you. “Move your hand.”

Rafe complied, taking his hand from your throat but keeping the one on your mouth. You continued to push at him until he dropped more of his weight into the knee on your stomach and you cried again.

Ward’s face came into view, his sickly fake smile on his face as he held a small syringe into your view. “You could’ve just listened, you know? And we wouldn’t have to go to these lengths.”

He wasn’t gentle as he pushed the needle into your skin, subjecting you to whatever sedative he’d claimed good enough to handle your outburst. 

Your body went quiet within seconds, muscles relaxing and a numbness spreading from limb to limb. Your imaginary fight with Rafe ended and tears fell from your eyes at the helpless feeling. After a moment, Rafe moved his hand and shifted off of you as Ward tossed a spare blanket over your form.

“Go to your room, I’ll handle this.” 

You could tell Rafe wanted to disagree with Ward’s directions, but with a final glare your way, he removed himself from the room. Ward watched as your expression drooped, eyes blinking slower as the medicine kicked in. 

“I told you, you’ll never see them again.”

Heavy tears blinked from your eyes as you tried to fight through, tried to stay awake to warn the woman downstairs of your horrendous conditions, of how damaged they’d left you. But you couldn’t, despite all your efforts, you couldn’t. 

And as your vision faded to black, all you could think of was your brother and how you wanted to be with him again, more than anything in the world. 

--

And now, John B was going to be sick to his stomach so he stood up to pace while fighting the bile in his throat. Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron took away something you’d never even had a chance to consider.

“Did he…” The open ended question made John B dizzy at the thought of everything that you’d gone through, and when you shook your head no, he choked out a cough instead of the lunch he was threatening to leave in the bush.

You watched him from your spot on the stairs, heart racing as you recounted everything you’d told Kie earlier that day. “There was so much, um, scar tissue from the kicking…and the drugs. A-and they said it caused permanent damage that even if I wanted to get pregnant, I wouldn’t make it long.”

“When did you find out? The hospital? Or-or-” John B stopped pacing, his hand tugging at his hair to keep him from absolutely raging in the cemetery.

“It was when you got arrested,” You continued to explain around your tears before he lost his chill. “There was so much bleeding and… I didn’t know what to do…so I told Pope, and his dad took me to the hospital and-”

“Pope knows?” John B had never sounded so upset at the idea of one of his best friends finding out this information before he did. You were his sister, his other half no matter what happened. He wanted you to trust him, to lean on him for everything and anything you wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged lightly, your voice cracking as you spoke, “Because I’m embarrassed? And ashamed and JJ’s going to leave when he finds out and-”

John B picked you up from the stairs and held you so tightly, he could’ve sworn you disappeared. His chest shook with your sobs as you sunk into the embrace. You weren’t even 19 yet and the possibility of growing a family with your boyfriend, John B’s best friend, was practically non-existent. 

Adoption was always an option, but John B knew what you were grieving, because he had almost grieved it when he lost Sarah on that table in Nassau. Plus, let’s not lie, the chances of you all getting your shit together and getting approved for that kind of thing were slipping away by the day. There was still so much time in your lives (you hoped), that you shouldn’t be hearing this news at such a young age, but like you said, life had been so cruel. 

John B stood there, with you in his arms, for as long as you’d let him. You cried for most of it, but a part of you was relieved he knew. You had tried to keep the conversation away as long as possible, like if you didn’t speak of it, you’d never have to accept that it was real. But it was, and you had to come to the realization that John B wouldn’t be an uncle to kids that you’d created on your own, that JJ wouldn’t ever get to redeem himself as a Dad to kids of his own, that you’d never get that experience.

 “I’m so sorry, I… I should’ve been there, I should’ve never left without you,” John B apologized and placed his hand on the back of your head to hold you closer. “God, I shouldn’t have-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never meant for any of this to happen.” 

 “‘S not your fault,” You mumbled, every word being so honest. It had taken a lot of thought, but you couldn’t and you wouldn’t blame John B for what he’d done. He was a terrified kid, and you were too in your own ways. He was running for his life and you were watching from the sidelines. Older and younger. Brother and sister. Trapped in this horrible spiral life had given you.

“What are we looking for?”

An unsuspecting voice had you and John B diving for a hiding spot, your brother tugging you behind a gravestone that would keep both of you from prying eyes. John B held a finger to his lips, teary eyes making contact with yours as you were wrenched out of your heartbreaking conversation and back into reality. 

Keeping his hand on your shoulder to hold you out of view, John B peeked around the gravestone to see two figures wandering the cemetery with a lantern, obviously looking for something other than a deceased loved one. 

“We’re looking for an angel. A gatekeeper. One that looks a bit like her. Hello, Stede Bonnet,” A woman answered the question. “Isn’t that a beauty? Excellent, come on.”

You shivered, whether from the cool stone against your back or fear, you didn’t know and risked glancing over to see the two figures investigating another grave a few feet away from you. They were pulling out heavy tools in an attempt to open whatever was lying inside. 

“Shit,” John B whispered as you watched the woman place the amulet you’d found in the shipwreck into the stone, the headstone scraping open as she did. You quickly recognized the man as the one who had caught you and JJ while diving and again in the hospital, so that left this woman to be his boss.

After a moment of silence and more scraping noises, they disappeared under the stone, down into the tomb that lay beneath. Thunder cracked overhead and you jumped, grabbing onto John B’s arm in surprise. 

He moved away slowly and your grip tightened to stop him. “John B!”

“Shh, just stay behind me. We’re so not done with that conversation, by the way.”

You shuffled out slowly in fear of someone getting the jump on the two of you. John B paused in front of the headstone that the two people from earlier read; the angel statue had an outstretched hand, which you followed to the tomb they disappeared in.

“The gatekeeper will guide the way,” John B repeated as he followed your gaze. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” You gasped out in shock, realizing they very much had figured out the words on the amulet faster than you’d planned. “Do you think…”

“They’ll be fine,” John B reassured, although you couldn’t tell if he was speaking more to himself or you. “They’re smart. Right?”

You tilted your head in consideration. “Better than us being down there.”

“Yeah, yeah. Way better than us.”

“Pope’s super smart.”

“Right and Cleo’s got her knife.”

“Sarah’s not dumb, she’ll be fine.”

“Kie can have her moments, but-”

Your reasoning was cut off as the headstone shifted and the two individuals from earlier climbed out. John B pushed you behind him further into the shadows of the building as you watched on with curious gazes. Lightning lit up the sky before thunder boomed around you, the storm clearly moving in closer despite your wishes. 

You needed to find your friends. And fast.

--

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ask me anything

[dollfacefantasy]

Baby Bunny

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, breeding kink, daddy kink

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i'm not sure how i feel about this one, but let's go with it. again, thank you everyone for reblogging and commenting, it means the world to me <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld

In his personal life, Leon never wanted to be depended on. That was his job. He didn’t want that stuff following him home. He didn’t want to be tied down, to be responsible for someone like that. People depended on him in Raccoon city and look how that turned out. Every mission he’s been on for the last few years, he’s responsible for someone. It’s exhausting.

But as he nears 30, he starts to look at it differently. An aching sense of isolation grows in his heart. He starts to think about what it would be like having someone, having a companion of some sort. Suddenly, he’s not looking at being relied on as a detriment. Being depended on means having someone to care for, someone to love. There would be someone at the end of long days and the starts of his currently lonesome nights.

That’s how he finds himself with you scampering around his house. The sweetest little thing he’d ever seen. Your long floppy ears, cute little cottontail, those big sweet eyes. From the moment he saw you, he was a sucker for all of it.

A while back he had briefly heard of human-animal hybrids, but he didn’t think much about it. It didn’t really apply to him. If anything, the idea weirded him out a bit.

That was until he started thinking more about his dilemma. It seemed like one of them might be a good solution. He talked to a few people and did some online research and decided to at least look into it. It couldn’t hurt to visit an adoption center right?

He visited the place and was still a little freaked by the whole concept. He walked through the rooms, watching different hybrids move about and mess around. The lady guiding him throughout asked him different questions, trying to decipher what type of hybrid would best fit his needs. But all of her questions were irrelevant as soon as he spotted you.

You were undoubtedly the one. His baby bunny. Not only did he not want any other hybrid, but he didn’t think he could physically leave that place without talking to you at the very least.

He walked over to you cautiously. You kept to yourself, and he could tell from your body language alone how timid you were. He spoke with the softest, most soothing tone he could manage, but you were still so shy.

You’d told him your name so quietly he could barely hear. He didn’t touch you at all, fearing you may cry at something that personal. But he kept talking to you because while others may have found it challenging, he could see you fitting right in with him.

You’d be dependent, sure, but clearly you wouldn’t be overly needy for affection. It would be a good way for him to transition from being alone into having someone.

He kept getting to know you and trying to get through some of your walls. He talked with you about all sorts of things and let you ask your own questions so you could get to know him. By the end of the day, you hesitantly allowed him to stroke your ears.

It was that exact day he told you that he was interested in you coming to live with him. You were still very reserved, but you seemed receptive. You did a little trial run over the course of a week, and just as Leon thought, you were a great fit.

You had grown more comfortable with him in the months since that week even though your core personality hadn’t changed. You were still generally quiet, never asking for much and being appreciative of whatever he gave you. You’d talk with him openly now, mostly responding to him rather than starting conversations but speaking nevertheless. You slept in your own room, but as soon as you woke up, you’d come find him to hang out. It was a nice balance with you.

But Leon still wanted a little more. He would never push it on you, knowing it would make you withdraw again, but he always cherished the moments of progress with you. You warmed up enough that you came around to enjoy cuddling. Leon couldn’t believe how soft he’d become when you curled up to his side and tucked yourself under his arm. The first time you fell asleep in his embrace, he loved it so much he felt chest pains. Once or twice, he’d gotten you to fully sit on his lap, and he couldn’t stop beaming.

He could give you little kisses on your face now, and you’d give him a sweet smile in return that he couldn’t get enough of. You’d never kissed him yourself, but you would nuzzle his cheek in return which was enough to make him happy.

You were just such a sweetheart, a perfect companion for him. You didn’t complain when he had to go to work, but it wasn’t like you didn’t miss him. He could see the way your ears would slump and your eyes would dim as he gathered his stuff and headed for the door. But you also got so happy when he came back. You tried to seem as subdued as possible, but the way you lit up again in his presence was obvious.

The only thing you were still completely closed off about was when you went into heat. Leon understood what it was, he had been nervous about it since bringing you home, but he had no clue about how you dealt with it at all. Every time it happened, you’d shut yourself up in your room for however many days it took, and then return to him as if nothing had happened.

For your sake, he played along. He got the sense it was a touchy subject after bringing up the possibility of getting you some more toys for it and having you immediately shut it down. Your voice had become higher pitched with defensiveness, and your eyes wouldn’t meet his for the next few hours.

He had only wanted to help, but he couldn’t tell you why. Couldn’t tell you that your desperate moans kept him up at night when they echoed down the hall. Those broken whimpers that made it sound like you were crying, so worked up and in need of release that it brought you to tears. 

He also couldn’t share how it made his cock rise to attention. How those pretty little noises had him fucking his fist, other palm covering his mouth to muffle his grunts, searching for relief of his own. His precious baby bunny didn’t need to know all of that.

Today had been a long day. He was tired after dealing with all the bullshit that came with his job. Although, unlike in months prior, he wasn’t all doom and gloom driving home. The thought of his sweet girl at home waiting for him by the door kept his spirits somewhat up as he made the commute back.

To his surprise, you weren’t in the living room like normal. He walked through the room cautiously, a little on edge from the disruption to his routine. He goes into the kitchen and still doesn’t find you. He starts to walk to the back of the home and that’s when he hears something. Those soft, needy sounds of pleasure.

His eyebrows raise, but he continues walking. As he gets closer, he realizes something that adds another level of shock to this situation. The noises were coming from his room.

At this point, he was more concerned than anything else. He makes his way down the hallway to his room and slowly opens the door, cracking it open to peek inside.

His eyes widen as he sees you on his bed. You’re kneeling, doubled over though so your face is in the blankets, his pillow between your legs, and your hips rocking back and forth violently. You’re nude from the waist down, only wearing a shirt of his. One of your fists is clutching the blankets while you keep your face shoved against them in a weak attempt to muffle those cute noises.

His jaw goes slack at the sight. He wills himself to remain calm and not succumb to some of his own primal urges. He carefully steps into the room, trying to be quiet even though he couldn’t see a way to not startle you with his presence.

“Baby…” he says, using the most gentle voice he could manage.

You shoot up in bed, now kneeling vertically. Your eyes are wide like you’ve had the fright of your life, your expression clearly horrified that he’d caught you like this. And even though he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice that despite your reaction, your hips don’t stop rutting against the pillow.

“Daddy!” you gasp.

That short circuits his brain. He pauses for a good five seconds to grapple with what you just said. You’d never called him that before. Not that he minded necessarily… but it still gave him whiplash.

His reaction seems to cause you to realize what you had just blurted out. In the blink of an eye, you go from visibly horrified to completely mortified. Your eyes fill with tears as you whimper out “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Oh god, and now you’re crying. Leon was still silent as he tried to keep his composure, force the heat building inside of him to cool off before he approached you. Looking at you though, that sweet face with tears leaking down those round cheeks… It made him want to bounce you on his lap till you were crying for a whole other reason.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s alright,” he reassures you as he walks to the bed. He sits on the edge, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on your face. “Is it… Are you in heat?”

“Yes,” you say, tone dripping with shame. You bite your lip and try to restrain any further whimpers. Your hips were slowing down but still moving. After a few moments though, another wave of choked cries erupt from your throat and more hot tears of humiliation slide down your skin. Your hands fly up to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I-”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s ok,” he says softly. He cautiously takes your wrists and pulls them away from your face. He takes one of your hands in his, soothingly rubbing the back of your palm. You whimper at the touch, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s ok, honey. I’m not mad. You can’t help it. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

You look into his eyes with your tearful gaze. Your breathing was a little ragged from crying, but it seemed like he was calming you down slowly. You nod with uncertainty, waiting for him to make the next move.

He was also unsure of what to do. This was so unlike you, he’d never seen you this emotional for one, but he’d also never expected to see you in this position. And the entire time your hips were still grinding on that pillow, back and forth like a pendulum.

“Is it more intense this time?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle to not upset you again.

“I guess,” you whimper, “I just… I wanted you.”

It pained him to see you so uncomfortable and stressed out. He wanted you to be able to come to him with these types of things, to trust him with yourself when you’re in your most vulnerable state. It was clear that you desired that too, to some degree. You were in his room, humping his pillow, wearing his shirt.

“Well… I’m right here, baby. I want to help if I can. If you want me to,” he says.

Your skepticism is written all over your face. But you needed this even if you were a little nervous. He pats his lap encouragingly, and that’s the final push you need to let go of the pillow and crawl into his lap.

“There’s my baby bunny. Sweet girl,” he says softly as he gets you situated. He peppers a few tender kisses on your head and strokes your back.

You had only been there for a few seconds, but your hips were already squirming.

“What do you need, baby? Just tell Daddy, and you can have it,” he whispers. The title rolls off his tongue as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It had caught him off guard when you said it, but after it rattled around in his head for a bit, it took root. Now, he just wanted to hear you say it again.

You whimper, looking at him through your lashes with those sweet eyes. At this point, you were all but riding his thigh. There’s a pause as you decide how to articulate your desire.

“I need… I need you,” you offer timidly.

“I know that, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “Try to be more specific for me. Daddy only wants to know so he can help you. Give you exactly what you need.”

He reaches up and cradles the back of your head, bringing you in to rest it on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around you and rubs your back. He holds  you as close as he can to give you that physical reassurance he knew you longed for in your condition.

You still hesitate, obviously working up your will to explicitly state your cravings.

“I want Daddy inside, wanna be bred,” you whimper, turning your face against his shoulder to hide your eyes. Your whole head felt hot with the weight of what you said. It was almost dizzying, but he swoops in with his cooing voice and gentle praises to keep you together.

“Poor baby,” he croons, “I don’t know how you handled this alone for so long, honey. That’s so unfair to you, all these big feelings you had to work through by yourself. So frustrating.”

You knew he was being excessively caring now, but you had no complaints. The loving cadence of his voice made your mind melt. All you could do is whimper and nod against his shoulder.

“You could’ve come to Daddy anytime you wanted. I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny, especially not about this,” he says, kissing your head and giving your ears a few loving strokes.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl. I’m here now. We’re gonna fix it. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he says.

He shifts you around a little so he can slide his pants down and free his hard cock. Your curious eyes dart back to his face after a quick look at the flushed tip and the veins spanning the shaft.

“You ready?” he asks softly.

“Mhm, need it,” you whimper in return, helping him get your hips into position.

He lowers you on to his cock. Both of you let out hushed noises of pleasure as the sensation strikes pleasure within you. His fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips as he slides further into you. Your arms tighten around him and your eyes already start to flutter at the snug fit.

You whine and babble out some nonsense when you’re finally flush against him. His cock twitches inside of you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. You could hear the tension in his own voice from exerting so much restraint. “You feeling any better?”

“Little bit, need more Daddy,” you mewl.

“Just give yourself a second to adjust, angel,” he grunts. You were pulsing around him, making it harder for him to not let go. 

But it seems you’re feeling the same way. You shake your head in response to his words and start haphazardly squirming around, trying to move up and down while still in his hold.

“Need it Daddy,” you whine, “Can’t wait. Pretty please.”

Like he’d said, he couldn’t say no.

“If you’re sure, honey,” he says and loosens his grip, “Be a good bunny and bounce for Daddy.”

That’s all you need to hear before you’re bouncing up and down. Wet noises fill the room as your slick pussy takes him in and out. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the embarrassment fade and just feeling the pleasure running through you.

Leon focuses on helping you keep your balance as you ride him. His own belly was twisting with ecstasy as your heat engulfs him over and over.

“That’s it, good baby,” he grunts, “Keep going, honey. Get it all out.”

You whine and continue on, up and down, up and down. More cute noises spill from your mouth as the head of his cock nudges all the right places. You ramble on, mumbling things like “love my daddy” over and over.

“Daddy loves you too, sweet girl,” he says softly.

He notices you starting to cling and whimper more. You were still riding, but your rhythm was becoming more awkward. You seemed more desperate even though you literally had him as close and as deep as physically possible.

He tries to help and do more of the work. He pulls you in close again and holds you against his body. Your face is pressed to his neck while he rubs the back of your head. His hips start to do the majority of the thrusting, bucking up into you fervently.

More incoherent strings of words escape you as you melt into his chest. You press a few sloppy kisses to the base of his neck. Despite him taking over, you were still being whiny and squirmy. He knew you were in discomfort, but it should be getting better, right?

“What is it, babydoll? What else do you need?” he coos.

Your head falls back and a sound of general pent up frustration escapes you. Your hips roll into his thrusts in large, needy movements.

“It’s not enough,” you cry, almost near tears from the ache between your thighs, “Need you more. Closer. Need it.”

You tug at his arms trying to get him to wrap them tighter. There wasn’t much Leon could do though. You were already as close as possible, any closer and you wouldn’t be able to move, which he was sure wouldn’t go over well with you. He felt so bad for you though. His sweet baby bunny suffering like this.

He watches you, your weak attempts at getting yourself off by rising and falling on his lap. He can’t take watching you struggle like this. Doing the only thing that could think of, he boosts you up and quickly flips you over.

You’re now pinned beneath him. His toned body is all over yours, heated skin pressed to you in every way. He spreads your arms out and holds your wrists down. His hips are against yours. He’s just grinding into you now, not even pulling out with his thrusts. He was as deep as possible. If this wasn’t enough, he didn’t know what else to do.

“How’s that, pretty girl? Is that how my baby bunny wants it? Wants Daddy nice and deep, ready to spill his cum and breed her cute pussy,” he breathes.

You nod eagerly, eyes rolling back at the relief you felt. This is what you needed. Feeling his weight on top of you, unable to move anywhere else.

“Mhm, this is what you need, sweet baby. You’re gonna take every last drop. Gonna keep it all in to make sure it takes too. If any leaks out, that just means I’ll have to fuck it back in. We’ll just have to go as many times as we need to,” he groans.

“Yes Daddy. Wanna take it all. Gonna be full of your cum for days,” you whimper.

“Yeah you will be. I think that’s what I’ll do from now on. Whenever my baby bunny goes into heat, I’ll have to stay home, make sure to keep you in bed, keep you plugged up full of Daddy at all times. That pretty little head won’t have to think about anything but being bred,” he says.

You just nod again, unable to get proper words out at the minute.

“I feel you squeezing, sweetheart. You getting ready to cum for Daddy?” he coos and reaches up to stroke your ears. He hikes your thighs up more, giving him a deeper angle to drive into you with. You gasp from the change, and your noises get higher as he rams in as much as he can without it being painful.

“Daddy!” you cry out. It’s all you can say. You had more, but it could only come out in the form of that one word right now. He’s all that was on your mind. Daddy daddy daddy.

“Yes, baby. Yes. Daddy’s here. Gonna fill you full of cum and then love on you for the rest of the night,” he purrs, “My baby was so brave, dealing with this all by yourself. But doesn’t it feel so much better when Daddy takes care of you?”

“Mhm, mhm,” you agree quickly.

Your hips start bucking while your body spasms. Leon knew this was it.

“Good girl, baby. Cum whenever you want. Let it feel good baby, get perfect and tight,” he says.

You do just that. You let the release wash over you. You shudder and dig your fingers into his muscles as the feelings bubble over.

“My perfect little bunny,” he praises softly while watching you let go.

It’s not much longer until his cock his pulsing violently within you. He thrusts as hard and as deep as possible before letting out a loud groan and burying his face in your neck.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” he mumbles.

He spills it all inside you, hips twitching and arms locking around you. In the end, you’re both panting. He pulls back a little to kiss your forehead again. He looks down into your eyes.

“How’re you feeling now, sweet girl?” he asks softly.

“Better for now,” you answer. Your head starts to clear and return to its normal state.

He nods and kisses your head again. He rolls over onto his back, scooping you up against his chest while staying inside you. He rubs your back gently.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispers, “Now you see you don’t have to do that alone. You can trust me, sweetheart. I only want to help you. Keep you happy.”

You nod and look up at him lovingly.

“If this is what you need, this is what you need. We can get through it together,” he says softly.

“Together,” you agree softly and scoot up slightly, kissing him gently on the lips.

He smiles big and holds you closer somehow. He leans in for another kiss and another. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue

part 1 | part 2

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, citation of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating

Carlos Sainz Jr was a true gentleman, a loyal and kind companion, a loving lover. A captivating man who won me over at first glance, with his chocolate-colored eyes and million-dollar smile. I didn't know who Carlos really was until I became deeply involved with him, until I realized I loved him so much that it wouldn't make any difference if he were a prince, a fisherman, or a mobster.

I met Carlos at the art gallery where I worked in Madrid; he was charming, affectionate, and too perfect to be true. He made efforts to create perfect dates and show all the affection he had for me; loving Carlos was as easy as breathing.

He was always very open about his feelings, his plans for the future, but he avoided revealing what his job was as much as possible. I tried to guess, after all, there aren't many job options in the market that could justify a huge mansion and the need for many security guards around him, but I never succeeded.

It took him a year to open up about his illicit activities to me, perhaps pressured by fate with subtle gestures. Before I could find out on my own, Carlos came clean.

I loved him deeply, but a woman has her limits and there are things I can't tolerate. I loved him infinitely, but thinking about all the things he did or was involved in made me sick. I had to overlook many things to be with him because, after all, I loved him, and that was what mattered, right?

"A monster is not a monster when you love it." This phrase was never more true. Carlos was never a monster to me, even after he told me all the terrible things he had done. I would still love him anyway.

Carlos loved me for five years, loved me while we timidly got to know each other, loved me when I tried to leave his life, loved me with all my mess when I moved into his house, loved me on our wedding day as we shared tears, loved me through three wedding anniversaries. But he didn't love me when I had to mature, when I realized that in the life we were living, you either bite or get bitten, when I realized that staying clean-handed would only bring me grief and sadness.

He began to distance himself gradually: the bed seemed too far away, he kept his hugs at bay, stayed late at the office to avoid sharing a bed, left early from our house to avoid breakfast together. I spared no effort to keep him close, planned dinners he would make excuses not to attend, tried to surprise him at the office only to be chased away. Then came the day he decided to move rooms. I was startled to enter the room we shared, where we had been so happy, now empty, without his clothes, without his pillow, without his bath products.

It hurt too much to see him so distant. He claimed he needed time to think, but there was no emotion in his words. We were both scared of what had happened in the previous months. After the incident where they tried to hurt me, I needed my husband's help. I wanted him to protect me, I needed his support, needed to be strong like him and not just his helpless wife.

Even after all my efforts to make him love me again, he never returned to our room. Then the girl came into the story. A woman's intuition is funny; I knew the moment he came home on a certain day that he had found another woman. Even with all the moments I tried to change Carlos's mind, using every possible means and humiliating myself more than I would allow at any other time, nothing stopped that moment from arriving.

"What is this?" I ask, not daring to touch the envelope in front of me.

"They're the divorce papers, y/n..." Carlos sighs, appearing for the first time in a long time for breakfast. "I tried to be as fair as possible, but you can look at them and then we'll negotiate."

"There will be no negotiation, Carlos! Because there will be no divorce," I reply, trying to stay firm. This day seemed close, but something in me still refused to believe it would come. Something in me refused to accept that I would have to divorce Carlos. This was just a phase, something that happens to any couple; we didn't need to be extremists.

"Y/n... please, be rational. We can't prolong this; it's the best way out for both of us," he tries to negotiate.

"And I disagree with your opinion. My God, Carlos! We're talking about our marriage! You didn't even try to give us a chance," I respond, frustrated.

"There's no solution anymore, y/n..." he murmurs to me, and that breaks me even more.

"I won't sign them, Carlos," I push the envelope away from me. The wedding ring gleams on my left hand with the movement, a simple touch of irony to the whole situation.

English is not my first language.

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

[deathbxnny]

I hope you dont mind another one but it’s something i’ve been thinking about. Dw this is more hurt/comfort. Can I request Wriothesly, Ayato, and Tighnari reacting to an alternate version of their dead kid all grown up? Like my other request, can you write it where it happens during their respective Archon quest (and well for Ayato, his story quest)?

Context:

He used to have a kid. Whether the kid was related to him or not doesn't matter as he still loves them all the same. But one day, his kid died around their pre teens. I'll leave it ambiguous on how they died but their death broke him.

Few years later, the genshin impact plot happens and he meets the traveler and their companions where one of them just so happens to be his dead kid's alternate self. And they're all.. grown up. Despite looking much older, he knew deep down that that's his kid but also not really his kid because he knows his kid is dead, they died young.

The person in front him is just an alternate version of them. A glimpse of what his kid could be if they were still alive..

- Flower Anon 🌸

This one hurts so well, Flower Anon, so thank you so much for another great request!!<33

(Just like the other request, this is also generalized to make it easier for my fish memory brain-)

Content: Reader died young, mention of alt reader being more of a doppelganger in a way, grief, vague child death, angst, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》TIGHNARI

Tighnari didn't notice at first, or well, he tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that you looked eerily similar to his deceased child. His heart was racing, ears flattening to his head momentarily, so many unsaid words stuck in his throat. And then there was nothing.

His face gently relaxed into it's usual deadpan, shoulders dropping, his instincts grimly reminding him that you were indeed not his child, but somehow just a coincidental and much older doppelganger of it.

But the heart ache began to linger for different reasons. Mainly due to the fact that a part of him finally healed at the sight of you. He always wanted his young one to grow up happy and healthy. And whilst it never got to do so on it's own, he allowed himself to imagine that his child lived on through this version of you.

》KAMISATO AYATO

Ayato smiled bitterly, immideatly recognizing your younger features in this much older version. His heart hurt, ached, and felt like it was being ripped out all over again, yet his signature smile still remained. He had a role to play, an important title to uphold. But he still couldn't bare to look at you directly after the first time he did so.

His answers to the travelers and Paimons questions were short and swift, making it kind of obvious to his sister next to him how desperate he was to get away from everyone. Not that she could blame him, as she felt the same. Your death broke everyone in the family, and they found no joy in seeing you all grown up because this wasn't you. You weren't the child they lost.

Ayaka eventually feels too faint to continue the conversation, which frees the two siblings from you and your companions questions and confused glances. The silence between the two is deafening, as they watch you leave with dull, solemn looks, the questions of "what if" and "if only" plaguing their exhausted minds.

》WRIOTHESLEY

Seeing you, an older you, stand there with the traveler and Paimon whilst he went to greet you both, made him nearly consider turning around and leaving at once. He never confronted your death, mainly to protect his strength and what was left of his sanity after he lost you. He never spoke of you either anymore, going as far as forbidding anyone to ever mention it, too.

He just couldn't stand it, having become so awfully bitter over time, and it only worsened at the sight of this alternate version. His jaw clenched, and he had to take a deep breath to quell his confused temper. Why did he feel so angry? Was it the regret and grief of never being to actually see the real you this way? Shouldn't he be glad that he had seen a glimpse of you as an adult after all? Perhaps his anger stemmed from the realisation of permanent loss. You weren't his child, despite the similarities.

It makes him become alot harsher to you three and the Hearth children that were lurking in the shadows. Whilst he may have been more merciful beforehand, he just wanted you all out already. He wanted to return to the peace he had made with the darkness in his heart. If it wasn't for Sigewinne telling him to focus on the plan at hand, he would've perhaps lost it entirely a while ago.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Oooh you do yandere stuff?? Can I please have something for yandere Joshua Graham, either headcanons or the alphabet would be great!

Yandere Joshua Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » yandere themes ➼ Genre » Romantic, Yandere

Affection - How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Joshua shows his affection through how he shelters you. He hates it when you leave the camp without him, and does everything he can to ensure you won't end up being a target for the White Legs or any other Legionary assassin that may come for him again. He's fully aware of the influence Ceasar has and would take this aspect of your relationship very seriously. You won't leave without someone else going with you. He simply won't allow it.

Blood - How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

In a normal relationship, Joshua would be more hesitant to show how violent he can get. But, in this situation, all the drive to hide who he really is goes out the window. He's willing to go as far as he needs to when it comes to you. Anyone necessary. The tribals, your companions, and even Daniel. He'd slaughter them all if it meant you'd be safe. He'd even do it in front of you.

Cruelty - How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No. He thinks it's rude. It's not your fault that you aren't as experienced as he is. In fact, the whole reason he'd abduct you is to be able to keep a better eye on you. Making fun of you for something that was inevitably going to happen isn't something he's prone to doing.

Darling - Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He's going to have you baptized, whether you want to or not, but besides that, he wouldn't dream of forcing you to do anything you didn't want to.

Exposed - How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

There are times when it feels as if you don't even know the man. He's quiet and incredibly closed off, even to you. He'll try to discreetly tell you about himself through bible verses or poetic words, but other than that, he's not jumping for you to learn about his past with the Legion any time soon. He wants you to love and trust him, not despise him.

Fight - How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He understands it. This world is harsh, of course, your instinct is to fight him. However, after the first week of staying with him, he hopes you’ll calm down and finally just accept that you’ll never get away from him.

Game - Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He won’t. If you try and escape the humble home he’s managed to set up for you both in Zion, he’s going to be upset. Even with all the knowledge he’s told you about the White Legs and all those around who want to hurt you, and you still want to try your luck? He’ll be disappointed, to say the least. He expects you to have more instinct than that.

Hell - What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

He's always taken his philosophies seriously, even when he was in the Legion. So, if he ever overhears you saying something he deems to be blasphemous towards his religion, you're going to have a very hard time calming him down. He'll force you to pray out loud to the Lord and ask for forgiveness until he's satisfied. It doesn't matter to him if it takes hours, he refuses to let you be shunned to Hell for a sorry mistake such as the one you committed. What kind of husband would he be if he didn't seek to save you from God's wrath?

Ideals - What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

If he had it his way, you’d be the perfect housewife, staying home to cook and clean while he went out and did whatever. Some Legion habits never left him, and coming back to a loving spouse who’s prepared to comply with his every whim is one of them. Just the perfect nuclear family.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets very quiet when he's jealous, preferring to be silent rather than blatantly lashing out at whoever is triggering these feelings. He thinks it's stupid that he gets so upset at the tribals for simply being around you. It's not like you'd leave him - not like you could - so why is he so stressed? He'll pray and go on walks to try and combat his jealousy, it's one of the only things he actively tries to work on.

Kisses - How do they act around or with their darling?

He acts as any spouse would. He kisses you on your hands or on your cheeks to greet you, rests a gentle hand on your lower back when you're near him, and does everything he can to take care of you.

Love letters - How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

As he believes any man should: with trinkets and thought-out dates. He wants to court you the right way, even if you’re aware from the start that you’ve got no other choice other than to accept his advances.

Mask - Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

On the outside it doesn’t appear as if anything has changed, however he feels different. There’s an urge now, something that tells him to kill. He’s felt it before during his peak in the Legion, but now it’s come back and he’s not sure what else to do than to quench the thirst of fear that floods him by ensuring your safety. Maybe it’s God's will that’s enforcing him to protect you.

Naughty - How would they punish their darling?

He’d shout and maybe grab your face, but he couldn’t imagine going any farther than that. If he wants to get his point across then he’ll just let you feel the raw fear that getting chased by Legionaries gives you (only once, he doesn’t want you to be actually harmed), but enough to get you to listen.

Oppression - How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He’ll take away your right to leave the tribes camp, your right to your weapons, your right to your opinions, your right of religion - there’s not much he doesn’t have control over.

Patience - How patient are they with their darling?

Joshua thinks he's patient, but he has a clear temper. He'll be kind one moment then angry the next. Although he does his best to not take it out on you, it's still terrifying to witness. Sometimes you wonder if it'd just be best to listen and avoid his fits altogether...

Quit - If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he’s got it in his mind that God assigned him specifically to defend you and keep you safe, so if he ever were to fail that, he’d feel as if he were betraying the Lord's trust.

Regret - Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

How could he? You're better off this way. He's sworn to care for your every need. He'll feed you, give you access to water, cloth you, comfort you, bleed for you, house you - why should he feel guilty about doing you a favor? For loving you?

Stigma - What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Joshua has always had this need to worship in his life. It could be seen with how devoted he was to the Legion and the will of Caesar, then with God, and now with you. There's a primal urge within him to commit himself to wherever he feels most desired, and that just happened to be you.

Tears - How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It shatters him, especially if you're acting like this because of something he did. He'll sit beside your curled-up form and whisper Bible verses and scriptures as a way to encourage and reassure you.

Unique - Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Vice - What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His religion is a massive weak point, and if you can somehow convince him that it was God's will for you to go elsewhere, he may just let you go. Granted, you'd have to be really good at persuading people. He's a logical man and won't just take your word for it so easily.

Wit’s end - Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally, but sometimes he forgets his own strength when it comes to handling you. He likes to brush it under the rug though, best not to think about it.

Xoanon - How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

In his mind, he's already won you over. Of course, he'll still go through the process of romancing you and won't ever stop doing that, but his delusions tell him that you've already fallen for him. One thing about Joshua, however, is that he almost sees you as a second Christ. If you ask him to do something, he'll do it no questions asked. But, in the same sense, he's paranoid that you'll be crucified just like the Lord and is constantly looking out for that certain 'Judas' that will betray you.

Yearn - How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Like a day. The second he feels different around you compared to others, he's got it in his head that you're a divine being or, at the very least, someone God wanted him to meet.

Zenith - Would they ever break their darling?

He hopes to 'break you in' to his way of life, but he hopes that it won't have to be violent or over the top in any way. He's certain you'll come around to his way of thinking soon enough, even if you need a little shove.

[louisarmands]

The Dark Gift

Summary and Notes:

What happened when Louis left Daniel in the penthouse with Armand. Apologies if this is messy, I wrote it very quickly. Feedback is appreciated. I love these two so much.

Word Count: 1376

 Louis was gone, and Daniel was alone in the penthouse. Alone with Armand. The room suddenly seemed larger, more empty. The stark white walls loomed over him, cold and imposing. A prison. A coffin. A tomb. 

He quickly put out the flames on his laptop with a blanket, the smoke stinging at his eyes. He shoved the smoldering hunk of metal in his bag, eager to get out of there like he had been warned. Louis had threatened Armand and told him not to touch Daniel but Louis was gone now. And what could an old man with Parkinson’s do against a 500-year old vampire? Gathering the last of his things, Daniel turned the corner to the elevator. 

And there was Armand. Covered in dust from the walls cracking from the force of Louis’s anger, his face bruised and bleeding. His brown curls framed his face in a halo. Even battered, he looked like a renaissance painting, a vision of graceful beauty. But for once, he didn’t look composed. He looked… broken. But under the surface, under his glassy amber eyes, there was rage. He was shaking with it. 

Daniel thought he looked small. Almost childish. 

“You know what will happen if you hurt me. You heard Louis. So are you gonna let me leave or what?” Daniel remarked, playing up his usual sarcasm even though his heart was beating out of his chest. And he knew Armand could hear it. 

Armand smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Hurt you? Oh Daniel, I would never do that,” Armand replied, stepping closer to Daniel, a wild look in his eyes.  

“If I wanted to do that I would’ve done it already,” he said, cold and calculating. Armand the snake. Armand the one who hides, the one who sits back and lets things happen. Armand, who was looking at Daniel like he was prey.

“So what, you’re just fine with me ending your 77 year relationship? With me exposing all of your lies?” Daniel scoffed, in disbelief that he wasn’t a melted puddle of bones already. Then again, Armand never was one for action. 

“Was it you who ended it? When I am the one who drives people away again and again? Over and over? When I am the one who lies for self preservation?” He said quietly, his eyes never leaving Daniel’s. He didn’t blink. 

Daniel was shocked at his… self awareness. He didn’t think Armand was capable of that. 

Armand continued. 

“I love them more than they love me, and every time I realize that, I try to hurt them. I take everyone and everything away from them so they only have me. So they rely on me. I give them everything, and it still doesn’t work. It never does,” 

Armand was breathing heavily now, a strange instinct for a vampire with no need for oxygen. His voice was quiet, but he spoke with a sense of mania that made the hair on Daniel’s arm stand up. This was a vampire on the brink of an explosion. 

Armand went on, incensed now. 

“Tell me, Daniel, why do you think I do this to myself? Am I broken beyond repair? Am I worthless?” He hissed, his fangs showing now, his eyes shaking, pupils blown wide. Gone was the angelic, statuesque, mild-mannered companion to Louis. This was a vampire. This was a monster. 

The mask had finally come off. 

Daniel backed away, speechless for once in his life. There was no witty one-liner that would save him now. 

Armand lunged forward and sank his fangs into Daniel’s neck. 

Daniel gasped, the pain like two white hot daggers slicing through him, his vision turning black at the edges. But as soon as there was pain, there was ecstasy. 

Daniel remembered 1973, how Armand had lulled him into a dreamlike state, whispering to Daniel, telling him he would be nothing, and Daniel had succumbed to his powers, floating on the bliss, allowing himself to be slowly drained.

This was nothing like 1973.

This was better than every drug Daniel had ever tried. Every time he had shot up with heroin, multiplied one hundred times. Every time he had been coked out in some dingy basement with god knows who, in screaming color. He could taste the high, he could see it, smell it. He felt like he was hundreds of miles above the penthouse, floating, flying, going the speed of light. 

He didn’t know if it was seconds or minutes or hours later when Armand pulled away. The vampire had Daniel’s blood on him, on his mouth, on his shirt, his neck, glistening crimson on his brown skin. His eyes were fixed on Daniel, a blissful expression reflected in them.

 Daniel thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

And then Armand took his nail and sliced his wrist open. 

“Drink,” he ordered, offering it to Daniel. 

Daniel finally spoke, his voice coming out hoarse.

“What? No. What the fuck, Armand?” He protested, reeling from the proposal.

He had thought that perhaps Armand was just desperate to feel anything other than the pain of losing Louis, and in his pain, he fed on Daniel.

He was wrong. Armand wanted to turn him. Armand, who had never made a fledgling. Armand, who was repulsed by the idea.

“Drink,” Armand insisted, backing Daniel against the wall. He held his wrist up to Daniel’s mouth. He was pressed against Daniel, his face an inch away from the other man’s. 

“You wondered how I taste. Now you have a chance to find out,” he breathed, eyes darkening. 

“Dying of a disease that has no cure, and you would turn down immortal life? You would deny yourself that? I can give you what you want. I can give you eternity,” Armand whispered, his eyes flicking down to Daniel’s mouth, his own lips scarlet with Daniel’s blood. 

In the coming days, weeks, and years, Daniel would try and fail to remember why he had done it. Why he had given in and taken the dark gift. In that moment, there was nothing else. There was just him, his body slowly failing him, and Armand, a vengeful Lucifer who had fallen into his path. There was only Armand.

He bit down on the wrist. 

The blood gushed into his mouth, and he balked, the taste at first metallic and unpleasant.

“That’s it, Daniel.” Armand murmured, his other hand reaching out to stroke Daniel’s face. 

And then Daniel’s vision went black. He was still drinking, but it no longer tasted like blood. It tasted rich and sweet and powerful and he couldn’t get enough. 

Images flashed through his mind, images of Armand. Armand as a young boy, running through the streets. Running from something. Armand in a dimly lit room, surrounded by men who leered at him, saying something in a language he didn’t understand. Armand being used, over and over and over again. Armand crying, his body broken and bruised. Armand being turned by Marius. Armand in pain. Armand in Paris, with the coven. Armand with Lestat. Armand with Louis. Armand’s emotions crashed into him like a wave, the churning sea of five hundred years of memories drowning Daniel, making him gasp and choke on it. 

Daniel ripped himself away from Armand’s wrist, sickened by the images he had seen.

Armand stared at him, horrified. Daniel somehow instantly knew Armand was aware of everything his blood had shown Daniel. 

Daniel felt alive. Suddenly all of the aches and pains that came with old age were washed away. His eyesight was clear. His senses were heightened, the world around him suddenly in high definition. He opened his mouth, feeling his sharp fangs pierce his bottom lip. 

He was a vampire.

“Why?” Daniel whispered, aghast. 

“Why did you turn me? You said you never would. You said it repulsed you.”

Armands face crumpled. For the first time since Daniel had known him, he was crying, bloody tears streaming down his face. 

“I wanted… I wanted you to see me,” he said, his voice breaking. “I wanted you to see me as no one else has. Only you.” 

And then, faster than even Daniel could see with his new abilities, Armand was gone. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

[mixiury]

Here with you — Wanderer x GN! Reader

Summary: After a long walk with Wanderer, you ended up exhausted, taking a small nap with your companion in the middle of the forest.

A/N: I corrected some typos I noticed after reading this again. I am dyslexic and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there is still some. Please feel free to point them out!

"Come here, lie with me."

"Why would I? To get my clothes dirty like yours? No thanks." Wanderer answered to your request almost instantly, showing little interest in changing his mind.

Both of you have been walking for hours now, enjoying the cool breeze that the trees of the Sumeru forest release.

It's hard to keep track of time in a place like this, especially when the silence and calm stretches out in its entirety and all you can hear is the soft melody of the birds with the snapping grass and leaves you are stepping on the ground while you walk.

But even though your hiking companion doesn't need to take breaks and the beautiful views of the landscapes along the way help in motivating you to continue exploring, you soon end up finding your feet and legs demanding you to rest, lying down on a small and comfortable hill, while Wanderer reluctantly agrees to wait for you a few minutes.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me? The sun is nice." You know what his response is going to be, but you keep insisting anyways, hoping that some miracle will happen that would make him change his mind and rest alongside you. However, as was from being expected, his head just turned away, ignoring your request with the same stubborness that characterizes him.

Defeated, you find solace in the warm sunlight and fresh grass you lie on, slowly imbuing yourself in its trap as your eyelids fight to stay open.

It is not until he notices how quiet you have become that Wanderer's gaze finally returned to your sleeping figure, noticing each deep breath you take as your chest rises and falls steadily, with nothing to interrupt you from falling into your calm, soft slumber.

It's annoying how you allow to put yourself in such a comfortable state in the middle of nowhere. As if, in this precise moment, nothing else mattered.

It seems like you don't know how easy of a target you are right now, not worrying about your surroundings and all the dangers that are around you. It only takes a few seconds to end a human's life and it's much easier when you're in such a vulnerable and peaceful state that you wouldn't even be able to react before you feel the pain of your aggressor hurting you.

And yet, the mere thought of it makes him feel sick and jealous of you at the same time. How can you live your life so carelessly? Is it because you don't have any self-prevention instincts inside that empty brain of yours? Or are you just so naive that, even knowing how he can easily leave you to your own devices, you still trust him enough to allow yourself to be in this position?

Knowing you will probably never tell him, he decides to search the answer by himself, quietly approaching you and laying down next to you, hoping that the sound of the grass rustling next to you won't wake you up or interrupt your dreams as he watches you in complete silence.

And it's only now, after he finally gave into your request, that he understood what you were talking about.

The faint rays of the sun really feel like a bliss the moment they caress your face, intense enough to embrace you with their warmth but not to the point of burning you. Contrasting with the cloudy and gloomy Inazuma mornings he had grown used to.

It has been so long since he felt this warmth and calmness, still staring at you steadily and letting himself enjoy the peaceful nature of the moment.

It feels illegal that him, out of all people, could experience an instance like this. He, whom from the day of his creation the only birthright that has been given to him was an eternity of grievance, shame and solitude, simply lying on the grass without any other concern but you.

He doesn't understand it but he wants to. Your presence itself has already helped him understand a hint of your normalicy, something that he had spent decades chasing and longing for but was never able to hold for long enough to call it his. And yet, he lets himself fall into your trap and comfort, finally taking a break from all the thoughts that have been stuck in his mind as he simply rests by your side.

[citruswriter]

Once Upon a Time, On a Cold and Rainy Night

Astarion x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort, ascended Astarion, major abuse, abusive husband, afab reader, feminine terms, they/them pronouns, feeding, oral (f receiving), begging, slight degradation, praising (m receiving bc he's a good boy), pet names.

Extended Blurb

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖ��ᵘˢᵉ

"What?!" Astarion's voice shrieked, echoing off the castle walls. You stood in front of him, hands balled up into fists and you glared up at him. "You heard me! We're through!" You yelled back before spinning around to grab a bag packed with essentials. "After everything we've been through? After everything I've given you?!" He shouted back, tone giving away just how hurt he was despite his rage. "You've changed! You're not the man I fell in love with!" You screamed back, twirling around to be practically nose to nose with him. You stared up at him defiantly. "After you ascended, you changed. I see so much of Cazador in you now and it scares me. So yes. I'm leaving. The man I loved died in that room with Cazador. You haven't given me shit". You spat, tears beginning to streak down your face. You hated this. Astarion straighten to his full height as he himself struggled to keep his tears in. He wanted to break down, fall to his knees and hold you tight, promising to change. Please. I'm sorry, you're right. Give me a chance to change. Please I'm still so new to this, don't leave me now. Was all he wanted to say, but his pride wouldn't allow him to. He turned his back to you to hide his face as tears slowly began to stream down his face. "Very well," he growled out at last. "But this is very much your loss". And with that, you were gone.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Life was well for awhile. You struggled for a bit, working multiple jobs to stay afloat. One day you met a man, he was handsome with kind eyes. You two instantly got along and he'd go out of his way to see you at one of your jobs or another. He'd make you laugh, surprise you with flowers, and bring you jewelry. He was gentle and looked at you with such adoration. He reminded you of your Astarion before he ascended. In this man, you found normalcy once again. It wasn't long til you two started seeing each other outside of work. Years passed and eventually the two of you married, having a small wedding with close family, and for you old companions. Minus Astarion, of course.

"(Y/N) can I speak to you?" Gale asked as he pulled you away at your wedding. "What's up?" You asked, beaming with joy but your smile fell as you saw Gale's solemn expression. "I don't know how else to say this but I have a bad feeling about your husband. I know your happy but I just have this... nagging feeling." He said, eyes downcast. You furrowed your brows in worry. You grabbed his hands in your own and smiled softly. "Gale he's a good man". You murmured and Gale squeezed your hands. "I hope your right. Hopefully I'm just being paranoid. You know you're like family to me". He gently said back.

But as you ran through the cold and dark night, rain pelting down on you, you couldn't help but think back. You couldn't believe it. Gale was right. You and your husband had about two years of a beautiful and loving marriage, but it all fell apart one night. He came home drunk and demanded dinner, you joked and asked him to say please, but was met with a fist to your face. Ever since that night, your husband abused you nightly but was loving and doting during the day. Tonight he came home and wanted you to put out. He'd never pushed for such before, which you were grateful for, but it seemed as if he had decided to take his abuse further. Absolutely not. You grabbed your cloak and ran into the cold dark, causing your husband to run after you in a rage. You were soaked to the bone as you ran, twisting and turning down random roads. Wait. You thought all of a sudden. I know this road... I'm on the path to Astarion's castle... It had been seven years since you had seen your old lover. Memories of him rushed back, causing your chest to become tight with heartache. There was a huge possibility that he would turn you away and you'd be dragged back to your hell. But it was a risk you were willing to take.

You sprinted forward, running down the familiar path to his place. It wasn't long before you saw the magnificent building you once called home. Looking around, you heard your husband in the distance. Panicking you ran up the stairs, banging on the doors with both fists, chest heaving with fear.

Inside, Astarion was in his study reading a book. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the sudden banging. Grumbling he stood up and walked over to the front door. Who would even be out in this kind of weather? Imagine his surprise when he opened the door and was hit with his scent. "(Y/N)?" He questioned, too shocked to really be able to process what was going on. "A-Astarion. P-Please you need to help me." You stuttered, shivering as the wind caused the cold to sink into your flesh. "Oh really? And why should I, hm? After all these years, why should I he-" he was cut off by another voice in the distance.

"I swear to god (Y/N)! When I catch you, you fucking ungrateful bitch, I'm going to beat your whore face until your unrecognizable! You stupid cunt!" The rage in your husband's voice caused you to start trembling in fear, sobbing at the closeness of his voice. He was so close... Astarion looked down at your trembling figure and sighed, grabbing your arm as he pulled you in. A yelp left your mouth as you were drug into the warm and cozy building. You stood there, trembling still, as your body readjusted to the new temperature. "You're lucky I still have a soft spot for you, (Y/N). Even after you shattered my poor little heart. I could have left you out there but-" you didn't hear him as you began to dissociate, the realization of what you had just done began to sink in. You ran away. From your husband. And of all people you ran to, you ran to your ex. A blood thirsty vampire with a hunger for power. "So (Y/N)," Astarion saying your name snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality, "What do you want?" You would need to show him... He'd need to see...

Shaking, you sighed and undid the string of your cloak. You took a deep breath as you prepared yourself for what you were about to do. Slipping the cloak off and letting it fall to the floor, you looked up at the man you once called your world. Astarion wasn't sure what he was expecting, but as you saw a look of utter horror form on his face, you could tell it wasn't this. Bruises littered your body, fresh and old. One on your collarbone, several on your arms, and hand shaped ones around your wrists. "There's... there's more... elsewhere". You squeaked out, dropping your gaze. Suddenly he rushed forward, gently placing a hand on the small of your back to rush you to the bathroom. He sat you down and began to draw a warm bath for you. He took his time making sure the bath was the right temperature and placing items in the bathroom for you to use. Ointment, lotion, and a silk bathrobe. To be more precise, your old silk bathrobe. The one that had been his favorite to see on you. The corner of your mouth twitched, how cute. "Take a bath. Clean up. Stay in there as long as you need. When you get out, we can pick back up talking. Is that ok, darling?" He asked softly. You looked up at him and his heart almost broke.

You were utterly soaked, hair wet and messy, cheeks still tear stained, eyes empty, body still trembling slightly. He had never seen you look so broken. So... fragile. Fluttering your eyelids softly, you nodded. "Ok", you said softly, voice cracking. His gaze softened. Fuck. What exactly had you gone through in the past seven years? He bent down and went to touch your face but you flinched away in fear, face scrunching up and breathing picking back up as you expected to be hit. In that moment, you reminding him so much of his spawn days. It hurt him so much. Gently, he cradled your jaw, causing your breathing to slow back down. You sighed and leaned into his familiar gentle touch. "Ok darling?" He asked, as if asking for confirmation for his original question. He was making it known that you didn't have to if you weren't comfortable. He wouldn't be surprised. You opened your eyes again and looked at him, eyes not as empty as they were seconds ago. "Mhm. Yes. I'd love to, Astarion". You murmured. He smiled softly at hearing you say his name once more after so many lonely years.

Astarion waited patiently for you as you bathed. His ears twitched as he heard you step out and begin to dry off. When you stepped out, tying the robe tight around your waist, Astarion patted the bed, silently instructing you to sit in front of him. "Come. Let me do your hair". He said gently. You obediently did as you were told, climbing up onto the bed and turning so your back faced him. Crossing your legs you resting your hands in your lap, humming softly as he began to tend to your hair. "What happened?" He began softly and you sighed. "I thought he was a good man..." You started softly. Biting your lip you placed a hand on your chest, taking deep breaths to ground yourself. "When I left, I was alone for awhile. I worked many jobs. Well, one day he just... popped up. He was so nice back then... So wonderful and kind. We started to hang out after work and it wasn't long before I realized that I had fallen in love with him. Months later, he proposed. It was good for awhile. He was still gentle even after the marriage. But I guess he felt like he had trapped me within love because one night he just... stopped. He came home one night and beat me. Our marriage wasn't the same after that. It just got worse and worse. Tonight, I left. I ran. Before long, I realized I was close to your place so... I ran to you. I didn't know if you'd help me. But I was willing to take the risk..." You trailed off.

Astarion stopped his actions, thinking on his words before answering. "You ran to me? But... you said I wasn't the man you once loved... You said he had died". You bit your lip, staring off into the distance. "True... but even you wouldn't have sunken that low. He did all the things to me that you would never dare do". You said, voice cracking. Astarion hummed in response. "You know," you said with a soft, bitter laugh, "I used to tell him about the things Cazador did to you." You said. Astarion winced, old memories briefly flaring up. "Nothing too detailed. But I guess I gave him enough details to inspire him..." You said, voice shaking as you untied the sash of your robe. Your chest felt tight as you pushed it off your shoulders, revealing scarred writing on your back. Astarion almost cried out in horror as he saw the carvings on your back. His hands trembled as he brushed his fingertips against the words. "I'm so sorry..." He whispered, voice cracking. You shrugged your shoulders before pulling the robe back up. "Not that big of a deal. It's been there for the past four years". You said casually

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as he continued to finish his task of doing your hair. "There. All done, my treasure." He said softly before he could stop himself. He stiffened as he noticed you raise your head, eyes slightly widened at his words. Turning your head, you stared up and into his eyes. His eyes were always so gorgeous... They were still the same shade of ruby red. They never failed to capture you and draw you in. "Astarion?" You said, voice soft and filled with adoration. He swore he felt his dead heart skip a beat. You began to lift a hand, reaching for his face, his eyes flickered to your hand before going back to gaze into your beautiful eyes. He held his breath as he saw the uncertainty and want swirling in your gaze. Please. Please touch me. He thought. He bit back a whine of desperation when you dropped your hand back down. No, no, no. Don't shut down on me. He thought as you went to turn your head away.

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Despite your previous hesitation, you instantly responded to his desperate hunger. Tears began to streak down your cheeks as your emotions became too much to bear. "I'm so sorry, Astarion. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for leaving." You said between kisses. "Shhhhh. Shhhh. It's ok, little love. Forget about the past," he breathed back. You slipped your hands to wrap around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair and pulling gently. A growl left Astarion as he suddenly grabbed you and maneuvered you to be sitting on his lap, legs straddling him. He clutched you close, nails digging into your flesh causing you to whine softly. "Astarion..." You moaned out his name and he pulled back. You attempted to chase him, leaning forward but he gripped your jaw and chuckled. "Look at you," he purred, "barely back for half a day and you're already moaning out my name again." You whine in embarrassment and bury your face in his chest, causing him to chuckle again.

Dropping his head, he drug his fangs against your neck, causing you to shudder and grip onto him. "Say your mine," he growled out. "Say you'll never leave me again." Your breath hitched you felt his nails dig into your bare thighs, heat rising in your core. "I'm yours Astarion. I'll never leave again. Nobody else has my heart," you cooed into his ear, causing it to twitch. Without warning, he picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. You squealed, back hitting the soft bed you shared with him years before. You immediately propped yourself up, looking wide eyed at Astarion. "Good girl." He said, tone possessive. Your breath picked up as he crawled over to you. This man was a predator, and he planned to eat you whole.

Hands skimming up your body, he scratched all your pleasure spots. He noticed how you squirmed and sighed against his touch, how your body practically sang for him. "Seems like even after all these years," he untied the robe and gently spread it open, hand skimming over your abdomen and breasts, "I still know your body like the back of my hand, darling". You hummed and rubbed your thighs together, an action he immediately noticed. Not like he needed to, he could smell your arousal. It doused his senses like sweet honey. Unable to help himself, he dove between your legs, tongue immediately on your hot core. You yelped at the sudden contact but made no move to pull away. In fact you gripped the blankets and carefully slid your legs over his shoulders, giving him permission to wrap his arms around them and grip them. You moaned and arched as he hit all the good spots like he used to do. You swore, it was as if the two of you hadn't even spent a night apart. The map to your body seemingly still freshly carved into his mind, it both scared and excited you. It wasn't long before Astarion grew bored of eating you out and instead decided to move to different territory. Kissing up your body, you shuddered whenever his fangs would accidentally brushed up against your skin. You pulled him up and kissed him before tugging at his clothes. You wanted skin to skin contact. He laughed softly at your desperation but obliged, shedding his clothes off before pressing his body back against yours, causing you to shiver in delight.

"Please," he begged as he bowed his head back at your neck. "Please, my love". You looked down into those puppy dog eyes of his. It had been so long. He just wanted a taste. He just wanted you. Your essence. You. Biting your lip, you nodded and moved your head to give him access. A hand came up to cradle the opposite side of your face before he sank his fangs in, greedily feeding upon you. You whined at the pain but leaned your head back and let him take his feast regardless. He skimmed his hands up your thighs, making you lift your hips in content slightly without thinking. You winced as Astarion seemed to dig his fangs in deeper, oh how he had missed the divine taste of your blood. He grabbed the plush of your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, jerking you towards him and grinding his erection against you. You cried out in unexpected pleasure. The mixture of the pain at your neck and the pleasure at your core intoxicated you, driving you absolutely feral. "A-Astarion! Astarion ple- fuck. Please." You began sputtering. The vampire lord pulled back, looking at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Oh how he loved it when you begged. "I haven't fucked you in years and the moment my dick touches you, you're already a sputtering and begging mess. My, my. You haven't changed at all. Still hungry for my cock. Did you ever beg for your husband's cock?" He teased, tone taunting. Say I'm better. He was silently saying. Sheepishly you shook your head no. "Ah ah. You know better, pet. Speak." You whined and he gripped your jaw, "I said speak, pet".

"N-No. No Astarion. I never begged for my husband's cock." You finally stutter out, embarrassment written across your face. The vampire smirked, rubbing his length across your core to gather your slick, making you squirm. "Did he ever please you, my love? Did he ever make you feel stuffed full like I did?" He questioned. "He did please me. But not like you did." You breathed out, biting your lip as Astarion teased you with the tip. "Oh so you're saying I'm better?" He asked, ego obviously inflated. You laughed softly. "Absolutely, my dear. So much better. So, so much better. Fuck. Nobody could fuck me like you do, Astarion. Shit. Astarion, please!" You begged, practically crying. Astarion couldn't help but proudly bask in your praise for a moment before swiftly stuffing you full. You cried out in relieved pleasure. Astarion had intended to tease you, stay hilted in you until it drove you crazy. But the way clenched onto him for the first time in forever made him feral. He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, drawing out a string of noises from pretty lips. Pulling you close, he smashed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss, bruising your already flushed lips. Clawing at his back you left angry red lines on his pale flesh. "Oh you wanna play that game?" He quipped. Without warning he clawed at your flesh. He drug his nails across your back, ribs, stomach, hips, and thighs. You wailed in pleasurable pain, leaving Astarion to grin down at you sadistically.

Wanting to get back at him, you pulled him back down to your level, kissing him so tenderly and gently before looking up at his adoringly at him, "I love you so much, pretty boy". Astarion moaned and his hips stuttered their brutal strokes. "Fuck, darling. You can't just pull that on me. Fuck I love you too," he whined out, burying his now flushed face into your neck. You laughed out but it was cut short with a sharp thrust up into that oh so lovely spot within your plush walls, causing you to scream out instead and grip onto him. He moaned into your ear as he felt you clench onto him tightly. "Fuck you're so tight, darling". He groaned before continuing to abuse your g-spot. You cried out as he continued to turn you into his cock drunk whore, babbling about how good he felt and how well he was fucking you. It wasn't long before he felt his orgasm coming onto the rise. Moans getting louder, he dropped a hand to rub at your pearl. You jerked and wailed out, becoming overstimulated as he continued to abuse your pussy however he saw fit. Arching as a knot formed in your stomach you babbled out, trying to warn him but you were so far gone that all that came out was a few stuttered letters. "Shhh shhh. I know. Cum with me, pretty please," he breathed out, practically making you melt at his little pretty please. You nodded, chest heaving as you did your best to breath, beaded sweat falling over your silky flesh.

Astarion's movements began to get sloppy the closer his orgasm came. Panting he wrapped an under your back to bring your warm body closer to his. "Now," was all he whispered in your ear and suddenly your orgasm crashed over you. You momentarily stopped breathing as it ran it's course through your body and blinded you. A string of curses left his mouth as he plunged as deep as he could, tip kissing your cervix as he spewed his seed into you, moaning as he felt your walls flutter around his dick. Taking a moment to breathe, he stared down at your figure and in that moment you looked utterly divine to him. "You are just... so beautiful". He said, practically swooning before pulling out and crashing beside you. You smiled and rolled over onto your side. "I've missed you," you cooed, making him turn to look at you with his sappy puppy dog eyes. "I've missed you too. I'm so happy you're back, darling. I love you so much," he said, drawing you close to him. You tilted your head up, nuzzling into his neck as you allowed him to hold you in a possessive grip. "You're mine. All mine. And I'll make sure nobody ever hurts you again." In the back of your mind, a little voice screamed at you. Telling you that you needed to run. Astarion was still a walking red flag, it didn't matter how tenderly he treated you or how much he loved you. You need to run. RUN! But as you laid there in his embrace, you ignored the screaming of the tiny voice, instead choosing to snuggle in closer and fall asleep. You'd never leave again. So what if he did some (not so) mildly evil things? He did genuinely love you. He was always a sweetheart to you, even if others had no chance at receiving mercy from him. You'd never leave him again. Because the last time you did, it was very much your loss.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

✨Bonus✨

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Your ex-husband screamed at you, spit flying from his mouth as you packed your belongings, Astarion and Gale close by so he wouldn't try anything. "I told you he was bad news," Gale said with a grown, to me full of distain. You laughed and looked at him with a playfully annoyed grin, "Guess I should've listened to the magic man, huh?" You giggled, causing your ex-husband to stutter before continuing his screaming fit. "Dear you're giving me a migraine," you spat, whipping around to stare at the man behind you. "Well maybe if you- wait. What the fuck is that on your neck?!" He screamed, glaring at the deep fang marks on your neck. "Did you let that fucking bastard turn you into a goddamn spawn?!" He screeched, causing Gale to rub his temples. You growled and glared back, "As a matter of fact, I did! Not that it's any of your fucking business!" You yelled back. "Why you little fucking bi-" "Keep talking, I fucking dare you," Astarion cut off the man. He glared at the vampire lord but his masked fear was still very obvious to him. "I'm finished. Boys, can you help me?" You asked, both men barging past your ex to help you pick up your things. Gale used his magic to carry the two chests stuffed with clothes while Astarion effortlessly picked up some boxes filled with dishes you absolutely insisted on bringing. Picking up a bag you pushed your way past your ex-husband who was still having a screaming tantrum. As soon as his house was out of view, you let out a shaky breath. "Fuck that was terrifying," You squeaked out. "Well you're safe now. Even if it is with a murderous ascended vampire," Gale said, tossing a teasing grin Astarion's way. He scrunched up his face in annoyance but you could both tell that he wasn't actually mad. As the two of you set your things down and bid farewell to Gale, Astarion turned to you with a mischievous grin. "My spawn, huh?" He taunted and you rolled your eyes. "Oh shut the fuck up," you instantly replied. The vampire pulled you into his arms, his hands resting contently on your hips. "Embarrassed, my pretty consort?" He teased, causing you to groan and lightly smack his chest. "I think Mrs. Ancunin would be a lovely nickname," he purred, but despite his teasing demeanor, you could tell he meant it. "I think you'd look ravishing in white". He murmured as he leaned in, lips brushing yours. "Well you do have quite the sense of fashion," you muttered back, smoothing out his collar. "I think 'Astarion's Wife' has a nice ring to it..." You breathed, his eyes snapping up to yours. With a mischievous grin he picked you up and whisked you away. "Then I guess you better start wedding planning, because tonight I plan to make your little lie, a truth".

Awah! My latest masterpiece! When I tell you this took almost two whole days to write this, omfg. Poured my heart and soul into this thing. Please like it. 🥹

[pilot-boi]

In the Hare's Breadth au, I think Jaune would return to "normal."

He didn't get a choice in becoming the fusion in the first place, someone forced that onto him. Yang Chose to put her prosthetic on. There's a difference there.

There's sensitivity to sounds, lights, smells, he's so much bigger but just as clumsy, He's hungry almost all the time.

Yeah the added Strength and Speed is nice, but the bulk makes it hard to maneuver in tight spaces.

But more than that; It isn't just Jaune, It's The Rusted Knight and his STEED.

Juniper has been hurt as much as Jaune in this fusion, arguably more so as she makes up most of the mass.

While I'm certain Juniper would defer to Jaune's choice, I can't help but feel like she'd have something about the situation to input, even if it's just some emotion.

Even if Jaune chose to keep some animalistic traits, He'd choose to be relatively human again.

That's the point of Alyx's Dagger, to get back what he lost, and while he can never, ever be Normal again, he can regain some semblance of it, just like in canon.

Maybe He's hairier than he was before dying, maybe his hair is a different shade, but he gets to be his true, and only self again, as different as that may be from his previous self, the one that died on the tower.

Also this way Juniper has technically been to Remnant she's allowed to follow Jaune there and become the Team Mascot. Like she should've.

Man, I don’t even need to write this stuff, yall do it for me

I do think that if given the choice, especially after the Ever After and finding out WHY this happened to him, that he’d chose to become “human” again. Separating himself and Juniper into two beings for the first time in decades

He’d probably choose to retain some animalistic traits/tendencies. The claws and fluff on his arms and chest. Maybe even the ears, but definitely those first two

Gotta stick to the Falin inspiration lol

But yeah, I think he would return to being human. He’s not the hero, he doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t have to be the Rusted Knight anymore, and he doesn’t have to be part human and part animal, both and neither

He can just be Jaune. A little fluffy around the edges, but still just Jaune

And he can finally meet the companion who gave up so much to save his life before he ever met them. The jackalope

Jaune now understands that the way ascension works, you only become what you choose to be. The Blacksmith can’t force you to become someone, she just builds you into who you want to be. The person always agrees to it, they have to

That means that all those years ago, the jackalope agreed to give up her body, her mind, all to save his life

He’s never even met the creature

How could he not give her life back?

[frozenjokes]

time loop prison au except scar is the human sentenced to years of solitary confinement and cub and Cleo are the unfortunate kitty cat souls that stumble their way into his den.

tw: cannibalism, self mutilation, blood and gore, brief depictions on skin and hair picking that may be triggering for related disorders, general freak shit

Scar might not be human anymore, but he used to be. It’s unclear what happened to him; really, the people working on his case are trying to figure it out to keep this from ever happening again, but Scar was too destructive to keep on Earth, and maybe more importantly, too unafraid of hurting himself and others to understand what’s going on with him in a timely manner.

They send him to space. Scar used to love space, he did, but it means nothing to him now, not when he’s been deprived of the sacrifices he was surviving off of, the power that motivated him, that made him strong- was it so wrong to eat? Scar doesn’t care much for morals, only the wildly unfair way he’s been treated since he’s been apprehended- Come on! He wasn’t doing anything wrong! If he believes it will score him pity, he’ll claim innocence, though get too close and it’s the last mistake you’ll ever make.

He never once bothered with the puzzle. Not that he would ever have been freed anyway.

Scar smells like rot, pungent and overpowering, and maybe that’s because despite his still beating pulse, the body has been long dead. It bothers him though, it does bother him, but ever-charismatic for the cameras ever-watching, he tries not to let it show. Cruel of the humans, exceedingly cruel not to give him a companion. These types of prisons usually held two or three, didn’t they? He wouldn’t stink so badly if he just had that taste of flesh, any access at all, he was sure of it. He could go back to the way things were before, bright and beautiful and perhaps a little bit blood stained, but for the most part he cleaned up after himself. He wasn’t a monster for heaven’s sake! Or maybe he was. He identified differently depending on the day.

If he hadn’t been thorough with his clean up before, then he certainly was now. He did not like that he smelled. He had to make it go away, he did not know how, but he did have one idea, another desire so critical to his existence that the man who once lived in this body truly did not know how he’d gone so long without it. Overcome with that heady longing, he gives in and feasts on himself. He can not smell the rot over the stench of his own blood. And despite the fact that this does not work, that he is still rotting from the inside out, he finds a new excitement with his own skin. He wants to taste every part of himself.

Scar considers this phase of his prisoner life to be a brief bout of insanity, an age that he has long moved past. He still needs to eat, he needs it, and along with the desire for flesh of others, a lust that still rings unbearably strong in him, his own meat has been added to the menu. However, the way he engages now is far more civilized, more controlled, and when he bleeds out or dies in any number of ways, he knows exactly when and how these deaths will take place, and he never over indulges; if a plan is created, then it will be followed exactly. He makes sure to walk the people on the other side of the cameras through the entire thing first, tells them they’ll need to keep him accountable for his own self inflicted suffering, that he has to be good lest he be punished. He has never allowed himself to be punished before; at the back of his mind he knows they care not for his game, but to have this fact confirmed would ruin all the fun. He maintains his control.

But again, while the gluttony of self mutilation was a temporary relief from the hunger and the smell, he still stank.

Scar was fastidious with his cleanliness, he hated his body, he always felt dirty, and no amount of clawing at his skin would make it any better. Moles, hair, bumps, and imperfections created by past scars, they all had to go, they had to be destroyed. Scar was always bleeding, a constant of his existence, but that was alright, because blood could be cleaned, and while Scar never felt clean, there was a certain relief that fell over him during the act.

Scar did not sleep. He needed to sleep; his body did at least, but never once did Scar lay down to rest, and passing out from exhaustion was no different than dying.

And then the ship would shake from the blast of the explosion, and Scar would be frozen, shaken with the prospect of opportunity.

Two catfolk, ambitious, perhaps to the point of stupidity, but in their defense, they did not know the kinds of prisoners the humans locked up in these high profile cells. In most cases, it would have been reckless to break into one of these ships on purpose, but the danger would not stem explicitly from the inhabitants inside. If you knew this, if you were careful, perhaps the resources would be worth the risk.

Cub was dead within seconds of their first encounter; in future loops Scar might take his time, but he knew well that to keep his new companions, he had to kill them first. Scar was shot four times before Cleo was taken down as well. Scar circled the entire ship, hoping there would be more than two. Perhaps delirious from blood loss, he had been trying to clean up after his own blood trail before he collapsed.

The second round, he was so overcome by his hunger that he failed to kill Cub before moving on to Cleo, feasting over her corpse and shot dead in the act, five or six times before he truly stopped moving. Cub succumbed to his injuries soon after.

And for the next loops, Scar was hunting. He could think of nothing but hunting, eating, so consumed by his need to eat that he did not even realize his quarry were not human, that the flesh he so often tasted but could not swallow was not actually the kind he’d been craving. He persisted, regardless. Relentless. Unyielding. Being shot, even several times by both invading parties, was not enough to stop him from taking at least one of them down, and most days injuring the other.

But over the course of time and many, many loops, the mental strain stays. They all still needed to sleep. Adrenaline and terror kept Cub and Cleo awake, while Scar had gotten his fair share of meat. He was not able to indulge the way he would have liked, yes, but the thrill of a hunt more than made up for this desire, and after years of deprivation on Earth and in prison, Scar was finally, finally full. So one loop, over twenty four hours of combined time being awake, Scar left his bed and collapsed.

Cub and Cleo were waiting for his attack. It never came. With great caution, as they had been ambushed before, they explored the ship and eventually came across him, unconscious on the floor. They shot him dead. He never fought or moved. And so it was over. Without adrenaline keeping them on their feet, the both of them had no mind for anything else but sleep. Over the course of a nightmare so horrific it was difficult to accept as real, both catfolk slept soundly, curled tight around each other on the other side of the room. Scar was still dead when they woke up. Of course he was. But with this came the processing of what had just happened, and where exactly they were trapped.

They had no access to any forms of communication to Earth. No way to call home. In reality, both of them knew the risks of what they had just done, but neither had imagined the consequences to be so severe.

Over the course of their first twenty four hours here, both catfolk had died to a variety of the ship’s many traps, mostly trying to escape Scar. But even at their most careful, they were not used to this environment. Cub, headstrong and sometimes careless because of it, triggered the trap that killed both of them. Perhaps the two of them would have been a little more aware of their surroundings if they were not glued to each other’s side, but alas. What’s done is done.

In stark terror, they woke up in the next loop, waiting for Scar to come to them. There was a certain amount of learned helplessness here, having shot a man seemingly immune to bullets so many times, that neither cat really expected their means of defense to work. Maybe that’s why when their guards were finally down, when they were finally resigned to setting out through the ship to look for the human that plagued their new life, they only froze when the left door opened, and Scar poked his head through.

“Hello :3,” he said, perfectly friendly. And then they shot him dead. Over the next couple weeks, months even, this was how things went. Long enough at least that Cub and Cleo were beginning to feel the strain of being trapped here, wanting to know what had changed, why this stranger, previously monstrous, had been nothing but friendly over the past.. seven or eight times they killed him. Clearly he did not hold grudges.

Scar could not have been more delighted not to be shot dead on sight! What polite gentlemen these aliens were, he had never met an alien before, though he did have a cat once, before.. Well, no use dwelling. The catfolk would get no opportunity to speak or ask questions, Scar talking nonstop as he declared a grand tour. He would not even stop to breathe, almost as if he forgot he needed to, wheezing through the words he couldn’t quite force out until he was literally blue in the face, then was forced to stop, taking a few seconds to breathe. If Cub or Cleo said anything during these break periods, Scar would deftly ignore them, continuing on as if no one had spoken. There would be no getting through to him, not this loop at least, not before he turned on Cub in the middle of his speech, stopping suddenly for the more appealing venture of eating a man alive. Scar did not stop trying until he was physically unable, his head and by extension jaw blown clean off. Cub did not survive this encounter, leaving Cleo alone.

And so more loops pass in a similar fashion as before, shooting Scar dead the moment he showed his face, though, it was obvious by now that if he intended on hurting them from the beginning, he would not die so easily.

When Scar was first given the opportunity to speak, neither Cub nor Cleo were expecting an apology.

“It’s been a while..” Scar had shrugged, waving a hand dismissively, “They’re not kind to me like you are back on Earth. I got nothing. Nothing to eat, no one to talk to.. This has all been so cathartic!” And it surely was, wasn’t it.

Better to keep Scar dead than alive, a dead Scar was the only good decision to do with him that the catfolk could have made, but alas, with an alive Scar there was a certain kind of hope, a kindled flame that might draw light to the dark of their hopeless situation. Scar could help them, if he wanted to. He could give them information, tell them anything that might lessen the burden of this situation, tell them how long they were going to be stuck here.

Scar was uninterested in those kinds of questions, nor was he the kind of man to give anything away for free.

As time and loops passed, Scar was less sporadic, less unpredictable, and would go full days without attempting to dismember one or both catfolk. When he wasn’t violent, he was truly amiable, curious; he wanted to know things, know about their lives, domestic habits, he wanted stories, and really it did start to seem like he wanted the normalcy of their lives for himself, though he couldn’t quite grasp it. There seemed to be a separation from the Scar that just wanted to talk for hours about the benign, and the Scar that tore out their still beating hearts, devouring everything as one or both watched.

But there was no difference. If there was ever a man in that body, the smell of rot that exuded from his skin should have been enough of a tell that he was long dead.

Easier, perhaps, to go blind to the smell. To excuse small instances of cruelty, growing larger every passing day. What do you do if for a fraction of the information you’ve been yearning for, he asks for your flesh? He asks you to watch, he asks your companion to stand by while you take it. What if he asks you to eat each other? Surely it’d be worth it for a call home, right? Scar sure thinks this is reasonable, and he’s been so kind this past week, hasn’t he.

You grow to fear those long periods of peace. You know he’s waiting to ask for something bigger, something worse, something you know that one day, you won’t come back from.

When Cleo is dead, killed and consumed by your hand, he asks for your body. He knows his is rotting, that he can’t stay here much longer, not after his prison sentence is over. He needs a new host. He’d like it to be you.

What if he told you he could bring you home? If in exchange for your life, he could ensure Cleo’s was preserved. People don’t last very long outside of these prisons.. and after all the horrible things you’ve done up here, would you be able to live with yourself anyway? Would Cleo?

I can take it all away. I can make sure you both survive.

And of course you want her to survive. Of course you do. It was you who suggested they go along with Scar’s demands in the first place, pull those pieces of information from his teeth, it was so reasonable at first, not anything he wouldn’t have taken anyway.

It was you who suggested she steal from one of these human prisons with you. It was you who got her into this mess. You made her a monster right beside you. You wanted her to survive.

So of course you accepted. Was there ever another option?

[bloody-cupcakes]

please please PLEASE some scary 11 x reader? I‘m a SUCKER for scary 11. when he gets angry, and invades ppls space, yells in their face? he can be so dark…. (swoons.)

what about him intentionally scaring the reader, to get them to be obedient for him? almost driving them into a panic attack, just so he can be the one to comfort them? 😳

Honestly I also have an unhealthy attraction to the Eleventh Doctor when he's acting all scary so-

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping/Stockholm syndrome, the Doctor purposely upsets the reader using degrading words just so he can be the one to comfort them, the reader ends up distressed because of the Doctor and cries because of it, very brief shoving from the Doctor that could be seen as physical assault, gaslighting/manipulation

"What in the hell is wrong with you? I told you to stay on the TARDIS where it was safe so you wouldn't get hurt!" The Doctor didn't get truly upset often, but if there was one thing that was sure to bother him it was the thought of you getting hurt, or worse yet, getting away.

"I- I'm sorry! You weren't back when you said you'd be, I thought that- that something awful had happened!" You were visibly close to tears, but that didn't stop him from getting closer to you and shouting some more.

"I can regenerate, unlike you." His tone was cold and patronizing, the usual childlike mischief in his eyes replaced with a much darker look. "I'm also not stupid enough to ignore a few simple instructions left for me."

Despite the guilt you had for ignoring the one command he'd given you before he left, you still had enough of a defiant spark left in you to feel indignant over his words. "I am not stupid," you insisted with a glare while clenching your fists.

"Oh, really?" He scoffed as he moved forward, that single action causing you to shrink back and cower in fear. "You could've fooled me."

"I- I'm not," you reiterated, your voice not sounding nearly as confident as before. In fact, it was a little shaky, the fear that was beginning to build up within you spilling over into the way you spoke.

He noticed the change in your demeanor, feeling proud of himself for how easily he was able to get to you. Now all he needed to do was put the final nail in the coffin. "Maybe I should just take you back home to earth if you're going to insist on disobeying me."

A sudden gasp of disbelief left your throat when he said that. There was absolutely no way he'd actually leave you behind... right?

"No, Doctor, please, I'm so sorry, I'll never disobey you ever again, please-" Tears freely dripped from your eyes and down your face in salty streams as you reached for him, only to have him roughly yank your wrists back and use them to shove you away.

"I never should've brought you along with me in the first place. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being, and an even worse companion." He didn't raise his voice this time because he knew he didn't have to. He had you right where he wanted you to be, and that was in a fit of hysteria, reduced down to nothing more than a crying mess at the idea of him abandoning you.

"No... Doctor, please..." You sank to the floor in a heap of sobs, covering your face with your hands as you choked out apologies in a quivering voice. "I'm sorry... I'll never, ever disobey you again... please, Doctor, don't leave me..."

It was hard for him to keep from grinning at just how pitiful you looked, but he didn't want to mock you any more than he already had. "Oh, you poor thing." He knelt down beside you, the sadistic side of him that took pleasure from upsetting you now concealed behind his usual caring act.

"Don't leave me..." You begged while reaching out for him a second time, letting out a sigh of relief when he allowed you to cling onto the front of his jacket. "I'm sorry, Doctor..."

"I know you are. It wasn't your fault, dear. You were just feeling a little more anxious and worried for me than usual, which caused you to act carelessly and without thought." He rationalized your sudden emotional outburst as if he hadn't been the one to cause it in the first place. You were too focused on the kindness of his words and the warmth of his touch to notice.

Burying your face into his chest, you inhaled his scent, glad that he no longer seemed to be angry. "Yeah..." You mumbled out an agreement, too tired to do much of anything else.

The Doctor smiled at the docile way in which you were acting, pleased at just how easy it was for him to break you down into little pieces for the sole purpose of being the one to build you back up again.

[moonselune]

hiii it's revivify anon again (can I be 🐶anon?)

ahhhh your takes for the male companions reactions are so real!!

as a galemancer myself, I absolutely see him going the god route to bring them back. he's probably spin it as something like, "it was my ambition to bring you back. Therefore, i am allowed" (honestly, I could see him becoming so much darker if he brings back his fallen love. He'd probably keep them in a gilded cage of sorts. Always saying that he has their best interests at heart, that he's better and more reliable than all other gods. That no one, god or mortal, could love you better than him, so you should worship him just as much as he worships you... man... the potential.)

Thinking about astarion losing his love just hurts because like... they came and healed his heart only to shatter it all over again? If it was BEFORE the cazador fight, I think he'd definitely ascend himself. Why worry about losing your soul when you've already lost your heart? If it was after the cazador fight, I think he'd just kick himself for letting you convince him not to do it, and eventually circle back to the idea that he should've ascended. Maybe then, he could've saved you....

Oh, Wyll.... I get what you mean about not wanting to immediately go down that route of trading his soul to another Patron. I think if Mizora caught wind, she'd absolutely taunt him with it. Always hanging around like a bad smell, dangling the chance to bring his love back as long as he signs away his soul in a Pact eternal with her. I think as long as he had his friends around, he would be able to stand firm and remember that his lover would've shattered at the idea of him sacrificing himself. I'm not sure if I'm misreading his character or not, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't take another lover. He'd probably 1) blame himself for the loss of their life, and 2) think he isn't worthy of love again, and 3) probably love them until he dies tbh. He wouldn't want another lover, because they wouldn't be his lost love :'(

DARK HALSIN!!! Girl... your mind.... you are so onto something. I could totally see him going shadow druid tbh. He'd probably stop and be like, "you know what? Maybe they were right. Maybe I should've embraced the shadows. Maybe I still should..." or like, if people venture far enough into the woods, they might come across a corpse perfectly preserved as if theyre just sleeping, reeking of druidic magic. There's tons of plants surrounding the body. Some consider it a holy site, some consider it cursed. But all agree not to linger too long, lest the beast that guards it finds you...

CW: Dark Content

Of course 🐶 nonnie !

Oh my god yes yes yes yes, I have done a galemancy run and it was one of my favourites. The way this man would be like "I am doing nothing wrong" and there's just a pile of bodies behind him because he keeps messing up this necromancy spell that requires a sacrifice. Oh my lord and when it finally works and you are alive, back and well. He is overjoyed and is like my love! You have returned! Don't look at all the blood and bodies, just come this way my love! No the outside world will harm you, my love, just follow me! Look at this room it has all your favourites! Those windows have never opened my love, here's your favourite tea!

And he is NEVER going to let it go that he brought you back- ever. You are his masterpiece, the fruits of all his labor, the perfect embodiment of his ambition. He is your creator, you, the perfect creation. You belong to him. You will watch him ascend and you will take your place below beside him.

Resisting is pointless, you wouldn't want to go back to that cruel afterlife. Maybe if you are being particularly ungrateful, you would like a taste of what he rescued you from? Sending you into a spiral of nightmares until all you can do is cling to him in fear. He strokes your hair as you cry and murmurs how all he did was save you from this and you want to defy him? Hurt him by saying all those cruel words?

Well shit this is gonna end up as a fic isn't it?

YES, pre cazador, definitely would ascend and I can go see him going after people who look like you but as soon as they do/say something that is out of character for you, he just murders them. Justifying it by saying if you don't get to live, then neither do the poor imitations of you.

If he didn't ascend I reckon he would make a deal for him to get some sort of power, as you said, his heart died with you, what does he need a soul for? And then that takes us back to his ascended behaviour.

Oh baby boy Wyll, I agree, I do not think he would take another lover, but he would move on, I can see him becoming Grand Duke and shaping Baldur's Gate into a City that you would have survived in. He would name so many things after you, you liked books? He would build a library in your name? You always said you wanted kids or a big family, he builds an orphanage for you, telling the children stories of you. I think eventually as Wyll gets older and Mizora still tries to tempt him, he eventually enjoys her presence - as every time she tries to lure him into darkness, he can hear his beloved guiding him back to the light, and that he would never give up. Mizora is like wtaf, fine, you will never see me again, and then she's bored and shows up.

Dark Halsin !!! We love you !! He would have such a guilt complex about the shadow druids, how they were right etc. AND YES OMG you read my mind, parents warn their kids not to play too deep into the forest and for those wayward ones they come back, trembling with fear as they say how the beast roared and swiped its sharp paw at them. (Halsin would scare them away, I can never imagine him being violent with kids). But for those trying to prove their strength and valour by rescuing the beautiful maiden - they are never seen again.

Oooooo I cannot wait to sink my teeth into this!

[ezraischell]

Tags: angst, mentions of yingxing, reader is a short lived human, what lemon? i only have onion, dan feng is still pining for yingxing, ooc dan feng.

“a moth to a flame.” —dan feng x fem!reader

Dan Feng's heart shattered into pieces as soon as death took Yingxing into its embrace. The wind howls through his empty soul; you know he has not moved on.

What hurts most is that he will never love you the way he loved his now deceased lover.

You make him feel some semblance of happiness again, yet the pain within him is still raw. Perhaps it's because just like Yingxing, you are also a short lived species.

"I love you, but..." he declares, his words followed by haunting silence. The tension has increased as you await his next answer.

"But you're not him."

You remained silent upon hearing his voice, his words acting as though they are that of a thousand swords, mercilessly impaling your heart through and through, and yet, you never uttered a single word and never have you broken out of your stoic character just to breakdown in front of him. No, you wouldn't do that, you couldn't.

"I understand." Was all that she could say. Despite that, she knew deep down that it definitely hurt more than what she had perceived for herself.

He knew that he had inflicted pain upon you with his words, but he couldn't bear to lie. Despite his love for you, his heart still ached for Yingxing. The void in his soul persisted, a constant reminder of his lost companion.

He reached out to gently stroke the side of your face, his touch tender and reassuring, despite the weight of his words.

"You deserve better than this," he murmured, his voice filled with a hint of regret. "You deserve someone who can love you fully, without any reservations."

"..."

You wanted to recoil from his touch but you didn't, you remained still under the influence of the remaining respect and attachment that you still bore for him.

His hand, no matter how much it seemed like that of a cold touch burning painfully against your skin, remained.

And yet again, he was right. You deserved better than a bare minimum treatment from him, you were simply too blind and incapable of recognizing it for yourself.

As Dan Feng observed your stoic demeanor in response to his touch, he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration with himself. He wished for you to react, to express your feelings, to show that he meant something to you.

But instead, you remained quiet and still. It was as if you had built a wall around your heart, refusing to show any vulnerability.

"You know I can still love you in my own way, right?" he whispered quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of longing and softness.

No matter how much he tried, you wouldn't budge or give in. Why would you? You were built and molded by the cruel world into a being incapable of ever finding the key within yourself to free your emotions.

No matter how much he loved you, you will never be able to find it in yourself to reason with him nor his words. You were simply crafted that way by the world.

"I sometimes wonder why you have walked into my life of solitude, only to ruin its peace the longer you stay."

While you understood that he could not move on from his dead lover, It always left you wondering silently to yourself why he chose to give you hope, only to take it away and break it when he realized that he cannot love you the way you expected him to.

Frustrated by your lack of response and hurt by your cold demeanor, Dan Feng couldn't help but express his confusion. He was at a loss as to how to connect with you, how to reach you.

"If you're so upset with my presence, then why do you tolerate it?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of anger and despair. "Why do you allow me to be near you if it brings you nothing but pain? You have the power to push me away, yet you choose not to."

"Just like how a moth is drawn to flame, no matter how harmful it may be to them, I feel something similar akin to that.."

Despite your cold exterior, had always been drawn and attracted to his affection like a moth to a flame, always seeking the light in the dark and the warmth in the freezing world.

No matter how painful it may be, you knew what you wanted. If you truly love him, you wouldn't leave no matter how harmful he is to you.

Just like how harmful a flame is to a moth. However, you didn't need his pity, you never will. You do this out of your own will, even if he still cannot move on from his dead lover and sees you as a mere replacement.

He sighed heavily, his anger slowly fading away to give way to a deep sense of sadness. He took a moment to compose himself before replying.

"I wish I could love you the way you deserve," he said softly, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I'm afraid that a part of my heart will always belong to Yingxing. It's not fair to you, and I know that. But..."

He trailed off, his eyes downcast. He knew there was no justification for hurting you like this, and he hated himself for it.

"I am aware.. that's why, i would like to leave you and end our relationship. I wish to sever my ties with you, Yinyue-jun."

Perhaps it was out of the impulse influencing your feelings and causing you internal turmoil. But you knew better than to be selfless and disregard yourself, that would be very disrespectful to your own being.

You can't live without him, or so you thought, but then again, can you live with him while knowing he is hurting you? No, you could not. You knew better than that.

His expression grew grim as he heard your words. He knew this moment was coming, yet he still felt a pang of disappointment in his chest.

"If that is your decision, then I cannot stop you," he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I want you to know that I truly cared for you, and I never wanted to hurt you."

He reached out a hand towards you, his eyes clouded with sadness. "Will you give me one last embrace before you go?"

"Unfortunately, i cannot."

With that being said, you walked away. You walked away, severing your ties with him and freeing yourself from the shackles of his love that you assumed for yourself.

"Farewell, Yinyue-jun."

[yanderes-galore]

@okchijt

@shinjisdone if you still like BOTW mutual.

I hope this came out well- It's not really gorey but Zelda never usually is so-

Yandere! BOTW! Link Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Mentions of death, Manipulation, Dubious affection, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Like other Links in the past timelines, Link is also a quiet hero.

He most likely met you after his century long rest and resurrection.

If you think of what this Link has gone through... he's certainly been through a lot.

He's died trying to defend the kingdom, he wakes up to see all he cares about dead, he's alone as he tries to fix Hyrule.

Having a companion to help him along the way could potentially cause obsession.

He has no other companions when he first wakes up and begins to train.

Zelda is locked away to keep Ganon from growing in power.

The Champions have died with their spirits locked away in the Divine Beasts.

Sure, he gets companions and allies as he explores.

But his journey still feels rather lonely.

Not only that but he may not even remember them due to his memory loss.

You are the face that greets him when he manages to make it way into a village.

It's a surprise to see Link of all people 100 years after the battle.

However, you still make an effort to aid the hero.

Link notices the hope in your eyes as you offer him whatever supplies he may need.

You offer tools, scavenged weapons, food, water, whatever.

You even offer companionship.

Link naturally finds himself drawn to your helpful nature.

Your companionship touches his heart, friends are something Link needs during his journey.

You offer him a bed to rest and buy trinkets he finds to sell to you.

You help him find a good stable and horse to use on his travels.

The first village he visits, your village, he often revisits.

He hates that he doesn't remember much of anything.

All he knows is he has a purpose, even if his memories have been wiped away.

Part of him uses this to start new.

He allows you to be the first companion in his journey, one he can rely on as he grows stronger.

Link would still do what he's fated to do.

He'd challenge shrines to regain his strength.

Then he'd use such strength to aid Zora's Domain, Rito Village, Death Mountain, and Gerudo Valley.

Yet when it comes to rest, Link always treks back to your village on horse back.

It's like each day the knight of Princess Zelda comes back to you stronger.

He gives you a soft smile and holds out little things he's found for you.

You are too scared to leave your village most of the time due to Ganon's monsters.

So Link makes you feel like you're on this journey with him by gifting you treasures.

They're little gifts from him, it shows he cares.

Link's attachment to you grows as his journey continues.

He's silent, often speaking in actions more than words.

He's playful at times when he sees you again, encouraging you to hug him when he visits.

He takes you on horse back at times just to see things.

He promises to protect you outside of the village.

If any monster of malice threatens you, Link slays them with a blade and watches as the dark aura drains from them.

He apologizes with a hug that you nearly got hurt.

Truth is, he'd slay anything to protect you.

No matter how dirty the job is.

I feel Link trying to encourage romantic attraction between you would consist of gifts and physical affection.

He collects flowers on his journey to give you.

He collects shiny jewels for nothing but attention in return.

His hugs also appear to become longer the longer he's away.

Maybe he'll even sneak in a kiss on the cheek.

Before he lost his memories, Mipha and Zelda were potential partners he could choose.

But now... he only ever wants you.

In fact sometimes he wishes he didn't have to bear such responsibilities of piecing together Hyrule alone.

He just wants to settle down with you in your village.

He hates it when he has to part from you, especially for the final battle.

Even when he regains his memories, his thoughts of you stay rooted in his mind.

He no longer wants to be with Zelda romantically.

He's her knight, sure...

Yet he still wants you.

So when he comes back after saving Hyrule, why do you refuse him after everything?

You tell him he belongs with Zelda.

But he doesn't want that.

He wants you.

You seemed so susceptible to his affection before?

Every kiss, touch, hug, and gift....

Now... you won't embrace it.

You claim it was wrong to give into him, or that you never saw him in such a way.

Well... Link simply won't stand for that.

You've been a big help to him through his journey.

Even if you never physically came with, having somewhere to retreat to after battle felt fantastic with you.

Link isn't going to accept leaving you, he's tired of things never going his way.

So he decides he'll always stick by you, like it or not.

You can't get rid of him.

You can try to push, yell, and threaten him.

He doesn't listen.

He's fought off the evils of Hyrule just to be repaid with your affection.

He won't let you take that away from him now.

He's way stronger now and won't let you go.

You'll be safe with him... he promises to love you as repayment for helping him...

He's chosen to love you and no one else, even willing to even fight fate to stay beside you instead of anyone else.

[supernaturalscribe67]

My Best Friend

Words: 1,907

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Male!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Loss of a pet, descriptive death of an animal (no gore), hurt/comfort, I cried while writing and revising this so beware...

Summary: Luna has been by the reader's side ever since he first started hunting. However, as the years went by and as she got older, he had been seeing less and less of her because of his profession. Little did he know that when he said 'goodbye' to her before his latest hunt, it would be for the last time.

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As soon as the Impala pulled into the garage, (Y/N) was quick to jump out of the backseat and head for the front door of the bunker. A smile was plastered on his face and the excitement of returning home soared through him. Dean and Sam both stepped out of the car. 

“Hey! Aren’t you going to grab your things?” Dean called out. 

(Y/N) turned his head to look at him as he opened the bunker door. “I will in a minute!” He called back before he rushed inside. 

(Y/N) barrelled down the stairs and began to make his way down the hallway toward his bedroom. “Luna!” He called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Daddy’s home! I brought a present for you!” 

It didn’t take long before (Y/N) got to his room, the door slightly ajar, just as he had left it before he went on the hunt. As he peered into the room, he was able to see the pile of black fur that rested atop the comforter of his bed. His smile widened. 

Luna had been (Y/N)’s traveling companion ever since he started hunting. He had found her on the side of the road as a kitten and nursed her back to health. She had been with him for years, hopping from motel to motel. It made hunting a little less lonely. When (Y/N) met the Winchester Brothers and the offer to move in with them was fronted, it took a lot of convincing for Dean to allow the pet he was allergic to in the same space as he was. Eventually, he caved, and Luna and (Y/N) moved into the Men of Letters Bunker. 

As Luna got older, she didn’t do as much moving around as she used to, but after each hunt, (Y/N) always brought back a little present for her, whether it be a new toy or a new pet treat he knew that she would love. Although he didn’t see her nearly as often as he wanted to, (Y/N) knew that, with Luna being at the bunker, she was safe, and it made him feel overjoyed whenever he got home. 

(Y/N) chuckled ever so slightly as he walked into the room. He kicked off his boots and tossed them to the side. “Hey, sleepy girl,” he said as he knelt beside the bed. “You remember how you hit your mouse toy under the fridge and we couldn’t get it back? Well, I got something that might be able to make you feel better,” he smirked as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small green and yellow mouse. “It’s not your old toy, but it's something,” he shrugged. 

When (Y/N) looked down at Luna again, he noticed that she hadn’t lifted her head. She hadn’t even opened her eyes to acknowledge his presence. (Y/N) gave a small smile as he reached over, placed his hand on top of her head, and, using the pad of his thumb, lightly pet the bridge of her nose. 

“Luna,” he cooed in a soft tone. 

Even with the gentle touches, Luna was still. Cautiously, (Y/N) reached his thumb down and caressed her grayed muzzle, brushing her whiskers ever so slightly. Still, she lay unresponsive. The smile faded from his lips as he felt a lump begin to form in his throat. 

“Luna?” His voice was quiet. 

(Y/N) pulled his hand back from her face and placed it carefully onto her stomach. He waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And her stomach never moved. 

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood. He licked his lips as he crawled onto the bed, watching Luna as the bed dipped, yet all she did was lay there. When he got himself situated on the bed, legs crossed loosely, he reached over, placed one hand underneath her body, and picked her up, bringing her close to his chest. Her head lulled to the side as it lay limply against him. 

(Y/N)’s eyes began to well up with tears as he brushed her fur out of her face. “Please,” he breathed as his bottom lip began to tremble. “Please wake up.” 

Luna never woke up. 

Soon, the dam broke. Tears began to stream down (Y/N)’s cheeks, leaving wet, red streaks as he pulled her even closer to him, nuzzling his cheek against hers, rocking himself back and forth ever so slightly on the bed. He sniffled as he let out small, pain-filled sobs. The emotions hit him like a truck. Luna was gone. His hunting companion was gone. His best friend was gone.

(Y/N) didn’t even hear the footsteps that came down the hallway and halted at his door, his cries and the breaking of his heart being the only thing that filled his ears. Dean peaked his head into the room, a concerned expression on his face. He placed his hand on the doorframe as he leaned against it. 

“(Y/N)? You okay?” He asked, his voice laced with worry as he slowly stepped into the room. 

As he got closer to the duo, he surveyed the scene in front of him. The way Luna’s body rested against (Y/N)’s chest, the wet spots on his cheeks, and the sound of (Y/N)’s cries. It didn’t take long for Dean to understand what was happening. He raised his brows as he looked down at Luna, his eyes immediately filling with sympathy as he walked over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

Even though Dean was less than happy at first to have a cat in the bunker, he found that he had grown rather close to Luna. Although she caused his allergies to act up substantially, he had learned to love the way that she would nuzzle on his lap when he was watching a movie or the way that she would sneak into his room at night sometimes to cuddle up to him. Even though there were days when he would have rather not been around a cat constantly, he could never imagine a day going by without her being there. He saw the way she made (Y/N) smile. How close they were. He could tell that Luna meant a lot to his friend, that she was his family. 

And now she’s gone. 

Dean said nothing as he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, pulling him close. (Y/N) laid his head against Dean as he cried. His chest moved up and down rapidly with the increased rate of his breathing. His tears left a wet spot on Dean’s t-shirt, but Dean didn’t mind. Dean closed his eyes as he rubbed (Y/N)’s shoulder comfortingly. 

After a couple of minutes, (Y/N)’s sobs began to diminish as he looked at Luna. “I should have been here for her,” he whispered, his voice shaky and broken. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on that hunt. I-” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I should have stayed with her…” (Y/N) shook his head. “She must’ve thought I left her.” 

“Of course, she didn’t, (Y/N),” Dean said in a soft, reassuring voice. “She loved you. She would get so excited whenever you would come back from hunts.” 

“Then why didn’t she wait?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but closed it. He shook his head slightly. “She probably didn’t want you to see her like this.” 

(Y/N) sniffled and paused for a moment. “She was always so stubborn.” 

Dean let out a dry chuckle. “She always did like to remind us that she was in charge.” 

The tears had stopped at that point as Dean and (Y/N) sat there in silence. Dean’s hand ran up and down (Y/N)’s shoulder while (Y/N) ran his fingers through Luna’s soft fur. It felt like an eternity before (Y/N) finally spoke. 

“Dean?” He asked in a whisper.

“Yes?” 

“Can you…” he hesitated. He sat in another minute of silence before he continued. “Can you help me give her a proper funeral? A hunter’s funeral? I…I know she’s just a cat, but-”

“Hey,” Dean interjected as he pulled back to look down at (Y/N)’s face. “She wasn’t just a cat. She was a hunter, just like you and me. She may not have killed monsters like us, but she was with you every step of the way. I’d say she deserves a hunter’s funeral.” 

(Y/N)’s bottom lip began to wobble once more as he heard Dean’s words. He sniffled and reached up to wipe the fresh tears away from his eyes. 

“Thank you.” 

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The crisp night air felt heavier than it should have been. The stars twinkled bright that night as the quiet wind caressed (Y/N)’s face. Dean finished placing the wood together in the smaller, makeshift pyre he had constructed. (Y/N) sat and watched as he held Luna’s body, wrapped in cloth, close to him. Once Dean was finished, he stood up and backed away, his boots crunching against the leaves that rested on the ground. He turned and looked at his friend for a moment, giving him a small nod. 

(Y/N) nodded in return as he walked up to the pyre. He looked down at the wrapped-up bundle in his arms and placed a loving kiss atop Luna’s head before he set her down on the wood. He reached into his pocket and took out the small toy mouse that he had gotten her. He stared at it, his fingers brushing over the fabric for a second before placing it on her body. He then backed up and stood next to Dean. 

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. He held it out to (Y/N). (Y/N) glanced down at the lighter, seeing the silver finish gleam in the moonlight. Timidly, he reached over, grabbed it from Dean, and opened it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, attempting to will away the tears that were starting to form in the corner of his eyes once again. It took a while for him to finally open his eyes and ignite the flame. He hesitated, watching as the flame danced on top of the hood, before tossing the lighter towards the pyre. 

The wood burned agonizingly slow. (Y/N) watched as the fire began to spread, engulfing the remains of his best friend. He thought back to all the moments that they shared. The times when he would come back from a hunt, beaten and broken, but he would still have her to cuddle with to make him feel better. The times when he was trying to research and all she would do was plop down on his book or laptop and beg for his attention. The times when he would cry over the loss of his friends and she would bring him her favorite toy to try and comfort him. Even the times they got on each other’s nerves. Luna was still there for him, through the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

And as he stood there, watching as the firey embers drifted off into the night sky, he couldn’t believe that it had taken him so long to realize; 

Luna had saved (Y/N), just like he had saved her.