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scaralvr · 2 years

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hello! i would like to request prompt #15 with haypasia and scaras dynamic and him trying to get you jealous but you take it the wrong way + hurt/comfort, thank you!

only you — TRIAL FOR YOUR HEART EVENT scaramouche x gn!reader (possessiveness, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort)

☆ prompt(s) used : are you jealous yet?

note(s) : thank you for requesting, traveler! i really like the idea of this concept so i hope you like how i wrote it (o´▽`o)

one tiny mistake caused your lover to completely lose his trust in you. after being so careful, you just had to slip up. the fatigue was getting to you, and you know how scaramouche gets when he sees even the slightest hint of an illness. he's so careful with you, handling you like a porcelain doll and that if he isn't considerate, you'll break.

you did break, you shattered right in front of his eyes. you passed out mid-conversation and scaramouche's distress was at high. you didn't see how his hands trembled as he held you, you didn't see how his gaze flitted from the slow rising of your chest to your closed eyes. you didn't see how visibly worried he was.

scaramouche wasn't going to let anyone betray him again, even you, his (s/o). he didn't care whether he was going to have to use force to teach you a lesson. he's grown tired of your petty little lies just so he doesn't have to worry about you.

"a devout follower of yours? i see," you say with a calm tone, but scaramouche doesn't fail to notice the way your gaze slightly darkens. he continues, "yes, isn't it great? the first step to the birth of my becoming of a God begins with her." scaramouche can hardly contain an evil cackle from slipping from his lips, but he'll save that for later.

your hands are behind your back as you fidget with your thumbs, "that's good, kuni. um, listen, i was wondering if-" you stop short when you notice the way he seems to be enraptured in his deep thoughts. probably thinking of haypasia again, huh? you look to the side and almost anyone would feel bad at the way you frown, "nevermind."

scaramouche smirks and he holds onto the rim of his hat, the trinkets clinking with each step he takes towards you. "what? do you have something to tell me?" he queries with a condescending tone, taking pride in the way you appear like a poor lamb being hunted as prey.

you shake your head, "no, it's nothing. you should get going, no time to waste on that plan of yours, right?" you shrug it off with your signature chuckle that you forced to release from your throat. scaramouche's lips curl upwards, "correct." and with that, he walks away, no greet goodbye, not a single word did he utter that acknowledged you were still his lover. his only.

lately, you noticed his visits with haypasia frequently taking up more and more of his schedule. he doesn't even hesitate to cancel out on dates he had previously planned with you and instead, wastes away at the day with a woman he just met. your insecurities begin to gnaw at you with each second that passes by.

it never leaves your mind how sometimes, scaramouche wouldn't even return for days and when he comes back, he claims it doesn't have anything to do with haypasia at all. but you do see him during your daily check-in at his office to see how he's doing. though, he seems to pay less attention to it recently. then you realize, this must all be because you showed the smallest indication of an illness.

you tuck your knees up to your chest and it looks like you're spending another day alone in bed without the presence of your lover, who's busy with his own things to do. or people to meet. the moonlight that peeks through the window's translucent curtains adorns your features. suddenly, you feel a dripping from your nose.

you touch it and look at your fingerpad to find a crimson red. you panic and get out of bed to wash up in the bathroom. blood continues to pour from your nose and your head begins to feel light. when you finish up, you make a discovery. mortal. you're a mortal. scaramouche surely doesn't seek that if he wants someone to be by his side forever.

time would take you sooner or later, and right now, your body wasn't in its best condition. tears grow at the corners of your eyes as you realize that you weren't even the one he was even looking for in the first place, because you're a mortal. your presence is temporary; no wonder he's been so off as of late.

scaramouche is exhausted. despite being a puppet, he felt his knees about to give way beneath him because of how hard he's been working lately. and the past few days, he noticed you hadn't visited him at his office so it added to his sour mood. scaramouche wonders whether he should continue to dangle countless summaries of what he and haypasia did, but he supposes you've learnt your lesson by now.

a small smile is atop his lips as he puts his things aside for the day. during his walk back to the house he shares with you, he replays your amusing reactions in his head whenever he told you about haypasia. you really are pathetic aren't you? well, all is fine. you're going to come running back to him no matter what so...

scaramouche ought to apologize as well. his behaviour was uncalled for, at least he'd agree to that. he wonders how you're doing physically too. that little incident of you passing out that began this whole ordeal still hasn't passed his mind just yet. scaramouche will check in on you when he gets home.

he arrives and peers into the rooms, searching for your whereabouts. scaramouche put his hat onto the dining room table and sighs. maybe you're out getting groceries. maybe you're visiting a friend and lost track of time. though he'd prefer the first option. scaramouche wanted nothing more than to get in bed with you after a long week of working and being separated from his lover.

his plan to become a God would be set into motion soon, and he wanted you by his side by that time. he figures he'd apologize now if he were to get back to work the next day, so he waits. scaramouche sits at one of the chairs at the dining table and waits for your arrival.

as he's only four minutes into waiting, he notices an envelope on the ground that must have fell from the table after he placed his hat on it. scaramouche picks it up and examines it before peeling it open. he takes out a paper with beautiful ink words across it, which he can come to recognize is your penmanship. hesitant at first, he reads nonetheless.

dear kunikuzushi,

i hope this letter finds you well. i, however, am not myself as of late. surely, you've noticed, but i've come to realize that you're meant for bigger things, kunikuzushi. i'm just a mortal who's living in your world and when all is said and done, time will reach me as well. at the moment, i'm recovering my state in liyue at bubu pharmacy, where a close friend will tend to me, so please, don't worry and focus on what it is you truly wish to achieve rather than allowing me to burden you. i hope everything will go well with your plan, along with haypasia. farewell, kunikuzushi.

yours truly, (y/n).

scaramouche has a blank expression when he finishes reading it. his thumb smoothes over the corner and it slightly crumples. "farewell?" he mumbles, eyes darkening. scaramouche rips the letter apart without another second of waiting. pieces of the page drift to the ground and he grits his teeth. "i'm not going to let you leave me."

had scaramouche known you were hurting that bad because of his antics of teasing you, he would've dropped the act immediately. his pride got the best of him and made yet another one of his loved ones leave him. but he'll have time to dwell on that later. his top priority right now, is getting you back.

he sets a course for liyue, not caring whether it'll interfere with his current plan of becoming a God. what use would it be without his lover by his side as you always were? it was originally his plan; to have you there the whole time, and to cut you off was out of the question.

"qiqi, would you indulge in helping me pick more herbs for our friend, (y/n), here?" baizhu asks with a smile as the little zombie looks up at him. she nods, "yes, baizhu. would (y/n) like to come along?" qiqi queries as she looks at you. baizhu places a hand on her shoulder, "it's alright, qiqi. they'll be needing their rest."

you smile, "thank you for asking, qiqi." qiqi nods again and waves, "qiqi and baizhu will be back... with (y/n)'s herbs." baizhu winks at qiqi and qiqi hums. that causes you to blink for a few moments. these two...

"we'll be off. anything you need, you can find in the cabinets over there," baizhu says before leaving with qiqi in tow. as they exit, your mind can't help but linger upon scaramouche. you wonder how his plan is going with haypasia. you sigh and shake your head. it was your fault to begin with, for not noticing the signs sooner, right?

you stand up and decide to take a walk for fresh air. you feel bad for not coming along to pick herbs with the sweet girl and your friend, but you want some time alone. but as soon as you leave the pharmacy, you meet a familiar fatui harbinger.

"scaramouche!" you say in surprise, your eyes wide as you look left and right. said man suddenly grabs you by the wrist and pulls you behind the building. "don't 'scaramouche' me," he seethes, eyes narrowing with anger. scaramouche roughly pushes you against the wall and keeps you there with just his menacing glare.

you fight back the urge to look away, but you can't bring yourself to do so when tears are helplessly flowing down his face. "why would you leave? actually, no, that doesn't matter," he murmurs, looking down to refrain you from seeing the way he cries. "can you come back? i-i promise i won't do anything like that again, so..."

scaramouche slowly lets go of your wrist to wipe at his tears. you solemnly say, "kunikuzushi." in a tender motion, you hold both his hands in yours and he looks up, eyes baring more tears to release. "it's not your fault," you say with the softest voice he's ever heard.

you lift one hand to cup his cheek, "it's okay. if my presence with you is what you truly wish for... i'll do it for you." you smile and scaramouche couldn't contain himself from holding you close and pressing his lips against yours. you clutch at his shoulder and your tears mix with his.

even if it isn't forever, he has you right now. so please, don't leave, as you're the only one he has.

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aqwnstars · 6 months

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Give me siren scara or bratty mermaid scara hc pls. I'm begging you. I'm on the floor. I'm bashing my head on the wall.

HEY POOKIE<33 TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!

- A.N- I haven't been writing lately because my schools getting harder and I recently got an F in an exam so i have to study so the alpha scara isn't coming out soon so sorry my lovelies :(( I try to do my requests first, and then any other fanfic i started doing, but since fanfics take me a week or so to write, this one.... will be written in a headcanon format.. I'm not that experienced with writing a hc format so any criticism is appreciated, in a later time i might make a whole fanfic<33 (FUUCKKCKKKS I FORGOT TO WRITE HIM AS A BRAT ONEOMFMKOAKXKSK)

uhhmmmm i keep noticing i always write scara pining over reader which im not sure if its TOTTALLLYY in character, but writing him pinininy is cute so stfu🙏🙏🙏

Siren Scaramouche x partially deaf gn reader

Word count: 686 (short one..)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None!!

Pronouns: You/Yours, reader can be any gender (meant to be gender neutral!!)

Loving waves

Siren! Scaramouche who was known in the underwater world as the most majestic siren out of all.

His voice was such a lulling song so much so that anyone who gave him their listening ear couldn't help but be entranced.

And how shocked he was when he met a person he couldn't lure in.

He began to only think about them, at first planning on how to kill them because he wouldn't let someone he choose to lure in and kill survive, due to his ego, but that began to turn into a genuine interest a few weeks later.

Without thinking about it, Scaramouche had spent hours just staring at you, he wouldn't say it's admiring of course.

It has become a routine at this point, you'd go work outside, maybe take a walk and he'd just stare at you, gazing longingly at your features from afar.

The way you two met would be as if it was straight out of a fairy tale, he'd get caught up in a fishing web, and you'd be his knight in shining armor!!

Him, being a siren, is seen as a terrifying being, a coldblooded murderer, but to you he was such a majestic being, if you were more naive you'd think he was a God (in which case, he wouldn't complain!!)

Everyday since you had saved him, you started to visit him. You brought little trinkets from your home, and he brought you a few shells. (sometimes that is, if you're lucky!!) Might I add, the shells he gifted you were like no other. They range in colors and shapes, not even the most avid collecters saw the shells he had given you.

He enjoyed spending time with you, more than he thought he would. He has gotten used to being alone, so a daily presence in his life was something unusual.

He'd let you touch his tail, his face turning pink as you compliment him. Your fingers on his tail, lightly caressing his scales. He couldn't help but look away as you admired him. If anyone else had requested to touch his tail, he'd plan a new song just for them, ...let's ignore the fact he offered to let you touch his tail, that's an unimportant detail.

One of the things he loved, ahem... liked most about you is the gentleness your eyes hold. He has gotten so used to the trashing waves of hatred in the mankinds eyes, but to see one's with calming flowing water? He could and would get lost in that body of water, no hesitation, of course he wouldn't tell you that though!

He wanted to listeh to you all day, anyone who said his voice was enchanting has never heard yours. Although you sometimes slur your words, stutter and at times get too loud, he loves that about you.

At times he wished you were a siren too, how beautiful would you look under the waters light he wonders. How would your tail sway in the oceans, rivers and seas?

One time, you asked him whether or not he can sing without indangering someone, he had never thought about that. Well of course he's not gonna risk losing his only love to find out, but that's a story for another day.

A few things I can definitely see him doing is;

Giving you his scales! He could tell how you always admired his tail, your eyes glowing at how his tail would practically shine under the Suns light. One night, he'd pluck a scale out, later in the say give it to you, saying: "It had accidentally fallen out, here. Don't think for a second I pulled it out for you." All while looking away, trying to look as non-chalant as possible while.. panicking inside over your reaction.

This might seem cruel, but he'd sing to insects, without the intention of killing them, to see if he can sing to you without putting you in danger.

He'd look around the seas floor for hours to find a shell that you'd like!! (.. you like everything he gives you so that's... pointless..)

AND THAT'S ALL I HAVE ON SIREN SCARA!!! :DD I HOPE I SATISFIED YOUR REQUEST POOKIE!!! (hope i did the hc format right..............

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche

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fuxuannie · 7 months

Text

❥﹒a special kind of love

✦. synopsis — a relationship with dan heng can be a little rocky, but for him? you'd be willing to go through a landslide.

✦. love mail — im alive (i say for the 4th time only to disappear without a trace.. again) but this is inspired by my experience w someone v special to me!! happy 1 month ♡

✦. tags — HSR SPOILERS. noot really? i mean spoilers for dh's identity, dan heng x gn reader, fluff, i havent written for hsr in 6 years (dramatic), not proofread, im sick

"YOU'RE KIDDING!?"

You nearly topple over the trinkets on your desk when you had slammed the table prior to your screaming.

Moments before such a reaction, you had called Dan Heng into your room to discuss a 'private matter', in which you had to talk to him personally with no distractions.

'Private matter' being your feelings, and how bottling them up was making you lose your mind - so to save yourself the slowburn suffering, you had to confess the aching sensation in your chest every time he passed by.

"I, uh.. I like you." Your voice is almost a murmur, staring down at your desk that you stood behind with Dan Heng infront of it.

There's silence, he tilts his head slightly. "Sorry?"

You're about to repeat yourself, already regretting your decisions until you hear him clear his throat.

Looking up, you notice a hue of red on his face as he looks almost as shy as you, a rare sight from the usually nonchalant Dan Heng. "You.. like me?" He repeats for clarity, watching you nod as silence once more fills the room.

"Well.. I like you too. I'm surprised you beat me to the confession."

"...YOU'RE KIDDING!?"

And that lead to the unexpected relationship between the trailblazers who almost never interacted within the publics gaze.

You'll admit the first few weeks were.. awkward. You two didn't have much dating experience, especially Dan Heng, but you see how he tried. He'd always text you if you guys were seperated, you notice how he's much more clingy when you're around, and how he's clearly more comfortable with you than anyone else.

But you'd often times get him 'just because' gifts and letters, told him he was the person you adored most, and constantly reminded him how perfect he is. However, most of the time - especially in public, it still felt like you guys were more or less friends than anything else.

And because of that, there was a bit of overthinking that clouded your mind for a while. You of course, acknowledged that Dan Heng was not at all required to immediately reciprocate affection in the way you do.. but you simply wanted to be reassured that he felt the same way about you.

So on a rainy night, with Dan Hengs arms wrapped around your own frame as the sound of raindrops hitting your window keep you up.. well, not to mention the racing thoughts of insecurities, that played a part too. You looked up at your boyfriend, who was fast asleep with his beautiful and peaceful expression, which made you feel bad for choosing tonight to communicate your feelings.

"Dan Heng?" You whisper, lightly rubbing his arm to wake him. His messy hair is everywhere, so you first wait as he moves it away from his eyes to get a good view of you even in the dark. "..Hm?" He replied sleepily.

"..Do you.." Hesitation was evident, clutching the back of his shirt. "..Ever think I'm not good enough for you?"

Silence.

"Cause-" You sniffled, unable to escape the lump in your throat as you began to share your feelings. "I know I'm not that amazing. I'm not energetic and bright as March, I'm not strong and independent like Stelle, and I'm certainly nothing like you.. I don't get it. Why me? Why me when you could have anyone else?"

You waited for a reply, but you weren't expecting much. You knew he wasn't a talker, and that is something you learned to accept, but you didn't know how to feel about the chances of him responding with "I'm not sure what to respond." or something along those lines.

"(name)," He chuckled, pulling you closer as your tears soaked his shirt. "You don't have to be them, not March, not Stelle, and certainly not me. I fell inlove with you because you're you, and you're more than I've ever wanted in someone."

You didn't know how to respond, you wanted to talk more, but the rears were getting uncontrollable and Dan Hengs firm and comforting arms around you weren't helping your emotional state. So you cried, and cried, and through it all - he was awake till you'd stop crying. It was then you realized how much you really mattered to him, more than you could fathom.

He placed several small kisses onto your forehead,

"I love you, more than you know."

#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng hsr x reader

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elusive---ivory · 1 year

Text

Yandere!Emo-Boyfriend x GN!Reader

These ideas keep coming to me like a plague of moths. I saw a fic today that had this same theme, and I wanted it to be longer. Whoever had this original idea gets all the credit, I just wanted to make my own thing, lmaooooooo. TW: manipulation, gore, gaslighting, emo things, mentions of bullying, and depression.

The Emo Boy in your class was a shy kid. He didn't want much to do with anyone. He felt quite reserved and isolated from the crowd. He'd do anything to fit in with the popular crowd. But, as he soon realized, he would never be like the other kids. He wore his hair down, with swoopy bangs.

Ezra was an emotional time bomb, with a fascination for gore and fantasy horror. Ever since he was a small boy, he deeply loved horror. He often wondered what killing someone and taking their blood would be like. His mind was often filled with dark things.

He could understand that people were put off by his morbid interests. One day, Ezra brought in a dead rabbit, hoping to get a reaction out of the popular people. He had bumped into you, accidentally throwing the dead rabbit on the ground.

"Woah, watch it!" Ezra snapped. He glared at you for a second, then his expression soften. He wasn't too interested in a lot of people, but as you smiled and picked up the dead rabbit.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your science project." You said, kindly.

"Uh, it's not for a science project. It's for a prank, dweeb." He quickly ran off. Ezra felt his heart palpitate. The feeling he had in his chest lingered throughout the day. He never had crushes, but maybe you were different. All the other people in the school hated him.

You were like his saving grace. Ezra was drawn near you. Unwillingly, he began to sit by you at lunch. Ezra would usually chug his monster, then wolf down most of his lunch before the bell rang, but today was different. He sat next to you and handed you a note.

Written in very fine handwriting that read,

'Will you go out with me?'

You were very flattered by the offer. After all, he was quite handsome. You walked up to him, pulling him into an embrace. Ezra was surprised. He expected the worst, but he pulled you close, resting his chin on top of your head.

You were wonderful to him. You watched all his favorite horror movies with him. You'd talk to him for hours about your day, and he was captivated by your little habits. You were like breathing to him. Ezra couldn't remember his life without you. Ezra would give you dead roses, and trinkets he'd find on the side of the road. You would give him your love in return. Ezra enjoyed your kisses. Whether it be on the mouth or cheek, he would be drunk off the taste of your lips.

His taste for dead things never subsided. Ezra would show you all the latest roadkill he'd find. Unlike most of your classmates, you encouraged this behavior. Collecting bones slowly became your hobby.

He became protective over you. People couldn't just walk up and talk to you. They needed to talk to Ezra first. He would shake anyone he didn't approve of away. Most of the time, Ezra's insecurities would manifest in unhealthy ways. Ezra wouldn't have a direct conversation about it. He prefers to suffer alone, even though you love him with all your heart.

When people get too close to you, his insecurity comes out. He's terrified of losing you, so anyone that shows little interest must be eliminated. You notice slowly your social circle starts to get smaller and smaller. Maybe you didn't need those people, but you were concerned when people you knew started showing up missing.

There was a boy in your math class that you were working with. Ezra must've caught you working with him. This sent him into a frenzy. Ezra was a very jealous man. No one else should be alone with you. Doesn't everyone know that you're in his bleeding heart?

Ezra stalked the boy. He followed him home and waited for the right time to strike. He killed him, disposing of his body in the pond. When you inquired about the red on his shoes the next day, he simply said, "Oh, darling, that's just from painting my car. You don't need to worry about it. I love you."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend x reader #yandere emo boyfriend x reader #yandere core #yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #lovesick

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admirxation · 3 months

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the perpetual chase | chapter two

links to other parts: part one | part three

pairing: las plagas!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab) AND Chris Redfield x fem!reader (afab).

disclaimer: this fic will deal with dark content, containing topics of abuse, manipulation, non-con and under the DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT category. this is also a piece of fiction and i do not condone everything i write. you’re responsible for the content you consume and if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, click off now.

specific chapter warnings: death, attempted suicide, mention of losing a baby, trauma, imprisonment, & mentions of postpartum depression.

word count: 4k

a/n: i’m sorry for taking forever, i had a 10,000 word uni project, but i’m free for a little bit to get some writing done. just a mention, if u want to be tagged in chapters just comment or message me (just a note if ur a blog that has no content, and is ageless i wont interact). also to note anything italicised is a flash back to a memory.

Chapter two: Cruel Consciousness

“I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N, I love you, and I would never hurt you if… if —”

“I know Leon, I know who you are, but… I don’t think the real you can survive now.”

“I know… That’s why I need you to kill me right now… Please, I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much!”

“I’m sorry, Leon. I wish it had happened differently.”

“We would have been happier… l love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sensation of searing pain ripped through, the deafening roar of gunfire, and the overwhelming rush of fear and adrenaline flooded the mind. Voices were barely whispers, attempts to sit up and continue survival were slim to nothing; the vision was blurry, surroundings darkening as if god pulled the night sky in front of the peripheral. Right then and there, the feeling of coldness and abandonment set in, clouding every inch of known existence; it was so cold, with no warmth or comfort, just stranded in a vein of mystery that would forever be kept locked up like a forgotten trinket that has nothing left for existence but to collect dust, and be apart of fond memories — and only memories. Haunting silence set the scene — at first — with the icy tendrils creeping through the veins, numbness. Until a blood-curdling scream was released into the unknown and dark atmosphere.

In cold sweat with tears brimming up in his eyes, Leon had awoken from an icy cold abandonment, realising his sudden reality, remembering the feeling of unknown silence for years — he was in a coma for years, unaware and lost in his atmosphere, but had finally came back the to the material world that he knew in life. He slowly picked his limb body up, watching in utter surprise and bewilderment as he stared at his pale hands, shocked at how the light was now surrounding them and not perpetual darkness; he watched as his chest lifted up and down and appreciated how he was finally breathing, pressing his hands to his heart — it felt like a miracle a god bestowed upon him. This newfound appreciation continued when his hands travelled from his heart to his fingers pressing against his forehead damp with sweat; he couldn’t believe how his mind was clear now; there was no intrusion, no splitting of discomfort as two entities tried to squeeze into one consciousness, his mind and every physical manifestation belonged to him and only him now, feeling like there was no longer a parasite that manipulated every aspect.

That was when he remembered everything. He had constantly dreamed about you while in a coma; those final moments that resulted in his death were on replay in his mind, but when sympathy was granted to him, he would remember the sweet moments when it was an innocent crush next door. That moment in Spain was something he found comfort in consciously delving into. He sat there for a moment and remembered when he saved Ashley.

On his escape from that dreaded Island, he reminisced about how she had asked him to stay, with prominent hints. Still, he denied telling her, “I got to go see a girl back home,” while there was a tinge of disappointment in her voice, she didn’t dwell on it; she was happy and wished him well with the lucky girl; he was going to confess his feelings to you when he took Ashley back home and gotten his thank yous from the president. He had it all planned, the romantic gesture of flowers, telling you how he always looked forward to when you came knocking on his door with your cooking — he loved how caring you were for him. But after he had safely returned Ashley and gotten his thank you, he was dismissed to go back home, and that was when his reality had shifted.

He was coughing up blood, feeling weak as he tried to walk back to the car to be escorted home; he felt like it was nothing, at first, feeling like it was just exhaustion from the trip, which often happened with needing rest and to let his body fully recover from the pain and strain it went through. He ignored it at first, and it rested while he was being escorted back; he was returned home later in the night, and as the driver waved him off, he looked up to your window, noticing your silhouette move toward the curtains, smiling to himself that he knew you were still going to be up at the late hour. As he pulled his key… That was when it happened. An uncontrollable shock coursed through his body, feeling his muscles tense up and jaw clenching down as he grinned his teeth in pain, his fingers tensed up into balls of fists and collapsed on the ground as well as the bouquet he had just for you. This pain was familiar. Las Plagas. He watched his veins darkening, his body shiver in the darkness.

“I thought I was cured,” he whispered to himself, “no, no, I was cured; Ashley put me in Luis’... AH!” he tried to remain quiet, but the pain was now taking over and manipulating his autonomy.

He rushed into the darkness as people looked outside their windows in curiosity and worry, but Leon’s figure was nowhere to be found as he ran into the shadows. He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he tried to keep quiet, trying to accept his fate, as he pulled his gun from his trouser pockets and wished it ended right there not to cause harm as he saw back in that little village — all those innocent people who had lives, history, not lost from the parasite and resting in death.

“It’s not that hard; just do it,” he told himself as his shaking hand tried to pull the trigger, “you know how to shoot a gun. It’s not impossible. Don’t be a coward. Do the right thing.”

But he couldn’t do it.

The gun jammed when his finger finally pulled it back, feeling the metal shake against his head.

After that was when the parasite took over him, but unlike the people in Spain, it manifested alongside the consciousness and personality of Leon but still overpowered him—resulting in the pain and trauma caused to you. As he remembered everything that happened that night, everything he did to you, the pain he caused and how he dehumanised and objectified you — he was ashamed of himself. He remembered how he tricked you into falling in love with him, into relying on him through his abusive and manipulative behaviour; that was not who Leon was. He knew he was better than that, and he wanted to make it right with his new chance of life. Leon tried to move from the bed he was on, but his legs were unresponsive.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he pressed his fingers onto his legs. He could feel his fingers prodding his skin, giving him some relief that they weren’t paralysed; he needed to wait until they ‘woke up’ and allowed him to move about freely.

His body was almost… delayed; only his upper body was mobile and able to move freely, but he couldn’t just sit there and let this haunting memory eat at his conscience with guilt. He used his upper body strength to pull himself from the bed, a thud on the hard ground as he tried to move with determination, his lower body holding him back and having to drag himself like a pathetic creature. The room he was in was unfamiliar; he recognised it as an ordinary hospital room, but as he went to the door and tried to pull the door handle, a voice surrounded the room.

“I admire your determination, Leon, but you’re not getting out of here.”

That voice. That voice was familiar.

“Chris?” Leon was more confused than ever. His appreciation for a second chance at life was slowly short-lived as he lived in another nightmare. “Why am I being trapped here? Answer me!” Leon felt his anger making his face warm, desperately clawing at the door and screaming for release.

“You won’t be getting out any time soon, Leon. You’re not safe from the outside world.” Chris felt pained to tell his friend that he had to be a prisoner in this lifeless room that gave him no joy.

“Not safe! Not safe! I’m cured; that part of my mind is silenced. Why else am I in this room?”

“You’re cured… Temporally,” Chris sighed. " We’ve managed to make a supplement to keep giving you. Our team quickly made it, but a cure is still far from us.”

His heart sank. His desperation had halted and was replaced with a numbness. He thought he was finally cured, but this bliss was temporary; he needed to rely on a needle inside of him to be sane and to keep the monster within him taking everything; life was so fragile; he was so vulnerable, and this kept circulating in his mind.

Leon had pressed his back on the cold wall, tilting his head with closed eyes to process information nobody should have to deal with. ‘It isn’t fair,’ he kept thinking. It felt like a force just loved to torment him for his whole life. From his family being cruelly taken from him, Raccoon City, Spain and now this, was this all a cruel joke to a higher power? He thought to himself.

Right there — as Leon paused to be lost in a sea of thoughts — that wall opposite him had a flicker of uncertainty that danced across the seemingly bland and grey wall; Leon watched as it materialised into pixels, then watched as his attention focused further to see the wall turn into a screen. To his astonishment, it revealed Chris’ face, which he hadn’t seen in so long. It was too much to process; he could not find the words and did not know what to say as he froze. Alongside Chris, he saw strangers in the background with screens of research in front of him; he noticed a flicker of files that he had accumulated back in Spain and even saw a picture of the face of Luis in his laboratory jacket with his team when he was working for Umbrella — his heart still hurt for the man.

“What… What’s all that?” Leon managed to string some sentences together, but his voice trembled with disbelief as his hand pointed to everything behind Chris.

“It’s… complicated,” Chris replied, his gaze flickering to the monitors behind him where charts and graphs danced in a mesmerising data display. Chris’ heart pounded in his chest as he spoke to Leon; he knew he would wake up at some point but didn’t know today would be that day, especially just after he confessed his feelings for you — almost like the universe was telling him something. He took a deep breath before he continued dialogue, “It’s research for a cure… It’s still far away from us, but —” he was cut off.

“You have the files from Luis’ research; shouldn’t that be good enough? He gave me the suppressant before; isn’t that enough of a lead?!”

“It’s been a good lead, but your… situation is more complicated.” This was more bad news that Leon dreaded hearing: “With this disease… You were supposed to turn into what you encountered back in Spain, but it seems like it… evolved into something different.”

“Are you trying to say I’ve turned into some evolved creature?”

Chris laughed as he tried to turn to humour in this moment, “If you want to think of it that way, then be my guest. But the good side is that you won’t be like what you saw back in Spain. We have enough suppressants for you to remain, but until we find a cure, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What about Ashley? She was infected, too.”

“She was cured. It stayed the pure strain so she could be cured back in Spain; you were just unlucky… But try and keep some positivity; you’ll stay alive, and a cure is possible.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the steady noise of typing by the strangers. Leon’s mind was whirling with trauma and neverending questions, with fears too vast to name or even get into. But amidst the chaos, one thing arose into Leon’s mind.

“Can I see her?” Leon’s voice was barely audible above the hum of machines, “Can I see Y/N? I want to… set things right.”

Chris’ expression softened, but Leon’s eyes filled with sadness as he begged and begged, “Please, Chris. I’m behind a wall, and I just want to tell her everything I want to. Please, while I have a sound mind.”

“As… As much as I would say that’s a good idea. She’s… um. She’s gone.”

The words hit Leon like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. Images flashed before his eyes — your smile, your laughter, the warmth of your touch. And now, all that remained was emptiness, a void that threatened to consume him whole. Guilt ate at him as he tried to agree that he couldn’t make it right. He knew he couldn’t turn back the clock and stop all the damage he caused, but he wanted to start with recognition and apologise for everything he did, even if it wasn’t his fault.

“I-I don’t believe you,” a lump in his throat hindered the audibility of his voice, “I-I’ll never get to, n-never get to,” he paused for a moment again, “Did the baby make it?”

Chris momentarily thought, “She lost it while we took her out of your… You know. I’m so sorry, Leon.”

Behind Chris, the scientists exchanged uneasy glances. One of the women tried to hold a steady position as she teared up, hearing his brokenness and the transparent lies Chris was telling him. Everyone in the room could understand, but they also saw the person behind whom they were researching and were told to be cautious. But Chris remained unchanged.

“I have to go now, Leon, but me and Jill will check up on you… We’re here to help.”

Leon nodded; he didn’t want to fight and even wanted to be left alone.

Leon felt at ease as the screen materialised back to the blank wall. He knew people were watching him, but being unable to see a range of faces made him feel alone with his thoughts. All his thoughts were just glimpses and flashes of picturing you, imagining everything he wanted to say to you, and trying to understand that you were gone. ‘I wish I were the one that remained dead,' he thought.

As Chris walked out, he bent over to the team leader. “Don’t tell him the truth,” he murmured in a low and urgent tone. “Keep up the illusion.”

That charade would continue, a fragile facade of woven lies. Leon had to deal with a reality that was just an illusion to keep up appearances. There was now a quiet stillness as Chris left the room, finding his footing to return to the area you and Mason were in. On his way, he noticed Jill standing outside, waiting for another conversation with Chris. She waved him to beckon him over, and of course, he wouldn’t ignore her — even though he wanted to after the not-too-long-ago encounter that still left a bad taste in his mouth. He stepped outside, taking in some much-needed fresh air, waiting for Jill to guide the conversation; she was eager to get her words out.

“I’m hoping you told Leon the lie we agreed on,” she raised an eyebrow, greeted by Chris nodding in agreement.

“I know why we’re not letting him out… We must find a cure before we even consider placing him somewhere. But why did we have to lie to his face about Y/N? Wouldn’t it have been better to say she didn’t want to see him?”

“If he were his normal self, he would have taken that.”

“But he is his normal self; we have a suppressant, and we have managed to keep giving him that.”

“I know, I know. But we don’t know too much about his condition. Luis’ research is limited to a single strain. I doubt we can just go to Umbrella for information,” she took a deep breath and noticed her voice raising in volume gradually, “Let’s say this strain becomes something else; it’s already evolved into another strain; it could get more serious. I would rather him think Y/N is dead so he doesn’t go after her or Mason. I’m not having her be taken away from me again… And I doubt you want that after your little moment with her.”

“Are you still mad that she and I have something?”

“No, I’m so happy I’m practically planning the wedding… What do you think, Chris?” sarcasm at its finest.

Chris sighed deeply at Jill’s stubbornness, “I’m all for protecting her, and I admire how far you’ve gone to protect her, but wouldn’t you rather that she be with someone you know? You know I’m not an awful person,” Jill wanted to open her mouth for a witty remark, “Ah, no comment from you. But back to the point, you know I won’t hurt her, and you’re round, and she’s near you for as long as possible in this quarantine zone if you suspect I’m doing her harm… Which I won’t… You’re there.”

Jill’s hardened exterior softened with the voice of reason: " I didn’t think I would say this, but you’re right, Chris. I just have to get used to it, but I swear if you hurt her, I will do way worse and won’t keep you alive like I am with Leon.”

Chris nodded in acceptance.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You sat alone in a dimly lit room, your only company with the shadows and the ambient noises across the walls, hearing the occasional footsteps outside your living quarters and the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence as you stared at the blank wall, with a still expression. Chris was beside you, and you felt his warm breath and the scratch of his facial hair on your arm; it was strange to have him sleeping soundly beside you. You had spoken to Jill with Chris while Mason was getting his lessons, and there was no point in keeping the secret up. At the same time, it did take away a specific aspect of fun; it was a lot less stressful to keep it from her. All you were doing now was waiting a little longer before Mason knew about it — but that was no worry since Chris was a father figure for him while you were raising him.

Alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but drift back to the memories of Leon. You were getting tired of this same routine of having a romantic connection with Chris and then looking back, but you also were patient with yourself, knowing you weren’t going to get over this; no matter how many years passed, it would only be a little easier to cope with but never get over. These memories would invade your memory like an unwelcome ghost haunting and tormenting, stirring up a tumultuous mix of emotions within you. The guilt gnawed at you as you felt like a prisoner even with Leon in the grave, feeling like a fool with the clutches of Stockholm syndrome keeping you and making it unable to break free.

However, as you sat there — lost in your memories and thoughts — another thought started to take the forefront: your conversation with Jill a year after your rescue.

You remembered that night; it was a year from your rescue, and within that year, you thought about so much. The year started with the early days of raising Mason; oh, how much of a darling he was when he was tiny. Before you had given birth to him, you were so excited every time you looked at the ultrasound, your heart skipping a beat every time you thought about how close it was until you could finally touch him, skin to skin, and introduce him to the world. When you saw that face, tears of joy rolled down as you looked at the life you brought into the world; you didn’t care how much he looked like Leon — at that moment — all you cared about was the relief you felt when knowing he was healthy and didn’t have a strain of infection in his veins, you had the privilege of having a beautiful and healthy baby.

But as the months went on, it was getting hard to cope with life after pregnancy; Mason was no trouble, not fussy, and was quite an easy baby; you even had Chris and Jill help to look after him, so you had nothing to complain about. But you remembered how fatigued your eyes were; every day felt like a struggle to continue. You remembered how your body weighted you down and your spirits corrupted with the weight of postpartum. The medical staff were dismissive at first, but after seeing your condition, they began to take a look at it more; it was only more accessible with people by your side. You felt like you were drowning, then suffocating beneath the waves of sadness and emptiness that threatened to consume your every waking moment. But while you were in your solitude, you had time to think, to deeply remember and process what had happened to you, and think deeply about Leon. That was when you built up the courage to ask Jill everything your mind wouldn’t silence itself about.

Your memories echoed that picture as you remembered how you sat across from Jill, your fingers nervously tapping against the tabletop, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling that something wasn’t right for a long time; your mind had delved into a strain that had a gut feeling that there was more to the story that Jill let on. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation you couldn’t sit in silence about anymore.

“Jill,” you began hesitantly, “I need to ask you something.” You had her full attention, and she smiled before she knew exactly what you wanted to discuss. “I have to ask you about Leon.”

Jill’s eye flickered. You didn’t know this then, but her mind was racing to string together words to maintain an appearance, an illusion. She deeply breathed, “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated; your mind raced with the words and everything you wanted to ask, “I… Did… Did Leon actually… die?” Jill looked at you with false confusion.

“Of course he did… Don’t you remember you pulled the trigger, Y/N,”

“What did you do with this body?”

“Excuse me?”

“I killed him… okay… but you wouldn’t have just left his corpse there. You wanted to keep this secret from the general public, or so I’m told, so you wouldn’t have let it stay there for anybody to come across,” Jill was panicking; you didn’t know since she managed to keep a calm composure, but she wasn’t expecting these questions and thoughts from you.

“Well, we didn’t tell you this, but we got some other people to collect him, and we were taken; we don’t know where, but he is dead and was taken care of… I’m sorry.”

You had a gut feeling that she was lying; Jill’s voice had sowed seeds of doubt, and the root of uncertainty grew with each passing moment. You couldn’t keep a straight mind after that and kept thinking, but raising Mason and the constant medical checks was a good distraction.

You continued to stare at the blank wall, with that moment replaying. To this day, you still feel like there is more to the story, like everyone is caught up with the truth, and you kept in the dark. You didn’t want to ignore your gut feeling. Still, for the years you called this place home, you were given no evidence to have doubt but just your ideas from decoding Jill’s demeanour, body language, and how she avoided your gaze in conversations about Leon and what had happened years ago.

But another bit of curiosity crept upon you—the restricted area. You were told that there were just experiments and research on the bioweapons from Umbrella; Jill showed you pictures of the enemies she and Chris encountered, but you thought about how Leon would be a good suspect for experimentation after you learned about where he had gotten infected.

‘What if he’s there?’ you thought.

my links: masterlist | ao3 | kofi

taglist: @cassiecasluciluce @itzkawaiix @pastel-skies-and-doves @argreion

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fatuismooches · 9 months

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Helloo Smooches!!

I had an idea about mixing in two ideas - childhood friend + fragile!reader with Pantalone (let's not let Dottore steal all the spotlight)

Basically, bc of living in poverty reader is very weak and Pantalone concludes you'll be dead any day soon. But despite everything Reader keeps pushing through and he's intrigued. Not only you somehow keep living, you're so nice and try to help others around you any way you can, including Pantalone. I think after becoming friends he advices you to care more about yourself, seeing your frail condition

At one point your condition becomes worse and you need medicine which is already expensive, but for you? You can only get it if you work 24/7, but you physically can't. However, miraculously, you get that medicine. After some time you learn that it was Pantalone who worked all day and night for you and reader can't thank him enough. You may learn he didn't eat for a few days and worked in ungodly conditions just to save you. Reader feels very guilty about all of this, but Pantalone reassures them that it's better than you dying. And it's so strange, even for Panta himself. Like, there are tons of kids who are in the same condition as you or even worse, then why he's so keen to save you?

The rest is history. You two become inseparable, helping each other get through life (no one of you mentions it, but Pantalone works harder and more than you, due to your illness).

When he becomes the Regrator, you're still together. But now he can properly take care of both of you, since you were damaged pretty badly by your childhood. But if Pantalone's immune system got very strong and he only really has bad eyesight, then you... It's not a pretty scene, but he can keep you in stable state thanks to all the expensive doctors, medicine and anything you need for your comfort. I also feel both of you get flashbacks and nightmares about past, so both of you are here to comfort each other

However, if you did die before seeing Regrator in all his glory... He's devastated. He makes sure your grave stays in top-notch condition. Pantalone is grateful for the time you were with him, when Reader became a little ray on sunshine in his dark life, but won't deny he wants you back. However, even endless wealth can't bring reader back. But at least now Pantalone knows for sure he won't lose anything close to him due to lack of mora ever again

-🥀, who went insane

DOTTORE STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT IS SOOO TRUE IM SO SORRY 😭😭💀 and UGHHH THIS IS FEEDING MY PANTALONE BRAINROT SO GOOD, 🥀 ANON ILY ❤️❤️❤️

Pantalone just not caring about you in the beginning is unfortunately true at first 😭 He is well aware that it is a dog-eat-dog world out there, especially in the environment where you two are. Everyone is out for themselves, no one will look out for each other lest they get stabbed in the back eventually. The young boy has seen more death and suffering than a child of his age should, and he thinks that soon, you will become one of them... but you don't. And despite your ailing condition you still find it in you to help others and the younger kids... he thinks you are simultaneously the strangest, kindest, and dumbest person he's ever met. How could you be so kind in a world like this? You've surely seen the same things he has... you should be putting yourself first, you're squandering what life and health you have left on random people!

He just doesn't understand... he doesn't seek to figure you out first, but you are the only kid his age around these parts, and you do always try to hang around him... so he relents. He becomes your friend. And he... comes to like you. To care for you. The boy has never felt that to someone else before. It makes him act different around you. To go to certain extents he would never dream of doing for anyone but himself. To get little trinkets for you, that really aren't worth anything at all, but he likes how they make you smile. To share bits of his meager rations with you, to which you always giggle and ask if you could feed him. It's strange, even stranger when he goes beyond that. Did your medicine deal a significant blow to his savings? Yes. Did he care? No. Seeing you smiling seemed to satisfy some hole in his chest that has been empty since birth. Pantalone can't help but want you to stay by his side. And you do too.

Ugh yes he would treat you higher than royalty like you deserve after how much you suffered with him for all of those years. I imagine he would be so overprotective and concerned for you, if you had even the most minor health scare he would be more worried than YOU. Regardless you bet he will fulfill every single wish you had since childhood, nothing is off the table, Pantalone WILL make it happy. Yup I imagine Pantalone sometimes has nightmares about losing everything he built his way up to and going back to the poor boy alone on the streets... and you have your own trauma from your condition so just :( lots of nighttime cuddles and soft back rubs

🥀 ANON YOU JUST HAD TO END IT WITH ANGST... To say he would be crushed is an understatement. Part of his motivation and reason to ascend to the top was to be able to give you the life you deserve - a comforting, peaceful, and rich one. But you were gone... he was so, so close to saving you. He still loves you so much. And although he has the Mora to never lose anything close to him again... will there really be anything like that for him ever again after he lost you?

#smooches talks #🥀 anon #fragile reader <3 #pantalone love notes <3 #i have been brainrotting over pantalone's real name lately 😭#GODDDD I WANT TO KNOW SO BAD #the amount of fluff id pull if I knew his real name #wooo i think i wrote alot but pantalone + childhood friend is truly something i adore

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streetslost · 1 year

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finding this old "promo" was like getting punched in the face lmao

#you know it's old because it mentions rune too #back when cat collected little homeless kids #&&. save ( little trinkets to never lose )#not posting this to actually be a promo just to put in my saves tag for a chuckle one day #large image //

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phoenix-before-the-flame · 2 months

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i'm having a month. if you have the time, could i bother you for some gray headcanons? thank you in advance <3

One Serving of Fullbuster Headcanons comin right up boss

Doesn't seem much like it but he is a bit of a jewellery guy. He almost never takes off his necklace or bracelet and he has a bunch of different chains to clip onto his pants. He might toss on a ring or 2 if he's feeling extra fancy that day and his ears are pierced but only at the top, so when he wears a pair absolutely no one can tell unless he brushes his hair back.

Not necessarily one for gossip, he just happens to be friends with people who love to gossip (Cana, Loke, Lucy) so he always just seems to know things even if he doesn't particularly care to know.

His wardrobe consists of a lotta plain looking clothing. Basic t-shirts and jeans that he pairs with jackets. It's largely due to the fact that he keeps losing clothes so its cheaper to just buy a bunch of plain tees and junk in bulk to save him the stress of tryna replace nicer clothes down the line.

His shoes though? That's a completely different story. He will spend on shoes like his life depends on it. He's always dripped out his fuckin mind when it comes onto shoes. He's the guy with the uncreased Js, the perfect Tims, the spotless boots. He's the freak with a huge wall of boots and sneakers that he sits down and cleans with a toothbrush.

Has an almost perfect photographic memory which is great for when he needs to make replicas of items for missions or ice replicas or himself or others.

Used to smoke a fair bit but quit as time went on. He'll still pop a cigarette every now and then when he's particularly stressed though.

Outside of the team missions he gets reached out to a lot to do ice sculptures for fancy events and such. Even though the people are way too snooty for his taste sometimes (or they keep tryna flirt with him, someone save him please) its good money and he loves to be able to flex his art skills when he can't normally on faster paced jobs.

Fucking loves junk food. The greasier and messier the better. He cooks most of his own meals but he absolutely will not pass up the opportunity for something that could probably clog his heart.

Probably spoils Wendy the most out of everyone. He always goes out of his way to do a special lil treat for her (make little ice trinkets for eg.) or get something for her when he's out and about.

Fluent in both fioran and the main language in Iceburg but still has that lil brain stall when he can't remember a word despite living in fiore for the majority of his life at this point.

#fairy tail #fairy tail headcanon #gray fullbuster #fairy tail gray #ft gray #i actually ddidnt mean to post this on white boi wednesday lol #thats a complete coincidence #anyways man hope the month goes better for ya 👍👍👍👍

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prodigal-explorer · 2 months

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familial beauty and the beast au

so it's called familial because remus and roman are in the places of belle and the beast.

but basically, roman and remus are twins who were separated as young children due to a falling out between their parents, logan and patton. logan disagreed with how patton was using his power as a ruler, and so he took remus and ran away without a word after being unable to convince his husband to change. logan is a very skilled mechanic/engineer, but he is seen as the town nutjob because ironically he is so much smarter than them, that they think he's talking nonsense. remus follows into logan's footsteps as he grows older, but he ends up embracing his "nuttiness", becoming someone who makes little trinkets and machines regularly.

but let's go back to patton and roman, the ones who are left in the kingdom. patton is enraged when he finds out that logan left and stole remus, and he's also terrified that he'll lose roman too, the only family he has left. so he locks up roman in the palace, spoiling him rotten and isolating him from the world so that roman never wants to leave him. but since patton is roman's only role model, and he is not a particularly good one, roman becomes a terror of a person. rude and nasty and spoiled, always needing to get his way, immature, childish, and ignorant.

one day, roman runs away because he wants to see the world. but he runs into a witch. not particularly knowing any better, roman treats her extremely rudely. she retaliates by placing a curse on him, and patton soon finds roman passed out in the woods. and he looks like a MONSTER. the rose is sitting next to him, with a note: "if the prince does not destroy what poisons his heart before the last petal falls, he will stay infected forever."

but when roman wakes up, and he sees patton, he goes wild. he freaks out. he blames patton for not teaching him anything about the world. he's a terrified teenager whose life was ruined, and he doesn't understand why. he attacks patton, and patton, believing that roman is too monsterous, a failure, beyond saving, runs. and he abandons roman.

roman retreats to the castle, and when he finds that he's all alone, he starts to loathe himself. he doesn't know what poisons his heart. he doesn't know how to destroy it. so he's horrible to his servants who stay. he's too scared to leave the castle ever again, because he doesn't want to be cursed again, or loathed as an ugly beast.

but patton isn't finished. he realizes that as long as roman is running around free, he's a danger to the village, and to the rest of his living, though estranged, family. so he approaches the witch and tells her to cast a spell on the castle, to trap roman and the servants inside it. reluctantly, she agrees. anybody can come into the castle, but nobody can come out. not until somebody joins hands with roman and walks out with him. but roman cannot leave alone. so patton and the witch are convinced that roman is trapped forever, or at least, at their mercy.

what happens when remus decides to go into the forest to find a plant that he desperately needs when logan falls dangerously ill, and he sees the castle, realizes it looks familiar, and starts to explore? before he realizes that though he walked in with no trouble, he's unable to leave.

and standing right across from him, is the most hideous, horrifying beast he has ever seen. but instead of being afraid of the beast, remus pauses and realizes something: the *beast* is terrified of *him.*

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fandom #tss #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #prodigal tss #sanders sides au #tss au

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firstdivisiongirl · 1 year

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Wait, We Have a Talking Cat?!? (Shanks x Fem Reader)

@kazenomegaminowanpisu ask for shanks x fem reader and that fem reader adopts a magical cat. I got my inspiration for my sassy magical cat from Salem from Sabrina the Teenage Witch. I wanted a really sassy cat and Salem was the sassiest! Well, I hope you like it and thanks for the request my friend!

Being the only girl on the Red Force could be lonely. Yes, you were with Shanks. He was the best boyfriend ever, but you know what they say. Boys will be boys. And boy, did those boys live by that phrase. “Hey Shanks,” you asked one night while laying with him in bed, “can I get a cat?”

He looked over at you puzzled. “I mean sure Y/N but why?”

You sighed, “I used to have a cat as a kid named Bingo and I loved that cat. I think it would be fun, plus I’m the only girl so I’d be nice to have a companion that isn’t a grown man.”

Shanks looked at you. His gray eyes looked into your (e/c) ones. He caressed his lovely girlfriend’s right cheek with his hand. “Then on the next island you can go adopt a cat. I’ll tell the boys now. It’ll be like we have Uta back!”

“Are you comparing your own daughter to a cat? Why?”

“Both can be adorable but will rip your head off when angry.”

“Oh god,” you laughed while rolling your eyes.

***

When you reached the next island, you headed straight for the shops, while Shanks and the rest of the crew headed to the bars. You saw one little pet shop called “Ms. Crystal’s Pets and Magical Goods”. You walked inside and it was not like any shop you had ever seen. The walls were a dark maroon shade while all the lighting was fairy lights or pendants that looked like stars or moons. The shelves were lined with not only pet toys and pet food, but also small little trinkets. You approached the old orniet oak counter where a sweet looking old woman stood. “Hello dear,” she said with a smile, “what can I help you with?”

You smiled back, “I’m looking for a cat. Do you have any?”

“Of course. And I know just the right one for you.”

She disappeared into the back, while you awaited your new little furry friend.

***

“So he lost his arm saving my namesake,” your cat Luffy asked you. The sweet old lady at the pet store told you that this cat was special, it had magical powers. Besides talking, he could also create objects out of thin air, which came in handy when you ram out of important materials and supplies on the ship. Everyone knew about Luffy’s powers on the ship, everyone except Shanks. All the other boys found out when Luffy accidentally started talking to them about giving him a pet. Benn Beckham’s came when he asked him what Benn was short for: Benjamin, Bennet, Benedict, Bennifer. Luffy talked in front of Shanks, but he was drunk and thought he was seeing things.

“He did lose it saving Luffy,” you replied, “Luffy is a devil fruit user and was drowning so Shanks went in and saved him, but a Sea King ate Shanks’ arm.”

“So my name sake is an idiot?”

“No, he was seven and was thrown into the water.”

Luffy laughed. He was definitely a sassy cat, but you were just as sassy. “Well, I’m hungry, so I’m getting a snack. Do you want anything? Tuna? Maybe a devil fruit like the other Luffy? Then you can go for a swim.”

“I’d love one…wait, are you trying to kill me? Never mind you can’t live without me,” the black cat said, putting emphasis on me.

“Tuna it is then.” you laughed walking out of the room to the kitchen.

A few moments later someone walked into yours and Shanks’ room. Luffy spoke up, “I hope you brought me the nice tuna from the blue can, and not that garbage kind in the red one.”

There was no answer. Luffy looked up and noticed a surprised Shanks, grey eyes wide open.

“Oh crap,” the black cat said with his emerald green eyes wide in shock.

When you return from the kitchen you notice your main man and your magical cat staring at each other.

“When were you going to tell me our cat talked? Does the rest of the crew know?” Shanks asked, grabbing your shoulders, staring at you in complete disbelief.

“All the boys know. Luffy’s talked to you a lot, but you’ve been really drunk,” you laughed.

“I was also the one who created that necklace you bought Y/N for her birthday,” Luffy interrupted. Shanks stared at the cat and then at you.

“He creates objects too! Oh my god I love this cat. What else can you do Luffy?”

“That’s about it but don’t ask me to make you a new arm. I like you, but I tried that once with my old owner. Now she has an extra leg.”

“Awesome.”

“You’re not mad about the cat?” you asked. You were scared that he would want you to get rid of the cat since you never told him.

He smashes his lips into yours. “Of course not. Even if Luffy wasn’t a cool magical cat and instead hated me, I’d let you keep him.”

You kissed him on the cheek and said, “I love you Shanks! If you excuse me, I’m going to go get water.”

“Love you too,” he answered back.

He sat with Luffy for a few seconds in silence until his new favorite feline asked, “So Beckham, does Benn stand for Benjamin or Bennifer?”

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

#one piece #trafalgar d nami #red haired shanks #requests #magical cat #shanks x reader #Kitty D Luffy

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yerrenica · 4 months

Text

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | to call a dog back home

⬦ info; pwp, the p is set up for the p?!?!, enemies to lovers speedrun, size kink, hookups, snow storms, dom/sub, associates with benefits?, fucking for warmth, petplay, vaginal sex, topping from the bottom, under-negotiated kink, voyeurism, handjobs.

⬦ wc; 6.8k

The only thing predictable about Jaha's life is its unpredictability, and it is this precise lack of predictability which has placed Jaha in this particular predicament.

Tell Mongrang to say that three times fast.

Everyone shivers as an angry gust of frigid air blows through their squad. That's something about the wind during this time of year, especially this far out, it blows right through you, cold and cruel like icy knives cutting into your very soul. Jaha had missed the snow during summer, but now he's not so sure. It's midday but the sun is already threatening to set, making it even colder. This far into the snow fields, death could come for anyone at any moment.

Jaha had tasked himself with leading a team through the dregs of the country's badlands to retrieve something that should've never gotten this far in the first place. What sort of old coot decided to hide his most treasured sword in such a place was beyond him, and honestly, forming a grudge against him didn't seem too far-fetched at the moment.

To think that the geezer also did it while on his deathbed was absurd to Jaha. If you're going to die, then spend your last moments in comfort and warmth and save future generations the trips to icy wastelands.

But alas, what's done is done.

"Alright, it's official, we're lost," said one of their team members, Bitgaram, when they passed the fourth identical snow drift in a row, shaking snow from his hat. Fractured snowflakes collected on his hair and he futilely attempted to brush them away.

"Bitgaram, do you have anything useful to share or are you interested in losing your tongue today?" A raspy, cruel voice floated from somewhere behind Jaha and — ah, and there's the other thing. He's not the only one going after the treasure.

Usually, Jaha wouldn't mind too much (more carnage), even though he doesn't really get along with most other sword masters. But there is a particular brand of animosity between the two of them that Jaha finds a bit exciting, but also exhausting. They don't get along and neither plan to rectify that any time soon.

[Y/N] has spent their entire 3-day freezing expedition insulting him just to make sure of that fact.

"Apologies, miss [Y/N]," Bitgaram seemed a bit nonplussed, a short stocky kind of man with a wiry moustache, he is one of [Y/N]'s because anyone under anyone else would surely piss themselves. The woman's soldiers held a healthy dose of fear for her, but throughout this outing, Jaha has come to understand that they also have a bit of a suicidal streak. You can only be threatened with bodily harm and mortal peril by your commanding officer so many times before you just stop giving a shit.

The fight itself had been pretty simple, just a group of unlucky swordsmen that'd gotten a little too cocky and refused to hand over the treasure. Jaha had retrieved the sword with some other trinkets from the big box of treasures, and [Y/N] had, well– massacred them.

She'd made quick work of the swordsmen, pushing furious waves of power through the snow.

Their own ranks were fine. Jaha's brothers had taken position above the field, hidden in the tree branches. Jaha's own skills kept him safe and all of [Y/N]'s soldiers were issued rubber soles after an unfortunate mass casualty incident.

The swordsmen, on the other hand, weren't so lucky.

Embarrassingly enough, the woman's shit personality and proclivity for violence was kind of doing it for Jaha, it always has. He supposes that this was a natural progression of his thoughts.

Earlier when they had surveyed the battlefield post-fight, the one [Y/N] had littered with mangled corpses, Jaha would be remiss if he didn't admit that it sparked something hot and heady in the pit of his stomach.

He pushes those thoughts from his mind, letting the icy wind take them away. Well, he makes his best attempt to. He's probably just getting brain damage from the cold. There cannot possibly be another reason that he doesn't want to wring her neck.

To be fair, he's always been a bit intrigued by her, sue him. She'd be right up Jaha's alley if it weren't for the fact they utterly despised each other.

Her tactics on the battlefield were impressive and her bias for extreme violence was just to Jaha's taste. She was also hot, objectively, in a purely work-appropriate observational way.

And then there was, of course, the avalanche.

"Miss [Y/N]!" Officer Occupational Hazard Bitgaram yelled as they trudged through the Northern mountains.

Everyone tensed as the woman swung around to see who exactly had sealed their fate, walking far faster than she should've been through knee-high snow before there was a deep rumbling from somewhere above.

"Take cover!" An angry avalanche set course for them.

Thick sheets of ice and snow threatened to sweep them away and consume them. The team dove to take cover behind trees, hands over their heads to make pockets in the snow in an attempt to save their lives.

Without thinking Jaha had grabbed the person closest to him and dragged them under an outcrop, watching as furious snow passed them by.

A smaller body pressed against him and Jaha subconsciously pulled them closer, burying their face in his chest. Whoever it is is freezing, all hard muscle, and smells good. A fraction of a second later, he realized that they were also tiny, and all of his hair was standing up from static electricity.

Oh shit. He tensed. He's dead.

In an attempt to pull away, his foot slid on a patch of covered ice and a twinge in his ankle made him stumble. Travelling in a group meant less time for his usual morning training.

That was fine, Jaha thought. With a sound that felt a little too much like a yelp, he channelled his qi. Not the full thing, not all the way. It was too abrupt for him to do that. But it was enough to get blood to his muscles better.

Of course, that didn't make travelling within an avalanche any more pleasant. But at least it kept him from dying.

Ha. A mountain blizzard was a staggeringly vicious thing. He hadn't given that old coot enough credit. This was hard. But he supposes that's what the old man was striving for, to leave behind a legacy. To be remembered for generations to come.

To have been something.

It wasn't all bad, to exist for a purpose. A fixed point to move towards, the surroundings happily out of focus. Jaha had always known that.

Or at least he did now.

"You'd have crawled into my lap back there if I'd let you, wouldn't you, Master Jaha?” The sounds of the party had been muted from wherever [Y/N] had pulled them to. Some abandoned corner of the building. It was huge, and there were a lot of those. This one had big curtains and wood that were obviously not installed with drunk sword masters in mind.

There was a hand up his shirt and one down his pants. Jaha swore. They were pressed close. Damp wood against his back. Whatever the woman was doing with her hands was making words form slowly, and even then only in fragments.

Gods, he was sloshed. Seongtae had picked out a deadly slew of liquor for their victory lap.

"Drink a little too much?" [Y/N] asked.

Maybe. "Never."

He tried to coordinate his limbs to do something resembling reciprocity–he wanted to touch her, too–but he only ended up leaning his forehead against the other's hair. His vision swam as he watched his shirt be undone, hands tightening and loosening on black fabric.

"You're so easy."

Was that true? Yeah, probably. A few drinks, a few murders. The music and food weren't half bad, and things were always so dull otherwise. Didn't he deserve this?

"Look at how simple it is to make you fall apart," [Y/N] had a giddy sort of sneer on. Jaha should say something.

"Yes'ma'am," he hissed. He wasn't even sure what he'd chosen in reply, but that surprised laugh he got in response sounded mean and hot, so hot. God.

"Is this all I had to do to make you mind your manners? A drunk handjob?"

Jaha's hips jerked. Maybe. Okay, maybe.

"I prefer you like this," continued the woman, "Stay mindless next to me and maybe I'll keep you."

Jaha didn't want to be kept. That was not anything close to being in the script. This whole thing was just a stepping stone, conquer it and move on– oh, but he was close.

Kept. His dick certainly liked how [Y/N] had phrased it. Maybe he did want that, just a little? His brain was soft and the woman was smiling up at him with eyes that promised something. Like waiting to reward him if he just–

"Uh– fuck," his brain couldn't keep up with his mouth, "Yeah. I'm, agh–"

"Good dog."

He didn't notice he had fallen asleep until something nudged him awake. It had all felt the same: when he opened his eyes he saw white and when he closed them he saw a slightly duller white. The cold was always there. But now it was different. There was someone there, too, against the bleached sky.

"No one could actually be this stupid."

Jaha saw himself move rather than felt it, but he realized dully that [Y/N]'s boot on his chest was the reason, "Get up."

"[Y/N]?" asked Jaha. It hurt to blink, so he kept his eyes shut, "Hi. What're you doing here?"

"Hi yourself," the woman frowned down at him.

"How did you find me?" He had to be a mile or so from where he had left the others.

"The smell," she huffed, "I followed the smell of pure idiocy, and it led me here. Now get up," she repeated.

"Alright, yeah," said Jaha. It wasn't his idea to be hurled away by an avalanche and pass out, but at least it was [Y/N] who found him, and not the rest of the crew. It might be quicker this way, too.

"Did you not hear me?" came a sharp voice, "Jaha," it said sternly.

"What is it?"

"Stand up."

"...Am I not?"

He was not. It seemed he hadn't moved from the first time he had been instructed. Which was strange, because he definitely remembered doing so. But now that he was being hefted up, it struck him that this was completely different.

Jaha looked back over his shoulder, towards the top of the mountain, "What about the others?"

"The others–?" The woman seemed to remember all at once what Jaha was talking about, "Forget about them."

"Huh– why?"

"What do you mean why? Because you're barely conscious," [Y/N] snapped, "There's a cave up ahead. I'm bringing you there."

Jaha scowled. He wanted to argue, to protest, but the words wouldn't form right through the clacking of his teeth.

The maw of the cave was sizable and opened wide onto the white. This must be why there had been a cliff in the first place. The howling immediately stopped as they crossed the threshold. Temperature-wise, there was not much of a difference. Being out of the wind, however, did go a long way. Jaha felt like the boulder resting on his lungs had been downgraded to a large rock.

"Well," began [Y/N] with a sigh. Jaha had been aware in a vague, through-water sort of way that he had graduated from leaning on the other to being dragged by her, "You've really outdone yourself this time."

He was deposited onto the floor. His vision swam between the blinks of his watery eyes. It was as he pondered the ceiling of the cave, slanted and pockmarked, that Jaha came to the conclusion that he must be lying on his back. There was a tickle in his throat that he couldn't dislodge with coughing. Thoughts came slowly. Irritability lingered.

"That's an ugly face you're pulling towards the one who just saved your life," said [Y/N] from somewhere next to him.

The last cough left Jaha's chest like a growl. His head spun as if he were falling. Unable to get his bearings or discern where exactly [Y/N] was to glare at her, he rolled himself sideways and spoke with his cheek pressed to the pebble-laden floor.

This whole situation was too reminiscent of his past life.

"If you hadn't intervened, I would have been just fine," Jaha replied. Now that he was slowly regaining some small awareness of his body, he became aware of an acute pain in his temple. His knee was beginning to ache as well.

"Even for you, this is a new level of insanity," [Y/N] continued in a terse tone as if Jaha hadn't spoken. The ground crunched as she busied herself with something the man couldn't discern, "Be grateful that I deemed having you alive would be less work than dragging your dead body back to your subordinates."

There was a retort ready in Jaha's throat, but as footsteps approached, it became harder and harder to remember it. His field of view was overtaken by two boots, the snow on them melting. Then one disappeared from view, and there was a pressure on his chest as he was rolled over onto his back once more.

Many layers of clothes further numbed the sensations that were barely getting through to his body. Still, when [Y/N] threw a leg over him and sunk down to straddle Jaha's hips, he at least attempted to lift his head up.

There was no need. The back of his skull hit the ground immediately. His jaw was opened by one finger pressing into his canines, but then the other paused.

"You channelled your qi. Poorly, at that."

Jaha couldn't well answer with the way his mouth was being held open.

"You did. There are burst blood vessels in your eyes," [Y/N] sneered as she used her thumb to pull down at the bottom of Jaha's eye. The man wanted to ask why it mattered. Before he could, though, something was poured into his mouth.

"Don't make a scene. Swallow it."

His mouth was held shut. Jaha breathed hard through his nose, clenched his teeth, glared fucking daggers. The woman wore an expression that suggested she might have been reading a particularly uninteresting field report.

"Swallow," she repeated with an upward nod like it was only a matter of time before she got what she wanted. All Jaha's nerves seemed to come back online at once. He whined from behind closed lips.

It burned worse than Eastern alcohol on the way down.

He understood then that his body had been on pause, and now everything was back online all at once.

Feeling spread from his throat to his stomach and into his limbs. Now the threat of not freezing to death had passed, and every other pain sang to life in a horrible chorus.

He became aware that he was shivering– had he been so the entire time? Fatigue swept through him, worse than what he usually felt while training in his past life. His bones and teeth hurt.

Jaha cursed as he sat himself up, coughing. His lungs took in stinging cold air but he couldn't even catch his breath. He watched as the woman walked back over to her knapsack and slipped a small bottle back into one of the many pockets.

"What was that?" He wiped his chin.

"You're overreacting. It was a warming vial."

Jaha's addled mind spun for a bit before he put meaning to the words. The little glass bottles parents gave their kids when playing in the snow. They'd place them in their pockets to keep their hands warm. He never questioned what they were filled with.

"You're not supposed to drink those, last I checked."

'Doesn't matter," [Y/N] shrugged, "You just did."

Being horizontal was suddenly very unappealing. Groaning, the man slid himself over to lean against the wall of the cave, far from the entrance. His mood was sour and just about everything that could hurt in his body did. He didn't typically mind pain much– but miscalculation stung more when he'd had to be rescued as a result.

"What about the others?" asked Jaha, dimly.

"I told them to stay put."

"I hope we don't return to them frozen to death." He shifted his knee up and sucked in a pained breath.

"Oh please," huffed [Y/N] at Jaha's bellyaching, "You aren't dead just yet."

The snow whirled outside without stopping. He felt almost like a stupid kid again. Playing out in the snow too long, getting scolded by his grandfather. The neighbourhood kids that'd stuff rocks into snowballs. Those bruises always took forever to stop aching.

Jaha watched in silence as [Y/N] built up a small fire. She took materials from the knapsack by the wall. It was one of the ones their crew had packed before setting out; she must have grabbed it before she came to find Jaha.

"How do you even know about this place?" The man squinted, rubbing at his ribs.

"It might be your first time out here, but it isn't mine," replied the woman easily.

The fire, now lit, drew him in. Jaha shifted closer to be nearer, ignoring the way [Y/N] stopped to scoff. Even the sound of the wood popping under the heat felt good.

From a rock near the entrance, [Y/N] looked out at the storm, "We'll stay to wait out the worst of this. I doubt it'll last longer than the night," she paused for a moment, "And Master Jaha..."

Jaha groaned in acknowledgement. His eyes were closing.

"The next time you decide to face a natural disaster, be honest about your limits," her voice seemingly softened, but Jaha brushed it off as just him being tired and hearing things.

"I won't know them until I find them," mumbled the man, "And like you said, I'm not dead just yet."

"We don't happen to have some chicken noodle soup stuffed in that pack, do we?" groaned Jaha haplessly. Sometime between falling asleep and the sun setting, lying down had become appealing again. Sometime between lying down becoming appealing again and now, a ratty blanket had been placed underneath him.

"I've got another warming vial if you'd like," said [Y/N].

Jaha pursed his lips, sulking.

"Then stop complaining."

[Y/N] was still sitting where she had been when Jaha slipped out of consciousness, the only difference being now she was whittling something. Her hands moved slowly, but the tiny pile of wood shavings next to her suggested she'd been at it for some time. It was too small for Jaha to see from where he lay.

Next to him, the fire was still going, but growing weak. It left a stark desire for warmth in its embers. The woman had already informed him that there had only been enough materials for one in the pack. Once this was gone, he'd go back to devoting half of his thoughts to craving any sort of warmth.

"So you've been to this place before?" Jaha asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Did you mean the village near this place?"

[Y/N] hummed, along with a sigh, "Yes. It was part of my training growing up."

Training all the way out here while growing up? Suddenly, her attitude made sense to Jaha. After all, these mountains served as a place for outcasts to gather.

"This is the middle of nowhere," Jaha paused, "Do they have running water?

"I would hope so. There may be some rejects who forgo hygiene but I'd like to believe most are in the habit of bathing."

"A hot bath sounds good. Do you like baths?"

"Occasionally. Not for such juvenile purposes as relying on it to warm myself," she eyed Jaha in mock ridicule.

"Well, once we make it there, we can share one."

The small sound of scraping wood and the ever-present wind was all that could be heard for some time.

"You really don't feel cold?" Jaha said after a moment, turning his head slightly, "Not at all?"

"No," said [Y/N] to the blizzard, "Not at all."

The man blinked. The whirl behind [Y/N]'s silhouette seemed as if they were going to catch on her figure and swallow her. Like between this fluttering closure of his eyelids and the next, Jaha would find himself alone. He wondered why she had come. Responsibility as a teammate was the most sensible answer. But the martial masters didn't really rely on such routine ways of thinking. So why not just leave him to die in the snow?

Nothing [Y/N] did was without some sort of contradiction, Jaha had realized.

"I don't believe you."

At this, the woman turned. They held each other's gaze for a moment. Jaha's chest panged with how much he wished her closer. If the situation were different, he'd say some nonsense and suggest so. That worked about half the time if his math was correct.

[Y/N] did make to move, though not towards Jaha. She placed down what she had in her hands and stood, slowly.

"My subordinates would hardly hold me in their high graces if something like the cold could deter me from my goals."

Jaha wondered, was that a jab at him?

She worked at the neckline of her cloak for a moment. Jaha didn't understand what she was attempting to do until suddenly her cloak dropped to the ground and she stood in clothes unsuited for the temperature.

Jaha's heart jogged in his chest as if on instinct. His head still pounded, but he knew how it felt to touch that body and his palms itched.

"What're you…"

"You're cold, aren't you?" She asked as she bent over to pull off her boots, "The fire's almost died out, after all."

Jaha kept quiet, tracing her movements with his eyes.

His mannerisms made her scoff, "Stop gawking. As if this is something I haven't shown you before."

As if there were anywhere else to look.

Thumbs hooked over the waistband, pulling her pants off. She pushed both it and her underwear down in one motion, before tossing them to the side carelessly. Then she stood there, watching Jaha watch her. All of her. Every piece. There was a mild amusement in her eyes.

Jaha stared directly at that form, but it was like trying to focus on an aftereffect. Everything was reflected through that hue. The hair that ghosted the base of her neck, the dip of her shoulders, her breasts, her tummy, the ever so slight flare of hips, the curve of the back of her legs.

It was true, Jaha had seen her body before. But had always been denied the opportunity to take it in. Always so rough and fast and hard. Frantic. Now, there was quiet. Not calm, but something like a perversion of it. And [Y/N] looked, against the cragged rockface really, truly, exactly like a deity.

"Something you want to say?" [Y/N]'s eyes stayed locked onto Jaha's. At that, he couldn't hold it, and looked away, earning an amused scoff.

"You're a real petty piece of work, you know?" Jaha said tersely, mostly to distract himself from how he could feel his dick stirring. Even looking away, the thoughts flowed into his brain like sewage.

"Hmm?" Her lips quirked up into something that resembled a smirk, "Here I was hoping you'd be grateful."

Jaha scoffed quietly, observing as she approached him.

"I wonder," said Jaha. [Y/N] was kneeling in front of him before moving to straddle him, looking vaguely interested, but not really, "Will the others really be alright?"

"They'll figure something out," [Y/N] replied, "They can huddle for warmth if anything."

Warmth. Pressed up against a solid, beating thing. Images had washed over his mind in that instant. The woman was like a conduit for heat. It always began cold whenever they slept together and slid into something warmer.

He must have been staring because [Y/N] had a strange expression on her face.

"What?" asked she.

"No, it's nothing."

There was a slight pressure on his cheek. He felt soft, malleable. He realized [Y/N] had his face cupped in one hand, "Not getting ideas, are we, Master Jaha?"

He had been until this touch had stopped everything short.

"Not at all."

"Don't lie to me."

The promise of being done with this terrible feeling, even for a moment, was too strong. He knew he was going to lose this fight.

"[Y/N]," he began. The only thing he could hear was his own harsh breathing.

"What?"

There had been words he wanted to say. Something to articulate. But all that he managed was, "M'cold."

"I know," there was a small pleasure in it, "That's why I'm here."

Jaha's eyes looked her up and down.

"What do you need?"

He felt like he was stuck underneath a frozen lake. Losing without putting up a fight. She wouldn't tell anyone, would she?

"You."

The hand holding Jaha's face dropped away, "But I can't keep you warm for long."

He understood what was going on. That he was being baited. But if he did as he was told and laid a hand on the bare body before him now…

…he could slip his hands to lay on either side of [Y/N]'s neck. He might slide them lower then, down her shoulders, to her elbows. Press at her ribcage, and move back up. Jaha may squeeze at that chest.

And yet...

[Y/N] raised her eyebrows. A small tilt of her head, "No? You're getting cold feet now?"

"I can't tell if this is what you want," Jaha managed to reply, his mouth fuzzy, “My head… kind of hurts."

"Then you don't have to think. Isn't that what you've always done, anyway?"

Heedless instances and red flashes and split-second decisions. Impulse and action were what made him up. Yeah, it was what he had always done.

"Go on. Lead with your hands," said she, "Lean towards what you think will warm you up."

Jaha reached out. It felt like it took years for the gap between their bodies to end in a small point of contact. Just the flat of Jaha's hand on the base of [Y/N]'s neck. Thumb at the corner of her jaw.

As if it were the easiest thing in the world, the woman shifted in Jaha's lap. So little work for so much reward. The pressure of her body was proof that sensations other than cold existed. Bare legs on either side of his hips, [Y/N] sat for a spell, watching. That hand was still resting on his neck. She narrowed her eyes and nudged it.

"Is this all you want to touch, Master Jaha?"

His cheeks burned, though he didn't know why. They'd done this before, and every time Jaha was always overeager.

"I've already given you permission," said [Y/N] complacently, "Do whatever you want to me," She grabbed Jaha's hand and brought it to squeeze her breast, "After all, you're a stupid dog. You can't help yourself."

His dick jumped. More bait, he thought dully, but pride was much harder to touch than [Y/N]'s skin. And shame couldn't be all that bad if it set his nerves alight like this. Jaha kissed the last bit of his senses away.

It wasn't all that difficult afterwards to pull her closer. He panted against that tongue and whimpered at the bites on his lips. Hands rested on his shoulders, bunching in the fur of his collar. With nothing of his own to hang on to, Jaha held tight to the skin on the back of [Y/N]'s upper arm, the base of her spine, her hips. His hands felt clumsy, without purchase.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

[Y/N]'s hand in his hair tightened into a fist and settled Jaha's head back against the wall. He was trying to breathe through his nose so that the air wouldn't feel as cold.

"I– I–" Fuck. His mind was slipping into those soft, easy places. He wanted the simple shame badly. Sit. Stay. Roll over.

"I need you to tell me I'm a good boy."

It should be something admitted through clenched teeth, a bitten-off confession wrenched from him by force. But Jaha knew how good it could feel, and he also knew [Y/N]'s bored eyes would grow that much sharper at how ineptly it tumbled from his tongue.

Fingers were at his neck. They rested just below his jawline and sprouted a fire there, like everywhere else that [Y/N] touched. Those hands weren't hot, or even warm, so there must really be something wrong with Jaha's head. A thumb trailed up to press into the hollow beneath his bottom lip while the other fingers curled beneath his chin. Jaha's mouth hung open in small breaths.

"And are you?"

"Yeah."

[Y/N] cupped him through his pants, "You are? You're not a mutt with nothing in his brain but when he can next get his dick wet?"

He winced but managed to hold their eye contact. He wanted to earn this, "No— I'll be your good boy. Really good for you. Please."

"Haha," [Y/N] sat back, "Haha! Is there anything you won't do? Would you splay your stomach for me?"

Jaha nodded until he was sure he'd pulled something in his neck.

"Show me just how good you can be," breathed the woman. She released her hold on Jaha and sat back, "Get yourself off."

If there was still such a thing as shame in this little world they'd trapped themselves in, then maybe Jaha would have hesitated before fumbling out of his pants.

[Y/N] seemed to remember something, and only deigned to move from her position in the man's lap to root through the knapsack again. She threw a small vial at Jaha before sitting right back down.

Regular oil. [Y/N] had used it to wet the tinder for the fire earlier.

He unfastened his pants and slid them down his thighs just enough to free his dick. He then tipped the oil into his palm and started to stroke himself.

It hurt, his hands shook, but the friction felt good. The impulse to shutter his eyes nearly won out–but he wanted to be seen. To perform well and do as he was told bore the risk of reward. If the woman was feeling generous.

There was a chance Jaha would be delegated to finishing in his own hand with nothing so much as another touch from [Y/N]. Just a bored look and a mildly amused, pitying expression; Jaha had seen it before. It didn't matter, not really. There was heat in being the subject of such strict attention.

"Is this how you treat yourself when you think of me?"

"Yes," Jaha was distantly surprised at how desperate his voice sounded.

"Go on, keep talking. You wouldn't want me to lose interest."

"I think of our fights, the way you hit me."

"A dog who likes being disciplined."

"It's so hard to find someone who's able to keep up," Jaha twisted his wrist. He swore he saw real contempt pass over [Y/N]'s features, "You fight me like you really– hah –want to kill me.

"But I also," Jaha swallowed, "I really like when I can throw you off balance. And you give me that look like you're impressed with me."

"How honest."

"Ha… a nice break from all the treachery at Gangho, right?"

"Yes, but a mind as empty as yours can't contain shame. A mindless, pretty, obedient boy."

Jaha's hand stuttered for a moment on the upstroke. He pressed a thumb into the head of his cock to keep from coming right then.

"Maybe I'll reward you," the woman hummed for a moment. Her eyes raked over Jaha's body. He was the one with all his clothes on, but he felt seen through.

His wrist was swatted away as the woman took Jaha's cock into her own hand. And unlike Jaha, she set a much faster pace.

He didn't know how often they'd fucked. There were too many instances of a fight becoming something more, or an ill-advised dare between them, to count it properly. Still, they hadn't been at this all that long. And yet [Y/N] knew exactly what touches shook Jaha out of his mind with pleasure. His brain went white like the storm outside.

"Stay," instructed she. Jaha's hands bunched in the blanket underneath him.

He had to be good. He had to be good because if he wasn't, then [Y/N] would stop, leave him here. No use for a defunct weapon, a disobedient dog. He felt like he could cry. The brief brush of a nail against the underside of his cock, the way the heel of the woman's hand pressed into the head.

"God, [Y/N], Please, please, please–"

The touch vanished. Jaha buckled forward with a strangled sound. His hands flew to [Y/N]'s shoulders, his head rested against her neck. His shaking arms wrapped around her. His chest heaved.

"You can show discipline when you want to," a pitying hand carded through the hair at the nape of his neck, "Or is it only just for me?"

Yes, for you. Jaha wanted to say. No one else has ever been able to do this to me. I'm stuck with you.

"Please," Jaha swallowed, "Please."

"I don't know what you're begging for," said [Y/N], nonchalantly, "Tell me what you want, dog."

"I want to be inside you. Where it's warm."

"I've already given you my whole body. You still want more?"

He didn't know how he'd ever stop wanting more.

"Yes."

"Hm. And you'll be good?"

"Yeah. Promise."

[Y/N] pushed him back. With efficiency, she splayed herself out on the blanket, leaving Jaha to do his best to situate himself. The woman waited as Jaha stumbled out of his pants. Then he shifted until he was on top of her. His cloak covered most of their bodies. It gave the whole thing a bit of modesty, and even though there was no one but them, Jaha didn't want anyone to see how she let herself be touched by him.

He brought a shaking hand down [Y/N]'s stomach, down to between her legs.

"You're wet," Jaha realized happily.

"Yeah," [Y/N]'s eyes lidded, "And I can see your tail wagging."

Jaha had wanted to be asked, to be guided through, but he didn't need to be asked twice. He lifted up [Y/N]'s hips to position himself. He spread her legs apart, and the woman just allowed him to, limp and expectant. Jaha let one leg rest just over his shoulder.

And then he couldn't wait anymore. He pushed himself inside with a sigh. Perfect and tight and warm.

"Not just anyone would do this for you, you know," said [Y/N] from under him.

"I know," Jaha nodded as he began to move. Nothing, not the fire, or the draught or anything had felt as good as this.

He dipped his head and kissed the woman's neck. As he sped up it became sloppier until he was panting open-mouthed against the skin. There was so much sensation after hours of nothing. [Y/N] safe underneath him and Jaha safe in her hands. Everything else seemed small in the light of these facts. Being of service. Doing what he was told.

"How does it feel?" asked [Y/N]. As tight as Jaha was holding her, she didn't cling back. It wasn't uncommon to spot this detached look in her eyes, though Jaha never knew exactly what to do with it.

He settled for being earnest. It pushed its way past what little else was in his mind, "So good, thank you–"

There was a pressure building near the base of his spine, his stomach. Jaha was well aware he was close. But if he finished now, then she would move away again. He'd be without anything to grasp. And then what? Worse, getting himself off first felt selfish. He should take care of [Y/N] first, shouldn't he?

It must have shown on his face because [Y/N] spoke.

"Slow down."

Jaha whined. He wanted to. Only it was impossible, it had to be. But that's what he'd been told. Commanded. Somehow, his hips slowed and stopped.

A hand came to rest at his jaw. [Y/N] looked so composed, and Jaha felt ruined. But the woman's eyes were so pretty. They narrowed in a small laugh.

"Good boy, Jaha."

His heart skipped. His hips moved on their own.

"Sorry–"

"Oh, you do like it. No one calls you that anymore, do they?" He was being teased, but there seemed to be something more behind the words. Like she was happy to have this knowledge. And Jaha knew, somehow, that she'd hold it safe.

"Do you miss it?" A thumb over his cheek, "Does it make you feel whole again?"

"Yes," Everything felt raw and real. His heart was flayed and pumping hot blood. He wanted to move, needed to move.

[Y/N] did so first. She rolled her hips down and before long Jaha was meeting her. They found a rhythm easier than usual. The usual was claws and teeth and grasping onto whatever they could. Here, Jaha had given up the reins. Heat swelled up between them.

It was so soft and so warm. Jaha drove himself over and over and over into that heat, watching the way the skin of the woman's stomach buckled and moved.

He looked up, perhaps meaning to say something, but was distracted by the look he found on [Y/N]'s face. How empty it appeared at that moment. Their eyes met, but the woman only blinked.

Jaha wanted to bury himself inside. Would that draw out a reaction? Not just fucking, or fighting, but to live underneath that skin. There, he'd never be cold again, he was sure. How could he be, with someone to guide him from the storm?

Small hands went to grab the back of Jaha's arm, and that was all the warning he received before [Y/N] tightened around him. The minute movements in her expression, the clenching of her jaw, the too-fast blink of her eyelids. Jaha watched it all. The woman looked, for the first time since she had stripped herself, vulnerable.

He should stop. Jaha knew well how [Y/N] must feel right now, oversensitive and spent. But there it was; the urge to gorge himself on it. [Y/N]'s ankle behind his back pulled him closer. If he didn't stop at this moment, he knew he was not going to be able to.

"I–"

"Go on."

He thought he heard a sob, and then realized it must have been his own voice. A shudder wracked his body as he came–but shuddering from something other than cold felt so good.

It hurt dully when he collapsed to the side. The blanket really was not very thick at all. As if on impulse, he gathered her up in his arms and pressed her bare body close. Jaha worried for a moment that it was going to earn him a smack, but it was only the cloak being pulled over both of them. The sounds of the blizzard filtered back to the forefront. Then there was oblivion inside, as there was outside.

The other team members were fine, only nearly cried when they saw the two of them return safe and sound. Whatever paperwork it would have been for [Y/N] if a few of them died under her watch, it would've probably been leagues worse if she and Jaha had died instead.

The village, when they finally reached it, was more elaborate than Jaha had expected. They had only lost half a day to travel, and with a clear weather report for the next few days, they should be able to make it on time.

That night, Jaha knocked on the door to [Y/N]'s suite. A maid opened it. Her forearms were damp and she had a wood bucket in her hand. She dismissed herself with a bow.

"So," Jaha said, taking a seat on the bed, "About that bath offer."

[Y/N] didn't look up. She was in front of the bathroom sink, undressing. Jaha walked up behind her and untucked her shirt.

"It was you who offered if I recall correctly," [Y/N] said to the mirror.

"Yeah, but your bathroom's bigger. Perks of being a little more renowned than me."

"A little?"

The shirt fell to the tiled floor. [Y/N] turned to face him. Around her neck, she wore a necklace.

"Is this new?" He touched it with one hand, "I've never seen you wear it before."

It was long and wooden. He could see the lines of precise carvings on it.

"Yeah," [Y/N] brought it to her lips, "Want to hear it?"

The sound was faint, high-pitched. It was made to echo off trees and call well-trained pups back home.

A dog whistle.

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. huhu, I've been gone for too long again, my baadd..... I have to posture here, though, that you can use oil (olive/canola/etc) as a way to wet tinder for fire. and if you didn't know, olive oil was historically used as lube. It's important to me to tell you that I didn't bs that.

#return of the crazy demon #return of the mad demon #jaha lee #webtoon #yi zaha #lee jaha #returnofthemaddemon #returnofthecrazydemon #광마회귀 #jahalee #reader x jaha #jaha x reader #reader fic #reader x character #female reader #jaha lee x reader

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