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postersofleon · 26 days

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Honey Has Value

In Leon's first mission, everyone warned him about the merchants that come every once in a while during dangerous situations. Nobody knows them. But everyone trusts them enough. Even Krauser, who was very sensitive in whom to trust with his weaponry. The merchants are the most chaotic neutral people who would sell to any person who had enough gold or anything in value. During one of his missions, Leon finally saw one of the merchants.

content: smut

notes: pre resident evil four; afab fem!reader; he forgot to socialize thanks to working in the military; reader is pretty femme by wearing a black dress; sexual frustrations coming from leon; small mentions of rotting flesh, leon is an awkward flirt; guys, even though i write smut, i hate booktok, does that make sense or i'm giltching in the system. smallish smut, little story.

taglist: @argreion

Leon could believe in Umbrella's cruel experiments. He had seen these monsters who are kindly called bioweapons, and even though Leon isn't forced to fight against them. He sometimes saw the creatures they turned into, and that was enough for a young rookie cop to see. He then had to mistrust his own government for wanting to harm a young child. Leon panicked and immediately a blackmail was tied around his throat.

A perfect noose around him. A traumatized man can't go back to his old life. Leon had to help a girl he barely saw in the tragedy of Raccoon City.

All because of his stupid want to help people. He was sinking in this damn hole depression, and he wasn't even allowed to go to therapy. When he was excited to talk to Claire, she wasn't there because she was still searching her missing brother.

Leon was alone. Leon didn't even have time with Sherry.

He believed in all of these faults of the world. It was a nasty cruel world that could barely be saved. Leon didn't even save Sherry. That was thanks to Claire. In that night, he didn't save anyone, and he trusted a bad person who fell to her death. Every inch of Leon's body knew guilt, the disappointment of the world, and bioweapons.

But why couldn't Leon didn't believe in this random ass Merchant? Merchants sounded like scumbags and fake to the bone yet everyone in his section of soldiers swore up and down that they are real and good enough.

They only appear in missions. The government doesn't pay for them to help. And none of them are the same person over and over. One had a handsome man with a bow tie; another had an elder woman, and lastly, Krauser even said he had dealt with a pair of twins. That's what made Leon struggle to believe this was real.

None of these people were truly scared to show their faces, but they all had the same name of merchant.

They had no true agenda. No sense of good or bad.

Leon hoped to never see them in his own missions. He didn't care if they had helped them before, Leon wasn't interested in them no matter how much.

His mission was down south. He had to learn Spanish in case the issues came to his language, but he knew the main part of the mission. A couple of normal soldiers came here, and we were murdered by a couple infected by the T. Leon was the next best option.

And Leon came ready. If a merchant was going to be there, he'll ignore them, no matter who it is.

Once he entered the place, it was a lonely village that was nearby an Umbrella lab, so he had already concluded who was going to be here. His heart beaten fast when he saw a person infected by the T. A poor woman whose skin was rotted away. Leon killed her without a second doubt. Even if Leon had the cure in his hand, he wouldn't want to use it on her, especially with the heat of the brutal summer.

Not only was her skin rotted. There was hole in skull that he didn't even make.

"How unfortunate," Leon immediately turned to whom it belonged to, "Seeing death is always unforgivable." A woman with a black dress was behind a desk of items. Due to the circumstances, she was hauntingly beautiful with the death surrounding her. It took a moment for Leon to realize it. She is a merchant.

"Hi, stranger." She smiled politely at Leon.

"Hi." Leon said firmly.

She played with string of pearls around her neck, "I'll be helping you with.... your situations." She seemed so nonchalant, her voice was relaxed as if the danger could never harm her.

"Situations..." Leon looked around her store of items. She had almost everything in this little place, a small box with a strange symbol planted on the center. "I'm sure you are betting for to get into those situations." Leon muttered. But she shook her head. It was almost automatic.

"Goodness, no!" She exclaimed loudly. "My services are here to help you. To assist you." She placed her gloved hand between him and her. "May I? Free of charge."

There was a silence between them. Begrudgingly, Leon handed his gun to her, "Careful with it." He muttered.

She grabbed the gun, "SG-09 R. Quite impressive." She clocked it and checked the modifications in the gun. "Fast, strong, and made by Kendo." She pointed the gun towards a section and shot a glass bottle. "But I can make better. Especially with the control of the government." She broke up the gun and grabbed a small bottle of oil to ease up the details of gun. "Do I permission to change the glock?"

Leon nodded his head.

The merchant got into work, she brought out the small tools to work on the gun, and changed very small details of the gun. After a couple of short minutes, she twirled the gun back into place. "Here you go, stranger." The merchant handed the gun back to its owner.

Leon lifted the gun and noticed the differences. She didn't change the drastic differences of the poor gun, but it made it functional for the monsters. He pulled on the trigger and shot the a piece of wood. The gun shot faster.

She grabbed a rag and cleaned her gloved hands. "It's easy as they come." She smiled. Her fingers returned back to her pearls, dragging the details bit by bit. "I love helping the new."

Leon wished he was normal. His dumb mind entered cave man for like three seconds. Maybe it was the small praise he got from her or how the merchant spoke to him without belittling him. He felt his cock twitch, "Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly put his gun back to its holster.

He promised himself the less impossible thing ever. Leon was spending a lot of time with the merchant, he saw her how her knife formed small knick knacks from wood. "Look." The merchang leaned to show him. It was small wooden figure of him. Leon took in a sharp exhale.

"Nice." He whispered softly.

"I give them to the other merchants so they can sell them." The merchant smiled. Her painting was very gentle, every brush was made with love. "Why sell them?" Leon asked. "It's like discount. If you have this." She lifted a small shield-like charm, "You'll have an upgrade with any merchant."

"Oh, that's great." Leon eyed her face, "So, if another merchant sees it, they'll automatic give you that help."

The merchant smiled, "Exactly." She continued the paint and Leon was just looking at her, "So, what perks will I get if I buy my small keychain?" He whispered softly. The merchant sighed softly, "Mm, well, how about 30% off when I fixed that knife of yours."

Leon nodded his head as he continued to look.

As time passed and such, Leon did his job and then immediately went to her section to 'buy' stuff. All that time of bothering the merchant, he finally got what he wanted as she pumped his cock.

She was on her knees as she pumped his cock into her mouth, Leon's hips moved up, "Fuck." The merchant rubbed the red tip and sucked it gently. He needed this after so long. Leon's hands covered his face, his cheeks were red and he was ultra sensitive over everything. The merchant rubbed Leon's tip around her lips and left his pre cum around them.

He chewed on his lips trying to keep quiet in case an infected could find them. The merchant's hand pumped his length, "I do the first time free." She teased him. Her hand slide down his cock and massaged his balls. He didn't know if she spoke the truth, but he was willing to pay for this again. The merchant's tongue dragged against his shaft and kissed the tip. "Just fuck me. Please."

The merchant shook her head, "You'll need your energy for the fights." She looked at his cock and placed his needy self inside of her mouth. She gagged weakly, his hips weakly moved against the merchant's mouth. He needed to cum and go back to work. His hands traveled around his pecs and squeezed them, he noticed the merchant noticing those details. Leon blushed but didn't stop himself as he played with nipples.

Flicking them a bit trying to help the simulation. She bobbed her head faster and he groaned. "Fuck, fuck-" His cum erupted into the merchant's mouth and it slowly fell out, she licked the mess without an issue. Leon groaned loudly feel his body relax bit by bit. His eyes completely soften and gently caressed her face, "Mm, thank you."

When Leon was back on his feet, he felt her hands smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. He felt too easy, but he liked her touch.

As the sun set above him, the merchant waved politely a goodbye to Leon; He simply nodded his head, his legs were a bit weak, but he had to go back to his job.

The next time he was with the Merchant, he was between her dress. He licked her pussy, his hands opened her thighs to shove himself deeper. Her cunt was keeping him sane after the brutal fights, her hands grabbed his hair and pulled his straight blond hair. Leon growled weakly, "Please, I just need your cum." No extra steps, he wanted it. His tongue moved around her clit and once he heard the merchant's moan he focused on it more.

His fingers shoved inside of her pussy and pumped them in and out. His tongue licked the wetness that poured into his hand. His finger curled up and fucked her up. The merchant's legs squirmed around Leon. He licked up the pretty hole and removed his fingers again, her thighs clenched around his face as he fucked her with his tongue. Flicking it over and over, he pulled it out and sucked her clit. She groaned loudly, her legs opened a bit, and Leon kissed her thighs over and over. The merchant released, Leon's fingers rubbed gently her cunt and licked the mess.

He was thankful for the merchant's services.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 leon

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svsss-fanon-exposed · 5 months

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Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 4/∞

CHRONICALLY/TERMINALLY ILL SHEN YUAN

Rating: FANON - UNSUPPORTED

It isn't an uncommon thing for fans to headcanon their favorite characters as disabled, or queer, or otherwise having experiences that relate to the fan's own identity or promote fandom diversity. This in itself can be a very positive and affirming thing.

I will reiterate, of course, that this blog is not meant to say that anyone's headcanons are bad or invalid-- no matter what canon says, anyone can have whatever headcanon they please.

However, there is a difference between headcanon and incorrect interpretation.

The idea that Shen Yuan, prior to transmigration, was chronically or terminally ill is something that falls more heavily into the latter category. Rather than being known as a headcanon or even acknowledged as fanon, this idea is often taken as canonical fact or "default" in western fandom.

It does not stem from one person's creative interpretation of a character, but instead from an inaccurate TL note on a passage in an earlier fan translation of the novel.

In this early translation, the following passage:

不过沈清秋要求真的不高，在这边混吃等死，颐养天年，他就心满意足了。反正跟他前生过的日子也没啥差别。

was translated as:

However, Shen Qingqiu didn’t have any high requirements. He’d be content to just while away his time here and wait to die. At any rate, it wasn’t much different from his previous life. (CNoveluv/BCNovels Ch. 3)

Attached to this was the following Translator's Note:

Previous life: Bit of a subtle hint that our main character probably had a terminal illness or something that would have taken his life in time.

(many thanks to @furbygoblinxiv for quotes!)

This TL note is where the idea that Shen Yuan was canonically chronically/terminally ill originated.

However, the assumption is wholly incorrect. The phrase "混吃等死" is a saying which translates literally, to "aimlessly eating meals and waiting for death," but refers to a lack of ambition and general listlessness, or someone who just wastes their life away, not making anything of themselves.

This is in line with Shen Yuan's original description of himself:

From early on, he’d known that even if he idled the rest of his life away, he’d never want for food. Perhaps due to this carefree upbringing, devoid of either competition or pressure, he came to believe that ranking in the top ten of a competition was good enough, so long as it had more than ten people. (7S Ch. 1)

In fact, this same phrase 混吃等死 is used here in the original text, where the translation says "idled the rest of his life away."

In fanworks, Shen Yuan has sometimes been referred to as a "pretty boy waiting around to die," specifically in reference to having poor health in his previous life. This comes from another section later on in the novel:

He based this body on the appearance that he, Shen Yuan, originally had in his past life. It wasn’t as good as Shen Qingqiu’s immortal demeanor, but it could still be considered a pretty good body. The only thing was that it gave off a bit of a dispirited feeling like he was a pretty boy sitting around waiting to die. (BCNovels Ch. 44)

Yet again, this is a translation of the same phrase as before, and while not incorrect in terms of a literal translation, the true intention of the phrase does not carry over well to western audiences.

Within the novel itself, there is nothing that directly implies that Shen Yuan was terminally or chronically ill. The headcanon itself is valid as a headcanon, but not if it is taken as a canonical fact.

Of course, it cannot be entirely disproven either-- which is why this post is rated as fanon-unsupported instead of fanon-conflicting. One could argue that his cavalier attitude toward Without-A-Cure could be a result of past experience with chronic illness, or his general disconnect from his past life and body, and that would be a fair enough interpretation-- however, it could also be explained by something like depression (while I am well aware that depression is a chronic illness, the fanon of chronically ill Shen Yuan almost always is referring to specifically physical chronic illness). Either interpretation would be equally arguable, and fans should choose whichever resonates with them personally to use in their works or otherwise for themselves-- or neither, if they would prefer!

However, it should NOT be argued that chronically/terminally ill Shen Yuan is a canonically-proven fact, as it is based on an inaccurate interpretation by a translator, not on the original text itself , and it should not be spoken of as if it is any kind of erasure for Shen Yuan not to be portrayed as chronically ill.

The idea had already circulated throughout western fandom circles by the time the official English TL came out-- so it was deeply entrenched within fanon by then, and many fans likely didn't pay too much attention to the changes because of this. However, the official translation interprets the two passages listed above the following way:

Still, Shen Qingqiu was a man of few needs; he would have been satisfied just idling away to a ripe old age. In that way, it wouldn’t be that different from how his previous life had been going. (7S Ch. 1)

[Shen Yuan's appearance] just had a bit of a certain listlessness—the listlessness of a worthless pretty boy idling his life away. (7S Ch. 9)

This translation, while not word-for-word, is far more accurate in spirit, and much harder to misinterpret.

Because of misunderstandings such as this one, I highly recommend that fans who have not yet read the official translation do so, as many other such inaccuracies and misinterpretations have been clarified in this translation.

#svsss #fanon exposed #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #unsupported

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months

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Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames: Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.

Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz

********

You’ve never felt such pain before.

It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.

But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"

Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.

It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.

The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.

Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."

He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.

And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?

You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.

You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."

You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.

When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.

That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.

You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."

BANG!

The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?

"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"

No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?

You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.

You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.

That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.

You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?

He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.

“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.

You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.

You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”

You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.

Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”

And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.

Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”

He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”

You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“

“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”

You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"

Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”

Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”

You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay?

But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants.

You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him.

“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place.

“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out.

You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did.

“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.”

A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away.

You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.

Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on.

He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?”

“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.”

You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.”

Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can.

You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”

He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.”

You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.”

And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.

You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!”

Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.

“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!”

Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.”

He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.”

And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm.

Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.

He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva.

A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“

“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes.

Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp.

Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“

But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”

You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight.

“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases.

But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?”

He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak.

You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.”

You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!”

Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”

He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?”

You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.

But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.”

Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass.

When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.

He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis.

Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.

You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted.

He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time.

By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock.

But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.

Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.”

He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.

All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob.

Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”

And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent.

Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.”

Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.

He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!”

Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy.

“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.”

You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?”

He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.

“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.”

And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.

“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.”

You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”

And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy.

When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.

He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.”

Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.

When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are.

Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?”

He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.”

All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.

For now, all you want and need is him.

THE END.

#smutty smut #my works #black fanfic writer #my fic shit #black coded reader #black writers #satoru gojo x black!reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #feral gojo #happy birthday gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut

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theysaidhush · 1 year

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Free use with San ;)

I'm sorry but free use with San ? Boi yes. And when you don't expect it, because else it's not funny >:)

Quick example. Free use means that you can be in the shower, trying to take a nice and warm shower landing your own business when suddenly he comes and fuck you dumb without a word, without asking, giving you the best orgasms ever until he has to hold you. But he's not done with you !! Oh, no, he HAS to hold your limp body and carry you, press your tits against the tiles as he lands a slap on your ass. Tight grip on your jaw, keeping your mouth open so he can put his fingers in.

Free use means that you are in the kitchen washing the dishes when San comes and bend you over the counter, gripping you by the hair while thrusting into you, hitting it from the back, the sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room. Free use because that boy is needy so even tho he acts like a bad guy, he would definitely whimper moan and curse in a high pitch tone, voice trailing off as he's saying nonsenses because he's pussy drunk.

Free use with San would imply fucking in the bathroom of an ice cream shop. Don't ask me why '-' Dude would bring you to the bathroom and lower your short or pants or simply push your panties aside as he's shoving his fat dick in your warm and welcoming hole without prep. He's careful tho and watch for any reaction, ready to put a stop to everything if you're hurt or really uncomfortable. But if you're not, he does not care if anyone hears anything, you're so pliant and nice to him, that's the only thing that matters. He would nip on your earlobe and muffle his moans in your neck, his grip so tight that when you would check hours after you would see bruises all over your thighs. A lot of ass and tits groping. Someone's waiting outside ? He's not done with you. You offered your body to him so easily, he can't let go of it anymore. He would definitely cum inside and asks you to keep it until you come back home. Loves seeing you squirm and squeeze your legs when you're walking in the mall, it makes him feel powerful ;)

Free use when he's watching a show in the living room and you're laying in bed and he suddenly thinks that he wants needs your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. Getting up and coming straight to your room without even turning off the tv, taking off your clothes while you're looking at him, clueless, when he suddenly lowers his pants and ask you while breathing heavily to open that pretty mouth of yours and suck the life outta him. You don't complain because he's your boy and you just wanna please him. It doesn't matter if you were in the middle of an online course, you can turn the camera and mic off and put your hands around his length, stroke it and lick it like it's your favorite popsicle >< Free use means that he doesn't ask you if he can push you on your back and put his dick between your breast, watching in awe as the saliva spread on his dick allows him to thrust rapidly enough, but not too much so you can still lick the tip of his cock every time he's going upward. Messy and sloppy titty-fuck, coming on your tongue as you stuck it out, and then deepthroating to cure his depression <3 He cleans you up and hug you before going back to his drama in the living room.

#san smut #san hard hours #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #san hard thoughts #ateez hard thoughts #san x reader #san x you #ateez x reader #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #san headcanons

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cerastes · 3 months

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I think Laios succeeds as good autistic representation in the same way Hikigaya (Oregairu) succeeds as good depression representation in that they are made genuinely and affectionately with a focus on showing the real pit falls that come with it (with Laios' journey not being about "beating it" because it's not a vile thing to beat in the first place and it's not even an explicit thing, while Hikigaya's journey is very much about moving past it not by being thrust into a magical depression-curing manic pixie dream girl, but rather, giving him people he cares about so much and that he has to acknowledge care so much about him that he takes the extremely difficult first step forward by his own will) as overall parts of a greater narrative.

The emphasis here should be the sincerity and affection it's done with, a combination of both: I don't condemn things written with escapism in mind, "comfort reads", if you will, sometimes that's what people want to write and want to read, no greater journey, just Please Accept Me. But I think it's phenomenal, even important, when topics like this are written with this level of sincerity and affection, affection because it's not a mockery or simply superficial, sincerity because it shows you the ugly and the difficult parts of it as well, because there's people out there that, if the succeeses of Oregairu and Dungeon Meshi are anything to go by, are in fact receptive to this more raw, more blunt, more sincere showcases of these things, penned nonetheless with affection and optimism that treats them not as dead ends, but rather difficult but surmountable states (Oregairu with depression and self-loathing) or simply just how some people are and operate differently from the established norm and how that doesn't make them worse or inferior people (Dungeon Meshi with its autistic representation). Nothing wrong with some fast food popcorn wish fulfillment, but there's an audience for seeing something that may hurt a little or more than just a little in how accurate and truthful it is the real experiences lived by those that can relate, because this ache translates to investment, and now I'm invested in seeing how this breathing, living character overcomes the inherent adversity of something we can very much relate to.

#dungeon meshi #oregairu

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shinra33459 · 2 years

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Transformers x Human Reader Headcanons (Realizing Your Mortality)

Time for some good, old-fashioned angst >:) Art credits to GoddessMechanic on DeviantArt

Optimus Prime

For a being as old as Optimus Prime, the passage of time seems to fly by in his perspective. He’s 9 million years old, and for anything that old, time just seems like a blur to him.

He knew that humans aren’t a long-lived species, at least by Cybertronian standards. However, when he realized that you two would only have about 60 more years together, it sent him into a deep depression.

Just thinking about what he did in the span of 60 years, it all seemed so fast to him. His stoic nature was starting to crack. He was upset and depressed just thinking about that.

He wanted you to be able to live forever, and as such, he tasked Ratchet into finding a way to increase the human lifespan. He made sure that whenever Ratchet wasn’t busy with fixing other Autobots, or resting, that he was trying to find a way to save you.

You found out and told Optimus that if you really were going to die, that you would meet again some day. Whether that be in afterlife or reincarnation. You two were bound by soul and spark, and nothing would change that.

Optimus felt better after you told him this, but his mission to cure human mortality would continue. Even if you were long gone by the time the cure to the short lifespan of humanity was ready, he would still follow through. If not to save you, to honor the memory of you.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee was just chilling about the Autobot base one day when the realization struck him like a ton of bricks. Around your 70s, 80s or 90s, you were going to die.

Cybertronians could be repaired, rebuilt, and continue on, even after their deaths. Even if their spark was extinguished, the Allspark could still revive them in theory. Humans on the other hand, if they die, that’s it. No repairs, no revival, nothing. It’s game over.

He began panicking hard. What if you died before the war was over? What if you died before you ever got to see Cybertron? When he learned of diseases that humans can get as they get old, like Alzheimer’s, higher cancer risks, etc., it made him panic even more.

One day he barged into Ratchet’s office and was ranting and raving about how short human lives are and how it was unfair. Ratchet got him to calm down and explain what was going on.

Upon hearing the cause of these ravings, he began to ponder a solution. He suggested maybe transferring your consciousness into a Cybertronian body, but it was a longshot. You overheard what was going on and decided to see what this was about.

You comforted Bumblebee and told him that no matter what, you were going to stay by his side. If he died, his memory would live on with you, and that you knew, if or when you die, your memory would live on with him.

Megatron

Megatron was always one to ruminate about things. His goals, the future of the Decepticons, the current situation on Cybertron, among other things. It was only a matter of time before his ruminating centered on your exceedingly short lifespan.

He didn’t know whether to curse Primus or whatever god created humans for making them so short lived. His own death was something that was always possible but dying of age wasn’t a possibility for him. His spark would be extinguished during battle.

Almost immediately, he got the greatest scientists and bioengineers within the Decepticon cause to begin looking into the human genome. They were tasked with finding a solution to humanity’s short lives and Megatron wanted this cure for mortality even more than his desire to control Cybertron.

Megatron was upfront with you about these plans. You appreciated that he wanted to extend your lifespan significantly, and would gladly take that option, but you wanted to explain something to him.

You told Megatron that immortality is a blessing, but a curse at the same time. Because humans live shorter lives, it allows them to appreciate the beauty of life. This was something that Megatron hadn't thought about before.

He had been around for so long and had been through so much that he seemed to forget the beauty of life even on Cybertron. Megatron held you in his hands as he sat on the throne, ruminating about this new perspective, or the perspective that he lost.

Starscream

The seeker knew right from the get-go that humans live pretty short lives. It was an undeniable fact that he couldn't escape. Starscream didn't want to lose you, so he began putting his mind to work.

He began by trying to get a few Decepticon scientists to help him, but that wasn't working because he didn't have the resources Megatron has.

Eventually, Starscream decided to build you a new body with the help of the previous scientists, as well as Knockout. The design resembled you down to every detail, even your soft human skin.

One day, you decided to see what your Cybertronian lover was up to, and saw the body being made. At first, you thought that Starscream was going to replace you, but he calmed you down.

He told you that you two didn't have too much time together left because you were going to die in 50 to 60 years. Hearing the sadness in his voice, you climbed up him and hugged the seeker's neck.

Starscream's anxiety relaxed and he rested a few of his large fingers on your back. You told him that no matter if he got that body working or not, you weren't going anywhere. Your soul was his, and his spark was yours.

#optimus prime x reader #bumblebee x reader #megatron x reader #starscream x reader #transformers x reader #human reader #angst

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greenglowinspooks · 7 months

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Alrighty fellas time for another one

(DPxDC) Batman Rogues ranked based on how good at parenting Danny (and co.) they would be

—

Would probably actually be able to step up and be (relatively) good parents: The Penguin, Mr. Freeze.

They would have EXTREMELY different dynamics with Danny, but I think they could figure it out.

The Penguin would definitely only take in Danny to improve his reputation, and probably so that he could monopolize the use of a new meta’s abilities. (And perhaps to study him)

However, I think that attitude would last for at the absolute most a month, probably closer to two weeks, before he genuinely bonded with him. He’s like the dad who says he doesn’t want a pet, and then in a week they’re inseparable.

He’s not a good person, but I think he could probably end up being an awesome fucking dad. Also, there’s no way in hell anyone would mess with Danny. Not even close. If he found out Danny was getting bullied he’d ruin the bully’s fucking life.

He wouldn’t directly throw hands with a child, sure, but that’s only because it would look bad. He would, however, completely destroy their family’s careers and force them to leave Gotham out of shame.

Mr. Freeze is only a rogue because of his wife. Like, that’s it. He only wants (or wanted, depending on the version) for his wife to be cured and to live happily with her again. All of this is for her, either to help her or to avenge her.

That’s to say that yeah, if Danny managed to weasel his way into his heart, he would have a place with him forever.

He’d probably only interact with him at first because of the ice powers, but if Danny did manage to get closer to him (that’s a pretty big if) I think he’d do fucking anything for him, just like his wife.

He would raze the GiW to the ground for his boy.

They’d do alright probably. Nothing special, but it’d work out ok: Scarecrow, Ivy & Harley, Two-Face, Killer Croc.

Scarecrow is, funnily enough, not that bad. Like, is he genuinely deranged? Yes. Is he murderous and cruel? Yes. Does he have a moral compass that would absolutely support taking care of a child? Yes.

He’s been shown multiple times to genuinely care for people, even if it’s in his own way. Like, yeah, maybe fear-gas-themed murder and torture is a bit far sometimes, but it’s what he knows how to do.

Like, would he know how to take care of a kid? Hell no. But he does have a pretty good list of what not to do, courtesy of his own childhood, so he’d have a pretty alright start.

Ivy and Harley aren’t rated higher because I just don’t think they’d really be responsible enough for a child. I don’t doubt that they’d be able to love Danny, nor that they love each other, but they’re not very stable, and they don’t have a very good grasp on normalcy.

Like, they’d be incredibly cool aunts, or family friends, or something. I just don’t think that they’d do well being the sole guardians of a child or teenager.

I can’t stress this enough, I think they would genuinely love having Danny with all their hearts. I just don’t think that love alone is enough.

Avoiding that genuinely depressing thought, I think Two-Face would similarly be an awesome uncle to have, but wouldn’t do well at the actual “parenting” thing.

Like, he could keep a kid alive no problem, and he’d probably be awesome to have as a legal guardian and stuff, but there’s no way in hell he’d be able to keep Danny in line, for the sole reason of not really seeing a reason to.

However, if he got put in Arkham, he’d 100% not be above guilt-tripping Bruce into taking Danny in, so he does have backup options.

Killer Croc would be an awesome friend to Danny, but that man is in no way capable of being a parent.

He’s got a pretty short temper, and Danny is a little shit. There’d definitely be fighting. A lot of fighting. Croc still gets some points though because he’s a decent guy and I don’t doubt that he’d be willing to get help from the other rogues or even Batman should he need it.

Shouldn’t be trusted to keep a gerbil alive, yet are somehow still better at this than Maddie and Jack: The Riddler, Solomon Grundy

The Riddler is a childish, egotistical asshole with a bit of a god complex and a truckload of emotional baggage.

That being said, he’d still do better than Danny’s actual parents.

Partly because the bar is so low.

Like yeah, there’d be a lot of arguing, but I don’t think that he’d actually ever fight fight with Danny, mostly because he’d feel like he was turning into his father.

For the most part he’d be at the same level as Scarecrow or Killer Croc, I just put him lower because I think he’d forget to feed Danny sometimes. Still not as bad as the food coming alive to attack him though.

Solomon Grundy is pretty similar to Killer Croc in terms of how I think he and Danny would get along, I just think he’d be much worse at getting the things Danny needs to live and be happy.

He’d be cool as a weird uncle, or a friend, but he’d be pretty awful at being an actual parent.

The house is on fire, god is dead: Mad Hatter, Ra’s Al Ghul

Mad Hatter would have UNIMAGINABLE levels of beef with Danny. He would unironically throw hands with a child.

That being said, I think he’d genuinely like Danny.

Wouldn’t make up for anything, but I do think he’d at least not hate him.

Ra’s would be funny as hell no matter what.

He’d ALSO have unimaginable beef with Danny, but for entirely different reasons. He would spend all his time trying to convince Danny to become a member of the LOA and also to turn him fully immortal. Danny would buy him a “world’s okayest dad” mug and “I’m not the dad who stepped up” shirt. They would try to beat each other to death over Damian.

Danny would still probably choose him over Vlad in a heartbeat.

Getting dissected would have unironically been a better option: Joker

Your homework today is to watch Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker.

Because I know you won’t, I’m just gonna tell you that Joker has done some MK Ultra shit to a child before in order to mold it into a mini version of himself, and he’d absolutely do it again.

One of them would absolutely end up dead, and considering their track records, I’m not so sure it would be Joker.

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #catwoman isn’t on here because she would just give him to bruce immediately #on the bright side if Joker ever obtained another child through dubious means I don’t doubt that Harley and Ivy would beat him to death #honestly out of everyone here I think being adopted by two-face would be the most fun by far #like mr. freeze would be a lot better at being an actual parent but two-face would be fun as hell #also scarecrow would just straight up murder someone for bullying Danny this man is not above killing kids if they’re being dicks #he’s literally done the slasher routine for some girl after she found out her friends all hated her and he’d do it again #the penguin would kill for Danny too I just don’t think he’d kill kids #older teens are up for debate however

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your-local-grubdog · 9 months

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Wait actually can we talk about Leaflings real fast. Because. What the actual fuck.

Also sorry if I curse a lot more here than usual but like 90% of my genuine reactions to this topic is "what the FUCK" so uhh get used to it I guess.

Huge thanks to @saihahas for helping me with some image transcripts as well.

Major story spoilers below you have been warned. Ok let's go.

So you're able to just rise from the dead in pikmin 4. No, seriously. You can do that.

At the end of Olimar's side story we get this scene and associated line:

[Image transcript: White text on a black screen that says "But at that very moment, my life support system failed" END TRANSCRIPT]

Like. He died. His life support system failed. He DIED. And moments later, he was revived as a leafling. He died and came back from the dead. Like, what the fuck????

It even fixed up his injuries he got prior to becoming a leafling. Just a full on revival.

Image transcript (one leads into the other naturally)

Collin: By the by, Olimar, is there anything you remember from right before or after you became a leafling? Any additional details?

Olimar: Not particularly. It didn't feel bad or anything like that. In fact, it was quite revitalizing.

Olimar: My chronically stiff shoulders and all the injuries I'd sustained during my explorations healed immediately.

Yonny: Hmm... Perhaps leafification has highly restorative effects...

Yonny: This is definitely something worth looking into, eheheh. END OF TRANSCRIPT.

Now we don't know if everyone who was a leafling had to die before hand, though there is a common thread that they were at least unconscious... And had just escaped deadly situations... I think Olimar found them moments before they died and, not knowing any other way to save them, leafed them as well. Something they bear no ill will towards him for - in fact, they're thankful for him.

Image transcript:

Jin: When I was leafified, I could not stop thinking about the art of Dandori. It was like an endless meditation.

Jin: A leafling appeared in front of me after the ship crashed and I had used up all of my flagging energy.

Jin: My intuition told me they were not a bad person. I also felt as though they were determined to achieve something

Jin: I am afraid I do not recall much of what happened after that, as I lost consciousness. END TRANSCRIPT.

Image transcript:

Corgwin: I was attacked by a creature, and right before I lost consciousness, I saw something overhead. It was a leafling

Corgwin: They had such sad eyes, but there was more going on in there. Their eyes were full of determination.

Corgwin: I have to believe there is a reason why they do what they do. Turning castaways into leaflings, I mean.

Corgwin: Your time is limited, so think it through! END TRANSCRIPT.

Image transcript:

Bernard: You need anything else?

Bernard: Even when Olimar was leafed out, he was still trying to RESCUE folks!

Bernard: And there I was with my head focused on nothing but Dandori stuff. HOO, he's one tough cookie!

Bernard: You need anything else? END TRANSCRIPT.

Ok Bernard's conversation doesn't add to the "he found them in deadly situations" point but it DOES show that all of his "victims" think highly of him for the fact that he had saved them and others. (Also, side note, Olimar had sad eyes... Poor bastard thought he was never going home to his wife and kids, was visibly depressed over this, and STILL was trying to save people. Olimar is like, genuinely such a good fucking person God damn.)

Now being a leafling is undead and comes with its own slew of problems. Namely, the fact Dandori takes over your brain (probably the pikmin survival instinct) and the fact you can no longer leave PNF-404. It's not even an air thing, it's not being on the planet that causes sickness, so not even spacesuits can fix it.

But then you're able to cure yourself of being a leafling. And just. Go back? To your normal life?????? Like nothing ever happened. You died and came back. What the fuck.

And to make that point worse. One of the key ingredients is Glow Sap. Which is produced by the Luminknolls. The only other thing the Luminknolls make is uh. Glow pikmin. Which.

“Although they've been named Glow Pikmin, it's not entirely clear whether or not this species is actually a type of Pikmin. These creatures possess the same fundamental behaviors of Pikmin, like carrying things, propagating, and fighting. They also share special characteristics, such as the leaf atop their head. Yet they do not spawn from an Onion but a Lumiknoll, and they are only active at night or underground. During the day, they revert into seeds and enter a resting state. What's even more surprising is that they exhibit no signs of life. When a Glow Pikmin "dies," if that word can even be used, it does not expire in the typical sense. Instead, it just becomes a form of light-or perhaps a photon-and returns to the Lumiknoll. Putting aside my "scientist" hat for a moment...it seems to me that this creature or entity may not be a living organism at all but some manner of spiritual substance.”

[Image Transcript: a screenshot of the Piklopedia showing the very end of the above quote. END TRANSCRIPT]

And just as some icing on the cake:

[Image transcript: Louie's piklopedia notes on the glow pikmin. All it says is "Doesn't smell alive." END TRANSCRIPT]

Cool they're fucking ghosts. Sorry I can't be convinced otherwise, they're clearly some sort of supernatural entity at MINIMUM. I just think spirit is most likely. They don't have to be the spirits of dead pikmin... Although... You can convert a Glow Pikmin into normal pikmin via a candy pop bud. I've done it before, I have no video of it but you can go and try it yourself if you'd like. And if they are spirits of pikmin then that means that we can also bring pikmin back from the dead. What the FUCK.

Anyways. I got side tracked sorry. My point was the Luminkolls make two things: Glow Sap and Glow Pikmin, which have similar names and similar appearances and. Are we using ghost juice to cure leaflings???? Which is used to reverse all negatives of being leafed. Which can be used to bring the dead back to life.

I don't know how to end this. I really really don't know how to end this. I just need someone else to scream about this with because it's so. It's so fucking WEIRD like what the hell. It's not enough that they may be humans, noooo, there's also undead creatures (excluding the mushroom guys those freaks have an explanation at the very least). This game is weird as hell but tbh I love it.

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #borb screams

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variousxreader · 6 months

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Puggy Buggy

Domestic Head canons and general comparing Buggy to a Pug

Like a Pug his bark is worse than his bite. His screams could be compared to this.

Man SNORES like a pug and bull dog mix from hell

Loud dad bed shaking snores.

You swear the bitch has sleep apnea.

You literally have to smack him awake or manhandle his ass into a better position for him to breathe in.

Jerks awake with loud ass snorts when you kick or smack him awake. You only do it when you're worried he's gonna suffocate so he's never mad about it; he'll pull you to his chest and snuggle you and mummer a "sorry" before falling asleep again

If his snores just wont let you sleep, you'll wake him up in more pleasant ways. Lay on his chest, he has an automatic cuddle response that he'll wrap his arms around you, and drag you into Him, changing his position to do so.

But at this point his snores are white noise to you.

You actually can't sleep well without hearing him, its too quiet without him snorting and snoring away next to you.

Buggy is also a dog in the way that he has been asleep and Farted so loud he scared himself awake and nearly fell out of bed

You nearly pissed yourself laughing at him for that.

He was so fucking embarrassed but eventually your infectious laugh sent him into his own fit of giggles till you both had tears in your eyes, and you personally got to the point of laughing like a strangled seal.

Mohji and Cabaji ran to check to make sure you both weren't dying because you were both cackling so loud.

You and Buggy had residual giggles for a day after

Man Has Dad™️ Sneezes

Also Burps so goddamn loud and long and is Proud of it.

You egg each other on. Complimenting each others burps and challenging eachother. You are pirates after all.

Richie has you both beat though.

Def gets a distended Stomach after a feast and bingeing. You pat and smack it gently. He swats at you for it. But if he gets a tummy ache he'll BEG and plead for you to rub his belly till he feels better while his head is in your lap or on your chest.

DRUNK BUGGY is something

The man can handle his booze but there is a LINE and he can and will cross it on rare occasions. He regrets it every time.

Shit Faced, plastered, Sloshed Buggy, is a whole other LEVEL

He cannot stand and walk on his own,

You also better be keeping track of potentially detached body parts. Though they're very slow when he's this trashed.

He has to be touching you, HAS TO BE

You literally have to hold his dick so he can piss straight.

Will throw up before the night is over. Hold him so he doesn't go over board.

He lives in the latrine after that point.

You're holding his hair and rubbing his back. The whole nine yards.

If you manage to carry his ass to bed when he cannot puke anymore, you better prepare for the next day.

Water water water.

Hes so fucking dehydrated.

Who left him in Alabasta overnight?

His head is pounding. Is it attached to his body for is it in a barrel in a hurricane? He does not know.

You're gonna be babying him all day.

You thought he was pathetic before?

Oh Honey.

He gives new meaning to the word when he is this hungover.

You gotta wait on him hand and foot.

He'll cry out all the water you put into him.

Hes a fun drunk, but majorly depressed when it comes to BAD hangovers

With your TLC though he'll be cured the next day and beg you to never ever let him get that fucked again.

He worships the ground you walk on 100000x more after that.

The man will literally do anything for you. Not even within reason.

Want him to get you a pet sea king? He'll find a way.

Want him to send a buggy ball at the Marine hQ? He'll find a way.

Literally anything.

---

This has gotten massive so imma end it here!

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece x reader

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depravitymoon · 7 months

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My favorite Yandere Types

Author's note: I will spare you the sob story and just say that my uncle needed my help right after he got out the hospital. It wrecked my scheduling and I already promised that I would do better with posting more frequently, so I did another ramble post. These classifications aren't polished in any way. I just spouted whatever comes to mind. Enjoy!

Note #2: Sorry if the pic for Laidback Yan is blurry. I'll figure out how to do memes better next time. Also, all the yanderes listed are male yandere because that's my personal favorite.

Sugar Daddies

Kind of a "money comes at a price" thing I always love.

Pro: Spoils you.

Con: Thinks he owns your life.

Personally, I'm not a fan of the 'I'll isolate you' types. In fact, I think it'll be cooler to see a yandere use darling's loved ones to his advantage, such as "How desperate are you to get your sister into that art school?" and "It would be a shame if your brother doesn't have that dream job. I'm sure you'd do ANYTHING to make that happen if you could, right?"

Sadist/Psycho

He wakes up and chooses violence. Just an absolute menace to society. You'd have to make bad choices in your life to have him obsessed with you. I love this one, because writers can be very creative on how they act towards darling and towards the world. Typically their MO is "I wont hesitate to beat and shoot people. Not even you, darling! You just get it less."

Femboy/Otouto

My love for this is clearly inspired by Narancia (JJBA) and Bachira (Blue Lock). It's a guy who's naive, hyper, sweet, just so adorable that he'll have you thinking he's non-threatening. Then, the yanderu comes out and shows you just how dangerous and manipulative he can be. Also, he will get aggressive when you try slipping from him. I imagine this type always using overt guilt tripping.

Mr.Hades

Emo boy kidnaps a ball of sunshine to cure his lonely depression, such as Hades taking Persephone. There's not much else to say since this shipping dynamic (brooding x happy-go-lucky) is very popular.

Laidback

The laidback yandere that dont seem Yandere at all. He's super chill, actually gives you freedoms, and seems alright letting you socialize with people. What's the issue? Seems like a normal boyfriend! That's why I love them! So where does the Yanderu part comes in? In many different ways! Usually, in the form of a blackmailer or a tracker. It's easy to let you do what you want when you're never really that far from him or he has you fearing the consequence enough to trust you'll come back to him willingly. Honestly, I might do my own post on laidback yanderes.

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #ramblings #rough draft #dark content #dark romance #yandere types #yandere theory

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tarirose · 1 year

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I Have Nothing Left

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

This is a little story to @kawaii-chanxd art! I absolutely adored it, and it broke my heart a bit. Please go check it out!

Warnings: Spoilers! Mention of harm, death. Just sadness.

The end of fifth year was approaching and coming to an end. In your short time at Hogwarts, you had become inseparable with both Sebastian Sallow, and Ominis Gaunt. Your time there had just spiralled, and lost control. For Sebastian, he couldn’t wait to leave. Hoping to never return. Even if it meant he would be all alone, in Feldcroft.

Your year started out magnificent, you made so many new friends, had so many great adventures. But one thing would always stick to you. Your biggest regret. The downfall of Sebastian.

His obsession with dark magic, had left him a shell of the man he used to be. He was always happy, flirty, confident. Invited you to duels, would sneak around the castle with you past curfew. He would always make you laugh, stand up for you, if you got in trouble. You had become attracted to him. Now, it was like he was empty. No emotions. No life.

Sebastian was unrecognisable. You watched him succumb into a dark path. Ominis had tried to warn you multiple times, over and over, to watch out for him. Put an end to his search for a cure. But something inside of you, made you want to stick by Sebastian. You remember the day so vividly. Just two words changed everything so quickly.

He began to lose most, if not all of his close friends. With the death of his uncle, Anne not wanting anything to do with him anymore, never being able to forgive him for what he had done and caused. He was alone. Ominis never forgot what he did. He had tried telling Sebastian, time and time again, that he was going too far. In time, it pushed Ominis away.

He thought he at least had you. He thought you would always be there for him. You were the only person, who at least believed in him. Always stood by his side, even fought his own uncle with him. Just to protect Sebastian from getting hurt. But Sebastian, he pushed you away. You were the last person left he wanted to hurt. He thought you would understand him, why he did what he had to do. And in a way, you did. You defended his actions, told him it was self defence. But even in your mind, this was all too much.

Since it all happened, Sebastian was always seen alone. He was always seen with either you, or Ominis. But now, he was always alone. Most of his time was spent either in the Undercroft, since he knew that both you and Ominis would never set foot in there again, or he would relax under the stars, late at night in the Astronomy Tower. Which also happened to be your favourite place.

It was another lonely evening for Sebastian. He knew at this time, most places would be quiet and unoccupied. He was making his way over to the Undercroft, when he spotted you, sitting alone, your head buried into your hands. Sebastian walked over to you, placing himself next to you on the bench you were currently crying on. He went to reach your hands, making sure that you were at least okay. Even though he wasn’t.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sebastian asked, his hand lingering over yours, seeing the tears trying to escape from your own hands.

You just ignored his question, falling into even more silence.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked, only this time, his brows were furrowed by your deafening silence.

You quickly snatched your hand away from his, lifting your teary eyes to meet his own. You could see the sadness, and depression that had taken over Sebastian’s own face, staring into you. You could see the guilt that had started to eat away at him. It hurt you to see him like this. See the man he had become. But you couldn’t bare to be around him any longer.

You wiped your eyes with your robe, gathering the book that lay next to you. Getting yourself up and walking away from him. Sebastian just stared at you, watching you walk away. Tears began filling up in his own eyes. This was the breaking point for him, he no longer had anyone in his life. You were the last person to leave him. Everyone he even considered to be close, or a friend, was gone. All because of the choices he had made. There was no way any of you would ever be able to forgive him, and he knew that. But he had hoped that at least one of you would of given him a chance.

You were his last hope. You no longer wanted any kind of social interaction with him, no longer craved the attention he would provide you. He felt like the most isolated, unloved wizard alive. He wanted it to end. The misery, the pain, the loneliness. His entire existence.

He wanted to run after you, pull you into an embrace, and apologise for everything he had done. Everything he had put you through. He had led you down this dark path with him. He wanted to apologise for pushing you all away. All he wanted to do was save his sister. And now, he had lost you all.

Sebastian had put a stop to dark magic, once and for all. Swore to never use it again. He had made a promise to you the last time you spoke, that he would end it. That he would never hurt anyone ever again. But maybe, he could could use it one last time. And end all of this suffering.

A few days later, you saw Sebastian, alone, as always, making his way to the Undercroft. He looked like a ghost of his former self. Like he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in months, like he spent most days, most nights, crying. Harming himself in anyway he could, to punish himself. He looked like a man who had given up on everything, given up on life.

You watched him disappear around the corner, knowing where he was going. You decided to wait a few minutes before following him. You knew you had to distance yourself from him, for your own sake. But there was a part of you, that felt guilt rushing through you, the guilt of ignoring him, abandoning him, when he really needed a friend. Really needed you. Maybe you were more than friends, but right now, all he needed was a shoulder to cry on. A hug. Anything to tell him it was all going to be okay.

You made your way into the Undercroft, it was dark, no candles were lit. It felt lonely. Everytime you had been in there, you had nothing but good memories. But the sight in front of you, it left your heart feeling heavy and broken.

Sebastian was sat on the floor, bawling his eyes out, releasing loud sobs, his wand sat shaking in his hand. His robes hanging off his shoulders, his hair unkept and messy. Panic ran through your veins, he was about to do something. And you knew it was going to end bad.

Sebastian raised his wand, pointing it directly at his temple, still visibly shaking and distraught. This was all he wanted. For all the pain and suffering to finally be over. His lips began to part, tears falling down his own cheeks, his hand gripping his wand tighter to steady himself and his aim, so that he didn’t miss.

“Avada-“

“EXPELLIARMUS!” You screamed, aiming your wand at his, before he could finish his own spell.

Sebastian’s wand flew out of his hands. You watched him fall down completely defenceless to the floor. He cradled his knees up to his beaten face. Tears steaming down your own cheeks at the sight in front of you. How did it get this far? You just watched him, try to take his own life. You watched in heartbreak as he laid hopelessly in a ball, on the stone, cold floor.

You ran over to him, crumbling down onto your knees, pulling him into an embrace into your chest. Sobbing into his messy brown locks. His own tears soaking up your clothes. You couldn’t place down the emotions you were currently feeling.

“Sebastian…” You whimpered, placing a gentle kiss into his hair. This wasn’t the Sebastian you knew. You wanted the old Sebastian back. “Why? Why would you do this?”

Sebastian just wrapped his arms around you, burying his head deeper into your clothes, endlessly sobbing over and over. He was a stumbling, shaking, crumb of a man in your arms. He was vulnerable. All you could do was hold him, stroking his hair, rubbing circles over his back.

He tried to get up after awhile, he was completely drained. Every part of him, all of his energy, had just given up. “Please, please don’t leave me.” Sebastian whispered, sobbing in between each word. His eyes pleading with yours. He had no effort or energy to argue with you. He needed some reassurance, some hope, some affection, as to why he should continue to exist.

A part of you wanted to push him away, shove him off you, raise your voice at him for thinking that using the killing curse on himself was the only, and best option of a means to escape.

But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t be mad at the man in front of you.

“I’m sorry-“ Sebastian said, fists clutched into your robes. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

“Sebastian, please don’t be sorry. Not right now.”

“I understand that you hate me, I don’t blame you for that, and I understand that you all want nothing to do with me anymore, but please. Please, don’t leave me right now. I beg you.” He looked so disarrayed, so broken, so tired. So distraught.

Sebastian just broke down again. Falling straight back into your arms. He was desperate for any of attention. He had bottled up how he felt for so long. The loneliness had consumed him.

“Sebastian, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I just hate the path you chose. I couldn’t just forgive you for what you did, none of us could. We’ve all had to live with this as much as you, it’s been hard on all of us. I stuck by your side, through it all. I couldn’t continue to watch you go down this path. I had to distance myself from you. But this? This isn’t the answer.” Sebastian wanted to say something, but you interrupted him before he could speak up.

“Did you really think this was your only option? Did you not stop to think about the people who care about you?”

“No one car-“

“We all care! I care Sebastian!” You raised your voice, tears beginning to rebuild over your face.

“Y/N, I’ve blamed myself everyday for what happened. It was all my fault. I’ve lost everyone, don’t you understand that? What else am I supposed to do? I have nothing. I have no one. My life is worth nothing-“ Sebastian broke down. His sobs were echoing around the room. It was heartbreaking to listen and witness.

“Sebastian, I’m here. I’ve always been here. I’ve watched you everyday, I’ve watched you succumb into what you are now. Your life is worth living. You need to forgive yourself. Give the people around you time to heal. This, this hurts, it hurts so bad. What can I do? What can I do to help you?”

“Please, Sebastian. Let me help you. Please.” You were desperate. Desperate to fix the broken man laying defeated in your arms.

“I should of never set out to hurt any of you. That was never my intention. And I’m sorry that I put you through this pain again. Please, let me do everything in my power to make it up to you. To all of you. Please give me a chance. I just- I just need someone. I-I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-“ Sebastian begged you.

All you could do was hold him tightly in your arms, placing kisses on top of his hair. Reassuring him that in time, it will all get better. You made a promise to him, that you would remain by his side. That you would try your hardest to bring back the old Sebastian. And that was a promise well kept, everyday. Sebastian knew this, knew that you weren’t going to give up on him.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine

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crazyvaleska · 1 year

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Listen To Me | Jerome Valeska x GN! Reader

summary: you are jerome's psychiatrist at arkham asylum and after years of treating him he opens up about his childhood trauma

genre: angst

word count: 8479 (it's a long one folks! so get comfortable and grab ur popcorn & blanket! and tissues.)

warnings: cursing, self harm, mention of sexual assault & domestic abuse, mention of death & suicide, just a lot of angst in general. read at your own risk, you've been warned.

a/n: i started writing this back in august 2022 and finished it just now. been adding small paragraphs to this story every now&then. some paragraphs were written days apart while others were written weeks apart. i'm writing this bc i feel like there aren't many angsty stories with jerome. imo jerome isn't evil but broken. also having read his diary added up a lot to his character as it's pretty depressing. perhaps everyone has a different version of a certain character. here's my version of jerome.

also i got a tiny bit inspired by the harleen graphic novel and the joker movie for this !!

the playlist i was listening to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5E2lk49zurRTAaHq3Nz7FQ?si=7TQxYHDsQ0ypPYkIvlLCpw&utm_source=copy-link

jerome's thoughts are written like this btw!

enjoy! (or don't.)

A huge amount of people would say it is impossible to become a psychiatrist at 18. That must mean they've never been to Gotham City. Here anything is possible. Therefore, you had just graduated medical highschool when you were offered a job at Arkham Asylum and you had no choice but to take it. You were aware of the risks of working in a place surrounded by criminally insane lunatics, but you didn't really have another option. You needed a job. Besides, taking risks never ever scared you. Though many viewed Arkham as a spooky place, to you it was interesting. Treating mentally unwell criminals was challenging because you liked helping people, no matter who they were.

What you didn't know was that one of the patients you would have to treat was none other than the infamous Jerome Valeska himself, probably one of the most demented and wicked being Gotham City had ever know.

Yet, you thought his character was rather fascinating. After all, you had known Jerome for years.

Jerome Valeska. How do you even begin to explain Jerome Valeska?

You first met him right after he killed his mother, the first time he was in prison. Before he died. Before he was an infamous murderer. And you had to admit, he did become more intimidating as years passed by.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about him at first, same old story about the son committing matricide. Though, he never told you the entire story. You noticed he was uncomfortable and you didn't want to push, everybody had their boundaries and you respected that.

If you had to describe in one word the way he was acting in his firsts therapy sessions, you would use the word "flirty". Sort of. A mix of charisma and inappropriate jokes.

He told you he didn't plan on killing anyone else, claiming that the murdering of his mother was something personal. For some reason, you chose to believe him. Until Theo Galavan happened. It was like the Jerome you once knew had completely vanished. He was the same and a different person at the same time. You almost felt sorry for him. But then again, you weren't supposed to get attached to your patients. Jerome was charming and all, but he probably didn't feel the same way you did. He was just a kid after all, and so were you. Both 18. The only difference was, you were trying to cure insanity while he was trying to spread it.

A few days later he died. Actually, was murdered. Poor thing, you thought. You wished you had more time to know him. You wished you could've helped him. You knew small parts about him but not his entire story.

You had hoped you would forget him as time flew by, but you didn't. His evil crackle never left your dreams. It was always there. You could hear it all the time, as if he was trying to reach you. It was torturing you. Yet pleasant at the same time. You missed him, truth be told. But you knew he was in a better place now. Or so you thought.

That was until he was resurrected. Being honest, you weren't exactly surprised. This was Gotham City, after all. Everything was possible in Gotham. The actual shock was seeing him faceless and unconscious. You wondered how much strength does one require in order to be able to staple their face without passing out. Jerome's pain tolerance was so high, it concerned you.

By the time the ginger maniac was sent back to the Asylum, his face had been attached back to its place. He was hideously scarred now, wearing a permanent disturbingly bright smile. Although, to you he looked fine. Somehow attractive. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was simply your questionable taste in men. At the same time, he was much more intimidating now, much more grown. And as a result to him dying by being stabbed in the throat, his voice had also changed. It sounded more threatening now.

"It's good to have you back, Jerome!" you said in his first therapy appointment of the year, a warm, kind smile on painted on your lips.

His reply came out natural, "Well, at least someone missed me." but his face was expressionless and emotionless, and his voice numb, as if he had lost his spark.

To most, he was simply just out of his mind, a low-life criminal, but you felt there was more than that. You desperately wanted to know what made him the way he was, what made him turn to a life of crime, because you knew no one was born evil, not even in a city like Gotham (though he wasn't born in Gotham) it was usually the environment that could cause one's insanity. And you could see it in his eyes: he wasn't born bad. He was shaped evil, but not born evil. But then again, anyone could go insane with just one bad day.

Jerome was very charismatic, he could get anyone do whatever he wanted. Nevertheless, he was an amazing liar, you couldn't ever tell when he was speaking the truth and when he wasn't. He didn't seem to care about the way others felt and showed lack of remorse, he was impulsive and manipulative, deceitful and reckless. He was extremely narcissistic and showed lack of empathy towards others, and you had diagnosed him with Psychopathy Cluster B Personality Disorders and Schizophrenia. The ginger was on different medications. Sometimes he didn't take them, other times he did and not only his, but others' as well . You had told him multiple times how that was no good for him, but he never listened.

The thing about Jerome was, you never knew what he would be like in your therapy sessions. Sometimes you felt like you knew Jerome, but did you really? Oftentimes his behavior was passive aggressive, other times he would crack up jokes and you actually enjoyed his company, getting lost into his mesmerizing hazel eyes, as if you two were actually friends. Most of the times he just stayed quiet though, especially if you mentioned his family. Sure, he had no problem talking about killing innocents but once you switched the subject to the murdering of his mom, for example, he would tilt his head and pretend he didn't hear you or just say the same old story about her being mean, but you suspected it wasn't just that, you could see it in his eyes that part of him was still... hurt? His eyes spoke volumes. Although he always tried to hide it by pretending to be a God, deep down he hated himself. But of course he didn't want anyone else to know that, he didn't want to be seen as weak. Not anymore. He knew better than that. You noticed this thing about Jerome, he tried to act unbothered all the time but he always did this head tilting thing whenever he felt uncomfortable. Sure, Jerome was always surrounded by people, mostly his followers, but being around people doesn't mean you actually trust them. And you couldn't blame him for having trust issues considering he was stabbed to death by the only person he ever trusted. You could only imagine the feeling of betrayal he felt. That must have been traumatizing, but he had never ever addressed it.

One rainy Thursday the young Valeska told you he was upset because there wasn't any pudding left at the cafeteria. So the following day, Friday, you came up with an idea that could get you killed, but it was worth a try.

It was getting dark, your shift was over and you were supposed to go home. But instead of heading towards the Asylum's exit you found yourself walking towards its core, towards one certain inmate's cell, inmate E-146's cell: Jerome's cell. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous, because you were. You didn't have anything to defend yourself on you. If anything, you were aware you were walking towards something that could be mean your sudden death.

You did have to pay bribe to the prison wardens that guarded his cell. They warned you about the homicidal redhead, but you liked to believe you weren't scared of him. To you, Jerome wasn't scary-looking. What really scared you was his mind. You had read his criminal record thus you knew what he was capable of. Even though you tried to tell yourself he won't hurt you, truth was you had no idea what he'd do or say, he was unpredictable.

First time you stepped foot in his cell was an experience you weren't going to forget anytime soon. The room was smaller than you though it would be. Not that you were expecting any kind of luxury. But this was worse than anything you had ever imagined. The first thing you noticed was the extremely low temperature, it was bone-chilling. No wonder why Jerome sounded sick all the time. Four gray walls and a dark ceiling that looked like it could collapse over you at any given moment. A bed for one person that was placed next to a prison porthole and near it a small, cheap table with an old chair in front of it. The smell wasn't very welcoming either, you thought rats were the only thing missing from the picture.

Jerome didn't notice you initially, he was busy writing in something that appeared to be a notebook. You cleared your throat loudly, which made him jump. You caught him off guard, quite literally. He looked equally shocked and confused to see you.

"Whatcha doing here, doc?" the redhead asked as he sat up. He placed the pencil down and closed his book, then took small steps closer to you. Only now that you were both standing up at the same time you noticed how tall he actually was. In the therapy room, his arms were always folded together in a shinny white straightjacket that prevented him from harming the doctor before him. You had actually never seen Jerome with his arms free so close to you before. He was wearing his stripped prison uniform instead of that tight straightjacket and you could tell he was way more muscular than you thought, his hands were enormous, he could knock you out in a second. His looks should've alarmed you but for some reason they didn't. Actually, you were happy to see his body looked healthy. Everybody said he looked like a nightmare, but to you he was the opposite. You shook your head quickly trying not to think of that or anything potentially inappropriate.

You hitched your breath nervously as you took a few steps back. "I told you already, you can call me Y/N... Uh, yesterday you said there wasn't any pudding left for you so I thought I would...um ... I... well," you stuttered while searching for something in your bag. The man raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. You reached your hand out, holding a bowl of chocolate pudding, "I-I... I made it myself! And I paid the guards to leave..." you said in a low murmur.

The unsurety in your voice didn't go unnoticed and it made Jerome grin. He walked even closer to you and crossed his arms while nodding, "That's so brave of you, Y/N! But you do realize I could poke your eyeballs out and squash you like a bug right about.... now!" he hissed. The next thing you felt was your chin being lifted up by his gloved hand, holding it in a tight grip, forcing you to face him. You avoided looking directly into his eyes so you just stared at his hand. Unfortunately for you, that seemed to bother him, "My eyes are up here," he used his free hand to point at his eyes.

The fabric of his white glove was soft but his touch was aggressive and harsh, the clutch on your chin was hard, "... I just... I just came here to give you this, nothing more." At first, Jerome was very sceptical, not believing any of it. He even thought the pudding was poisoned and insisted on you having a try before he did. The rest was history.

That happened approximately one year prior. You had spent the last 12 months seeing Jerome 2 times a week: one time during his therapy appointments every Thursday, the other time every Friday night, when most of the Asylum's staff had gone home. You had stolen they keys to his prison cell and no one knew about your late at night meetings with the clown prince.

The first times everything was pretty awkward, Jerome used to search your bag and pockets for any sharp objects that you could potentially use against him. But with time he stopped doing that. Approximately after 6 months.

You mostly brought him food, especially sweets, Jerome loved candies but he wasn't allowed to eat those in prison. Sometimes you even played cards with him and he would win every game, the boy knew how to play the jokers, that's certain. He did make inappropriate jokes from time to time, but nothing that made you too uncomfortable. He never touched you or anything like that. Everything stayed platonic.

One time you attached a colorful self-made bracelet to his wrist. You had a similar one on yours. Jerome pretend he didn't like it, telling you that friendship jewels were a waste, but truth be told, he liked it, he wore it all the time, he liked playing with it beads. Of course, he made sure it stayed hidden underneath his sleeve. He didn't want anyone else to see him like that. He had a reputation to uphold. Thus sometimes he would threaten your life in a playful manner just because he was Jerome Valeska.

You had also noticed the ginger was great at arts and crafts so you brought him crayons. Lots of them. The previous week you even brought him a scissors after he had begged you to for weeks. He promised he wasn't going to hurt other prisoners with it. He was using those to draw and decorate his diary. You knew he had a personal journal that he had never showed you. But you were cool with that. Though you wished he could open up to you, you didn't want to push, you wanted him to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he had to. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to help him get better. You didn't feel that way about other patients. Obviously, you wanted to help them too, but with Jerome it was different. Not that you would ever admit it out loud, but you had grown some sort of crush on the maniac. You knew how wrong that was, but you couldn't help the way he made you feel everytime his eyes met yours or when he smiled at you. You came to the realization that Jerome wasn't half as bad unless he was surrounded by other loonies or by people he despised. He was quite chill aside from his maniacally laughter.

Although Jerome didn't own a watch, he simply knew what time you were supposed to show up. In fact, he had actually grown to like your little visits. At first he found all of this annoying and irritating, but with time he changed his mind. You weren't so bad after all. Actually, he was waiting impatiently each of your visits. You were nice to him. Not a lot of people were nice to him. Nobody, actually. Just you.

Therefore you being late one certain night didn't go unnoticed. Strange, Jerome thought at first. You had never been late before. Was this all? Did you spend all that time with him only to leave him like that? Did you replace him with another patient? Did you get bored of him? Did something bad happen to you, perhaps?

Jerome shook his head. He didn't like to picture you dead. Why was that? He loved everything about death and killing, blood and gore. Why did it bother him now? He promised himself he wouldn't get attached. No, no, Jerome Valeska didn't give a shit about anyone. He was heartless. A monster. Everybody said so, so then it must be true. So what if you died? Who cared? Not him, that's for sure. Yeah.

But then, why had he been walking circles in his small cell for minutes? Why was he breathing heavier and why did he have an awful gut feeling? And now how did he find himself in this position again? Sitting on his bed, facing the wall with teary eyes, clinching his fists anxiously and twiddling his trembling thumbs. There were drops of dark red blood on his already dirty mattress. Drops of blood between the beads of his bracelet. When did that happen? He could vividly remember when he started pressing the scissors down his wrist. It all happened so fast. He didn't even apply much pressure and yet he had managed to draw enough blood to cover his fingertips. How did he end up like this? Like a sobbing mess. Why did you do this to him? Why did you give him hope? He should've known better. Humans are deceitful beings. They lie and they never keep their promises. One day they love you, the next they don't need you anymore. So he really didn't learn anything from trusting Theo Galavan after all. He remembered it as clear as day. He thought he could finally be happy when Theo came along, gave him a proper bed and proper clothes. He was like the father he never had. But then his life flashed before his eyes as he dropped dead by the hand of the one man he thought was trustworthy.

Oh, dear ol' Jerome. Getting attached to the first person to treat him like a normal human being again. So all those times you took care of him were all on act. Of course. Why was he so stupid? Stupid enough to think anyone would ever care about him. Of course it was all a lie. He hated you. This was pathetic. Everyone was pathetic. Crying was pathetic. Crying was for the weak. Jerome wasn't weak. Not anymore. But what if, perhaps, you weren't even real? What if he had been imagining you the whole time? After all, it was all too good to be true. But maybe that's just the way life is: it hits you harder than a train truck, then you feel good for a while because you start doing things that distract you from how you truly feel, killings in his case. But then you realize you weren't ever really happy, just delusional and that makes you depressed again. It's like a never ending loop.

The boy shivered at his own thoughts. So many questions at the same time. His mind was suffocating him. But he liked it, didn't he? Or maybe did he just trick himself into thinking he liked it? He liked being sick, right? Who was he without his sickness? Pills. He needed more pills. The pills were never enough. If only he had enough pills to...

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the very familiar sound of his creaky door being unlocked then opened. Jerome knew this could mean one thing. He quickly wiped his teary eyes with his knuckles then clothed his fingers with his gloves. He cleared his throat, "Where were you?" he asked, his voice harsher than ever. He didn't want you to see him vulnerable. He tried to hide it. He didn't want to admit not even to himself he was somewhat worried. But, in fact, he had grown very fond of you. He wasn't sure why, he wasn't sure what he felt towards you. There's a very thin line between love and obsession. All in all, part of him was relieved once he heard your voice.

"I'm sorry, Jerome. I had some things to take care of. Things that involve you, actually," you closed the door behind you and took a few steps forward.

The last sentence got Jerome's attention so naturally he turned his head around to look at you. His stare was so intense it seemed like he was staring directly into your soul. His hazel eyes were so beautiful yet so terrifying, you couldn't stare at them for too long. The dark circles under his eyes were darker than ever and you wondered if he ever slept. It was your job to help him get better but it seemed that he was getting worse everyday, like he was losing himself therefore you were failing. But you had to pull him out of his misery. You had to.

"You threatened Oswald Cobblepot," Jerome couldn't help but snicker proudly at your remark before you could continue your sentence "And you also took his medicine. How many times have I told you that taking meds you don't need only makes things worse?" you paused but the boy didn't reply. He knew it was bad, he just couldn't help himself. You sighed "They want to change your therapist, Jerome. They don't think I'm doing a good job with you."

Jerome's face dropped, "As in you'll be replaced?" he asked and you nodded. No, this wasn't possible. You were lying, you had to be. First you're late, now this. The redhead jumped out of his bed and walked up to you, "You're lying."

"Jerome-" you started but he didn't let you finish.

"Don't you dare to Jerome me. You're an hour late and now you're telling me you wanna get rid of me?" his tone went from numb to mad in a matter of seconds.

"I'm so sorry for the waiting, I'll try my best to keep you. I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die."

That only made Jerome crackle in an ironic manner "Oh please, Y/N. Don't make promises you know you can't keep. Empty promises. You're growing tired of me. It's funny, actually. I think this may be just my luck! Jeremiah promised he wouldn't leave too, but he did anyhow. And now you."

"Who's Jeremiah? I don't know what you're talking abo..." you felt like you couldn't breathe as panick took control over your body, "...why is there blood on your gloves?"

Shit, Jerome thought. "It's paint," he smiled but you knew he was lying the moment he tried to change the subject "Jeremiah's an old acquaintance, if you will."

"I never brought you paint..." you murmured. Then you remembered what you did bring him. The scissors. "You promised you won't hurt anyone with it..." you whispered.

Jerome shrugged, "I promised I wouldn't other inmates. I never promised I wouldn't hurt... myself...!"

Your eyes opened widely at the sudden realization. You covered your mouth with your fingers and your heart was beating impossibly fast while tears were filling your eyes. It was only now that you noticed his slightly puffy eyes too, "I'm so sorry... Jerome... oh God..." you muttered. He didn't look at you until he felt your hand on his.

Jerome hesitated to speak at first, "Oh, y'know... the scissors just slipped. I'm fine, really. No need to worry about me. If anything, I like bleeding out."

You knew that wasn't true. "I'm gonna get the doctor... we need to get it patched up."

"Then they'll know you're here."

"I don't care. I'll probably lose my job anyway. You hurt yourself, Jerome. You could get an infection. Fuck, I was supposed to help you get better but I didn't do shit! Now you're bleeding and it's all because of me-" you were cut off by Jerome's gloved hand covering your mouth.

"Shh. I'm fine, Y/N. It's not that serious. It's just... I don't feel safe when my scars are healed. I need to bleed to calm myself. It's like a part of me. It's my biggest comfort."

You tried to mumble something underneath his hand which made him frown, "I don't need your pity, Y/N. You're trying to weaken me, it won't work," he moved his hand, giving you the chance to speak.

"Please, Jerome. I care about you! I won't let you hurt yourself any longer!" you cried out. It was true. You would've done anything for him and it hurt you knowing he was harming himself. He thought he had it all under control but clearly he didn't. You were scared of what he could do to himself next. You couldn't just watch him destroying himself knowing you could've helped him.

Jerome shook his head repeatedly and covered his ears with his plams while circling around the room, mumbling things to himself. Eventually, his voice got louder and louder, "NO NO NO NO NO! No, you don't, stop saying that! Cut the bullshit, Y/N! You don't care about me, no one does! Jerome has no one, Jerome's all alone! It's how it's always been. It's how it's always gonna be. What the fuck do you want from me? Look at me! I have wanted to die for as long as I can remember. And guess what? When I finally did some jerks thought it'd be funny to bring me back to this shitty life! You think you understand me, but you don't! You can't save me, you can't fix me! What have you done to me? You cracked me! Just leave me alone! Leave me alone! LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!!" he yelled as he shed a single tear.

His face turned red from all the rage and you could swear he was gonna kill you at that very moment, but he didn't. Instead, his body collapsed on the ground. He was hugging his knees while staring at the floor, with his back pressed against the cold wall. You had no clue what just happened but he looked defenseless, practically harmless right now. You knew this was risky, but you kneeled next to him then reached out your hand and caressed his shoulders which caused him to look at you. You didn't see a psychopath in his eyes anymore, just a frightened child. That wasn't the ginger maniac everybody feared. That was a poor boy stuck in his traumatic past.

"Let it out, Jerome. This is why I came here, so we could talk like 2 human beings. Help me understand you. I know I can't take your pain away, but you can talk to me," you whispered.

"I'm not a human being. I'm a monster, can't you see? Everybody fears me. I'm the monster parents tell their children about," he muttered quietly. Usually he said that proudly, but now it sounded as if he was ashamed, which was very out of character. What he felt at that very moment was confusion.

"You're not a monster, Jerome. I have this feeling that... you're misunderstood, like no one ever listened to what you had to say. I am here to listen and I promise I won't laugh or judge. But if you hold everything inside you it's only gonna get worse... Let it all out, please." you spoke in a soft murmur.

"I don't even know.... what I am supposed to say," Jerome sobbed.

"Anything that comes to mind, that upsets you, that you wanna get off your chest. What is that one thought that won't let you get rest at night? The things you always wanted to say but nobody ever listened to. The things you always tried to forget because it all hurt too much. I can see the depth and complicity of your character, Jerome. You're not evil. Your past is haunting you, isn't it? I can see it in your face, it was rough. So please, I just want to help you. And I won't tell anyone, you have my word."

The ginger glanced at you with furrowed brows, trying to keep track of his thoughts. He felt something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. He felt helpless and he didn't know why. He didn't know why he suddenly no longer felt in control. Was it because you were the first person to actually look at his wounds concerned instead of laughing? Because you were willing to actually listen to what he had to say? No one had ever told him that before. Except for you. But he couldn't bring himself to entirely believe anyone could actually care about him. His chest was hurting and his heart was aching. He was tired of hiding.

"... okay, I'll tell you everything," he nodded his head eventually, "but I'll never tell this story again so you better be all ears."

You nodded while caressing his once-so-soft-cheek slowly. Initially he shuddered, then he closed his eyes and leaned in your touch, giving you permission to carry on. Tracing your fingers on his cold pale skin made you feel his every scar, but his scars didn't scare you, they never did. You could tell he wasn't used to this kind of stuff. He wasn't used to people treating him like a normal human being. He wasn't used to being touched unless the touch was meant to harm him. He hadn't even started talking but you just knew something terrible was about to come out of his mouth.

The man took a deep breath. He knew that once he started speaking he wouldn't be able to stop. He had been holding all in for so long, it all came out like word vomit.

"Jeremiah is my twin brother. He was always mother's favorite. Mother. Can I even call her that? No, she was never my mom. Lila Valeska never loved me. She never treated me like her son, not even when I was a baby. She had only one son and that was Jeremiah. I was just... there. Like a nephew she had to take care of or something. But not a son, no. She always said I ruined her life. Yeah, like it's my fault she had unprotected sex. But I could never understand why she praised Jeremiah all the time. What was so special about him? What was he doing so much better than me to get that kind of appreciation from mama when we were just 5 years old? I can only remember he was into maths and puzzles and that kind of shits from a young age. He pissed the hell out of me. But I didn't hate him. I mean, at the end of the day he was still my brother. And sometimes he would hold me while that whore was busy banging clowns the next room, assuring me that everything would be alright and that mother didn't actually hate me, promising me that one day we'll get out of the circus and live our best lives. What a dirty little liar...! And to think I actually used to believe his empty promises... Until he turned his back on me."

Jerome paused. His eyes were now filled with anger, you could tell he didn't like his brother much. Then he continued.

"It happened once we turned 7. Lila had hit me multiple times and I don't even remember what was the reason, but then again, it's not like she ever needed a reason to hurt me. Before this it was usually just slaps, but this time it was a proper beating. The sadness mixed with anger I felt at the time were too much to handle for a little boy. I had to somehow let it out, y'know? So... I started mutilating small animals. Soon I grew an interest in murdering them. And it felt... therapeutic. I know I should feel ashamed of this, but I don't. I never did. Hell, I even pretended they were her because I knew I wasn't strong enough to actually hurt her back. How fucked up I must've been to behave this way at 7, right? But things got complicated when Jeremiah found out. He said," Jerome talked in two different thin voices the next parts:

"... ' I understand your anger, 'Romie! I think it's quite interesting, really! '

I actually believed him and replied happily ' You think so, 'Miah? But please don't tell 'ma, she'll get really mad at me! My cheek still hurts from the last slap she gave me! '

' I would never! She hits me too sometimes, you know. But I don't know why she's so mean to you all the time! '..."

Jerome cleared his throat and went back to his usual tone "Well, he kept his promise, kinda. He didn't tell our mother but he told uncle Zach ―and let me tell you this― he was the WORST. Such cruelness in one man. He used to cook food for the other circus members, but he was an ex prisoner, spent years in jail for robbery and rape. Yeah, that's my fucked up uncle. He was a cook and yet I was always left to starve. Mind you but I used to be underweight 'cause of that.

Anyway ...! Dear ol' Zach thought I had gone psychopathic when little 'Miah showed him the dead animals' corpses, so he made sure he worked me over. And, of course, Lila made sure of that as well. And as if those injuries weren't enough, Jeremiah saw this as a perfect opportunity to leave the circus. He started spreading rumors about me kickin' and punching him, feeding my mom and uncle with funny stories about me threatening his life, when the truth is I never touched a hair of his. For him, those were the stories that were gonna get him out of that damned place we so called home. For me, those were the stories that were gonna ruin my life. Even though I tried to defend myself they never believed me, because after all I was the animal abuser while he was the perfect innocent son, with his little nerdy hamster glasses and fancy books and puzzles. And let's just say, it didn't end well for me when he would randomly bring up something that didn't even happen. He had totally brainwashed them and I was lucky if I could get away with just a slap or two. But they didn't abuse me just physically... verbally as well. The amount of times I heard them planning my murdering were countless. And maybe they should have done it. Maybe they should have murdered me. Instead, they used to remind me every single day that I was such a heartless psycho monster who's gonna cause nothing but disaster. Well, I guess they weren't exactly wrong with that one. I mean, just look at me now..." he narrowed his eyes.

"Nobody ever stood up for me. Nobody cared. Nobody. They always managed to cover it all up, they always told me to smile once they were done. I was known as Haly's Circus little sociopath. And Jeremiah? They'd always make sure he was treated right, that he got the best stuff, while I could be freezing at night and they wouldn't even notice.

On our 9th birthday our uncle decided to take Jeremiah to the city away from me so he could celebrate his birthday properly and left me with my mom and her partner at the time. The got drunk and had sex all day, not caring that I was in the same room, beating the shit out of me afterwards. And when I had finally managed to get out of that hell of a trailer, my father ―I didn't know he was my father back then, but he knew I was his son― didn't even try to comfort me, he simply told me to suck it up because nobody cared. And he was right. This world indeed doesn't care about me or anyone else. But for a child? Damn, that hurt. And I suppose it's even sadder now knowing he was my dad...

Moving on, by the time we were almost 10 his lies got worse and worse, and so were the beatings. According to him I had tried to poison him and to light his bed on fire. One time he injured his knee when he fell on the ground, but later lied about me pushing him down the stairs. But the last straw was when he lied about me holding a cake knife to his throat on our 10th birthday. My uncle almost broke my ribs for that and my mom repeatedly kicked my stomach with her legs. Honestly, I can't really remember that day. All I know is that they decided it would be the best if uncle Zach took Jeremiah away while I was asleep. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pleased when I saw they both left, but little did I know that it was only gonna get worse for me.

Haly's Circus is a nightmare dressed like a daydream. A lot of fucked up things happened there. I hated that place. And with Jeremiah gone, she started drinking more and more, and got more aggressive. She got pissed at every little thing I did and made sure I received punishment. Did I forget to do that dishes? She'd kick me. Forgot to take out the trash? She'd slap me across the face. Didn't feed her snake? She'd punch me. Was breathing too heavily for her liking or my existence simply bothered her? She'd beat me till my vision was blurry or till I coughed in my own blood. I did try to get help from the cops, but guess what! They didn't give 2 shits! Ya see, the system is so corrupt they don't care unless someone's been murdered. They made fun of me and I understood no one could ever save me, I was the only one that could free myself from the pain."

You stood quiet when Jerome removed his gloves. You hadn't seen his hands unclothed in a very, very long time. Last time you saw his bare fingers was before he died. His veins were more noticeable now, among with multiple half healed blueish bruises he had probably given himself. Seeing Jerome without his gloves felt like him breaking a wall between the two of you. Like he trusted you. Like he trusted you enough for you to see him at his lowest. He needed to trust you enough to tell you everything. The scarred man was silent for a brief moment, trying to find the right words to describe the next part of his story that made you feel like throwing up.

"On my 14th birthday one of Lila's hookers...how do I say this... one of her hookers touched me, Y/N. Like, parts he shouldn't have touched... And... she was there, watching. She didn't do anything to stop him, she didn't even try. I was crying and screaming and begging her to make him stop. She just laughed. Her awful witch-like laugh followed by her favorite line: ' shut up! boys don't cry! '. And afterwards she just left with him for the night and before that she told me to smile. Smile. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't feel my body. The only thing I could feel were his hands all over my body... To put it into words, I felt worthless and helpless. Smile," Jerome smiled weakly through the tears as he repeated his mother's words, hugging his own body, "Smile. I was smiling that night. I was smiling when I tried to kill myself. It was all too much, I couldn't handle it. My life was a living Hell I started to believe Hell itself couldn't be that bad. So... I just took a bunch of her pills and I thought that was it, I thought I was finally gonna die. I smiled because I thought everything was finally going to end. Sadly, I survived. After taking the pills I dropped down to my knees and then... I don't know. I can't really remember anything except the fact I woke up with a terrible headache. Did she notice? Nope. Did those pills have had an effect on me? Absolutely.

I didn't have anyone to comfort me anymore. Not that Jeremiah was ever a great comfort, but it was better than nothing. I didn't have any friends, 'cause who would wanna befriend the freak who tried to murder his twin and massacred tons of pets? And if anyone tried to get close to me I would push them away. Literally. Push them. Because what was the point in denying my violent urges? Everybody thought I was the villain already anyway."

Jerome paused to blow his nose into a handkerchief you handed him. You were at loss of words. This was a lot to process and Jerome's voice was now shaky. It was painful to hear his life story, it was painful to look at him now, to stare at the helplessness in his eyes. Tough people always have the most heartbreaking pasts.

"I used to cry myself to sleep every night, but I barely managed to fall asleep knowing that she could strangulate me when her snake in my sleep, and I low-key hoped she would so my suffering could end already. But when I did manage to fall asleep I ended up getting a... What was that called? Oh yeah, sleep paralysis. She was the demon suffocating me. Even now... I can't ever properly fall asleep. I'm always half awake. Actually forget I said that... Stupid! stupid...." he cried while gripping on his ginger hairs, scratching his thin pale skin with his sharp nails.

"Jerome," you whispered and took his hands in yours, "it's not stupid. Your emotions are valid. Please, carry on."

The boy nodded and did as you said, "At some point I just stopped talking because my body was hurting so much. I started isolating myself from everything and everyone. Because you see, people like me, we're put in this world for one thing: to suffer. The only thing that made the pain go away for a while was the thought of torturing her, cutting her open and feeding her snake with her organs then bathing in a pool of her blood and maybe sending her bones to Jeremiah. All I know is that I was so sick and tired of her calling me names and spitting on my face, beating me up till I bled, abusing me, banging my head against the wall, ripping my hairs off, punching me with her cold fists, slapping and pinching my skin, throwing empty alcohol bottles at me and kicking my bones. And when she was done with beating me, she'd always call over one of her sex partners to have some fun. I was tired of having to hear her moans as she was getting railed the next room. But I knew better than disturbing her, because if I did she'd invite her lovers to beat me too... or worse. I just had to keep quiet because if I behaved she'd leave me alone for a day or two.

But in time I got used to it. The beatings and all. It didn't even hurt that much anymore. The psychical wounds healed eventually, but the emotionally ones were always there. She didn't even need to get physical, her words were enough to torture me, they were like poisson. Her words cut deeper than a knife. When she wasn't the one hurting me I was hurting myself. That's so messed up, I know. But what isn't messed up about me or my life? I just couldn't help it. I had grown addicted to watching myself bleed. It's like... that was my only comfort. My sadness, my pain... Bugs. There were bugs on my skin, crawling on it. One second they were there, the next they weren't. I had to peel some of my skin off just to make sure. But I liked it. I think. It looked pretty. Such a pretty shade of red...! I could've stared at it for hours. Don't know if I was high or if I just had lost touch with reality. Or maybe both.

I just wished she would just kill me already and be done with it, 'cause it was better to be dead than to be alive and suffering. I just wished that everything would go quiet once and for all. My mind was like a prison I could not escape. My mind was the darkest place. The negative thoughts, they were always there. The voices telling me to do horrible things to myself. People screaming. A thousand voices howling in my head all the time. Dead people. I saw dead people everywhere. I couldn't control it.

Nobody cared about me, so who would've noticed if one day I just disappeared from this world? If one day I just stopped breathing? Definitely not her. If anything, she'd beat my corpse. I mean, she didn't even notice my first attempt.

That's what I told myself as I tried to slash my veins. But then I heard it," his face suddenly lit up, "That voice. The voice. The only comfort I ever had was that voice in the back of my head. That voice that grew louder as the years passed by. That voice that was giving me hope saying ' your day will come, your revenge will come, you just have to be patient '. And I had done my waiting. All the suffering, all the abuse I was forced to endure were about the end. I wasn't gonna let her win. Little did that whore know her beatings gave me strength and a high pain tolerance. Suddenly, all the fear I ever felt towards her turned into hatred and anger. She was going to pay for everything she had ever made me go through. People call me insane but they don't know my insanity gave me strength to save myself from that Hell I used to call home.

So, by the time I was 16 I had already started planning her murdering. I started working out and made better meals for myself so I'd be sure I was stronger than she was. I wanted to no longer be skinny. I had also made the perfect plan to kill her and get away with it.

So on my 18th birthday, like a birthday gift for myself, if you will, I grabbed an axe and chopped her off, hitting her repeatedly with it, digging it up and down into her skin. The first stab was the hardest one, but once I saw blood drawing out I just couldn't stop. I laughed as I did. Seeing her like that, lifeless and all covered in blood made me shiver in a good way. It was like feeling a brand new emotion. I was...happy? Entertained? I had finally given in that voice, I was finally free! That day I promised myself that I would come after my brother and uncle too, they also needed to pay for the way they'd treated me. And after that I'd be finally free to kill myself... I know how fucked up that sounds, but now that you know what they put me through, I hope you understand why I had to do it. There was no other way. One of us had to go. I killed her because she deserved it, self defense really. You get it, right? Tell me you get it, please."

You nodded while massaging his thumbs. His eyes were red and so were yours. You were both crying. Jerome couldn't believe he just told you all of that. He had never told anyone about any of that before. Did he say too much? Did you not want to be near him anymore?

"Jerome, I don't even know where to begin... you are such a strong person, really. You didn't deserve what happened to you. It wasn't your fault. You were just a child, none of this was your fault. No one ever treated you like a human being. No one ever gave you a chance. It's like you were forced to be evil, you didn't have a choice. They made you evil. They turned you into the villain. Of course you snapped eventually. I can't blame you. I would've done the same if I were in your shoes. No one ever gave you the chance to tell the full story. I wish I could take it away. All the pain, all the suffering... Oh, Jerome... I can't even begin to describe how bad I feel for you. Your heart has endured way too much at a way too young age. It's not you who is the monster. It's them. You had and have every right to kill them, I'll even help you. Jerome... I'm so proud of you for staying alive. Jerome, please remember that you matter. You matter to me. I see you, Jerome. I see you for who you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? You are a very, very handsome boy."

"Even with the scars?"Jerome smiled, his eyes puffy from crying. Not a threatening or disturbing smile. A genuine smile that made you smile too.

"Absolutely. Your scars just show how strong you are. Your scars make you prettier. I myself ain't a strong person but... I won't let anyone hurt you anymore, you've been through enough. And I won't let you hurt yourself either. Because I care. And you can trust me with anything, Jerome. Let me be the one person that makes you feel like home. Please." you got lost in his gaze. Words weren't enough to express what you felt. So you just hugged him. A gentle, loving hug. Jerome wasn't a touchy person in general, but he gave in and hurled himself into your warm embrace. Soon he was holding you so close to him like he was never going to let you go. Then he cried more. And louder. He cried on your shoulder and you patted his back. This was all new to him, he was still confused by the way he was acting. But it just felt right. He felt safe at last. He wondered if you were an angel sent from Heaven to rescue him. You scooped him up in your arms. Yours arms were tight around him, his head on your chest. He needed this. He needed to feel okay. He needed feel loved and accepted. You held each other for so long you could feel each other's breathing, and you weren't going to let go of each other anytime soon.

"Thank you for listening."

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