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luvrxbunny · 11 months

Text

soft

pairing: post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel wants her, and she wants him. The bumpy story of how they got together!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has hair that can get in her face, smoking (weed), drinking, lots of feelings, piv, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, kinda subby Joel at the end (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 10.3k (idk how that happened im sorry)

a/n: I’m pretty proud of this one. ik its long but please just give her a chance!

It started with you and Joel both high and drunk out on the porch and he looked so beautiful. There was a perpetual smile on his face, laughing and even giggling at almost everything you said, folding himself over and leaning his head on you whenever he thought something was particularly funny and you couldn't control yourself.

The next time he leaned over you waited, watching, letting him calm back down but when he went to pull off of you, you pulled his head to yours. His breathing stopped short and it scared you until he groaned into your mouth. It was so many things, it was broken, grateful, desperate but savoring and you loved it.

He placed his hand behind your head and held you in place as he pushed his lips further into yours. It almost hurt, the way he seemed to attempt to mold your face into one, but it was so perfect. When he pulled away you were out of breath, panting in his face as he did the same. You guys continued to exchange breaths as you scrutinized every aspect of his face.

Anxiety was clawing inside your stomach as you took him in, fearing that he may never let you ever again. His soft lips parted, and you watched his tongue slide into the indent on his bottom lip. You silently hoped he could taste your remnants on them as they froze, waiting for words to spill out. Only to be interrupted by Ellie slamming the front door open.

“Can you guys fucking keep it down?! I have school, remember? You’re the one making me go!” She shouts at you both, directing the last part at Joel who was still staring at you. You were watching Ellie as she yelled but Joel’s silence brought your gaze back to him. You shouldn’t have because you feel like that’s when it happened. You swear you could see him blocking himself off from you, like a door was shutting in his eyes. He apologized to Ellie and said it was getting late.

Now, usually, Joel insists on you sleeping on the couch, too worried to let you go home so inebriated but that night he sent you away. It was like he broke your heart. He shattered it and forced you to place the shards in your shoes as he pushed you away, pain shooting through your whole body with every step.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, you thought things were over with Joel, and you’d lose touch with Ellie because it would be too painful to go over there.

Your paradise was ruined.

You couldn’t believe you had read the situation so wrong. You thought- worse case- he would tell you that you’re too young, that he just can’t be with you, for whatever reason. But the look in his eyes… the way he sent you home. It felt like he didn’t even care about you anymore.

The next day you thought you had lost your mind. You were in a terrible headspace and decided to ditch your responsibilities. You were in bed, switching between sleeping and sobbing into your pillow. You felt horrible, you looked horrible and someone was knocking incessantly at your door. They would not leave, no matter how much time passed, no matter how loud you groaned. So you wrapped your blanket around you and very angrily made your way to the door.

“Who the fu-” Your sentence is cut short in complete and utter shock.

It was Joel.

You let the door swing open and walk back inside. You’re already climbing back into bed as you hear him shut the door behind him. “What do you want, Joel?”

You’re lying down, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. In the corner of your eye, you can see him just standing there, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. Your head almost turns as you hear him take a deep breath, wishing you could see the way his chest puffs up and stretches whatever shirt he’s wearing. But you don't. He’s not someone you should be admiring like this, he’s someone you cannot be admiring like this.

“Oh my god. Don’t just stand there you know I fucking hate that.” Your voice is so irritated, so hurt and cold but he scoffs.

Anger and embarrassment courses through you but you feel the bed dip anyway, it eases the feelings.

You can feel him right beneath your feet, so close you almost want to straighten your legs a bit more, just so you can press against him. But you don’t.

“Okay, then don’t curse… Y'know I hate that.” His voice is painfully normal, like nothing happened, like he didn't break you. You want to laugh- or cry- at the absurdity. The thought that last night meant nothing to him, so little that he’s over here asking you things like ‘don’t curse’.

Who does he think he is? That he can treat me like shit and then ask such trivial things of me? No. Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Joel. You’re a dick, get out.” He takes a deep breath and then is silent for a moment. You hoped and prayed that he had given up but to no avail.

“No, honey. I’m supposed to find out why you’re not out workin’.” You scoff at him and dig yourself deeper into the blankets. “Ar- are ya sick or somethin’?” At this you turn to him, looking him dead in the eyes, asking ‘Are you fucking serious?’ but he can’t hold your gaze.

Oh! So he does remember.

You laugh humorlessly and fall back into bed where you lie in silence, for quite some time. Until his hand comes up to your ankle, resting so gently you know he’s holding it up. He’s probably still thinking over whether he should do it or not, unaware that he’s already touching you.

“Can- Well, I- I- I know that- fuck.” He’s so angry when he says it, frustrated with himself for not having the right words.

He never knows the right thing to say, or how to convey how he feels. He’s so scared of losing you right now, but he doesn’t know how to tell you in a way that will have you asking no questions. He can’t have you asking him anything because he knows you’ll ask him things that he’s nowhere near ready to answer. “Can you just- Can you please?”

You waited for him to say more, expecting it, but that was the end of the sentence. He wanted you to ‘just please’.

The way he says it though, you look over at him and he’s gazing into you, his eyes so piercing that you almost feel uncomfortable. It feels like he’s prying into you, willing you to open up for him to express himself without having to actually say anything to you.

You sit up and glare back at him, softer than before but still hot with rage. “Please, what.” He shakes his head and looks away from you, into his lap instead as his hand fully settles on your ankle. He keeps huffing out breaths, like he’s going to say something but then decides against it. You’re almost irritated with the sound until he takes a breath and follows it with words.

“You- I need for yesterday to have not happened.”

Fuck him.

You hadn’t even gotten over the first rejection, the lack of care he showed and now here he was rejecting you again. “You must- You gotta understand why it can’t happen. Why we-”

You were trying not to tremble as he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to keep himself calm in the face of the extreme stress the whole situation was putting on him. Tears were welling in your eyes as he spoke, despite you squeezing them shut to avoid this exact issue. But it hurt just as much as it did last night, maybe more. “We just can’t. Not- I need for things to go back to normal… f- for now at least…”

You’re breathing froze, eyes snapping open to look at Joel, who was still looking in his lap. His hand left your ankle to meet his other fidgeting one as you both sat in silence. You could see him peeking at you from the corner of his eye as subtly as he could as you thought over his words.

You felt like you were on a game show. Do you double down or just take what you have?

‘I need for yesterday to have not happened’

‘I need for things to go back to normal’

His words hurt.

‘F-for now at least’

But those words… made it worth it.

You didn’t want to push him. You know how hard it must’ve been for him to even express the little bit he did. Along with that, the thought of him noticing you weren’t around and coming to check on you was making its way through your cloud of hate.

“Y-you sent me away…” Your voice isn’t hard anymore. It isn't soft either, it was just weak. You can see Joel grimace at it, turning away from you so you couldn’t see him. “Wh- You- you always let me stay but- you just-” You stop talking, if you kept going you would’ve started sobbing again.

“I couldn’t let you stay, honey. The- I didn’t- I don’t have enough self-control for something like that to happen an’... I’m leaving you in the guest room? No. I would’ve- had to have- I… No, I-” He breathes out in annoyance again and you yearn to comfort him. But you don’t.

He always gets too frustrated with himself, making it even harder for him to clear his head enough to say what he wants. “I wouldn’t have been able to leave you there. I would’ve had to do somethin’ and I- I don't think that’s a good idea.”

You’re not completely satisfied with the answer, you have more questions now than you did before but you managed to collect one piece of information.

Joel wants you.

It wasn’t a flat-out rejection more like a, ‘let's put a pin in that’ and you have enough faith in him to believe he wouldn’t string you along. So you sniffle, put your big boy pants on as you wipe your tears, and tap Joel on the shoulder, turning his gaze to you. You take a deep breath and speak.

“Yesterday’s events are forgotten.” You say it with a light smile but you’re betrayed by one stray tear as it rushes down your face. Joel’s expression crumbles at it, in so much pain, so heartbroken at the thought that he had caused it. Despite his feelings, he nods at you and gets up. “Get ready. You’re in the fields today, darlin’.” He hits the door frame with a grateful smile before walking away to let you get changed.

Leaving you in your hopeful sadness.

------------------------------------

Things were rocky at first. Neither of you were actually able to forget about ‘what happened’ as Joel so lovingly put it. You expected too much from him and he was still too cold toward you. For the first month, you guys were basically in an argument. It was as though the town couple, the gruff old man and the re-tamed angel, had broken up.

Everyone knew that you were hooking up with Jared, he wouldn’t shut up about it. Joel and the townspeople had heard of his sexual conquests over and over since he arrived, before he set his sights on you.

When he first approached you, you had already gotten out of your ‘phase’ and were too captivated by Joel to entertain him for even a second. However, he was quite popular among the other town women, he was popular with women even before the outbreak so he couldn’t believe when you rejected him. Not that he was shocked, he fully did not believe you. In turn, he never stopped pursuing you… much like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.

So when Joel broke you, you slipped back to how you were before him… You went to Jared. You don’t know if you were hoping he could put you back together or if you wanted him to help you cut Joel with the shards of your heart but the latter is what ended up happening.

You wanted to cut it off with Jared the moment Joel found out. When Jared started parading around the town with you next to him as if you were genuinely interested. But you didn’t.

Instead, you kept seeing him for a few more weeks. You watched Joel avoid you like the plague, ducking out of every room you walked into, switching his jobs with people who had the worst ones just so he didn’t have to work with you. You enjoyed making him squirm, showing him that you could just move on if he’s not ready to step up. You were a highly sought-after woman, a piece of art who he wanted to keep in the garage until he found the right spot. No, you refuse. Until you came across him alone at the bar one night.

He was obviously drunk, a beer in hand but his cheek on the table. There was a song playing that he was loosely singing along to. His other hand was in the air, waving his finger around like he was conducting an orchestra. You storm over to his booth.

Watch him suddenly sober up and head home. Watch him suddenly remember some plans he made or something he forgot to do. Watch him just get up and leave me again.

You sit down across from him and wait for him to notice you. You’re just watching him. His eyes are closed and his eyebrows furrow as he tries to hit each high note. He’s failing, not hitting them perfectly but still getting to an impressive pitch. It’s too endearing to see him like this, so open, unburdened.

You didn’t even know he could sing this well. Your anger and bitterness fades for the first time in weeks. Your head tilts and a soft smile invades your face, as if sensing this Joel finally opens his eyes.

They’re so soft, probably because he thought he was alone, his guard is dropped. You’re waiting for them to go back up at the sight of you. But they stay so soft as he gasps gently. “Honey! Wha- When did you get ‘ere” His voice is softer too… not as rough and gruff as it usually is.

He also doesn’t sound angry. After all he’s done to avoid you, you’d expect him to sound angry. You chalk it up to the alcohol.

“I’ve been here. You just never noticed.” When your voice reaches Joel it's gentle, like how you’d speak to a child but not patronizing. He likes it. He swears he can feel your voice washing over him, running through his hair and caressing his cheek. He smiles at it, at you as a blush rises to his cheeks.

“S-so you-” He looks down at the table, his eyes moving back and forth as he thinks. “Did you hear m-” You can’t help the laugh that slips out. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth but you’re still obviously smiling. “Oh.” That’s all he says as you let your laughs out.

“I’m- Not laughing at you, Joel. I- I swear.” Laughs break up your sentence as Joel stares at the table. “Oh- I’m so sorry. God. You really didn’t notice me here! That’s what was so funny not your singing I swear.” You let out a little giggle at the end but Joel is frowning.

“This s’why I don’ sing in front of no one.” He’s picking at the wood and grumbling to himself. You’d find it all incredibly annoying if it wasn’t Joel doing it.

“Joel.” You’re stern but still gentle as you speak. “I told you it wasn’t your singing. The singing was great. I was so fucking impressed. I had no clue you could even sing like that.” You watch a smile creep onto his face as you praise his talent. He’s still looking at the table, wanting to stay angry but he can’t. Your smile widens the longer you watch him until he takes a swig of his beer.

“Why are you so drunk?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them and Joel pauses mid-sip. He’s frozen like that before slamming it onto the table and looking at you. “ ‘M not drunk. ‘M not. But if I was…” He squints his eyes at you. “If I was- It’s probably cos the girl I want seems to want someone else.”

It feels like everything in the bar stops. Your breathing, your heart, the music, time, the world. Everything just stops.

He got this drunk… over me?

He chuckles and finishes his beer as you sit there in shock. “Dunno why you’re doin’ all this. I know you knew. Jus’ thought-” He goes to take another sip and whines when there’s nothing. “Stupid fuckin-” He throws it across the room, astonishingly making it into the trash with a small mumble of ‘swish’.

“Joel.” He turns back to you with a blank expression. “You never told me you liked me.”

“Oh please.” His voice is mean, a bit sharp now. Your face contorts into one of disgust as he speaks. “You ain’t that dumb, honey. It was very heavily implied an’ you know it.” Your expression drops into a frown. His voice broke at the end, followed by a sniff and an aggressive rub from his sleeve over his nose. “B-but you’re still out there with fuckin’ Jared.” His voice shakes through the sentence, adding some anger at the end as you cringe at the sound of his name. You both were aware you didn’t have any honest feelings for Jared.

“Joel. You told me to pretend that… that night.” You look away from him, embarrassed at what should be a sweet memory. “You told me to pretend it never happened and then treated me like shit for no reason afterward. Certainly, you didn’t expect me to sit in that. There’s no way you thought I would tolerate it! So yeah, I went to get whatever affection I could, elsewhere since my best and main source ran fucking dry.” You can feel your anger towards him building back up as you speak, reliving the details of your guys’ downfall. It still hurt.

“Certainly you didn’t- Why do you talk so damn proper?” He’s laughing to himself at his rendition of your voice but you’re nowhere near amused. You stand from your seat and look down at him, stopping his laughter instantly.

“Okay. Let’s talk about this when you’re sober, hmm? When you can be an adult? Stay on topic at least?” His brows furrow and his eyes leave yours. You stand there, waiting for him to respond but get nothing. “Cool, Joel. I’ll see you around then.” You sigh and turn away from him, disappointed.

The night had started so well, that you stupidly believed that you guys might be able to save your relationship. You should’ve known he was too drunk for the conversation but he shouldn’t have brought it up. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to have a serious conversation he shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. Now you’re both hurting all over again. He’s probably gonna grab another drink and you’re probably gonna go see Jared.

“Please!” It’s frantic, desperate, and unsteady as it shoots out of his mouth. You freeze in your spot, halfway to the door and halfway from him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna talk about it. Why fuckin’ would I? It hurts. You fuckin’— You hurt me… prancing around with that piece of shit- All I did was ask you to wait… just wait- for me to be ready to love you.”

You’re still standing in the middle of the room, facing the door. His voice was getting louder, closer as he spoke but you don’t turn. You could hear the emotion bleeding into his words, breaking his voice as he approached you.

“But you- You couldn’t even wait for me! No. No, you had to go get— ah how’d ya put it? Affection elsewhere- fuck off. You coulda just said you needed something from me. I could’ve given you affection.” His voice softened after cursing at you. It only grows softer as he speaks. You can feel him behind you, maybe a few steps away but you don’t turn.

You don’t wanna see him, lose your edge, your nerve. “I- I would’ve given it to you if I knew, darlin’. I was tryna keep my distance, waitin’ for you to get over me and look! You did. I- I just wish you had told me, instead of havin’ t’hear it from fuckin’— fuckin’ Jared.”

His voice dies down for a moment and you turn around. His hair is everywhere, he must’ve been running his hands through it as he spoke. His eyes aren’t teary but they look like he could cry at any moment, he looks tired and his lips are bitten red.

“I would’ve understood. Or- Or maybe I wouldn’t’ve I dunno. I just wish you woulda said somethi-”

You’re kissing him.

Fuck.

You are kissing him. You didn't mean to. You have no clue how your lips got to his but they’re all over them. He’s groaning at you, pulling you in as you pull away.

“Fuck! I’ve got to stop doing that… jesus.” You’re looking at the ground as you wipe his slobber off your mouth. He’s silent, panting as he just stands there and your heart starts to race.

It’s just like last time. Fuck. Why the fuck do I keep doing this shit.

Tears are already welling in your eyes and you decide to speak before he can send you away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that… I know you need time or whatever.” You pause, giving him room to say anything but he doesn't. You want to look up at him, see what he’s thinking, how he’s reacting. But you don’t.

“Yeah… I’m gonna go.” You turn around and finish your walk to the exit. You grab the handle and stop. “I- I’m gonna cut things off with Jared…” You stay silent for a bit, trying to decide whether you should say your next words. “I do need your affection though, Joel.” You rushed out the door after that.

------------------------------------

You just want to fuck him already. It’s been months now, of this back and forth. To be clear, you do still want him romantically, how could you not? This man, when his hair is fluffy and soft just like him. When you see his expression now light up when you walk into the room. When he builds you little trinkets in the shop, instead of doing the job he was assigned to. When he makes your favorite for dinner after finding out that you’re having a bad day. When he plans movie nights featuring your favorites that he could find on DVD.

How could you not love him?

It scares you. The “situation-ship” you both were currently in started a few months ago. Actually… It started exactly four months and three weeks ago. There’s no point in pretending you haven’t kept track. Joel told you that he needed time. You would have never expected it to be this much time but you’ve grown to love and crave him over the months.

He listened to what you said at the bar that night. He’s been giving you so much affection it’s actually making the other women in the community quite jealous of you. He hasn’t kissed you yet but he kisses your cheek, your forehead, and- when he’s drunk or high enough- your neck. You don’t kiss him anymore. You’ve kissed his cheek a few times over the months, his head once when he was sick but other than that you try to keep to yourself. You’re still a bit traumatized from his first rejection, the way it played out, and everything. You’d rather just not risk it.

You’re in the garden and he’s in the field. You’re planting flowers, pulling and re-planting vegetables while Joel is harvesting the wheat he planted four months ago and tilling the land for the new seeds. You keep looking over at him, you really can’t help it at this point.

The sun is shining through his hair, making it a dark golden color with streaks of white running through it. His arms are smudged from handling the dirt all day and his biceps flex repeatedly as he picks the kernels off of the wheat and throws them into his basket. His eyebrows are creased and his eyes squinted to avoid the burning light of the sun and he keeps looking over at you. He really can’t help it at this point.

You look so beautiful, sitting on your knees with your adorably mismatched gardening gloves. Your hair falls so angelically every time you lean forward to lead a new plant to its home. Every time you sit back up you use the back of your wrist to try and shove the hair from your face, sputtering out, trying to blow the hair away and it's so endearing. Your arms are dirty and he feels the incredibly odd urge to bathe you. He’s ready to love you. He’s so fucking ready but he has no clue— not even the slightest— as to how he should tell you.

The current supervisor calls it a day and you almost fall face-first into the plants in your scramble to get to Joel. He’s taking off his gloves, flexing and stretching his fingers when he sees you rushing toward him with a huge smile he can’t help but mirror. “Hey, darlin’. You look so beautiful today.”

You freeze where you stand which luckily isn’t too far from Joel. He makes his way over to you, watching your expression. He loves it so much, he doesn’t understand how he never noticed it before. The way you always take a deep, shaking breath, your eyebrows go inward and you give him this look. He doesn’t understand it yet but it always makes him ache for you, makes him burn somewhere in the depths of his being to just be with you. He doesn’t know how long he can resist it. He doesn't want to. He doesn’t.

“I’m- I think I really- I just really wanna kiss you.” You snap out of your daze and your eyes focus on him, hopeful for a moment then a little dull. You turn your head, give him your cheek, close your eyes, and wait for the gentle kiss but nothing happens. You slowly open your eyes and look at him, he looks scared. “I wanna kiss you.”

You can hear your heart speed up, your breaths getting shorter and your thoughts more jumbled.

He wants to kiss me?

You’re confused for a moment, not understanding what brought this on. You’re eyes slip from his contact as you lose yourself in your thoughts, not realizing the silence you’re creating or the anxiety you’re causing. But Joel realizes, he’s sweating more than he has all day as he waits for you to say something, do something. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before giving up. “We don’t have to… I just- I wanted to…” He tries and fails to keep the sadness out of his voice.

His words strike fear in you and you reach out to grip his arm, hoping it’s enough to stop him from walking away. “Y-You wanna kiss me? On the… on the lips?” He’s surprised by your voice, it sounds far away, loose, and airy.

“I do.” It comes out with no hesitation, no stutters, no pause. You take a step closer to him and his expression twitches, his chest beginning to heave with anticipation.

“I would really love that, Joel.” You’re staring up at him now, as best you can in the sun. You’re looking into his eyes, an excited, mischievous glint in your eyes, challenging him, daring him to do something. And he loses his nerve.

“Oh! Okay. Thats… Thats good. I- I want you to come over later, alright? I’ll get us some weed and alcohol. You don’t need to bring snacks or nothin’ either jus- jus bring yourself, alright? Okay, see you then.” And with that, he walked off. His cheeks were absolutely burning. He couldn’t believe himself

‘That's good’? What the fuck is wrong with you, Miller? Leaving that darlin’ girl standing in the sun like that? It just ain’t right, she’s so sweet on you and you fuckin’ know it. I gotta stop doin’ this to her…

You’re watching Joel walk away. A bit stunned by the whole interaction, confusion, and questions swarm your head the whole walk home. They stick with you in the shower and as you get ready to head over to Joel’s. They accompany you on the whole walkover as well.

Maybe he wants me to do something… I know people like it rough, so maybe he wants me to take charge? He doesn’t really seem the type. Does this mean he wants me now? Will he kiss me tonight? Is that why he invited me over? Are we gonna have sex? Oh god, I hope so. I’d treat him so well- or maybe I wouldn’t since everyone likes it rough.

You’ve reached his block when you’re stopped by Susan; Joel’s biggest admirer. She places herself in front of you, blocking your path and forcing you to talk to her. “Oh, he’s not in, hun.”

You take a calming breath and try not to roll your eyes at her. “Okay… Well, I’m gonna check, just in case.” You turn your steps and try to make your way around her only for her to place herself right back in your way.

“I’m gonna be honest I- I don’ really get this whole thing with you an’ him. I just- I guess I don’ really see it… Do ya’ know what I mean?” You glare at her, ignoring her statement and waiting for her to just get out of your way. “I mean…” She steps closer to you. “I remember when you first got here…”

You can feel shame and embarrassment curl in your stomach at the mention of your arrival. You weren’t in the best place, mentally, and you did a lot- a lot- of things that you wished you hadn’t, lots of men you wished you hadn’t. “Don’t be an ass, Susan.” She backs away from you, a sinister smile on her face and her hands in the air.

“Hey! I’m” She laughs. “I’m jus sayin’... You were interested in a lot of different guys!” You start walking, refusing to listen to what she has to say. But the psycho bitch follows you. “I mean are you even sure that it’s him that you want? Weren’t you with Jared just a few months ago? I mean…”

You’re speed-walking to Joel’s now. You’re only a house away when she hops in front of you again. “Hun! I told you he ain’t home! I’m just-” She sighs and lowers her head as you crane your neck, hoping and praying Joel had made his way to the porch by now. But he hasn’t. “If you just want a man I can set you up with some of my friends! Some people who are… Gosh! How do I say this without bein’ rude? Some people who are more in your… lane… league?” Your head whips back at her, fury raging in your eyes at her audacity.

“Excuse me?” You question, low and threatening. “Well. Hun, c’mon now, don’t get all bent outta shape, I mean well! You and I both know Joel is too… hmm, well. He’s too good for you I guess.” You’re not staring at her, you’ve turned your head to the patch of sky you can see through the trees beside you, choosing to count the stars instead of listening to this shit.

“I’d strongly disagree.” You can hear her gasp and spin around as a smile spreads over your face.

Joel.

“Oh! I- I thought you weren’t home, sugar.” She tries to lean into him but he walks around her and grabs your arm, pulling you past her with a mumble of “Yeah. I know.”, ending the conversation.

Joel doesn’t speak until he’s gotten you inside. “I dunno why you listen to that woman. She spews nothin’ but garbage.” You watch him dart from cupboard to cupboard to retrieve his lighter and a little joint you can tell he rolled because it’s dented in the middle. “She’s always saying some dumb shit. I fuckin’ hate it.”

His eyebrows are furrowed and his face is hard as he lights it up. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him so angry. You watch the tension fall from his shoulders, his face relaxing as he inhales. You take your shoes off, still watching him as a small smile spreads over his face and he exhales. “Are you gonna share Joel?” You ask as he goes in for another hit.

“Hey- Be nice darlin’, it’s mine after all.” He teases while handing it to you. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting next to where he’s leaning as you take a drag.

“Yours schmours, you’ll be fine.” He giggles— giggles— at your statement, his hand coming up to cover his smile as he laughs. All you can see are his pretty brown eyes, the creases around them, and the way they almost shut while he laughs. You feel your heart race, bringing along that urge that has gotten you in trouble many times over. Your eyes flicker to his lips and you immediately avert your gaze, taking another hit to try and calm yourself.

You wait for him to come back up from his designated, folded, laughing position and hold the joint out for him. You snort at the misshapen stick, causing you to choke on the smoke you were holding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what you get for laughing. Mhm.” You’re coughing up a lung as he says this, making the situation worse because you cannot stop laughing at him. He continues his remarks after taking a hit, you’re still choking and laughing, and you hold an arm out to him.

“Joel-” You cough. “Joel-” You laugh. “Joel, stop it. I’m- oh fuck.” You start coughing again in a way that has Joel turning to face you, amusement and a bit of concern on his face. “Oh my god, stop. I’m gonna die, don’t make me laugh- oh my god.”

He’s beaming at you, proud that you find him so funny and the high really hitting him. You can tell, his eyes are a bit hazy and his eyebrows are raised for some reason. He walks towards you when your fit dies down, pushing himself between your legs with a dazed look on his face. He’s just staring at your thighs for a moment, his head turning from left to right so he can look at both of them before looking up at you. Your heart is thrumming out of your chest as you try to keep your expression neutral, maybe a bit inquisitive. He stares at your lips for a bit before you see his hand raising with the joint. He brings it to your lips and looks back up at your eyes, his eyebrows jump, prompting you to inhale.

You take a long hit, trying to get as much smoke as you can, hoping it will calm you down. His eyes stay on yours, darkening as his breathing becomes a bit shallow. He pulls the joint away from your lips and puts it out right onto the counter before bringing his hand up to your cheek.

You haven’t exhaled yet, savoring the hit while he slowly brings your face to his. You’re watching his eyes, still on yours as he pulls you in. You begin to exhale, not wanting to hold the smoke in if he’s going to kiss you. That’s when he pushes your lips together. You try not to choke as he sucks the smoke out of your mouth and pulls away. You’re in a stupor as he grins at you and breathes your smoke out, re-lighting the fire in the pit of your stomach, the one that always seems to flare whenever he’s around.

“What’d ya think of that, huh? Good kiss or?” He’s wearing a smirk but his eyes are uncertain at your silence. You keep it up, not saying anything, just pulling him back in and smashing your lips into his. He accepts your kiss with a grunt from the force of it as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in.

You’re gripping his hair like it's your lifeline, gripping his face like it’ll fall apart otherwise, it hurts a little but he’s fond of your eagerness. Your hands slide onto his shoulders and you dig your fingers into his skin brutally, pulling a wince from him. He separates your lips and strokes over your cheek with his thumb, admiring you. It's a soft, tender moment until you yank him by his belt loops, crashing him against the counter painfully to whisper in his ear. “I want you, Joel”

He smiles at this and kisses you again as you undo his belt. You remove it from the loops and let it drop to the ground so you can get to work on his button and zipper. You feel his lips stutter against yours and he pulls away, confused. “Not- not here, darlin’. ‘M not gonna do this in the kitchen.” He sounds a bit confused as he grips your hips and lifts you off of the counter and back onto the floor. They come back up to cradle your face again as he places a quick, soft kiss on your lips. “ ‘M gonna make love to you in my room, on my bed, baby.”

Make love..?

Confusion flows through your mind but you go along with him, assuming it’s just some outdated terminology. “Yeah? You gonna fuck me in your bed, Joel?” He is so shocked by your response. He doesn’t understand why you’re being so aggressive about it. He’s trying to be gentle, and loving but you seem to reject it. He gives you a brief but genuine smile before leading you to his room,

Your heart is racing as you follow Joel to his bedroom. This would be the first time you’ll be having sex with someone you care about, someone you love. You wondered if it would feel any different when he was shattering your hips with his own, would there still be that soft look of adoration in his eyes? You don’t see how the two could go together.

You get to his room and he shuts the door quietly. “Can you stay still, honey?” He rolled his sleeves up, only halfway, showing off his thick forearms. He’s circling you as he questions you, holding eye contact and stopping in front of you. “I- I wanna undress you.”

Your throat feels like it’s closed.

Undress me? Why would he want to- That doesn’t seem very time-efficient… Oh, but look at him.

His eyes are silently and subconsciously begging you to let him. You let him.

He takes a deep breath and his eyes rake down your body the moment you nod at him. He grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a boyish grin before running his fingers along the hem of your shirt. They tickle your skin softly as he brings them up, bunching the fabric before pulling it over your head. He looks right into your eyes as he does this. That soft look digs into your chest, it feels like you may explode.

He only breaks away from your gaze to throw your shirt on a chair in the corner. He brings his empty hand to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb across your skin as a sort of apology for diverting his attention. He looks back at you with a smile so gentle you may melt.

Your knees almost give out when he unbuttons your pants, he sticks his thumbs in the back of your waistband, leaning into you. He’s so close. He’s so close. He’s smirking like he knows you want to kiss him. He leans forward, licking his lips before abruptly ducking down, pulling your pants with him.

You let out a surprised squeal that has him smiling up at you. Your hand comes up to bury itself in his hair before you realize it. You admire the softness of it, how fluffy it is. His eyes droop, getting a foggy, clouded look in them as he stares up at you.

Make it good for him. Everyone likes it rough.

You pull it, much harder than necessary, and watch his eyebrows crease in what you assume is arousal as he grunts again. He lifts from his kneeling position and kisses you, a little harder than he did before.

His hands were running down your back, cupping your ass, and then stroking down your thighs. He’s breathing heavily against your face as his hands squeeze your inner thigh. They roam all over your body but never go where you want them, where you need them.

“Okay, Joel. Enough I need you. I- I need you.” He smiles underneath his bitten lip as you push him away and gesture to his entire body. “Take them off… Off!”

You’re basically ripping your undergarments off and running to him, unbuttoning his shirt for him as he takes off his pants. The moment your hands push his shirt open he’s kissing you instead. He walks you both onto the bed, tripping over his pants with a giggle before landing safely on the covers. You waste no time in climbing over him, whining out when his cock rubs along your soaked pussy. He lifts himself to try and kiss you but you’re not looking at him. You’re trying to push his dick into your soaking, aching pussy.

“Shit- Damn. Fuck, honey.” He slams himself back onto the bed, his hands tighten around your hips as you position your legs beneath you and slam your hips onto him. It fucking burns. You’re wet and wanting but he’s huge, the stretch of his fat cock burns inside you as his tip jams itself into your cervix painfully. You bit off more than you can chew. Joel is grunting harshly beneath you so you power through, attempting to hide your grimace as you let out half-honest moans.

“Fuck- No. No, no, stop, baby.” His hands force you down and hold you there, rendering you immobile as he sits up. You’re watching his abs clench as he sits up with no assistance but his pure muscle, your eyes only move to his face when he clears his throat.

You’re embarrassed now, under the impression that you’ve done something wrong, something he didn’t like. You wouldn’t know what to do if that were the case… You were doing what you normally do… You don't know any special moves or anything like that. “Did- You didn’t like it..?”

You ask as timidly as possible, hoping he could hear it and would be gentle.

“I- I mean I guess but it’s not what I want.” Confusion and a bit of anger flares inside you. How were you supposed to know what he wanted?

“Okay well, what do you want then, Joel?” His brows furrow and he brings a hand up to caress your face again.

“I want to make love to you. I told you that.”

There’s that fucking term again.

“I don’t know what that means, Joel! Isn’t it the same as fucking? I don’t get it.” His brows unfurrow instantly, becoming soft and a bit upturned in what seemed to be concern. And to add insult to injury… you can feel him softening inside you.

“What do you mean?” His voice is much softer than yours, but it frustrates you. You struggle not to roll your eyes at him.

“I do not know what that means. I do not understand.” You talk slower than necessary, not actually explaining anything. You’re being a brat.

He tilts his head at you, giving a gut-wrenching, disappointed look. He kisses your cheeks and tells you to be nice, that he’s just trying to understand you.

“No… It’s not the same as fuckin’. It’s gentle and lovin’. It’s me takin’ my time with you, gettin’ you to open up for me.” You can feel his dick filling back up, stretching you out beautifully.

“It’s me learnin’ about what you like, showin’ you what I think you’d like, and getting you to cum around me and for me as long as I can. It’s more focused on- on love rather than lust.” He sighs quietly. “I’m- I’m bettin’ you’ve never had that though…”

You hear sadness leak into his voice as he ends his sentence, watching you avert your gaze. He watches frustration and shame creep onto your face. “So what? I don’t even- I don’t think I even like it that way. Slow? It already takes me long enough to cum… I don’t need to be here for hours on end, Joel.”

He shakes his head at you sadly. “You would like it, baby.” He has one hand back on your hip as the other spreads out, his large hand spread over your back as he slowly flips you both over, resting you on the bed softly. “I- fuck, I know you’d love it, honey.”

His words resonate deep in your core, bringing a new wave of wetness to run over his cock. “Oh-” His hips stutter into yours as though he could feel the extra cream flowing over his dick. “Yeah, oh you’d- I think you’ll like it, darlin’”

He places you on the bed and finishes talking before kissing you and raising to straighten himself out. His hips thrust slowly into yours and fuck does it feel good. I mean of course it does, Joel is towing over you like a Greek god and his cock is sliding within your walls smoothly, stimulating every nerve it comes across. You start to buck your hips, impatient with the slow build of the pleasure. You wanted something explosive, something that will leave you heaving for breath and you cannot comprehend how you could possibly get there like this.

Joel smiles, shakes his head at your agitation, and presses his hands down onto your sporadic hips, forcing them to stay on the bed. “No. Softly, baby. Be gentle with me, c’mon.” He continues his rhythm before, rocking into you with breathless pants. Your pleasure felt just out of reach and it was insanely maddening. “Calm down.” He tells you in a low, warning tone. You swear he can read your mind.

“Tell me.” He leans down so his lips are right by your ear. He places a kiss on your temple and looks down at where the two of you connect, shoving his hair in your face. “Do you like this?” He keeps at his regular pace, the frustrating, agitating, insanely maddening pace. “Or… Do you-” He lets out a shuddering sigh right next to your ear, your eyes nearly rolling back at the faint sound. “Or do you like this?”

His pace changes into something indescribable. His hips are swiveling into yours and hitting eighteen different pleasure points at once. Your arms come up to grip his biceps, one instantly sliding down to his lower back to encourage him to keep it up.

“Oh-” You sound shocked and out of breath. “Oh. I like that one, Joel. This one. I like this one- please” His pace speeds up and he moans at the sound of your whimper. His attention is finally pulled from where you both meet and he’s looking right into your eyes.

This man and his fucking eye contact.

It’s doing something to you… the way he’s looking at you. It’s burning into your stomach and has you clenching around him, pulling another ragged, angelic moan from his lips, hitting your lips directly due to his position. You lean up and kiss him as much as you can, most of your brain had shut off the moment he flipped you both over.

He was hitting so deep inside you, a whole section that you didn't know existed. His cock is slowly sliding over every ridge in your pussy, his veins stimulating your sensitive walls. “Joel-”

It slips out like a whimper as your moans release. You’re suddenly on 100% volume, unable to hold anything in. You never learned how. You thought you just didn’t moan against your own will, never having been in enough pleasure to let out authentic moans.

Your hand comes from his lower back to slap over your mouth, desperately trying to hold all your noises in but Joel rips it away. “Don’t do- fuck you feel so fuckin’ good-“ His voice is shaking and breathless.

“Fuck, don’ cover up your- your moans, please. Fuck I wanna hear ‘em” He intertwines your fingers with his and holds your hand next to your head. He straightens himself as much as he can while keeping your fingers interlocked so he can grind into you more deliberately. He’s angling himself a million different ways until you convulse onto yourself. You try to hold in a scream as he fucks into… something. It’s almost painful, the way pleasure punches through your body with every thrust.

“Yeah?- God fuckin’ dammit."

His hips stutter as you involuntarily suffocate his dick in your pussy. “Fuck- Is that it? Your special spot, honey? I got it dead on, huh?” He’s wearing an irritatingly calm smirk as he teases you. You, on the other hand, can barely breathe.

You’re clawing at anything you can get a hold of, his arms, the back of his neck, his back. You feel like you could cry- or throw up at the otherworldly pleasure Joel is forcing onto you. Your mouth is perpetually open, spewing out moans every other second. Your eyes keep rolling back into your head despite your attempts to look at Joel. You can’t even wrangle together enough thoughts to coherently explain how good it feels, how good he’s making you feel. “Jo- Joel. F-” You’re cut off with a whine as he pushes himself into you more forcefully.

“Joey, please- You’re right it’s s’much better. Shit- Joel!-” You let out a more devastating moan than you have all night, causing Joel to groan out in response. Your eyes open to look at him and he’s staring right at you, his eyes are something you’ve never seen, they’re dark and threatening, like a lion stalking its prey. But in this situation the lion is in love with the gazelle, it’s evident in his eyes, all over his face as he moans for you.

“Of course ‘m r- right- Fuck, you’ve really got no clue how- how fuckin’-” His statement melts into a whimpering moan as he bends back down to moan into your ear. “You feel fuckin’ heavenly, darlin’.”

It creeps up on you out of fucking nowhere. A moan rips through your chest and destroying throat as you cum around him, his words pushing you to the edge. “Oh fu-uck. Yeah? S’that good, baby? Fuckin’- fuckin’ c-cumming all over my cock with no warning, love? Oh fuck me you’re s-so good, sweetheart.”

His words fuel your world-demolishing, soul-shattering, mind fucking-ly amazing orgasm. You can feel the pleasure coursing through your veins like molten gold. Your entire body is vibrating, you’re lifting off the bed into an ethereal plane as Joel keeps thrusting into you, moaning soft praises in your ear as you gush all over his cock.

Your eyes are permanently in the back of your skull as your hand runs frantically all over his body, trying to find something to ground you, to keep you from flying away on the cloud of pleasure Joel was providing for you.

He slows his thrusts in favor of you. Your moans had begun to get a bit desperate, all over the place, feverish and distraught as your pleasure bubbled over into overstimulation. Joel is kissing your neck softly, whispering even more soft words laced with love as your soul returns to your body with a broken whine of his name. He pulls his face out of your neck with a smile, his hips still thrusting into you slowly, just toeing the line of overstimulation. It has you losing your mind. You’re writhing against him as he smirks at you. “Do you want more? I can keep going, baby. I’ll go slow, soft, just like this.”

He gets a bit breathy at the end, his free hand comes up to cup your face as the one holding yours tenses for a moment. His head drops onto your shoulder as most of his body collapses onto you.

He’s still thrusting into you gently as he groans out against your neck. “Fuck me. You’re turning me into a fuckin’ teenager again.” He grunts out a whine into your skin. “Can’t fuckin’ control shit. O-oh I wanna make you cum again, sweetheart.” His hips speed up as he rambles to you. You lean away from him a bit, forcing his head from your shoulder, and turn to look at him.

He looks so wrecked. His lips are trembling, glossy, and red from all his biting. You didn't even notice. His eyes are on yours but they regularly lose focus, rolling into his head with a groan. “You’re makin’ me feel so fucking good, love. I just want you to feel as good- I wanna make you cum again.” He sounds more desperate than you could’ve ever imagined, your hand slides up the back of his neck and buries itself in his hair, scratching at his scalp softly, causing his eyes to cross lightly as he moans against you, hips stuttering. “Let me. Let me, let me. Let me pl-lease”

His unabashed begging has you clenching around him erratically, pulling a ruined groan from his lips. “M-make me cum again, Joel. C’mon, baby. I want-” He’s already moaning into your mouth as you speak, his hips fucking into you unsteadily. You’re already close from the intensity of the moment, Joel’s hand cradling your face, your hand in his hair. His head is resting against yours, forehead to forehead but his eyes are still open, piercing your soul and your heart with the love that's residing in them, it has your pussy clenching around him desperately. He’s moaning out shamelessly, loudly, and right into your face, into your mouth.

“I’m gonna- I need you to c-cum. Holy sh-” You cut him off with a wet, searing kiss that’s mostly groans and whines into the mouth of the other. Your hips lift off the bed to buck into him softly, grinding your clit into the patch of curls that rests on his pelvis. He’s smiling at your movements, the contrast in how they were when he started with you.

“Y-yeah. Good, baby. Soft. Just l-like that, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ pure.” His eyes roll back into his head as your pussy begins to flutter around him. You can feel it this time, building inside you. The coil in your stomach tightens as you feel the angelic feeling inch back into your veins. Your hands grip his hair more desperately, pulling his ear to your lips as your orgasm begins to spill over.

“I’m- I’m cumming, Joey.” You’re voice stabs into him. The high-pitched and desperate, shocked innocence in it has him twitching inside you. His pace is ruined the moment you utter those words into his ear. He can feel his eyes shoot to the back of his head as he falls into your shoulder again and starts to cum inside you.

It’s more than heavenly, cumming at the same time as you. His cock is throbbing, shooting out thick, heavy, ropes of his cum inside you as your pussy pulses in time with him, milking him for everything he has. He can’t breathe, all the air has punched out of him as he tries to warn you that he’s cumming.

He wants to moan out for you, call your name over and over to hear you work yourself up into those whining moans you can’t help but let out. He gathers enough strength to push himself up and look at you. He feels like a whole new round of cum spews out of him at the sight. Your eyes are crossed as you moan out at the ceiling. He’s vaguely aware of the way your hand has twisted and tightened in his hair as you cum, your nails digging into his other hand.

He’s smiling through the second round of cum that pumps into you, deliriously happy with how hard he’s made you cum. You sound like you’re in the same situation as him, all the air suddenly gone from your lungs. You’re just letting out barely perceptible moans of his name on loop.

His thighs shake as his dick finally stops pouring into you. He looks down at the ring of white sitting on the base of his dick and groans. He looks back up at you, wanting to show you the mess you’ve made on him but you’re still so far gone. Your pussy pulses around him arrhythmically as you mutter up at the ceiling, your hand stroking through his hair subconsciously.

He’s able to come down before you. He pulls out and lays next to you, his head on your chest while he’s muttering those same, soft praises into your ear as your soul tries to find its way back to your body again. You follow the sound of his low praises, grounding you and pulling you back to reality. “-baby. I’m so in love with you. Thank you so fuckin’ much for waitin’ for me, I know it was hard, but I love you so fuckin’ much. You’re so incredible, so so incredible, baby. The best lady I know, the only lady I wanna know. You-” You have a faint, tired smile spreading across your face as he goes on, sounding more out of it than you feel.

“I love you so much, Joel.” You mean to say it softly, fondly but it comes out as something more like a sob. He gasps and looks up at you, that’s when you notice the tears that have escaped your eyes. “This is so embarrassing…” Your hands wipe at your escapee tears furiously as Joel watches you in shock.

“Hey,” He starts to wipe some of your tears away alongside you, although much more softly than your own hands. “ S’not embarrasin’.” He places an endearing kiss to your lips. “I think it’s so fuckin’ cute. The cutest things I’ve seen in years, honestly.”

You giggle at his exaggeration and kiss his cheeks. “I’m bein’ serious, baby.” He’s giggling too now, placing kisses all over your face, stopping every tear that slips out with his lips.

“I love you so much, Joel.” You take a deep breath as his kisses slow. “It feels like my heart is being choked, squeezed, and like thrown around in my chest whenever I’m with you. I don’t even have the vocabulary to explain how much I feel for you.”

His eyes are wide and a bit watery as you speak. One hand is on the top of your head, running over your hair as you speak while the other is on your him, his thumb stroking over the skin, sometimes lifting to draw specific patterns. “I wish I had a way to make you feel what I feel toward you, Joel. It’s so fucking much. I feel like it’s gonna explode and pour out of every orifice.” He chuckles and kisses you again, this one feels more emotional, more loving, grateful, and comforting.

“There you go, talkin’ all proper again.” He kisses you again shortly. “I- I feel the same way darlin’. Except I know even less words to use to explain it to ‘ya. Fuck I- I fuckin’ I wish I could tell ‘ya. You- You feel like- like my whole existence. If that makes sense… No, no it doesn’t, does it? Damn. I- Shit.” You place a hand on his face and make him look at you.

“You don’t have to say as many things as I did. You’ve already shown me that you love me through your actions… through this. I didn’t even know it could be like that, Joel. That it could- could feel that… good. I didn’t know it was a thing, and then you came in- with all your love and softness, and you showed me a whole new side of everything. I already know… is what I’m trying to say. I know you love me, Joel. I just hope you know that I love you.”

A single tear slips out of his baby cow eyes and he quickly wipes it away with a smile. “I- I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” He smiles wider and brighter than you’ve ever seen, he’s blinding you with its beauty before laying back down on the bed next to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you onto him.

“You’re gonna stay, right? Sleep in here with me?” You shake your head disapointedly against his stomach.

“Obviously, I’m staying here, Joel.” The sigh of relief he lets out almost breaks your heart. You place a few kisses on his belly for reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at your words and sounds far away, sleepy, adorable. “Okay… Good. Good, I want you to stay… ‘M gettin’ tired though, honey.” As if on cue, a yawn makes its way up and out of your mouth. “Yeah, me too. Goodnight, Joey.”

He sighs, and you can’t see it, but a smile splits his face the moment he hears the nickname. “G’night, my love.”

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

#joel miller #joelxreader #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us smut #the last of us #luvrxsmut #luvrxfics #smut #nsft #joel the last of us #sub joel miller

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ventithedrunkbardehe · 1 year

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Hello, if you write angst, may I request luxiem x reader, where in the process of time travel, they lost reader. It can end with a reunion or anything you want.

If you don't write angst, may I request a any xsoleil boys x short reader, with anything you want.

Hello hello! I like this idea os let's get started shall we? Also I will still write for Mysta even after he graduates.

Luxiem loosing then reuniting with their s/o

Vox the Voice Demon, well, as everyone knew him in the in the Sengoku Period and mostly in the Akuma Castle. You were one of Vox's closer servant who was always by his side. There were many rumors going thru the people in the castle that the two of you were together, or just someone that he used for his own pleasure, but that wasn't really the case.

The two of you were generally close cause the two of you had many things in common, and could talk about a lot of stuff, like for an example, cooking. You never guessed that this man likes to cook but well, he does to your suprise. He also kinda opened up to you and you opened up to him too, so you guys were big safespots for eachother. The two of you just went to hangout with eachother but some of them ended up as a date, and well it was another occasion of a hangout that turned into a date when he asked you out. You said yes and well, now the rumors were now true. The two of you were officially dating.

Everything was good until the war had started. Vox asked his most trusted man to get you somewhere safe. Almost everyone except for your little group. The 5 soldiers and you watched as Vox was trying to fight the Shogunate's soilders were getting killed by Vox but then eventually overpowered him. As you felt your heart break after the Shogunate left victorious and ran away with the remaining people.

It took weeks to months to recover yourself from that war that happened, you tried going back living your life as it was but it was a pain living without the person that you needed the most in your life. Eventually more and more weeks that turned into moths that turned into years have passed and you gave up on your life even and even more.

It was another painful day in your life that you woke up to. You moved on with your life since Vox died, or well that's what you thought. You went on your day like you did for the past few years. You were walking on the market-street as someone came up next to you. You didn't really care until the person took your bag out of your hand and started packing more tihngs into it. You looked up at the person ready to antigonize with him until you realized who was standing next to you.

"V-Vox?" - your voice barely came out from your throath. He looked down at you and smiled then wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder and pulled you closer, looking down at you as you looked up to him. "I-... I thought you died..." - you said as your voice became more and more shakely.

"Well, I did not as you can see that." - he smiles at you. "Is there anything else you'd like?" - he asked as he gave a kiss on your forehead. You shook you head then he payed for the stuff that you and mostly him collected for the meal.

"H-how? W- what happened?" - you asked as he escorted you from the shop as he always did.

"I'll tell you everything okay? But now, I need to start plannign for the next war... since I have Kindred on my side now too." - he said as he looked foward and saw his newest army ready to fight.

Ike always liked books since he was a little kid, and so did you. The two of you met back in his early years as a writer. You always read his books, you were always the first one to buy his newest book, and well... you were on a trip to the market again to buy his newet book as usual. You arrived to the bookshop and bought the book, as you started walking away you bumped into someone and the book fell out from your hands as you fell down too.

"I-I'm sorry-" - you said as you tried getting up, your face red from the embarrasment.

"Oh no, it was my fault... are you okay" - a soft voice spoke to you. You opened your eyes and you saw him... Ike Eveland himself. Your favourite novelist, in person infront of you, and you had to meet him with you bumping into him... 'How embarraing' - you thought to yourself. Ike offered you a hand to help you up that you accepted.

"I suppose this is also yours." - He said with a smile as he gave you the book that you just bought.

"Thank you..." - you said as your took it from him.

"So you're the one that the book-shopkeeper keep telling me about." - he said with a smile on his face.

"What do you mean?" - you asked as you looked at him with widened eyes. He chukles at your expression.

"He always tells me when I drop by that there's a person who's always the first one to buy my books." - he smiles. "Would you like a signiture?" - he asks as he looks at you.

"I-... I'd love that but y-you don't have to... you're probably busy..." - you say with a happiness with sadness in your voice.

"I'm quite free right now." - he says as he signs your book. A blush creeps to your face as you thank him. "And also, I'd like to get to know the person better who supported me since the start of my career. So if you're free right now, would you like to go to the café with me?" - he asks you as he gives you back the book with a smile. Your eyes widen once more, the blush becoming more visible on your face as you nod.

The two of you started to hangout more and more after that day, and eventually got together.

It was another simple day, you were staying over at Ike's place, who was at his desk, writing his newest book. It was already late and you tried to get him to stop and go to bed since the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more and more visible. But he just replied with, "I'll finish this page and I'll go. You should go to sleep, no need to wait for me." - he said as he continued writing. You tried waiting for him but you were too tired and ended up going to sleep alone again. The next day when you woke up you were alone in the bed as usual. You got up to search for him in his workroom where you saw his still unfinished work but no signs of him. You went into the kitchen, into the livingroom, into the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found. You started to worry but calmed yourelf with 'He's probably just out getting more suplies' but the end of the day came sooner then you expected and he was nowhere to be found and you were alone in the novelist's house. It was cold and empty jut for one person. You couldn't go to sleep knowing that he wasn't near you, so you took one of his shirts out from his wardrobe that smelled like him and went to sleep sucsessfully. But he didn't return the next day or the rest of the days. You felt hopeless... You thought he was sick of you and he left you purposfully, so you tried moving on ith your life.

It has been a few years since the incident happen, then you heard a knock on your front door. You put the book that you were reading to the side as you got up to open the door. As you opened the door, a familiar male figure stood infront of you. You didn't want to belive your eyes as you froze down.

"I'm back..." - Ike said as tears filled his eyes, and so did yours.

"Welcome home..." - You said as you jumped into his arms. "What happened?... where did you go?..." - you started asking a lot of questions from him as he held you tight.

"I'll tell you everything." - he said a he kissed your temple. As the two of you calmed down he told you everything that happened to him.

Our golden retriver- I mean Luca, our "evil" mafia boss. He's a big softie now, but he wasn't quite a big one when the two of you met.

It was just another day in your life, as you walked home from work you were thinking about making a shortcut to home, so you turned into the alley, and well you heard two people talking but you could barely undertand what they were saying, but you caught some of it.

"Is this her?" - asked the taller man.

"I think so..." - said the other as he looked at you walking past them. As you left them you picked up your pace but they caught up easily and put a cloth on you covering your mouth and nose causing you to pass out not so long after doing it.

You woke up in a room, you tried getting up from the chair that you were sitted on but you were tied to it.

"I would surroundings first if I were you." - a man said as he walked infront of you. "Do you know why are you here?" - he asked while smiling. The man had blone hair, a black dress shirt which's buttons around his chest were fighting for their life, leather gloves and white pants with black stripes on it. He looked handsome, like the man of your dreams.

"N-no? Did I do something wrong?" - you asked as your voice shaked a bit.

"I mean... you weren't the one who done something but your husband did." - he said as he started ggetting closer to you.

"M-my husband? I- I don't have a husband... I don't even have a boyfriend." - you said as you looked at him with widened eyes.

"W-wait... you're telling me that you're not Aya Cox? - he asked you with a worry in his voice which he tried to hide.

"N-no? I'm Y/N..." - you answered.

"A-are you really not Mrs. Cox?" - he asked as he started to panic even more.

"I'm really not her... you can check my ID if you don't belive me." - you said a you tried to hold back your laughter. He took your ID and as he read your name his face turned white like he just saw the dead.

"I-I'm very sorry-" - he said as he untied you. "To take a better look at you... you don't have as visible wrinkle's as she has." - he said as he stared at your face.

"I-... thank you i guess?" - You said as you stood up from the chair.

"Anytime!" - he laughed a bit then noticed your annoyed expression. "I-... sorry." - he said.

"It's okay... can you just let me go home now please?" - you asked as you took your stuff from the table.

"A-ahh yes... but... if you tell anyone that this happened-" -he sarted as he came behind you and lifted your chin to make you look at him above your shoulder. "You'll be my target then for real... and I won't how mercy." - he said with a darken expression on his face then let your chin go. "Anyways... Y/N... as an apology, can I take you to the best café in the city?" - he asked a his expression compleatly changed from a sadistic, blood thirsty mafia boss to a puppy who wouldn't hurt a fly.

"I- emm.. sure?" - you said as you tuned around taken aback a bit by his personallity change.

"Where do you live? I'll pick you up at 5pm." - he said. You told him and you thought that the drung's effect was still on you, cause you could've sweared to god that you saw his tail wiggling.

And well, he insited on taking you home too, and wouldn't let you say no. And then the next day came and you were going on a date with a mafia boss. The date went well and you questioned yourself multiple times that was Luca really a mafia boss or he wa just a child in a grown up's body. But well anyways, it was obvious that he fell in love with you on the day the two of you met, caue after that said apology date, he asked you to go on more dates with him, and since you couldn't say no for his adorableness, the two of you went on many dates and well, eventually got together. And after three years into your relationship he even asked you to marry him. (I-I'm not Luca biased okay?... I am but anyways-)

He tried to keep you out from his criminal life as much as he could since he didn't want you to get into danger, which he managed sucsessfully. He'd always ask some of his most trusted man to look after you on the streets when he couldn't be there with you, and if anything happened to you under the man's watch, he sweared that he'll kill them.

Well, it was just another simple day as you went over to your shared place, but he wasn't there so you thought he'll be back soon, but that didn't happen. You went to sleep thinking that when you'll wake up he'll be there. But he wasn't there. You asked his men if someone knew anything but noone did. You started getting more and more worried but still tried to stay calm. Many days went by, which turned into weeks, which turned into months then years. You'd think you've gotten over him but no. You still wore the engagement ring on your finger, or just kept it close to you. You didn't know wheter he was alive or not you were worried very much, but durring the day you couldn't show it, but when you got home your broke down a lot of times. The first nights alone you couldn't even sleep without him so you wore one of his shirt to sleep.

A few years passed since he went missing and you felt giving up on him coming back.

You were watching tv as you heard a knock on the door. "Coming!" - you shouted as you stood up from the couch and opened the door. You couldn't even open the door normally as the perosn standing on the other side flung it open and hugged you. If it weren't for his big chest in your face you would've thought that the one hugging you was a random person and so, it didn't take you long to hug your beloved back who was now crying and hugging you tighter as you hugged him back.

"Where were you?" - you asked him as you started to tear up too.

"I'm sorry... I'm really sorry... I don't know what happened back then, I just got sucked into some kind of hole and jumped into the future." - he said.

"Y-you what?!" - you pulled away from the hug and looked at his teary face.

"Yeah, i-if you don't belive me, you can ask M-Mysta Rias, cause he ended up there with me too." - he said a he wiped away his tears.

"I belive you, but anyways... first you should calm down and then tell me everything that happened..." - you said as you closed the door.

"Mhm... but can I get another hug first?" - he asked you and you couldn't denied even if you wanted to.

Since Mysta was a famous detective back in his original world, so I could only imagine that you met him when he was out in a case, and you were involved in it too, and you were a great helper of his. So you technically were his little Watson to his Sherlock. You guys started hanging out after that a lot, solved more and more cases togheter. The more time the two of you spent togheter the better you guys got to know eachother.

On a beautiful night he took you to one of the higher places in the city and asked you out. He was a bit akward but you thought it was adorable, and well you said yes and the two of your started dating.

Everything was good until he got sucked into the hole and got transported to another world and you were left alone. You didn't have time to process what happened at first since there were still a lot of cases that needed to be solved, but everynight when you arrived home in your shared apartment you broke down. You didn't know if he was alive or not, you didn't know if he'll be back ever again or not.

Crying yourself for the first few months didn't really help so you started busying yourself with work the cases that were still unsolved were slowly solved by you.

It's been almost 2 years that he was gone, but he somehow came back, and well the two of you were finally reunited.

"M-Mysta... you're finally back..." - you stood infront of the opened door, tears forming in your eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm still in one piece." - he said while having a big smile on his face opening his arms. You took no longer then a second to jump into them, burrying your face into his chest as you broke down completely.

"I have another case to solve at another city... Would like to come with me?" - he asked as he wiped your tears. You told him "Yes" and the next day the two of you were on your way for another city to solve a crime there. Throught the road he told you everything that happened to him, you could see the happiness and the sadness behind his eyes as you guys were talking on the train.

You met Shu in the modern world. You don't know how the two of you ended up together cause, one day you guys were still talking as friends, then the next day the two of you were dating.

The two of you met on the street at night as you were walking home. You weren't really looking foward, you mostly looked at you phone, watching your favourite Nijisanji EN streamer. As you were walking you didn't notice that someone took your wallet out of your bag, just only when a young man came up to you and tapped your shoulder. As you turned to the person who tapped your shoulder, you froze in one place as you saw the one and only Shu Yamino.

"Miss, this is yours?" - he asked as he held your wallet in his hand.

"A-ah yes thank you..." - you said a bit embarrased as you took back your wallet.

"It's alright, just try to pay attention of what's going around you not just only to your phone" - Shu said as he smiled. "Well then, be careful out there." - he said while still smiling as he turned around and started walking away. You were still embarrased and frozen in one place as Shu started walking away.

"W-wait!" - you shouted after him. He stopped and turned back to face you. "I-I'd like to thank it more properly..." - you said as you looked at him. "M-may I invite you to the local café?" - you asked hoping that he'd say yes. And he did, so the two of you met up at the local café the next day then the day after that too and again and the two of you started getting to know eachother more and more, then eventually became friends. The two of you hung out more and more and then just got together.

When he streamed you never bothered him, never wen't into the room, waited outside patiently while you watched his stream. Months and years passed as he arrived to his last stream. And well, it was his time to go home. You knew what you got yourself into at the start of the relationship but it still hurt seeing him go, even tho you both promised eachother that you'll keep in contact, but it wasn't going to be the same as being in the same room with eachother.

The two of you bid farwell to eachother and he left. You were alone again, you were friends with the other Nijisanji EN members but it was weird without Shu. Even tho you were with friends, you still felt alone. Since he left, you always went home more early cause it's just didn't feel right.

You eventually moved on with your life after a few months had passed, the two of you eventually fell apart and started speaking less and less with eachother.

It was another day in your life as you were just watching (Your fav streamer)'s stream as you heard a knock on your door. You turned your phone's volume down, cause you thought it was your neighbour who was going to complain about you watching the stream too loudly. Then you heard another knock so you put your phone down and went to the door. You opened the door and said "What?" from reflex. The person who was standing infront of you started laughing and then you realized who was standing infront of you.

"You never change do you." - he said as he wiped the tears from his eyes from the laughter. "So... did you miss me or you're just gonna stand there until the sun goes down?" - he asked as he opened his arms. You didn't really hesitate and jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you as you burried your face into his neck.

#fanfic #fanfiction #luxiem #luca kaneshiro x reader #mysta rias x reader #ike eveland x reader #vox akuma x reader #shu yamino x reader #luca kaneshiro #mysta rias #ike eveland #vox akuma #shu yamino #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji #nijien #x reader

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 26 days

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i don't really mind what character you use but if you are comfortable with it could you add a one sided crush the reader has on the rover (female) and jinhsi also I'm not sure how you feel about giving kids trauma so sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but can you make the reader come from a bad family or had something really horrific happen in front of them {like a house fire or someone they like getting hurt} leading them to being overly protective of the playable characters

-from a certain witch from a far off land

Alr I'll do Jinhsi and Rover...However. No romance—as your original request was a kid/minor Reader. Ik there's nothing wrong with teen romance, but my rules have stated: all children are strictly platonic.

(PS - Anon ur name is so long 😭 how can I remember this glorious title?)

Teen!Reader, the...OTHER Sentinel of Jinzhou

You get the gist of it—you were minding your own business, enjoying the content of a very cool game...And boom, magical transfer into the game. You're freaking out, and next thing you know...

Welcome, you're god now. Rejoice in your own presence.

Did I mention that you've also bumped into two very special people yet? No? Too late, I just did :)

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Rover

The first time Rover met you, Rover felt 1000 times older. Like, to Jue, the draconic Sentinel of Jinzhou, they was the Arbiter General that practically helped establish the civilization. With you in the picture...and your physique...

Yes, you make them feel like a very ancient elder. Someone get this Rover a walking chair or a normal sitting chair. Maybe even a doctor, they might pass away from heart failure.

All jokes aside, Rover really gets not wanting to be special. Alright, this person's been there—everyone around them were hot on their heels the moment they opened their eyes, and that's not even mentioning the Black Shores, Jinzhou's government, the Fractsidus...

"No worries, [Y/N]. I won't tell a soul unless you're ready to tell others first." They keep your secret of being the other Sentinel of Jinzhou. Did I mention that their warm smile also gives them bonus points? They make you feel protected, and they quite literally will protect you should the situation present itself dangerous.

Also, if you want to talk to Jue but need moral support, look no further. Just ask Rover. They did it once, they'll do it again.

All in all? 10/10, this Rover ain't gonna be snitching you out to the city over their dead body.

Jinhsi

The first time she met you and realized you were the other Sentinel of Jinzhou, she was evidently shocked. You were barely an adult—you had both the mentality and the physique of a teenager! You were almost like her, in a sense, and little to nothing at all like Jue...except for maybe the power you wield.

She isn't exactly sure what to do at the beginning. She wants to bring you to the City Hall, but you were only a teenager, both in mind and heart. She didn't want to restrict you to responsibilities you barely even knew of yourself. In a case, you were almost like Rover in that way—maybe you forgot your memories of your past as a Sentinel. Or maybe you were reborn as a human Sentinel.

Regardless of the many possibilities of what to do to help you, Jinhsi's first step never came anywhere near to revealing to all of Jinzhou of the whereabouts of their other Sentinel, supposedly lost to time. You needed time to get used to everything, and she can provide that time. After all, nobody knew you were back (yet).

"Trust me, Sentinel [Y/N], I will ensure your safety as much as I possibly can. You are safe in Jinzhou." Jinhsi smiles a reassuring smile. "The people of Jinzhou will always welcome newcomers with open arms, regardless of their upbringing. We will continue to uphold our traditions, for this is something we, as a nation, are proud to continue."

Safe to say, you'll be in good hands. Such a shame though you'll have to be the one to smack Jinhsi around a few times to make sure she doesn't overwork herself. Just because she's supposedly an adult doesn't mean it's okay, okay? (Team up with Sanhua, and you'll probably win)

No matter what you choose (leave or stay) to do in Jinzhou, Jinhsi will make sure you are safe and free from your supposed bonds of being their Sentinel. After all, you do want to experience life at its finest, right?

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Man, I really need to catch up with Wuwa's 1.1 story SOBBING. I was so excited for Xiangli Yao and Zhezhi too lol—ugh, my motivation really just keeps decreasing bro. I'll try to catch up as soon as possible! Hopefully I'll do it soon— (Watch me accidentally take 30 years just to catch up sobbing)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#wuthering waves brainrot #platonic wuthering waves #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x y/n #self aware wuthering waves #wuwa rover #wuwa rover x reader #rover x reader #female rover #male rover #jinhsi x reader #wuwa jinhsi #platonic relationships

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journey-to-the-attic · 3 months

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3rd anni req 19: [INFERNAL FRIENDS] barbatos / tea party

ao3 link

note: requested by "average robot enjoyer"! i'm fairly sure i do know which tumblr user this belongs to, but since you didn't specify your handle i've refrained from tagging you, just in case - hopefully you see this! (this takes place prior to the other two infernal friends requests)

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

There isn’t a precedent for what happens when a servant of the prince erupts into flames mid-way through a gathering. To be honest, Barbatos hadn’t thought it would ever be necessary.

Satan eyes him with impressive serenity. “...are you feeling alright?”

He looks down at the crimson flames dancing around his feet. To be fair, there isn’t any heat. “I feel well, yes.”

“I’m going to make a call,” Lucifer announces, then pulls out his phone. “Diavolo, your butler is on fire.”

Perhaps it’s a good thing that the Young Master is running late to this particular occasion, Barbatos thinks placidly as Lucifer listens to his response with a small grimace. Then the flames climb rapidly up his legs, and his surroundings fold in on themselves.

The world compresses to a sharp point in a crunch of indiscernible colours and sound, then expands again into the shape of a living room with peeling wallpaper. Barbatos takes in a shallow breath, then looks down and makes eye contact with IK - the Young Master’s new human friend.

Now it makes sense. Barbatos has only met her once, and she spent most of that time hiding behind Diavolo’s wings, but he vaguely recalls being told that she’d been given his summoning ritual. Still, he hadn’t expected her to ever use it.

“Hello,” He says pleasantly. “Did you mean to summon me? Or were you perhaps seeking the Young Master?”

IK shakes her head.

“You wanted to see me, then?”

A nod.

“Why?”

IK gestures at him, turns around, and very purposefully walks out of the room. Barbatos, understanding quickly, follows - pausing to extinguish the candles on the carpet with his tail.

She’s waiting for him at the end of the hallway. As soon as she spots him emerging, she darts quickly into the next room. (Barbatos allows himself a private smile - though she isn’t nearly as chatty, IK reminds him quite uncannily of a particular young demon. Nevertheless, he resolves himself to his usual brand of distant attentiveness.)

“Would you like to show me something?” He asks, glancing around the kitchen. Hmm. Well-maintained, but a little messy.

IK points up. Barbatos opens the cupboard, as directed, and finds a tissue-wrapped teapot.

He turns around. The child gazes hopefully up at him.

“I see,” He says after a moment. “You would like me to make you some tea. Is that it?”

IK’s eyes light up as she nods. After a moment, very quietly, she adds, “Please.”

Well... clearly he hadn’t been needed at that gathering, if the threat of him being reduced to a pile of ash had been so unremarkable to the others. Making tea is hardly a heavy task for him, anyway. He supposes he has the time to spare for a companion of the Young Master.

There isn’t anything nearly as fine as the castle’s crockery in this kitchen, and it takes a while for him to navigate around all the clutter - but, finally, he has everything laid out prettily on the table, without so much as a speck of a stain on his gloves. A job well done, he should think.

IK stands blankly in the middle of the kitchen - where she’d remained, unmoving, while Barbatos worked. He dusts off his hands, clears his throat delicately, and pulls out a chair.

“Please, young miss - sit,” He says, as courteously as he can.

A beat passes. IK slowly approaches the chair and clambers up, looking entirely bewildered.

“Very good.” He sets a cup in front of her, then pours out a careful measure of tea. Lightly floral, a lovely rosy colour - quite acceptable. He takes the liberty of pouring himself a cup as well.

IK watches him, wide-eyed, as he seats himself on the opposite side of the table, and blows delicately on his cup before taking a sip. He sets it down, then quirks an eyebrow at her, and she stiffens a little.

Then, eyes steeling, she attempts to copy him. The cup and saucer clatter together rather unelegantly, and she puffs like an angry little bird, but Barbatos feels something about his resolve soften nevertheless.

“How is it?” He asks after a moment.

IK blinks at him over the rim of her cup, then sets it down again. He glances into it. It’s empty?

To be able to completely drain a teacup, without looking as if you’re doing so, is something of a feat. Barbatos tries not to look too impressed. “...well done. Was it not hot?”

IK looks him dead in the eye. Then her face scrunches up.

“Do you need some ice?” He asks patiently. A head shake. “Is it not to your taste?”

She looks a little shamed, then nods. He sighs lightly, but smiles. “Not to worry. You are young - your palate will refine with time. For now, shall we add a little sugar?”

He stands up to retrieve the jar from the cupboard. As he touches the handle, IK suddenly says from behind him, “Don’t you add milk?”

Barbatos pauses, then turns around. “Pardon?”

IK looks at the tea set, then back at him. “You… add milk. To the tea. And— and when the girls play, the tea isn’t real…”

She trails off. Barbatos stands there for a moment, then finally realises why she’d looked so perplexed as soon as he started actually filling the pot.

“I see,” He concludes after a moment. “You only wanted to play.”

IK nods slowly.

“My apologies. I'm accustomed to acting in my capacity as a—” He cuts himself off, realising that IK probably understands his sentences about as much as he understands Leviathan’s slang, and instead says, “—well, I’m afraid that I am not used to this sort of thing. I could call…”

Then he pauses to think about it. If IK had wanted to play tea parties with Diavolo, she would’ve summoned him in the first place. She’s obviously picked Barbatos for a reason, even if it isn’t for his actual tea-brewing skills, and he’d hate to let her down now.

"Perhaps you should teach me,” He suggests instead, returning to the table with the sugar jar in hand.

IK stares hard at it, then admits, “I don’t know how to play either.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t play with the girls…” She blinks, then adds, very fast, “I want to. But I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll think I’m stupid because I don’t talk.”

“You’re talking to me, are you not?”

“That’s different.” IK goes quiet for a moment. “...you’re supposed to say clink.”

“Clink?” He repeats.

“Like this.” IK picks her cup up, then reaches it across the table and knocks it against his. “Clink.”

“Clink,” Barbatos repeats again, returning the gesture this time. “And what else do you do?”

“You pretend to eat things,” She says slowly, then mimics taking a bite out of something with surprising accuracy. “Mm. Wow. Tasty.”

It comes out so completely monotone that Barbatos has to press his lips together to prevent a chuckle. IK seems to notice anyway.

“I don’t get that part either.” She looks at the tea set again, then adds, “I just wanted to try. It’s lots of pretending. And lots of talking.”

“You don’t have to play exactly as they do,” Barbatos tells her, beginning to pour her another cup, this time with a half-spoon of sugar added. “You don’t have to talk to me if you’d rather not, either.”

IK thinks about it for a moment. “...no, I like talking to you. You say big words like you mean them.”

“I’d rather think that’s because I do,” He replies, disguising a surprised (and rather pleased) smile. “You will learn to use big words with time, as well.”

“Your name is a big word.”

“It is,” He acknowledges. “You’d be surprised how often even other demons spell it incorrectly.”

IK squints at him, as if asking if that’s a challenge, then starts, “B-A-R-B-E—”

“A.”

“—I— what?”

“B-A-R-B-A,” He corrects.

“B-A…” IK stumbles, then finally settles on, “Toss.”

“B-A-R-B-A-toss,” He agrees, nodding. “Very good.”

IK nods as well, then picks up her teacup. She copies him once more: blowing lightly, then taking a careful sip. She’s already doing it with much more poise than the first time.

She looks thoughtful when she lowers the cup - she’s refrained from drinking it all at once this time. Barbatos holds his own cup out again, and IK quickly reaches over to knock hers against it.

“Clink,” She says, happily this time. “This is fun.”

“What sort of games do you play with the Young Master?” Barbatos asks after a moment. Both of them are rather easily amused, it seems. “Ah - Diavolo, I mean.”

“Young Master,” IK repeats a little sceptically. “Um… he reads to me. I have to teach him games, as well.”

“And you talk to him?”

“Sometimes. When I feel like it.” IK taps her little fingers on her saucer. “...talking is hard.”

“I think you are doing a superb job,” Barbatos tells her, and means it. IK gives him a smile more warming than the tea. “The Young Master speaks very highly of you, as well.”

“Why do you call him that?” She asks, scrunching her nose.

“As his servant, it would be discourteous to address him too familiarly.”

“You’re a servant?” IK leans across the table with wide eyes. “...how much does he pay you?”

“Pardon?” He didn’t know a child of this age knew to consider wages. “Well— it isn’t often monetary—”

“He doesn’t give you any money?”

“I receive payment enough,” He says, and decides to leave it at that.

IK’s eyes are owlishly wide, but she doesn’t question him further. Instead, she asks quietly, “What does dis-court-us mean?”

Barbatos explains it, and a great many other things - talking for long enough for the remaining tea in the pot to go stone cold, so absorbed that he doesn’t realise that the front door has opened until IK’s father walks into the kitchen. He barely flinches upon seeing him, and Barbatos gets the feeling from his loose handshake and absent introduction that the man’s mind is utterly elsewhere.

Though his weary eyes brighten when IK hurries to greet him - she's gone quiet again, but in a way that Barbatos takes to mean that no words need to be said. He decides to excuse himself soon after that, wary of intruding, but offers IK a warm smile and deep bow when she enthusiastically waves goodbye.

He steps seamlessly through one of his own doors, back to the Devildom and emerges in the castle's entrance hall. A moment later, Diavolo is already upon him.

“So?” He asks eagerly. “How did it go?”

“Young Master,” Barbatos greets with an incline of his head. After a moment’s thought, he admits, “I do believe everything you have told me is true.”

#3rd anni event #writing #obey me barbatos #jtta ik #infernal friends au

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salemshotspot · 3 months

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USE YOUR WORDS

Drew McIntyre x CM Punk

Song Fic

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

DESC: Punk helps Drew use his words after a night Drew would rather forget

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MDNI//Swearing//Not Proof Read//Alcohol Mentions//Implied Mentions Of Being Drunk//Simultaneously Hate And Sympathy Fucking//Characters Acting Out Of Character//Hints Of Using Sex As A Coping Mechanism//Implied Self-Worth Issues//Angst If You Squint//Dog Collar And Chain//Implication Of Collaring As Ownership//Choking Via Collar And Chain//Generic Pet Names//Praise//Is It Still Cock Warming If It's In The Mouth//Leg Humping//One Case Of Slight Degrading//Oral//Slight Hint At Overstimulation

RED >> Song Lyrics

A/N >> This is set during 2024 Clast At The Castle and some of the song lyrics are changed ever so slightly to make grammatical sense :)

TAGS: @jobikinn [ik you wanted to be tagged in the upcoming punkintyre fic but I tagged you here too, lmk if you don't want to be tagged in other upcoming punkintrye fics :)]

Enjoy!

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Drew's heart raced as he finally pinned Damien and after fifteen long seconds passed a referee raced towards the ring and began counting Drew's pin, 'this is it' Drew thought, unable to contain his excitement. Drew was pulled from his excitement as the referee's hand hitting the ring didn't echo through his ears for a third and final time.

As Drew's head darted towards the referee his eyes widened in shock, his eyes must be playing a trick on him, he blinked quickly in an attempt to refocus his eyes but no matter how much he blinked the figure in front of him wouldn't change. It was Phil Brooks; it was the one man he couldn't bring himself to admit he didn't completely despise; CM Punk.

Blinded by his rage as Phil begins to taunt him, Drew took his focus from Damien and backed Phil into the corner of the ring, wrapping his large hand around Phil's neck, causing the man's mouth to contort into a triumph smirk. As Drew's hand tightens around Phil's neck, Phil kicked Drew as hard as he could between his legs, running out of the ring as a real referee made his way back to the ring. Consumed by pain and anger, Drew didn't notice as Damien threw himself over him, he didn't notice as the referee began to count, he didn't even fully notice he had just lost the title again, all he was focused on was getting out of the ring and finding Phil.

As Drew was making his way backstage he locked eyes with Paul 'Triple H' Levesque and to say Drew was angry would've been an offensive understatement. Before he could even form a single thought Drew was practically running towards the older man. 'What the fuck was that' Drew bellowed as he wasn't told Phil was going to be there, let alone be told he was going to once again ruin his chance at the title he knew that, more than anyone else in the company, he deserved. In an attempt to both calm and contain the situation Paul suggested that they continue the conversation in his office to which Drew reluctantly agreed.

'Seriously Paul what is going on?' Drew once again questioned, eliciting a small sigh from Paul who answered in a tired voice; 'it's nothing personal Drew-' he began. Before he could continue Drew cut him off angrily; 'nothing personal?' he mocked before continuing in disbelief, 'Paul this isn't the first time you've arranged for that smug bastard to cheat me out of a title, how is this not personal.' Still attempting to keep the situation calm Paul took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding to Drew; 'the fans absolutely love what you and Phil have going on at the moment, it was simply a wise business move to have him come in and ruin your chance at the title again.' Drew couldn't believe what he was hearing, yes he understood that it was a 'wise business move' to have this happen but he couldn't get over the fact he wasn't consulted about this, it was like no one cared about him as a person, they merely saw him as a pawn in this whole thing. Unable to mask his frustrations, tears began to pool in Drew's eyes due to the intense anger he was feeling; before Paul could say anything Drew muttered loudly, 'fuck this company' before storming out of the office.

The thought of finding Phil no longer fuelled the fire within Drew, all he wanted to do now was get drunk enough to forget this entire thing, to forget the entire company; without a second thought Drew left the arena and headed to a nearby pub, the one good thing about being humiliated in his home country is he knew the places where he could drown his sorrows like the back of his hand.

As the hours slowly ticked by Drew couldn't help but delve into his subconscious thoughts, his thoughts that were only ever coaxed out by the manipulative aid of alcohol. Drew's hatred for Phil was something that was always exaggerated in the ring, their relationship outside of the ring was something much more complex. There was something beautifully tragic about the way their souls were intertwined; it was almost as if to exist without each other would be to live the life of an irreligious martyr but to exist together would condemn them to a glorious demise in the name of self-destruction.

As Drew continued to both resent and find comfort in the way his very being ached for the same man that made him angry enough to be so irrational, the very man his mind was fixated in rushed into the pub; a subtle worry hidden behind his unwavering expression. As he made his way over to Drew, Drew stood up to leave, causing Phil to raise an eyebrow at him and encouraging him to stop being so stubborn and to sit back down to which Drew reluctantly complied knowing he was probably too drunk to safely make his way out of the pub in this state.

Once both men had sat down there was a brief moment of agonising silence before Phil broke the silence; 'I never had you down as a sore loser' he attempted to joke to lighten the mood to no one's amusement but his own. Letting out a long, defeated sigh Drew replied in what was barely a whisper; 'Don't Phil' he briefly paused 'Not today, any day but today.' Phil frowned, he's never seen Drew so defeated, so miserable, no matter what happened there was always a soft glint in his eye, a glint which was determined to prove to the world that it hasn't defeated him; but now that glint Phil loved to see was gone, drowning in a pool of alcohol and although he would never admit it, seeing Drew like this terrified Phil. 'Come on it can't be that bad' Phil insisted to which Drew scoffed, taking another large sip of his beer, 'Not that bad?' He practically shouted, 'that entire company sees me as a joke and you think it's not that bad' Drew spat out as he attempted to stop tears forming in his eyes before lowering his voice; 'you know they didn't even tell me you were coming out tonight?' He sadly muttered.

Phil didn't know what to say so he did the only thing he could do in this moment of vulnerability which he wasn't used to being allowed to see from anyone, especially Drew, he never thought Drew would trust him enough to let him see him like this; 'I'm sorry' Phil said softly, his words causing Drew's head to instinctively turn towards him, it wasn't every day Drew heard that from Phil, 'I didn't know no one had told you.'

There was something about Phil's simple words that in Drew's drunken state made him feel heard, that made him feel like for the first time in a painfully long time somebody valued him enough to believe he was a person worthy of hearing. 'You've always been good with your words' Drew began 'do you remember that time we were running through a promo a while ago and I kept messing up?' Phil hummed in curious agreement as Drew continued, 'you said I'm no good with words' he let out a self-deprecating laugh 'well I'm worse with them now.' Phil confirmed he remembered the interaction and prompted him to continue speaking, 'you know I tried to talk to Paul earlier and I ended up just crying at him' Drew confessed.

Phil noticed Drew was steadily spiralling the more he drank, leading to Phil offering to take Drew home before he declined further and luckily for both of the men Drew almost immediately agreed. Phil was deceitfully strong causing him to be able to pull Drew up and carry him to his car with ease.

Once Phil neared Drew's house he noticed Drew begin to grow restless; 'are you ok?' Phil asked; Drew wanted nothing more than to ask Phil to stay the night because as much as he, at least on some level, hated Phil, he hated himself so much more. Although Drew was screaming at himself to just speak his mind was suddenly weighed down with words that felt too overdramatic to ever speak to anybody, especially not Phil. Drew sighed, thinking to himself 'tonight can't get much worse' before weakly asking Phil to not leave him alone tonight.

Phil couldn't help but smirk as he helped him into his house, jokingly teasing Drew; 'I've barely stuttered out a joke of a romantic and you want to be stuck to my tongue.' Drew rolled his eyes instantly regretting saying anything, 'oh please Punk' Drew teased 'you couldn't be romantic if you tried' he declared with a light chuckle.

Now inside the house Phil corned Drew, backing him against a wall immediately matching the Scottish man's attitude; 'oh yeah McIntyre? Well no one should ever feel like the greatest man in the world can't be romantic.' The physical closeness of the two men made Drew blush as he felt Phil's breath move towards his ear as he whispered 'and if you're as bad with your words as you're saying I'll definitely be staying because I don't want to forget how your voice sounds.'

Drew tried to think of a smart response but he came up short, unable to say anything, to which Phil responded; 'well that settles it I'm staying, my words are clearly all that you have so you'll need them just to get by.' Drew couldn't stop his mouth contorting into a smile as Phil said he'd stay, deep down Drew knew if he was sober he wouldn't have wanted Phil to stay but he also knew that no matter what he thought about Phil he was the only person who could make him forget every thought that was determined to destroy him.

Phil smirked as Drew smiled, his dark eyes seemingly filling with warmth, suddenly an idea crept into Phil's mind. Gently cupping Drew's face in his hand Phil softly spoke; 'wait here' he requested as he quickly went back to his car. Over the weekend Phil had a photoshoot commemorating the two year anniversary of his AEW dog collar match with MJF meaning that he happened to still have his collar and chain he wore in the back of his car. Phil grabbed the cool leather collar and pulled it close to him, the chain rattling as it was yanked upwards, before heading back to Drew.

As Phil re-entered the house, dog collar in hand and devilish smile plastered across his face, Drew's eyes widened at the sight of the collar; 'you're crazy if you think that's going anywhere near me' Drew quickly spoke. Without missing a beat Phil replied with a mocking smirk; 'now now' he began sarcastically, 'you said you're getting worse with your words so I'm going to help you.' While unclasping the dog collar, reaching his arms around Drew's neck he whispered almost compassionately; 'it's the least I can do after tonight.'

As Phil fitted the collar around Drew's throat he couldn't help the way his cock began to strain against his pants as his eyes examined the way his collar tightly hugged the taller man's throat. Phil could barely contain himself, he'd always secretly fantasied about Drew in his collar but he never imagined he would look this good; the way the leather clung to his throat, ever so slightly too small for the man, not enough to choke him but enough to make its presence known, the way Drew's eyes widen as Phil wrapped the chain of the collar around his hand practically terrified to let go; Phil never thought Drew would look this good at his mercy.

Drew's voice pulled both men's attention back to the room; 'what exactly are you going to do?' Drew questioned with a hint of curious anxiety lacing his voice to which Phil let out a chuckle and replied in a teasing manner, 'I put a collar around that throat of yours and you lose your hearing?' As Drew pouted and lowered his head Phil gently tightened his grip on the chain and raised it upwards, causing Drew's head to involuntarily lift as the two men's eyes met; 'I said I'm going to help you with your words McIntyre' Phil repeated in a more dominant tone.

Drew was practically falling apart at the sound of Phil's voice; he knew deep down it wasn't healthy to crave Phil's touch whenever he felt down but the hatred he felt for the man was quickly outshone the second he felt Phil's eyes grow both lustful and full of pity; although he hated himself for craving Phil, he knew this was the life he loved to lead.

Phil effortlessly pulled on the chain in his hand leading Drew to the living room and seated himself on the couch. As Drew attempted to sit next to Phil, Phil placed his hand on Drew's chest and gently but firmly pushed him down, causing Drew to end up kneeling on the floor in front of the man who had an increasingly smug look painting his face.

Looking down at the man kneeling before him Phil couldn't help but smile as he ran his slender fingers through the man's black locks before speaking in a voice which Drew was desperate enough to perceive as loving; 'good boy' he mocked as he saw how willing Drew was to bend to his will. Drew wanted to roll his eyes, he wanted to tell Phil how much he hated him, he wanted to do anything, but he couldn't, all he could do was softly whimper as the praise falling from Phil's mouth caused Drew's cock to lightly twitch.

Embarrassed by his reaction to Phil's words, Drew muttered out; 'asshole' which caused Phil to laugh as he responded, 'come on now' he began, 'there's no need to be so miserable' he joked. Drew let out a quiet laugh that was heard by himself and only himself, if he was miserable like Phil joked, he wished more than anything that he could let go of his pride and hatred to let Phil know how misery loved him.

Noticing the way Drew was fidgeting in place as his cock was throbbing against the fabric of his pants, Phil decided that now was the perfect opportunity to start his attempt to help Drew with his words. Refusing to break eye contact with the man, Phil slowly unzipped his pants and slightly raised his hips momentarily to pull them down, slowly pulling his cock from his boxers as his pants fell around his ankles. As Phil pulled himself from his pants he slowly wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly pumping himself in his hand as his cock swiftly hardened.

As Phil's eyes alternated between slowly fluttering closed and reopening to reveal his glossed over eyes he noticed Drew's eyes fixated on his ever growing member as he instinctively gulped realising Phil's cock was in arms reach. As he reached out to wrap his hands around Phil, Phil gently swatted his hand away causing Drew to avert his eyes in shame; gently grabbing his chin Phil tilted Drew's head to look up at him before he spoke, 'use your words baby' he cooed.

Drew couldn't help but blush as he was filled with a sense of embarrassment and excitement; in any normal circumstance he would despise the smug look on the older man's face, he would stand up and walk away from Phil, vowing to never even look at the man again but this wasn't a normal circumstance; all Drew could think about was how much he needed to feel Phil, he needed to be as close to him as he could, he needed nothing more than the man he despised to make him complete. Swallowing his pride Drew begrudgingly mumbled 'I want to feel you.'

Refusing to break eye contact as he continued to pump himself into his hand Phil let out a low chuckle and teasingly spoke; 'I can't hear you' to which Drew repeated his words ever so slightly louder. Loudly tutting, Phil grabbed Drew's chin with his spare hand; 'this is worse than I thought' he began 'you're lucky I found you when I did, you need so much more help than I thought.' With a smug look on his face, Phil let the word 'open' fall from his lips. Drew silently followed Phil's command causing Phil to warmly mutter 'good' as he slowly slid himself into Drew's welcoming mouth.

As Phil continued to insert himself into Drew's mouth, Drew grasped at Phil's legs as his cock reached the back of his throat, obstructing his breathing. As Phil heard Drew gag as he grabbed at his legs he softly comforted the man; 'shh baby, breathe through your nose.' Once Phil was fully inserted into Drew he hummed in approval before pulling on Drew's chain to ensure he had his full attention. As Drew let out a soft gag as Phil pulled on his chain, Phil's voice lowered; 'now McIntyre I need you to listen' he uttered as Drew nodded slightly, 'you're going to learn how to use your words, lets start with a simple mouth exercise' Phil said unable to hold back a smirk, 'be good for me and keep that pretty mouth perfectly still.'

Drew had to use every ounce of self control he had festering inside of him to stop himself from desperately sucking on Phil's cock like a man starved of any and all sustenance. The feeling of Phil on his tongue was enough to make Drew's cock fully harden between his legs, all self control leaving him in an instant. With his voice muffled by Phil on his tongue Drew whined out the word 'leg', desperate to feel any kind of friction against his painfully hard member. Pride flushed Phil's face at the sight of Drew completely falling apart at his feet, pulling on Drew's chain, gently choking the man, Phil spoke with feigned compassion; 'full sentences baby.' Drew once again attempted to once again plead with Phil to permit him to use his leg for a brief second of friction, however Phil couldn't fully understand the words escaping Drew's mouth so he slowly pulled himself from Drew, both frowning at the loss of contact.

'Please' Drew whined, 'I need you', he blushed 'I need you to make me feel good.' There was something about Drew completely undone that Phil couldn't get enough of, pulling Drew up by his chain hard enough to have Drew leaning over his lap, Phil seductively whispered; 'well I have always been one for positive reinforcement and since you asked so nicely', he gently pushed Drew back to the floor, 'of course you can use my leg to get off like a dumb little mutt' Phil harshly teased. Completely overcome by his desire to ease the pain between his legs, Drew completely ignored the way Phil revelled in his degradation and eagerly attached himself to the man's legs, gaining a soft chuckle from Phil.

As Drew slowly started to grind against Phil's leg he couldn't stop himself from whimpering as both his speed and desperation grew. 'You look so pretty like this' Phil declared as he sunk into the sofa in order to get a better view of Drew rutting against him. The sound of Phil's voice alone was almost enough to push Drew over the edge and he knew it; Hiding his blushing features in the seated man's leg Drew whined out in a desperate tone, 'going to' his words trailed off.

Phil knew exactly what Drew meant but he was going to hear the man say it even if it killed him; abruptly sitting upwards in order to get a better grip on the chain he was holding, he pulled Drew to his feet, eliciting an upset whine from the collared man. 'Now why don't you show me a little bit of spine you've been saving for your mattress' Phil mockingly questioned as he pulled on Drew's chain, lightly choking him as his face edged closer to Phil's.

Deep down Drew couldn't ignore the debilitating feeling that Phil was only doing all of this out of pity but right now all Drew needed was sympathy from Phil and he didn't care how real it was. Practically pleading, Drew looked down at Phil, uttering the words, 'I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.' As Drew spoke Phil couldn't help but notice a sadness in the man's eyes; he knew Drew needed this.

Showing what felt like the first ounce of genuine kindness Drew had received in a long time Phil gently rubbed the man's face before gently leading him upstairs to Drew's bedroom, signalling for the chained man to sit on the bed. Once Drew had sat down at the top of the bed Phil, for the first time all evening, let the chain fall from his hand before slowly crawling towards Drew from the foot of the bed. Once he had crawled to Drew, situating himself between Drew's legs, Phil leant forward to place a gentle kiss on the man's lips. Without saying a word Phil unzipped Drew's pants, softly pulling the man's painfully throbbing cock from his pants. Drew was growing desperate, he had been so close to spilling over for what felt like hours; 'please' he began to plead 'please make it feel better' he whined, causing Phil to slowly wrap both of his hands around Drew's member. Before Drew could react to the sensation of Phil's cold hands making contact with his hot member Phil was already gracefully wrapping his mouth around the cock in his hands.

Phil easily started sliding Drew in and out of his mouth, eliciting a string of 'oh fuck' and 'yes' to fall from Drew's mouth. After mere seconds of Phil feeling pleased with the sounds falling from Drew's lips Drew balled his hands into fists as he practically moaned out; 'Phil I'm going to cum.' Drew's needy, desperate tone was addictive to Phil, he could tell the extent of the stimulation Drew was feeling was becoming too much for the man so, instinctively, Phil soothingly rubbed Drew's thigh.

This simple touch was enough to finally push Drew over the edge; as he finally climaxed Drew choked out a moan as his back involuntarily arched, as his orgasm washed over him, Drew desperately grabbed for Phil's hand to help him through a painfully enjoyable orgasm.

Phil easily swallowed the seed Drew released into his mouth as he felt Drew grab at his hand like it was his lifeline, intertwining his fingers with Drew's, Phil slid Drew out of his mouth using his free hand to wipe his mouth, never even trying to remove his hand from Drew's.

'See how good it feels when you use your words' Phil proudly teased; Drew wanted to reply in an equally sarcastic manner but before he could he was overcome with a tired feeling, his mouth letting out a content yawn. Phil smiled and lightly teased; 'is someone tired out?' As he went to get up to leave Drew to sleep, Drew tightened his grip causing Phil to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Drew's heavy eyes glanced down to Phil's pants, the hardness of his cock painfully evident; 'what about you?' Drew muttered, causing Phil to chuckle, 'well aren't you just the sweetest when you're all fucked out?' Phil cockily praised him before kneeling down to Drew's eye level; 'don't you worry about me McIntyre, get some rest.'

It was in rare moments like this that the hatred both men held in their hearts melted away which was partly why Phil was so adamant on leaving; there was a part of him buried deep down that couldn't put himself through waking up tomorrow to Drew's face contorted in disgust as he remembers what had just happened, he couldn't put himself through the both of them swearing that this was the last time they'd ever cross paths.

As Phil reached the bedroom door he heard what he swore were tears threatening to choke Drew where he lay as the half asleep man quietly spoke; 'please don't leave me tonight' he choked out, causing Phil to freeze in place. Phil sighed quietly to himself knowing no matter what he did he'd be sure to regret it. Looking over at Drew, Phil couldn't help but notice how broken he looked, he couldn't leave him, not like this. Forcing a smile onto his face Phil, softly uttered an 'ok' as he walked over to the bed to Drew's internal relief. As Phil crawled onto the bed and got himself comfortable he opened his arms for Drew to wrap himself in; he always felt so safe wrapped in Phil's arms. Before Drew fell asleep he pulled at the collar on his neck in an attempt to remove it, however before he could do so Phil grabbed his hand and moved it away from his throat, whispering into Drew's ear 'I'll remove your chain but not the collar, you'll need a reminder in the morning exactly who you belong to.'

Phil removed Drew's chain, gently tossing it to the ground before placing a soft kiss on Drew's head as he fell into the first good sleep he's had in a long time; hopefully one day things will be different, hopefully one day the two men can bring themselves to commit to each other in the way they both know they need to.

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A/N >> I'm sorry this took so long to get out IDK HOW THIS GOT SO LONG AND IM SO SORRY ITS AWFUL, drop writing requests in my inbox :)

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writingquestionsanswered · 11 months

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I'm not sure if this has been asked before, but what can you do to gain more motivation? ik this is common writer things, but how do you actually overcome that thick barrier between writing and thinking about what you're going to write—and subsequently never doing it?

Thinking About Writing but Never Doing It

If you typically hit a barrier between thinking about a story and actually writing it, before you can overcome that barrier, you have to figure out why it's there.

1 - Is this problem general or specific? My first question would be whether you experience this problem with every story, some stories, or just this story in particular. Because if you don't always have this problem, that tells us the problem is localized... it's either something to do with this particular story or something going on with you right now. If you have a lot going on right now, are distracted by other things, or aren't feeling well physically or emotionally, that could certainly create a barrier. You zoom in on the specific issue/s and see what, if anything, you can do about them. Or, wait for it to pass. If it seems to be something to do with this particular story, my post 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! can help. You can also look at Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write, Getting Excited About Your Story Again, and Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists.

2 - If the problem is general... if this happens to you with most or all stories, it's still worth considering the possibility that your motivation is hampered by how you're feeling physically or mentally. If you're in an era of life where you have a lot going on right now, say you're in college, your job is particularly hectic, or you've got small kids, you may just be physically and mentally exhausted. In that case, you can work on self-care and trying out different routines to see if you can improve your physical/mental well-being and perhaps find a writing time that makes the barrier come down or more easy to climb over.

If the problem doesn't seem to be with how you're feeling physically and/or mentally, I would suggest it could be an issue with having ideas for stories and a general desire to write, but not really knowing what to do with those ideas. In that case, spending some time consuming stories (reading, watching TV/movies, etc.) and paying attention to how the stories work can help you form a general foundation for understanding plot and story structure. You can also spend some time on my Plot & Story Structure master list of posts. Or, if the problem is that you have the desire to write, understand how stories work, but the barrier is a lack of ideas, my post Guide: Filling Your Creative Well has some suggestions to help with that. You can also have a look at my Motivation master list for additional help.

I hope something here helps to get you over your barrier! :)

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mistrdctr · 9 months

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@mxrvelouscreations asked: Send 🥂💋 (or “cheers & kisses”, if you can’t see the emoji) to share a toast and a kiss with my muse on New Year’s Eve. (Tony)

There's worse ways to celebrate the new year. Stephen could be stuck in a hell dimension, for example (done that, sucked). He could also be at the Sanctum alone, waiting for that one minute to pass and then share a toast with himself (a... literal one, wasn't satisfying). He could also just completely forget about it (no, he would never - forgetting, in that case, means ignoring) and sleep through it, pretend that nothing has changed at all and constantly fuck up writing the correct date whenever he has to (will happen in any case).

But, this time, he's not alone, nor is he stuck in another dimension or munching on a piece of dry toast; He is at Stark's tower, which is refreshingly... refreshing, really. ---And he's also currently sharing a bed with a man, hence the not-alone-part.

That man is not any man, of course, but Tony himself; Both of them aren't wearing any clothes, because why should they, and both of them are currently enjoying the aftermath of what has been a truly satisfying encounter. Very satisfying; Stephen would do that all over again, actually. More than once, if possible.

The clock is ticking (quite literally), seconds pass, turning into minutes, with only a few remaining until this year will end and another one starts.

Smiling to himself, the sorcerer hums - and, just ike that, Tony will find himself holding onto a glass filled with bubbly liquid. Stephen got one as well - of course he does - and he turns his head around to look at his quite unusual, yet highly desired bed-companion with a smirk stretching along his full lips.

"---Almost time.", he says, winking. "We wouldn't want to greet the new year without an appropriate drink, would we?"

#mxrvelouscreations #( :eye emoji: )

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deus-and-the-machina · 10 months

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maybe this is a bit of a useless point to make but it does bother me sometimes that estinien’s skintone gets lightened quite a bit. I don’t necessarily blame fanartists for this bc some renders/cgi trailers make him look paler than his in game model, but I just wanted to draw some comparisons. now the lighting can vary quite a bit, but I tried finding pictures in multiple lightings for comparison

he looks a little washed out/not well lit in this image but you can still tell its the same skin tone

Furthermore, here’s him next to fourchenault, who we know is meant to be somewhat darker because his dad is louisoix.

Here they are in the endwalker trailer

I don’t think this but specifically is that bad, there’s still a notable contrast between his hair and skin tone even if it looks to be a bit more tinged pink than he usually is, but it’s still comparable to fourchenault. The render though is eeeeeeeh

his most prominent render isnt necessarily inaccurate but the lighting feels like its on full blast

The countdown art also DEFINITELY makes him look a little paler. it resembles the previous render

I also wanted to point out this happened to y'shtola too somewhat. look at her renders compared to her model compared to the end walker trailer

ike she is distinctly pinker/paler as well. im not sure how the process of making the cgi cutscenes works but im fairly sure they use different models, so I generally accept that they lost some specifics in translation. there are other differences people have pointed out such as Zenos' nose being shaped differently in the end walker trailer so its bound to happen.

Here are their figures too

yshtola has a skin tone somewhat accurate design but estinien is DEFINITELY lighter. his eyes are off too, being a weirdly deep blue when his canon eyes are grey, so again it can be chalked up to lost in translation aspects but its still disappointing to see

im not really trying to argue that estinien or yshtola aren't "white" or white passing by our standards, but they really aren't pale and its kind of weird that they often get lightened in trailers/renders in estinien's case. especially when I see so much fanart drawing estinien as super bone white pale because they're probably looking at the renders that pop up first online if you search and show his whole outfit for design reference.

I do really appreciate it when I see artists draw them darker, it makes me very happy.

#PLEASE dont clown on this post we see several much darker skinned ishgardians so 'its fantasy france' isnt an argument here. also dont come #here and act like im policing artists just by pointing out trends and the portrayal of certain characters. I mostly am talking about the #various official depictions and WHY that would lead many to draw him as so pale and why thats disappointing and jarring to me #I am maintagging this though bc I want people to see this so. saying that at my own risk lol #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #estinien varlineau #estinien wyrmblood

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sleepyrxsetea · 2 months

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blog intro

i'm making a new intro to include my WIP's as well!

howdy! my name is Rose and i've been around for over a year now! i would love to meet more writers and overall cool people! this blog has a writing/book reading focus while also having a few other things here and there (so descriptive, ik)

i have two alt blogs as well. @eye-motive is my fiction podcast blog (The Magnus Archives. at this point it's only tma and tmagp and some Malevolent here and there) and then @sleepyrxserambles is random stuff that is not podcast or writing specific (it's the wild west on there)

DNI: bigots, TERF’s, ableist’s, homophobes, transphobes, interphobes, bots, you get the idea i hope: don't be a jerk

some quick facts though:

-xe/they nonbinary aroace spectrum being

-favorite games are open world rpg games, Animal Crossing and Omori

-i read a lot. most of it is high fantasy (but my true favorite books are actually shitty paranormal romance. 'mostly high fantasy' is a cover up i tell so i don't get judged even harsher by the people in my life for liking the books even though they make me ridiculously happy)

-um...moving on from that rant. i also like gardening (new lore unlocked)

-i like watching anime! some of my favorites are BSD, Horimiya, Banana Fish and Sailor Moon. i also read manga, some of my favorites have been Fruit’s Basket, The Promised Neverland and Sailor Moon

-i like Sailor Moon. i’m not sure if you can tell or not

-besides watching anime my favorite shows are Doctor Who, Good Omens, Dead Boy Detectives, What We Do In The Shadows and Our Flag Means Death

-i also like watching vtuber’s in my spare time. I don’t have any particular favorites but I do watch Gavis Bettel often

now, the WIP's! i'm only putting one for now because it's the only one i'm dedicated on working on, lol (it's below)

Harrison Weber And The Serial Murder Case Of The Theater Troupe (otherwise known as Harrison Weber And The Serial Murder Case On Oxford Street. i'll also make a better name eventually, promise)

in this WIP it is kinda like Sherlock Holmes with a twist. Oliver Briggs is the newest assistant to the big shot detective, Harrison Weber, known for his expertise in solving serial murder cases. Fresh out of college and still trying not to hurl at the sight of blood, Oliver has been assigned to take the lead on a new case so his boss can see what he is made of. There has been a murder in a local park and the victim turns out to be someone Oliver knows, his childhood friend. While trying to grapple with this loss, unexpectedly his old babysitter passes. Then his cousin. As he looks into their deaths he realizes that they are all connected by only three things; himself, the theater troupe his mother had been a part of and a deadly fire that happened 13 years ago. Will Oliver be able to find the killer before they kill again? Or will he have to suffer the loss of yet someone else he holds dear?

that is my first time writing a summery, lol. also the last two sentences are kinda bad but i needed a hook

also i don't want to say the twist but if you look at my other posts you can tell

but, some updates. i am currently working on fleshing out the characters so that they feel actually human and making a chapter outline. i haven't started to write the first draft yet but plan on doing it soon! i will update more here and on actual posts. i don't really write mystery so we'll see how it goes :D

thank you for reading! i really appreciate it :D stay safe, take care of yourself and remember to take it easy sometimes

#blog intro #new blog intro #current wip #wip summary #queer writers #writeblr #Harrison Weber And The Serial Murder Case On Oxford Street #Harrison Weber And The Serial Murder Case Of The Theater Troupe #idk how to tag this #creative writing

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shotorozu · 1 year

Text

Paintings Do No Justice (Ch. 1)

Todoroki Shouto/Reader (Royal! AU)

Chapter 1 — Insult on Canvas

Tags: Romance, Drama, Royal AU, Getting Together, Painter! Reader (who is also blunt) Prince! Todoroki Shouto

Synopsis: One moment you’re mouthing off to someone about how you find the painting in front of you atrocious, and in the next— you’re sketching the same subject of the painting. How did you get here, again?

AO3

Masterlist

note(s): so yall might’ve been wondering— where was the chapter ⁉️ well one, the owl house ended so i was kinda grieving that 💀 and two— editing 😁 anyways ik this might not be EXTREMELY historically accurate, but i tried. a lot. as in, a month of vigorous research about the era went into this… anyways 😁

»»————-　♡　————-««

The estate was busier than usual, filled with clamor and poorly concealed whispers.

When you woke up that morning and awaited your delivery of freshly new oil paints, you heard mumbles from helpers passing by outside of your door. You had tried to listen in on the mumbles when you heard any outside, but as you pressed your ear against the wooden door, the mumbling had faded to incoherence.

Even the maid that usually kept to herself, was asking about your opinions, and when you tried to gain an elaboration— the maid in question simply sped away, tasks suddenly looking very appealing.

You never minded, but to have a certain type of mystery lingering in the air had you growing nosy.

You tried your best to not dwell on the topic that much, instead– anticipating for someone to come knocking at your door with a case of brand new paints. You weren’t sure what was the most exciting part of them all– the fact that they’re brand new? The fact that they’re from the very center of the capital, traded by the best art supply retailer.

You weren’t sure if it was just one of those reasons or all, but you could imagine them already. The dentless tubes, the color labels of each of them, the glide of each paint on a canvas. Your hands are already itching to test them out, find your next piece’s subject—

Or instead of someone delivering the parcel to your room, maybe your father would loudly exclaim for your appearance. You would know what it would be for, anyway.

You try to imagine the excitement, the craft of your art, the stroke of each brush, but it’s becoming increasingly hard to imagine something so.. Imaginable, when the muttering of each person that passed your room drew your attention. Not to mention, whatever your handmaids were speaking about earlier had you increasingly curious.

You finally had enough of feeling left out of the hearsay– scandalous or not, pushing your chambers’ doors open and striding to the main hall, and that’s when you finally understood the commotion.

You dart your head around, observing each and every expression of those present in the hall.

A name was called into the air– by quick realization, your name to be exact, and you recognized the voice as your father’s.

“Father,” You reply, arms folding atop of each other, a hand brushing against your elbow. “Is it just me or has the estate become busied with noise? Is it gossip that I was sorely excluded from knowing again?” Your father chuckles, shaking his head. Okay, if it wasn’t estate gossip, then what was bringing out the invasiveness you never knew you had? "Or.. Was I walking around insensibly like a headless chicken–”

“That’s not it, it’s just..” You wait for him to finish his sentence. He seems to be grasping for the right words– presumably, due to the difficulty of the subject? “Your paints have been delayed.”

Your brows furrow. That was it?

Although it seems to be a bit of a letdown– considering the extent of your anticipation, but it is no true worry as the hearsay makes it seem. “So? I am willing to wait. In fact, it is a wait I’ve been doing for years now, waiting for a significant breakthrough.”

Your father chuckles, wrinkles prominent on the corner of his eyes. “I assure you it will happen. But the issue here is that someone will have to pick it up themselves.”

You hum, coming to a decision. “I could do it, I have a feeling this is the result of everyone tossing the responsibility onto each other like a hot potato.”

His aging features fell as an awkward laugh suddenly emerged out of him. “Oh, I’m afraid that’s not all.” He coughs. It seems forced. “We’ve gotten word that Prince Shouto is getting his portrait done.” He sighs, “It has been a while since his juvenile age of fifteen. Once again, we’ve missed the opportunity to grab at the commission… like last time.”

You pause. Prince Shouto of the Todoroki family?

It was a given that you know who he was, everyone within the society of your kingdom had an idea of the third son of King Enji Todoroki. He was said to be tall, handsome, gifted, and the only eligible heir despite having three siblings years ahead of him in age. It was also rumored to be that he could conjure flames with his left, and ice with his right.

All those things have been said about him– and it was almost ridiculous, until it dawned onto you that you haven’t seen the prince in question once. Never in your life have you been able to see if these allegations held some truth in them.

But he is still the prince at the end of the day. It’s not like your opinion mattered to him, to anyone caring for that matter. Perhaps the responses of the trainees, interns, and the help were justified clauses after all.

Not to mention, “last time” was considerably a hard time as well, though maybe the uproar of today is due to the fact that Prince Shouto is of age, and is essentially nearing the start of his prime. The next time his portrait could possibly be done in a few decades– and of course no painter as urgent as your father could wait that long.

“The royal family aren’t the only highly regarded clients that we could paint,” You state, “There’ll be other big names that’ll be anticipating to be painted by us.”

Your father’s features crinkle, “It is the royal family.”

You shrug. Touché.

“I’ll get going now.” You spin your heel, “Perhaps, calming down the masses of this estate would be good?”

Your old man considers your words evidently, though you think this is simply a plot to get a rise out of you. Your shoulders rise like mountains and drop with a sigh– as equally visible as he “considered” things, and his charade drops with ease. “That is a good idea,”

Without turning around, you can hear him calm down the people within the estate.

You sort out your appearance, going through each drawer and shelf to examine the amount of various garments that you currently own. You weren’t going to be out for long, and you weren’t going to be looked at for long, so you eventually settled with something of comfort– forgoing a usual bodice in favor of a long sleeved polo with frilled trims, and a skirt with a simple but presentable silhouette.

Snatching a messenger bag while forcing on some shoes, you walk down the hallway and out the door in a hurry– determined to beat the busy crowd of the merchandise galleria.

—

Your assumption was indeed true, but it turned out to be busier than you'd ever expect.

Retrieving the paints was the simplest part of the intended short trip, but getting near the designated supplier showed itself to be difficult.

There were more people in the galleria than usual, and you’d be aware of this– considering that the folk that roamed the galleria’s path frequently contained the help and the occasional artist taking initiative.

Which meant that it was quite never the ton.

Package in your clutches, you hadn’t need to look at the crowd to realize– that they were not the district’s average patrons.

Turning a heel, you observed the high quality bodices and robes of all sorts of fabric that adorned the sophisticated. With hairstyles, hats and jewelry that decorated the elite were supremely well made, your eyes felt as if they sparkled simply by staring.

“Unveiling of “Adolescence” By Mr. Sasaki to be done in just a few! I repeat, Unveiling of Mr. Sasaki’s latest painting is to be done shortly!”

You try not to huff at the announcement. Mr. Sasaki turned out to be the very artist your father was feuding with. Only child of a duke, he opted out of inheritance of the title in exchange for an artful life of paintings and sculptures. The choice was viewed as shameful initially, but his competence in art assisted in his favor.

If anyone were to ask you, however– you’d say in hush that it was a result of nepotism.

Regardless of the opinion, you remained in your place, curiosity quipped to see what aspect of this latest work made it worthy of a live elite audience.

Then, the thin cloth that obscured the painting’s true form was lifted with the ring of a bell, and tossed to the side.

Curiosity quickly drained out of you, and your artistic knowledge made you long for the moments before you saw the painting.

The backdrop of the painting was simple. Considering that it is simply backdrop, it was painted a dark oak color and blended well for the viewer to not have their attention glued to what was behind the subject.

And the subject itself was…

“Not the sight for sore eyes.”

You bit your lip before anyone could register who said it, or what was said. What you said was intended to be kept on the inside, and while the words could’ve been directed to anything, the context was unfavorable. A clear insult to the painting.

When you clear yourself of possible suspicion, you continue your ponder– analyzing the painting, uttering barely present comments about the painting.

Then, you hear a hum beside you– baritone, hard to shake off. “What makes you say that?”

You try to stop your shoulders from jolting upwards from surprise, but your attempts come short. Was it directed to you? You pondered considerably, an endless amount of possible outcomes went rampant in your thoughts.

Your heart raced– you could get into some trouble for what you’ve just said, and what you’re about to say.

You weren’t about to retract statements, no. But boycott was possible if your unkind comment and name was unearthed to the artist himself, or even– members of the gentry.

Despite yourself– you turn to your side, and see a man dressed in a dark coat with a matching hat obscuring his hair and eyes. The features that weren’t hidden by his hat or the collar of his coat were distinctive for you to recall in a few weeks time.

He was lean– certainly not a dandy. He looked as if he was never meant to be seen just like you, as he had an air of mystery around him if you dared to make significant mention.

Well, a faceless man practically made conversation with you! “Mysterious” reflected little in description.

He must be the one who asked, his voice aligned with his appearance– and it certainly isn’t the mother in front of you, or the young child spectating the unveiling on stacked up carts.

“Portraiture is certainly popular within recent times,” You note “But the subject… does not seem adolescence.” You end off, dryly.

There’s some silence, and you close to thinking that the conversation has ended.

Or, perhaps– it did. You saw what you needed to see, you retrieved what was needed of you to do– you could go back to the estate and happily start on your next painting. You could quickly leave in silence, as if the comment was never made at all–

“What do you mean by that? Must you be referring to the subject’s features?”

The response has you thinking. The stranger’s interested in what you’re saying, which is… certainly not an everyday occurrence, but could blame be set on you for indulging?

“No. I meant that there is a lacking quality in the subject, and I think– overall tone of the work.” You reply, slightly more confident. “Neoclassicism is indeed, also popular these days, but for it to be observed in portraiture art such as this is.. Unfitting.”

You’re on a tangent, but you cannot find it in yourself to care. You’re so focused that you didn’t bother to even turn to the man you’re subjecting your tangent to. “The restraint, unemotional element of the genre simply has no place in a work called… “Adolescence”, as the years of adolescence are full of inexperience, development, and are our days of youth, yes?”

“And since that is the case, you’re wondering where is that look we’d all see in the mirror during those days?”

You chuckle. Finally, someone that gets it. “Yes.”

But your cheer makes a drastic drop when your sight is lined up with the portrait once again. Art analysis aside, how is a forehead with that width and length possible to conjure– especially on pure intention. How it wasn’t the first thing you’ve laid your eyes upon was worthy of amazement.

“Not just that, but no real human has a forehead that big. It’s as if the subject is a pompous imbecile. Intended outcome or not, I pity whoever was the subject.”

The stranger lets out a soft laugh that was ridden with illy concealed shock and amusement. The sound sobers you out of your analytical tangent and you only stare as he finishes. The expression that he’s left with– from what you can tell from the subtle curl of his lips– is placid, yet entertained. Though the reason behind it is unheard of…

A loud voice cuts through your thoughts before you could say or think anything more. “Mr. Sasaki will be here to answer any queries.”

Several people raise their hand, but none of what happens in front of you distracts you from the stranger’s voice resounding against your ears. “I suppose I should’ve assumed much, once as the forehead was revealed in its full force. Mr. Sasaki was.. Especially defensive when the painting was completed.”

You only stare in question as someone in the audience inquires about the painting’s primary subject– the center of the reprehensible thing.

But the man makes no further movement to address his comment. “Could I have your name? Are you perhaps an art critic?”

“Ah, the main inspiration as you can see– is the subject of the painting!”

You blink. You could mutter and make ramblings about paintings and art conceptually all you pleased, but giving your name first to a stranger– a nearly faceless one– was improbable. “Only if you are able to disclose yours. And no, I’m no critic.”

“Is it not customary to answer a question with another?” The words he says are accusing, but by the tone of the unknown man’s voice– he has no intention.

“Fine.” He did have a point. Some may say that you only had care for the arts and nothing else, but an “uncaring” person such as you was also taught not to answer anything with a question.

“Y/N of the L/N family. I’ve spoken this much, so it’s only fair that you take your turn to speak up and slightly embarrass yourself now.”

You don’t have to look him in the eye to know that he is resisting a laugh. You can see it in the way his lips tightly shut.

Mr. Sasaki goes on despite the intriguing conversation you find yourself within. “Everybody knows him– so it goes without saying, that it was a big honor to paint–”

“Shouto–”

“--Your Highness, Prince Shouto of the Todoroki Family!”

The fact was indeed proudly stated– the best boast an artist could say.

But all you could do was stare at the portrait, and back at the man who said his name was…

“Wait, you’re, uh…”

And that’s when you finally get a decent look at the man– now that your attention isn’t gathered on analysis.

Under the hat– mismatched irises were hidden in plain sight, but all due to the close proximity, the silver and cerulean pigment of his eyes matched with the painting– except, the painted counterpart was less than nothing compared to what was material.

What stood in front of you– was the unmatched, unrivaled beauty of the lands.

On his left eye, he had a scar that made no appearance in the painting, as if it never existed. It was clear that the scar was excluded on purpose– seeing as the scar is a distinctive part of his face. However, now that you stood next to someone of royal lineage, you could bear witness to the scar, that was not mere hearsay of the elite’s most nosy.

Besides, the scar did nothing to deter from his aesthetic.

“Not even the king wanted to show me the painting, and… that was– I suppose– the strangest of it all, considering the time.”

Then it just occurred to you, what grave thing you’ve committed.

A grave offense, worthy of the death penalty– public execution, and exile to all related to you!

So you did the first thing that appeared in your mind.

Shove royalty out of the way and make a book for it.

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kiraversee · 9 months

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Hi! In your magical girl svsss AU, how are the magical girls chosen?? Is it like a birth thing, or does it happen at some point when they are already a certain age?

Because if it is the second, I want to imagine a scene where SY is hanging out with some demon friends and suddenly he is chosen to become a magical girl (be it through a cute creature telling him or just sudden transformation) and both he and his demon friends start to panic because what????

I also want to know if, in the case SY becomes a magical girl (which I just realized could or could not happen), he could try to join a CQM to change the image people have of demons from the inside!

Sorry for the long ask, I just saw your post and got really excited about it!! ✨️🎍✨️

YOU LITERALLY DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I WAS FOR THIS ASK!! LIKE I WAS SO EXCITED(and shy) THAT I COULDN'T READ IT! I HAD TO HAVE MY FRIEND READ IT FIRST THEN TELL ME WHAT YOU SAID!! I AM SO GLAD YOU WERE INTERESTED IN MY LITTLE AU! AHHH I'M SMILING!! also to answer your question, it is from birth and being chosen! Let me explain with a little storytelling:D.

(ps theres a short version of this story under the cut since ik some people like to get to the point:D)

The first ever magical girls were lovely people who fought demons and saved the world countless of times, even though they had to fight demons multiple times even almost risking their lives! They still had time to be in love~ as they grow older they married their now spouse's in a grand ceremony.

In the far future the angel helper that was sent to help the magical girls warned that if a magical girl decided to retire and have children, the power they have now will be distributed upon the magical girls children, leaving the magical girls without magic anymore (ofc if they decide to have children). As the children of the magical girls grow up, they also fall in love and the cycle continues for as long as that magic last. Once many generations have been passed, the magical girls power will be so faint that you will not even be able to do any simple magic spells

If a magical girl does not wish to have children, they will not grow old like the normal humans because the magical girls power is from the heaven's itself, as long as they have their powers they will grow old and slowly die of old age without any health problems.

There was less and less magical girls in the world. The heaven's thought it was a problem because the demons, without strong enough magical girls were reeking havoc again! The heaven's held a meeting and decided to send down angel helpers once in a while to give powers to the most qualified humans the magical girl powers.

Boom done storytime! (Heres a shorter version so u don't have to read all that) So if the magical girls has children, they will inherit the power and the cycle of childbirth continues until the magical girl power eventually just goes poof bc theres so little of it! If a magical girl doesn't want to have children they will grow old and die slowly bc.. powers!!! Once in a while the heaven's will like send an angel helper to give humans magical girl powers.

Actually i do wanna touch on the magical girls power giving thing bc its actually really interesting to me off course!

The heaven's sends out tiny angel helpers to give humans magical girl powers by giving them accessories that pierce into your body, (like an earring) energy will start to invade your immune system and slowly merge with your cells while slowly changing them to be different from a human cells! So technically if you want to like donate blood you can't anymore bc your blood ain't no type A or B anymore, its Type SMG or what it stands for, SPARKLY. MAGICAL. GURL.

Also (i say also a lot) your shen yuan idea is amazing! Like omg! Like that would be so cool if one day its just like

SY: *hanging out with demons then a very sparkly light falls from the sky*

Demons: "what the f-"

Angel: "WAHHHH THAT FALL HURT! I SHOULD'VE USED MY WINGS 😭"

demon's and SY: *extremely confused????One demon sneaks up and hits it with a pan, Rapunzel style!*

(I'm not very good with skits so if any of y'all have a better skit ideas, share em! I would love to read em!)

Boom that short skit of how i imagine that scenario would go! I've decided to give SY clingy angel helper bc rivalry with binghe why not.

Oh yeah to answer your question, I could definitely see SY joining CQM bc he wants his demon friends to live freely in the human world!

Also i very very veryyyy much appreciate your ask! It was also very fun to read how much you enjoy my au!! I'm terribly sorry if there is any grammar mistakes😅 or if my explanations are very confusing! English is not my first language... (its my 3rd language)

#svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #scum villian self saving system #svsss au #svsss shen yuan #idk how to tag this #every reblog helps!#uhh ask me anything in my ask box

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wrongcaitlyn · 5 months

Note

need more apollo and darren lore to see if i can relate them to back to december

you can ONE HUNDRED PERCENT relate them to back to december if you just ignore the tiny detail of them not breaking up in december (but like, who cares because it’s the VIBE that matters and in this case the vibe is definitely accurate)

i will definitely be adding more apollo and darren lore…let’s just say… archery world championships happening soon…. olympics in one year…. kayla’s an icon mastermind…..

but! some little notes in specific relation to back to december

i know you may think this is apollos pov, but after looking over the lyrics again to refresh my memory… it’s from darren’s perspective. 100%

I'm so glad you made time to see me / How's life? Tell me, how's your family? / I haven't seen them in a while

apollos family!! not referring to his dad. duh. but darren’s prob just talking abt like the 1-2 times he met will and austin as babies, he hasn’t seen them since so “a while”…. sure darren, that might be a bit of an understatement

You've been good, busier than ever / We small talk, work and the weather / Your guard is up and I know why

small talk is SO real with them. they’re so awkward esp rn. they don’t know how to talk to each other. apollo says “nice weather we’re having” completely unironically and darren responds “oh yeah it’s nice”

cue silence for like 2 minutes until apollo asks how his coaching is going and more and more stilted conversation

AND!!! they’re both busier than ever!! apollo returning to being employed (kinda? i mean, he has a job so) and darren with olympics being next year

Because the last time you saw me / Is still burned in the back of your mind / You gave me roses and I left them there to die

i don’t wanna spoil exactly how they broke up… bc me and wronghuntress had like an hour long convo abt pollen lore a few weeks back and. guys. when i tell you i am SO fucking excited to write it‼️‼️

HOWEVER. this line. is very. very. very. fitting. from darren’s pov that’s all i’m saying hereeee

bc ik in one of the other chapters i said that apollos like “i ruined his life” and he DID but also like. it’s messy. it’s so very messy.

So this is me swallowin' my pride / Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night / And I go back to December all the time

not technically in front of him but!! the phone call!! abt kayla!! him swallowing up his pride, and there wasn’t necessarily an apology for the… things that happened, but it’s a step forward

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you / Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine / I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright / I go back to December all the time

change it to march and make darren a singer instead of an archer and this would be one of his songs😭😭

These days, I haven't been sleepin' / Stayin' up playin' back myself leavin' / When your birthday passed and I didn't call / Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times / I watched you laughin' from the passenger's side / And realized I loved you in the fall

god… this timeline is actually SO real. if anyone’s making a pollen playlist out there (i should probably do that when i have timeHDKDJD) THIS SONG‼️‼️‼️

anyway ofc apollo is associated with summer in darren’s brain… and also apollo def thinks of summer too when thinking of darren :)

and oh yeah, ofc apollo’s in the passenger seat. bro probably grew up with drivers and doesn’t have his license.. rip sun chariot!!! (he gets his license eventually, ofc, but only bc it’s to drive will to school)

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile / So good to me, so right

But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

i mean, do these even need to be explained? well darren, i can assure you that you WILL love again. it’s what we all need

okay so. i can’t really. explain the rest of this stuff. but here are the lyrics that stand out to me SOOO much because of how they broke up. that is all i can say for now!!

And then the cold came, the dark days / When fear crept into my mind / You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

And how you held me in your arms that September night / The first time you ever saw me cry

thank you so much for the ask!! it’s been a while since some pollen content but i swear it’s coming soon :))

#wrongcaitlyn #talk ur talk asks

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wsdalt · 3 months

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hellooo i am a bit late but. ask game! 🏜️🎨🥤? (ik you did the last one already but recs are always fun!)

"what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?"

um… okay firstly i obviously love all comments, but i will say i enjoy when people sort of… point out/engage with the thesis of sorts of the fic? i suppose? i don't always go into a fic with a "thesis" i'm trying to convey in mind, but sometimes i do and i like when people pick up on it and engage with or mention it \o/!!

"recommend an author or fanfic you love"

well… i would recommend you pfft but you're the one sending the ask. so um… in the interest of sticking with felps related fics i will recommend “we made out way by finding what is real” and “once more to see you” because I’ve been in a federation escape stream mood \o/!! First one is them escaping (+ timeloop concept) and second one is post-escape… fluff I suppose? as much as it can be considering the circumstances and paranoia

"link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it" (out of order just in case i need to use a cut pfft. i did need the cut. okay have fun \o/)

it's that time of the week, time to pass the felps bystander guilt art… while this features other people in true nature to myself i will focus on felps with this though okay lets go: very cool piece first of all \o/!! second of all i have no idea if this is jaime's intentions with this art at all but…

felps having his face turned towards what is happening with cell and pac, but when you actually look he's looking completely past them? they're in his peripherals, surely… it's not that he can't see them, or he's entirely ignoring what's happening--it's in a murky sense of acknowledging it without acknowledging it? he's acknowledging it, but he can't look right at it. i like that as much as cell and pac draw your attention, felps stands out a lot--everyone else is in orange, and they're also a lot more… "fluid" i guess than him? (although with JV it's because he's dead and dead bodies don't really hold tension oops…) i just really like the perfect posture + almost casual stance

i think you can link it easily to the fact felps has a slight tendency to fall into the "everything's fine \o/" way of processing things--or at the very least tries to brush over his issues? it's not his method 100% of the time, and it doesn't fully work, but you know--you can also link the fact it doesn't fully work to the fact he looks back: he can't fully ignore it

i always imagine this scene as felps being told by cell to stand guard and make sure no one interrupts him and this very much feels like a depiction of that. a very sort of hopeless "what else can i do but this?" and throwing himself into it. he has his guard stance--but he looks back! maybe because despite the neutral expression (see again: "everything is fine" approach) he does care about pac a little and he doesn't want this to happen. he can't bring himself to watch, but he can't bring himself to look away and pretend it isn't happening either!

back to felps standing out: it really plays into that line he had when he mentioned to richarlyson that he was in prison--i'm paraphrasing a little i think because i don't have time to hunt it down, but he said something like "i was on the other side. i was alone." and you can really see that here! he's definitely not "one of them". the different uniform, the different colours, the difference in stance… despite the fighting going on the others seem more "united" as a concept…? i don't know how to explain it

the bystander guilt is also a fun thing combined with his saint stuff and all that, but that isn't specific to this piece

anyway getting specific with it and really just taking audience interpretation liberties here even moreso than before: colouring behind felps' head as halo and by extension priest imagery if you're me. his hands behind his back is cool--i can't remember if i wrote this into my fic(s?) specifically because of this piece, but i do lean into the idea of him during this era holding his hands behind his back as a professional way to hide them so people can't see them shaking

felps being the tallest can also be a reference to the fact he's technically supposed to have the most power here due to being a guard, but that's neither here nor there as he… doesn't actually have much power in the scene (the blackmail). although maybe just the illusion of power, but not acting on it is interesting? to someone like pac--he could've stopped it. or tried to. but he didn't. and we know that's because of the blackmail--but it'd be hard for pac to conceptualise that if he wasn't the kind of person to do the "everything's fine!" thing and succeed very very well until he has to break

celltw are fun and jaime did amazing with them of course, but this piece will always be the felps bystander guilt art to me. i have it as my lock screen pfft

#wsd/f.elps #? sure it can have that tag #hi \o/!!!

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This isn’t a request more of a suggestion bc I know your writing doesn’t work like that but imagine a fic with Emmy talking to Will about her escapades with men over their time apart, or an ex of hers popping up idk I’m just so used to hearing about Will and his whore tendency’s I just want to hear about Emmy’s bc I know she was not celibate over the years, especially when he asked her if she ever had man in her mouth and she said she never had him in her mouth. I’d love to here even your thoughts on the matter. Ik that in one of your fics you wrote about Emmy being with her co worker in the past and Will was jealous about it.

Hey, thanks for the suggestion. To be honest, a request almost exactly like this is how I ended up with No Apologies. If you go back far enough, you’ll see I struggled with it back then. I’d probably struggle with it now, too.

I’ve recieved many requests/suggestions like this and I can understand why it’s popular. I really hope a fic writer comes into the fandom who is interested in this kind of plot, because I can see it doing really well.

I think part of the problem is that I’m just not interested in Emory trying to make Will jealous or upset. And this might be a controversial take, but I also don’t think Emory would try to do that. She has a tough shell, but inside she’s sweet and soft, and not interested in hurting others just because she can. If I were to make an honest attempt at a fic where they’re talking about it, it would be emotional and full of regret (on Will’s end; Emory doesn’t have anything to regret, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t also feel it.)

However, I can talk about why I don’t see what other people see when it comes to Emory’s potential body count being any kind of issue.

In Nightfall, Will says that he doesn’t care if anyone else touched her, she was his girl and that’s all that mattered.

Now, I know I just put up a large case for Will being a liar, but this is one moment where I think he was being truthful. He has a moment of clarity, where he’s able to tell what really matters and what doesn’t. While that moment might have passed, and he could find himself being jealous again, I think by the time they’re married, he settled with the things that have happened in the past and is ready to look forward. I don’t think he’s blind to the fact that nine years have passed, during which she could have done anything with anyone. What mattered is that they were finally in the right place and the right time, determined to see it through.

Maybe another hot take of mine, but Emory doesn’t have that high of a body count. I wouldn’t estimate more than five, and that’s stretching it.

I’ve discussed this briefly before. I feel Emory overestimated what college was going to be like for her. Maybe she thought that getting away from Martin would allow her to open up, but I see her still struggling to do that. A mixture of that’s simply who she is, trauma, and being heartbroken over Will leads to her not making strong connections. This is also confirmed in Nightfall when she’s able to make calls and realizes she has no one waiting on her. No one is missing her, which his a sad thought, but makes sense in a way.

It's totally possible that she’s attempted to have a “normal” life, going on dates or trying her hand at hook-up cultural, probably thinking similar to a lot of readers, “if Will can do it, so can I.” But there is a difference between her and Will, and I think she wouldn’t "enjoy" herself the same way he does.

The quote you mentioned, I didn’t take as confirmation, but instead as deflection. She doesn’t answer his question, only reminds him he never got that far.

A lot people point to that as proof she has more experience but I like to point to Rika, Banks, and Winter in return.

Rika’s body count was one before being with Michael. Banks’ was zero, and it’s unlikely Winter had sex with a man other than Damon, though we know she’s at least kissed others. None of them experienced any kind of learning curve where they had to improve their technique.

I’m not entirely sure if PD’s aim was to show that when it’s with the person “you’re made for” then everything will feel right and it’ll all fall into place. Or if they just didn’t want to write about women learning things or sex between a couple getting better with time or what. Regardless, I don’t see that quote or anything that Emory did with Will as proof she’s had a lot of experiences away from him.

The way PD writes Will’s addictions lends to the idea that Women are grouped up with Drugs and Alcohol.

Since external relationships, or Will’s whoring around, seem to be linked with his drug use and drinking, it kind of points to that being a problem; one Will isn’t exactly proud of. I don’t see a scenario where Emory feels the need to bring up his past in a way to make him feel bad, or give him a taste of what he did to her by reminding him she had other people too. It would be the equivalent of reminding a recovering alcoholic of the horrible things they did when they were drunk. If you love someone, you don't just throw that in their face.

Emory accepted Will for who he was the day she asked him to marry her, his past included. It would be a shame if she were to keep this in her back pocket as a way get one over on him in the event of a fight.

And maybe my most controversial take: Emory doesn’t even think of those hypothetical men. Will does more than enough to satisfy her.

In Hideaway, Banks and Alex peek in on Will with another woman. Alex mentions that Will puts in the work in making his partner feel good.

In Nightfall, after Emory breaks Will out of prison and they’re in the back seat of the SUV, Damon parks and then, as he’s watching, says “Um…Wow. Okay.”

Damon.

Damon, who has watched Will with women many times before and has engaged with Will himself, sees the way Will goes after Emory, and this causes him to pause.

The first part I mention because it goes to the idea that Will might be the best lay of all the guys. It seems that he actually views the pleasure of his partner as a goal to achieve, as opposed to Michael or Damon who might view it as a curtsey on their part (except for with Rika and Winter, of course). Kai calls himself a “gentleman” but what does that even mean.

Point is, Will knows how to make people feel good. And now his focus and efforts are all towards Emory. Girl is livin' just fine.

I don’t think she would ever need a reason to conquer him this way.

I say all of this because whenever I get a request or an ask similar to this, it always comes across as if the goal is to make Will feel as bad as Emory did, to make him jealous of what she’s done. But I don’t see Emory going that low, and I don’t see a reason why she would. So writing something like that is a little difficult for me.

But like I said, if I were to take an honest crack at it, it would probably go something like

- The group is playing one of those truth or drink games (Will is sober so he always picks truth, but likes to all make it interesting by mixing it with like two lies and a truth).

-Emory pulls a card that is like “Reveal Your Body Count” or something and she immediately opts to take the shot. The group laughs it off, thinking it’s just Emory being private.

-Will senses the sudden shift in her mood, though she hides it well. He wonders if it’s the same thing that sting his heart. The reminder of the time they spent apart. The time they wasted not being together.

-It’s quiet on the way home. Will drives without seeing the road, lost in thought.

-Emmy, thinking he’s trying not to obsess over it, quietly whispers, “It’s probably not what you’re thinking.”

-Will looks over, seeing how she’s not making eye contact. He pulls the car over, coming to an abrupt stop that causes Emory to cry out.

-He turns to her and tells her that it doesn’t matter.

-Whatever she did to ease her pain or to enjoy her life, it wouldn’t change anything. Even if it were 50 or 100 or 500 men. He’ll accept it because he loves who she is, and whatever she had to do to make her who she is.

-Whether she wants him to know, that’s her decision to make. He wants to know everything about her, but he’ll never force her to admit to anything she doesn’t want to. Never again will he put her in that spot.

-He'd tell her every time he remembers all the different women he used trying to forget her, he hates himself more, especially when he knows she’s aware of it. That he ever gave her the idea that someone else could have him the way she has him, causes him so much disgust sometimes he can’t look at himself. That she ever walked into a room and wondered, not if but how many women he’d been with…

-The number doesn’t matter; there isn’t a number high enough to make him hate himself less and there isn’t a number low enough that’ll make him love her more.

-Emory nods, because she didn’t know he still felt that way and maybe that’s for the best. She doesn’t know if telling him the right thing, but they did promise no more secrets between them and maybe it would make things better if he knew.

And because this is my head canon

-She tells him there were a few. She tried, at various times in her life, to see if she could the “normal” college experience, and get over it and move on, but it didn’t work that way. She wasn’t connecting the way she should; like she was there, feeling and seeing everything, but the experience belonged to someone else.

To me, this makes sense for her character; that she’d want a connection to make the moment real. It’s why Aydin went for her head before her heart. Emory connects with her mind, not her body. I think it would probably hurt Will more if he found out she had a close friend she’d been vulnerable with, revealed everything to, who’d been there when she graduated college and got a job and when her grandmother died. All those experiences that he’d never get because he was being stupid. He’s too familiar with the idea that sex can be meaningless, why would her having meaningless sex with some nameless fellows bother him? But anyway –

-She tells him and he’s quiet. Then he nods. Then he puts the car back in Drive, intending to pull away.

-Emory says wait. He looks at her, open and wondering, but not angry. She asks if he has any questions before the topic is closed.

-He pauses, considering. Finally, he looks at her again and says, “The only thing that matters is if they hurt you.”

-Emory’s heart swells, because of course that’s what he’s concerned with.

-“No,” she tells him. “The only thing they did wrong was not being you.”

And that’s how it would go for me. No jealousy, no rage. In my head, Will is already aware of just how much better Emory is than him, he doesn’t need to be reminded.

I also don’t think of his exploits nearly as much as some of the readers seem to. I just don’t care, because he wasn’t committed to Emory. He wasn’t doing anything that he didn’t have the right to do. If he had developed a romantic bond with someone and then Emory came back into his life and he tried to play one or the other, than would be an issue for me. But the way I see it now, Emory connects through her mind. Her developing that type of bond outside of Will would hurt him more. And Will is so causal with sex that him developing a romance outside of Emory would hurt her more. Neither one did that, so this isn’t a sticking point for me.

But I know it is for a lot of people and I don’t feel that my view is any righter than someone else’s. I do hope that a fic writer who wants to undertake that plot point comes in to give the readers what they want. It just won’t be me.

I’m sorry I can’t deliver. I still appreciate you coming to me and asking. Thank you.

-KO

#asked and answered #asked and answered 189 #devil's night series #willemmy #fics #not a fic #but fic discussion

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