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loliwrites · 4 months

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I. Tenacity | Edelweiss

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, no infected here just terrible humans, mention of death, blood, and murder, mentions of hunger, diva cup appearance, talk of irregular menstrual cycles [trauma-induced menopause][epigenetics], DUBCON/NONCON [tagging ‘cause reader allows it but true enthusiastic consent is absent], brief SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, slow burn-ish, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.6k series masterlist a/n: my first go at writing something tlou-related. be gentle pls.

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Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady rhythm. You could count the number of times your hip would be shoved into the wooden table with a high degree of certainty of when it would be over. Michael never lasted too long. Somewhere between thirty-four and thirty-seven thrusts. He was never particularly rough, and though he was never chasing to make you feel good, he was at least better than George and James – both of whom would probably be lining up after Michael was done. George seemed to last forever. Some old fart who’d gained his stamina before the world came to a screeching halt. He usually landed somewhere between sixty-two and sixty-six thrusts. The bruises he left behind always lasted the longest because of the sheer amount of times he slammed your body into whatever you were up against. A table, a railing, an old pool table with torn, dirty felt. And the worst of all was James. He may not last the longest, but he had the uncanny ability of making you feel like some depraved wild animal he was trying to break. He never took his time to make sure it wouldn’t be absolutely painful like Michael did. Nor did he have a pencil dick to make it somewhat manageable like George. He took it how he wanted it – fast, unceremonious, and always left you in a mess you’d have to clean up.

Part of you wondered if this was worth it. If the wolf was only as strong as the pack, then having a pack was supremely necessary. And though, these guys… and the group they led… weren’t the people you would’ve gone with by choice. A pack was a pack. Alone, you were an easy target for almost anything and anyone. Being together afforded you safety in numbers. Relative safety in numbers. Safe enough to have stayed alive with them for the past six years. Years that you likely wouldn’t have gotten if you’d fought them tooth and nail and went off on your own. Solitude could only get you so far. No matter how proficient you were with your rifle.

The one that lay in front of you on the table. Clean, well-oiled, with a scope affixed to the top. As Michael started to moan recklessly behind you, you thought about the meals you’d forfeited in trade for the supplies needed to keep the weapon in the best of shape. Times were tough – had been tough for a couple decades now – and a gun was a gun. It didn’t need to be clean, it just had to work. But this was no ordinary gun.

Michael came inside you with a strangled grunt and pulled out a second later. That was a relatively new twist in the routine. For years the men were careful to never finish inside you… or any of the other women in the group. Food and resources were scarce enough as it was, let alone adding little mouths to feed and take care of. But a few months back, you’d confided in some of the women that your period hadn’t been coming when you expected it to. And when time had passed and neither a baby nor your period came, you came to the conclusion you were suffering from the same fate as some of the other women. A hard life compounded. Trauma induced menopause. You weren’t sure which of the women had ratted you out. But soon enough the men had become aware of your new biological situation, and they stopped the frantic pulling out as they came. Perhaps that was for the best. Who’d want to bring a child into a world like this?

“Was that alright?” Michael asked, buckling his belt back up. His back was turned toward you as he reached for his own rifle, which he’d propped up against the wall.

You glanced over at him and pulled your pants back up your legs. Over the lofted railing, you could hear George and James mumbling to each other. “Fine,”

“Did you…?”

He finally met your eyes. Anxiety-ridden. None of the other men ever asked, but you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. At some point maybe it’d sink in that he should stop partaking in the act just to fit in with the boys. “No,”

His gaze averted to the floor sheepishly and he shouldered his rifle. “Guess we should get back downstairs,”

“I’ll be down in a couple minutes,”

Now you were the one to turn your back on him. Though you hoped he’d come to his senses and start to become a better man. You knew he wouldn’t. He was initiated into the system. The one George and James, and all the other men in the settlement formed. The one that meant they brought girls along on patrols so they could get their kicks and save face with the others that they were doing their due diligence in protecting the group. And you joining the group… well you turned out to be the little guardian angel for the women in the pack. Good with a gun, able to pick off infected and humans alike from a mile out. It only seemed natural that the men going out on patrols would take you with them. For that you inadvertently protected the other women from your fate.

Michael cleared his throat and started down the stairs from the loft. You bit the inside of your cheek to show yourself you could still feel something, and – BANG!

Your head flicked around toward the noise. What was left of Michael was splattered against the wall leading up the stairs. You grabbed your gun and held it poised. Looked over the lofted banister and down at the room below. George had backed up into the far corner; his arms raised in non-threatening compliance. Someone must’ve been pointing a weapon at him, but you couldn’t tell from the angle. And James, well… if it didn’t warm your heart a little bit to see him being restrained in a chokehold with a handgun to his temple. The man you could see, holding James, was tall, muscular… he had black, curly, jaw-length hair. A thick mustache. He was in all denim. And it was clean, which was the thing that caught you the most off-guard.

You lifted your gun, disregarding the scope, and looked down the barrel. James may’ve been part of your pack, but you’d thought about putting a bullet in him on a daily basis for the last eight years. And while these guys might kill you afterward, at least you’d have the brief satisfaction of knowing that you’d taken one terrible human off the face of the planet.

So there was no hesitancy when you squeezed the trigger. The round flew by the denim-clad man’s head and went straight into James’. He crumpled to the floor and the man who’d been holding him looked up in your direction, though you’d backed away enough to ensure you weren’t seen.

Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Despite two thirds of your life having been in a post-Cordyceps world, the sound and reverberation of your rifle going off right by your ear didn’t keep it from ringing. An almost concussion-like haziness emphasized by the adrenaline coursing in your veins. From down below, you could just barely hear George pleading for his life. Something about how he had a woman he loved and wanted to go home to. Strange considering he had his dick in you on most days out.

The ringing in your ears started to quiet, just in time for you to hear a footstep behind you. A heavy one. Definitely belonged to a man. But not in time for you to spin around with your rifle before finding the man already pointing his rifle at you.

“Drop it,” he commanded gruffly. A deep, gravelly voice. He was sure of himself. Confident. His tattered jacket bunched up around his shoulders. He wasn’t as clean-looking as his partner currently detaining George. Graying, brown hair, a prominent scar over his nose, a scruffiness… and yet, he still looked too put together to have been living off the land for any amount of time. You should know. God knows what you looked like had you ever taken any time in front of a mirror. If the dirtiness of your hands were any indication, you were a little worse for wear. “I said, drop it,”

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and you slowly bent over and placed your rifle on the floor. No sooner than you’d completed the action, he had another order for you. Kick it here and get on your knees. So you did. Nudged your most prized possession away with your foot when another BANG! rang through the old hunting lodge. Your eyes flinched shut; the nanosecond of thought that this was it. You’re dead. But then… you still felt alive. And you squinted your eyes open to evaluate. Yep, definitely still alive. No bleeding holes coming from your body, and the man still in front of you waiting for you to comply with his last order. Which you did… awkwardly. A grimace stretched over your face when you knelt down and felt your pants sticking to your thighs; Michael’s spend dripping out of you.

The muzzle of the man’s rifle never left you, “got anything else on you?”

“Knife in my front pocket,”

“Slide it over,”

You did. Quickly. Hoping that your quickness and willingness to obey him would mean he’d let you go with your tail tucked between your legs.

“You infected?”

You glared at him, “do I look infected?”

He cocked his gun and held it up in line with your head. You trained your eyes on his index finger around the trigger. Just one twitch. That’s all it’d take.

“Joel,” both you and the man… Joel… looked away from each other, and fixed your eyes on the stairs where the second one – the one you’d disregarded in order to kill James – entered the loft. “Look at her gun,” both men looked at your rifle. “I don’t think she misses very often. If she was gonna kill us, we’d already be dead.”

He went to approach you, and this time Joel spoke up. A cautious step forward, “Tommy.”

But this Tommy… he took another couple steps in your direction and handed off his rifle to Joel when he went to stand in front of you. You kept your eyes on his face, tilting your head back to keep him in your line of vision. Even if he tried something, you weren’t sure what you’d do to stop him, but at least you’d see it coming.

“I don’t think you missed me. I don’t even think you were aiming at me,”

“I wasn’t,”

A victorious smile spread across his face and he twisted around to look back at Joel, “see.” Tommy looked back down at you and set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name?”

You flicked your eyes at Joel quickly before returning them to Tommy to answer his question.

“You’re with the other settlement?”

“I wouldn’t call them a settlement,” your eyes flicked over to Joel when he clicked his tongue on his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Nomads, at best,”

“And at worst?” Joel barked.

Your eyebrows lifted quickly in contemplation before… “a bunch’a assholes,”

Another wide grin broke out over Tommy’s face. “You got a family or a partner in that bunch of assholes?” He waited for a verbal response but you only shook your head. “We’ll take her back with us. She might be able to give us some answers about our friends we’ve been seeing on patrol.”

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They made you walk while they sat easily atop their horses. Some kind of cruel twist of fate that your own gun was turned on you the whole time. Joel made sure of that. Based on the way the sun fell toward the horizon, you figured you’d all been an hour and a half walk south of their settlement. Which as you neared the large wooden gates, seemed to be more like a QZ than some random encampment. And judging by the way the two men bickered, you assumed they were brothers. Only siblings could piss each other off like that and not take it personally. How lucky, you thought, that after all this time, they still had each other.

When you did near the enormous gates, Tommy left you behind with Joel. A precarious position. His face remained stoic the entire time, muzzle of the gun pointed at you… didn’t even answer when you asked if his horse had a name. You thought about goading him into an argument for the fun of it. Maybe he named his horse Princess. Or Spike. But Tommy interrupted again, riding up with a handful of others and even a dog. It growled and snarled in your direction, and you weren’t sure why, but you glanced back up at Joel to see if his expression had changed. Maybe you wouldn’t be so scared if he didn’t look like there was something you should be nervous about.

To your surprise, he was already staring at you. Upon meeting your gaze, he nodded once and jut his chin in the direction of the dog. “S’gonna sniff you. See if you’re infected. If not, like you say, nothin’ll happen.”

“If I am?” You cocked your head back toward the snarling animal.

“It’ll probably just take your leg off or somethin’,”

“Any chance this dog fucks up?”

“Probably not,”

And it didn’t. Thankfully. Hopefully this meant they’d trust explicitly that you indeed weren’t infected. They seemed to trust their trained animal enough to let you inside their settlement. Jackson, they called it. You’d never heard of it. Never heard of any rumblings of a massive commune. And yet…. It was gorgeous. Nice buildings, string lights, stables, a bar, dining hall, and in the distance, what seemed to look like a large, sweeping neighborhood.

Tommy had joined up with a woman: Maria. They kissed and spoke fondly to each other, so you assumed they were partners. Both walked ahead of you, while Joel remained at your rear. You figured with your rifle still pointed at you. Everyone stopped what they were doing when you passed by. All staring to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Would you be joining them permanently? Would they kill you? You asked yourself the same questions.

Your feet had stopped moving but you didn’t notice until you felt the muzzle of your rifle press against your upper back. Joel jabbed the metal against your back again, growing antsier with the fact that your gaze had settled on a teenager in the distance. She was staring at you, too. A fact that seemed to make Joel even more aggravated. He mumbled his annoyance to you and you got moving again, walking up the boarded steps into the dining hall.

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They treated you better than you expected. Hell, better than your group would’ve treated someone they didn’t know. They set a big glass of water in front of you with a heaping plate of vegetables, chicken, and fresh bread. The water was one of the biggest surprises. You couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t have to boil water before drinking it. Maybe when you were still with your parents. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Tommy and Maria shared glances like they weren’t sure what you were going to tell them. Considering no one else joined you, you figured these three (or a combination) held a great deal of power in the settlement. Joel, however, looked pissed that this was even happening at all. That he hadn’t just shot you on sight back at the hunting lodge. It was pretty easy to ignore him. You’d spent the better half of your time on earth ignoring men just like him. But then the questions started coming and you figured all this kindness came at a price. They wanted to know everything. So you didn’t hold back. Maybe if you were open and frank with them, they’d let you stay here. They wouldn’t make you go back to those awful people.

Told them that you’d been with that group for the last eight years. And in those eight years, they hadn’t really expanded their numbers by any considerable amount. That they hovered somewhere between forty-four and sixty-two people -- including the three that had been killed today – and that about two thirds of them were men. You even told them about how you’d become a sort of fun novelty for the men. That they brought you along on their scouts because you were better than anyone with a rifle. Once they got their rocks off by watching you down game a mile off, they got their rocks off again, fucking you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand the weight and pressure.

Joel looked down at his lap at that. Avoided your eyes. You took it to mean that he knew what that was like. Maybe he did the same.

You shrugged and pushed the remnants of food around on your plate. Eight years was a long time to endure that type of treatment. You told them as much.

“You don’t have loyalty to anyone in the other group?” Maria asked, probing.

“She shot one of her own guys today. Doesn’t have loyalty to anyone,”

Everyone’s heads turned to Joel. He’d since leaned back in his chair, almost nonchalantly. The gun that had been pointed at you now lay on the opposite end of the table. You thought you saw indignance in his eyes. Disdain for you and the plight he perceived you to be on. Scorched earth. Loyal to no one but yourself. Maybe that was true. Maybe you’d evolved to become highly selective in where to lay your loyalty.

“He wasn’t my guy,” you spat in Joel’s direction. It might as well have been just the two of you in the room. “He was the guy that killed my parents. So fuck him,”

It was hard to tell what they thought of you. Tommy was the only one who smiled freely. Maria saved hers for Tommy. And Joel didn’t smile at all. There was no talk of a plan or a future. No conversation about what was to become of you. All they told you as you wandered from the main street and down one cul-de-sac road lined with houses was that they didn’t allow anyone to have weapons in town. All firearms stayed at the armory.

That conversation ended as they stopped in front of a small one story cottage. It was dark and rickety, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fathom who you were to be put into the arms of. If the house was any indication, probably some horribly untidy mess of a man. Maybe it’d be the type of man you’d wished you’d have your gun around for.

Maria, Tommy, and Joel led you inside that dark, rickety cottage. Unlocked the door and flicked the lights on as they entered the living room. You kept your eyes and ears alert. Your awareness might be the only upperhand you had in sensing danger here. But you heard nothing. You saw nothing. There wasn’t another soul in this house waiting to attack. It was just you and the three who’d brought you here. They didn’t offer an explanation. Joel just stood back and eyed your every move carefully while Maria handed you a little stack of clean clothes, a toothbrush and a tube toothpaste, and a small cardboard box that held something you’d never heard of before: a diva cup.

You looked up to give her an apprehensive glance but found that she was already giving you one. It was a look you’d seen before. When you’d talked yourself into joining that other group all those years ago. It was the look the women had given you before they realized you were about to become their saving grace. She turned away from you and gave Tommy a peck on her way out; not even bothering to acknowledge Joel.

There was a part of you that admired her. For the amount of power she clearly wielded over not only these two men, but seemingly the entire commune. And the other part of you was scared of her. She reminded you of your mother. A strong, domineering type who knew how to control the men around her. You figured if the outbreak hadn’t happened and humans didn’t devolve before your very eyes, you might’ve become the same type of woman. The type who could keep her men in line with a look. The type whose men would’ve quivered at the look you’d shot them.

The front door shut behind Maria in the same moment Tommy was handing you a key. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the cold, smooth metal. It had been decades since you held one like it. Surely even before the outbreak, people just didn’t hand over keys to houses for nothing.

“You can stay in Jackson for a month on a little trial run–”

“Probation,” Joel interrupted.

Both you and Tommy flicked your eyes at him. While Tommy looked annoyed, you actually smiled. Somehow Joel’s bluntness was growing to be comforting.

“Jesus, Joel,”

He shrugged, “S’call it what it is. Probation to see if she’s a problem and we gotta send ‘er packin’,”

“Appreciate you both not shootin’ me,” you said, you voice sounding hoarse. You cleared your throat and shook your head absently; a small smile passing over your lips, “would’ve put a damper on my day.”

Tommy grinned though his brother looked unamused at your effort of levity. “Someone’ll come ‘round tomorrow morning around seven-thirty to bring you to the greenhouse. Teach you the workflow down there.” Then off your confused look, he smiled again, heading for the door, “if you’re gonna live in the community, you gotta help out.”

Joel turned his back on you to follow his brother, and you were quick on their heels, “what about my gun? I mean, does everyone have their own gun at the armory, or…”

“It’s a commune. We share,” Tommy said over his shoulder as he tugged the front door back open. He and Joel stepped through the threshold, but your voice stopped them.

“It’s just that… I’d rather not be here and have my gun, than be here and have someone else usin’ it. I appreciate what you’re doin’, and your helping me out, but… to me, staying in Jackson isn’t worth havin’ someone else use my weapon,”

“It’ll be safe,”

Tommy’s voice rang clear and sure, trying to reassure you of something. What, you weren’t certain. But he continued on his way, and only once he stepped off the small porch, did you realize that Joel had momentarily kept himself frozen in place. By your front door, staring you down. You started to shrink back beneath his gaze, unable to discern what it was trying to convey to you. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. The door nearly concealed you entirely before Joel got his bearings again and descended the porch steps and jogged to keep pace with Tommy again.

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The whole thing was weird. All of it. Jackson was an anomaly and the more you tried to make yourself at home, the weirder it got. The house they’d just given you was definitely a pre-outbreak build. It was obvious. Some of the other houses on the block looked new. You imagined they’d smell new. Not your cottage. Scuffed up wood floors. Cracks in the paint and drywall. Even the wood-burning stove. And when you looked out the front window, out at the street, you saw children. Walking by themselves. Joking around. Not nearly on edge or high alert. In fact, you dared to say that they looked like they were having fun.

You’d only been ten when the world came crashing down around you. Fun ripped out from right under your feet. The homestead you’d grown up on – climbing trees, playing hide and seek, shooting down Coke cans – once a safe place to be a kid, had quickly become something to be defended. As you found out many moons later, to the death.

At ten, there wasn’t anything to rebuild in the new world. You hadn’t had any worldly possessions to hang onto. When money became obsolete, it didn’t matter because you’d never had any. Perhaps in a bank somewhere, stuffed away in a savings account that no longer held any weight. Nor did you need the money to get by in life these days. You’d heard tales of the QZ’s from people who’d come from them. Escaped from them. They had a new type of currency. Not the kind you used to have. The green paper money with a bunch of old dudes on the front. The kind your family burned sometime in the winter of 2006 when the first freeze took over and you were sure you’d never get back to the old normal.

And that was what made Jackson the weirdest. It was the closest to ‘old normal’ you’d seen in over two decades. A whole town. Village. Commune, they’d called it. A formal education had stopped young, so the only awareness of anything commune related came from a book your father had about the Bolshevik’s October Revolution. And if you were being honest, it didn’t sound too good. But on top of that, how were you supposed to rebuild now? Maria had been kind enough to give you a few things, but there wasn’t wood for the wood-burning stove. And the electricity might’ve been working, but there wasn’t any food in the fridge. No sides of deer cut up and stored in a chest freezer. How were you supposed to get that in a commune? Did they have money? Did they barter? And either way, you had no money to give and nothing to barter. So how exactly were you supposed to get on in life?

Face up, staring at the ceiling, you laid in bed willing yourself to go to sleep. You’d gone to bed hungry before. More times than you could count. But usually those nights were accompanied by a dirt floor, extreme cold, the threat of being hunted. A million other things to keep your mind off of the fact that your stomach was growling. There wasn’t any of that in Jackson. Everything was quiet, almost eerily so. You were warm. And even though the mattress wasn’t the comfiest of things, it sure as hell beat the floor. With all these little luxuries, it was hard to ignore the hunger.

But even if you had been asleep, you’re sure you would’ve been woken by the footsteps on your old, rickety porch. None of the wood planks laid exactly right. All creaking with age and rot. Much like the world, you thought. Plus you couldn’t remember a night’s sleep that wasn’t disturbed by panic or anxiety, or just plain fear. Probably hadn’t had a peaceful night like that since before the outbreak. Now that creaking on your porch made you jump up and scurry into the corner of your bedroom. Into the shadows. Praying you’d had your rifle. Cursing the idea that you’d stay here without it.

The creaking came and went in a steady procession. Four footsteps. A pause. Another four footsteps. On and on for a few minutes. Long enough for you to have gained your courage again. Long enough for you to have crawled to the front room and peek through the window. Long enough for you to see Joel Miller ambling back and forth on the porch, stacking pieces of wood, conveniently chopped to fit the size of your wood burning stove. What a stark difference from the Joel Miller who’d been pointing a gun at your head this morning. You went to the door and unlatched it, slowly pulling it open so as to not startle him. He came to an abrupt stop. An armful of wood. Staring at you.

He blinked a couple times in quick procession, gaining the wherewithal to move again. “M’sorry if I woke ya’,”

You shook your head, “I don’t sleep much.”

Joel nodded and set the armful of wood on top of the rest. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, almost sheepishly. “Winter comes up on us pretty quick here. Insulation in this place is for the birds. Figured you’d need some wood for the stove.”

“Oh,”

“I cleaned out the flue a couple months back so you shouldn’t smoke yourself out,”

Lips pursed together, you pondered the stack of wood nestled up against the cottage. “I don’t think I’m gonna stay. Doesn’t seem like this is the right place for me,”

Joel didn’t have a response for you, just looked down at his feet and kicked at a nonexistent something on the porch.

“That gun–my gun. My dad gave it to me in 2003. September 26th,”

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours. Pain riddled in his gaze as if he remembered that date all too well. And when it vanished, the coldness you’d first noticed in the hunting cabin returned.

“It’s all I have left. And as ridiculous as it sounds to be so attached to a rifle, I am. And I–”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” he interrupted. Just when you thought he’d continue on and show a little more softness, kindness… he kept speaking, “Look, I don’t care if you stay or go. Don’t need stragglers hangin’ ‘round. So I’d love to give you your gun back and dump ya’ out past the gate. But Tommy’s always been a little stupid. Takes chances on people,”

“What an idiot,” you smirked.

A smile flashed over Joel’s face. It was gone in a second. And he turned away from you, descending the porch steps. “He’ll bring you to the greenhouse. Teach’ya how things operate, and…” he took a deep breath. Something almost like fondness erupted in his tone, “you might not wanna stay, but don’t fuck things up there for the rest of us. We got families here. And we’ll need the resources to get through the winter.”

“You think I’d fuck things up on purpose?”

Joel looked over his shoulder and nodded, “yeah. ‘Cause I’ve been in your spot before and I did.”

He continued on and you stayed put on your porch, watching him until he was out of sight. Wondering where the house he was given was. If he was alone, or if he had some sort of partner living with him. But also figured you’d never get the chance to know.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

“We get most of our roughage and root vegetables in the colder months. There’s a constant harvest to keep up with the community’s needs, but some of these aren’t hearty enough to withstand the winter. Even inside the greenhouse,”

You nodded dutifully behind Wendy. At least you think that was the name Tommy mumbled as he was being dragged out of the greenhouse by Joel. Something about being late for patrol and not wanting to spend all day on some godforsaken cliffside. She’d just got done showing you the strawberry vines. The lifeless things that she assured you would spring to life when the warmer weather came back.

The work was easy enough. Boring. Nothing you hadn’t already done on your family’s land as a teenager. Only this was on a much smaller scale. Maybe most of these people had come from QZs. And maybe before that they came from big cities. Places where they never knew where their food came from. That it just somehow appeared in their groceries. Yet, by current standards… of canned things from yesteryear, the greenhouse was a bit of a spectacle. Something beautiful.

Wendy continued on her well-practiced lecture about potatoes as you got lost roaming the rows of plants. Up and down each long, leafed path. Fingers gliding over them, not taking the time to stop and acknowledge any plant in particular. Until, in the absence of your thought, your fingers brushed over something woolly. Pulling your hand back, you focused in. There, just beyond your fingertips, a tray of small white flowers. The petals, less like blossoms, but more like leaves. And woolly. Fuzzy. Unlike anything you’d ever seen.

“What’re these?” Eyes still locked onto your discovery, you hadn’t fully comprehended that you’d interrupted Wendy’s spiel.

And yet when she came upon you, there was no ill will or annoyance from her. Just her gentle hand on your shoulder. “It’s edelweiss,” she smiled and shrugged her shoulders when her answer had you giving her a questioning glance. “It’s usually up in the Alps. In the middle of nowhere. Jesse came back from patrol one day ‘bout a year ago with a handful of these plucked up from the root. No idea how they ended up in Wyoming.” Wendy brushed her fingers over the fuzzy leaves.

“How’d you know what they were?”

“Call it coincidence or divine intervention, my grandfather had an oil painting of them above his fireplace in the eighties. When he was stationed in Germany during the war, he’d heard all these stories about this little star-shaped flower. Soldiers would climb high up into the mountains to find them. They grow in the harshest places, sometimes even right on rocks. The journey to get them was hard. A lot of guys didn’t finish the trip, but if they did, they got to pin one of these to their uniforms. A symbol of true bravery,”

You admired the flowers again. Now even a smile crossed your face.

Wendy let out an exasperated sigh, “and I figured, hell… if they can survive on the top of the Alps and in this nightmare of an apocalypse, Jesse finding ‘em wasn’t no mistake. Maybe we’re lucky here in Jackson.”

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klaus-littlestwolf · 10 months

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Lost Boys Sick!Mate Headcanon

(For whoever requested a Sick Mate Headcanon for the Lost Boys, I hope you enjoy this)

David

•David wants to change you immediately

•He hates seeing you sick, miserable or in any kind of pain and while most people wouldn’t believe David can be sympathetic, for you he very much is

•He has been trying to get you to turn for a long time and while this is a convenient way of convincing you, he really just wants you to get better

•David hasn’t been sick in…several hundred years. He’s the oldest out of the whole pack and so he remembers sickness the least of all of them, the only thing he can relate it to is not feeding for a long amount of time and he knows how painful that gets to be

•He would lay with you in the bed in the cave, whether you live with them in the cave yet or not, that is where you will be staying and you have no choice, he won’t let you be alone while you’re ill

•He often gives you massages whenever your muscles are achy, he knows how good it makes you feel and it makes him feel like he’s able to do something to help you, even if it’s just to relieve a small bit of your discomfort

•He’ll definitely make Marko go out to get you food, though he doesn’t know what kind of food since you keep insisting that you aren’t hungry

•David wants to care for you, he just has no clue how and if you weren’t sick as a dog, it might even be adorable how frazzled he is

Overall Grade of Care: 4/10

Dwayne

•Dwayne would be a major worrier every single time you get sick

•While he doesn’t remember what it’s like to personally be sick, he does remember his younger sister being sick when he was human and dying of a fever, so every time you’re even remotely warm he attempts to put you in an ice bath

•When you are bed ridden he is sure to make you stay in the cave, he’s always by your side and will often sit and read to you until you drift off to sleep

•He tries to keep you fed as much as you’ll allow with your upset stomach and he gives you plenty of water, to the point you wonder if vampires can survive being waterboarded cause you’re ready to kill him

•Dwayne is very much like David, he doesn’t know how to take care of a human that’s sick and he doesn’t understand that sometimes you just need to let an illness run it’s course

•Eventually he would buy some medicine at the store (Marko’s recommendation) and give it to you. He’s completely stunned by how quickly you finally fall asleep with how badly you’ve been coughing but the medicine works

Overall Grade of Care: 5.5/10

Paul

•Paul is chill when you get sick, he knows most of the time it’s just a little cold

•He gives you a few shots of whiskey and smokes a joint with you until you pass out, most of the time you wake up feeling better

•When you don’t however, he becomes frantic

•He will run around like a human having a manic episode. He makes sure you’re as comfortable as you can be, and if you’re not he goes to the store and buys more pillows and softer blankets. Hell get you new pajamas and more boxes of tissues than you’ll ever use

•He cleans the entire area you’re in as best he can in a cave, trying to get rid of germs that could make you sick all over again. It would be funny if you didn’t want to strangle him for moving so supernaturally fast that he makes you even more dizzy which makes your stuffy head hurt more

•He tries not to bother you too much, getting you to sleep as much as he can because apparently humans only heal when they’re sleeping so you need to sleep until you feel better

•He doesn’t quite understand that there’s a limit to how much NyQuil you can take

•Paul means well and he wants to help, he just goes too far with it most of the time

Overall Grade of Care: 7/10

Marko

•Marko is probably the best of the boys to have taking care of you when you’re ill

•He gets you medicine immediately and actually reads the instructions to give you the correct dosage

•He ensures you are comfortable in the bed, making sure to keep the blankets on when you’re cold and removing them if and when your fever gets too high

•When you’re too warm, which seems to be most of the time, he will strip to his boxers and crawl into bed with you, his cold skin making you feel better almost instantly

•He goes to the store and gets you whatever you want but also picks some things for you to make you feel better. He gets you your favorite tea bags to make you hot tea, the Chamomile helping to calm you and be able to sleep better, he also gets you some cans of coke to sip on when your stomach is upset

•He makes you soup everyday to keep you eating, even if you cant hold too much down, it’s not too heavy on your stomach

•Marko will also rent movies (and by rent I mean take them from Max’s store when he’s not looking) to bring back for you two to watch together to keep you entertained

•Marko was a human not too long ago, Paul being the only one younger than him, and he remembers very well how to take care of sick people, he is very good at making sure you get well as quickly as you can

Overall Grade of Care: 9.5/10

Lost Boys Masterlist

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nedtylue · 1 month

Note

Hellooo!! im sure you know why im here (hehehe),

May i please request some lucifer fluff, like how mc would have to go about (lovingly) forcing him to take a damn break, (mans may know he doesn't need as much sleep as a human but he still needs the normal amount of sleep a demon does) and i know the first idea is kind of overused when it comes to luci fics and headcannons buuuuuuut it could be reversed so that its mc who overworks themself (tbh relateable) and luci has to (attempt to) help them to relax and during his attempts hes like 'am I this bad when I overwork myself' (and a mc who overworks themself could be a prompt for all the bros if yoou wanted to write something with them all)

(also i may return with another request if i get anymore ideas your writing is very good (20/10 would eat if possible/hj) the second idea kind of sounds like im trying to sell you a car or smth lol i promise im not)

sorry if its alot i started ranting a lil bit (btw me mentioning 2 ideas usually means i had one and then it split as i was typing and my brain went maybe they want a choice)

(feel like i've typed too much) thank you for reading the ramble thing if you read all of it feel free to write it hw you want and have a good day/night (morning, evening, midday, lunch, breakfast???)

Hey sweetheart! I love this especially since I've been working on an angsty fic for a while so I really appreciate the fluff! Anyway I decided to just make it a full fic with only Lucifer, hope you enjoy!!

Please take a break

“Lucifer, could you please take a break? Just a quick nap, or even fetching a snack from the kitchen will do”

“I will, dear“ Lucifer replies, not looking up from his work “Just after I finish this paper”

And Mc sighs. They refrain from telling Lucifer that this is the fifth time he said that today. Saying so will only make him more stubborn

So Mc just settles in their chair and tries to get cozy. They check their DDD, knowing that it's way past their bedtime, and they're met with the clock mocking them that they'll have to be at RAD in four hours. Exhaustion washes over them, and they silently beg their future self to forgive them for the suffering they'll bestow on them

They put away their DDD, and when they feel their eyes droop shut, they feel a bit of defeat settle in their heart. This won't be the first time they fall asleep in Luci's study, and they know Lucifer will stop his work soon, will carry them to their bed, and will make sure they're well tucked and cozy.

They just hoped the break they give him this time wouldn't be the five-minute walk from his study to their room

But Mc still begrudgingly counts that as a win, because if this doesn't count as a way to distract Lucifer from his work for at least five measly minutes, then Mc might just go mad from watching this man work his life away

And soon enough, when Mc fell asleep and soft snores accompanied the sound of pen on paper, Lucifer would look up at his beloved darling. A small smile will appear on his face as he admires Mc and how peaceful they look while they're asleep. He still feels a sense of wonder every time Mc falls asleep in his presence, amazed by how at ease Mc is in his company that they'd let themselves be so vulnerable.

He'd admire their beauty for a long time, pen still in hand as if he could snap himself out of his trance anytime and continue working, but he knows he won't. Not when Mc is sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. He would sooner or later get up, and carry Mc in his arms to their bed. He would lay gently, throw the covers over them, and watch them. His hand would lightly move a few strands of hair from their cheek and would stay there, gently cupping his beloved's cheek, lightly caressing them when the love and adoration in his chest became too much for him to handle.

He sees the dark circles under their eyes and he winces, feeling a pang of guilt stab at his chest. Mc is just too stubborn. He's already told them that he's fine, that he doesn't need to sleep as much or eat as often as humans, but they still try to get him to take a break from his work. He even urges them to go and rest, knowing that humans should sleep for eight hours a day, but they refuse, saying that they'll rest once Lucifer takes a break.

He can't believe he fell for such a stubborn human

And yet, he smiles like a lovesick fool as he watches them sleep.

Lucifer feels a stir in the house. Satan must've woke up, and is making his way to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Lucifer checks the time and sees that Mc will have to wake up in an hour. He knows he must leave now, he's still got work to do before he has to make sure that his brothers are up and ready for school.

But then exam season rolls in, and something they didn't expect happened

He leans in, his lips briefly touching his beloved's hair, then he slowly gets up and leaves Mc's room, throwing one last glance their way, watching how their chest slowly moves with every breath, before he finally shuts the door behind him and makes his way to his study.

—————————————————————

The brothers have seen how often Mc tries to get Lucifer to take a break no matter how much he refuses, and they let them. Soon, Mc will realise that there's no getting Lucifer away from his work (Unless there's an emergency, of course) They just gotta wait for Mc to make this realisation on their own

Mc now refuses to stop studying.

It was funny the first two days, exams haven't even started yet, they're going to start a whole week from now, and yet anywhere you see Mc, there's a book in their hands, or notes, or flashcards, or-

The point is, wherever you see Mc, they're studying. They'd get startled whenever anyone tries to talk to them, and if they agree to go somewhere or do something with the brothers to, you know, give themselves a break, they would agree. And show up with something to study with

Slowly, this stopped being funny when Mc and turned concerning very quickly stopped showing up at the dinner table, opting to eat in their room surrounded by their books. When whenever anyone would ask them anything they'd say 'Sorry, not now, maybe after I'm done studying' Even if they asked Mc what day it was, that's their answer!!

And they're never done studying! Even if you catch them without a book, they're mumbling to themselves various formulas, answering imaginary questions, and generally not beinh fully there! Their eyebags became so deep Belphie tried knocking them out one time, but Mc just sidestepped him. Their hair is disheveled Asmo tried taking them on a spa day, but the workers were so unnerved by Mc's constant mumbling and suddenly moving to check a lesson, a spell, or an answer on their DDD

It was also unnerving everyone they knew, the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos, the angels, and even Solomon. They all tried getting Mc to take a break, but Mc refused. They keep telling them that they're fine, that they've slept enough, that they eat and take regular breaks (never mind that they barely sleep for one hour before they wake up for RAD, and take a half-hour nap max if they really, really feel like shit. never mind that all their food is snacks or that their 'regular breaks' are their bathroom breaks)

And Lucifer of course isn't just idly watching Mc wither away like this. He tries to take them on dates, tries to convince Mc to sleep at a reasonable time, and tries to make them eat anything that doesn't come pre-packaged

He's never seen them push themselves like this

“Well of course they will,” Asmo tells him as all the brothers look at him accusingly “that's all they see you do!”

“Yeah, you hypocrite” Mammon crosses his arms and shakes his head “How are they supposed to listen to a word you say if you do the exact same thing?”

“I'm a demon” Lucifer defends himself. He won't keel over if he works too much for a while, Mc will

“It doesn't matter to them,” Satan says “You showed them that overworking oneself is normal, now they're going to work until they burn themselves out”

Mammon rushes for the water-

“Not literally, Mammon”

Lucifer lets out a sigh

“I'll talk to them”

“That's not gonna cut it” Belphie glares at Lucifer

“You need to take care of yourself, Lucifer, and once they see you do that, they'll follow”

Lucifer stares at Beel, then slowly turns to look at the rest of his brothers. They all seem to agree, and that makes him sigh. He'll try, of course. For Mc, he's ready to do anything.

—————————————————————

The tic-ticking of the clock stopped bothering Mc a long time ago. They stopped checking the time, watching the time pass makes them feel so nervous. Instead, they rely on the numerous alarms they set up on their DDD to tell them when they should sleep, wake up, eat, and check if there's anything they've put off doing for too long

“hmm?” They ask, still reciting under their breath how an Angel's muscles replicate the movement of a diaphragm when a human is near-

Something in the back of their mind tingles. They think they may have heard a knock on the door, and they might have mumbled “Come in” but they aren't entirely sure. They've been way too focused on memorizing the difference between angels' and demons' respiratory systems to notice the door opening and closing, to hear the footsteps, or sense their favorite demon coming up behind them. They only slightly turn their head when they feel a hand on their shoulder gently shaking them

“Mc? Could you leave your books for a moment?”

“I'm busy now. Maybe after I-”

“It's four in the morning, Mc”

Mc tilts their head slightly, looking at Lucifer in confusion before turning to look at the clock. There's no way it's four already, it was just one like half an hour ago-

But the hands of the clock show that it is four fifteen now. Shit, now they don't have time to revise the spells in chapter five before they go to sleep, and the General Spells exam is in three days-

“Mc, please look at me” A touches Mc's cheek and gently guides them until they look into Lucifer's eyes. He looks so sadly at them. It makes Mc wanna cry

“You've been pushing yourself far too much, my darling. What happened?” He asks, and something in how soft he sounds makes Mc lean into his hand until it's the only thing supporting their body

“It's just been a hard semester” Mc mumbles as they stare into his eyes. They shine so beautifully in the soft glow

“I see” Lucifer replies, feeling a bit of relief spreading through him. He's so glad Mc is actually looking at him, actually replying to him, and not just repeating that empty promise they've been saying for the past week-

Mc suddenly pushes themselves away from his hand and tries to go back to the book

“I have to study. I'm behind, I was supposed to be done with anatomy three hours ago. Can we talk later, Luci?”

A hand again guides their face, the other slowly turns the chair until Mc is facing at Lucifer. He’s kneeling on the ground and looking so gentle and tender and warm that Mc wants nothing to do but sink into his arms

But if they do so they might fail their classes, and Lucifer will be so disappointed in them

“Lucifer, please, leave me alone. It'll just be for one week, then I'll spend time with you all you want” Mc was now looking at Lucifer, a hint of frustration could be seen in their eyes. They really just need to get past this week, only this week, just one more week then they can rest

But their voice was laced with a hint of desperation. They can't let their grades slip, they can't

And something in Lucifer just breaks at seeing his darling like this.

His brothers' words echoed in his ears

He really is the one to blame for Mc's state here. How could he call himself a deserving partner when he's let Mc slip from him like this?

“No, Mc,” Lucifer whispers so tenderly as he takes their hand into his

“You need to rest, to eat. Come on, love”

He gets up and pulls Mc until they're standing up, then starts guiding them out of the room.

Mc resists weakly. They really feel tired, and they've been ignoring their hunger for-for… how long now?

“But Luci…” They still try protesting, hoping that he could at least let them study while they eat “I'm not done yet with todays studies”

“No, love” Firmness. He opens the door, and continues guiding Mc towards the kitchen “That's enough studying for today, and for tomorrow, if we can help it-”

“No!” Mc turns around so quickly and looks at Lucifer in panic “I can rest for today, but not tomorrow!”

Lucifer just chuckles lightly, feeling amused by their reaction and kisses their forehead

“Alright, you'll rest for today, and then we'll see what happens tomorrow”

Mc just sags and hums, closing their eyes and lean into the kiss, and Lucifer could feel his heart swell in his chest

His Mc is just so adorable

And so Lucifer makes them sit in the kitchen while he makes them a light snack, and watches them eat it. He guides his beloved to his room, where there's nothing they can use to study, and lays them in his bed, joining them so he can engulf them in his embrace.

He watches them as their eyes droop and shut, as their breathing evens out, and their body goes slack in his arms. He watches them for a long time, until sleep gets a hold of him too, and he finds himself drifting away into the land of sleep.

He wakes up to his beloved trying to get up, to leave his arms and go to RAD, but he just shushes them and holds them closer

“Shh, you're not going today. We can ask Satan for notes late. Rest for now, love”

And Mc goes back to sleep in mere minutes, and Lucifer decides to just follow them. He hasn't been around Mc for a whole week, would it be that bad to spend the morning drifting in bed with them?

Soon, Mc stirs and wakes up, and Lucifer feeling them stir opens his eyes. After a quick look at the clock to check how long they've been asleep for, he relents and lets Mc get up

“Where are you going” He squints at them suspiciously as he sees them move towards the door, and they look back sheepishly, like they've just been caught doing something they know they're not supposed to be doing

“I'm going to my room?” Lucifer shakes his head

Mc pouts at Lucifer but obliges, muttering under their breath a quick “Do I really?”

“No, go to the bathroom and take a bath. A long one, Mc. You deserve one”

“Yes, you do” Lucifer sighs and gets off the bed. He moves towards Mc and gently cups their cheeks in his hands

“You deserve to rest, Mc, you've been studying non-stop this past week” He leans forward and kisses their forehead “Now, go take a shower. I saw Asmo sneak in some products for you to use. I'll go prepare some breakfast for us, and we could eat in the garden, how does that sound?”

Mc nods, and Lucifer lets go of them. He goes to prepare some french toast- one of Mc's favorite breakfasts- along with various sweet fruits for them to eat and goes to prepare their little picnic in the garden

Soon, Mc joins him looking far more relaxed than before. He hugs them, his fingers combing through their soft hair as the smell of the strawberry shampoo wafts through the air

“How do you feel love?” He feels Mc's arms around him tighten as Mc snuggles just a bit closer, then they release him. It takes him a moment to release them too

“Better” They say, their voice so soft and they smile so warmly at him, Lucifer almost wants to pull them back into his arms

But he knows that his love hasn't been eating well, and he'd hate for their breakfast to run cold, so instead, he holds their hand and pulls them towards the table he's prepared for them

They eat in silence, enjoying the serenity of the moment, the presence of each other. Lucifer basks in the peace and quiet only the absence of his brothers give him, while Mc's enjoys how calm and silent their mind has become after their rest.

Lucifer seems to notice Mc's mind wandering back to their studies, and he frowns slightly at that

But exams aren't done yet, they still have a week of suffering before it's over. They really should be studying right now

...But they could have this nice morning for themselves. Just this once, as a treat

He lowers his cutlery, and looks at Mc, his expression serious yet soft as he calls for them

“Yes?” They know what Lucifer will try to say, and they know how to respond. They really need to study hard, or else their grades will slip-

“Mc”

Mc turns to look at Lucifer as they pop a bloodshade into their mouth, enjoying the sweet-sour taste of the fruit

“would you stop pushing yourself too hard if I stop too?” Mc startles at this question

“…what?” They stare at Lucifer, tilting their head in confusion. Where did that come from?

He puts his hand over theirs, and Mc sees guilt in his eyes. It's not a good look on him. Mc wants to squish it out of existence

“My love, you're always trying to get me to take a break, and I've always brushed off your concerns. I feel so foolish now,”

“You were acting like a fool, Luci�� He huffs out, but mirrors the smile on Mc's face

“Yes, I suppose I was, but if watching me made you feel even half as worried as watching you study, then I ought to apologize to you. I'm truly sorry for brushing off your concerns, Mc, and making you worry about my well-being, and will take as many breaks as you want from me, dear, if you promise to stop overworking yourself"

He brings Mc's hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles, sending a wave of warmth travelling through Mc until it rests in their cheeks

"How does that sound, darling?” he asks and looks at Mc so sincerely that it almost makes them feel overwhelmed

So Mc smiles brightly at Lucifer. They nod, agreeing with this deal, and feel their heart skip a beat at the smile that appeared on Lucifer's face

Mc has known that they were overworking themselves, and maybe the thought that 'if Lucifer can do it then they can too' have crossed their mind once or twice, but they didn't think that Lucifer would get so worried. Worried to they point that he'd put his work aside, basically put Diavolo aside just for them.

Maybe they've pushed themselves too much. Maybe they need to slow down a bit, if only to stop the others from worrying, to stop their boyfriend from worrying.

And this sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Mc is not going to look a gift horse in the mouth

Yes, this is quite the sweet deal they have

—————————————————————

Welp, this was fun! Sorry it took me more time than I thought it would, it was supposed to be a quick thing but, oh well

Also dw I also rant a lot it's like my brain just screams mid-writing You Know What Would Sound Better??!!! So yeah I enjoyed writing this and I really hope you enjoy reading it ^^

Also I really love your energy and I hope you have a fun day/night!!! (Brunch/ lunch /dinner??) :>

#obey me #obey me!#obey me one master to rule them all #omswd #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me fluff

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heliads · 1 year

Note

GIRLFRIEND i adored your lewis hamilton fics and am BEGGING you to write one for our boy charles leclerc!!! reader could be the public relations manager for the team and after another one of ferraris (unfortunate) racing tactics the press is badgering charles about what went wrong and overstepping boundaries and reader (who would be charles' gf or something idk) kinda steps in and puts them in their place

girlfriend!! anything for charles!

masterlist

If there’s one job worse than being a Scuderia Ferrari strategist, it’s being the director of public relations for the same team. The strategists really do try, bless their misguided little hearts, or so they claim, at least, but they do tend to cause a fair amount of trouble. Every race week, you prepare your statements for every kind of mishap, and every race week, you find yourself scrambling to draft responses to all types of new problems. Delightful.

Well, at least it’s interesting. Besides, the need for all these responses keeps you in a job, so you can’t really complain all that much. If there was one person with a legitimate bone to pick, though, that would have to be your boyfriend. He’s the one out there on the track whose shot at the Drivers’ Championship slips away with every bad plan, but for some reason, Charles Leclerc has still managed to keep his public affection for his racing team in fact.

Publicly, that is. When no one’s around but the two of you, when no one can hear you but the moths clustering on the outside of your glowing windows and the curling wind after dark, Charles sighs and runs his hands through his already mussed hair and actually says what he wishes.

It’s sort of funny, actually, that the only person Charles feels safe to be honest with is the PR head for his own company. As if you’d do a thing to hurt either him or his reputation, though. With the daunting task of carrying the hopes and dreams of all the Tifosi, Charles’ image and the man himself are one and the same. If you can protect him in any way, why would you not?

You just have to take care that you’re doing it inconspicuously. Very few people on this earth know about your relationship with Charles, you’d done that on purpose. Both of you were afraid of the toll it would take on your respective careers should the news come out. You would be accused of unfairly favoring a fellow employee, and he would be called out for similar HR violations.

That’s what years of public relations occupations have taught you. That’s the textbook answer: you don’t date your coworkers and so you don’t have to find out what sort of backlash that blunder would win you. In all reality, you have no idea what would happen. Ferrari loves Charles, and you’ve won them some serious Internet credit over the years. After steering them away from several controversies, you’d think they’d be willing to cut you some slack.

Such a scenario, of Fred Vasseur letting you date his golden boy, isn’t even feasible in your imagination, let alone real life. Your little fantasy of public acceptance will have to stay just that until several miracles happen all at once to twist the popular eye in your favor.

Until then, though, you’re happy with what you have, truly you are. You fell in love with Charles for a reason, despite your best efforts and smartest choices. He is a wonderful man and an even better boyfriend. No one in this world has prioritized you or cared about you even half as much as he does. Charles does nothing by halves– not his racing, not his passion for his sport and career, and certainly not loving you.

With him, you feel wanted, and with him, you are willing to hide until hell freezes over and you’re allowed to go public without risking your job. Right now, you have everything, and there’s no way you’d risk that. Working at Ferrari was your dream, and you’ve had it for years now. Falling in love with someone like Charles was beyond your wildest imagination, but somehow that came true, too.

And, when you speak to Charles, he says much of the same thing. Sometimes, when you talk to him, you can still see the boy who’d promised his father he’d drive for Ferrari, the same kid who stepped into a kart for the first time and knew it would be his world forever. Charles has a spirit wholly unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, yet he still swears that his life wasn’t complete until he met you.

Despite all of his charm, you had still initially tried to resist your feelings for him. Charles had joined Scuderia Ferrari only a year before you did; both of you were relatively new to the love and scourge of the Tifosi. It had been easy, then, to talk with him, to laugh with him, to let him eke out a place in your heart. It was inevitable. It was glorious. It was him.

You hadn’t counted on falling for him, but before you knew it, your heart was doing slow loops in your chest whenever you saw him, and meetings suddenly became way more interesting because Charles always went out of his way to sit next to you. It didn’t matter that drivers usually avoided public relations and media people like the plague, you were suddenly his favorite person in the world.

You watched and waited for it to stop, for him to get distracted by someone else, but that time never came. Charles still stayed hopeless for you, and when you could no longer hide the fact that you felt the same way, he asked you out at last, high on the adrenaline rush of winning a race. You had said yes, of course, and everything after that was history.

Charles is yours now, and you are his. He makes everything make sense, even when the two of you are gnashing your teeth over godawful strategy calls. It’s good to know that he will always be there to discuss the day’s work. It’s good to know that you will always have him.

That doesn’t mean that the Scuderia Ferrari strategists are in any way let off the hook, though. In fact, since you’ve started dating Charles, your resentment towards their bad calls has only grown. Both of your jobs are on the line whenever the strategy team messes up, and yet the problems keep coming.

For example, this week you’re reckoning with another round of bad calls. This time was another erroneous tyre mixup. Charles somehow went into qualifying with two different kinds of tyres on his car, like the strategists ran out of mediums and they decided two hards and two softs would do the same amount of work.

Spoiler: it did not, and now Charles will be starting the next race from a less favorable position than hoped. In between furious complaints from Charles and utter incredulity from yourself, you’ve been scrambling to come up with some sort of angle for the Ferrari drivers to play during their next interviewers. Yet another crazy turn of events, but when has Formula One ever been boring?

Just in case, you’ll be patrolling the paddock with the other drivers and their communication managers so you can be available if the reporters start asking the kinds of questions Scuderia Ferrari wants to avoid. You split your time evenly between Charles and Carlos; although you may be dating one of the drivers, that doesn’t mean you’ll be favoring him.

Still, you’re not exactly ignoring Charles either. Spending time with him is easier, you can spot his ticks and the invisible signs that he’s losing his patience better than anyone else. That’s the benefit of loving him, you suppose, it gives you the ability to read his mind without needing something as exaggerated as telepathy.

You can see this right now, actually. This one Sky Sports interviewer has been hounding Charles for a good long while now. Charles has attempted to walk away several times, but the guy can’t take a hint and actually started following him, camera guys running in pursuit. Charles’ grin is starting to slip, and his eyes have long since stopped looking happy.

Carlos is still doing fine, so you bid him a hasty goodbye and turn back towards Charles before anything too terrible can happen. As you’re nearing your boyfriend, though, you hear the interviewer pushing Charles more than he should in a simple moment for the media.

In fact, the guy’s getting physical, which is the one thing that certainly should not happen in an interview. Unable to avoid Charles’ attempts to end the prolonged interview any longer, the other man has run up in front of him, actually grabbing onto Charles’ arms to stop him in his tracks.

Charles looks furious, but you are so far beyond that. You appear right behind Charles, stepping in between the two men as quickly as you can. Judging by the fright that cascades across the interviewer’s face, your expression reflects exactly what you’re feeling right now, and that is not a good thing for him.

“I think my eyes must be deceiving me,” you begin slowly, “because it looked to me like you just put hands on my driver. That would be such a monumentally stupid thing to do, so surely something else must be going on. You must have enough fluff in your head to know that laying even a finger on my driver would be a colossal mistake. I know you’re not doing that. I know you’re not. Right?”

The interviewer visibly blanches. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not– I wouldn’t–”

Your smile is sinister but oh so perfect. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. This interview is over now, right? You were just talking about how Charles has continued to prove himself a capable driver despite setbacks out of his control?”

The interviewer audibly gulps. “Yeah, that. A lot of that.”

“Wonderful,” you grin, “I’ll just stay right here then, to make sure you’re staying on track.”

You take a few steps back for propriety’s sake, but the interviewer doesn’t look like he’ll be trying anything again. You’ve properly frightened him, which feels quite good, actually. Perhaps you should do this more often.

Charles certainly looks like he’s a fan of this. He’s beaming ear to ear, which is certainly a change from the glower that had been on his face only moments before. He’s supposed to be focused on wrapping up this sham of an interview, but he can’t seem to focus for longer than a second without turning around to look at you again. You’ll really have to get after him about trying not to be conspicuous, but you’re feeling pleased with yourself at the moment, so you don’t have the heart for it. Maybe later. Maybe never.

The interviewer shudders. “She terrifies me.”

Charles grins after you, somewhat in a haze. “I know, that’s why I’m so glad she’s my girlfriend.”

Your jaw drops as you realize what he’s said. “Charles!”

Charles’ eyes immediately go wide. “I didn’t– she’s not– shit!”

The public reaction to this is, as expected, insane. For the most part, though, it’s very positive. The fans are glad to see you defending their driver, and thousands of people have voiced their support online for how clearly infatuated Charles is with you. The idea that your bosses would try to split up the two of you is horrible to them, and it’s horrible to you, too.

It’s a good thing, then, that the higher-ups at Scuderia Ferrari would much rather prioritize the future of their drivers and public relations experts than try to cut off this relationship. Vasseur gives you the okay by the next race, and actually adds in some comment about how he’s been wondering if Charles would ever get up the nerve to ask for your number. It appears that the two of you may not have been as expert at hiding your relationship as you thought.

That was your greatest fear, that you would lose your job over this, and now that the danger has passed, you feel an immense wave of relief crest over you. You can keep the life you’d always wanted, and you can continue having Charles be such a main part of it, too. This is exactly what you’d hoped for in your wildest dreams, but your eyes are open now, and full of delight.

Charles is thrilled, too. He immediately rushes to his Instagram to post his favorite photos of you, something he fondly tells you later was a long time coming. The rest of the drivers absolutely destroy him in the comments for being, quote, ‘the biggest simp on the entire planet,’ according to Pierre Gasly, but you don’t think Charles cares at all. He’s got you, that’s what matters most.

And, to make up for the whole debacle, he gets you roses. Ferrari red. He’s a terrible flirt and utterly unstoppable when it comes to winning you over. Shame he’s able to do it every time. It’s almost as if you could never hold a grudge against him for longer than a second. Still, the groveling does him good, and soon enough he’s got a monopoly over your smiles just like before.

So, when the next race rolls around, you’re able to stroll into the paddock holding the hand of your boyfriend. It is not half as terrifying as you’d thought. In fact, it’s kind of extraordinary. Just like him.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 charles #f1 charles imagines #f1 charles x reader #f1 charles oneshot

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nukaberries · 2 years

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Hey, could I have some reactions to the male companions *coughValentinecough* reactions to seeing a female Sole Survivor outside of their radiation suits for the first time?

This is actually a really cool idea!! and I'm loving the appreciation that Nick's getting right now (Bethesda make him romanceable NOW)

Male Companions React to Seeing Sole Outside Her Radiation Suit

(Includes: Danse, Deacon, Hancock, MacCready, Nick and Preston)

Paladin Danse He can relate to always wearing a suit that hides most of his appearance. However, Sole has seen Danse out of his power armour a fair few times while they've been travelling together, he's never seen Sole in anything but her radiation suit. He won't say anything at first, wanting to keep their relationship strictly professional, but Sole may catch him staring for a little too long from time to time, before snapping out of it and pretending nothing had happened.

Deacon He'd definitely already made his guesses on what Sole looks like outside of the suit. His personal favourite theory - that Glory and Tom got sick of hearing about - was that Sole had six heads and fourteen arms coming out of her stomach. Still, he can't deny that he's somewhat taken aback when Sole eventually does take her radiation suit off. He'll make a comment on how he's relieved she has a normal amount of limbs, to which he'll refuse to elaborate on. If they're in Railroad HQ, Glory will definitely smack him across the head.

Hancock While he never would've openly admitted, despite a few passing comments about Sole's 'interesting get up', Hancock was so curious about what Sole actually looked like under her suit. He would've never outright asked though, not wanting to come off as weird. When Sole does take her suit off around him, depending on how close they are, Hancock might mention how he prefers them without the suit. He won't want to make Sole feel uncomfortable though, especially if they're not very close, so he'll leave it at that.

MacCready He has no idea why Sole insists on wearing her radiation suit everywhere. The Glowing Sea, sure. Boston Commons, maybe. But Diamond City? If MacCready ever brings up Sole's suit, it'll be more about how he doesn't understand why they wear it everywhere. When Sole finally takes off her suit in his presence, he's initially just relieved it doesn't look like he's travelling the Commonwealth with an alien, then he realises how beautiful Sole actually is. It makes travelling with her afterwards a little more awkward - for him - often finding himself quite flustered around her. He just hopes that Sole hasn't caught on yet, or that she ever will.

Nick Valentine With his own get up being rather unconventional - how often do you see a synth detective? - Nick actually appreciates that Sole only ever goes around in a radiation suit. It somehow balances out how unusual they both appear alone and makes him feel just a little less abnormal. Admittedly, he is quite curious as to what Sole actually looks like, but he'd never outright ask or make her feel like she had to show him. When Sole does take her suit off, he's pleasantly surprised, but he won't mention it, wanting to avoid making her uncomfortable, even if he does think Sole's a sight for sore eyes. Whether Sole decides to keep the suit off or she puts it back on right after, Nick won't mind either way, he's just happy to have the company.

Preston Garvey When Preston first met Sole outside the Museum of Freedom, he was almost dead certain she was an alien, seeing her take down all those raiders in her radiation suit. He's only ever mentioned Sole's choice in clothing a few times, mainly wondering how she got into that power armour when she took on the Deathclaw. He'd never actually ask Sole to take her suit off, worrying she might not feel comfortable enough to, so when she finally does, he's relieved that she trusts him enough to take it off around him. Sure, her beauty is a bonus, but he decides to keep that part to himself for now.

#i tried to write extra for nick #but i think i wrote too much for mac by default #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout headcanons #fallout imagines #fallout x reader #paladin danse #fallout deacon #fallout hancock #john hancock #maccready #rj maccready #nick valentine #preston garvey

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rockmiyabideusexmachina · 19 days

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2024 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest - Category 1 Results!

Sorry for the delay, but without further ado, here come this year's wonderful creations and our winners. Thank you all for your patience! Due to both the number of entries and the amount of reference images I'll be attaching here, I will have to make a separate post for the humor (Cat. 2) results. Please check that out here as well, after I post this! All winners will be contacted shortly.

Take a walk through the newly opened wing of the Kattleox Art Museum to see all this year's fabulous entries after the break...

CATEGORY 1 (Talent): Pallette Pastiche

The talent category this year focused on creating a parody or imitation of a famous work of art by using Mega Man characters in the place of what was originally drawn. Didn't have to be a well-known famous piece, but still had to reference some piece of art, regardless. And you all certainly made both Ms. Museum Curator and myself proud! It was very hard to choose placement, let alone who would make the Top 3. Plenty of fantastic character choices to match the vibe of the original pieces. For the full gallery of pics, click here. Links to each individual full size image is after each entrant's name as well. 1.) @sylviidaee [Pic] (*175 USD Prize Winner!)

Sylviidaee's reference was Michelangelo's Renaissance piece, "The Creation of Adam."

The shading and detail in your painting efforts for this piece are remarkable! Flawlessly fitting in each Robot Master, along with Blues and Roll, to represent the angels, worked out great. This pic deserves to be a featured museum piece, with replicas hanging in the homes of every Megaman fan!

2.) @purplerubyred [Pic] (*$100 USD Prize Winner!)

Ruby's reference was the cover of the Capcom Design Works artbook, by Kinu Nishimura.

Just even attempting to replicate the sheer amount of characters in this piece had to be an enormous undertaking, and I commend you for spending part of your August month of Elec Man love crafting this! There is so much to take in with this piece, with all the various versions of Elec Man and his related family. From background locations like MaHa Ichiban to the super great white angel/devil chip artwork on the railcar window, there are tons of little cameos to catch as you look across this art. Wonderful job!

3.) @DWN-059 [Pic] (*$75 USD Prize Winner!)

Beebs' reference was Rococo artist Jean-Honoré Fragonard's "The Swing."

While the lush forested background draws my attention for it's whimsical beauty, and huge amount of detail, I loved the little touches you brought to make this have a Mega Man feel. Such as the Guts Man and Anko statues to replace the angels, and adding the cute 'lil Friender. While Planty can't kick off his boots, the Plant Barrier petals were a perfect replacement for the shoe. Beautifully and accurately painted! _____________________________

And the rest of our amazing entrants, in alphabetical order by alias:

ArtisIan [Pic]

ArtisIan's reference was Grant Wood's "American Gothic."

Nothing more 'gothic' than a guy obsessed with skulls, building dark, brooding, black-clad robots, owning a homely Skull Castle with tall walls and large windows, am I right? Bass with the daughter's glare is actually rather fitting here, as well! XD Now, if Wily always carried around that pitchfork, wouldn't he be able to defeat Mega Man a lot easier, on account of sharp points?

@aw-colorcat [Pic]

AW-Colorcat's reference was a piece by seafh that was used as a popular Youtube BG image back in the 2010s for the Nightcore (sped up version/remix) version of the song "Angel with a Shotgun."

The bullet holes through the single wing sure makes it look like Mega Man has gone *pew pew pew* through it. But I think an angel with an all-powerful Metal Blade could be a little more deadly accurate.

@digitallyfanged [Pic]

Tabby's reference was Auguste Rodin's sculpture, "The Thinker." (To which, somewhere out there, Sigma Posting is ready to dub it "The Sig-ker.")

Contemplating his status as the most advanced Reploid of his time, his next strategic action against the Maverick Hunters, or how to change/destroy the world? Sigma certainly could be looked at as someone who could be rather philosophical and get deep in thought. And wouldn't be afraid to show off artwork of himself in his fortress. Hatching detail is nice, and helps give that statuesque, worn and chiseled feel.

Ivo [Pic]

Ivo's reference was Impressionist Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida's, "Italian Girl with Flowers."

Fantastic job at replicating the paint on canvas look, I truly can't tell if this is just a digital filter or if you physically painted it! Extending the green curls of hair outside of his helmet helped mimic the girl's original hairstyle even more. Really pretty, and his color pops nicely against the smaller flowers he's enjoying!

JazzmanZ [Pic]

JazzmanZ's reference was Roy Lichtenstein's Pop art painting, "Stepping Out."

Steppin' out to fight Doc Wily tonight! Honestly amused at how just a few little line alterations were needed to easily transform this couple into Rock and Roll. Like the little nose bridge line above his eye easily morphing into the peak of Mega Man's helmet. Excellent eye for parody in choosing this. No Roll, I didn't mean anything by that...

@nightopianfoxgirl [Pic]

NightopianFoxGirl's reference was "Circe Invidiosa," from Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood artist John William Waterhouse.

Another brilliant choice in characters having Iris represent Circe, who was known for turning her enemies into animals. And having the Cybeast duo of Greiga and Faltzer as the sea monster beneath her connects to the allegory of her role in the Beast anime with the Synchronizer, Trill. She too probably wants to poison/destroy the beasts, and can be seen as a bit of a tragic figure herself.

@puyonlilah [Pic]

Puyonlilah's reference was the Romanticism era painting "Ophelia," by Sir John Everett Millais.

Yet another tragic take, with the X version of Iris filling the role of Ophelia from Shakespeare's Hamlet, who is seen singing before she drowns herself in the river. Forgive her Zero, she just wanted to live in a world where only Reploids exist! You certainly portrayed the grief and emotional stress on Iris' face nicely, as well as the effect of her barely keeping afloat, with the water ripples.

@vogler-art [Pic]

Ryan's reference was Romanticist artist Caspar David Friedrich's painting, "Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog."

In a world covered by endless water, there's bound to be days of endless fog affecting your sightline, aren't there? Very nice contrast of light and dark in your colors. There's something that just feels so fitting for Mega Man to be looking out from on high, to give a sense of adventure, venturing into the unknown, or even alluding to X looking off the cliff during X1's ending. How long will he keep on fighting? Maybe only the buster on his hand knows for sure...

Tori Campan [Pic]

Tori's reference was Leonardo Da Vinci's famous Renaissance painting, "The Mona Lisa."

Miss Tori got the most important thing right in her parody by making sure The Rolla Lisa had no eyebrows, because those have disappeared from the painting over time. Roll's green bow stands out in her hair even more with the beautiful green forest in the background. Wonderful job getting her pose and that slight, mischievous smile on her face to match the original!

Thank you to everyone again who participated this year! Each artwork was fantastic!

#Rockman #Megaman #Mega Man #Rock Miyabi's 2024 Megaman Summer Fanart Contest #Fanart Contest

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hughiecampbelle · 4 months

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Succession Preference: Baby Roy Coming Out

Requested: hiya! i was wondering if you could do some Roy sibling headcanons regarding them realizing they are lgbtq+/being in their first (openly) lgbtq+ relationship :3 this blog gives me so much joy, thank you for all that you do!! 💚💚💚 - anon

Requested: Headcanon/fic request :) What if baby Roy came out to their siblings as part of the lgbt+ community? How do you think they would react? Would they be comforting or confused? Especially since most are involved in a conservative news conglomerate. - anon

Requested: Hi! i love your baby roy fics❤️ could i requests baby roy coming out as queer to the sibs? i think it would be so interesting to know their reactions and how logan may have influenced those. thank you so much🫶🫶 - anon

Requested: ooooh! what if baby Roy was queer in some way? - anon

A/N: Happy pride month, my loves!!! These were all requests from months ago, I'm so sorry it took me this long!!! I never actually came out to my family. I've told friends and (accidentally) a few cousins lol, just not my mom/grandparents/etc. It just feels like it's my business and not anyone else's. Still, I am absolutely in love with this idea! I kept things pretty general so that a larger amount of people could relate rather than focused solely on a single gender/sexuality specifically! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Connor doesn't really understand what you mean. Connor is much older than you and the rest of your siblings. He was brought up in a different time. He doesn't really understand beyond the basics. Still, you're his baby. He wants to know everything about you, he wants there to be no secrets between you. So, that means doing lots of Googling and ending up on some sketchy, inappropriate websites. The next time he sees you, and you're able to get a moment alone, he pulls out his list of questions he has for you. Some things you can explain, others you have to figure out before you get back to him. You're still new to all of this. None of you were introduced to relationships and people and expressions that were different than heterosexual and cisgender. You still have a lot of questions and feelings and self-doubts that you have to work through before you can figure out these obscure references your brother has found on the internet. He's so proud of you, that he makes clear, even if he is a little confused. He gets you a little flag and hangs his own outside of his home. No one ever visits him besides you, so you're the only one who sees it. He wants to go to your local Pride and parade you around. Connor loves you, you're his baby. Regardless of your differences, he will always be there for you. Always.

Kendall thinks you're doing this for attention. That all of this is a phase you'll grow out of and realize you were wrong about. You don't officially come out to him. You know better. It's Connor who tells him when you start dressing differently/inviting potential partners over who are more than just friends. Kendall can't wrap his head around it. He doesn't understand that you were born this way, this is who you've always been, and not just a decision you made one day. He doesn't really get that being lgbtq+ isn't a choice. As far as he can understand, you're doing this to get (the wrong kind of) attention from Logan. That you want to be different and act out and so you're doing this. It doesn't matter that you're a rational adult just coming to terms with who you are, he still sees you as an irrational little kid. Connor tries to help by explaining the different colors in the flag/s, but that just makes him more confused and when he's confused he gets angry. When you fight, because when do the Roy siblings not fight, it's the first thing he brings up as a means of saying you're not as adult as you think you are if you're going to live your life like this. It's like a slap to the face every time. When they were married, Rava tried to get him to understand this isn't what he thinks it is, but nothing and no one can get through to him. He is your Mini Logan. There's no getting through to him about the matter.

Shiv is trying to be as comforting as possible. You were a teenager when you came out to her. You were full of so many confusing feelings, feeling you couldn't vocalize to anyone until it just sort of came out. Luckily, it was Shiv you said it to and not Kendall or your father. You were so upset, distressed, lost, she figured comforting you would be first and then addressing what you said. Shiv wasn't bothered by what you had said, who you said you were. She knew plenty of lgbtg+ people in college. She even went to a few gay clubs just to party. Still, she was of the mind that you were maybe a little too young to really know what those words meant. She said this, which, in the moment, broke your heart. Your sister, the person you went to when you were having friendship problems and disagreement with your father, truly believed you were too young to have figured this out about yourself. For so many years you thought there was something wrong with you, and you finally had words to describe it, and this is all she had to say? Of course, as the years go on, and you're more open about who you are in this family, she recognizes she might have been wrong. She would never admit to that, of course. She'll always be the first person you came out to. It's not a great story to have, but the hurt lessens as time goes on and you realize, though you have always known, your family isn't caught up with the times. They can say they're progressive, but it's in name only.

The first thing Roman does is list off as many crude jokes as he can. One after the other, a few of them with slurs, until he's gotten it all out of his system. Truthfully, he doesn't really care what you do or who you do as long as it's not in front of him. He's been ridiculed by Logan, and your siblings, about his sexuality (or lack thereof) that he can't understand why you're willingly telling him this thing about you that will make you different. In his mind, you're inviting the ridicule and blame that'll come from your father (and Kendall). Why would you admit to this? Why can't you just keep it to yourself? Why can't other people just keep these kinds of things to themselves? He's not against it. He's had his fair share of crushes on all types of people. But he thinks that it's a bit much when you start dressing differently or inviting partners to events/holidays. You're making yourself a target for hate and anger and confusion. He's spent his whole life trying to shield himself from those kinds of emotions because it can lead to hurt and abuse. In his mind, you coming out just invites these feelings and issues, leaving you vulnerable. He cringes every time you tell someone new because he fears it'll lead to blame and ridicule. He doesn't understand why you have to be so open about this when, for decades, people like you lived in secret? What's so hard about keeping it a secret? It's safer that way.

#headacanon #preference #Connor roy #Connor roy x reader #Connor roy preference #Kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #Kendall roy preference #shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy preference #roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy preference #succession #succession x reader #succession preference

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twainxavier · 3 months

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Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @embroiderling and @samsalami66 thank you both! 😻

So, this is Dead Boy Detectives related (of course it is 🤣👌) and is from an upcoming Catwin Academic Rivals Dark Academia AU fic (so many buzz words 👀) Hope you like it! 🔎💀👻😻👑

TW: Homophobic slurs, bullying, threatening language

When it came back to him, he took a steadying breath, and gave a nod. He watched as Thomas’ feet led the way to the door, and then kept on walking as he followed. Edwin kept his head down all the way back to his old flat. The entire way there he couldn't help but wonder how on earth the two of them were going to move everything he had from one room to the other. It wasn't a huge amount, but it was still probably a lot, and he really didn't want to be in that place any longer than he had to be. He cursed his shaking hand as he raised his key to the lock on the flat door. He could hear voices behind the door, and he just had to hope that it wasn't Simon and any of his friends. He should have known any luck he had had long since ran out by now. “Oh look! The pussy is back! Where have you been, pussy?” a voice Edwin now recognised as Richie's rang out from the other end of the flat. He almost just collapsed on the spot, but then he felt Thomas’ presence behind him. With a breath he forced himself to stay standing and ignore the fear if just so he would not seem as weak as he felt. Instead he just went straight to his door and unlocked it. But before he managed to slip inside, he heard Thomas' voice. “Pussy. Interesting choice of word. I don't see any cats around here, just a bunch of bitches.” Edwin froze on the spot, shocked that Thomas would even try to stand up to these people. He finally looked up at his face again, but all he got was a soft smile. “You go pack your room up. Got anything you want from the kitchen?” Thomas asked, voice light as if he hadn't just called Edwin's attackers bitches. Before he could even formulate a reply for Thomas, Simon's voice interrupted. “So the fag has a bodyguard now?” It was a snide remark, but it lacked the venom it had the previous night. Thomas didn't even look away from Edwin, nor did he drop the gentle smile, so Edwin decided to just follow suit in ignoring Simon and his friend and answered Thomas' question. “Yes, mainly my plates and utensils,” Edwin said, pointing out where to find those things whilst giving Thomas a box. He didn't want to go anywhere near that kitchen again, so Thomas offering to go for him was a blessing he wasn't going to ignore. “Perfect,” Thomas still smiled at him, but Edwin saw it drop the instant he turned towards the kitchen. “I am a friend, not a bodyguard, but what makes you ask that, hmm? You think he needs a bodyguard?” Edwin couldn't see Thomas' face any longer, but he could hear a coldness to his voice that he had never heard before. Just before he shut the door to his room, he heard his attackers backpedal fast in a chorus of murmured ‘no’s.

So there we go, just a hint of protective Thomas, and he's going to say a lot more unhinged things whilst they move Edwin out of this flat 👀

I'm gonna tag @pumpkinkingsalem @stardustloki @seiya-starsniper and @here-be-bec and anyone else who feels like joining in 😻 No pressure of course! Have fun with it!

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #the cat king #dbda #dead boy detective agency #catwin #dbd fanfic #last line challenge #last line tag

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

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Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus. - Part 3 A/N: I've got other WIPs and requests but Emo Brooding Morpheus and Gentle Warm Reader is a brainrot I welcomed a little too warmly

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [ENDING] [ALT. ENDING] || Sandman-inspired playlist

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

"Have you found them?"

Your voice was hardly audible over the sound of crashing waves and screaming seagulls. The wind kept tugging at your clothes, gnawing at your skin and soon you found yourself feeling cold. The warm sunrays, sporadically emerging from behind the grey clouds, were a pleasant relief as they gently brushed against your face. Spring never comes soon enough...

"What exactly do you mean?" Morpheus asked.

The reason why he accompanied you on your walk back home was a lovely secret - one that might be ruined the moment someone tries to learn it. To your satisfaction, he never questioned why you were walking on the sand and not the bricked boulevard, which would have been a lot more comfortable. Despite the sheer pleasure that it brought you, your choice of route was motivated by something more profane: the loneliness that you shared. Morpheus would never admit that himself, you could already tell but he needed to talk to someone as much as you did. In that moment he was about as human as an entity can get and yet he was never going to realize that; when people recognize each other's loneliness as their own they form a connection a little too deep to be captured by a language and far too strange for the mundane world.

"Your belongings, naturally. The jewel, the pouch..." you counted as you recalled the wonderful and strange trinkets he had with him that day, "the creepy mask," you added as your face involuntarily turned into a grimace thinking about the unnerving bone contraption he wore. "Father seemed very content with his, well, theft."

Morpheus suddenly stopped. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and those cold, blue eyes stared into yours with astonishing intensity. The cold wind pulled at his hair as it brushed against his forehead. Looking at his face, you could see the small moves of his jaw as he clenched its muscles.

"Do you know anything of them?"

His voice didn't waver and considering his alarmed appearance, it was an impressive feat. The longer you admired his otherworldly composure the more you grew convinced that you had misinterpreted it the first time you had seen him: what painted his expression blank was not the lack of emotions behind it but rather a certain reluctance in feeling sensations that were already there. Such a disconnect was strangely human for a king of dreams, not to mention horribly forlorn. If one desires no relation to their feelings, how could one ever relate to another being?

"I'm afraid I don't," you answered in a mild tone. "I've only heard rumours among the manor staff as though your gem had been stolen by my father's mistress. But, unfortunately, I cannot speak for the reliability of that hearsay. Even if that were true, I haven't the foggiest where she's gone."

"What of the pouch and the helmet?" he coexed. It seemed as if the remnants of his hope long gone were being washed away with each wave that crashed against the white sand of Southend-on-sea.

"Hard to say," you said with a shrug. Digging your hands further into the pockets of your coat, you began walking again. "Perhaps they're locked away in the deepest dungeon underneath the mansion or maybe they were sold on the black market. In any case, I'm afraid I can't even try to inquire about that. My letters were never answered."

"You have written letters to your father?"

"No, not to Rodrick," you said quietly as you absentmindedly shook your head. There was another for whom your heart broke - someone who might never know the amount of love you once had for them. "I wrote to Alex. I know he hasn't been exactly kind to you but he's an exceptional boy. He will grow up to be a great man, I'm sure of that. Although, I'm afraid I shan't get to see that..."

Morpheus silently studied your somber expression as you looked at the faraway horizon. Somewhere there, where sky dipped his toes in the endless waters, you saw all the magnificent possibilities of Alex's future. A sad smile appeared on your face as if those fantasies made you both proud and completely heartbroken. For the second time, Morpheus began wondering why humans were capable of feeling such contradicting emotions at the same time.

A tear fell from your eye. It glistened in the afternoon sun with a myriad of colours as if misery could once be breathtaking. As the teardrop run down the curve of your cheek, Morpheus instinctively raised his hand but only slightly like some anxious thought at the back of his head prohibited him from moving his arm further. It was the very same hesitation that had decided about the fate of the world more than once.

He thought something you had told him all those years ago when you said you wished your brother never had died. Back then he didn't quite understand the difference - the small difference, a change of perspective - that made your choice different from your father's. But now, watching the glistening tear on your cheek, Morpheus felt a fraction of understanding due to nothing more but his selfishness: instead of wishing to brush away your tear, he wished you never had cried.

"I'm so sorry, I just miss him a lot," you whispered. A sniffle and a deep sigh left your lips. "Oh, only now do I realize my utter lack of manners," you resumed the conversation. With a frantic move of your hand, you brushed away the stray tear. You forced a gentle smile on your face and Morpheus grew angry, although he couldn't quite explain why. "You're a king, are you not? Should I not call you 'your majesty'?"

"There is no need for that." The cold tone of his voice never once revealed the silent affections he had pondered just before. "You are not one of my subjects."

"As you wish, Dream of the Endless. I may not know where to look for your belongings but I do have a burning suspicion that we will not find them among those cold sands and murky waters. As much as it pains me to say so, we should leave this lovely town as soon as we can."

"My affairs are not of your concern."

You stopped walking only to look at him. For a moment, your kind face stared into his eyes - they were such an exceptional shade of blue. Their cool hue was both haunting and dazzling, perhaps serving as an adequate showcase of their owner's nature. It was a wonderful thought that no other but Morpheus inspired the saying that 'eyes are the window to the soul'.

"I want them to be," you confessed before continuing to walk towards your house.

Morpheus couldn't follow your step. He wasn't sure what to make of your words or most of all - whether you actually meant them, at least in the same way he understood them. The longer he listened to the echo of your confession inside his head, the more the realized that only the reasonable part of him desired to dismiss your decision. Yes, deep inside Morpheus wanted you to be concerned with his affairs. Maybe one day, when he lets that intimate thought resound in his mind, he'll realize he wanted to be your concern.

Looking over your shoulder, you noticed that Dream hadn't moved from his spot. His dark attire was a startling contrast to the white sand under his feet and the greyish-blue water behind him. The cold wind kept nipping at his hair and clothes and yet his skin was just as pale, not a shade of red or purple revealed that he could be cold in that weather.

"The world is spinning, your majesty," you yelled over the crashing of waves and seagulls' calls. "We can't just stand on it."

___ Tagging people who were interested in a follow-up: @rosaren2498 @jessiboobdbdb @chantzmar @lexi-anastasia @bisexualunicronrunningloose

#dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus imagine #morpheus sandman #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus #the sandman fanfic #the sandman imagine #the sandman netflix #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman #the sandman x you #the sandman x reader

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quirkwizard · 9 months

Note

You haven't gotten a lot of Non Quirk questions in a while, so I wanted to send one that I think would be fun. What do you think would be the favorite anime/series of each 1-A Character? I know Tokoyami would be a Jujutsu Kaisen fan, but the rest I'm not sure.

Can I just say how much I enjoy questions like these? It's always really fun to get questions unrelated to Quirks, especially more light hearted, character focused questions like these. I appreciate you sending this in and encourage more non-Quirk related questions. That aside, I will expand this to include manga as well. There are some choices on here that I think are perfect, but I know that certain animes aren't the best adaptation.

Sato: Food Wars. Maybe Toriko if you want something more on brand with him. I would say more about it, but that would imply there is anything deeper to read into with Sato.

Koda: Pokémon. There really isn't anything complicated about this choice. Just a fun, lighthearted series with wonderous creatures under the main character's control.

Mineta: Without question, it's Kill La Kill. He's actually one of the few people who are able to read into it on a deeper level and what it's trying to say but nobody believes him.

Denki: I don't know, Seven Deadly Sins? Kaminari just seems like he would be the most basic, go with whatever's is the most popular kind of fan, never really commiting to anything for too long.

Tsuyu: I think she would be into cute and happy series. Something light and fun that puts a smile on your face and could enjoy with other people around. Think something like Spy x Family.

Sero: Maybe Steins' Gate? He's on the same level as Denki, but it's usually more along with critics are going with then general audiences and at least takes some time to think about it.

Ojiro: Pretty much any heavily technical fighting anime, like Hajime no Ippo, but has a special place in his heart for Dragon Ball Z. Who knew that a martial artist with a tail would hit a chord with Ojiro?

Hagakure: I think her being into Sailor Moon would make sense. Something fun and flashy. I could easily see her using her reflective powers to do the whole Moon Prisim Power thing.

Aoyama: I could see him being kind of anime snob, being more interested in really old animes like Revolutionary Girl Utena or Rose of Versailles. Just something really pretty looking for his Bishonen soul.

Mina: Again, another character like Denki, but instead of focusing on shonen, she's more into whatever is popular with rom coms or slice of life, like Don't Bully Me Nagatoro or Dress Up My Darling.

Jiro: I honestly see her being more pulled towards the soundtrack of an anime rather then it's content. Though I do think she'd be interested in Cowboy Bebop with it's general "cool" feeling to it.

Tokoyami: He certainly seems like the guy that would be into the whatever edgy anime flavor of the month. First Death Note, then Tokyo Ghoul, and most recently Jujutsu Kiasen.

Shoji: He'd be into the Berserk manga. Just one of that people that reads super mess up stuff and is one of the chilliest people around. The only time he gets angry is when you mention any of the adaptations.

Kirishima: His favorite would be Gurren Lagann and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. It's just too perfect. That being said, if you want to pick something more ongoing, I'd say Jojo's Bizarre Adventure for obvious reasons.

Uraraka: I think she'd be into One Piece. I'm not sure why exactly I picked that out, I just think that she would like it. Maybe it's the mix of good, light heart adventures, lots of action and heart renching movement that makes me think she'd like it.

Tenya: Pretty much anything related to Gundam. I could see him being into the mechanics of the robots and the amount of stragy involved in the fights. Out of all of them though, his favorite would be the objectively best Gundam series: G Gundam.

Bakugou: Bakugou is both sides of the deep Naruto fan coin. He's simultaneously the guy that's actually reading into it and understanding what's it's saying, but also the obnoxious dude bro that talks about it like it's the greatest manga ever without question.

Shoto: It was honestly really hard to think of anything for him. He just doesn't seem like the kind of that would be into it. I was tempted on Fire Force for a joke, but I like the choice of Fruits Basket better. I feel like the complications of family and bonds would speak to him.

Momo: I was tempted to go with Doctor Stone, but I had to go with Fullmetal Alchemist. She's definitely one of those people who slaves over all the little details and themes in whatever she is watch, her face glowing as she talks about Elric's character and journey.

Izuku: I really wanted to pick One Punch Man for obvious reasons, but I think he'd be more pulled towards Hunter x Hunter. I think he'd especially be interested in the power system that's one of the few in all of manga that doesn't have to do with whatever you're born with.

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ceilingfan5 · 11 months

Text

go around

@taznovembercelebration "super au" and "silly"

“Man,” Taako sighs, as quietly as possible. “This is the second time I’ve been a hostage this month.” He’s not tied up this time, at least, but he’s sitting in the back hallway of the bank and regretting his choice of errands today. The guy next to him nods.

“You too, huh?” He’s pretty, and goth, very serious-with-a-side-of-secretly-goofy, and Taako wants to crack him like a nut. Shame they’re busy waiting for the supervillain of the week to either get got or get his private island and fourteen pounds of gummy worms, or fucking whatever. “It’s ridiculous. They need to spend less money on making flashy superheroes and more on just–security, infrastructure, safety, you know, mental health initiatives-”

“Or maybe we need to break down and be supervillains ourselves.” Taako shrugs, with an I’m JOKING I PROMISE…unless? Air about him. He’s sick of it.

“Really?” Handsome asks, laughing a little.

“Really,” Taako says, still kind of joking, but also kind of not joking. “Taako can barely get his errands done when there’s no Captain Backwards Lightning Man in the way, you know? It’s enough to make a guy wanna destroy some well-placed props.”

Handsome laughs.

“You’re Taako, I take it?”

“In the flesh, skele-fellow. You?”

“Kravitz,” Kravitz says, and then, “Probably. If I’m going to be a villain, you don’t know that, and I’ll have to erase your memories, or something.”

“Or we could be a team,” Taako teases. “We could be the only ones who knew each other’s secret identities. You could come over for chicken alfredo, I could go to yours for game night, little bit of blackmail to keep things spicy-”

Kravitz laughs, and covers his mouth, but it must not be too loud, or maybe the gummy worm accords are going sour, because nothing comes of it except an embarrassing amount of affection from Taako.

“I wish I had a power worth doing anything drastic about,” he admits, looking at Taako for comiseration or approval or something else that might lead to romance.

“Yeah? Cha boi’s in the same boat, so keep paddling. Dumber supers have done worse.”

“Really? I mean- about your power, I remember, uh, Pickle Monster.”

“Who could forget.” Taako shakes his head solemnly. “Yeah, no, I can read minds, but only if it’s food related.”

“Seriously?” Kravitz grins. “I love specific powers, but that sort of thing drives me nuts in practice. Like- surely the universe could have been kinder?”

“Would it ever stoop so low?” Taako snorts. “No, seriously, try me.”

“Okay,” Kravitz says, screwing up his nose in the cutest stinking way Taako has ever seen. “What was my dinner last night?”

Taako looks him directly in the eye, feels that weird connection he gets with people sometimes, the sort of way that makes him sweaty and lonely. He steps right into Kravitz’s doorway, looks around his home, wonders if there’s more than meets the eye. Surely. It’s welcoming enough, maybe just because Kravitz is inviting him in, in this moment. Much less of a trespass than it usually is.

He watches the memory unfold, and feels fond over this dork, who looks so business goth put together on the outside.

“You air-fryered tater tot nachos,” Taako says, and Kravitz blinks, surprised, and Taako’s shunted right back out.

“Really? You really got that much?”

“Oh, honey-nugget, I got more than that, I’m just trying to-”

“How much do you get?”

Taako grimaces.

“Pretty much everything, especially if emotions are, uh, involved? You- uh. You poured frozen tater tots in the air fryer, dropped one on your bare foot and started bleeding, went to put a pokemon bandaid on it, and when it beeped for you to turn the food, and you tried to test one, because your timing was off because the package didn’t have air fryer instructions, you dropped it on your other bare foot and burnt it.”

Kravitz’s mouth drops open.

“Sorry?” Taako says, even sweatier. “You opened the door, kemosabe.”

“Right,” Kravitz says, with a conspicuous glance at his shiny boy shoes.

“I wasn’t trying to intrude,”

“No, I, get it, I, could have picked something else.” Kravitz clears his throat and loosens his black-on-black rose patterned tie. “Mine isn’t nearly as interesting.”

“Seriously?” Taako snorts. “Maybe you have an eight foot vertical leap, or your snot is acid.”

“Is acid snot better than mind reading?”

“Dog, everything’s better than mind reading, do you know how fucking loud the world is all the goddamn time?”

“Touché.” Kravitz glances at the noise from the bank lobby, but nothing seems to come of it. He shifts his feet, looking at them again. “I mean, they were good tater tots.”

“Sometimes food that hurts fucks harder.”

“So true?” Kravitz laughs. “I wish I had super healing, or super-not-being-a-dumbass, but, you know,”

“Man, if I was super-not-a-dumbass, I really could take over the world. Watch out, Townsville! Pew pew!”

Kravitz looks at him with some kind of goopy eye disease that could be confused for fondness, if you were stupid, like Taako.

“I just- so, see, I have this knife?”

“Yeah?” Taako looks him over for said knife, which he does not manage to produce. “Taken, was it?”

“Mhm,” Kravitz sighs, glancing at the lobby again. Some loud discussion is going on, between the somebody of police and TToday’s Evil Baddoer. “I can cut these little rifts with it, nothing huge, because it’s just a big fancy pocket knife, but I can store stuff in there, which is kind of neat. One time I climbed through and found myself somewhere else, but it was really difficult, on account of the small blade and all.”

“Yeah?” Taako’s heart pounds. “Seriously? Does it have to be the one knife?”

Kravitz pauses, and then turns to him directly.

“I’ve only done it with the one knife, I guess. And a grapefruit spoon.”

“What if-”

“Oh my god.”

“Hear me out-”

“Oh my god.”

Taako casts about for literally any kind of blade, fucking at all. There’s a letter opener that looks like a sword on the Mortgage Guy’s desk, and Taako checks out Super Badguy in the lobby, and then slowly, painfully, starts sneaking his way toward it. Kravitz chews his fingernails behind him, and truly fourteen thousand ice ages later, Taako returns, and hams up presenting the letter opener to Kravitz.

Kravitz stares at it, and hestiates.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“It doesn’t work and you’re mad at me,” Kravitz admits, painfully honest.

“What if it does work?”

“I’d take you out for dinner,” Kravitz admits, fully focused on the silver blade.

“What kind?”

“Any sort of food you’d like?” And Taako steps into his mind one more time, slips in through the door, and finds himself in a nice restaurant across from Kravitz in a cute dark purple button up, slut that he is, one button open, just a hint, just a peek, and they kiss over the dessert, which costs way too much for crème brûlée, but Taako won’t tell him that, no sir.

And he zhoops right back out.

“You have to do it,” he says, a little breathless. Kravitz looks at him, alarmed, and back at the letter opener, whcih he finally takes. He moves it around in the air, getting a feel for it, and then SWIPES–

And a flickering, dark tear in reality appears. Kravitz covers a gasp, Taako doesn’t, and certainly they’ll be spotted soon, but Kravitz tears and rips and hacks into the rip in the universe, and once he gets it big enough, tears at it with his hands, and then gets a knee in there, and there’s a sickening non-sound as it widens ever so slowly, achingly, and Taako watches with deep, embarrassing affection as Kravitz manages to clamber through, looking like an absolute idiot, and turns and reaches an arm out for Taako.

Fucking ROMANCE.

“I’ve, gotta-”

“We’ll go around and help from the other side, Taako,” Kravitz promises. “It’ll just be way easier if I get literally anything sharper.”

“Oh,” Taako says, relieved. And he jumps into Kravitz’s arms, because he has the chance, and it’d be more embarrassing if he didn’t take it.

Any kisses between the jumping and the rescuing are off the record, and also private. So there.

[id: gameboard with 15 spaces, 1-6 taken up with stickers of a cat, fish, "good worker", door, dragon, and "kapow"]

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #taz balance #taz nc #taz november celebration #fan5fics #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #moving right along

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ritcchamadayo · 1 year

Note

Please, Part 3 of Punk Jade, you're giving me more of a reason to simp for this man-

I will honestly GLADLY turn into a Jade-fic blog i am so far gone when it comes to this man... Sorry for the wait guys! Uni had me in a chokehold (again) but LETS GET BACK TO SIMPING

A Look Into The Past (Pt. 3)

Jade Leech x Reader ;

On a rare day off, Jade found himself pondering Professor Crewel's fashion tips when it came to styling his piercings but couldn't decide for himself. Who else to ask for opinions other than you?

(we're back again folks!! again thank you so much for the love on this fic!! I'll be considering posting this on Ao3 as a full series after this one XD THANK YOU!!!)

Reader is a Sophomore in this fic, just like the twins!

Read Part 1 Here! Read Part 2 Here!

"U-Um, so that's what you called me out for?" "Yes, exactly."

When Jade had contacted you saying that there was a "disaster", you certainly didn't expect the disaster to be the eel-mer's own wardrobe. You were surprised at the amount of clothes he had, but a few of them are quite... distasteful, to say the least.

When Jade wore his ear piercings to school the other time, he was stopped by none other but Professor Crewel and was given an earful about how to dress and act when wearing such flashy accessories. Granted, they were at school so it can't be helped, but Crewel made sure to make Jade remember his fashion tips for days off like today.

"Did Floyd get you this?" You hold up a purple shirt with a drawing of an eel, and big blocky text saying "Mentally Eel". You grimaced at how tacky the shirt was. "Ah, yes he did. Floyd has the habit of collecting anything eel-related in the surface world, you see."

You had to stifle a laugh at the thought. "Ah, that's where he got those eel keychains."

You rummaged through Jade's wardrobe (with permission, of course) and pulled out most of his clothes, gently putting them down and organizing them by type. There were a few normal button-up shirts, a pair of pajamas, Jade's hiking clothes and equipment, and let's not forget the winter clothes he wore on his trip to Harveston. (You wonder why he wore shorts AND leggings with his hiking wear, but you're not gonna question it.)

"What did Crewel say about them anyway? And uh, why me out of all people? I'm pretty sure someone like Vil or Cater could give you much better insight?" You ask. Jade tilts his head, pondering for a second. "Why, I suppose it's because you were the first person to pop up in my mind. I couldn't hope to bother our seniors, after all. Besides, your sense of fashion is quite good."

Bullshit reasoning. Or so you say, but you feel your ears heat up from the thought of Jade thinking of you. "Oh. I-I see." Jade wasn't lying when he said you had a good sense of fashion though, your choice of outfits on days off were always endearing to him. You were wearing a blouse paired with black overalls today, which looked both comfortable and fashionable at the same time.

"What did Crewel say?" "Hm... He said that a relaxed, mature look would suit for a lesser amount of accessories, to put it simply. Either that, or something simpler to accentuate the accessories if we were to wear more amounts."

Perhaps it's time for a little fashion show, then?

You quickly look around and pull out a few pieces of clothing- A pair of white pants and bright blue and yellow short sleeved shirt, giving off a bit of a tropical vibe. Jade took the clothes gratefully, putting them on the bed for him to change into.

"Oh? Are you perhaps going to watch me change, or~?" "I-I'M NOT! I'M LOOKING AWAY!!!" Your face shone red, quickly turning around to look at the door instead. Jade chuckled quietly, unbuttoning his shirt and taking them off. You can clearly hear the sound of him unzipping his pants as well, making you wipe your sweat off your forehead. (there's the urge to peek, but you better not.)

"Alright, I've finished changing. What do you think?"

You nervously turn around, and closely examined Jade in your chosen clothes. "It looks pretty good! I think a bit of a messier look would look nice with lots of accessories on your ears, like if you unbuttoned a few from the top of your shirt."

Jade complies, messing up his hair slightly and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his collarbone, and you feel yourself regretting your words.

"I quite agree. The colors of the shirt pop with the addition of the white pants, and the silvers of the metal can be clearly seen."

"A-Ah, yeah!" (remember to look respectfully, dear) "Can you lean down for a sec?" Jade kneels down to your level sitting on the floor, and you take out a few of his accessories from the little wooden box he kept neatly inside his wardrobe. You picked up a few unused piercings and tried mixing and matching them on his ears, laughing when Jade comments your fussing over his ears tickles quite a bit.

"But it's not really your style, honestly... A flashy look like this kinda fits Floyd more." You comment, but deep down you think it wasn't a bad change of pace to see Jade in something other than buttoned-up shirts and suits. Turning back to the clothes pile, you pick out another set of clothes- this time, it was a comfy white turtleneck with black dress pants. You also found a brown trench coat in the depths of his wardrobe, which Jade said his parents' acquaintances gifted him for his birthday and he didn't know how to style it.

You looked back to the door once again as he changes out of the clothes, putting the new set on quickly and gracefully. "Oh, this definitely feels much more my style."

You turned around to see for yourself, and your eyes shone excitedly seeing him in the new getup. "Oh! Definitely!!" You cheered, giggling while at it. "You surprisingly suit the more mature-but-comfortable look, Jade." The eel-mer chuckles, sitting back down on the floor. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so. What about the accessory choices, then?"

"Hmm... Crewel said that less is better in this getup, so just a little..." Picking up a few ring shaped ones, you carefully put a few piercings on Jade's ears- a simple look, consisting of the double helix on top of his ears and a couple of silver studs along his lobes.

"There! Well it isn't exactly a little either, but..."

Jade looked at the mirror in his room, a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that is neither shady, plotting, or emotionless- a genuinely happy smile. "My my, I was correct in assuming you had good taste in fashion. I'm rather confident in this look, actually. It's comfortable enough for me to move in, and yet still maintaining the fashionable aura from the coat."

You had a grin on your face, proud of your handiwork. "All thanks to you being a good model! And for having a variety of clothes I can choose from, haha."

You had quickly put the rest of his clothes back into his wardrobe after making a few other suggestions, and dusted yourself off as you stood up. "I should probably get going now, I wouldn't want to invade for too long." You say, stretching your arms and getting ready to get back to your dorm. You open the door, stepping out from his neat room.

"Ah, before that." Jade called out, following you outside. He quickly (and rather smoothly) took your hand in his, closing and locking up his room. "Since we're already in decent clothes, what do you say I take you on a small trip around Sage's Island? Perhaps we can stop by and grab some food. My treat of course, after you've oh-so graciously helped me."

Your cheeks heat up, and you feel your gaze lowering to stare at the floor instead of the man in front of you.

"...Is this your way of asking me out?" "Perhaps. Do you accept?"

You couldn't bring yourself to decline his offer. (Your empty stomach also couldn't.)

"S-sure then. I'd love to, Jade."

"Splendid. It's a date, then."

#✨RitcchanWrites #✨TwistedRitchuland #✨RitcchanDreams #✨ritcchama's crazy simpery #UUHGGHHHHH HES SO HOT #ITS BEEN WEEKS AND IM STILL NOT OVER IT #SIR YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASE #twisted wonderland #twst #jade leech #twisted wonderland imagines #octavinelle #twst jade #jade leech x reader #jade x reader

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stagefoureddiediaz · 5 months

Note

I was reading your tags on the Eddie and Catholicism post you made and 😘. I have been thinking about that bts of Marisol and Chris and how she is dressed so much like Eddie. Such a clear difference from how she has appeared so far. And your thought of her being the physical representation of religion and Eddie’s feelings around them. He has to let go of a part of himself in order to move forward in his journey. I just am 🤯

Hey Nonnie

Thank You 💜💜💜

I too have been musing on that bts of Marisol and Chris - an how it reads very much like she's babysitting him once again (the whole thing is just screaming at me that she's a defacto Carla at this point!!)

They really have set her up as a physical representation of catholicism - especially in Eddie mind - with the virgin Mary visual we got last episode - the show did not want to be subtle! I am here for it - I'm hoping its actually going to be a bit of a fun slightly silly arc for Eddie rather than the darker more intense arcs of pervious seasons - and so far everything is indicating that to be the case - a confused slightly stupid Eddie bumbling along and figuring it out as he goes is a fun contrast that I'm looking forward to getting to see - because he is my blorbo and he is a bit of a dumbass when it comes to himself - man is a master of not peeping over the walls he has built until forced - so comedy forcing him to look would be wonderful!

The fact they have kind of dressed her like Eddie is an interesting one - because she's kind of dressed more like Athena than Eddie to be honest - Eddie doesn't wear balck and khaki all that often- Athena however wears black boots, khaki green trousers and black tops a. Lot! In fact I think if I went and did a count over her costumes in relation to Eddies she would be far far higher inn the khaki wearing department in relation to other colours!

That to me is where the interest lies - because Eddie and Athena have been paralleled a fair amount - especially from a costuming perspective. So the choice to put her in a costume that echos that parallel is a really interesting one to me - especially if we go back to season 1 Athena - an Athena who was dealing with the fall out from Michaels decision to come out of the closet he'd been kept in his whole life - and when they have been making very pointed comments about closets and armoires and moving too fast .

The potential of a parallel of having a partner who is in the closet whilst being in a relationship with you is a super interesting one to me - it speaks volumes for where things could be headed - especially as May and Harry ended up in the middle of that season 1 arc - and we have Christopher going through his own thing in relation to girls and dating and also now having scenes with Marisol.

I may well be drawing a parallel too far with this, however the rest of my reads on how they've dressed her thus far (especially considering they've given her a glow up on s6 Marisol!!) have been pretty close to the mark. So I'm putting it out into the world and we'll see how things play out!

#kym answers things #nonnie asks #costume asks #911 costumes #911 spoilers #marisol nolastname #eddie diaz #911 abc

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 30 days

Note

Okay. It’s 💛 (perfect emoji choice by the way). I’m going be selfish and request a part 2 to Number 16 Cotton Candy. I know you said you didn’t really where to go with it, so I have a suggestion.

The torchbearer invited the reader to the town hall. I’m thus assuming that he was there (unless you’re pulling a navigating on me). I suggest that the reader perhaps either A) Demand to be taken with him back to the Bandito camp/to wherever he meets up with Clancy, or B) Somehow sneak out behind him and follow him to the Bandito camp/wherever he meets up with Clancy. I feel like some good angst could come out of that reunion if it happened (and, of course, the classic “You changed your hair” trope can occur). Maybe for the ending she can end up joining them officially.

This is just a suggestion. I really loved the first one and thought it would be cool to see it continued. If you don’t wanna do it, no problem (also I’m sorry for all my long asks. I’m a yapper).

Number 16 Cotton Candy Part 2 - Clancy x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph/Clancy × Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, anything related to Dema or the Trench story that's generally triggering

Word Count: 2158 !!

Summary: Check the request!

Part 1: link

A/N: Your asks never fail to bring a smile to my face 💛! I had a few ideas with this one and tbh it did relatively well. Someone else reposted it wanting a part 2 so yay! I’m always checking my phone for your next request 💛(I’m not lying, I think I checked like 7 times today). I’m planning on doing an October challenge and writing something new everyday based on a prompt, obviously tøp themed! P.S. I’m also a yapper. Also incredibly proud of this one's ending - literally crying.

The town hall was normally empty, cold. But with the amount of people who looked almost like what Clancy had described bandtios as, it felt hopeful. I’d wondered who all those people were, how they’d found out about this, the banditos, and why they were here rather than in prison cells. Surely a rebellion in Dema would be wiped out instantly, even one of this size. Clancy had walked into the room, face covered in a red and gray mask before speaking to us. Everyone was quiet, anxious to hear what he had to say. Had any of these people even met him before? Did they even know what he looked like? He was shorter than I’d remembered, preaching a story I’d heard him tell 3 years ago. The story felt more important when it was being told to a room full of people rather than just me in the dressing room of ‘Good Day Dema’. Except something was wrong with Clancy. He looked sick, slowly throughout his speech he started to stumble until he collapsed to the floor. Citizens jumped out of their seats and ran in his direction, crowding around his body on the floor.

“Take his mask off!” I heard one yell while another was already removing the piece of fabric. I stayed in my seat, stretching up to get a look at the floor to see his face, one I hadn’t seen in years.

“Don’t bother,” a voice came from next to me. The Torchbearer. “He’s not here.”

“What?” I asked, turning to face him.

“He told you about seizing right?”

I nodded. There was no way Clancy was seizing, only bishops could seize. I looked back down to the floor to see a lifeless body laying there. A body which wasn’t Clancy’s, not even close to it. I stood up and started towards The Torchbearer.

“Tell me everything right now or I swear to god I’ll–I’ll…” The Torchbearer grabbed my hand and led me away from the town hall and out into the night. It was dark enough to hide from anyone else around after curfew but the real worry was coming. Soon the vultures would come out and the bishops would be able to see everything. We ran far from the hall and turned into an alleyway. “Where the fuck is he?” I shouted. He held me tightly, clearly trying to calm me down. His fingers dug into my arms, hard enough to tell me to shut up but light enough to not leave bruises.

“He–He’s safe. Off continent. I’ve kept an eye on him. The sub went down and he washed onto Vøldsoy, an island not far away from here. He’s heading back to Trench on a boat, back to the Bandito Camp,” he explained, composedly. He’d been safe on an island for the last 3 years and hadn’t even reached out once. So much for ‘I’ll come back for you’.

“And what exactly have you been doing since he was captured?” I felt weak inside and light lit by Clancy snuffed out.

“I–uh… I have an ability to guide,” he continued. “Physically I’m back at the camp but I’m able to appear to people in spirit. I’ve been guiding him. He has the ability to seize like the bishops, hence why the boy on the floor–” Even The Torchbearer wasn’t here right now. The ‘rebellion’ was turning out to be a fake movement with more talk than action.

“I don’t want to hear about the boy he used,” I interrupted, “I want to be taken to him. Now.” His face scrunched slightly and his body’s stiff composure relaxed slightly.

“I can do that.”

We waited, vultures circled over the city, eyes lit orange by the bishops. The Torchbearer grabbed my hand, leading me out into the empty street. He stopped in front of a manhole and removed the cover while I kept watch.

“There are tunnels down there. If you walk out towards the light you’ll come out in Trench. I can physically meet you there,” he explained, helping me down into the hole. The heavy black boots on my feet stomped down onto the damp ground. The air was dank and felt heavy, hard to breathe in. “You need to run before the bishops find out you’re missing, I’ll see you on the other side,” he declared, closing the lid and sealing me into the tunnel alone. I listened to exactly what he said, despite the air practically suffocating me–I ran. The roof of the tunnel was covered in wooden planks, old and molding no doubt. Light peeked through towards the end of the tunnel and I quickly made my way there. As I exited, I noticed the landscape for the first time. It was flat and dry, except for a few rocks. A bush of yellow flowers sat pristinely at the end, indicating that I was safe.

“You made it.” My entire body jolted in shock, forgetting I was actually supposed to be meeting someone. The Torchbearer was wearing different clothing from the last time I’d seen him. A navy green hooded jacket with yellow tape across his chest, a yellow bandana covering his face. He was carrying a black jacket for me and two other banditos appeared behind him, each carrying yellow tape.

“Where is he?” I said, taking the jacket while the banditos taped my shoulders.

“He’s still on the island, preparing to head back to Trench in a few days,” The Torchbearer didn’t even look back at me while he spoke. As we hiked through the terrain, I took in the environment I’d dreamed about. Clancy’s description was an understatement, it wasn’t beautiful, or colorful, or free, it was so much more than that. We walked back to the camp where I was escorted to a tent, a yellow one. The camp was full of tents and boxes of equipment. I wondered what they did for food in an environment like this. How the bishops got food into Dema. Blankets were set up perfectly inside the tent along with one essential item I hadn’t expected to be there, something I hadn’t touched in years. It brought back memories I wasn’t sure were positive but I knew exactly why it was there, The Torchbearer knew the significance, he had to. Number 16 cotton candy hair dye and bleach. He’d set me up with one of his closest friends–or so I’d heard. Debby, a bandito who had apparently been part of the rebellion since she was 13. She was born in the same region as me, had bright red hair, and was clearly the designated hair person in the group. After spending an afternoon telling her every detail of the story, she offered to dye it for me. I gladly accepted.

It was a week before The Torchbearer mentioned Clancy again. I’d begged him to tell me what was happening with him but he’d refused to say anything. Until out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, he’d enter my tent in a hurry.

“He’s arriving on the shore, pack a bag,” he declared, with no explanation. There were three banditos lined up behind him, each carrying a torch. I wondered where Debby was, she had to know what was going on.

“Who?” I asked. Any number of people could be arriving… and there was no need to get my hopes up.

“You know who Y/N,” The Torchbearer had a serious expression plastered on his face, determined. “Pack your bag.”

It took 3 hours for us to reach the edge of the forest. Torchbearer stopped right where the trees opened into a large clearing, turning to face me. We hadn’t spoken much on the hike but here we were. I’d wondered how Clancy dealt with him, someone as talkative and creative as him, and then The Torchbearer. Two completely different personalities.

“Y/N. He–uh… he thinks I’ve physically been with him since Scaled and Icy. He might be in shock,” he spoke. I didn’t have a chance to respond before I was pushed forward and out into the open. Torchbearer had handed me Clancy’s mask and followed right behind me. I scanned the field, empty other than a large bonfire that lit up the night sky. Back in Dema the night sky was just dark, no stars or clouds. I wished I had gotten out earlier, I’d have been able to see more of them. A man stumbled out from behind a tree on the opposite side of the field, right on time as The Torchbearer had predicted. I ran to him, a new set of scars on his face capturing my attention. He was dressed in a dark coat, a black beanie covering his head, eyes full of concern. Clancy had aged, sun damage was evident along with smile lines etched onto his face.

“You’re here? You–you got out? How did you get out?” He turned around as if he expected someone to be standing there. “You said–” Torchbearer stepped out from behind me, a loud sigh escaping his lips.

“I’m here…”

Clancy pointed right at him. “Josh… you’re going to need to explain where the hell you’ve been for the last 4 years.” Another secret that had been kept from me, The Torchbearer’s name… Josh. The two of them walked away together, as if I didn’t exist, continuing their conversation. I desperately tried to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach, the bubbling mix of rage and sorrow building up. I no longer mattered.

The whole journey back, Clancy and the Torchbearer–Josh–exchanged stories, catching each other up on the last 4 years. I returned back to my tent when we arrived at the camp, the sound of banditos running backing and forth, welcoming one of their own back. I was exhausted and all I needed was rest, that and to be left alone. Surely I hadn’t escaped for this, to be thrown aside like I was just another asset to ‘the cause’.

“Y/N?” A dirt-covered hand crept around the fabric ‘door’ of the tent, Clancy. He was the last person I wanted to see or talk to, but before I could say anything he’d stepped inside and sat down in front of me. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to explain himself. “Are you okay?” Three words no one had asked me in the days I’d been out of Dema.

“Am I okay? Am I fucking okay? You were dead, you were gone for four years Clancy! Four fucking years!” I shouted, my breath quickening. He reached out for my hands and I moved to shove him away. Clearly his reflexes had improved because he’d caught my hands and instead pulled me in close. His heartbeat thumped against my ear, gently telling me he was nervous. It had been a long time since I had been this close to anyone. I couldn’t do it anymore, I knew nothing about him. I wasn’t okay, not at all.

“I know–I’m–I’m so sorry,” his hand rested on the back of my head, the first proper touch we’d had since ‘Good Day Dema’. “I’m sorry Y/N.” Tears started to well at the edges of my eyes, threatening to spill over. My face burned and contorted into a pained frown, every muscle in my body aching. He rocked us back and forth, whispering comforting words into my ear. My mother used to do that when I was angry. I was the type of person who only got angry when they were scared or sad–it wasn’t clear which one this was.

“I loved you,” I sighed heavily, letting my head drop. I hadn’t admitted that to anyone, including myself.

“I still love you,” he cupped my face, leaning his forehead against mine. I hated him and loved him at the same time. “Come here,” he removed his large–and heavy–jacket, placing it to the side of my blankets along with his beanie. His hair… it was gone. The brightly coloured pink we’d bonded over was now gone. The color I’d just dyed my own hair. I’d stolen one of the bandito’s beanies to keep warm on the hike and still had it on, hiding the color.

“I want to hate you.”

“You’re allowed to. You–you should. I made a promise and didn’t hold to it,” he traced my palm lines instead of looking at me.

“You have no hair,” I chuckled tiredly. He sat back, brows furrowed in surprise before shrugging.

“It was easier to shave it off instead of letting it grow out.”

“I liked the pink,” I muttered. Clancy curled a strand of hair that was hanging out from the beanie around his fingers.

“I can tell. You changed your hair too,” His eyes darted over my body, “What is that… number 16 cotton candy?” The tears finally fell from my face as I nodded, I removed the beanie and let my hair fall freely.

“I missed you.”

Hope you liked it 💛! Looking forward to the next request :)

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whelmed-justwhelmed · 3 months

Text

Thoughts about Vincent Valentine and some of his struggles

Some miscellaneous notes before the actual substance of this post.

Loosely inspired by / based on this post, might suggest reading it before my own for a better understanding of the perspectives of the ideas in this post, though not strictly necessary as I think it’s still comprehensible without doing so. This post was made to my understanding + my current interpretation + what I can remember of things at the moment. Anyways here’s my maybe somewhat rambling thoughts, this is what I’ve got thus far. ( @sephirthoughts ask and you shall receive.)

After seeing and being inspired by the previously mentioned post I got to thinking about what I felt to be an interesting character development opportunity for Vincent. The basic premise being how Vincent’s situation, mostly in relation to himself and some of the things that have happened to him in the past, could potentially improve if he could at least start to reconcile his views of things compared to the objective realities. I feel like a step like this could help him to have a healthier perspective and at least somewhat improve his general quality of life.

Now it’s known how feelings such as guilt and regret among other such ones weigh heavily on him, of which a significant amount stem from his time as a bodyguard for the scientists of shinra manor. Although I do acknowledge these things aren’t the only ones that weigh on him and that my proposal of reconciliation is not the only thing that could be done to help his situation, much of his suffering specifically does seem to directly or indirectly stem from that time, his perspective of it, and of how it all relates to him. So with that perspective in mind, I think it’s a good place to start (at least for this hypothetical Vincent character development scenario).

Vincent is the sort where I want to (respectfully) gently grab him by the shoulders and shake a bit going, “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your responsibility, you did about as much as you could for the situation, It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.” Sadly though it seems (at least to me I feel) he’s generally not at a point where such a message would really get through to him in any meaningful or lasting way, so then that led me to wonder, what sorts of things might get him to that point? And what would the process look like?

I feel like he would probably need some sort of external prompting to actually properly start the process and that said process would be a gradual one. Not entirety sure how the prompting would start and be sustained though. Perhaps for example as something to start with, something like the moment in the lament of the damned side quest in rebirth where there’s brief vague discussion of the manor scientists and Barrett expresses how he thinks Lucrecia must not have been all that much better than Hojo causing Vincent to get defensive about her. A gradual process of stuff that challenges him like others questioning things and being faced with tangible evidence of the past, something that challenges him and he actually starts to stop and more seriously consider that perspective.

Here’s where the basic premise as previously mentioned really comes in. I feel Vincent’s situation could potentially improve if he could start to reconcile his perspective and feelings regarding what happened then and the objective reality of it. Challenges and consideration could lead to some acknowledgment that those two perspectives can coexist with each other, that he doesn’t have to choose one over the other.

In regards to Lucrecia, while not always exactly the most pleasant way to think of her, he can still feel fondly towards her and her memory while also thinking a bit more critically about how her actions and the choices she’s made have had serious and more often than not harmful consequences, especially about the harm done to him directly or indirectly. He could still care about her, albeit a likely less idealized version of her, and hold her a bit more accountable for the harm she’s caused. In regards to Vincent himself, it could significantly improve his overall view of himself and perhaps by extension general quality of life. Potential benefits being things like generally improving his mental state, the more specific parts of that could be things like better self worth, less self loathing, at least a bit of self forgiveness, generally starting to be able to take some of the blame off of himself. As such it could help him start to recognize he’s largely not responsible or at fault for what happened (and that he was a victim of the circumstances at that point more than anything?). It could help facilitate him being able to cope with it all a bit better, perhaps even heal the mental / emotional wounds a bit.

All that said, I highly doubt all this would be easy for him to do, I think he’s going to have to struggle for it. Like I’ve said, I think it would be a slow and gradual process that challenges him to think more critically and change his perspective to eventually at least start to understand that he’s not the one in the wrong, such a process would take time and effort. It would also involve a lot of difficult emotions, what emotions, in what context, and how they come up, I don’t really have as much of an answer for at the moment as I feel it depends on how one would imagine the reconciliation process and things as a whole would play out. I’m not necessarily saying I want to see him break down or something like that per se, but I would like for him to have proper opportunities to be more openly emotional about it all. For him to have chances to be vulnerable and be treated with care in return. (And if that means having him break down then by all means let him break down.)

I do want to say that I don’t expect such a process to solve everything with him or that I would expect him to stop being upset about all that’s happened or otherwise take away what makes his story his (etc.), just that ultimately the idea is all about getting him to a point of having a bit more of a balance of his feelings and viewpoint. Bittersweet, but hopeful.

Hypothetically, if I were to try and place the idea where I think it could work well game timeline wise, I would place it around Dirge of Cerberus and / or post Dirge. I think it would go well then for the subject matter being covered, could work well thematically, and for potential opportunities for him to actually have the time and space to think and process (etc.). (Admittedly I think that putting it sometime around DoC is the obvious answer and that it could work at other points in time as well if it was done thoughtfully.)

I think that’s about all I have on this right now.

#so… I wrote a thing this took a lot longer and got a lot lengthier than I expected #regardless make of the writing what you will I suppose #I dont usually write stuff like this (or in general really) I tried my best though #I would like to make it a bit clearer that I appreciate the post that inspired this in the first place #found it to be a nice reminder to try not to think of lucrecia too drastically in the ways she commonly could be #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #vincent valentine #whelm is feeling conversational

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