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#are they considering a future with new names?
elainsgirl · 2 days
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Antis hating and downplaying, Death and The lovely fawn will never not be funny bcs they’re literally just jealous.
Gwyn hasn’t even met Feyre (yet people still think she’s going to be the next main character?) , Nesta never gives an imagery between gwyn and Az or gives them a couples name. Well, if we’re going down that road - Nesta never actually ships Gwyn and Az either but that’s another discussion.
Feyre never looks at Elucien and gives them a couples name either. I mean…they’re literally mates and yet Feyre at no point in acowar or even acofas, explains an imagery between them.
Fox and the Fawn is fanon. It’s completely made up by Eluciens. I don’t even see the appeal or the connection? Foxes are predators - do you know red foxes attack fawns? So exactly what’s the appeal for fox and the fawn between Elucien? back to the point, Sjm never gives elucien an imagery or couple name that’s canon.
she gives one between Vassien. “Lord of fire and bird of flame” - yet nothing for Elain and Lucien.
Sure you can say Lucien and Elain’s names both mean light, Lucien’s heir to Day and Elain says she needs sunshine but
Lucien is only a potential heir to Day. There’s actually no foreshadowing he will become HL of the Day Court. His connection to the court is through spells & reading/knowledge not actual light/sun.
Elain got her sunshine & became better, unlike what elucien’s love to paint the NC as, Velaris does in fact get the same amount of sun as Day.
and funnily, Elain and Lucien are never connected together through day/light/sunshine. There’s never a scene where Feyre’s like “it makes sense why Elains mate would be an hair to day” etc.
putting all that aside - it’s absolutely hilarious when antis then try to downplay death and the fawn and make it seem this toxic foreshadowing. What elucien’s wanted for elain and Lucien, sjm did for elriel - connecting them both to this idea of death/life instead of connecting elain & Lucien through sunshine/light.
Azriel’s name is a spin on Death. Azrael means angel of Death. The reason Fawn is used for elain - is not to show the power imbalance between her & Az (yes I’ve had someone tell me this is foreshadowing how Az will always be more powerful and stronger then Elain)
But Because Elain’s name in Welsh means Fawn. Fawns represent spring, Life, new beginnings. (Deers represent regeneration)
For centuries - from the beginning of time - life and death have always been equals, working together to create balance. “death and the lovely fawn” is actually a very good way to subtly foreshadow elriel’s future storyline regarding the prison. it isn’t some way to showcase how toxic elriel will be and considering the scene had a full focus and was said during one of the most important scenes in Acowar - I’d say the imagery is pretty important.
Night Triumphant & Stars Eternal
Lady Death & Lord of Bloodshed
Death & The Lovely Fawn
Lord of Fire & Bird of Flame
It can’t be made more obvious for you who the endgame couples are.
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lol-jackles · 2 days
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Would doing a cameo or guest spot on the Boys hurt Jared's branding? We found out today that Kripke seems to be tweeting him a lot, and I don't think it's about the revival from what Jared said about working out. For me it wouldn't be so much about nudity as my trust in his choices for projects in the future. Right now, I trusted him to watch a cowboy show of all things and loved the family vibe. But after an X rated gig, maybe not so much. Do agents and managers consider things like that or not
It's not the cameo or guest spot that is the issue per se, after all Charlize Theron had a funny cameo as an actress portraying one of the supes in a movie within a movie, and all lead actors do guest spots between their main projects. 
There's main three things going on.  First, Kripke is indulging in some of his worst impulses.  He knows Amazon will censor out the graphic sexual and violent scenes, but it won't stop him from filming them for his own titillations. 
Second, unsympathetic roles never help anyone's career. Just look at how much Misha disavowed Karla with excuses that he "didn't know" it was based on true events. Back then Misha was a struggling actor who accepted work whenever he can. The reason why Jared said he would like to play "thinking man villain" is because those type of villains are usually right in their thinking; they're just wrong in how they try to achieve their goal.
Third, if the guest role is an unsympathetic villain that gets killed by the good guys, then it goes against the upward trajectory of Jared's career. If you've seen the movie Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, there is a scene between Al Pacino and Leonardo di Caprio that explains this.  Pacino plays a director to Caprio's Rick Dalton who is a fading lead tv star known for playing a heroic character name Jake Cahill on Western series, now is guest starring as bad guys in Western series.  Rick has been offered a lead role in Italy's spaghetti Western movies that he's unsure of accepting.
Marvin Schwarz: You… You always play the bad guy on these (American) shows?
Rick Dalton: Yeah.
Marvin Schwarz: So, and they have a fight scene at the end of them?
Rick Dalton: Well, not… not… not Land of the Giants or F.B.I… but the rest, yeah. Yeah.
Marvin Schwarz: you lose in the fight?
Rick Dalton: Yeah. Yeah, of course.  I’m… I’m the heavy.
Marvin Schwarz: Oooh, That’s an old trick pulled by the networks.
Rick Dalton: *stunned*
Marvin Schwarz: Now, you take (new character) Bingo Martin, for example. Right?  So you got a new guy (actor) like Scott Brown.  You wanna build up his bona fides, right?  So you hire a guy from a canceled show to play the heavy.   Then at the end of the show, when they fight, it’s hero besting heavy.  But what the audience sees… is Bingo Martin whipping Jake Cahill’s ass.
Rick Dalton: *taking it all in*
Marvin Schwarz: You see?  Then next week, it’s Ron Ely.  And next week, it’s Bob Conrad, wearing his tight pants, kicking your ass.
Rick Dalton (in a bit of denial): Yeah.
Marvin Schwarz: Now, in another couple of years, playing punching bag to every swinging dick new to the network, that’s gonna have a psychological effect… on how the audience perceives you.
Rick Dalton: Right.
Marvin Schwarz: So Rick, who’s gonna kick the shit out of you next week? Mannix? The Man from U.N.C.L.E.? The Girl from U.N.C.L.E.? How about Batman and Robin? Ping! Pow! Choom! Zoom! Down goes you, down goes your career as a leading man.
Rick Dalton: *silence*
Marvin Schwarz: Or do you go to Rome and star in Westerns… and win fucking fights?  Ticket, señor?
Cliff Booth (played by Brad Pitt): All right....... What’s the matter, partner?
Rick Dalton: Well… it’s official, old buddy. I’m a has-been.
Cliff Booth: What are you talking about?  What did that guy tell you?
Rick Dalton: He told me the goddamn truth, is what he told me.
Ever wonder why most action stars like Dwayne the Rock Johnson have in their contract that their characters never lose fights on screen? Because they don't want to even give audience the chance to have a subconscious idea that they're not lead stars.
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timeagainreviews · 1 day
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A Foot in Two Worlds: 73 Yards
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My third-grade lunch buddy was a girl named Kendra. We used to love chatting about movies and television. My favourite topic was Batman. Hers was Full House. However, one morning, instead of gushing over Stephanie Tanner, she told me about a movie she and her brother had watched over the weekend. The movie was 1989’s “Clownhouse,” and she was a bit traumatised by it. And because of her vivid description, so was I. Honestly, I don’t remember anything past her saying “It’s about these kids who see clowns watching them through their windows,” because I never stopped thinking about that sentence, for years. While I’ve still never actually seen Clownhouse, nor do I experience coulrophobia, the idea of being watched from a distance still creeps me out. I still close the blinds at night.
Initially, I wanted to compare “73 Yards,” to something like “It Follows,” or even “The Immortal Snail.” Both scenarios entail being tracked by a slow but relentless pursuer who kills you if it ever catches up to you. But “73 Yards,” isn’t so much a story about being pursued. It’s about feeling watched. It’s about feeling judged. It’s about feeling abandoned. It preys on our fear of being the subject of gossip. That people could spread lies about us that scare away our loved ones. The fear that maybe they’re right. Maybe we don’t deserve love. It’s about the ambiguity that sits within our hearts. The liminal threshold between us at our best and us at our worst. But it’s not just about the wicked and the divine, but also body and spirit. A foot in both worlds.
Doctor Who currently has a foot in both worlds. The Doctor steps on a science fictiony land mine one week, and the next week he’s stepping on fairy circles. A recurring theme in this new season is “look before you leap.” Or ‘watch your step.” Ruby steps on a butterfly in the past and changes species. The Doctor steps on a land mine and almost dies. And now, the Doctor steps on a fairy circle and disappears. The Doctor is learning to have a healthy respect for the new supernatural powers coursing through the Whoniverse. At least he would if he remembered anything from this adventure. Not even Ruby will learn a lesson here, so was it worth it?
After last week’s “Boom,” I was game for whatever Russell T Davies had in store for the future. The trailer for “73 Yards,” gave us very little to go on, and in hindsight, it’s pretty easy to see why. This was a Doctor-lite episode and therefore not a lot of footage to share that wouldn’t also spoil this being a Ruby-centric story. But I was ready for it. Ruby has been suffering a bit from underdevelopment as a character. I even saw a Chibnall stan on Twitter saying so, which is quite extreme when you consider how underdeveloped Yaz was. In Ruby’s case, however, it’s hard to pinpoint what it is about her that’s underdeveloped. She’s got a great family dynamic. She’s nurturing. She plays in a band. But who is she? Like River Song before her, her character arc is starting to affect her character development. And my interest is waning.
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After the Doctor steps onto the fairy circle and disappears, Ruby unsuccessfully tries the TARDIS doors. She then checks around the other side to see if he’s having a pee. This may be the first time the show has canonically mentioned the Doctor goes to the bathroom. It’s funny to think of the great Time Lord having a slash off the edge of a cliff. The Doctor seems to do a lot of important things on cliff edges these days. Failing to find the Doctor, it’s then that Ruby notices a strange old woman standing under a creepy old tree from 73 yards away making some sort of hand gestures. However, the closer she walks toward the woman, the further she appears away.
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The mechanism of how the woman moves is hidden by editing, but it feels like something Ruby would notice quickly. I don’t imagine Ruby walking closer would cause the woman to start backing up physically like that Community episode where Professor Duncan got a restraining order on Chang and used it like he had force powers. Instead, they cut back to the woman and she’s simply further away. Ruby is conveniently looking for footing every time, so she fails to see this. But if you started walking toward someone and they started hovering backwards, wouldn’t you find that weird? It’s not like she doesn’t sense something weird pretty early on. She even asks the woman if the Doctor’s disappearance has anything to do with her. She even asks the hiker (yet another character played by Susan Twist) if she can see the old woman.
Something I found interesting about the Susan Twist scene was that whoever her character is, she’s not immune to the effects of the old woman. Either that, or she’s lying. Either way, it feels important that we were shown her having the same reaction to the woman as everyone else. If she’s a magical trickster, she’s not an invincible one, or maybe she’s not magical at all. We’ve learned very little about Susan Twist’s character(s), but this indicates that she’s not fully in charge of the situation if she can be scared off like that. What’s frustrating is that the first time a character looks at her and says “Hey don’t I know you from somewhere?” it’s in an aborted timeline. I would have expected the Doctor to have made the connection after the ambulance screens in “Boom,” matched the woman from Space Babies, but maybe he’s been distracted by clothes.
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By this point in the episode, I’ve been fully drawn in. Ruby finds her way to the small village of Glyngatwg and a pub called “Y Pren Marw,” which translates to “The Dead Wood.” I thought this might have been a reference to the weird tree on the cliff, but the illustration on the pub sign looked more like an oak tree, so I doubt it. Another name they could have used for the pub could have been “The Gaslight Inn,” because man oh man did they gaslight the hell out of Ruby. They keep accusing her of thinking they’re yokels for asking pretty innocuous questions. Asking if you can pay with your phone is perfectly reasonable. There’s a chippy in my village that does the best fish n chips in the area, but I never use them because they haven’t got a card machine and I don’t carry cash. I don’t imagine the owner of the chippy goes home every night in his Fred Flintstone car because of it. Maybe they’re worried they really are yokels. Either way, five quid for a Coke and abusive staff? What’s their Trip Advisor score? Negative six?
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The only non-yokel in the pub is Enid and that’s solely because she’s played by Siân Phillips, who could never be mistaken for common. She was easily the highlight of the episode for me, sitting elegantly at the bar in her fashionable hat. Of all of the patrons at the bar, she’s the one I believe would coin the Latin phrase “semper distans,” to describe the way the old woman follows but never approaches. If only she could have taught Isaac Newton the word “gravitas.” Beyond being incredibly rude, I rather enjoyed the patrons of Y Pren Marw. They reminded me of characters you would have found in classic Doctor Who. The pub scenes reminded me a lot of “The Dæmons,” or “Terror of the Zygons.” But more than anything, this episode reminded me of “The Stones of Blood,” wherein things start like folk horror and end in a more mundane setting.
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After Ruby’s unwanted follower scares away one of the pub’s most faithful patrons, she’s forced to head back to London, which is about where the episode starts to lose steam. Up until that moment, I was expecting a sort of witch coven or worse to spring up in the sleepy village of Glyngatwg. I was ready to call it RTD’s best ever. But now we’re back in London where the biggest mystery is Mrs Flood, and she’s really only there to remind us she exists. But that’s not to say a piece of Glyngatwg didn’t leave with Ruby, and it’s not to say I disliked the story’s ending. But there was a noticeable drop in excitement the moment Ruby boarded that train.
I found it odd that Carla and Cherry were badmouthing the Doctor in his absence. Cherry was ready to jump his bones the last time they spoke and now he’s good for nothing. I get that they want to support Ruby, but like, what if he’s hurt somewhere? All I’m saying is that if I ever go missing, please don’t send Carla and Cherry to find me. After telling Carla about the old woman, Ruby’s deepest fears are realised. Like Susan Twist and Josh before her, talking to the old woman causes her to abandon Ruby. The look Carla gives Ruby from the cab as it drives away is the last way anyone would want to be looked at by their loved one. It wasn’t a look of fear, it was a look of disgust.
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It’s that look of disgust that really started to make me think of another story from the Whoniverse- “The Curse of Clyde Langer,” a Sarah Jane Adventures episode written by Phil Ford. In it, Clyde’s name becomes cursed and anyone who hears or reads it becomes irrationally opposed to Clyde. His friends and family disown him and it’s Clyde against the world, which is wild because Clyde’s one of my favourite characters in all of Doctor Who. Who could hate that precious cinnamon roll? Even further, who could forget that episode? Well, it turns out Davies was kinda hoping the answer would be you. I’m not saying Davies is out of ideas, but he seems to be “remixing,” a lot of what has come before. More on that in a moment.
After losing her family, Ruby gets on with life, but not before being given a spark of hope in the form of Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. We even learn some things about the old woman from Kate. We establish that yes, it is always 73 yards away. And no matter how close a person gets to her, she always looks as in focus as a person with 20/20 vision would see her from 73 yards. We also learn that the old woman’s “powers” work via headset, as Kate breaks contact with Ruby, leaving her devastated from losing yet another lifeline.
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An interesting factoid about that scene is that Kate and Ruby were sitting across from “The House of Pi,” and Pi Day is the 73rd day of a non-leap year. Why do I know this? Because I went into a bit of a rabbit hole trying to learn about the number 73 yesterday. I looked into its mathematical significance. I learned it’s Sheldon Cooper’s favourite number. I looked it up in terms of numerology. I read the 73rd Psalm. There are 73 books in the Catholic Bible. But none of it felt significant. Then my dumbass googled whether RTD had explained the number, and he claimed it was as simple as going outside and measuring the distance from which people’s faces began to blur. Right. Well, that’s disappointing, albeit creative.
We’re treated to a montage of Ruby getting on with her life throughout the next couple of decades. Like the rest of us, her age starts to show itself with long hair and big glasses. I mentioned earlier that Ruby suffers a bit from a lack of character development and this montage does nothing to help that. She grows up into possibly one of the most boring people they could have made her. Her queer group of friends she has a band with seem to have disappeared. Her dating life is painfully heteronormative. She didn’t date a single woman throughout that time? She would have learned by now not to encourage her friends to talk to the old woman, and due to the perception filter, it’s not like anyone seemed to mind her anyhow. I’m just saying, if someone as normie as her started wearing a political shirt for the nuclear war-hungry Albion Party, I’d look at her and say “Pssh. Figures.”
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Speaking of the Albion Party, it’s time we started talking about Harold Saxon. Oh, sorry, I meant Roger ap Gwilliam. The episode implies that Roger is the trickster “Mad Jack" who had escaped the fairy circle after the Doctor stepped on it. But Davies is remixing the classics, or as LCD Soundsystem puts it- “Shut up and play the hits.” He even mistreats women in the same way as the Master. I took this to be Doctor Who’s flimsy attempt at a comment on the MeToo movement. It would work better if ap Gwilliam was more than a moustache-twirling miscreant. Especially because Ruby throws poor Marti to the lions by not warning her away from Roger. If this is a MeToo story, Ruby is an enabler, which is not a great look. But she apologises so I guess it’s ok. Don’t worry Marti, your trauma gets erased anyhow.
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While the campaigners prepare for a press conference for Roger ap Gwilliam to announce that Britain has purchased Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal, Ruby realises she’s out of time and needs to act now. Using her semper distans friend to her advantage, Ruby backs 73 yards away from Roger and sends him cowering and eventually resigning from his position as prime minister. Ruby expects this to be the end of the old woman, but she remains with her until the day she’s on her deathbed, at which point, the old woman changes from her perspective to Ruby’s. As the old woman, Ruby sees her young self and is able to call out to her and warn her about the fairy circle. That’s what happened, right?
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Well, maybe? The biggest curveball comes in the form of the old woman herself. Because while Ruby does age to the ripe old age of 80, the actress playing her is Amanda Walker. The actress playing the woman is Hilary Hobson. Set pictures have also revealed Hobson in make-up that appears to be scarring going up the left side of her face. And those hand gestures of hers? Sign language. Eagle-eyed viewers have roughly translated her signing as “Bless you. Thank you so much, that's so kind of you. When you gave me that little thing, it was just so precious. How am I ever going to repay you? But we will think of something.” Perhaps this scarred woman is someone the Doctor and Ruby have yet to meet. Perhaps she repays them by warning them away from the fairy circle and saving both the Doctor and Ruby from a bizarre fate.
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People seem divided by this episode in a major way, which is pretty normal for Doctor Who. But one of the more irritating takeaways I’ve seen is that the episode doesn’t make any sense. That’s only sort of true. There are some bootstrap paradox things occurring, which if you haven’t accepted as a reality of Doctor Who at this point, what are you even doing here? But what does the old woman say to Ruby? Where does the Doctor go? How does she travel back in time to the clifftops of Glyngatwg? Forgetting completely that we’re in a Doctor Who era which has introduced magic in a real way. But that’s a bit hand-wavy, can’t we do better? Well, they do mention that the TARDIS’s perception filter parked so close to the fairy circle might affect how people ignore the old woman. I liked this because it implies that the TARDIS and magic are somewhat compatible and therefore opens up new avenues for storytelling. You could also imply that if the TARDIS could affect the fairy circle, perhaps it can affect the TARDIS in turn. Maybe people reject Ruby because the warding spell placed on Mad Jack is affecting Ruby. Maybe Ruby needed to be in a position where she was so friendless that she would join the conservative party.
The episode may not have explicitly explained things, but it gives us enough of a vague framework to form an idea. As a fan of David Lynch, I am rather happy to exist in that liminal space. To straddle the cusp between the known and the unknown. It leaves an air of mystery, or as David Lynch would say “room to dream.” I will however slightly come down on the episode for its rather bland ending compared to its strong start. I don’t agree with the people who said it nosedives toward the end. But I would be lying if I said I lost a lot of interest the moment Ruby left Glyngatwg. Earlier, I compared the story to “The Stones of Blood,” but where the two stories differ is that when “The Stones of Blood,” changes its setting from the occult folk horror of the Cornish countryside, it replaces it with something equally strange.
That isn’t to say the jump to the year 2046 isn’t interesting. I’d be very curious to see how this story plays over the next few years. It acts as speculative fiction and the bizarre reality of speculative fiction is that it occasionally becomes mundane in hindsight. What once sounded unreasonable now feels painfully obvious. HBO’s “The Leftovers” hits different after the pandemic. Richard Kelly’s loony “Southand Tales,” feels tame after the 2016 election. Therein, I fear the day Roger ap Gwilliam becomes something more than a cartoonish depiction of British politicians. Partly because of the implied threat of nuclear devastation, but also because 2046 feels like a rather generous timeframe.
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elejahfanfic · 11 months
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amelia x oliver_
@darknightfrombeyond
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ssaalexblake · 1 year
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i’m still mad about that dw magazine what the future looks like headline lol 
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apollo-cackling · 11 months
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urban fantasy never has been a very compelling setting to me idk. it can't (or in my experience doesn't ever) go as achingly real as literary/contemporary fiction (the death of vivek oji, ocean vuong's books, bloom into you), but it can't go as fully fantasy as proper high fantasy (malazan, this one MG series I remember loving... the Tapestry?, etc.) so it's like ehhh?
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thedeadthree · 2 years
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okay but………. what if i changed my url to vermithcrs 🥀😵‍💫
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carpathxanridge · 2 years
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going to a family reunion and thinking about matriarchal descent and the injustice of inheriting the last names of men. this is the family reunion of my grandmothers’ siblings, basically all the descendants of her parents since we’re not sure if any of her cousins will be coming. my grandmother’s father was an abusive alcoholic who tortured her mother to an early grave, after which she and all of her siblings were taken in and raised alone by her grandma. an entire family raised by this strong, incredible woman, and they reunite under the name of that man. they should all take her name (and i’m going to be a problem and tell this to anyone who will listen at the party lmao)
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aria0fgold · 2 months
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Hey, umm... uhh... past Aria... What the Fuck does these names Mean??? I was looking through my OC Writing thread in a private discord server (where I practically dump everything), and I wrote a message with three names... Ainsley, Calytrix (makes for a nice twin name with Calyx) <- yes it was written like that, Lynwen.
Okay so first off-- Who is Calyx??? I tried searching for any other messages where I mentioned those 4 names and came up with Nothing else other than the initial message I wrote (except for calyx where I mentioned twice under a different context tho). Past Aria... WHO ARE THESE PPL???????????
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lxnarphase · 22 days
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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★
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━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎
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you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.
every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.
nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.
except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.
he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.
you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.
and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.
eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.
these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!
it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!
so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.
"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.
toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.
"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."
crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!
"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."
having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.
it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.
"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.
no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?
"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"
whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.
"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.
"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"
"make me."
you blink.
a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.
ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.
"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."
catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.
his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?
as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.
oh.
oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?
curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.
fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.
propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in-
"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."
"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.
toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.
and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.
but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....
fuck.
he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.
"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"
"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.
the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.
he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?
when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."
toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.
wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.
"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.
toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.
you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.
"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.
has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.
his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.
his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.
he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.
"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."
scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.
it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.
"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."
those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.
good boy. you called him a good boy.
the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.
he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.
"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like
"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.
he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.
"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."
oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.
he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.
"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."
"that's my good boy."
once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.
"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."
feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.
he needs it.
he needs you.
needs you so fucking bad.
feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.
he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?
"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"
shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?
feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.
when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.
"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"
you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.
tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.
ah.
it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.
"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"
"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"
"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"
"they didn't."
that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?
...guess you need to find out.
shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"
the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.
while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.
"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.
melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.
despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.
"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.
but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.
his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.
“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.
meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.
"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."
it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.
toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.
"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"
he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.
"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."
you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.
"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."
“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”
you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.
"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."
god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.
"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."
you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"
he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.
"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."
the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.
they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.
"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."
toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.
he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."
one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.
"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.
"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.
it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.
the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"
you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.
your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.
"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"
with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.
his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"
still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"
you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."
"heh. fair point."
you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."
"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"
"my god, toji, you are nasty."
"but you like ittttt."
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.
soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.
he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.
as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.
...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.
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cookie-waffle · 1 year
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Uselessly reminding you that these things are all canon in TOTK:
- Riju is super short for a gerudo her age, but still way taller than Link
- Link has a pet koi fish (or multipul depending on how many pools you put in your dream home)
- Being able to name the piss horse golden horse implies that Zelda had not given it a name yet. Perhaps because she’s a perfectionist and must think of the perfect name, or because she rescued the horse very recently before totk, but fell in love with it so quickly that she just had to have a picture of it in her house.
- The amount (and quality) of paintings done by Princess Zelda points towards her being very artistically talented, which is not something shown in botw. Perhaps this is a sign of her feeling more free and comfortable to be herself.
- Link has 8 ear piercings in total
- Link is still very short, but, it’s easier to see his muscle definition than in botw, meaning he did actually grow like a normal person just not… vertically.
- In the original Japanese text, Zelda calls the Hateno house “the house” instead of “my house” 👀
-The elemental armor headgear will allow you to dye Link’s hair at the dye shop.
- Originally, I thought Link could see the koroks in botw because he was only 17, and that koroks sorta worked like the picori, in that only kids could see them. However, he can still see them in his 20s. So, the games could be implying that he sees them because he was raised as one of them in a past life, and that part of his soul is still connected to the forest.
- The game likely takes place around 5-6 years after botw, because there are quite a lot of new child NPCs, none of which look or act young enough to be considered toddlers.
huge spoilers under the cut
- Link was canonically a furry zonai in a past life, but he’s noticeably less humanoid than Rauru or Mineru. Link has a tail, digitigrade legs, and even dew claws. Meanwhile, Rauru and Sonia have no tails and are plantigrade. This makes me wonder if zonai started intermarrying with mortals long before Rauru met Sonia, which could account for the more human-like traits.
- Link being a zonai at one point finally makes it 100% canon that Link does not need to be reborn as a hylian. It is entirely possible that he could have been a gerudo at some point, or may even be one in a future game.
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yaksha-lover · 7 months
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Someone New
Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.
Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)
GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)
i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts
Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.
The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’
His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.
You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.
You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.
You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.
You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.
Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.
Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.
As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.
-
You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.
He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.
“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”
“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”
Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.
You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.
“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”
“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.
He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.
-
When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.
“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”
“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”
You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.
You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-
You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.
ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar
You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.
Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.
You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.
When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.
You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.
-
“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.
It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.
A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.
‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”
He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.
Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”
You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.
With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.
-
When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.
You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.
You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…
iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto
Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.
Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.
Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.
That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.
You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.
“Hello, Prefect,” he says.
“Azul.”
Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.
“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”
“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”
“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”
Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-
“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”
Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.
You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.
“No need to leave on my account,” he says.
“It’s not.”
He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.
Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.
As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.
-
The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.
You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.
At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.
You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.
He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.
“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”
“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-
“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”
With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.
It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.
You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.
You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…
As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.
“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”
Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.
-
A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.
You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.
He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.
Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.
“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”
With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?
iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper
While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.
Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.
However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.
Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.
You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.
“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”
Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.
“What are you thinking about?”
He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”
You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know…you could still find love?”
“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”
“I-I understand.”
When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.
“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”
With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.
It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.
The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.
Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.
v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit
Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.
He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.
Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.
Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.
Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.
“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.
You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.
You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.
He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.
When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.
It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.
-
The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.
You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.
Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.
He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”
You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.
“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.
“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”
He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”
You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.
“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”
He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.
-
Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.
“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”
Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.
“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”
Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”
When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.
“I’m just teasing you.”
You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.
Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.
vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud
The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.
And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.
You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.
The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.
It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.
Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.
Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.
Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.
“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”
“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.
“How do you know about that?
“Earn their love??”
“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”
“Huh. Okay.”
You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.
“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.
“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”
When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.
-
The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.
Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.
The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.
You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.
You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.
A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.
“Hey MC.”
“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.
Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.
“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.
“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”
Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”
“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”
The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.
“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.
“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.
“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”
“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”
“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”
“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”
“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.
You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.
-
The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.
“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.
“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.
“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.
“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.
“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”
vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia
You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.
That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.
With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.
When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.
It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.
“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”
You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.
“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”
-
Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.
You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.
“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.
“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.
“Human men are fickle.”
You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”
He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”
You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.
-
You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.
On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.
Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.
Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.
Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.
Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.
You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.
He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.
A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.
-
You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.
The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.
Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.
A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.
“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”
The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.
“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.
“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.
“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.
“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.
“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.
“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”
“And you, my king.”
The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.
He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”
“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”
He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.
The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.
This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.
“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”
He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”
You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”
He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”
There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.
-
You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.
When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.
It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?
The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?
Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, my child of man?”
Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.
viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion
Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.
Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?
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chisatowo · 1 year
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Screaming and crying as I give up my pmd randomizer save with a dialga and celebi as my starters because I forgot to change the settings from default and I'm not puting myself through that
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beardedjoel · 9 months
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pretty little wife | better now
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
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series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡
i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡
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How’s my pretty little wife today?
The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  
Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  
You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.
You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.
“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.
“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.
“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 
When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 
Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.
“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.
“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 
“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.
“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 
“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 
“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.
“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.
“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”
“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.
“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.
Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.
Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.
“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 
Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 
“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.
“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 
Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.
“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 
“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 
“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 
“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”
You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 
“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 
To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.
You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.
When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.
“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.
He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 
“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”
“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.
“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”
With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 
He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.
Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 
“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.
“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 
You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 
When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.
“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.
“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.
“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.
“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.
“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.
“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 
Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.
“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.
“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.
“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.
You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.
Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 
He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.
“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.
“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.
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tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x
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wttcsms · 5 months
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when you know, you know, atsumu miya ;
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1k synopsis atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn't long enough content contains fluff, talks of marriage!!!! he's a softie
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It starts off like this: nobody sees Atsumu Miya getting married — not now, not ever, not in the foreseeable future, nor in any of the millions of alternate and parallel universes that may or may not exist.
You’re just not the type of person we see settling down. 
Yeah, that might be true, but it still stings a little. It stings when he sees the white picket fences, and the cars with the MY KID’S AN HONOR STUDENT bumper stickers. It stings when he happens to accidentally catch a rerun of those family-centered sitcoms; the ones where they argue during the day and make up at night, with some cliche moral to the over dramatic situations that have occurred onscreen fifteen minutes ago. It stings when he watches his teammates get engaged and he has to congratulate them — he’s genuinely happy for them, don’t get him wrong — but still… 
It doesn’t matter. Atsumu Miya has long since held the firm belief that he’s just not the type of person the whole “fall in love, get married, have a family, cue the domesticity cuteness overload” schtick is meant for. Besides, it’s not like it’s something he’s spent years obsessing over (maybe months, at most). 
He rationalizes his bachelor status (that’s been a part of him for so long that it’s getting to become somewhat of a red flag for potential girlfriends) as him being the only one left with his priorities straight. After all, he doesn't have to worry about things like parent-teacher conferences or crayon drawings on the wall or trying to buy flowers to make sure the wife isn’t too mad when he comes home late. 
After all, he tells everyone, settling down is still settling. 
And Atsumu Miya, under no circumstances, ever settles.
Which is an ideal he clings to with such a tight grip, if it were flesh and blood, it would be suffocating. He doesn’t, he decides after a while, believe in marriage. 
(That is to say: he doesn’t believe that it’s possible for him. 
It’s not what he says explicitly, but it’s what he truly means.) 
So, when he tells you this on your second date, you’re a little stunned, but you’re quick to recover. Okay… So that’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. The reason why this six feet two inches tall professional athlete with a bank account he generously withdraws money from has been single for so long is because he doesn’t believe in marriage. 
Other than that, he’s been nothing but great. Near perfect. So, all you do is nod and continue on with the original topic of the conversation. Eventually, your budding romance blooms into something much bigger than either of you ever anticipated or saw coming, and while you yourself have never mentioned the M-word after that date, it’s all Atsumu can think about right now. 
Marriage.
The concept of it looms over your relationship; a perpetual gray cloud that threatens to flood this perfect little relationship and have it all go down the drain. You never brought it up after he basically told you he would never marry anyone, and he never brought it up purely because — well — he’s a bit of a coward. 
He’s the type of person who’s set on his own convictions, by the way. If his balls ever drop, and he decides to Man Up, he figures he’ll start the conversation just like that. His stubbornness is nothing new to you, but him figuring out that he might be wrong makes his stomach feel funny. It’s sick and twisted. 
“Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight? I’m at the store right now, and I’m in the mood to cook.” He can picture it clearly: you, standing in one of the grocery store aisles, phone balanced in between your ear and shoulder as you compare the ingredients of the name brand and generic cereal. 
He’s in the locker room, about to pack up his gym bag (that you’ll complain reeks) and head back to his apartment (that’s starting to feel a lot more like yours, with the way your skincare products dominate the bathroom counter), and it hits him so suddenly, he has to sit back down on the bench. 
Atsumu Miya thinks that marriage isn’t for him, and as a defense mechanism, he decides that marriage sucks anyway. But through the tinny speakers of his phone, he can hear you toss something in the shopping cart. He hears the faint crying of a toddler in the background, and then he starts to think about what it would be like to walk around the store with a baby that takes after you. Right now, you’re already sleeping in the same bed with him at least four times out of the week, but it would be perfect, he thinks, to get the privilege to wake up to you every morning.
“Atsumu?” You try to get his attention, and Atsumu tries to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling he gets when he considers a future with you. Settling down is still settling, he tells himself, and then he thinks of the way you looked when you caught the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. The pleased smile on your face, the triumphant way you held the flowers over your head, head thrown back in glee; you looked absolutely radiant. You caught his eye, and you quickly lowered your hands, giving him a sheepish grin. 
He realizes now that if anyone is settling, it’s you. You don’t know that he notices the way you tear up at weddings, or how excited you sound when you get back from dress shopping with one of your friends. You want to get married, and the only thing stopping you is him.
He’s spent ages deluding himself into thinking that he’s somehow losing if he decides to trap himself into a marriage with someone, but no one can accuse him of settling when it’s you he’s marrying. You’re the prize. You’re the only person in the world he wants to give his last name and an obnoxiously big ring to. 
“Make whatever you want, baby. I’ll eat anything.” He’s checking the locations for the nearest jewelers in his immediate vicinity. “I might be a little late, though. I have to check on something.” 
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tiyoin · 2 months
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morality
‘malleus x reader’
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malleus, who every time you fall asleep surrounds you in bristling thorns.
malleus, who does everything in his power to extend your life. he believes that stopping time- even a few hours would give him that much more time with you in the future.
malleus, who cares so deeply for your health and well being, but can’t help but make you sleep more often than you usually would in hopes of extending your life
malleus, who sacrifices the present for the future. it doesn’t matter if you’re awake when he’s off completing royal duties.
malleus thinks that’s time wasted that could be saved for the future. he’ll sometimes keep you under his spell for a few days, but it’s okay. you aren’t missing much anyways as you’d always voice how sad, cold, and lonely the palace feels without him.
malleus feels no guilt in commanding you to sleep. he thinks it’s a fair trade for the dreams he gives you. where you always receive a happy ending. with him, of course. with the hopes that those dreams will have you longing for the days to come.
malleus’ favorite dream to bestow up you was the one where you and him are in a cabin in the woods. especially the scene of two purple and onyx eggs cuddled up nicely in your arms. your back laid against his chest, your body almost sinking into his, almost like you were trying to steal the little warmth his reptilian blood possessed. or maybe, it was him whose arms were wrapped tightly around your body that was trying to keep you as close as possible.
malleus would think the roaring fire that sat not even a meter away would be enough to keep you both warm. not even the blankets in your shared bedroom seemed to quell the ice in your veins…
malleus would either read to the three of you, a new book each time- or, the two of you would discus baby names. brainstorming ideas to and new endings so you could continue the legacy of his ancestral names. he could never get tired of the way you referred to your little miracles; m&m. it was a candy from your home, you’d always explain, never failing to make his lips curl up in amusement.
malleus, who was warned that this marriage, this love was doomed from the very beginning. but he didn’t care, hadn’t fully considered your morality as there had to be a way to extend it… yet even lilia wasn’t able to escape death’s cynical clutches.
malleus who must always listen to your dreams, your hopes and excitement of the future, deep down knowing that it’ll never happen. that they’re never occur and never take fruition. and it frustrates him.
malleus who would send you into a deep slumber when he wrecked the castle, screams and wails of anguish echoing throughout the soulless walls of briar palace. was this how his grandmother felt? completely and utterly alone? her lover and daughter long gone as she was condemned to more pointless years of empty solitude. with not enough love for even him? her grandson.
is that how he’ll turn out? cold and alone?
insane?
not even sebek would last long. silver was on the same clock as you, both condemned to sleeping to stop the ticking hands of time that seemed to tick tick away.
malleus wanted a family, you knew that. biology be damned he’ll have his happily ever after with you. with every dream he can see the want growing inside you too.
malleus wants his, your children to at least know who the woman in the portrait is. he wants you to tuck them into bed, watch their first steps, and console them when the weight of your morality gets placed on their young shoulders.
malleus wants to scold them for breaking objects while you give him those big pleading eyes to ‘give them a break! they’re just learning how to walk in their human forms,’ malleus wants to catch the three of you baking cookies in the royal palace, he wants his children to sneak into meetings just to see him- only for you to be seen (and heard) trying to get them out without entering yourself. he would sometimes chuckle, imagining them hanging off of sebek like a ‘jungle gym’ (whatever that was) as the knight would do everything in his power to not move.
he wants you there to witness their changing from dragon to human, he wants to go through dragon teething with you as he knows it was a struggle for lilia alone. he wants them to draw on the old suffocating walls- only to be interrupted by your horrified gasp. scolding them for doing such a thing to the royal palace, only for him to be revealed as an accomplice. doodling away with them while critiquing and adding onto their drawings.
malleus wants to stress sebek out as he searches high and low for the king, who was miles away in a ruine with his family playing hooky. of course, not without a secret picnic basket and blankets.
he wants you on his back while he’s in his dragon form, his children struggling to fly at his speed as you take a family glide through the starry night just because.
he wants them to tell him that he was doing the right thing by timing out your death clock, saving a few minutes for tomorrow.
he wants you there when him and his future children go on diplomatic missions to other nations. he wants to enjoy the cuisine with you, the sights and views with you like that one college trip to the scalding sand. he already knows the words he’d tell that he failed to tell during that trip. that nothing will ever compare to the twinkle in your eyes or the beauty of your smile. he wants to hear his children’s groans and remarks of disgust as he spews poetry at you. kisses you. like it’s the last time he ever will…
there’s all these wants that he’ll never have.
he… hopes, his children will get their magic early- especially their unique magic in hopes that one of them can save you from your fate.
he wants a family portrait, with all four- or more, of you- this fully depending on how your body will deal with the trauma of the birth of your first born.
malleus curses the fates everyday for making his soulmate- his mate, mortal. receiving a human soul instead of a fae’s… it’s a cruel joke, he chalks up on night, when his temper was especially bad. when his thoughts were more pessimistic than usual. all because he spotted your first grey hair as you arrive in your early thirties.
malleus, who stands placid in the library, staring at the locked glass doors of the forbidden section. his fist clenches, then unclenches repeatedly- a war going on in his mind as he remembers his grandmother’s warnings of entering that room… of reading and using the contents of those books.
malleus scoffs, arrogance radiating from the young prince-king. his grandmother’s image flashes through his vision when his touches the door, sternly warning him of the cardinal sin that would be committed if he ever used the dark magic their ancestors created, used, and evidently locked away. she warned him, begged him to never feed into the whispers of their DNA, to never entertain the delusions that came with puberty and age. to learn about the world so he knows the natural order of things- the circle of life and death that he too, would one day be apart of…
malleus will have his happily ever after. he’s suffered so much already, doesn’t he deserve it?
the answer is yes. yet fate keeps continuing to deny him his right.
malleus deserves the happiness he never got to experience, family that he was robbed of all those years ago. and if he is to be condemned to tartarus for his misdeeds… then he will drag you down with him, forever together.
so sleep. dream your days away as malleus searches and scans the entire royal archives for spells or potion recipes that can fix this problem.
he promises the days will no longer bleed together, he promises you and silver- even sebek, will be able to stay awake for as long as him. he would give his soul to make sure the three of you stayed.
malleus will be there when you receive the news of your friend’s deaths. dropping like flies one by one as the years continue to pass. you will have each other when you stop reviving funeral invitations. he will be there for you when you look in the mirror, age not matching your appearance as you compare your hands to that of your friend’s corpses. you will truly have only him, and he hopes you will want to stay with him for as long as possible, just as he wishes.
he will take care of everything, so don’t fight it, okay? he will allow you to live different lives throughout each dream. illusion of free will at play since he will always be there, condemning you to the same love, same life, and same routine no matter where he places you.
he loves you… so very much.
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