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ahdraftingco · 1 year

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Oneshot: Trouble

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44157645

Summary: Ellie's gone. She ran away a while ago, after she discovered Joel's lie. It was a lie he had to make for his own sake because he couldn't handle losing her but still, he lost her. Now, he walks the wasteland alone, searching for purpose…and that's when he stumbles onto you. A bright, young woman who had gotten through the worst of it without losing her innocence to a world gone mad. If only you knew what was in store for you now that Joel has found a new person to latch onto…

Word Count: 8.2k+

A/N: As always, please read through ALL the warnings before proceeding: porn with plot, dead dove: do not eat (this story is not for the faint of heart so don't say i didn't warn ya), borderline non-con, dark!joel miller, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, age gap, use of the word "daddy"/"baby girl", bondage, forced orgasms, gunplay, praise kink, somnophilia, size difference, genuine fear/peril, death threats, cum play, rough sex, sexual coercion, squirting, breeding kink (unprotected piv, possible pregnancy/pregnancy talk), angst, mentions of violence, degradation, references to death

This fic will contain spoilers to TLOU Part One, so if you haven't played the game, please be aware that I will be referencing canon events. Hope you enjoy the sinister Joel I've made up and yes, I did based the physical description off Pedro Pascal's portrayal of Joel ~ ♡

It's been months since Ellie left Joel. He had gone out to look for supplies, since she had been sick. It wasn't until he got back and saw that she had taken up everything she could carry that he realized it had all been an act to let his guard down.

He had thought they were past what had happened at the hospital, since it's been almost five years, but the truth is…he knew what he had done was unforgivable. She was the cure. She wanted to die for the cause. She knew what she had to do but he was the one who wasn't ready to let her go.

This is the price he will pay for it.

It breaks Joel down more and more every day that passes as he scavenges the east coast, hoping he'll find clues of Ellie's whereabouts somewhere. Though, he taught her well, which meant he was almost certain she'd be hard to find.

If she's smart, which he knows she is, Ellie would've made it to the north before the winter began. That way, there's no chance of Joel ever catching up to her in the snow.

With a heavy sigh, Joel makes his trek up the state highway, weaving through abandoned cars. He'll be in New York soon. There once was a station there, but it quickly grew overcrowded and fell soon after.

Not enough food for people to eat, not enough protection for people to survive.

The infected would be roaming in the city, but Joel knew to avoid the densely populated areas. He didn't want trouble.

And yet, trouble always finds him.

Trouble had a name this time. Your name, though he didn't know it just yet.

Instead, as he watches you from a distance, Joel calls you baby girl in his mind, seeing how much younger you were than him. It was obvious you were older than Ellie though. You were an adult, a young one, but an adult all the same. It makes him wonder how you ended up here all alone.

You're humming to yourself, as if the thought of a threat nearby didn't phase you. It's a song he has heard before. Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks. He can almost hear the guitar riff, but it wasn't anything he could play.

However, at this moment, he wished he could.

Seeing you happily whispering the lyrics to yourself as you take down your laundry fills Joel with a kind of desire that taints his soul. It's dark and twisted, the way he wants to bottle up your joy and keep it all for himself.

How could you be so carefree in a world gone mad? It's as if no one has ever hurt you before.

Maybe…you didn't even know the infected existed.

That's impossible, but it looks like you're completely self-sufficient. You have a lake house and he can see the fishing equipment. You also have a garden with rotating crops that are growing well despite the incoming winter.

Who taught you to live life like this?

Peaceful, alone, without a care.

Joel is almost…disappointed. He'd imagine if anyone else had stumbled upon you, you'd be taken easily. You were like the easiest prey for a hungry predator, since you were clueless to the danger you could be in.

It makes Joel want to protect you…but it also makes him want to own you. There's an insatiable need to show you how much you need him to keep you safe, from people just like him.

So, that's exactly what he's going to do. Joel will make you his. He will weave himself into your life until you can't possibly live without him anymore.

That way, you'd never leave him like Ellie did…

❅❅❅❅❅

Today's catch went swimmingly, as it always does. You reeled in enough to have extra to dry into tasty jerky. Winter is approaching and you start to see your breath in the air, knowing that a storm is brewing. You'll have to start chopping some more firewood to store in the basement in case it's an extra cold winter. The temperature has been dropping every passing year, while the summers have gotten hotter.

You're thankful you won't have to think about summer preparations right now. Having to deal with those forest fires took up so much of your time. Winter is destructive as well, but at least it requires you to stay in instead of slave away all day.

Another winter alone, though. You let out a sigh at the thought. How long has it been since everyone you loved passed away?

You're tired of burying people…

Last month, you had to clean up the house a few miles down the lake. You hated having to do it, but your parents taught you well. The moment someone died, you needed to put them out of their misery or they'd fester and become worse creatures than the resurrected undead.

So, you put a bullet in their head and dug a grave for them. Then, you would spend hours rummaging through their house for any supplies before giving it a good thorough cleaning. It was your way of laying them to rest.

You'll miss that man though. Neither of you exchanged names, but you would trade fish for some of his pepper plants. Sometimes, he'd have canned goods for you that he had made himself. You still have some in your basement now. That'll help for the winter.

All these thoughts help you get through deboning your catch. You light up your wood fire stove so you can make a serving of stew and start the dehydrating process. It isn't until everything is in the pot that you register the rustling outside.

Is that the wind or…no, it can't be.

No one ever comes around these parts. It's so hidden by the trees that only an experienced person would think someone lives out here. That's sort of why your parents bought this house. It was secluded in the best kind of way, which aided a lot when everything went to shit. You were born here, raised here and will likely die here.

However, you weren't expecting that day to come so soon. Whoever is out there…they won't hurt you, will they? Your nerves heighten as you walk towards your door, debating if you should grab your gun.

You don't, because the person knocks.

It's a gentle knock, just three light taps. You calm down a little at that. You figure if it was a malicious person, they'd just break down your door. You haven't ever encountered a malicious person before, since you try not to believe everyone is bad. The people you know have all been kind, despite everything.

You hope this person will be the same.

So, you open your door and…

"Hello there." The older man at your doorstep says in his southern accent. "I was just passing through and I noticed you had a fire going. I don't mean to bother, but would it be alright for me to spend the night here, away from the cold?"

You look the man up and down. He doesn't seem like a threat, though he does have a rifle on his back and a pistol tucked at his belt. He's wearing a brown jacket with a flannel underneath along with several other layers that look like they're getting soaked through from the light snow that's starting already. He has a patchy beard with some grays in it along with soft brown hair that matches his eyes.

The man doesn't look intimidating, besides the weapons he's carrying.

So, you do what your parents had always done when people stumbled upon your little house and tell him, "you can stay the night if you agree to bury your weapons somewhere outside. There's a shovel out back. Choose any spot away from my garden, please."

"I will happily take that offer, thank you." His voice is smooth and gentle, so you ease up a little as you watch him leave to go fulfill your request.

The man returns later with just his bag and as a show of faith, he empties it at the doorstep so you can see what he has in it. You notice how few supplies he has, so you sift through your cabinets for some spare canned goods.

"You can have these." You bring them to him. "I've got plenty."

"You're very kind." He gives you a brief smile before taking the cans from you. "Are you always this welcoming to strangers?"

"I wouldn't call you a stranger. You're simply a traveler passing through. Nothing strange about that in our world."

You quickly leave after you say that to give him a change of clothes, since his are soaked and the spare in his bag doesn't look very warm.

"Would you like to use my bath?" You ask, pointing over at the bathroom down the hall. "I haven't heated any water, so it'll be a minute, but you can take a nice, warm bath if you'd like."

"That sounds wonderful." He seems pleased with your offer. "You're a very good girl, treating me with such hospitality."

"We all deserve some normalcy." You leave him with those words so you can go start the fire for the bath water.

It takes around half an hour to boil enough water in intervals, since your stove is quite small and you can only carry so much water at a time. Though, the man, who lets you know that his name is Joel, helps with that, lugging the pot of water back and forth for you until the tub is filled. You tell him to take his time and that dinner will be ready whenever he's done.

When Joel finishes his bath, he meets you in the kitchen and you pour him a bowl of stew, which you invite him to eat by the fire. You've already eaten your portion so you opt to spend time organizing stock since the storm is coming in stronger than you anticipated. You haven't harvested your winter vegetables yet and you should probably do that now before they get buried.

"Something on your mind?" That southern accent sounds close now and you look up to see Joel standing beside you, empty bowl in his hand. "Thanks for the stew, it was delicious."

You smile, taking it from him so you can quickly wipe it clean and set it aside. Then, you answer his question with a light sigh, "I didn't expect the snow to start falling so quickly. I need to go out and salvage what I can from my garden before I'm snowed in."

"Can I help with that?" Joel offers and you shake your head.

"I can't ask you to do that. You just bathed, plus you're my guest."

"I can always bathe again. You shouldn't be out there alone right now. Let me help." His voice has this tinge of leadership in it that makes you want to follow him, so you eventually agree.

"Alright. In exchange, you can have some of the harvest." You make him a deal.

"Can I ask for something else?" Joel catches you by surprise with that. "Would it be okay if I stayed here until the storm ended?"

"Oh…" He's right. If the storm has started already, he'd be stranded out there if you kicked him out tomorrow.

But, is it really smart to spend an entire storm with a man you've just met?

You can't let him trek through the storm though, so you tell him, "if you help me with some repairs around the house, then you can stay as long as you'd like."

"I'd like that." His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the evening is spent shoveling snow and pulling out as many vegetables as you and Joel can carry back and forth to the house before the storm gets significantly worse. You're both soaked head to toe and you're freezing once you both get back into the house. The fire isn't going to warm you up, so you'll definitely need a bath. But, you don't want Joel to get sick, so you offer to have him bathe first, but he declines, since you need to too.

"One of us is going to get sick waiting to bathe." You tell him as you start boiling the water for the bath.

"Then why don't we bathe together?"

Your ears must have been deceiving you and you turn to Joel, who is peeling off his soaked outer layer. He doesn't seem phased at all by what he just said but you're flustered.

"H-how would that work?" You're suddenly feeling warm all over, despite your shivering.

"It'll be like sharing a hot tub." He says with a chuckle. "Just keep your underwear on. I can keep my shirt on too, if you're more comfortable that way."

Now you're embarrassed for a whole other reason. Why did you just assume he meant getting into the bath with him naked? There's no way he'd ask that of you and you feel bad that you even thought such a thing.

"That would work. You don't have to keep your shirt on, but I think I will." You're too shy to be that bare in front of him, but keeping your shirt and underwear on is fine. He doesn't say anything else about it as you both start prepping the bath once again.

When it's ready, you realize there's another problem with this scenario. It's not all that big of a bath. How would you both fit?

"You'll just have to sit between my legs." Joel tells you while he strips. "I'll get in first and guide you into a comfortable position."

You let him take the lead, though you turn away when he pulls off his shirt and don't turn back until you hear him get into the bath. Then, you strip as quickly as you can, leaving yourself in just your shirt and underwear. Joel puts his hand out and you take it, letting him help you in. He has you sitting between his legs, with your back against his chest, and…it's oddly nice.

The bath water is very warm and your shirt rises a little since there's air under it, so you try your best to smooth it out, though that doesn't help much.

"Do you want to take it off?" Joel asks you, his warm breath tickling the back of your ear.

"I…" You would but… "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

You aren't the biggest fan of bras. They're only good when you're exercising or doing some heavy lifting and don't want your breasts to get in the way. So, you don't wear them regularly unless you feel the need to.

"I won't look." He rests his chin on your head. "I'll keep my eyes up so you can get comfy."

That would be nice. It's odd how easy things are around Joel because you feel like you can trust him to do as he says, so you opt to pull off your shirt, tossing it aside. It hits the floor, the wet sound echoing through the room. You adjust yourself so that your breasts are submerged beneath the water and when you tilt your head up, Joel has his lifted to the ceiling, not stealing any glances at you.

Though, it wasn't his eyes you should've been worried about. You hadn't noticed where his hands were resting until you felt one of them slide up to cup your breast and the other slips down into your underwear. You're about to say something but then Joel rolls his thumb over your nipple and you can't stop the light moan that leaves your lips at the sudden sensation.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?" He whispers right into your ear with such sultry affection. "Do you want daddy to keep touching you like this?"

Before you can reply, Joel presses a finger against your entrance and forces his way into you, making you gasp. Your toes curl when his finger does, filling you up so much out of nowhere. It's nothing like when you touch yourself and in combination with his other hand teasing your breasts, you can't hold in the soft whimpers from how good it feels.

You need to tell him to stop, but then he thrusts another finger inside of you and you cry out from how much he's stretching you out. You've never been this full before.

"You're so tight." That word lingers in the air and you're getting dizzy from his seductive tone. "Has no one ever touched you before?"

You shake your head, not knowing why you're able to answer him but not able to tell him to stop…

"Are you telling me this is all mine?" He pushes up against a spot inside of you with his fingers that makes your whole body shiver in reaction. "You're sucking me in, baby girl. I'm jealous of my own fingers."

There's so many questions you want to ask him, like why he's doing this to you and why it feels good even though you shouldn't want a random man you just met to touch you, but none of those questions can be asked when every breath you take is stolen by a moan or whimper.

Something's building inside of you, that tension you've only felt on occasion when you've been bored and masturbated. However, this is even more intense than those times, because you're not the one setting the pace.

Joel is aggressive with his touch, fingering you at a pace you wouldn't be able to. Then, every now and then, he spreads them, reminding you of how big his fingers are as they stretch you out.

You're on the cusp of your orgasm and that scares you.

Why are you about to cum from this?

Why aren't you stopping him!

"Don't hold it in." He urges you to let go. "Cum for your daddy."

You're not my—you can't seem to finish your own thoughts because he's forcing your orgasm onto you, his fingers ruthlessly grinding against that spot inside of you that makes you cum hard. You're thankful you're in the bath right now because you swore, you squirted for the first time. You've never came that much before, tears streaming down your eyes from the intensity of it.

The pleasure sears every inch of your skin, making it hotter than before and the steam from the bath isn't helping your mind calm down. You're getting lost in that daze and it's not ending.

Especially not when Joel keeps going and he adds another finger, spreading you wide open. You're gasping for air from how filled you feel and he must not like that because he takes his other hand and shoves his fingers into your mouth. You gag on them, not expecting to have his fingers invade your mouth, but he doesn't care that you feel that way.

Instead, he goes, "be a good girl and enjoy yourself."

You wonder how you're supposed to enjoy yourself when your mouth is as full as your pussy is but soon enough, you understand. Every moan you want to make is forced back down your throat by his fingers and it's hard to breathe like this but that just causes your body to tense up more around his fingers. They're hitting you so deep inside that you're going to cum again all too quickly.

You try to tell him to stop but your words come out all gurgled up from the saliva pooling up in your mouth since his fingers are playing with your tongue. You're practically drooling and you try to swallow, but that means you have to suck on his fingers to do so, which only riles him up more.

"That's good practice, baby girl." He encourages you to keep doing that to prepare yourself for something else. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this pretty little mouth and your tight wet pussy."

You're on the verge of tears again and you don't know if it's out of fear or arousal as you get closer and closer to your next orgasm. You don't want his cock anywhere near you but you realize then that he's been pressing his hard cock up against your back this whole time. If you thought his fingers filled you up, you were certain his cock would break you.

You start to panic, trying to shove his arm away from you so he can stop fingering you but that only angers him. So, Joel retaliates by pulling his fingers out of your mouth and wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing it hard.

"Don't make me kill you." He threatens and you go completely still. "I don't want to, but if you keep misbehaving, I will."

"Please…" You sob out of pure fear. "Don't hurt me."

"I would never want to hurt you. You're my precious girl, so don't make me do anything I don't want to, okay?" He lightens his hold on your neck then and you inhale as much air as you can, trying to find your composure. "You're going to cum for me again and then I'm going to take you to bed. Understood?"

You don't want to say it but he'll kill you if you don't so you nod and tell him, "I understand."

"Address me correctly when you're talking to me." His fingers press into your neck, as a little warning.

You swallow your nerves then go, "I understand, daddy."

"Good girl. Daddy likes it when you listen." He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, changing his tone all too easily. "Now, let me spoil my baby girl."

You brace yourself as his fingers curl their way back inside of you, going much more gently this time. Strangely, it's not enough to get you close. His pace is too slow, too soft, and you're trembling from how much you want him to be rougher with you.

"Say what you want." It's like he can read your thoughts. "Tell me and I'll do it for you."

You shouldn't say anything but your body is craving that feeling too much, so you give in and say, "more, please. I want more."

"Do you want me to go faster?" He asks as he does exactly that and you nod profusely. He suddenly slows though, so you know what you have to do.

"Yes, daddy, please go faster." You say what he wants to hear and he ramps up the speed again, giving you what you need. "Please don't stop, I'm so close…"

"I want to see it." Joel growls in your ear before you hear a pop and the plug in the tub is no longer in place. The water suddenly drains out rapidly and you stiffen at the cold air hitting your warm skin. "You better cum a lot for me."

You don't know what he means until he starts to move his fingers side by side inside of you and you squirt uncontrollably, screaming from how forceful he is at drawing your orgasm out of you. You can't think straight because you can't stop cumming, every orgasm gushing out of you against your will.

"Stop!" You shout because it's too much, you're too sensitive now and you're going to pass out. "I keep cumming, I keep–"

"That's good." He slowly corrupts you. "You want to keep cumming. You want to drown in the pleasure only I can give you. Enjoy it, baby girl."

And you do.

You hate how much you end up enjoying it, bathing in such bliss. It consumes you completely…and you faint somewhere along the way. You've never felt so good before. Your body can't handle it and you pass out from the high…

❅❅❅❅❅

Joel dries your hair for you while you're unconscious. He likes how peaceful you look, having fallen asleep to the orgasms he gave you. He wants you to look like this everyday and he'll make sure it happens.

A sweet girl like you deserves to be treated well.

Maybe that's why he can't resist touching you in your sleep. Joel watches as your chest begins to rise and fall more and more with every gentle stroke of his fingers. You're getting so wet for him now. He wonders what you're dreaming of and if he's in it.

He'd like to be. He wants you to only think of him. He's the only one that you need. He's the only one that matters. No one else will take you from him.

Joel refuses to make the same mistake twice. He loved Ellie like a daughter, raising her to be a strong woman. A woman strong enough to leave him in the dust because of a lie he made.

So, he has to be more careful with you. You're malleable, he's certain of that. You'll need some persuading, but you'll listen to him. First, out of fear, but eventually, out of love.

All he needs to do is tie you to him the only way he knows will work…by making you fall for him.

❅❅❅❅❅

It isn't until you wake that you realize your body is still heated from all the orgasms. You're aching from the waist down and you wonder why…until you see Joel between your legs, his tongue dragging up and down your pussy like he's starved for your taste.

How long has he been…you can't even formulate the sentence because he flicks your clit with his tongue and you squirt just a little from how overstimulated you are. A whimper leaves your lips because of it that draws Joel's attention to you and he smiles, happy to see you awake.

"How did you sleep?" His voice is so eerily calm…

You're unsure of how to answer that, so you ask back, "did you sleep?"

He nods. "I slept great, holding you in my arms."

"How long have I been asleep?" You're confused…

"A little over two days."

Your eyes widen at his words. Have you really been passed out for that long?

"Why are you down there?" If you've been asleep, why is he touching you?

"I needed to make sure whenever you were awake that you'd be nice and ready for me." He teases your entrance with three of his fingers before slipping each one inside of you slowly.

You brace yourself, expecting for the sudden stretch to hurt but…it doesn't. His fingers feel thick inside of you, but it's not anything you can't handle.

What did he do to you while you were asleep…

"You're almost ready for me, baby girl." His thumb presses lightly on your clit when he says that, sending shivers through you. "I've opened you up as best I could."

"Please, Joel…" You plead to him. "I don't want this."

"Your body says otherwise." He tells you as he curls his fingers and you nearly cum just from that. "See, you want this. Why are you running from it?"

"You're not giving me a choice." He's throwing himself at you and you're unable to stop him.

"I did give you a choice." Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the safety of your pistol flick off and Joel presses the barrel against your bare chest, right where your heart is. You only notice then that you're completely naked. "Either I kill you, or you enjoy my touch. I had assumed you'd chosen the latter, but if I'm wrong…"

His finger hovers over the trigger and you shake your head profusely, not wanting to die like this, not when his fingers are still teasing your insides. It's unbearable, the weight of the gun on your chest while his fingertips drag along that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

So, you succumb to the scenario you've found yourself in, "you're not wrong. I want this. I'll enjoy myself. I promise."

"Then, cum." He commands, keeping the gun steady on your chest. "Show me you're being honest."

You bite your lip and choke back your own dignity as you grind your hips against his hand, thrusting his fingers inside of you the way you need them to. You gasp when he starts to follow your rhythm, pushing you closer to the edge. It's a great distraction, because you barely notice the way he's trailing the pistol up your chest, but you're well aware of it when it brushes against your lips, forcing you to part them open.

Before you can beg him not to, Joel rests the barrel of the pistol in your mouth, the cold metal coating every one of your taste buds. You gag a little when he drags it against your tongue, but you can't focus on it while his fingers are inside of you. Tears start to stream from your eyes out of sheer terror and the most warped and frightening smile curves on Joel's face the moment he sees you.

That's when he undoes the safety of the pistol yet again and rests his finger on the trigger, his voice more menacing than ever as he goes, "cum for me right now or I'll blow your brains out, baby girl."

Every muscle in your body tightens at the threat and that's all it takes for the tension in your body to explode. You can't tell if you're screaming or moaning as your orgasm ripples through you violently, locking up every sense with nothing but pleasure. You can't feel, you can't see, you can't think.

All you can do is cum because that's what he wants from you.

Relief washes over you when Joel pulls the gun out of your mouth and tucks it away behind his back. His fingers release you from their hold and an empty feeling is tainting your mind. You've been so full for so long that it feels…wrong to be hollow.

How much has he corrupted you? How long is he going to stay until you're exactly what he needs you to be?

His baby girl…

You need to get out of here. You need to run. You need to fight Joel for your life back because you can't be his.

And yet, you can't find it in yourself to shove him away.

Not when he's whispering so softly to you, "good girl, that must've felt great. Let me make you feel even better now."

It isn't until you feel the tip of his cock press against your pussy that you snap back to the reality of it all. You're going to have your first time right now and he's going to fuck you raw.

The last bit of rationality courses through you as you plead, "please, don't do this. I don't have any condoms, I don't want to–"

"It's okay, darlin'." His southern accent sends shivers down your spine. "This is what you were meant for. This is what your body craves. Just let it happen and I'll take care of you."

You claw at his chest the moment he starts to force his way inside of you, his cock stretching you out more than his fingers did. You've never felt this kind of pressure before as he opens you up with every thrust. He doesn't like that you're trying to fight him, so the next time you shove at him, he smacks you right across the face. You gasp at the feeling and he pushes more of himself inside your swollen pussy then, smiling.

"You're so tight and yet you're taking every inch of me." Joel suddenly grabs you by your hair, pulling you forward so you can stare at the way his cock is slowly disappearing inside of you. "Almost there, just a bit more."

"Let me go." You cry out, wanting him to take his hand out of your hair. "Please, it hurts."

"Grab onto the headboard and I will." He makes you a deal and you listen, wrapping your hands around the metal.

His hand leaves your hair, letting your head drop back onto your pillow, and you relax just a bit. It doesn't last though, not when he pulls out a piece of fabric from his pocket and binds your wrists.

"Now, hold on tight, baby girl." His hands rest at your hips now, gripping your flesh. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

You don't understand what he means until he pulls his cock out of you and rams it back inside, hilting all of a sudden. He's too deep, too big and all too much for you.

You try to say something but he raises his hand at you before you can, instructing, "if you want to speak, you better address me correctly or I will have to teach you a lesson."

You swallow at his threat, your throat going dry. Goosebumps rise on your skin and you're scared to say anything but you want him to be gentle. He'll break you if he keeps being this rough.

So, you stuff your pride away and beg, "please go slowly, daddy."

His smile softens then, liking how you've listened, and he rewards you by rolling his hips, letting you get used to him being inside of you, grinding himself back and forth against every spot that makes your pussy tingle.

It's starting to feel good and that's frightening because you're biting back your whimpers. You can't enjoy this. It's wrong. He's taking you by force and yet your body is desperate enough to meet him halfway, wanting more.

"Does my baby girl enjoy being fucked?" Joel adjusts a bit so that he can thrust upwards into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "Tell me you do."

You keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say a word, and he doesn't like that at all. So, when you're right at the cusp of your orgasm, he pulls out of you, leaving you struggling against your restraints.

"If you want it, say it." He starts to rub his hard cock against your pussy, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of it. It's torture because it's not enough to get you there.

You need more. You need him inside of you.

Joel takes his time to torment you, dipping into you just a bit before pulling out, dropping his cock over and over again on your pussy, rubbing circles around your clit.

Eventually, you can't handle the denial anymore so you cave and go, "please fuck me. I want to cum."

"Say it again." He wants you to embarrass yourself further and your skin burns from it.

"I want to cum. Please fuck me. I need you, daddy." You add on, hoping that's enough.

It is, because the moment he thrusts inside of you, you cum. You cum all over his cock and he rewards you by fucking you harder, making your orgasm even more intense. You're gasping for air because it doesn't seem to stop. You're throbbing inside and every thrust sends such waves of pleasure through you.

"You're milking my cock so well." He praises you. "Someone's desperate for my cum."

Your eyes widen when you realize he must be close from the way he's pumping into you and you panic, "please cum outside, don't cum in me."

"How am I supposed to cum outside when you're not letting me go?" He tries to pull out but your pussy is gripping onto him too tightly.

"No, don't, please." You can't get pregnant. You can't have a baby with a man you've just met. You can't…but he won't let you decide otherwise.

"You'll feel so much better once you're all filled up." Joel reassures you in the worst way possible. "Soon, you'll beg for it."

There's no way you would. Why would you ever want such a thing?

"Enjoy it." He says sweetly to you, looking at you with such affection. "We won't be able to fuck much when you're pregnant, so it's best to make every time count."

You want to ask why he wants you of all people, a random girl he met in the middle of the woods in the winter, but you're certain he won't have an answer. Perhaps this was all just bad timing and even worse luck.

It doesn't feel like much at first, when he finishes inside of you. It's hot and it spills out of you when he pulls away. Joel takes his time, pushing as much cum as he can back inside of you. You hate the orgasms you have from that simple action.

It isn't until the second time that it feels…primal. You can't explain it, but when he's fucking you like a feral animal, you find yourself leaning into it. Your body isn't in tune with your mind anymore. It's not listening to your pleas because it knows it feels good to be taken by him. He never hurts you unless you do something he doesn't like, which is rare. He only ever wants you to feel pleasure.

Days go by of this, of just…constant breeding. You will sleep, then wake up, fuck, have breakfast, fuck, have lunch, fuck, do house chores then fuck in the shower afterwards, then eat dinner which always ends with you bend over the dining table because you're the meal he's actually hungry for. This cycle repeats until you get your period.

The disappointment on Joel's face stings. It's like you failed him. You couldn't give him what he wanted. You don't like the feeling…but a tiny voice in your head reminds you that you shouldn't want to please him anyways.

During your period, Joel teaches you how to suck his cock, since he can't fuck you. As a reward for learning, he caters to you, helping you with your cramps, rubbing your belly when it aches, cuddling you like you're the love of his life. It's…jarring, to say the least. You'll go from him fucking your face to him caressing your back and whispering sweet words to you.

Run. That tiny voice yells into the abyss that is your mind right now. Run far away from here.

You want to listen but…where would you go? You grew up here. You don't know anywhere else. This is your home and he's the intruder.

An intruder who's making himself at home.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" Joel asks because you've tensed up against him, your thoughts influencing your nerves.

"A little." You lean into his chest, not because you want to, but because he's warm and the winter has been cold. "I'll be okay."

"You'll always be okay, baby girl." He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, taking in a long breath before saying, "I'll keep you safe."

Safe from who? You wonder, because you aren't safe from him…

❅❅❅❅❅

Another month passes and you're late. You counted the days, mainly because Joel made you, and you're late. You've never been late before, which can only mean…

"We won't know for sure, but we can find out." You suggest. "There's a convenience store a few miles up. There's no food there, but there's plenty of pregnancy tests. I remember seeing them."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, hoping he'll take the bait. Please say yes.

You need to get him away from your house. You need to kill him but you can't do it here. You need to do it somewhere he isn't familiar with.

A place where you know a gun is hidden.

"Better to be sure." Joel agrees to the trip. "But you're coming with me."

"Okay." You knew you'd have to. "I'd like to walk with you. It's a nice hike, now that the snow has melted."

The rest of the day is spent preparing for the day trip. When it's finally time to sleep, you're surprised to feel Joel's cock harden behind you as he spoons you. He rubs himself against you and you hate how your body reacts to it, leaning into the feeling.

"Just to be sure." He whispers to you and you know what he means. He doesn't have to say much else.

You feel him nudge you until you're on your hands and knees and he's situated behind you, pulling down your pajama pants. Joel lines his cock up at your entrance and in one single motion, he fills you to the very brim. You can't hold in your moan, not when his body is pressing down onto you, engulfing you completely as he starts to pound into you.

"How does it feel to be mine, my sweet baby girl?" He asks, his hips meeting your ass perfectly.

"So good." You don't lie because you know it'll be the last time you do this with him. "Please don't stop, daddy."

"Never." He says, grabbing you by your hair so that he can kiss the back of your head. "I wouldn't dream of letting you go."

With his hand still in your hair, Joel continues to fuck you from behind, tugging you back to meet him. His lips on yours are sloppy, but you kiss him back, feeling connected with him on all levels. Your body moves against his in perfect harmony and you drown in the moment

It isn't until he whispers the words "I love you" that your heart pinches just a bit, remembering the reality. You're going to kill him tomorrow, this man who loves you in a sick and twisted way.

"Fill me up." You whisper back, giving him something else, since you can't give him your love. "I need you, Joel."

That's enough for him to finish inside of you, the heat spilling into you in waves. His cock pulses inside of you for a few moments before he pulls out and lays back beside you.

You go back to the way you were laying before, and he spoons you to sleep. You wonder what it'll feel like to sleep alone, now that you've slept with someone for this long.

You're going to miss it…maybe even him too…

❅❅❅❅❅

Now that the snow has thawed, the ground is much less muddy. You still had to wear your boots, which aren't uncomfortable but they're harder to run in. You don't think you'll need to run but…you want to stay prepared.

Joel tells you a bit more about himself on the walk to the convenience store. You're unsure if you want to know more about the man you're about to kill, but you can't refuse him, so you listen.

You don't expect him to tell you about Sarah…but now everything makes sense. Perhaps, he's been waiting for a chance to make things right. To raise a child who won't end up dying in his arms and leaving him forever.

You clutch your stomach when he's not looking, scared of your own mind. Scared that the tiny voice in your head is now whispering guilty thoughts…

You can't. It's not reasonable to have a child in a world like this. Especially not with a man like him.

You say that, but Joel has warped you in a different way. You won't lie and say you won't miss him when he's gone. It's hard not to miss someone you've spent the last two months getting to know in more intimate ways than two normal strangers would.

As a war breaks out in your mind, you and Joel get to the convenience store. The front glass is shattered, but it's always been like that. Looters at the very beginning of it all broke it, which is why there's moss going on the shards that were left behind. That's what your parents told you.

You miss them more and more with each passing day. They were well-prepared to have you, knowing they've set up a little oasis in the middle of disaster.

You can't have this child with Joel. You're ill-prepared to be a mother. You're unsure if Joel would even be a good father, even if he claims that's all he wants to be.

Would a good father taint someone else's daughter the way he has tainted you?

You hold back your sigh as you and Joel walk over the glass to get into the store. It's a small store, so it's not difficult to find what you're looking for. You wonder if these will even work, since they probably have an expiration date, but you just have to know.

For your own sake, more than Joel's.

Once you've packed a fair amount of pregnancy tests into your bag, you tell Joel that you've stashed some canned goods behind the counter in the off chance you might get stuck out and about, and you wanted to check if they were still there. It's not a lie, but you stashed a gun there too.

So, you go to the floorboard you hid everything under and pull it open and—

The sound of a gun's safety flicking off freezes you in your tracks. You swallow, hard.

Fuck, did Joel figure it out? You're too frightened to look up, scared that you'll be staring into the barrel of a gun.

But then, a new voice appears and she goes, "step away from her, Joel."

You glance up then and your eyes meet the girl's for a second. She's young, maybe barely eighteen, and yet she wields the gun you had hidden in the floorboards like she's used to handling them. That thought should worry you, but you're more worried about how she knows Joel.

Did he…do something to her too?

"Ellie, please." Joel pleads, his hands up. "Don't take her away from me."

"I know what you did to her." Ellie has her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot him. "I saw what she put in her bag."

"She's pregnant. We're going to be a family." He tries to reason with her. "Come back with us. We have a home. You'll have a little brother or sister soon. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"You're sick, Joel." She gestures for you to come over to her and even though Joel's eyes pierce into yours to stop you, you still make the trek over to her. Once you're securely behind her, she continues her harsh words to Joel, "you don't know what it means to be family. Family wouldn't do this, wouldn't do the things you've done."

"I can change. I can do better. I'm sorry."

You've never seen Joel so weak before. The once scary man that held you captive is now cowering before this girl.

"Sorry won't bring them back." Ellie tells him and you wonder what she means by that. "So, don't come looking for us. I'm taking her and I'm leaving now."

"Please, don't take her." He begs, his voice cracking as he goes, "I love her."

You open your mouth to say something, but Ellie stops you. Maybe she knows what you're about to say, or maybe she just doesn't want you to say it back to him. Not that you would…right?

"This isn't love, Joel." She tells him for you. "Whatever this is…it sure as fuck isn't love. I'm sorry. You did this to yourself."

The moment those words leave her mouth, she shoots Joel. You cover your ears at the sudden sound as it echoes through the quiet.

You hear Joel scream and you realize then that Ellie didn't shoot him in the head. She shot him in the leg, so he couldn't catch up to you two.

"We have to go, now." She grabs your hand and you both start to run.

Run, that voice comes back in your mind, run and don't look back.

❅❅❅❅❅

You and Ellie take a break once you're a good distance away from the convenience store. You give her some of your water, since it looks like she's low on supplies. She asks you about what happened and…you tell her. Not in full detail, but enough.

"That fucker." She seems angry at Joel for more than just what he did to you, but you won't pry about what exactly.

"Who is he to you?" You ask Ellie, wanting to know that instead.

"He's trouble. The kind of trouble I need the strength to take care of before he hurts anyone else…" She says, the anger leaving her voice as a sadness seeps in, "but I'm not strong enough yet. I couldn't kill him…but I will one day."

You can tell she doesn't want to, and you understand why. You might be the only one out there who understands her because you feel the same way.

There's no way Joel isn't looking for you two.

So, your journey with Ellie begins. You're both on the run from Joel, but also finding the will to hunt him too. All while wondering if he's imprinting himself onto you the way he wanted to.

You press your hand on your stomach and chills run through you.

You should've known Joel was trouble the moment he walked through your front door…

A/N: I've always wanted to write a villain!joel since I feel like it actually fits his character a lot, if he was given the right set of circumstances. I also am a big fan of the "I need to kill him before he kills me" trope, but with a twist! The addition of Ellie in this part makes me really happy and gets my mind rolling. The latter half of this one-shot is very plot-heavy, which is new for me but I kind of like it? It really builds up to a possible sequel! So, if you're interested in a sequel, please let me know! This really does have the potential to be a whole series ♡

#the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us

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verysium · 6 months

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『02』原神: genshin impact recs

魈: xiao

preta by @itoshisoup

"People think that ghosts are born exclusively of resentment, but they can also be born of love. Between those driven by resentment and those driven by love, which do you think cling most strongly to their suffering?" Xiao replies without pause, his gaze unfocused yet fixed upon something you cannot see. "Love." After a yaksha saves your life on the Plains of Guili, you insist on joining him in his war against the evils of Liyue. As the two of you encounter hungry ghosts and resentful spirits, you learn about the ones haunting him. notes: incomplete but intricately woven together; heavy emphasis on chinese culture, wuxia/xianxia genres; if you have watched any historical cdrama, you will like this fic; xingqiu and chongyun are wrapped up into the dynamic; xiao wishes to protect you for centuries; him and his paradoxes; not being strong enough to be considered invincible but still strong enough to try

公子: childe

thin ice by @falconcoast

childe is that senior frat boy on teyvat university’s campus. the one who majors in economics because he’s on scholarship to play sports. the one who is way too loud and you can hear him all the way across campus. the one who’s daddy’s money rich because he’s already sponsored, even while just in the ncaa. the one who manages to get everyone to swoon over him. oh, right. and your favorite title for him: the one hockey captain who hogs all of your free time to skate after lessons because he always steals it. all you want to do is do your job and teach skating lessons to the kids to keep your mind off the year-old mess with your figure skating, maybe even get an hour of skating in afterwards as a reward. that is, until the hockey coach sits you down and tells you that surprise! you’re the new team manager for liyue’s hockey team! ...it can’t be that hard to manage twenty or so boys and their captain, childe, right? spoilers: it absolutely is. notes: wonderfully curated modern skating/hockey AU; childe is so american white boy in this; teucer being adorable; diluc and kaeya sibling dynamic is well-established; university and post-grad plans; figuring out your life and then working other people into it

国崩: scaramouche

tea screen by @after-witch

The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers? notes: forced marriage and abuse; tea ceremony; sort of reminds me of the edo period; examination of womanhood within a patriarchal society; sexy, sad, and scary all at once; i pity the reader at the end; cycle of love and violence

a simple cup of tea by @after-witch

You have to be prepared and poised and perfect. But it’s hard to be all those things, even with the looming threat of your husband sitting next to you, when you’ve got a secret hidden underneath your clothes... notes: reader grapples with lust and objectification; unhealthy dynamic but portrayed realistically in an almost historical setting; reader is unable to separate her identity as wife apart from her husband; women being defined in the context of men; could be a social satire on traditional gender roles if you squint

love is a dog from hell by @itoshisoup

"A will is something you don't have. That's why you'll follow mine." notes: this fic is the reason why i do not think the concept of ownership in love would translate well into real life because it would be so self-destructive; reader struggles with aftermath of abuse and mistakes possession for protection; realistic depiction of unhealthy relationships; the fatui is exactly the dark criminal organization it is supposed to be; human trafficking and child sexual abuse; scaramouche is so goddamn funny i can't

钟离: zhongli

spoil of war by @bye-bye-sunbird

In the dead of night, you hear the sea calling your name. Sometimes the sound is as soft as a love song, gracing your skin in a gentle breeze that lures you to the seashore where the waves can finally lay claim on you. Other times, the sea strikes the land in a deafening, challenging roar. "Really now... How long do you think those mountains of his will stand in my way?" notes: accurate depiction of characters because archon war morax was genuinely terrifying; zhongli trying to deny his obsessive tendencies; rivalry with osial; reader is essentially sanctified as a symbol of innocent purity; imagine having two spiritual gods pine after you while you are helplessly stuck in the middle of their tug-of-war and simultaneously trying to mourn; that is basically the entire premise of this fic

迪卢克: diluc ragnvindr

the parent trap by @falconcoast

twelve years ago, you got married to a man who had swept you off your feet in a little under two years. diluc was like a prince out a of storybook; effortlessly charming, strikingly handsome, and a kind man. you were supposed to live happily ever after at that winery, running a wedding planning empire, having a family, and growing old together. until it all goes off script with a divorce. flash forward, and the only remnant of diluc that is with you is your daughter, dawn. the only piece of you that remains with diluc is your other daughter and dawn’s twin sister, phoenix. it isn’t until both of your children get you and your ex-husband in a bit of mess that you realize that maybe, just maybe, you still harbor feelings for diluc. or maybe it’s the wine talking. notes: one of my favorite comfort fics; i am a sucker for second-chance romance; diluc and reader now older but still being the same bumbling idiots they were when young; at this point the children have more situational awareness than them; based on the original movie; treat yourself to a cup of tea and a friday night with this work and trust me life will be good

博士: il dottore

deus in absentia by @bound-in-parchment

The first time was a coincidence. The second time was a fluke. But the third time? You were starting to think it was fate. Or, more likely, a calculated trap. notes: at this point we can just scrap whatever mihoyo puts out and use this work as canon instead; the world building is so originally creative; this author must possess such a giant sexy brain; reader is basically adopted by dottore and forced to be his apprentice/assistant; idea of losing yourself to your own ambitions; slow-burn to the max; reader is oblivious to full extent of feelings until it is too late; tragic to the point i need a time machine to resurrect them

dream a little of me by @bound-in-parchment

Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. notes: soulmate trope but with the two most aromantic fools to ever exist; zandik drowns himself in the river of denial; comic dynamic between segments; music and failed dreams; reader actually has a backstory dark enough to match dottore's character; does not shy away from the uncomfortable and gritty aspects of trauma, abuse, and literal mental insanity

chemistry / magnum opus by @jessamine-rose

In the realm of science, love and insanity are closely intertwined mysteries. Disillusioned with the world, you had long forgotten its beauty until the wise doctor gives you a change of perspective. notes: by far the most accurate characterization of akademiya zandik; he hates you then hates himself then hates the world for allowing your paths to cross; treats you as an objective experiment but then wonders why he's suddenly humanizing you; slow-burn; zandik is selfish and machiavellian and somehow you fit into that equation

the only hope i had was the freedom of death by your hands that held me together by @tiens-letters

It was a burden. The weight of the power you hold in all the land. Any human who has enough ambition would dare to covet it and any god even given divine powers would lust after it. You were powerful, able to end civilizations and make a new world altogether. Many would think that you are a sovereign being but you too are limited to mortality than what most would believe. You were human with a blessing of a god and you felt cursed and dirty. notes: honestly the ending made me so mad but take it as a good sign; basically entails the circumstances that would drive dottore to become somewhat capable of love; what is done cannot be undone; zandik finally meeting someone who is wiser and more depressed than him; deluding himself into thinking he could ever be domestically normal; somewhat idolizes/idealizes reader; themes of betrayal and misunderstanding

富者: pantalone

house cat / alea iacta est by @jessamine-rose

Your entire life has been a gilded cage. The gods refuse to grant your greatest wish, and so you have resigned yourself to the will of destiny. But what happens when the red string of fate is severed and replaced with the silver chains of the Regrator? notes: liyue nobility; dishonest business and financial deals; reader is a cat hybrid but i didn't notice until part two because the plot was so good; pantalone is the mastermind behind all his interactions with reader; heavy manipulation and orchestrations; wolf in sheep's clothing; alternate ending found here

隊長: il capitano

herbarium / fairytale / forget-me-not / astilbe by @jessamine-rose

You had long given up on wishes and happy endings. After what you believed to be the end of your tragic story, you resigned yourself to a shadow of a life with only your books and flowers to keep you company…until the vestiges of Windblume brought forth a mysterious stranger and a new ending for your dark fairytale. notes: capitano being the strong stoic protector of a delicately fragile reader; manipulation is so subtle and that is what makes it alarming; somewhat stirred my daddy issues because he is so parental; reader struggles between accepting his love versus hating him for taking away her personal agency; flower motifs

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gingernut1314 · 4 months

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Truth or Dare?

Nami x GN!Reader

Summary: When you fall heavily injured, you resort to the familiar game of truth or dare to let Nami know how you feel about her.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, anime spoilers (Whisky Peak Arc, Alabasta Arc; episodes 117 and 118)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I've been going through a little bit of writer's block recently so sorry for being so inactive, but I've wanted to write this for a little while so here it is! This is my first time writing for Nami so I hope you all enjoy!

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“Truth or dare?” You breathed out in a voice just below a whisper. Nami pulled her blue eyes up from what she had been doing and locked onto yours. Blue eyes that had begun to water--that never filled with tears unless something was truly wrong.

And that something wrong being the gaping gash dealt to your stomach by that spiky, spider woman that had been chasing you both through the streets of Alubarna.

Nami shook her head full of orange hair, which you wished to run your fingers through its short length. The golden hair clip she had just bought must have fallen out while you two had been fighting for your lives.

You watched her try to steal herself against the fear you had no doubt was waging within her and found you wished she would show you her fear--show you every emotion she was feeling in that moment so you could properly care for her.

“No.” She said firmly.

“No?” You questioned with a chuckle that turned into a hissing wince when Nami pressed her hand tighter over your wound, trying desperately to slow the bleeding. “You can’t say no. That’s the rules.” Nami shook her head again more forcefully.

“Well, I’m changing the rules. I’m not going to play this game when--” Her voice quivered, those vast eyes that always reminded you of a crystal blue lake shining in the sunlight nearly overflowing with tears. Tears for you.

You remember when you had first seen her lake-blue eyes. First took in their utter depths.

You had been a Broquet Works agent based in Whiskey Peak--had been assigned to kill off the Straw Hats with the other agents stationed in that town. Had been ready and more than willing to help kill them off, but then you had seen those eyes--so bright and calculating--and knew instantly it would be a more difficult task than you had originally thought.

You had been the first to greet the woman, besides the likes of Mr. 8. Had made an utter fool of yourself in doing so, but you hadn’t cared because she had laughed at your horrible and flirty jokes. Had outdrank you without so much as breaking a sweat and it enthralled you.

She had won over your heart with just a few laughs and witty quips. Had won you over so much so that you had turned your back on your organization, despite knowing your death would be painful and bloody. You guarded over her and her passed-out crew after dark. Had protected her despite the horrendous wounds you had received from your fellow agents.

After much convincing, you had been allowed to join the Straw Hats on their journey to Alabasta under the rouse of wishing to help protect the recently revealed princess from other-like Broquet Works members. Though, that was far from the truth.

You and Nami had started this game of truth or dare when you had made it to Little Garden. You, Nami, and Usopp had been wandering around in the jungle when you had offered the familiar question her way.

She had still been very distrustful of you then, but she had humored you. At some point during your voyage through the Grand Line, you think she stopped merely humoring you and began actually enjoying the game. Enjoyed it so much she had begun starting before you could get the chance.

You played the game on nights neither of you could sleep. During boring and long days of endless sailing. You had played it when she fell sick and when you were injured yet again by some horrible king on a snowy island.

It was how you managed to grow closer to her. To learn of her haunting childhood and near enslavement to that horrid Fishman from the East Blue. It’s how she had learned your real name and your own haunting childhood.

And you had fallen stupidly for her. Had probably fallen for her the moment you laid eyes on her. Anyone else in Whiskey Peak would have called you foolish for giving up everything you had worked for just to follow some woman who might never like you back, but you didn’t care.

You would do it over and over again. Would get beaten down, stabbed, and shot at all over again because you couldn’t imagine your life without the strong-willed, fiery-tempered, and kind-hearted woman kneeling next to you.

“Come on, sunshine. Please?” You asked, pulling a playful smirk to your lips that Nami wouldn’t meet.

“Fine. I dare you to shut up and not die.” Nami hissed, those pools of blue spilling over her cheeks despite her angered gruff at it. You chuckled, wiping away one of those hot trails from her slightly sunburnt cheeks.

“I was hoping to say a truth.” Nami shook her head once more, pulling away from your grasp. She looked away from you, turning to peek her head out of the large hole in the brick townhome you two had hidden away in. “Nami--sunshine--”

“Stop.” She hissed, whipping her burning gaze back onto you. “Stop it. You can’t break the dare until I say so, so shut up.” Another stray tear fell over her dirty, scratched-up cheeks.

“If you get to bend the rules today, I think I get to bend them too--just a little bit.” You said, trying to keep your tone light despite the darkness of your situation. Nami gave a frustrated little sound that came out sadder than you think she had wanted it to.

“You’re not going to die.” She insisted, telling you like it was a fact. And maybe it would turn out to be fact, but at the rate you were losing blood and the knowledge that Chopper was probably miles away made it seem less likely to happen. You kept your playful smirk on your lips as you grabbed for her hand, holding it gently.

“Ask me why I paid you all that berry to board your ship.” More tears streaked down her cheeks, her bottom lip sucking into her mouth to keep from letting any sort of sound escape her. She shook her head again and you chuckled, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

“I didn’t care about getting Vivi here safely. I didn’t care that I was turning my back on my work and that I was signing my own death warrant. I didn’t care because I was following you. I wanted to be by you.”

“Stop.” Her voice came out watery. So small and weak. She was begging you. Begging you to just shut up like she had dared you to and get better.

But you wanted her to know--needed her to know.

“It's the only reason I started this stupid game in the first place. I wanted to know you better.” You said on a laugh that turned wincing as another wave of pain washed through you. Nami went to try and stop you from speaking again, but you beat her to it. “And I--I like you. I like your laugh and your eyes and your smile. I like watching you talk about your maps because you are just so passionate about them. Hell--I only pretend to hate reading to get on your nerves 'cause you look too cute all mad.” Nami huffed a small, saddened laugh.

“You shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to make you read all my books now.” You nodded, allowing her to keep hoping for the future after this. Allowed yourself, for just a second, to do the same. To think about you laying your head in her lap as she read you one of the many books in her collection.

“You’re--you’re really special to me.” You felt your own eyes begin to sting. Felt your throat tighten against the swell of emotion rocketing through you. “And I want you to know that. You--you’ve made me a better person…saved me from my darkness.”

Nami moved herself closer to you, sniffing back her tears. You gladly allowed her presence into your atmosphere--allowed her to lay her forehead on yours. Closing your eyes, you took in her warmth and the smell of that overly expensive perfume you had bought her the other day in the marketplace.

You brought your blood-covered hand up to caress her cheek, holding her closer. Holding her for a moment that might very well be the last.

Fight it. You needed to fight it. Fight to stay alive--for her.

The chilling sound of Miss. Doublefinger's voice calling for you both echoed through the deserted street you were on. Nami tensed against your hold, eyes snapping open in fear.

You needed to protect her.

You needed to keep her away from that woman…but you could hardly feel your legs, let alone move with the amount of pain you were in. But you would do it--you would crawl and let that spider trap you like some fly. Let her strike you down just to give Nami enough time to run and find the others.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Okay?” Nami said and you watched her push her sadness and fear down. Watched her pull that confidence and courage she held within herself, whether it be fake or true, up.

Painc, rapid and tight, shot through your chest.

“What? No--”

“Truth or dare?” She asked, pulling her forehead from yours. You shook your head as she moved your hands to place them over your wound.

Tears did fill your eyes then. Tears of fear for her. Because you knew Nami could handle herself, but even you had fallen prey to that spider’s sting. You had made peace with death a long time ago, but you had hardly made peace for her. Wanted death far, far away from her.

“Nami--” You started, pulling out of her guiding movements to grab hold of her wrist, keeping her from leaving. “I’m supposed to protect you. I want to protect you. Whether I die--”

“Truth or dare?” She insisted strictly, leaving you speechless.

“Truth.” She smiled through her sadness and fear.

“How long do you think Usopp's weapon is going to hold against her?” You huffed, pulling yourself off the wall Nami had leaned you against, spying the blue, three-pieced metal staff strapped to her hip.

“A minute--if it doesn’t break before you even get a chance to use it--which is why I’m going out there and not you.” You insisted just as strictly.

“Truth or dare?” Nami asked once more, dismissing your continued denial of her fighting that spider.

“Nami--” She fixed you with a strict look that had you huffing in frustration.

“Pick dare.” You furrowed your brow in confusion at her. “Come on, pick. She’s getting closer.” You huffed. And huffed again before giving in to her request.

“Dare.”

“I…” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, something like nerves filling her eyes. “I dare you to kiss me.” Your mouth fell open to speak--to keep fighting to keep her from leaving your side--but Nami gave you that confident smile of hers as she brushed her blood-covered fingers over your cheek. A touch you unconsciously lend into. “Are we still bending rules?” You huffed a laugh that fell just as quick.

She leaned in, her deep, blue eyes searching your own. Eyes that, though still held that fear in them, were calm. Ready--sure and steady. Eyes you had fallen in love with over and over again.

You pulled her closer by the wrist you still held, your other hand cupping her cheek to guide her lips against yours. Lips you had wished to kiss ever since she had first laughed at your bad joke. Lips that were sweet, yet just a little chapped from the desert sand that had been thrown at you like a weapon earlier that day.

It was a kiss you pressed all your love into. A kiss you used to try and communicate every last little adoration you held to her. A kiss you prayed would keep her from leaving you--to keep her from facing death.

Nami pulled away all too soon, her soft breaths brushing over your cheeks as she rested her forehead against yours. She kept her eyes screwed shut, fresh tears having sprung to life beneath her bare eyelids.

“Plea--please don’t go. I’m okay. I’ll keep you safe.” You tried, but Nami shook her head, her eyes opening once more. She removed your hand from her cheek and replaced it over your wound, making it sting in the process.

“You’re not okay and if you face her again, she’ll kill you. Just--stay here. I’m going to find help.”

Click, click, click went Miss. Doublefinger's heels as she passed by the row of townhouses you two were hidden in. You both held your breathes as the clicking grew more faint with each passing second. Seconds you spent taking in her face--such a beautiful face you hadn’t looked at nearly as much as you should have.

“Don’t--” Nami cut you off with one last kiss. A kiss that was meant as a bitter-sweet promise. A promise of her return to you--though a return to you how and in what shape was unknown. A big unknown that pulled at your heart and had you holding her wrist tighter.

“I dare you to stay put--no more bending the rules,” She said, giving you her best confident smile and wink as she grabbed for the strange weapon Usopp had built her, called the Clima-tact.

“Nami--” But she pulled from your fingers as she snuck away out of the townhome, leaving you utterly alone with the dark and dust.

The sound of buildings crashing, people screaming, and the wind howling only made your fear grow and grow with each passing minute. Had you gritting your teeth against your pain and dragging yourself from the spot Nami had left you in.

That had been a very bad decision on your part because as soon as you made it to the exit, your vision began dotting with black. Black that filled your eyes and left you in a blinding sea of pitch-black pain.

Your vision returned, though rather foggy, with the feel of gentle fingers caressing your cheeks. Orange hair and lake-blue eyes shined down at you like some angel--gods she was a sight to see, even covered in dirt as she was.

“I said no more bending the rules.” Nami huffed, eyes watching you narrowly before looking behind herself to call for Zoro, who she must have found while you were passed out.

“You’re hurt.” You said, running a shaky finger over her shoulder, having spotted the fresh blood on her sunkissed skin. Her blue eyes found yours again, though softener than they had been. More--fearfilled.

“She was--strong. Scary. But you were wrong.” You furrowed your brows up at her as Zoro’s tall shadow fell over you both, blocking the sun from your blurry eyes.

“Wrong? That she was a bitch? No.” Nami rolled her eyes, an amused huff of air leaving her.

“No. The Clima-tact lasted longer than a minute. It took her down.” She said, pointing towards a smoking townhouse that had a strange, Miss. Doublefinger-sized hole in its side.

“Truth or dare?” You breathed, looking back up to Nami who was already watching you.

“Dare.” She smirked, a laugh spilling from your chest as you grabbed her neck in a gentle hold, pulling her down to claim her lips against yours. She kissed you back eagerly. A kiss that fulfilled the silent promise she had given you earlier.

You heard Zoro gruff something about not having time for this, which only spur Nami to pull away, pissed.

“You’re carrying both of us now.” She hissed up at the swordsmen who groaned in his own annoyance.

Tag List: @thesleepiestbearcub , @fanaticsnail

#nami #nami one piece #nami angst #zoro #alabasta arc #one piece #one piece live action #one piece anime #nami fluff #nami x reader #nami x y/n #nami x you #nami x gn!reader #nami x baroqueworks!reader #opla #nami opla #straw hats #truth or dare?#divider by saradika

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4stormfly · 3 months

Text

Why Chester and Norris are probably more than just Jon and Martin’s voices

The ramblings of a madman who really wants his silly little guys back

Spoilers for up to tmagp episode 4

First of all, just because tmagp can be enjoyed without listening to tma, that doesn’t mean none of the characters from tma will come back. All sequels are designed to be enjoyable on their own, it would be bad writing otherwise. You never know where a new listener/viewer/reader will start, so everything needs to be able to be enjoyed by itself so that they continue to consume your content, but that doesn’t stop writers from including characters from the original work. Just look at Marvel movies. You don’t need to have watched every single movie that came before to enjoy Infinity War (I hadn’t, and I still loved Infinity War), but it’s still able to reference things from those previous movies without explaining the entire MCU at the time. Characters can come back from tma and tmagp can still be enjoyable for new listeners. These two things aren’t mutually exclusive.

One of the major theories is that the fears are just using their voices from the tapes. This doesn’t explain Augustus’ voice, though. His voice isn’t anywhere on the tma tapes, unless you want to say he’s a recast for Leitner, which doesn’t really make sense for any other reason than they sound similar. It’s much more likely that Augustus is og Jonah, since he was the only one in the panopticon with Jon and Martin (plus there’s no implication that Elias’s body in the rubble in MAG200, so Jonah could have been sent wherever Jon and Martin went).

As pointed out very often, even though we only have four cases read out by the text to speech voices, they all line up pretty well with the characters they would be. Chester reads the case about the dangers of the Magnus Institute, serving as a warning for what’s to come. Norris reads the cases about love and how easily it is to lose yourself to these fears. Finally, Augustus reads the case from the 18th century about a selfish man willing to use the fears to harm other people in order to get what he wants.

Another thing I don’t see mentioned a lot is the censorship around who Jonny, Alex, and Tim Fearon are playing. When the official cast was revealed, the characters they were playing were censored. On top of that, at the end of each episode, when listing the cast members and who they play, Jonny, Alex, and Tim Fearon are always listed as “additional voices” rather than as Chester/Norris/Augustus. It just seems like a weird thing to do if they end up being just text to speech programs.

Finally, the first case with “some of” Arthur coming back and Jonny’s statement on it about being careful for what you wish to come back because it’ll come back wrong just parallel the situation too well. It could be a coincidence, but it could also be some great foreshadowing.

#if you can’t tell I really want it to be them #trying to manifest it by writing this all down #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonah magnus #tmagp speculation #stormfly rambles

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wwinterwitch · 1 year

Text

questions — joel miller x fem!reader

summary: after a night at the bar, joel walks you home and you finally confess what has been on your mind since the night everything fell apart pairing: joel miller x fem!reader word count: 3.9k warnings and tags: doesn't really follow canon but sill minor spoilers for ep. 6 i guess?, angst with a good ending, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, joel being joel, miscommunication, sharing feelings go wrong, i'm not used to write angsty fics i'm sorry if this sucks author's note: omg omg happy finale day!! i wrote this listening to question...? by taylor swift so that's what inspired this concept, also this was supposed to be a tiny little blurb idk how we got to almost 4k words but okay i guess

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

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Before tonight you were fine.

You barely even thought about him in that way. You barely remember the way his skin feels against yours, or the way a simple kiss from him would leave you begging for more. It was like all those nights you two would stay up talking about whatever, his arms around you and your back pressed against his chest, never existed.

Training your heart not to long for him and your brain to keep him out of your thoughts was no easy job at first. It was almost impossible for your body not to want him close. Not being able to talk to him about whatever was on your mind and knowing he no longer will reach out to share even his most profound secrets was absolute torture. Walking next to him all day without being able to reach out for his hand or stop for a quick second just to hold him close to you was a living nightmare that you couldn't wake up from.

Because how could he be so easy to forget? Joel Miller. The first and only person you've fallen in love with. That special someone that opened up a door to a whole new world that you never realized you were dying to discover until he was standing in front of you, his extended hand being an open invitation to walk all these unfamiliar roads and witness the beauty of it all together.

It was new and scary and beautiful. You were addicted to loving him before you even realized exactly what it was. From the moment you were able to put a name to this new feeling he taught you, you vowed to be his for as long as he'll have you- but what a shame it was to realize that the ending to a seemingly long story was already written at the very back of the page.

Perhaps your love blinded you enough to believe he had fallen just as hard, only to realize he was still standing at the edge of the precipice, staring down as you fell into the darkness of the abyss. Perhaps it's the fact that death is all around that makes it impossible for anything to be born. Why would you be able to live a fairytale in the middle of a horror show? What could possibly make you so special?

At least he doesn't seem to be affected by the fact that you two drifted apart. It's not like he's the best at sharing his feelings to other people, his ever-frowning gaze always present in his face no matter the circumstance, but you were still hoping that maybe he cared enough to show you he's hurting even just a little bit.

That should be comforting, right? To know he's perfectly fine and that you never cross his mind in that way. He doesn't have the need to apologize or make it right. He doesn't regret what happened and it never plays back in his head as he curses at himself for not doing things differently. You and your...relationship? are that easy to forget.

No. It's not comforting at all. If anything, it makes everything worse.

You can still remember the night you told him you loved him. A moment in your painfully short history together that you wish you could erase. A disappointing ending to what could've been an absolute masterpiece.

Ellie was already asleep and the two of you were keeping watch. He insisted you should get some sleep but you wanted to stay with him. He wasn't a fan of showing you any type of affection since Ellie joined the two of you, so the nights are the only chance you have to be closer. It was like the moon and stars were your best of friends at that point, because they meant he could finally be yours.

The confession slipped from your lips in a quiet whisper. A simple and timid "I think I'm falling in love with you" was all you offered. It's not hard to remember the way your hands would slightly tremble, or the rapid beating of your heart. It's as unforgettable as the confidence you were feeling because despite being so nervous, you were certain that he'll say it back.

He never did. He didn't say it back that night, or the morning after, or any other morning that followed.

It was embarrassing to look back on it now that you know what happened next. You were snuggled up next to him, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes were fixated on the fireplace that helped to make the chilling air of the night a little more tolerable.

Staring at his handsome complexion without his permission was probably one of your favorite things to do. He had confided in you a couple of times that he couldn't understand why you enjoy it so much. That he's not this breathtaking sight that deserves to be contemplated in the way you do.

Truth is, he's the most hypnotizing sight of all. You didn't care about the roughness of his features or the years visible in the corner of his eyes, hair and beard. He's gorgeous and unique and yours. You could stare at him for hours and never get tired of it.

Like many times before, he caught you staring at him. And just like those times before, he made a gesture that should tell you he disliked that habit of yours, only to be betrayed by the smirk timidly forming on his lips not so long after.

It was then, with his eyes staring back at yours, that the verbal proclamation of your love for him invaded the quietness of the night.

And that's when his smirk magically disappeared. His eyes became dark with something you couldn't quite decipher at the time, still staring back at you but not really. It was clear he wasn't there with you anymore, too lost in his own thoughts to truly acknowledge your presence anymore.

Before you could even think of saying something else, he surprised you with an almost robotic "I think you should get some sleep".

Feeling more heartbroken and confused than ever, you did exactly that. You got up and joined Ellie, cuddling up in your sleeping bag with your back facing him. It's still a mystery to you how you were able to cry yourself to sleep that night without making a sound. How you were able to control the hurricane of emotions after telling the love of your life how you feel and him not caring about it in the slightest.

And suddenly, being in love was still new and scary but it had turned into something horrible.

You had to spend every second of every day with him after that, pretending nothing ever happened. He never brought it up either, so you decided to ignore it to avoid making a fool of yourself again. His reaction was enough to let you know he never really loved you, so you ran with it and tried to continue knowing whatever you two had or could have was no more.

But it was still difficult at times. Ellie kept asking you questions regarding you and Joel even weeks after the incident. She's not stupid. She could see you two weren't exactly friends, no matter how hard Joel tried to convince her otherwise. She's also not someone who settles for made up excuses or half truths, which made her push the subject until she got a good enough answer. That's why she continued coming to you for answers, because she knew he'll never talk about it.

It was only when you explicitly confirmed you two weren't just friends before quickly telling her it was completely over that she eventually let it be. After that, she also started to pretend nothing happened.

Jackson became pretty much the light at the end of a pitch back tunnel you thought was never-ending. You were excited to meet new people and have new things to do during the day, knowing it'll help to keep you busy, forcing Joel out of your head.

It was so exciting in fact, that it helped to make it seem as if the quick "she's the one I've been traveling with" that Joel used to introduce you to his brother wasn't that terrible.

Tommy, who much to your luck was nothing like his big brother, made sure to show you around and introduce you to a few people. He got you a house so you and Ellie could settle in and helped you find a job at the local library, officially starting your new life that didn't revolve around Joel.

In time, you found your place in the commune (as you and Ellie love to call it to tease Tommy). Joel was slowly becoming just a bad chapter in a much bigger story that you started to write for yourself, and you're loving the new plot that's unfolding across the blank pages.

However, all of that progress came crashing down tonight. Tommy's birthday was being celebrated at the local bar and there was no way you would ever miss it. Not only has he become a very good friend, but you also needed the distraction.

The familiar faces, the food and drinks made you forget about Joel's presence for most of the night and you barely made the effort to acknowledge his presence. Without being able to prevent it, your eyes accidentally met for a few seconds. It was almost sickening that everything about that half-a-second-look was so much like a movie. You were laughing at something a friend had said before you finished your third drink of the night, casually scanning the room to catch Joel already looking your way.

He smiled and you barely smiled back before focusing on the conversation with your friends again as if nothing happened. The alcohol might have motivated you enough to just not care anymore. To show him you really couldn't care any less to try to be nice after he was such an asshole when you were completely vulnerable before him.

The idea of not caring seemed tempting. Thinking the alcohol was helping, you continued drinking until you forgot about pretty much everything- which didn't take that long considering your alcohol resistance wasn't that good after a long time without drinking. You don't care about Joel, or the hours passing by, or the fact that you're probably making a complete fool of yourself giggling and dancing with a few friends that are probably as drunk as you are, if not more.

All the hype from being intoxicated started to wear off after a while, becoming more and more sleepy until you were practically dragging your feet towards the exit, putting on your coat and hat to prepare for the cold night outside.

"Looks like you had a good time," you hear Tommy comment in a mocking tone, sending a sympathetic smile your way.

"I did! Thanks for inviting me. And happy birthday to you again!" you exclaim cheerfully. "I hope I didn't make a fool of myself tonight."

"Oh, you definitely did," he mocked, chuckling lightly. "But hey, those dance moves you were pulling off back there? Best birthday gift I'll ever receive."

You looked positively embarrassed after his comment, but managed to laugh it off. "I guess that's good."

"It is," he immediately reassures you. "Let's get you home now, okay?"

"Oh, you don't have to go with me. You can't leave your own birthday party. It's okay, I got it."

"I want to make sure you get home safe. It's fine."

"Tommy, please. You should stay and have fun."

"I won't have fun if I'm worrying about you all night."

"I can take her," you suddenly hear Joel's voice behind you, which immediately made you roll your eyes because you really didn't want him around. He noticed the gesture but didn't seem to care about it in the slightest, putting on his jacket. "I was heading out anyway."

Tommy couldn't have known you really didn't want to be around his older brother, completely unaware of your history with him. Perhaps if you told him, he'll insist on going with you or find someone else that could walk you home. But you never told him what happened, so you're stuck with Joel. "Okay, great. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Thank you for coming," he says, allowing the two of you to leave.

The first few minutes outside in the snow have got to be the most awkward minutes of your entire life.

You tried not to stumble despite still being a bit drunk, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. You're mad that he's here with you and you can't stand being alone with him.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

Oh, and of course he had to open his mouth. Because when has Joel ever done what you want him to do? It seems like he'll always do exactly the opposite of what you expect from him.

"Yes," was all you said.

"Just yes?" he tried again.

"Yes."

You heard him sigh. "So, no talking?"

"I'd really like that, actually."

The tone of your voice would've been enough to make him shut up for the entire walk. Even he seemed to be a little taken aback by the honesty of your answer because you could feel him staring at you for longer than usual before he focused on his boots as they left marks on the snow.

He didn't ask what was wrong because deep down he must've known. He can't not know. And in that drunken state you allowed yourself to be pity as you wished that he thinks about it every single day. That it tortures him. That he despises himself for breaking your heart and not doing something to make it right. That he looks back on it and hopes that he could go back.

But does he? Does he actually think about it every single day? Does he regret what happened? And if he does, why is he not trying to say he's sorry? Does he even want to say something at all?

It was almost as if the alcohol betrayed you. Or maybe it was your head that just allowed every barrier you have built these past few weeks to crumble down. Not caring turned into caring way too much and it was like you couldn't stop thinking about a hundred questions without being able to find a single answer to any of them.

Joel turns to look at you once again when he notices you stopped walking. Your head is spinning as more and more questions fill up your mind and you get frustrated because you know there's only one person who has all the answers.

Should you say something? Should you make a fool of yourself once again? It shouldn't be you. Why is he not doing something? How come you're the one who has to speak up about this? It's not fair.

But it was late, cold and you were just so drunk. And you know that no matter how much you try to move on, you'll never be truly okay until you hear an explanation as to why he broke your heart in such a vicious way. Even if he lies or tries to sugarcoat it, you deserve even the tiniest of explanations.

"Is everything okay?" he eventually asks, which only frustrates you more.

"Do you ever think about that night?" you let out almost immediately after, feeling the way your heart was beating faster than ever. As fast as the time you confessed your love for him.

He was quiet, so you decided to continue. "Do you ever wish you could go back and change the way it ended? Does...does it ever cross your mind or you seriously don't care?"

After those questions, Joel seemed to finally react. "Are we seriously doing this now?"

"If not now, when? You were clearly not going to say anything," you accused him, leaving him completely defenseless because he was very much avoiding ever bringing this up and you just called him out on it. "I just need to know why, Joel."

"I don't- let's get you home, okay?"

"Stop doing that! Stop trying to avoid this!" you exclaimed with obvious exasperation, feeling the corner of your eyes burning due to the tears that would surely roll down your cheeks at any point. "I was in love with you and you weren't decent enough to at least tell me you didn't feel the same way! Don't you think I deserved at least that?"

"We can talk about this tomorrow..."

"No, fuck that. I waited long enough," you quickly interrupted. "I was so patient with you. I gave you your space when you said you weren't sure about us, I respected your decision of being discreet in front of Ellie, I stood up for you countless of times when I shouldn't have. I did so much for you and you can't even look me in the eye and give me an explanation!"

"It's not-"

"You've got to be the biggest asshole I've ever met. And you know what's the worst part of this? That I'm still expecting shit from you. I still hope that you'll say you're sorry for breaking my heart and acting like you never did something wrong. I'm so fucking stupid to believe that you actually-"

"I was afraid!" he practically shouted, hoping that would stop your rambling. It seemed to work, because you were silent as soon as he said that. "There. Are you happy?"

"Don't put this on me," you immediately snap back.

Joel sighs yet again and takes a second to calm down, knowing that if he gets defensive this will end much worse. It's time to accept he fucked up and stop trying to act like he didn't.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "For this and for what I said that night. I should've been honest with you."

Now it was you the one who was silent, taken aback by his reaction. Usually, he'll try to come on top by creating any type of argument until he's able to get the last word. An actual apology was definitely not something you were expecting.

"I don't like people. I keep my distance and everyone else stay away from me in return. I like distance," he explains. "But then you came along and it was impossible to stay away. No matter how hard I tried, I'd always come back to you. I started to need you and it was scary because I should be keeping my distance."

Silence. Absolute silence. You were surprised to hear him being so honest with you, but you were also feeling a bit nostalgic because deep down you missed being the person Joel would go to when he needed someone to talk to. Even when it was difficult for him to open up, he always tried his best to rely on you whenever he needed it. Needless to say, it made you feel very special.

"When you said you loved me I didn't know what to do. It felt so...definitive. Because I knew that deep down I was falling for you too and if I said something that'd mean I'd never be able to let you go. And it was so scary to think of giving in to that feeling because...because I couldn't allow myself to care again."

You knew exactly what he meant by that. His daughter is not a topic he particularly enjoys bringing up, but you've heard a few things about her. And honestly, you couldn't really blame him for being scared. Despite all these years, losing his kid in the way he did has got to be the worst pain he'll ever experience. Of course he'll want to run away in the opposite direction when he starts seeing the similarities.

It doesn't excuse the fact that he avoided you, but you would never pretend like his feelings weren't valid.

He was scared of loving you because with love comes the inevitable attachment to that person forever. You care so deeply, the mere idea of ever losing that person shatters your world completely. And he knows what that loss feels like. He couldn't experience that again.

"Besides, you know me. You know I'm a mess. I couldn't let you ruin your life by loving me, because I'd just let you down- which I did, so I was right. So instead of saying something, I just said what I thought would help to make you not love me anymore. If I couldn't keep my distance, I had to do something so you'll want to stay away from me."

Once again, Joel was doing exactly the opposite of what you expected. He poured his heart out to you, sounding so honest and vulnerable. You've only heard him being this sincere whenever he would mention Sarah or that one time when you both stayed up talking in depth about your relationship with Ellie.

Tears started to roll down your cheeks as predicted as you stared at him. You don't know whether to hug him or punch him at this point.

"You're such an asshole," was all you could say.

The comment made him chuckle, but it was evident he was holding back his own tears. "I know."

"But that's exactly why I loved you. I know what you've been through, I knew you were a challenge and I was willing to work on it for as long as it would take us. The decision of whether I wanted to love you or not was never yours to make."

"I was trying to save you from having to deal with me."

"What if I didn't want to be saved?"

"Well, I think it's already too late for that," he replied. There was another pause that encouraged him to ask, "Is it? Too late?"

"I don't know," you replied. It was the truth.

"I can work with I don't know."

"What does that mean?" you asked curiously, wiping your tears away.

"It means I'm willing to make it right this time," he replied. "If you let me."

You frowned just a little, failing to hold back the smile that appeared on your face just seconds later. "You know you'll have to really try if you want to fix this, right?"

"I know. It's okay. You're worth it."

So far, so good, you thought.

"This means no more hiding, no more trying to push me away, talking about your feelings..."

"I can handle it."

"Can you?" you asked in a much more serious tone. It sucked not being able to fully trust his word, but you both know you had your reasons not to. "I just don't want to get my hopes up again over nothing."

You watched as Joel took a step closer to you, reaching out to grab one of your hands. He examines your face, making sure you're okay with him touching you before he brings it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. "I promise you this time will be different," he says, and he's looking at you with so much affection, it's impossible not to trust him.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller angst #pedro pascal characters

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greycaelum · 1 year

Note

Hello,how are u?

I've been a fan of your writing for a while now,and im really in need of some comfort

If you can,could u pls write a oneshot gojo x fem!reader where reader is also a sorcerer and one year younger than gojo and they've been friends for so long,and one day reader's mother talks about her marrying someone she doesnt like (her mother tells it from kindness) and it messes reader up to the point of panic attack and crying?and she calls satoru so he could help her calm down?

(you decide whether reader and gojo are in a secret relationship or not.)

Im in need of comfort rn and i would love to see ur writing on this matter

Kaleidoscope Series—Love Me Now, Love Me Never Chapters: {Pacify Her}

—Gojo Satoru X Sorcerer Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

"Dear..." Your mother's voice called you, and her eyes held you in softness.

"Why didn't you ask me, first Mother?" Your heart felt as if it was made of sand collapsing as you realise the betrayal.

"Because we know this will be your reaction. You work tirelessly, barely coming home. I simply wish for someone to care for you. Someone who will look out and care for you."

"I could take care of myself." Your eyes watered. Why? Why are you deciding on my life without my opinion?

𑁍 Genre: angst to comfort, traditional arrange marriage

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (2k)— spoilers for anime only! mentions of teen years & Hidden Inventory Arc, arrange marriage, secret relationship— use of endearments (baby and sweetheart), crying, locking self in the closet, implied panic

𑁍 A/N: Hi sweetheart, work has been keeping me, I'm sorry that this one took a while even though I tried to do it as soon as possible, I hope everything will get better soon and this one helps to comfort you. Sending you a very tight hug! —Grey,

He's obnoxious.

Gojo Satoru in his teens is a menace. One that crawls up on you every time he spots your shadow to pull your hair and poke fun at you.

You've known the man since your first year in college. Nanami often looks at you in worry and helplessness whenever Gojo Satoru comes over to tease you. Haibara looks up to him and would often join in the fun, unbeknownst of your irritation.

Good old day, you've come to treasure deep in your heart. When everything was easier. When life seems to be lighter.

You came from a fairly influential sorcerer clan. Prized for your reversed curse technique that paved your way in the jujutsu society in the less physical struggle over brutal means. But that didn't spare you from stomaching the horrendous scenes curses can inflict. Haibara was the catalyst of your life's turning point.

Everyone started falling out. You see your raven-haired senior left without a goodbye, leaving nothing but the biggest tragedy in your generation. Nanami left as well, unable to take the bullshit of the people behind the power sacrificing the lesser ones as pawns to maintain their status and influence. And Satoru...

"Are you leaving?"

On a cold night, he found you staring at the stars under the tree nearby the training grounds. A bag strapped on your back, and normal clothes you'd wear for your day off. You could see exhaustion brimming around him even though he was in the shadows.

"Everything is in shambles." You sighed, tucking your chin on your knees. "Are youleaving?" You watch him slip his hands into the pockets of his pants and look up at the sky.

You watch your senior's face, he looks so young as you trace his jaws to the softness of his cheeks, the faint glimmer in his ocean eyes from the slit of his sunglasses holds the weariness he has to suppress for so long, slipping through the night.

You have to think again that this man is just a year older than you, still, a teenager in adolescence that is forced to play soldier. Gojo Satoru has become so distant you can barely recognize the youth despite the pretty face he has.

"I can't." He answered after a long time.

And you just know the indifference of that answer. The feeling of being unable to walk away despite wanting to.

"Thought so. Guess we have a long time annoying each other, senpai." You chuckled and stood up, dusting yourself and turning in the direction of the dorm you started walking.

A force collided against your back and your ears are being rubbed until you squirm and glare at the perpetrator.

"Uh-huh? Looking forward to that brat." He just grinned and ruffled your hair.

You can't pinpoint it anymore. Was it when you covered him with your overcoat so he could just hide and swallow his exhaustion as you sit beside him, holding his hands inside his Infinity? Or was it when he started finding you every day, dragging you with him and Shoko? Or was it when he took your hand and your heart felt at peace amid the chaos?

"I'm tireddddddd~" Satoru let out a long sigh and rub his face against your back while his long arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you perched on his thighs.

"Satoru, there are people outside!" You tried squirming away, even pinching the man off of you but to no avail. He's latched unto you like a leech. It's so embarrassing to be caught like this, the only ones who knew are Ijichi, Shoko, and Principal Yaga. Other than that, you're viewed as Satoru's favorite kouhai. Unbeknownst to them, you and this menace have been going out since you were 19.

"Who cares?" He pulled down his blindfold and batted those pretty lashes. Satoru blew you a kiss and giggled at your sour expression. "How could you be so cute? Just like me." He coos at you.

You turned away huffing with your arms crossed over your chest and let yourself be cradled into your beau's arms.

"I have to go to the ancestral house later, my Mom asked me to come. Just reheat the food I left in the fridge and don't stay up late."

Satoru nodded and shifted you to the side, tucking your head underneath his chin.

"Should I pick you up?" Satoru quietly asked, even though he already knows the answer.

"No, they'll get suspicious." You bit your lip. "I'm sorry..."

It's been years and yet your relationship is kept behind the curtains. Satoru has never thought he'd be one to be kept a secret, but after your persuasions even though he badly wants to drive off the men lurking around you whenever they think you're single. Risking your safety to prove your relationship is not enough, he agreed this is for the best.

"Nothin' for you to be sorry for sweetheart." Satoru kissed the top of your head. "Just call me when you're done then I won't worry much."

Being brought up in a more dynamic and liberated childhood, growing up, you know you had it easier than other sorcerers. Your clan may not be part of the elites, but it is an established and recognized clan that is important to the jujutsu society for the special ability of reversed curse technique.

"Mother," you called the regal woman talking with your distant relative.

"Dear, we've been waiting for you. How about you changed into comfortable clothes first then look for us in the study?" She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

You did as you were told, changing into a furisode prepared for you and led down to the study. When you opened the door you found your grandmother, and mother waiting inside. Seeing the stern look on your grandmother's face you suddenly felt the pressing matter this talk is about to make. Your heart pounded and anxiousness started filling you up as you took a seat across from your mother.

"It's the time for you to get married Y/n. Do you like any man right now?"

"G-Grandmother?" You stuttered and look at the straight-faced woman in disbelief. Her eyes held nothing but seriousness. It's as if he could slice through anything with her gaze.

"You've never brought a man home, I'm afraid you'll be a spinster if I do not intervene. The son of the Chiba Clan is a proper and respectable man. He can provide for you and keep you safe." There's finality in her voice that has no room for your reason. When you look at those eyes, you see your Grandmother has already finished everything before you could speak anything about this matter. "Life is short, in this world we're moving. Don't waste that time being all alone." Your Grandmother stood up and pat your shoulder, she quietly left the study leaving you and your mother.

"Dear..." Your mother's voice called you, and her eyes held you in softness.

"Why didn't you ask me, first Mother?" Your heart felt as if it was made of sand collapsing as you realise the betrayal. You never want to be angry at her. You know she loves you and looks out for the best of your interest. But this one simply breaks your heart.

"Because we know this will be your reaction. You work tirelessly, barely coming home. I simply wish for someone to care for you. Someone who will look out and care for you."

"I could take care of myself." Your eyes watered. Why? Why are you deciding on my life without my opinion?

Your mother looks at you, and sadness clouds in her eyes. "I'm very sorry, but please try. You give yourself away too much in your work, is it so bad to wish that you have someone stay by your side?"

"No mother. But I—" Satoru's face flashed in your mind. Really, you were just scared to be used out of political means so you hid your relationship. You knew it was unfair to Satoru who loved you regardless of anything but he never asked you to go against your principles just to give in his wishes. He has always valued you more than anyone's opinion. "—I will never any man besides the one I chose."

Your tears threatening to spill. But you kept it in. And walk out of the door despite your mother's call. You ran to your room, having a hard time keeping yourself focused from the trembling of your hand.

You shut your door and ran to the closet, squeezing yourself inside the large and dark wooden wardrobe. With shaking hands, you held your phone and ran through your call logs. Every ring you feel your heart hammer against the cages of your chest, your feet getting cold despite the socks. Static ringing through your ears.

"Baby? You coming home?" Satoru's groggy voice, answered.

A sense of relief flooded you as you listen to the faint shuffling in the background. You wanted to cry, but you bit your lips so you could hear his breathing.

"Sweetheart? Somethin' wrong?"

"'T-Toru," you hiccuped, angry at yourself for sobbing hard.

"Why are you crying? Where are you?" Worry filled in his voice. "I'm coming to get you." You heard hurried footsteps and the slight panic in his voice.

"Baby? Are you there? Don't hang up alright?"

"Toru, 'T-Toru, Toru," you chanted in desperate sobs, grounding yourself in his name despite the darkness you're in.

"Yes Baby, I'm here. On my way to fetch you. Calm down alright. I'm here."

You shut your eyes close. Wishing the next second you open it Satoru is in front of you. But every second that ticks, the colder your palm gets, the harder your heart pounds, dreading the mere idea of marrying a stranger you barely know. Your throat is constricted, and your chest heaves out the intangible pain seeping into your heart.

To give up Satoru? Not a chance.

"Open up baby," the call turned off and a knock bumped your wardrobe. "We're going home, sweetheart." You could hear the panting that the person is trying hard to mellow down and calm his voice.

The door opened and Satoru squatted down. His clothes are disheveled from the hurry. Your bleary eyes locked on him and you saw his shoulders slacken, but they immediately squared up as he beckon you out of the closet.

"C'mere."

You didn't have to be told twice, crawling out and into his arms, your clutch his shirt as his arms wound around you.

"What happened? Tell me so I can understand what upset you, sweetheart." He coos to you, settling you between his propped knees while pressing a kiss on your temple.

His cool spicy scent invaded your panicking senses. The more you listen to his heart the slower your breathing gets and eventually, you're pushing yourself closer to him, throwing your arm around Satoru's neck.

"They thought I'm not in a relationship and arranged a marriage partner for me."

You felt Satoru's grip over you tighten. He didn't speak but you could feel his sour mood.

"Are you scared?" He moves you to look him in the eye. A flicker pass through his eyes, but before you could recognize it, that pained glint was gone.

"I'm upset." You replied honestly.

You know your mother never meant to hurt you. But your family is meddling in your life too much that it's not even needed. How could they decide on it before asking you when you'll be the one living that marriage?

"Who am I, baby?" Satoru cup your cheeks and pressed your foreheads together.

"You're Gojo... you're my Satoru." You whispered, warmth spreading in your chest.

"Mnn, that's right. Who would dare take you away when you have me, sweetheart?" Satoru opened his eyes and could see the steeled resolve in those ocean eyes.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey

#kaleidoscope series #gojo satoru x reader #angst to comfort #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #greycaelum #gojo satoru x y/n fluff #gojo satoru x y/n angst #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader

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opera-house-twisted-wonderland · 10 months

Note

Hello! If it’s okay, could I request some headcanons for a yandere Idia?

Sure sweetheart! Hope you like this one!

(I have to admit, it took me awhile to write something that satisfied me. Idia is surprisingly hard to write, perhaps it's just me-)

Warnings!: Forced isolation, unhealthy obsessive beheavior, stalking, abduction, spoilers for chapter 6 , Idia being a creep

Yandere Idia Shroud Headcanons

•Idia is a stalkerish yandere.

•And he would most likely stalk you through his multiple cameras around campus, not mentioning the ones he installed in your dorm without you knowing.

•At first, i doubt he would approach you personally, or at all really-

•He contented himself with simply watching you through his cameras, smiling to himself as he watched you eat or simply walk down the halls, as if you were his favorite character from a anime. Simply too entertained to even blink for a second, not wanting to miss a single sway of your hips.

•But soon enough just watching wasn't enough, and that would be when Idia began to tell Ortho to approach you. It started simple enough, just small greetings and waves.

•But soon enough this encounters would grow.

•Ortho would seek you out to chat more and more throughout the weeks, asking things about yourself, mentioning little facts about his older brother, and how he was soo lonely...

•After awhile you and Ortho were practically friends, and he invited you to meet his brother in his room.

•It was supposed to be just a hangout, just a little thing so Ortho could introduce you to his beloved older brother who he talked so much about.

•He was very shy, and didn't really keep eye contact but he was also oddly welcoming for someone you heard being a rude shut in.

•You guys played lots of games on his computer, taking turns whenever the other died. It was such a fun evening!

•Although he seemed very nervous... sweating even.

•Idia was even kind enough to offer you snacks! What a sweetheart he truly was...

•He told you they were "pomegranates seeds", and they were surprisingly nice to the tongue too!...

•He insisted on you eating them. Staring intensely at you as you ate. Scratching his skin anxiously.

•After you were done, he was quick to knock you out.

•A strong hit to the back of your head was enough.

•Look- Idia was having fun, he truly was! But he simply couldn't let you leave now, after all... you did eat the seeds didn't you? That meant you belonged to him for the time period!

•He counted each you popped in your mouth

•seven, you ate seven in total.

•How ironic, don't you think? It was such a reference to hades very own tale...

•A sign that you two were meant for eachother maybe? You guys must be the great seven's OTP!

•Although he wished you ate more... but no problem, he would make you eat more later on.

•Idia didn't waste a second to take you to The Island of Woe, specifically to his parents organization, the S.T.Y.X.

•But don't worry, he won't do the same he did to his fellow housewardens. After all, he has no reason to experiment on you!

•Idia will lock you in a empty room with only a bed and the twisted wonderland equivalent of monopoly so you won't bore yourself to death(he would have preferred to leave you a computer installed with his favorite games, but he simply couldn't risk you searching for help through the internet, did he?)

•He'll make sure to visit you whenever he can, although he is still quite... shy???

•Nobody but Idia was permitted to enter your room, it's been awhile since you heard a voice who didn't belong to you or Idia.

•He won't exactly approach you, simply stand at your door, watching you. Sometimes he will try to interact with you, if feeling daring—even touch you.

•But the moment you scream at him, he will go away. As if somehow afraid of you backlashing against him?? For someone that kidnapped you, he certainly acted like the unfortunate victim.

•Whenever he would stand at your door, he wouldn't speak a word.

•Simply watching you through heavy breaths, sweating hands gripping his own clothes tightly.

•It was... very creepy.

•Idia still watches you through the cameras he installed in your room, and althought he much prefered to spend time with you in person, to... well, touch you, hug you, cuddle you—he didn't want you to scream at him.

•But it's okay... you may hate him now, but you're going to come around eventually. One day you'll love him just as much as he loves you, it's a matter of time.

•You couldn't escape him anyway...

#Yandere Idia Shroud #Yandere Idia Shroud x reader #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #Idia Shroud x reader #Idia Shroud

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staytheword · 1 year

Text

anywhere but home (lmly, part three)

anywhere but home — part three of lmly [← part two] [series masterlist] [general masterlist]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• han jisung x female reader, other stray kids members are mentioned/featured.

• non idol au, rock band au. some angst. drinking, explicit language, tattoos. smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names (baby), nothing extreme. write to me if i forgot anything.

• word count: 6k

He offers to drop you home on the way and you accept, yawning, half sleeping on Jisung’s shoulder for the whole ride. He has a hand on your thigh, tapping a rhythm there.

• author’s note: Here it is, part three, and the finale! It's not very long, I'm so so so sorry. I realized it a little too late. I hope you will still enjoy it. :( ♡

“Fuck - keep doing that, fuck - I’m -”

Jisung does not finish his sentence. His words become a slurring mess as he groans loudly, bucking his hips, his cock twitching in your mouth. You don’t stop your bobbing, swirling your tongue around his length, and he pulls your hair a little as he comes. His taste fills your mouth, and you keep him there throughout his orgasm, not wasting a drop. Jisung breathes heavily, his head thrown back. You watch his chest move alongside his breathing, covered in sweat, swallowing his seed.

You lick him clean, an amused smile upon your lips as Jisung seems to be positively speechless. There’s just something so satisfying about giving proper head. Jisung lets out a laugh, falling backwards on the bed, the mattress springing under his weight.

He keeps laughing maniacally as you sit beside him, crossing your legs, playing with his hair.

“What’s so funny, huh?” you ask him.

“I’m just thinking,” he says. “It’s Felix’s birthday, but I’m getting sucked off like it’s mine. He must be livid, the guy loves head.”

You arch an eyebrow. “What, do you want me to offer it to him or something?”

“Oh, no, I’m keeping you to myself,” Jisung chants, sitting up, replacing his boxers, to pull you into his arms. He kisses your face, your lips, your chin.

The words make you smile although they hurt a little - time is running out between you. In a few days Jisung will be gone, and you will have to go back to living without him. It was so easy back then. Before he swept over your life like the strongest of currents.

For now you just try to enjoy your time with him. You cuddle against him, wearing only your underwear and an oversized t-shirt of his. Felix’s birthday party is still hours away, and you’re alone in the apartment for once. You need to decorate the place and get supplies, but for now you just linger in bed.

You play with Jisung’s hands, pouting softly.

“I wish you had a drum set up here. So you could play for me.”

“Me too, baby,” he smiles. “I want to teach you to play.”

You grin. “Yeah? I’d like that.”

Jisung gently cups your cheek, his wide eyes observing you. You do the same, trying to keep the sadness away, and you see a flash in his eyes.

“Don’t move.”

He jumps from the bed and starts to rummage through his messy room, clearly in search of something. After a few seconds he yells triumphantly and pulls out a pair of drumsticks from a bag. He twirls them between his fingers, heading back on the bed, and you watch him in amusement.

He sits behind you, gesturing to you to sit on his lap. You do, frowning.

“What are you -”

“Hold these.”

He folds his hands over yours as you grab the drumsticks. Gently, he places your fingers in precise positions, checking the angle of your wrists, and you let him do it, feeling his breath on your neck. He’s focused for a few seconds, and once he’s satisfied with the way you are placed, you hear him chuckling.

“Here. Now flick your right wrist.”

You try it, Jisung’s warmth enveloping you.

��A little more sharply. Like you’re holding a whip.”

You try again, and this time you feel him smile. “Exactly. You’re a natural. Now try to create a rhythm with your second hand.”

You have no idea what you are doing, but Jisung accompanies you, guiding your wrists. The sticks barely make any sound against the mattress, but the soft thumps do make the semblance of a rhythm, and it makes you grin almost idiotically.

“Oh, great beat, baby,” Jisung grins.

“It has to be your next song,” you tease him, although you are having a little too much fun.

“For sure. It will be called I Got a Mindblowing Blowjob on Felix’s Birthday.”

You bark out a laugh, losing the rhythm for a second, and Jisung laughs with you. The vibrations resonate against your back, filling you with warmth.

“Mindblowing, really? That’s quite a compliment.”

“All deserved, babe,” he grins.

You end up handing him the drumsticks because he’s getting carried away and you can’t follow. Jisung starts to slam the sticks against the mattress in a new beat. He sits up, turning to the bedside table, a box of tissues, a piece of jewelry, making sounds with everything that surrounds him.

You look at him play, shaking your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement and tenderness. He’s smiling broadly, his hair sweeping his eyes, his boxers crooked on his hips. Your heart is so full.

So full of him. Damn, you think to yourself. You might very well love him.

You wake up the next day with a terrible hangover. All of you went a little overboard the previous night for Felix’s birthday, and now you are paying the price. You don’t mind it too much, though - it was worth it. The guys have an engagement with a local radio station, an interview and acoustic performance, so they have to leave early. Seungmin enters their apartment a little before 8, looking sharp, asking if everyone had breakfast.

He offers to drop you home on the way and you accept, yawning, half sleeping on Jisung’s shoulder for the whole ride. He has a hand on your thigh, tapping a rhythm there.

Once in your apartment, you find Changbin working on the kitchen table, his hoodie drawn over his head and above his fluffy hair, looking tired. He came to the party the night before but still made it to sleep at home, unlike you. He gives you a kind smile, handing you his half full cup of coffee.

“Can’t find anyone to cover that night,” he says, staring at his computer screen, which is open on his emails. “I’m thinking maybe we just won’t open. Everyone will be at the Scene anyway.”

“Not everyone, Bin,” you tell him softly. “But if you think it’s best.”

He sighs. “I don’t really know.”

You wrap your arms around him, pouting. You hate seeing Changbin hurt - especially when it’s Jun-woo’s fault. A part of you wants to go back to sleep, but you want to be there for your best friend, so you glance up at him, an idea crossing your mind.

“Hey,” you say with a knowing smile. “Want to do a puzzle?”

Changbin bursts out laughing and it’s music to your ears. “No way!”

“What, why?!” you yell. “We haven’t done one in forever!”

“That’s because the last one ended up in the trash before we even finished it.”

“That was your fault, if only you had let me -”

You keep bickering, but both of you still stand up to open the hallway closet where your puzzles are stored. It used to be your favorite pastime in college, helping you focus during study sessions and providing much needed distraction. It was always an adventure to do a puzzle with Changbin - a loud one at that. He yelled when a piece fit, he yelled when it didn’t. You had the awful tendency to lose pieces, and it drove Changbin nuts.

When you settle down on a Disney themed puzzle, Changbin starts the sorting and you prepare drinks and snacks. For the background, you put on a Disney movie - it had to be on theme - and settle down next to your best friend.

Soon, the apartment is filled with whimsical music and Changbin’s screams, and both of you forget the rest for a little while.

After lunch, Changbin gets a work call and has to head to the Trades for some paperwork, so you settle in front of your computer to try and get some work done too.

Two hours later, you let out a long sigh, looking away from your screen to rub your eyes. It’s not necessarily that you’re having trouble focusing, but there’s something at the back of your mind that just won’t go away. You know exactly what it is, but you don’t want to acknowledge it - if you do, you’ll have to really think about it, and you’re just not in the mood.

You have work to do. Projects to continue, deadlines to meet. Although it’s felt like it the past couple of days, time hasn’t slowed down. Life goes on.

The sky is gray, the weather cold and wet. You try to focus on things you can control so you’re not haunted by those you can’t.

Jisung leaving in two days, for example.

Fuck.

Don’t think about that.

Your throat feels dry, so you stand up to get yourself something to drink. As you do, someone knocks on your door.

It’s Jisung.

He leans against the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you busy?”

“Yes,” you sigh.

He doesn’t listen to you. “We need to go somewhere.”

You frown. “I thought you were busy today.”

“It’s related to that. Come on.”

“Give me a minute.”

You let him in as you head towards your room to exchange your pajama pants for a pair of jeans, and you grab your jacket before you head out.

Jisung slips his hand in yours, keeping it secured there. He guides you through your neighborhood, refusing to tell you what is going on until you reach a building you know too well. The Scene.

“Ji, why are you taking me here…”

“Just wait.”

You realize Changbin, Felix, and Minho are there too. Changbin’s eyes are glistening with tears. A pang of worry hits you, but you quickly realize he’s actually laughing.

“Oh, you made it, good,” Changbin says. “I think he’s just about to get out.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“You’ll love this,” Jisung smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

That’s when the doors of the Scene burst open. A guy in a suit exits the building, quickly followed by someone screaming at the top of their lungs. You immediately recognize Jun-woo’s voice. He’s hurling insults at the suit, his face red.

“I DO NOT HAVE A RAT PROBLEM,” he screams. “I don’t know how the FUCK these guys bribed you, but -”

“Sir, if you keep insinuating that I received -”

“I’VE NEVER SEEN A RAT IN MY LIFE!”

You gape at the scene, putting a hand over your mouth - Changbin is openly laughing, however. Minho, too. You glance at Jisung, who is just smiling.

“Do you have something to do with this?” you whisper to him as Jun-woo is still screaming at the guy in the suit, who is clearly an inspector of some kind.

Jisung only shrugs, but the sparkle of mischief in his eyes tells you everything you need to know. You let out a giggle.

“This is ridiculous! I’m going to report you to -”

“This is your notice. You have a week to bring the issues to regulation. Of course, you’ll have to close business until the next inspection, which should be two weeks from now…”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME -”

Changbin’s laugh echoes through the street, full of delight, and he leans against Minho for support. Jun-woo’s head sharply turns to you, his eyes full of fury. You can’t stop laughing, however.

“DID YOU DO THIS?” he yells at Changbin.

Your friend shakes his head. “Aw, man, a rat problem? That’s just too bad…”

Jun-woo looks like he’s about to throw a punch at him, but Minho takes a step towards him, looking straight into his eyes.

“Looks like our concert is canceled. How disappointing.”

There’s a calmness in his tone that seems to burst Jun-woo’s anger, because his face pales and his shoulders drop. He throws a middle finger at all of you, then at the guy in the suit, and storms back inside the Scene. You bite your lip and hide your face in Jisung’s neck, holding your stomach because it hurts too much from laughing.

“Suck on that!” Felix tells Jun-woo as he disappears, a wide grin across his face.

Jisung’s breath tickles your ear.

“Told you,” he whispers. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You turn to him, gently take his face in your hands, and bring his lips to yours. The kiss is delicate, given with all the tenderness you have, with a love you’re afraid to feel.

Still, it’s true. You love him.

“What?” Jisung asks you as you stare at him.

You shrug. “Nothing. I just…”

The words get stuck in your throat.

I love you. I don’t want you to leave.

I don’t want you to leave me loving you.

You know there is no way for him to stay. He has a tour to complete, a career to pursue. Side Effects are only getting started, and you want them to follow their path because you know it will lead to the stars. They belong there, on stage, their instruments in hand, singing words that change lives, blasting melodies that remind you of what is worth it.

You realize you’ve gotten lost in thought, and you feel Jisung’s hand on your cheek. It’s a little cold, but soft. You glance up at him, and you can see the reflection of your anguish in his eyes. He looks so lost in this instant, you want to make it all go away, but at the same time it is comforting to know you are not alone. Neither of you say it - but you can read it in his eyes.

This sucks.

Jisung gently kisses your forehead and pulls you into his arms. You hug him tightly, breathing in the scent that has gotten so familiar so quickly. You love to feel his leather jacket. The shirt underneath.

“You trust me?” he tells you in a low voice.

You nod against his chest.

He pulls out his phone but you stay there as he types something, his other hand stroking your hair. After a minute he leans in your ear.

“Follow me.”

He slides his hand in yours and you wave goodbye to the others, hurrying away in the opposite direction. You don’t even ask him where you are going - you would let him take you anywhere.

Across town, across the country, across the world.

Jisung glances at his phone a few times as you walk, keeping his other hand secured in yours. It only takes less than ten minutes for you to reach your destination, and once you see the lettering on the front window, you break into a grin.

“No way,” you laugh.

Jisung squeezes your hand and gives you a nod. His big, heart-shaped smile makes your heart flutter.

“Let’s do it,” you agree without any hesitation.

The tattoo shop is miraculously not very busy, so the guy behind the front desk is able to book you an appointment in less than an hour later. You sit down in the couches in the corner, pulling the big binders full of designs to decide what you are going to get.

“It has to be the same,” Jisung states decisively. “So we can just see it and remember each other forever.”

“Ji…”

“I won’t forget,” he adds, not looking at you. “But I want to keep a piece of you with me.”

Your heart is a mess, and you almost want to burst into tears, but you only reach out and take his hand.

“Ji,” you say gently. “Look at me?”

He looks up then, his wide eyes shimmering in the soft light.

“Then I don’t want somebody else’s drawing. Let’s sketch something together, yeah?”

He breaks into a grin, his cheeks begging to be kissed, so you quickly give him a peck before you go ask the tattoo artist for a piece of paper.

You sit close to Jisung, discussing ideas. He lets you doodle, giving you his insight, joking about perhaps getting a tattoo of a cheeseburger or the shape of your cleavage. Eventually, you simply draw a little star.

“For my rock star,” you whisper to Ji, and he kisses you.

“I love it.”

He suggests adding another star inside, drawn black, and you finalize with a few lines around it to make it seem like it’s shining. It’s simple, cute, and absolutely perfect.

Jisung goes first and giggles as the artist tattoos his inner arm. When it’s your turn, Jisung insists on holding your hand although it doesn’t hurt much. It barely takes half an hour to finish the tattoos, and soon you’re back outside with a piece of each other in your skin, carefully covered in plastic, already healing, both inside and out.

You head back to your place, stopping on the way to buy donuts for dinner - Jisung insists - put on some music and crash on the couch. You eat too many donuts and get a sugar rush, dancing and singing on Green Day and Evanescence, making out until your lips hurt. You keep glancing at your new tattoos, exchanging excited smiles.

As the sun starts to settle down, you get a call from Changbin telling you to come by the Trades. You and Jisung make it there fifteen minutes later, where your best friend, Seungmin, and the other members are waiting.

Since the Scene is forced to close its doors, Side Effects is also forced to relocate their concert. Fortunately, the Trades is still available. How convenient, Seungmin says with a smile. Once the signatures are down, you all get outrageously drunk and only leave the Trades at almost four in the morning.

Jisung insists on sleeping at your place, so you snuggle in your bed this time. You’re exhausted but neither of you want to sleep. You get undressed and Jisung climbs on top of you, spending long minutes kissing your neck, collarbone and breasts. He swirls his tongue on your skin, pinches your nipples, whispers words of love and futile promises. You let him, because you want to believe him, because you don’t want to think about their impossibility.

He fucks you deep and slow, pinning you down on the mattress, grunting in your ear. The sex is passionate, almost desperate, clinging onto the last minutes of your time together, making it last as long as you can. You close your eyes, imprinting the sound, the taste, the feel of him. His hair tickling your forehead. His parted mouth, his delicious lips. His legs tangled around yours. His cock, filling every part of you, his thumb teasing your clit, his fingers digging in the skin of your waist. You could never get sick of the way he thrusts into you, of the way he looks at you, of how you fit together so well it feels unreal.

When you’re done, you lay down next to each other naked, and Jisung steals most of the covers. You don’t mind - it gives you an excuse to stay close to him, and you steal one last glance at your matching tattoos in the moonlight, smiling to yourself. Jisung is almost asleep. You touch his hair lightly, pushing it back, brushing the soft skin of his cheeks. There are tears in your eyes, peace in your heart, fire in your lungs.

“You promise you won’t forget?” you whisper.

He opens his eyes slightly and smiles, his face half hidden in the pillow.

“I could never, baby. And if you doubt it, check your little star. Remember I have the same.”

“But what if you do?” you say.

He shakes his head and pulls you close, settling a dozen kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck and ears.

“I could never, baby,” he repeats. “I could never.”

The next day, you have to work quickly to get everything ready for the concert, but you are all so hyped it is just fun. Everyone is excited, and the next hours are some of the best moments you’ve ever had at the Trades. You blast music as you decorate the place, Jisung sits you on his lap to show you how to play the actual drums, and you get pizza delivered while the members do their sound check.

There’s a lineup outside, and the atmosphere is electric.

Minutes before the concert starts, a few of you gather in the dressing room for a shot and encouragement. The atmosphere is festive, but Jisung keeps stealing glances at you, and you can see worry in his eyes. There’s something in his expression that troubles you, but you imagine it must be the stress.

After a few cheers, people leave the room, the members heading for the stage. You’re about to follow them when you feel a hand around your wrist.

“Stay,” Jisung whispers to you.

You look at him curiously but you nod. Both of you wait until everyone is out, and then Jisung hurries to the door, closes it, and then locks it. You frown.

“What are you doing?” you say.

Jisung doesn’t answer you - he just puts his hands on your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss, pushing you at the same time against the counter where a variety of makeup, accessories, snacks and empty glasses are laid down. It catches you off guard, but you softly kiss him back although it tears your heart apart. He’s leaving tomorrow.

He’s leaving tomorrow.

Jisung cups your ass, lifting you slightly so you sit on the counter, pushing his body between your legs. His lips are eager, his kisses feverish.

“Ji,” you whisper. “What is -”

“Just a second,” he shrugs.

“Ji…”

He kisses you again, and he does it so well you can’t help but fall into it, sighing slightly against his embrace. All you want is to forget. To enjoy your time with him before he leaves. You don’t want to think about the rest. You really don’t. Still, your thoughts come back to haunt you. He leaves tomorrow.

He leaves tomorrow.

You push the thoughts away.

You kiss him.

He kisses you.

And then he stops. He pulls away from you, his lips still eager, his eyes agitated like a storm.

“Ji?” you say.

Jisung suddenly looks agitated, taking a few steps back, pulling at his hair. He messes up the way the hairstylist took care to put it, but it removes nothing from his look. With his patched jeans, ripped jacket and jewelry, he is a rock star.

“What is it?” you ask faintly.

His voice is hoarse, his eyes dark. “I just… I don’t know if…”

“Did I do something?”

“No, not at all,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s just…”

You look at him quietly, giving him the time he needs to gather his thoughts. Your heart is a bundle of nerves.

“Here goes nothing,” Jisung sighs. “I know I’m leaving tomorrow, but I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

He says it so simply, like the words mean something else entirely, and yet in his eyes is an anguish that can’t lie. He scratches his head. As for you, you are entirely speechless.

“What?” you mutter.

“Yeah, I know. Intense, huh? But it’s true.”

You try to make sense of his words, but you can only stare back at him. He lets out a nervous chuckle.

“I want to know what you think. I need to know.”

After a few long seconds, you let out a long sigh, and you hate the way your voice trembles.

“Ji, you have to go on stage.”

“Just answer me,” he says, voice trembling.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” you whisper.

“What?”

“I said it doesn’t matter,” you repeat, your voice breaking.

Suddenly all the words start to come out, unregulated, confused.

“Tomorrow you’ll leave this city and probably never come back,” you continue. “We’ll never see each other again. Why would you care about what I think?”

“Don’t say shit like that…”

“But it’s true!” you cry out. “You’ll leave and you’ll forget me and -”

“I won’t.”

You shake your head, standing on shaky legs, and Jisung approaches you. He takes your hands, gently, and squeezes them.

“I won’t forget you. I told you,” he says.

You shake your head. “You say that now but you don’t know that. You’ll meet another person in another place and it -”

“No, Y/N, you don’t get it,” he says in a firm voice. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Anyone that made me feel like you do, anyone that made me want to stay so fucking bad. I’ve always wanted to leave. Or I didn’t care. But not now. Now I don’t want to leave. It makes me fucking insane to think that I have to, that I’ll have to leave you, that you will forget me.”

Your eyes are filled with tears. You shake your head again and again.

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do,” he laughs. “Fuck, you think I meant it? Don’t you think that fucking random people and not remember their names is not a way to forget the fact that I can never allow myself to love anyone? All I can do is grasp, for an hour or two, at the semblance of intimacy, and hold it in my hands, and taste what it’s like? Do you think I don’t want to love? Of course I fucking do. But I can’t. I can’t, because everytime I have to leave.”

He laughs again, and it’s an odd sound. Delighted, angry, lost.

“And now you make me fucking fall in love with you,” he whispers.

“That’s not love, Jisung, you barely know me -”

“It is. I know what love is. I saw you in the shadows backstage that first time and I knew I was fucked. I buried it under desire and curiosity because I couldn’t face it but all of that fucking drama ripped my pretentions apart. All I want is to be with you. To get to know you. To watch you draw, to write songs for you, to…”

“Jisung…”

“What?”

“You’re not being fair.”

You look up in his eyes.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

His lower lip trembles. “Can’t you wait for me?”

“You can’t ask me that,” you say. “You might never come back.”

“Then come with me.”

You frown. “My life is here.”

“You’ll come back. Tour isn’t forever. We love this place. We’ll find a way.”

You stare at him in disbelief. The room is so quiet your ears are buzzing. And then, suddenly, someone starts pounding on the door. The loud noise startles you.

“Ji? Are you still in there?”

It’s Chris. Jisung ignores him.

“We don’t have to think that far ahead,” he says with a soft smile “You might grow to hate me, or me you. For now I just don’t want to leave you. Please.”

You look down at his hands. Chris is still knocking on the door.

“You want me to go on tour with you?”

He nods fervently.

“Yeah.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“HAN JISUNG, OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW…”

You pinch your lips, looking at the door anxiously.

“Ji…”

“It’s the best, you’ll see,” he tells you, eyes shining bright. “We meet so many different people, and no city is the same. We can wander around, try restaurants, walk on beaches, fuck in the tour van…”

“For fuck’s sake…”

“C’mon.”

“All right.”

He was going to say something but stops - your sudden agreement takes him by surprise. It does the same to you, too. But you don’t want to think about it. You just want to live. And his words echo in his mind. For now, you just don’t want to leave him.

He slides his arm around your waist. “For real?”

You nod, smiling. “Yeah.”

“You’ll come on tour with me?”

“Yes,” you laugh.

“Fuck, you’re my dream girl.”

He kisses you again, and it feels so much less desperate than before - it’s full of passion, full of joy. You grin against his lips, feeling your own heart accelerate out of excitement.

“JI, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR A QUICKIE, WE HAVE TO GO ON STAGE NOW,” Chris rages on the other side of the door, still knocking on it with all his might.

You smile at Jisung.

What the hell are you doing?

You have no idea.

You really don’t care.

“Go, now,” you tell him, laughing. “GO!”

He grins, giving you one last kiss before he runs to the door. When he opens it, Chris is staring at him from the other side, exasperated.

“Come on, you fucking fool,” he hisses, grabbing Jisung by the shirt to drag him away.

You laugh again, and take a second to breathe in. You check your reflection, wipe away a little of smudged makeup, and you follow the sound of the crowd.

The concert is amazing. Mindblowing, even. The guys have amazing energy, as they did last time, but there’s something special about tonight, you can just feel it. Their smiles are broad. They play intensely, playfully, feverishly. You find yourself singing and dancing for the two hours they fill with Trades with delightful noise and electric passion.

You wait for Jisung backstage, and when the show ends, he grabs you in his arms and kisses you in the dark. He’s covered in sweat and shaking with adrenaline, and it sweeps you off your feet.

His tongue rolls around yours and he pushes you against the wall where various cords and equipment are displayed, ready to be used, and you feel someone tap your shoulder.

“Find a room, yeah? Some of us are trying to work, here.”

It’s Hyunjin, looking both amused and annoyed. You giggle, Jisung’s lips on your neck, and you take his hand to guide him away from sight. The crowd is still loud, the noise of the excitement is covered by deafening music, and you don’t even know where everyone is - you feel in a rush, like you're in the delirium of a fever.

You open the door to a tiny room where equipment is stored, locking it behind you. Jisung throws a few things off a huge amp and sits you on it. He’s grinning and eager for your lips, panting against you. You’re both so pumped on adrenaline you don’t even exchange a word as he opens his pants and you lift your skirt, pushing aside your underwear so he can enter you. You’re not worried, you’re already soaked.

A groan escapes your lips as he pushes deep inside of you, and Jisung leaves wet kisses all around your neck, his breathing erratic. He doesn’t lose time and starts moving frantically, slamming his hips into yours, fucking you deep.

“Fuck, Ji,” you whimper.

“My favorite girl,” he whispers in your ear. “My favorite pussy.”

“Keep fucking me hard, Ji. Don’t let me go.”

He nods, a hand secured behind your head to hold you against him. His fingers delve between your legs, teasing your wetness. You moan his name, your thoughts erratic, so full of him, full of his frenzy and your promises and future together. You swing your hips to meet him, already on the edge of your orgasm, and you dig your fingers in his back.

“Ji, I’m coming,” you cry out.

“Come for me, baby,” he grunts, fucking you even faster.

You come undone around him, writhing against the thrusts of his hips, because Jisung doesn’t stop, he doesn’t leave you a second to breathe.”

“Oh, God, yes,” he breathes, “keep clenching, just like that, I’m gonna -”

“Fucking come inside me, please -”

“FUCK!”

He throbs inside of you, coming fast and deep. You shiver against him, Jisung’s labored breathing mixing with yours.

It takes a few seconds for the both of you to open your eyes, and then Jisung gives you a bright and adoring smile.

“Fuck, that felt good,” he chuckles.

“You said it,” you reply, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

He removes himself from you, glancing down between your legs.

“I made a mess.”

“We made a mess,” you repeat mischievously.

Giggling like teenagers, you open the door of the storage room to glance around, and finding the corridors empty, hurry to the bathroom where you can clean up a little bit. You keep laughing, never really taking your hands off each other. Once you’re ready, you head to the dressing room, finding everyone passing around a bottle of champagne.

You spend the next hours celebrating. It’s loud and chaotic, but all of your people are there, and you can’t get enough of any of them. Jisung never leaves your side, stealing kisses and sneaky caresses, and you have to slap his hand away, a smile upon your lips.

And then it all falls quiet.

The audience is gone. The bar is closed and cleaned. The stage is empty. Everyone has gone home or to party - well, almost everyone.

Changbin sits at the bar, going through papers. Even at this hour of the day, he’s working. You admire his dedication - but you know it’s also your job to tell him when to stop, sometimes.

You approach him, placing a hand on his arm and sitting down next to him. He looks up at you with small eyes but a content smile.

“Hey, Bin.”

“Why aren’t you home?” he asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“Wanted to check up on you.”

He nods, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah. It’s late, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

You wrap your arm around his, settling your head there. It’s silent around you but your ears are still buzzing from the noise.

“Binnie,” you say softly. “I have to tell you something.”

“I know, Y/N.”

You look up at him in surprise. He just smirks at you.

“You’re leaving with them, aren’t you?”

You don’t know why you’re so surprised. Of course Changbin would know - he knows you better than anyone. Of course he would have anticipated this. You let out a sigh.

“Just for a while.”

“I’m glad you are.”

A scoff escapes your lips.

“That eager to get rid of me?”

“Of course not,” he tells you softly. “I’ll miss you a lot. But I think doing something like this is… You.”

You laugh a little, rubbing your nose against his shirt. His head falls on yours, and you close your eyes.

“Just promise me you’ll come back.”

You nod. “Of course. I’m always just a call away, Bin.”

He takes a deep breath and you do the same. You stay like that for a while - just breathing, just taking in the quiet.

You’ll miss him.

You’ll miss this.

But you’ll come back. For now the unknown awaits you, a handsome and slightly mad drummer by your side.

“This is the tour van?” you say.

It’s nothing like you imagined - although you’re not sure what you imagined, exactly. It’s more a minivan than anything, and you’re not even sure how it holds more than five people. It’s also a very weird orange color, but that doesn’t really bother you.

You arch an eyebrow at Jisung.

“How do you expect us to fuck in there?”

He just smiles, of course. “We’ll find a way.”

You smack his shoulder and he chuckles, taking your bags to secure them in the trunk. It’s a beautiful day, sunny, not too warm. Changbin helped you finish packing early this morning and insisted on accompanying you to the Trades, where the van was coming to pick you up.

You didn’t bring much. Clothes, warm and light. Your computer, headphones, chargers. Two pairs of shoes. That’s all you really need. You haven’t forgotten anything, but you’re biting your lip nervously, your heart going so fast you’re scared it will explode. Did you make the right decision?

Should you really leave?

Will you regret it?

You might. But there will always be time to come back. You’re not on contract. You just want to enjoy life a little. The tour life can’t be that bad - and you’ll be with Jisung and the others.

Changbin is talking with Seugnmin right beside you, the latter promising to call the Trades as soon as they come back to town. In the midst of your anxiety, you’ve gone over your decision with your best friend for hours last night, and Changbin almost smacked you. Just do it, Y/N.

Just go.

So you are going. You smile nervously at Jisung as he gestures inside the van. Felix, Minho and Chris are already there, waiting more or less patiently.

“Come on, let’s hurry it up,” Minho complains. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Felix nods. “I want McNuggets.”

“You always want McNuggets,” Chris replies without looking up from his phone.

You smile to yourself - this is the kind of bickering that will fill your ears for the next couple of weeks. The most wonderful background noise.

Changbin pulls you into a last hug, and you tear up against him. You already miss him, but you know he won’t be alone here. He has the Trades. Hyunjin, Jeongin, Yuna, Wooyoung, the others. And he promised that if Jun-woo bothered him, he’d just have to send him back the picture of a rat to scare him off. You make him promise to call you for the thousandth time, and he lets you go.

You go back to Jisung’s side, who is grinning at you, looking handsome in his black hoodie and ripped jeans.

“You ready?” Jisung asks you, giving your hand a squeeze.

You glance back at Changbin one last time, who smiles and gives you a nod. You breathe in, and do the same.

“I’m ready.”

The end ♡ Thank you so much for all your love on this series, I didn't expect it, truly! I'm so glad you enjoyed Drummer Jisung and I hope to write more of him in the future if you are interested. Lots of love your way ♡

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @tanyas97 ; @raspbinniecreme

• story taglist: @mintquokka ; @septicrebel ; @is2cb97 ; @dirah-h ; @bokk-minnie ; @allypasta ; @strawberriesandknives ; @drhsthl ; @hyunjins-red-lights ; @thesunsfullmoon ; @hanstan34 ; @hanjiphile ; @brit97 ; @downbadreading ; @phobia0325 ; @multinci ; @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan ; @jisungxident

#han smut #han x reader #han x y/n #han x you #han jisung smut #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #skz smut #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you

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thelostgirl21 · 5 months

Text

Congratulations on these two for the smoothest lute exchange in TV history...

Because I literally can't tell you at what point exactly it managed to change hands.

I had to return and watch the scene, just to go check if we could catch a glimpse of Jaskier holding his lute while talking with Yarpen after his meeting with Radovid (spoilers alert: we can, but it's easy to miss), because I was mentally going "Wait. Do we ever see Radovid handing Jaskier his lute back, or did he just... put it down against one of his legs while the camera switched to Philippa, for Jaskier to pick up later?"

1.Like ok, so the last time we see Radovid holding the lute in that scene, it's in his left hand, and he takes a few steps closer to Jaskier to express how he'd love for him to become his bard and suggest he should totally move in with him already so they can start a new life together talk while momentarily excluding Philippa from the conversation.

2. Jaskier tries to resist the puppy dog eyes play it cool remembering how he attempted to start living with Geralt and offered to become his bard as soon as he started squishing on him; and how, although things eventually did work out between them (and they now have this whole queerplatonic family dynamic going on), maybe he wouldn't have gotten so brokenhearted if he'd taken things with him a bit slower? And adjusted his expectations in accordance with what Geralt was willing or able to offer back then, maybe?, and pretend he's totally not intrigued and aroused by the offer.

3. Radovid steps in even closer to make sure he has all of Jaskier's attention, while attempting to convince him that he would gladly let him tie him up and explore whatever kink he might have one can find plenty of ways to make life at court fun and exciting.

4. Philippa decides to play chaperone, because she's never taken Radovid outside for a walk on her own before, is not 100% sure if the prince has been trained to properly behave in public when he's not at court, knows Jaskier has literally no shame, and she'd rather get between these two now before they are given any opportunity to start making out and humping each other right in the middle of the fucking town's square! to step in closer to issue a few threats, for good measure.

5. Jaskier briefly looks like he's trying to sniff her finds the interruption quite rude and intimidating, yet stands his ground as he is unwilling to let her force him to back away from his prospective mate.

6. Philippa and Radovid , whose brain was so busy making out the shape of Jaskier's body through the very thin fabric of his shirt, that he only took from that whole conversation that he and Jaskier are having a date in five days, take their leave.

7. Jaskier is left trying to catch his breath while dealing with an awkward boner as he watches the prince leave leave, only to be interrupted by Yarpen Zigrin that has apparently just been standing there, silently watching the very rare and fascinating courtship display between a wild bard and a domestic prince...

8. Aaand, as Jaskier turns to greet him, we can catch a brief glimpse of the lute's pegbox that Jaskier seems to now be holding in his right hand. And Yarpen's puzzled, slightly traumatized expression, pondering what on Earth he's just witnessed, and how that complete pansexual disaster of a bard still manages to get laid so often.

Therefore, we can assume that the lute moved from Radovid's left hand to Jaskier's right hand anywhere in between 3 and 4...

But, with the way these two were so engrossed in each other by the time they got close enough to make the exchange, I'm trying to figure out how that went...

Like, try approaching your crush having this very intense conversation with them while continuously holding their gaze...

...and, at the same time, attempt signaling to them that you wish to give them back the object that you are holding, without any of you two looking down to see where the object or the other person's hand is.

There is visually and verbally a complete lack of acknowledgement that anything else is happening between them in that scene! It's uncanny!

Like if I'd been in Radovid's place, I'd probably have been awkwardly bumping the lute against Jaskier's right arm or leg while trying to figure out where his hand actually is; and then waiting to feel a little tug on it to make sure he's holding it securely before letting it go.

If I'd been in Jaskier's place, I'd probably have been trying to make physical contact with any recognizable part of the lute and then followed a path to its neck. Or, if I was feeling particularly bold, touched Radovid's arm and then caressed it all the way down to his hand to go place mine above or below the place where he's holding the lute's neck.

There would have been some slightly noticeable fumbling around involved, one way or another, at the very least.

But somehow, nothing could break the very sustained, sharp, and constant sexual tension focus between them while they were eye fucking each other talking and Radovid managed to give Jaskier back his lute.

These two can go from the awkwardest and most dissynchronized

to the smoothest and most seamless social interactions in a matter of seconds, I swear!

#Radovid #Jaskier #Radskier #My Posts #My Thoughts #My Stuff #Things I randomly hyperfocus on...#Apparently...

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pancakes-with-grounded-hazelnuts · 1 month

Text

hsr: 2.1 spoilers

thoughts on firefly (LONG AND UNPOLISHED BUT I MUST SCREAM)

- - -

just to get it out of the way, i love that firefly is sam.

also what i’m about to share is a mix of interpretation and headcanon based on how i would write her. NOT INTENDED TO BE A THEORY OR A PROPER ANALYSIS OF CANON.

and i’m not going through all of samfire’s dialogue and lore for this because if i did that for every post expressing my thoughts i’d never post anything ever.

- - -

i propose: “firefly” is sam’s dream.

imagine this: you are a killer. one with strength and perception far beyond any mortal being. when an enemy is caught by your senses, their life ends before they ever knew the fear of your presence. this is what you were made to be, and this is all that you are. you can’t even dream…but you can imagine.

what if you were instead, a mortal? one with lovely eyes the color of the night sky lit by a bustling city below. you’ve always looked to a starry sky fondly, and longingly. so incomprehensibly vast - each speck of light was a unique something, forming a great sea of possibilities, but all too far from your reach. what could be a better fit?

and what if instead of the one role you were made for, you had many roles? this young mortal is an actor! sure, actors read off a script as well, but each story woven by the script was different. each has its own destiny. you ponder what it’s like to be bound to multiple destinies, rather than just the one.

and you continue to ponder. each day this imaginary “you” becomes more and more realized. and now that you have finished imagining, you begin to wish: that between the checkpoints of fate, the brief moments of freedom will let you play as this “you”. but you know that’s all it is: play. you can never escape your true nature…right?

- - -

UH. BASICALLY. i headcanon firefly as sam’s wishful persona manifested in the dream world.

that being said, that doesn’t make firefly any less real to me.

firefly herself even asserts that what one experiences in a dream is still true and valid, but when sam speaks, they seem resigned to what they believe is their “nature”, like they can only be the type of person firefly is in a fabricated world.

without the constraints of the waking world, sam can be a kind and lively young woman who can make friends on her own, and has a job - a purpose - where as a performer, obeying the scripts brings delight instead of blood. and it was such a wonderful experience that they didn’t want to wake up from it.

i don’t yet know how much sam fully validates their “firefly” self beyond the feelings being real, but the way they behave and describe themselves to acheron when they’re sam suggests that they don’t believe they can also truly be “firefly” at the same time.

also i’m mainly going off of the idea that firefly’s appearance can only be easily manifested in the dream world, and that sam’s “armor” is truly just their body, but i believe this headcanon still works even if it is armor, because it is more about the mentality.

of course there are some glaring constraints in reality that prevents them from being able to do certain things (at the moment), but the way sam views themselves also constrains them far more than they realize. if sam wishes to be firefly, then sam IS firefly. and once they realize that, they don’t have to strictly act and identify in the way they believe they should.

sam’s scripts have always been brief, and i wonder…is it just because sam is simple in their skills and approach to their work? or is it because between the inescapable events one calls destiny, between the tasks sam must fulfill, they can do or be whatever they choose?

- - -

that was a very roundabout way to say that i think samfire is trans.

bonus thoughts:

omg after seeing the reveal, firefly feels more like an affectionate parody of the character we were meant to think she is. hc sam watched and read a lot of romcoms and was like…damn i wish that was me. i wish i was a cute girl with fluffy hair going on a date with the trailblazer, but alas i am but a 8 ft tall murder robot. GIRL YOU CAN BE BOTH.

i also like that this idea highlights a more positive side to dreaming, in contrast to the rest of the penacony story so far. yes, one can’t slumber forever, but is a rest - a respite - not needed from time to time? and just as reality can follow one into their dream, can dreams not also be with you when you wake?

#honkai star rail #hsr 2.1 spoilers #hsr firefly #god i hope i don’t regret posting this #this fandom scares me #yet for some reason i must share #if this gets too much attention i’m deleting it #i can’t believe i’m not talking about jingliu for once

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sketches4mysw33theart · 2 months

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Omnia Redit Ad Pulverem

Omnia Redit Ad Pulverem ~ Everything Returns To Dust

Henry Winter (The Secret History) Story

Warnings: Minor TSH plot spoilers, murder (ofc)

Synopsis: The murder of Bunny, from the eyes of Henry Winter's partner

It was quiet. Too quiet. We'd all heard the fateful thump around 30 seconds before, but still, we stood there staring at the edge of the ravine like rabbits poking their noses out of their warrens. Twitching in the silence, waiting on tenterhooks for the oncoming predator. Charles risked a look at Camilla, but her thoughtless eyes remained on the slippery tracks that led over the drop. Besides that, we were as still as a photograph.

Of course, it was Henry who moved first. It was always Henry who moved first. He broke the heavy quiet with the snap of a twig beneath his polished shoe, sweeping the tumbling locks of hair that hung over his forehead back into place as he tentatively approached the edge. "Careful," Camilla called, reaching out a hand as though to stop him. He waved her back without a glance and poked his head over the ravine.

For an infinite moment, Henry stood there looking over the edge, his body a mass of black, a tumultuous thundercloud in the otherwise clear countryside sky. With a heavy exhalation, he stepped back again and turned to face us all. He confirmed our worst wish with a curt nod.

It was like a green light for us. Everyone moved at once, I to place a hand on Henry's arm, Camilla to grasp Charles' sleeve, him to lean close and whisper to her in response, Francis to press his knuckles into his forehead with a loud groan, Richard to blink stupidly as though someone had turned on the overhead light in a dark room and turn to look at us all in bewilderment.

Only Henry remained still. He was staring ahead, seemingly at nothing, the swaying silent trees of the ravine's forest reflecting in the circles of his glasses, menacingly disguising the icy blue of his eyes.

The clearing was full of murmurs from the others, who were shuffling on their feet, tentatively making their way to the edge. I stayed by Henry's side, watching him curiously as he stared off into nothingness for a moment. His guarded face gave nothing away, and his shielded eyes made my guts feel like ice.

I wanted to do something - say his name, shake him, turn back time. But, I could do none of these things, and so I stayed staring at him with a heavy weight in my stomach as the others edged their way closer to peep down into the Hell that waited below.

When Henry did move, mere seconds later, it was as though someone was pressing play on a VHS. He sprung to life, immediately turning to look over the edge, his chin deliberately pointed, eyes glittering. Gently but with intent, he tugged me back with a hand on my sleeve, away from the edge, away from the grooves in the dirt where Bunny's desperate hands had tried to take hold. Staying where I was put, I lightly wrapped my fingers around his wrist, a little support, and glanced at the others.

Francis had gone pale and refused to get too close to the edge of the ravine. He made a show of poking his head over, but he couldn't have seen much and did not leave it over there long enough to see more. The others looked on with the same morbid curiosity that I'm sure was glistening in my eyes, but their high inquisitiveness pushed them towards the edge while the protective nature of Henry kept me back from it.

And, yet, he wanted me to go with him to make sure the deed was done. I knew. He'd turned to give me a pointed look as he'd mumbled the necessity for someone to go down for a closer look. But I was glad that Camilla was so ready to volunteer. She had a stronger stomach and a steelier heart than me. She gave me a fleeting smile as she walked deliberately past me, leaving a little pat on my hand as she went.

Instead, I sat on the dew-damp trunk of a fallen tree by the ravine's edge with Francis, who was cradling his head in his hands, glazed eyes staring over the infinite edge and alternately busying his mouth with a flaming cigarette and mumblings of woe. Being closer to the edge, I could see, with a sickening twinge to my stomach, Henry approaching Bunny, searching for a pulse, luridly rolling his head about, bringing to ghastly light the one trickle of blood on the otherwise unblemished face. Those same fingers that explored the spaces between my own so gently now prodding harshly at cooling flesh, the hands which guided me through crowded places and up steep stairs tightly gripping a fistful of sandy hair to move the head. Camilla stood several feet behind him, watching warily but maintaining a full view of Bunny over Henry's shoulder.

Bun's eyes were open, a glacial lake reflection beneath his broken glasses of the ravine, the sky, our cloud-like faces floating above. It was a miracle Francis didn't lean far enough over to see. Not that miracles had helped any of the rest of us.

With an unsteady hand and even less steady words, I tried to comfort Francis, but I didn't think he could even hear me. He did, however, hear the approaching footsteps as Henry and Camilla returned.

They didn't say anything in response to our flood of questions. They didn't have to. "Has everyone got everything?" Henry asked briskly after moments of pregnant silence, sweeping the clearing with his falcon-like eyes.

We all bumbled around the clearing for a few seconds, checking for any dropped belongings before moving back as one into the safe dankness of the wind-swept forest and heading back to Henry's car.

Although I had been privy to the rituals my classmates had been trying to achieve, I was wary of them. Not only were they dangerous, even in print, but they were also incredibly complex, with historical recounts that were sketchy at best. But, more than that, was Bunny's surprising eagerness to be involved.

I had known Henry and Bunny the longest of anyone from the Greek class, having met them both on our collective first day at Hampden, when they were introduced to one another as roommates in freshman year. I'd also had the incredible misfortune of being pulled into the Corcoran clan that same day, who had come to help their boy move in but were seemingly ready to do so themselves.

Now, I may not have understood much in the world too implicitly besides Greek and Henry's secret smile, but I could say for sure that I knew Bunny. I knew what he was capable of. And, more to the point, what he was not. As such, I had chosen not to take part.

Yet, when things had gone pear-shaped, as I inevitably knew they would, it seemed that I was the only person Henry wanted to see. The night after the murder of the poor farmer, after Henry had slept for long-lost hours, he came to me with thunder clouds in his eyes and trembling lips.

I'd sat him down with whiskey-laced tea and listened in fearful incredulity as he'd recounted, with alarming clarity, the events of the previous night. From the drive up to the country house to the gathering of the four on the moonlight-drenched grounds, the roaming through the woods like vengeful sprites to the eyebrow-raising carnality of events, the final, damning image of an innocent man lying at Henry's feet with his life ripped from his limp body to the unfortunate discovery of Bunny on Henry's sofa.

I was speechless. My teacup was twitching between my quivering fingers, untouched by my parted lips. As he drew to the end of his story, Henry sighed heavily and collapsed back into his chair, his elbows resting on the armrests but hands lost beneath my small dining table. His eyes were closed, nostrils flaring, but there was an uncharacteristic smile on his lips.

I had no comfort to give and, quite frankly, did not want to provide any. Not that Henry wanted it either, I don't think. He simply wanted someone who would listen and, in time, understand. That was how it always was between us. Henry may have been only a few leagues behind Einstein in brains, but I was capable of giving him a run for his money when the situation arose. So, we listened to one another, and we understood that, no matter the act, we had done it for the right reasons.

And yet there was no reason for what had happened. Not even any fault. It was simply an accident, albeit an unfortunate one. I asked him some questions, about the ritual, about the state of the others, about the possibility of a next time. We discussed the matter as though we were discussing classes the next morning or going over homework we had yet to do. With the calmness of an ocean, the conversation drew naturally to a close, and we then began to decide whether we should eat out that evening or order something.

I was worried that a headache may come upon Henry in the days after, potentially the worst he'd ever had. But, on the contrary, he seemed content with what had happened. Almost thrilled by it. As though it were some predetermined fate finally coming true. But, that was not the case with what happened next.

I feared from the first that Bunny would present the biggest problem in the situation. The police of Hampden town were bumbling cartoons, the teachers of the college slow and old, the townspeople confined and unaware of others. But Bunny was not. For all of his idiocy, he had a social smartness, a warped understanding of people that simultaneously awed and frightened me, but never more so than during those arduous few weeks. If anybody would sniff this out, it would be him.

And, of course, I was right. What I came to understand rather quickly, though, was that I didn't in fact know Bunny at all. Some of his reactions I had predicted - the anger, the hurt, the pettiness - but his persistence, his narrow-mindedness, the aim of his trajectory and the fragility of his mind I did not. I came to fear him, more on Henry's behalf than my own, and could barely stand to be in the same room as him, let alone remain chummy and nonchalant with him.

I knew Henry had a plan. But he didn't reveal it to me all at once. Only hinted at it, reminding me of the terrible things Bunny had done and dropping little lines such as, 'Don't you want it to all go away?'.

Eventually, though, it came out. Although I insistently disagreed with Henry's diabolical solution from the first moment he hinted towards it in my presence, he pulled his scrupulous trick of drawing me around to his side. Convinced me there was no other solution. It was easy for me, he said. I was not involved in the triggering murder, and I had an alibi to prove it - I was possibly the only one of us in the Greek class to have friends outside of the Lyceum, whom I had met in high school and moved to Hampden with.

And, as time wore on, I was able to reason, with terrifying clarity, with Henry's point of view. Bunny was becoming unbearable. Initially, the jokes were easy to brush off, but when he knew what had truly happened, he was like a bloodhound free of its leash.

Henry, whom Bunny blamed primarily for the mess, managed, in some strange twist, to avoid the heat of his petty wrath. Although it was Henry he was most angry at, it was everyone else who took the brunt of his emotions. It was only because of my closeness to Henry, I believe, that he spared me the misogyny he so delightedly dished out to Camilla. And yet, despite him not knowing I knew, it didn't mean that I was completely out of the firing line.

I found him popping up miraculously wherever I happened to be, trying, as I discovered later via Richard following one of Bunny's drunken rants, to catch me messing around behind Henry's back with an old friend who just so happened to be, in fact, meeting with Francis regularly.

Although he could find no proof, Bunny poked this sore spot like a red button, enjoying my furious rebuttals of his accusations. Not even Henry's warning voice or waning bank account could cease Bun's glorified barking.

At first, Henry had insisted I stay away from the ravine. A white knight gesture. I hadn't been involved thus far, and Henry stressed to me after another debate on the topic that he didn't want me getting involved in this either. I was adamant, however, that I be there by his side. I understood the gravity of the act far more than I believed he did. For days he argued and beat back my insistence that I be involved, until one evening after yet another of Bun's onslaughts, when I'd collapsed in near-tears onto Henry's sofa. Then, finally, did he relent.

And that was how I found myself walking with my head down and fingers tingling, away from the ravine on a late Sunday afternoon, feeling the unseasonal biting chill in the air and thinking, surprisingly, of nothing in particular.

My friends seemed to be having the same experience, walking silently beside me. Out of habit, more than anything, I slid my hand into the crook of Henry's elbow, a comfort in all hard times.

He barely acknowledged the touch besides a squeeze of his inner elbow, a Henry-esque reassurance. I clutched on tighter as the clearing in which we had left the car came into view, no longer illuminated in a weak spring sun but covered in cloudy shadow.

With Richard now in tow, I elected to perch myself on Francis' knee in the front seat. Despite a rocky start, we eventually got on the road, pulling mercifully further and further away from the ravine.

We drove back in silence, a painful comparison to the noisy car rides we normally embarked on, talking and tittering like children. In a way, it was a blessing. My mind was pulsing, and idle chatter might have made it snap.

I occupied myself with the window, careful not to block Francis' view even though he was distracted mercilessly chewing his thumb and unconsciously drumming the fingers of his other hand on my hip with his eyes closed and head leant back against the seat rest. There were warm lights in unfamiliar, welcoming homes as we drove past, twinkling scenes of families eating, playing, and watching television together, all flying past the car window in dream-like snapshots. I was starting to feel a little sick, but fortunately, we made it into town sooner than I realised.

Somewhere along the way, much to everyone's utter surprise, it started snowing, as though, in another torture from the universe, we were thrust back to better times - watching the first snowfall of the previous winter through the windows of the Lyceum, Henry and I choosing to walk, arm-in-arm, to school during the petering end of a snow storm, a snowball fight with myself, Bunny and some of my old friends, watched over by a disgruntled Marion, saying goodbye to one another before we all departed for our separate Christmases. By the time we got back into town, it may as well have been December. This did nothing for my glacial mood.

We all left the car at Francis', where Richard and the twins would make their way home. Camilla, Charles and Richard all left Henry's car with awkward attempts at goodbyes and shocked shivers and groans at the sudden fall of snow. When, finally, Francis had made his sullen way out of the car to reluctantly grab a bucket of soapy water and cloths with which to clean the car, brushing wrinkles from the arms of his suit as he went, I sat back in the front seat and let out a loud sigh.

It seemed a silly question, but I had to ask it anyway. "What are we going to do?" I turned to Henry with eyes that I didn't realise had widened, and he looked back at me momentarily with a vulnerable look that didn't sit right on his set features.

Quickly, he diverted his gaze, looking instead out of the windshield upon the flakes of snow that were beginning to fall at an alarming rate. I knew, somehow, that he was thinking of how this would affect his prized rose bushes.

Pragmatically, he said, "We'll clean the car, and then we'll go home." By home, of course, he meant that I would spend the night at his place. Home was no longer my pokey apartment in an off-campus Hampden building, not far from Charles and Camilla's place.

"But, Henry," I was staring now out of the window too, "look at this snow."

"I know." He was quick to respond, and for the first time, I thought I saw a glimmer of fear fleet across his face out of the corner of my eye. After a moment, he glanced back at me, and I must have looked some kind of state, because he reached over and clasped the back of my hand in his, closing his fingers over to stroke at my palm.

"It'll pass. We'll go to the nice café tomorrow, the one you like, yes?" I managed a smile, one that just managed to satisfy his piercing gaze, and he nodded. "Good. Look, here's Francis. Let's get this done."

Henry and Francis sorted the car with little help from me - I sat inside it watching with awe as the snow fell like a cinematic Christmas morning. Snow, of course, wasn't uncommon in Hampden, but in April? There may as well have been a hurricane blowing through the sleepy mountain town.

It was late when we eventually left Francis' apartment, after a long, anxious discussion on Francis' part and a troubled phone conversation with Richard. I felt terrible leaving poor Francis alone, but I was crazed with fatigue and his fearful ramblings and defensive arguments were elevating my fragile psyche into a paranoiac state.

In the car, Henry held my hand tightly the whole way home, an unusual (but not unwelcome) gesture. I stayed with my forehead against the chilling glass of the window, watching the condensation form from my breath and the snow, still falling steadily, with a numb feeling.

Henry bundled me inside quickly despite the thick darkness, and we pulled off our coats and shoes in silence. Neither of us mentioned the snow, the unsettled faces of the others disappearing into the night, Francis' trembling hands as we left him in his armchair, Bunny at the bottom of the ravine. Truth be told, I barely thought of these things. I barely thought of anything.

We moved through the dimly lit hall, Henry holding a lit oil lamp aloft to illuminate the familiar way. It threw strange shadows onto the walls around us, morphed shapes that danced and twirled as though they were teasing us, moving in closely and then dashing away as we came towards them. God, I was tired.

Henry left me in an armchair in his front room, momentarily in the peace of darkness as he moved to the hallway to collect another lamp. My forehead fell to my hand, cradled between my thumb and middle fingers which massaged the tight skin. I stayed there, massaging my head, when Henry came back into the room, placing one lamp down and lighting two others to illuminate the room. The candles were almost burnt down, I knew, but Henry didn't take the time to replace them yet. Instead, he came instantly back over to stand over me, smelling now of fire and oil.

With a gentle, firm hand, he gripped my wrist and pulled my hand from my face. Now lit by the ominous lamps, I could only see part of his face but, standing out like a thorn among roses, was the scar above his right eye.

I thought he was going to speak, and I watched him thoughtfully waiting for his words. But, instead, he kissed me fiercely, honey on his lips and fire on his tongue, hands anchored on my shoulders and forcing me into the chair, demanding me to stay. I took his aggressive affection and matched it, gripping on to his shirt with vice-like fingers and yanking him closer. He almost fell on top of me with his ferocity, only managing to balance his weight with the grip of his fingers on my shoulders.

Then, like water to fire, Henry released me as gently as he did not kiss me. "Are you okay?" I asked immediately. He took a moment, scanning my face with his shielded eyes, running the thumb of the hand he'd moved to my face along the bone of my cheek.

Bending his knees, he kissed my eyelids, then nodded curtly. Outside, a sudden wind was gaining momentum, blowing someone's hanging shutter back and forth against the wall, and I jumped at the sudden noise.

Unstartled, Henry moved his hand back down to my shoulder and said, "It's only a shutter. I'm going to get a drink. Would you like one?"

Despite my lethargy and the lateness of the hour, I stayed up with him, a glass of whiskey in both of our hands and the noise of the silence putting things into place.

We were quiet so long I thought Henry had slipped off to sleep. Or that I had, and lingered in some terrible dreamscape. My head lay almost flush against my shoulder, eyes fluttering shut, body heavy against the thick, worn cushions. The glass of whiskey was almost out of my hand, my grasp was slackening so.

Then, another gust of wind attacked, and the shocking 'thwack' of the shutter forced a breath of consciousness into my body. I was drowsy and half mad with tiredness, and in my state, momentarily thrashing against the sofa cushions, I mumbled Henry's name.

I felt him next to me, his leg mere centimetres from my own, the warmth and familiar smell of him, and quickly I came to my senses. Batting my eyes open properly, I looked up to Henry.

He was staring thoughtfully at his glass of whiskey, holding it up to the flickering light and watching the amber liquid turn into spun gold. He mumbled almost unintelligibly, "Omnia redit ad pulverem."

I stared at the side of his face, sharp and buttery gold in the soft light. For a moment, I didn't even recognise him. Then, the shadows fell back into place, the lamp's final revolution quelled by the fierceness of the strengthening wind flowing in through the open window, and Henry was back, the shutter outside silenced, the room like twilight once more.

He turned to me with a smile that didn't reach far. "Let's go to bed." With not a word, I agreed, and together we moved to Henry's room while outside the snow fell onto the unsuspecting spring ground, onto the rose bushes in Henry's garden, onto the colossal roofs of Hampden College, onto the budding trees around the town, onto the river that ran through, onto the yellow rain slicker and stiff flesh of someone I had once loved and who I would never see again.

I thought the fitful sleep I had that night, tossing and turning beside Henry, who lay awake until dawn with a book in his lap and his hand clutching my wrist, would be the worst of my life. As ever, I was wrong. There were worse nights to come. Far worse.

#the secret history #tsh #henry winter #francis abernathy #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #richard papen #donna tartt #bunny corcoran

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081314 · 1 year

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Lilia Vanrouge (Vignette) – Bloom Broom Birthday

Following is my translation of the vignette from Lilia Vanrouge’s Bloom Broom Birthday card.

Spoilers after the cut!

Part 1

Lilia: Happy New Year! And happy birthday to me!! To think, my birthday would turn out to be such a lively and joyous day. It turns out that choosing the date on a whim wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

???: You chose the date for your birthday on a whim…?

Lilia: Ah, it seems my presenter has arrived. Come in, come in.

Jamil: My apologies, I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Lilia Senpai, what were you talking about just now?

Lilia: Oh, that was nothing. Don’t you worry about it. Thank you for taking the time to come talk with me today, Jamil.

Jamil: It didn’t sound like “nothing” to me… Oh, well. No use pushing the matter any further. Then please allow me to wish you a very happy birthday, Lilia Senpai. Here’s the first question: Are you good at flying or bad at it?

Lilia: Kufufu. Flying is my specialty! Now, if you were to ask me if I like flying class, that’s a whole other story.

Jamil: I gather our assignments are just too easy for you and you get bored?

Lilia: Ah, that’s not it. Watching the youngins try their best to fly always brings a great big smile to my face. They look like little baby birds that have just left the nest. But the thing is, having to fly with a broom is just so….

Jamil: Ah, so it’s more so a matter of the apparatus you’re using, I take it? In order to keep things fair for everyone, we’re all required to fly using the brooms that the school provides us. Is there something else you're more skilled at flying with?

Lilia: Excellent question! My forte is… Well, when it's just lil’ ol’ me!

Jamil: In other words, flying without the use of any instrument.

Lilia: That's right. It’s often said you can control your movements easier when riding atop a broom or a carpet, but when you get to my level, stuff like that just turns into a hindrance more than anything else. Those things always get caught up in tree branches and bump into walls and the like.

Jamil: I’m not sure when you’d ever fly in such a narrow area where that would even become a problem in the first place… but that aside, I suppose what’s most important is that you’re nimble when in the air.

Lilia: Indeed. I’ve gone to a number of different countries before with nothing but the clothes on my back. I’ve traversed mountains and great plains, and there’s even been times I’ve crossed the ocean. But you know, traveling by train or bus isn’t all that bad, either. Ah, how many years ago was it…. There was this one time I spent a whole week being jostled around on a train during one of my trips. It was certainly a very interesting experience.

Jamil: Is that so? I’m curious, what did you do inside the train car the whole time?

Lilia: I mostly just slept.

Jamil: You just slept?! What a waste of a trip…

Lilia: All we did was roll past one empty field after another, and I don’t think the scenery changed even one bit the entire time. And you know, the train shakes you around so much you can’t really sit down and read a book or play a video game or anything. The seats and beds were all hard as a rock, and by the time I got off that train all my joints were popping and cracking like you wouldn’t believe it! I’ve certainly seen and done a lot of different things in my lifetime, but that was the first time I’d ever sat still for so long that it made my bones hurt.

Jamil: So is that…your idea of an “interesting experience”?

Lilia: Absolutely! You see, your predecessors made use of their knowledge and skills to lay down railroad tracks all over their countries, build bridges so they could cross rivers, and to bore holes through huge mountains… And all those pathways they created so long ago can now safely transport both little ones and the elderly alike to pretty much anyplace you can imagine. When I went on that trip, I was able to experience firsthand the accumulation of all those centuries of everyone’s dedication and hard work.

Jamil (whispering to himself): Hmm, so he’s saying that over generations and generations, our species has been working diligently to trailblaze across the world. And when you think of it that way, then even the inconveniences of modern travel have some charm to them, I suppose.

Lilia: First they were just driving those lumps of metal across the ground, and next thing you know, now people are flying those things all around in the sky. It's just so interesting, all the things that humans get up to.

Part 2

Jamil: The next question is: What is your best subject?

Lilia: Another question about school? What a stuffy interview…. Oh, well. My best subject is… I’d say I’m quite confident that I’m more knowledgeable about the history of magic than anyone else at this school.

Jamil: I’ve heard other students complain before they have a hard time memorizing dates and names, and they’ll even fall asleep during our lectures. Would you mind sharing some advice on how to get good grades in that class?

Lilia: Well, it’s no wonder they get so bored. Trying to study history just from memorizing everything in our textbooks would put anyone to sleep. What I always recommend is to instead try and unravel the truth about history. That’s how you can really enjoy the subject.

Jamil: Unravel…?

Lilia: Ah, I can tell by your face you haven’t quite got it yet. Let’s see… Let me tell you an interesting story. A long time ago, there once was a very cowardly king who ruled over a certain country. He always went around assuming that the worst possible things were going to happen to him. Just in case of an emergency, he secretly ordered his subordinates to go and dig out an underground escape path for him to use.

Jamil: That’s something you often hear the rich and powerful doing.

Lilia: However, the name of that king has been carved into the annals of history as a great hero who saved his country. Now why do you suppose that is?

Jamil: He must have eventually turned over a new leaf at some point…right?

Lilia: Kufufu. The truth is that country was once struck by the most horrible downpour.

Jamil: A horrible downpour? So wait, then…

Lilia: Yes, thanks to the king’s underground escape routes, the rainwater was diverted away from the city, and they avoided any major damage. I’m sure you’ve heard that legend of a great king who, upon anticipating the threat of a flood, went and prepared a drainage system within the city ahead of time. I remember in some book I read it called him a “pioneer of infrastructure improvement”.

Jamil: If what you’re saying is true, then what’s written in our textbooks must be incorrect… But seeing as it’s a pretty old story, it doesn’t surprise me if some details haven’t been passed down correctly over time.

Lilia: Regardless of whatever his actual intentions might have been, it is the truth that his underground pathways did indeed save his country. People always try and puzzle out why someone else did this or that and why such and such happened, and those interpretations we create get passed down through the generations. That’s why I find history so interesting, because it’s woven together based on how people remember the past.

Part 3

Jamil: And now, we’ve reached the final question. What do you intend to do this year?

Lilia: I’d like to live a healthy lifestyle. And that’s about it, honestly.

Jamil: That’s something I also take care to do. Health is wealth, after all.

Lilia: Absolutely. There’s no greater treasure in life than good health.

Jamil: So what sorts of things do you intend to do, exactly? Waking up early and not staying up too late at night would be a good start, I’m thinking.

Lilia: No, nothing of the sort. I’m a total night owl, you see. People often recommended you wake up early, open up your windows, and enjoy the sunlight… But if I were to do something like that, why I’d be all out of sorts the whole day. Besides, my gaming keeps me very busy at night! I’ve got this wonderfully talented online friend, and during the holidays we’ll team up and tackle some high-difficulty quests together.

Jamil (whispering to himself): Now that just makes me think of Idia Senpai…

Jamil: If changing your sleeping schedule isn’t going to work out… Then what about setting up an exercise routine?

Lilia: Ah, I’ve already got that covered. For quite some time now I’ve been accompanying Silver and Sebek during their training. But it looks like I’ll soon be running out of things to teach them. Kufufu, it’s always so much fun instructing the youth.

Jamil: Silver and Sebek’s training…. I see. Yes, that certainly sounds like a great way to stay active. So that covers rest and exercise…. All that’s left would be what you eat, then.

Lilia: Indeed. Food is… Or rather, preparing balanced meals with nutrition in mind is something I’ve always been very diligent about. Tomatoes, cheese, broccoli, oysters, traditional fermented foods from eastern countries… No matter what it is, if it’s an ingredient that people say is good for your health, then I’ll toss it in when I’m cooking. Ah, well, anytime I cook something, its always for someone else's sake. I personally just eat whatever I like.

Jamil: If you're going to prepare a meal, please taste test each dish yourself before serving it to your guests…

Jamil: That’s it for the interview. Thank you for your time today, Lilia Senpai.

Lilia: Kufufu. And thank you, as well! All that’s left for me is to go dazzle everyone down by the birthday road, then.

Jamil: That’s right. Here, please take this broom. They made such a charming design with the bouquet, and it really suits you quite well. I’m sure at least with a broom like this you’ll be able to have some fun on your flight, yes?

Lilia: Of course! My, what a cute lil’ broom. It’s just perfect for me! Oh, how exciting!

Lilia: It’s not every day that I get to show off my flying skills. I'll make sure to provide a good example for my Kouhai to learn from!

#lilia vanrouge #jamil viper #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #twst #my tl #vignette

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