#thank you that is all i love hearing your opinions
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let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.
joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.
he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?
you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂
AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you.
You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.
He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”
“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”
“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.
“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”
“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”
“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.
“Surprise it is.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.
But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway.
And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him.
You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade.
It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up.
Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too.
“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”
“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”
“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”
“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”
Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”
“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.”
“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”
“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”
“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”
“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”
“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”
“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow.
He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -
“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”
“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”
“I made these reservations three months ago-”
“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face.
“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”
“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”
You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”
“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”
“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”
“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”
“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”
“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”
“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”
“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”
“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”
“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”
“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you.
“Are you going to go with me?”
“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you.
“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”
“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”
“I love you. So much.”
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#tlou#pedro pascal
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Hiiiiiiii. :)
First I love love love your fics.
You’re awesome.
Secondly you have a fic called duty and honor or something like that, where Aemond goes to war and his little wife is pregnant.
In it Aegon makes comments to her that she doesn’t like. I was wondering if you would write a continuation fic where now Aemond is back he over hears his brother and becomes all protective knowing this has been happening all the time he was away as well.
Just love protective pissed off In love Aemond and the way you write him, makes a girl swoon :) 🌹
Of Retribution & Desire
Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader
Rating: M (Mature) (as always - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
Warnings: Violence, reader is a couple weeks postpartum, Aemond being protective
Word count: About 1.3k
Synopsis: Your husband defends your honor and protects you from the hateful words of his brother.
Author’s note: This ask is from the summer of last year lmao my bad,,, I've been going through it lately but hopefully this fic was worth the wait and still makes you swoon! Thanks for the love and support! Hopefully this is also the start of me being more involved in writing and the fandom again! This is part three of my first ever Aemond fic!!
Part one - Of Duty and Honor
Part two - Of War and Longing
I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!
Aemond Masterlist
“It certainly appears to be true that childbirth takes away a woman’s beauty,” Aegon practically sneered at you as he looked up and down your body.
It was merely two weeks after you gave birth to Aemond’s daughter and your emotions were all over the place.
His words filled you with such anger and self consciousness that your body could not hold in the emotions.
Most embarrassingly, your eyes filled with tears. You were aghast at your reaction. Though Aegon often frustrated you, you certainly did not care enough about his opinion on your appearance for his words to cut so deep.
Though if you were honest with yourself, you were already uncomfortable with your appearance today and wished you could have avoided today’s gathering. Though Aemond had assured you that you looked lovely, it was obvious to you, despite your lady’s maid’s best efforts, that you were exhausted. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin, your body went through massive changes and had not had the time and chance to adjust back.
So there, in front of Aegon and the rest of your in-laws, you began to cry.
Damn these uncontrollable emotions that came on so strongly after giving birth.
You wanted to run and hide, and turned to do just that when Aemond walked in the room.
His brow knitted in concern and his footsteps quickened as soon as he saw you.
He was at your side and pulled you into his larger frame as he looked down at you.
“What is wrong?” He asked, his voice tight. His gaze was on you before his eye darted around the room scanning it for danger or anything that could have caused your distraught state.
You pursed your lips, afraid to speak for fear of more embarrassing tears flowing.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice dark with the promise of violence.
You really didn’t want to be the cause of another fight between him and his brother.
“Aegon was being vile,” Heleana spoke up.
You looked back at her in surprise that she would speak up, stand up for you.
Aemond looked over your head at his brother and his eye narrowed.
“What did you say to my wife,” he practically growled.
Aegon visibly blanched and as quick as that your mood changed. You held back a smile. You were eager to see Aegon finally receive consequences for all the horrible things he’d said to you throughout your pregnancy when Aemond was off winning his war.
“N-nothing,” he said and you scoffed and rolled your eyes.
Aemond glanced down at you. He could’ve asked you but it was clear he wanted to make his brother sweat, make him admit to hurting you.
He glared at Aegon who chose to glare back.
Alicent let out a long suffering sigh and explained to Aemond what had been said.
“That’s not the only thing he’s said too, right?” Heleana asked, her voice sweet and innocent. It amused you that she continued to push the issue, trying to get her husband in trouble.
A horrible thought clanged through you that every vile comment he’d made to you, at least you had Aemond’s protection. Maybe it was worse for her. And maybe getting Aemond to punish Aegon for how he treated you was a safe way for her to get retribution as well.
So you met her eyes, took a deep breath, set your jaw, and turned back to your husband. You told him every awful thing you could remember that Aegon said to you those eight months that Aemond was gone.
You ignored Aegon, looking only at your husband as you spoke.
As you finished, the tension in the room was thick, and it became so quiet, quiet enough that you could hear Aegon take a step back.
Aemond took a deep calming breath, gently brushed you aside, then lunged towards his brother.
“Aemond!” Alicent yelled in protest.
“Aemond,” you murmured, a weak attempt to dissuade him, your heart not truly in it as you protested along with her.
You took another step back, your body still weak from giving birth, not having any interest in getting involved in a physical fight, and watched as your husband punched his brother in the face to defend your honor.
He looked like an avenging angel, you thought, as his white hair flew around, his upper lip curled into a snarl, and the look in his eye promised pain.
You wondered at it, the smooth grace with which he attacked, it caused your heart to pound, and you knew it was not from fear.
He really only got two good hits in before the King’s Guards intervened and pulled him away. But it was glorious to behold.
His assault was so quick and vicious, Aegon didn’t even have a chance to fight back.
Alicent was distraught, but Heleana sidled up beside you and gave you a small smile which you returned.
The fact of the matter was, you were incredibly turned on. Uncomfortably turned on as you watched Aemond be violent to defend your honor.
You were ready to drag him to your rooms and make another baby, but then your aching body reminded you that you were in no shape to do any such thing.
Aemond yanked himself out of the grip of one of the guards and strode to you.
He tilted your face up with a finger beneath your chin so your gaze would meet his own that was filled with fire. And smirked at the desire in your eyes.
He pressed a brief but firm kiss to your wanting lips, you heard Aegon yelling something but ignored him completely.
You slipped your hand into Aemond’s, his knuckles a little bloody, and tugged on him slightly, leading him out and away from the chaos.
As you exited the room you gripped his tunic, and he backed you against the wall.
He placed his hands against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in, and with the heat - the fire - between the two of you, there was nothing you could do but rise up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.
And these past weeks with your daughter, the nine months before that as you carried her, had been amazing, one of the most joyful experiences of your life. But, you were not only her mother, you were also Aemond’s wife.
And he reminded you of that, reminded you that you are his wife and he desires you, as he kissed you back, kissed you hard, kissed you in a way that made your toes curl.
This was not the sweet, short, gentle way he had kissed you since she was born, no. This was your dragon filling you with his fire again.
His lips moved against yours, opening you up so his tongue could sweep against your own.
His hand left the wall to grip your waist, and self consciousness at your changed body flared up, but was soon smothered by his desire as he pushed his body closer to yours, pushed you further against the wall, pressed against him completely.
He groaned into your mouth and you nipped at his bottom lip in response. Finally, your body sang, like you were shaken awake by the heat.
You whimpered against his lips, and his tongue danced with yours in response.
Your body throbbed with desire… and then pain that reminded you that although your spirit felt ready to be joined with your husband in carnal desire again, your body certainly was not.
You pulled back, your breathing hard, and he smiled softly as he beheld you. His hand grazed up from your waist, slowly and gently, until he cupped your cheek.
“I can’t-“ you tried to explain, but he shook his head, understanding in his gaze.
“I know,” he murmured.
He kissed you again, this time gentle and slow, filled with care and affection rather than heat and desire.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” you said sweetly.
He chuckled and said, “I love you too, little wife. Let’s go hold our daughter before that look in your eyes convinces me to fill you with another.”
You giggled and took his hand and allowed your prince, your defender, your husband to lead you to your daughter.
#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x y/n
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Hello!!!
It's great that you're open to Jikook questions 😊
There's something that's been hunting me since I first saw it.
What's your interpretation of Jimin's reaction during the Vminkook live in Dec 2021- I'm referring specifically to Jimin's reaction after V said he was going to release a song with Jungkook? His reaction was super interesting, and so was Jungkook's.
We now know that V was playing around, and his statement wasn't true. Nevertheless, I think it caught Jimin by surprise, and my take is that he was a tiny bit jealous 😅 bless Jungkook, I think he was in a little bit of trouble there 🫣
Youtube link here:
https://youtu.be/5ufxVvjNbL4?si=UCbXNJxUfkz0c7i6
The moment I'm talking about starts around minute 45:00.
Thanks 💜
Hi Lovely!
This is a great ask, it’s something I’ve had convos with my friends about before! I’ve always found it highly entertaining when any variation of vminkook are together and get into skit mode or when Tae & Jungkook tease Jimin just to get him to go into super cute mode!
It’s what they do and have been doing for years.
This live was so chaotic VMinKook style from the jump. If anyone hasn’t watched it please do **everyone please watch original content**
It was chaotic because it was initially Tae’s solo live but he said how nervous he felt doing it alone and asked for staff to get Jungkook to join him.
NB: all image are gifs unless stated otherwise, please watch as they are there to support statements made. Original links to lives are at the end 💜
Jimin then came as he heard Tae needed company and Jimin had been with Jungkook. Jungkook eventually joined later.
Due to nerves on Tae’s part and it being an unplanned live that Jimin & Jungkook didn’t intend to be having there were many times where they didn’t know what to do or the purpose of the live and would defer to Tae for direction. Tae had a running skit with Jimin about being the host of a show (the vlive) and Jimin and later Jungkook being his guests.
Not a gif. Still picture
They also had funny moments where Tae would name drop different brands (this was funny as the group had contractual obligations with brands and they know in their profession they can’t name drop brands without consequence).
TMIs, games and more skits.
credit: onlyluvkpop. Some of the fun and teasing they were having
As I said the live was fun, chaotic but also at times stilted due to its unplanned nature of it becoming a trio live and nerves.
There was a point where Tae whilst trying to engage Jungkook tried (in my opinion) to run a joke with JK on army? I’m thinking he was hoping Jungkook and Jimin would catch onto it with him?
But cutie Minie Jagi was losssstttt 😭
Jimin’s face in the live side by side with confused Jimin face from post Hobipalooza live
VMinkook love their role playing and teasing and even if Jimin hadn’t caught on, I do think nothing was done to intentionally exclude any of the three. All three tease each other in different combinations
So no, not jealousy in my opinion, Jimin has absolutely nothing to be jealous about. But confused and slightly lost, as to if it was another skit or really work related that he didn’t know about.
Maybe a tad annoyed with it being live and no hints that he was catching on to, to work with, giving a look to Jungkook like ‘are you guys serious? Why aren’t you giving me a hint on the joke’ or ‘why am I hearing about a song for the first time in a live? You guys aren’t making sense’ and Jungkook’s kinda like ‘I’m as lost as you are’ or ‘what did I do? I’m just going along too!’
Maybe he was probably also thinking to himself when did Jungkook have a chance in between eating chicken together, working out together, Jungkook coming to his room all the time?? 😂
Not a gif. Still picture
Also Tae literally talked about a Christmas song earlier on in the live when it was just Jimin and Tae
Normally though, when V & JK are teasing Jimin, he knows it, and loves it 😂
But Minie was lost that time and he told us so
Tae & JK sometimes find a lost Jiminie, to be a cute Jiminie
Original Source: Weverse
Ultimately (in my opinion) Tae was mixing some facts together, which had JK quicker to the draw in playing along, but JK too was also confused at the beginning of their skit. When Jungkook caught on, he too teased Tae a bit and tried to get an expensive gift promise from Tae
Reached my media limit so ss the transcript instead, but like always, please watch the original lives for yourself
I’m assuming that the two had been vibing together and having fun making little play songs and singing, which is why JK said “what is it?” And “How can we release that?”
Tae did have a Christmas song in the works, just not with JK.
youtube
But for anyone that wanted a Christmas song from Jungkook, that’s ok, don't worry, him and Jimin have already done one together!
Not a gif. Still picture from Dynamite Christmas remix MV
youtube
Original source: BANGTANTV
I really appreciate your ask @irmi3454, I had fun!
💜
Original Weverse Links for Live
Live Part 1
Live Part 2
Live Part 3
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PARENTING
Pairing: Vox x fem!angel!reader
Summary: Now that little Pixel is born, you and Vox raise her thanks to a deal with Heaven and lots of chaos.
A/N: this is part two of PREGNANT, thank you sm for the request anon! Idk if it's the same one that asked for the first part but if it is I hope you like it <3
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
VOX tends to get home late, so you usually spend the day with Pixel until he comes
back
At the end of his work day, he greets his daughter like she's the most precious thing in the world
Because she is
And because she came out of the second most precious thing in the world
You see him with Pixel in his lap, her little screen staring at his bigger one and babbling something unintelligible
It almost makes you cry tears of joy
Vox normally struggles to be soft around others
Well, not exactly struggles as chooses not to, because he has a reputation to maintain
But when it comes to his family he'll do anything and everything to protect them
You notice that he seems much more himself around you and Pixel
Not that you're complaining, of course
You love this vulnerable side of him more than the eccentric, manipulative businessman he purports to be
Although if you mention it to him, he'd likely deny it
Still hellbent on keeping you away from Valentino
As a friend he's great, sure, but his filthy habits near his newborn daughter and the mother of the aforementioned daughter do not sit right with him
You're wary of keeping Velvette on babysitting duty, although Vox convinces you to try it once
Not the worst babysitting shift in the history of the world, which surprised you greatly
After you gave birth, Vox moved you and Pixel to another house to separate his family from his work life
He deems it to be safer
And he would be completely correct
That's why when Alastor returns, he flips out
He's afraid of losing you and his little Pixie to that smiling freak
And if he loses everything he's worked for, how will he support his family?
Honestly, you have no qualms about his borderline homoerotic obsession with Alastor
Of all the flaws he has, that might not be number one
And he could do much worse, in your opinion
As long as he doesn't act on it, you're completely fine with it
It's true that you're an angel and he's a demon, a seraphim and an overlord no less
It makes you wonder why Sera would agree to let you keep the child and spend your maternity leave wherever you wish
Pixel is technically a hellborn, but she's the child of a blessed and a damned soul
You don't know how that would work
When she comes of age, she'll have her court case to decide her fate, since as a newborn child she's still of indeterminate morality
As hard as it would be, Vox would want her to live a blessed life
Therefore he lets you raise her to be a good person
You teach the little girl kindness, empathy, generosity and care
The sight is bittersweet for Vox
On the one hand, he's proud of seeing his own blood be a better person than he is
On the other hand, he'd miss Pixie being home at the end of every day and clinging to his leg like a vice
"My sweet girl. Thank God you're just a baby. Dad doesn't want to give you away, but he knows it's the right choice."
You hear him talk to her like that one night, and tears spill from your eyes as you overhear the conversation
It breaks your heart to see him suffer like this
To give up his own child in this way, you know full well that you wouldn't be able to if the roles were reversed
"Da-da..."
You freeze in place when a little babbling voice reaches your ears, while Vox grins so hard and his eyes glisten with tears for a brief moment
"That's right, sweetie... dad's here. Dad's here."
You sniffle softly and walk over to sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and stroking the top of Pixie's screen
"I can't believe it. Time flew by so fast."
"I know... suddenly I'm seeing her go off to school."
You giggle at that, kissing Vox on the cheek and running your thumb over the edge of his screen with a little sniffle
"Are you sure you're okay with me taking her to Heaven?"
Vox sighs, expression dropping from the joy of the moment as he pauses to word his reply properly
"Yeah. It's not easy, but it's what she deserves. It's the life I want her to have."
You wrap your arms around his neck when he says so, affectionately caressing the back of his screen
"I'm really sorry. I know I'd be flipping out if I were in your place."
"Oh, believe me, I am. I'm just doing a stunningly good job at covering it up."
You chuckle softly, nuzzling your nose on his screen
He laughs along with you and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, then holds both you and Pixie close to his chest
Soon Pixel grows into a pre-teen
She has already sprouted her wings and goes to school
Vox suggests that you let her go on her own, as she can fly and he has cameras everywhere
And he'd definitely maul to death anyone who tries to mess with his daughter
But you're still extremely on edge, insisting that even if he could know when she's in danger, there's no way either of you would get there in time to save her
So you drop her off and pick her up by flight every day
She doesn't like it very much, but somehow understands it's for her own good
It isn't until she's 14 that she finds out about the Radio Demon
She first overhears it while passing by Valentino's tower when she drops by the Headquarters one day and decides to ask Vox about it
"Dad?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Who's Alastor?"
Vox is visibly aggravated
Electricity zaps across his antennae and racks his entire body as he struggles not to dig his clawed fingers in the table
"Ha, ha... where did you learn that name, Pixie?"
Pixel worries for his reaction, flinching back as she stutters out a soft, "I- I- I-"
"Lady Archangel Pixel of Pride and Kindness, tell me who told you about that freak right now!"
"I- I heard Uncle Val saying that name, and- and that he hears he's back...!"
Vox is seconds away from electrocuting the entire Pentagram
So today he's going to deal with explaining to his teenage daughter about some psychopath he used to know and is learning that he's back from his child
"Oh, no, because God forbid Valentino shut his mouth for once in his fucking life!"
He slams his fist on the table and buries his screen in his hands, resting his elbows on the table and attempting to take a few deep breaths
"Dad...?"
He looks up and sees his daughter's big eyes staring at him with concern
He must have scared her with his outburst
Vox frowns and gathers her in his arms, sighing as he plants a kiss on the top of her screen
"I'm sorry, Pixie, I'm sorry. Alastor used to be my partner."
Pixel looks to the side and back at him, blinking multiple times
This conversation just took quite the turn
"I'll probably regret this, but... partner as in...?"
"Business partner! Jesus Christ, Pixel!"
The young girl sighs in relief
Honestly, he couldn't blame her for jumping to that conclusion
Vox tells her about his partnership with Alastor, everything about what he's really like and what he could do to hurt them now
He knows she's mature enough to understand
"What I want you to do now is call your mother and ask her to come pick you up. Now."
"But-"
"Now, Pixel."
Pixel hesitates, eyes flickering around with worry as she finally stared up at Vox
"Do you trust me?"
"...yes. Yes, I trust you."
"Then do as I say. Please."
She can tell something's off, her father has never acted this way before
The girl throws her arms around him, burying her face in his chest
Vox wipes the tears from her eyes and gives her a reassuring smile, holding her screen in his hands
"I love you, okay?"
"I love you, too, dad..."
He presses another kiss to her forehead and squeezes her tight
He's so terrified of letting her go, but he knows that he has to, for her own good
"Go over to aunt Velvette's and ask her to call your mother. Tell her to meet me here as soon as she can and we'll come get you."
Pixel is extremely apprehensive, but obliges either way
As she trots off to Velvette's tower, Vox gets footage of the Hazbin Hotel from Valentino
Meanwhile, you receive Velvette's call and fly over to the Headquarters as fast as possible
Vox clings to you and squeezes you tight, cupping your cheeks in his hands and looking into your eyes
"Ask for an advance on the court date."
You swear you feel your soul leave your body when he says those words
You've been dreading this for so many years
"Vox, this- this can't be the only solution."
"She's in limbo, Y/N, and right now the good in her has the edge. Request sanctuary and ask Sera to move the date. Please."
With a heavy heart, you agree
He's right, if Alastor really is back, you need to get Pixel to safety
You hug Vox close, tucking your face in the crook of his neck and letting out a sob
You don't know if you're going to see him ever again, and that terrifies both of you to your very cores
"Don't cry, my love, don't cry."
"I love you, Vox."
"I know. I love you, too."
You share a last passionate kiss before departing, tears brimming both yours and his eyes as Velvette accompanies Pixel to say her goodbyes
Vox's farewell to his child is heartbreaking
He reassures her that he loves her and it's for her own good, even if he knows that deep down she'd never forgive him
You give Vox a last kiss before opening the portal to Heaven, letting the dimensions swallow up both of you, never to see Hell for years on end
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I thought what you said about using Granite Falls as part of your Moonwood Mood storytelling was an neat idea. I would be interested to hear more about that!
Sorry it took me a minute to type up the response to this ask; I would absolutely LOVE to expand on this, thank you so much for asking!! I will warn you that this ended up being quite a longwinded explanation of my personal Werewolf world lore, so I'm sorry about that in advance! 🙈😂
Let’s get into it! ↓
I've talked about how I don't treat sim worlds as isolated entities in the past, but I've never gotten deep into that - I'll start there so my Moonwood lore makes sense!
Basically, I see Granite Falls as a location within Moonwood Mill. To go one step further, I actually don't even see Moonwood Mill as its own isolated "world" but rather as a small town within a bigger city within a bigger state within a country and so on. Think of Granite Falls as a large property within Moonwood Mill, and Moonwood Mill as an industrial, dying small town that is within driving distance to its larger city counterpart Evergreen Harbor, and all of these places exist in the same state. For me, the states these worlds are a part of are usually real-life states! Of course not all the worlds feel "American" to me (Selvadorada, Tomorang, Mt. Komerebi being perfect examples) but the ones that do usually get categorized this way in my mind.
For example: San Sequoia and Del Sol Valley are the easiest and most widely accepted representation of this idea. I treat both of these "worlds" as large, neighboring cities that exist within the same state, much like their assumed real-world counterparts Los Angeles and San Francisco which both reside in California. Another example is San Myshuno which I've seen a lot of players think of in the same way they see New York City, which resides in New York State. Moonwood Mill, Granite Falls, and Evergreen Harbor all function this way in my mind and would all share the same state! (I'm not a geography whiz, so I've never given it much though which irl state they would be a part of, but with the greenery, industrial, and dreary/rainy vibes my money would be on Washington or, alternatively, I personally see them being in a state that falls somewhere in the Appalachian area, like West Virginia!)
Okay, that's the long explanation I had to get out of the way before I jump into this next lore part... sorry! I'm getting to the good stuff now though, I promise!
Granite Falls and Moonwood Mill are on an even smaller scale than the San Sequoia/Del Sol Valley relationship, in my opinion. To me, Granite Falls feels like a national park or forest/nature preserve that surrounds Moonwood Mill and therefore ultimately falls under their jurisdiction. HOWEVER, the primary caretakers of Granite Falls are technically an independent commune... better known as "The Moonwood Collective."
I don't think there's enough room in the town center of Moonwood Mill to accommodate two whole wolf packs AND the handful of human locals that remain. Additionally, when you take into consideration the canon growing tension between these two packs and their various different ways of life, I have a hard time seeing them effectively coexisting in such close proximity. Besides that, Modern Moonwood Mill in its broken down, industrial, haphazard state suits the Wildfangs more than The Moonwood Collective - I can see the influence that the Wildfangs have had on the area, but where is The Collective's influence? Even the layout of Moonwood Mill and the lots which are located within walking distance of the rowdy dive bar screams Wildfang energy to me.
We also know that The Collective is much older than the Wildfangs, as it was formed back when Moonwood Mill was just beginning to have settlers and refugees who were fleeing from conflict (the big magical war between spellcasters/vampires/werewolves). Referred to only as "Moonwood" back then due to the area's obvious connection to the moon's energy, the founders of the town established The Collective - in the sims lore, it seems to imply that The Collective is the first pack of its kind to organize werewolves into a hierarchal structure with the goal of encouraging self-sustainability, diplomatic communication, and communal contribution within its wolf members. In my mind, I've always seen The Collective as people who reject societal comforts and embrace naturalism, self-discipline/emotional control, herbalism and holistic medicine practices, minimalist living, homesteading, community caretaking, things of that nature... and there really isn't anywhere in Moonwood Mill specifically that conveys that kind of influence. Granite Falls, however, sure feels magical with its sprawling plantlife and natural oddities... that is a place that could support their lifestyle!
If you look at the maps of these two places, it isn't hard to imagine Granite Falls as the wooded area close to the Moonwood Lunvik Lake, the spot where werewolves can "awaken the wolf" if they swim there during a full moon, because Granite falls is surrounded by various bodies of water AND mountain structures on it's right side... just like the mountain structures and woods that frame Moonwood Mill in the upper left hand of its map! Let me give you two shitty graphics I made to help illustrate what I mean:
It's not a one-for-one perfect comparison, but it's so damn close that it feels natural to see the worlds as complimentary! Especially with The Collective's connection to the ancient spiritualism of the original wolves and mooncasters, it just makes sense that they would opt live in a commune-esque community on the outskirts of Moonwood Mill, as opposed to being right in the epicenter of town. This way they're close to the sacred Lunvik Lake, just far enough outside of society to seclude their true nature, but still close enough to help the remaining human locals. I even have a silly headcanon that the "Big Foot" of Granite Falls is actually just the pack-less werewolf Greg, as we know he lives secluded, deep in the forest...it just makes sense that people might see him raging in wolf form at night and be like "Oh shit, big foot!"
With the Wildfangs being a newer pack that is more open to embracing the wolf parts of themselves, they wouldn't feel the need to "hide" and pull themselves out of society in the way that The Collective does. That being said, they also wouldn't have the resources, structure, and defined communal space that a very old pack like The Collective would have... therefore they're just scattered around Moonwood Mill in their family homes, the trailer park (some people do a motel instead - I can see both working well), and so on. Some lots even tell their buyers to ignore the "howling in the distance," and because the Collective hides their true nature, I feel this must be referring to the Wildfang's full moon antics and their willingness to "embrace the beast."
Either way, It seems to me that The Collective has always believed it best to stay hidden, so it makes sense that they would form their community on the outskirts of Moonwood Mill not just for their own safety, but for the safety of the human locals as well. I think they likely relocated to Granite Falls years before the Wildfangs existed and when a huge uptick in human settlers came in, chasing the riches associated with Moonwood's mines or, more likely, the mills which the town would be eventually named after. But as time went on and the town went to ruin (some people theorize due to the wolves, some people theorize the town's natural industries just became less profitable in the age of technology), people abandoned it and opted to move to the newer city - Evergreen Harbor. (See, we came full circle!)
That kind of leads us to where I'm at in my game, in "modern day." A lot of time has passed, and Moonwood Mill has changed dramatically since its inception. I prefer to imagine that the remaining human locals are not fully aware of the werewolves living among them with 100% certainty, but there are legends and stories. The oldest locals cultivate and pass down not just the stories but the protective practices to their children and grandchildren as well: don't go into the woods on a full moon, if the woods get quiet out of nowhere stay calm and find the closest way out, close all the blinds when it gets dark, don't go out on a full moon, bring the animals in or secure them in the barn for their protection on full moon nights, if you hear a whistle in the woods do not whistle back, and so on. Unfortunately, those stories, wives' tales, and superstitions tend to attract potential enemies to werewolf-kind: rogue vampires seeking to harm werewolves and even occult hunters. HOWEVER, by retreating into the woods, The Collective are closer to what they believe is their spiritual source - Lunvik Lake - where the original mooncasters created werewolves and Myshupotamians worshipped the moon. By being closer to their source, they are strengthened and therefore able to keep out potential threats, protect their own pack, and watch over Moonwood Mill as a whole more effectively. I don't think the Wildfangs are particularly interested in this part of their Lyncanthropy - its something uniquely embeded in the history of The Collective and why it was created in the first place.
LASTLY, my Moonwood Mill/magic world in general is actually years ahead of where we start in game, and in my mind the magic world is on the precipice of another war (a long anticipated response after the destruction caused by Operation Eternal Flame. Vlad isn't one to take losses, and the Spellcaster/Vampire tensions are still very much palpable). I'm not going to get fully into all that, but I will say that the Wildfangs are a far more established pack, still led by their alpha, Rory (albeit a much older, wiser Rory) and The Collective is led by Rory's adoptive brother, Jacob Volkov, after their father (and former alpha of The Collective) Kristopher died. Although the tensions between the Wildfangs and The Moonwood Collective aren't as severe any more, they do still have trouble coexisting from an occult governance/council perspective. Again, I have a whole lore about occult governance as well, but I won't get into all that either haha. The TLDR is that there are two big issues between the Wildfangs and The Collective at the present moment: the first being how Rory has gone about growing the Wildfangs (by recruiting pack-less werewolves outside of Moonwood Mill, something The Collective has always been against since its inception) and second, their willingness to work with spellcasters if another occult war breaks out.
Okay... I'm done now! I'm cutting myself off! That may have been more than you were looking for...I'm truly sorry!!!
I hope I managed to answer your question (and some). Thank you for asking me about this, I literally never get to talk occult lore and it is one of my favorite things to explore in the sims!! I feel like no one cares about my occult headcanons and such... but sometimes that's all I want to talk about lmao. If I had the time and talent to make a story about this very topic, I WOULD! But for now this is all I have to offer <3
Thank you again for this ask, it made my week!!
#ts4#simblr#moonwood mill#granite falls#ts4 werewolves#the wildfangs#the moonwood collective#the sims 4#sims 4#ts4 lore#my lore#ddseries#atfs ask#charsimsalot
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This is a day late, but I have a short little thing for @chenford-prompts 2 Weeks of Chenford! Prompt: Miles Apart
(I'm not gonna lie to y'all, this is inspired by a plot line in Chicago PD that I hated with a fiery passion, so I decided to fix it and add some Chenford, as a treat! It's more alluded to than anything else, and the timelines don't really work out, but I don't really care. OH also I may have. Replaced Bailey and Nolan's wedding with Abigail and Henry's in this. Because I don't really care for Bailan, but that's just my opinion!)
“I still can’t believe you arrested someone while you were on vacation in New York,” Lucy said, her voice echoing and staticy through the phone’s speaker. “You're officially worse than Nolan.”
Tim rolled his eyes, shifting his position in his seat. He was sitting in the waiting room of a precinct in Brooklyn, waiting for detectives to come and take his statement. “Okay, no one’s worse than Nolan. He went after a drug ring at his son’s wedding.”
“True,” Lucy conceded. “But you’re on vacation, miles away from home, and you just happened to spot a kidnapper?”
“They don’t give sergeant positions to just anyone, you know,” Tim pointed out wryly.
He heard her snort on the other end. “No, apparently just to people who hit criminal’s cars with their cars to stop them.”
“Okay that one I did steal from Nolan,” Tim admitted. “But it worked. Got him out of the car and away from the girl he grabbed.”
“She must have been terrified.” Lucy’s voice was soft with empathy, and Tim felt a pang go through his chest.
“Yeah,” he said. “She’s tough, though. She’ll be okay.”
What he didn’t tell her was how familiar it felt when he pulled the young woman, tied up and terrified, out of the back of the car. Suddenly he was lifting Lucy out of the barrel in the desert, holding her as she sobbed.
The tears in the young woman’s eyes— Nadia, from Chicago. Not much older than Nolan’s rookie, with a checkered past, but a fierce determination that Tim recognized easily— had reminded him of Lucy’s. It had been heart-wrenching.
“Hey.” Lucy’s voice on the other end jolted him out of his thoughts. “You saved her. You stopped the bad guy and you saved that girl from her worst nightmare. I’m proud of you.”
Tim let out a soft laugh. “Thanks, Lucy.”
“Of course.” She paused, then asked, “How long are you going to be gone again?”
Letting out a sigh, Tim leaned back in his seat, switching his phone to his other ear. “A couple more days. Technically I’m out here to visit a friend, but there’s also this case to help wrap up. And I want to keep an eye on Nadia until her friends come to pick her up. Apparently she knows people in the CPD who are on their way.”
“Good— I’m glad you’ll be there for her.”
That was Lucy. Always focused on someone else. But Tim could hear what she wasn’t saying, and for once he let himself say it. “I miss you.”
He could almost see her smile as she said, “I miss you, too.”
Glancing up, Tim saw a familiar, leather jacket-clad figure heading towards him. “I gotta go— Detective Peralta is back. Talk to you later?”
“Okay, I should go, too. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
As Tim hung up the phone, Detective Peralta, who was standing in front of him, wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Already at the I love you part in your relationship, huh? Very noice.”
Rolling his eyes, Tim said, “Let’s just get on with the statement, okay?”
“Yeah, I sound like Boyle. Let’s stick with I’m happy for you. Now, right this way, Sergeant.”
Tim shook his head as he followed the other man. But he couldn’t quite hold back the smile on his face.Only a few more days here. Then I’ll go home to Lucy. And that was the best thought of all.
#the rookie#chenford#tim bradford#lucy chen#2 weeks of chenford#chicago pd#b99#jake peralta#listen. let me cross over my current favorite cop shows#as a treat#writing stories is a kind of magic too
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In my opinion, Bruce should be above average height or at least average. But since he surrounds himself with demi-gods, aliens, meta humans, etc, he's just dwarfed next to them. Like maybe about 6'1 or 6'2, but that's NOTHING compared to Diana '7'3 feet tall' Prince. Or Clark '6'9' Kent.
All the tabloids claim he has to be at least 5 feet tall because the only photos they can get of him are when he's next to his giant ass friends.
It is also my personal headcannon that all the robins stay shorter than him, except Jason, who should be at least 4 inches taller.
#diana might even need to be taller#bruce wayne#batman#diana prince#wonder woman#clark kent#superman#robin#jason todd#red hood#dc#wonderbat#superbat#dc comics#dc characters#and his bat boots add like an inch or so#short king#to be clear im talking about BATMAN#BATMAN LOOKS SHORT NOT BRUCE!!!#plus the boots add an inch or so!!!!!#i also said ABOVE average height!!#thank you that is all i love hearing your opinions#😊#i edited this#to make it make more sense
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Fuck it: Stylizes your Munson FIN
y’all i fear the long lashes might be here to stay.
anyways. here’s where i might leave him for the night. UNLESS i don’t and i hit y’all with another at like 2 am.
#fuck it stylizes your munson#thank you for all your thoughts and opinions!!!#i love to hear what y’all think!!#it makes me actually try things and mix things up and emphasize different things etc#i absolutely love it#still on the search for a style that fucks#but i think we’re on the right track#also i hope y’all like the lashes cause i am kind of obsessed ngl#eddie munson#eddie munson fanart#i draw things
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"You were so right to distance yourself from that group of people !"
Thanks for the ego boost. I did it with the help of my coping mechanisms, my trauma responses and the ability to over-analyse everything until it makes sense.
Now, spill the tea. What happened, in great details.
#I LOVE IT WHEN THEY ADMIT I WAS RIGHT#TRUST MY INSTINCTS GUYS I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING#(i don't)#when it comes to people i always have my reasons#and damn it they're very good reasons#i didn't notice how much i needed this validation until i received it#like 'ah yes you were right from the beginning your opinion is valuable' OH MY GOSH BESTIE THANK YOU I LOVE YOU#i won against the hesitation and the nostalgia i'm gonna celebrate it right now guys i was RIGHT and they ADMITED IT#it's so comforting to know i'm right when it comes to the people i can trust#sometimes i'm wrong yeah but most of the time i can trust myself and it's good news#but also i love to hear their dramas i need all the details without getting involved lmao#they're so stupid and toxic it's fun to watch them destroy themselves <3#toxic people#toxicity#toxic relationship#toxic friends#toxic frienship#whispers from atlantis#bestie's trinkets box
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Opinions on Dream? :^
SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me
okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')
or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!
LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)
plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.
it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(
always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?
not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')
hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333
#ask#rambling#delete later?#probably xD i just wanna love him SO much but sometimes he's just *sigh*...forgettable#i tried to explain myself but also it's like 4 am and i skimmed through the proofreading so don't take this too seriously HHH#like really even when i do read good fics about him he's not on the forefront of my mind and it's painful to me :'(#i used to see him as my third fav but now? ever since i've read and seen characters who get heavier more in depth plots?#i can't say it with as much confidence :') and dream lovers out there i am not bashing your choice or even your headcanons#to each their own but i really wanna hear someone be passionate about him in my feed or askbox like TELL me about him#i've seen ink rants out there that are FIRE like so true!!! but where's the dream defense team???#maybe it's just me tho :') btw i still like cream but not the same way as before if i'm being real#it feels the same...all of it and it makes me wanna bite something ARGHGG#i know i know i ship some stuff that's basic too hhh but dream and cross are always written the same and dream is too innocent#and nightmare is too weird in some of these fics like if MY brother ever tried to literally attack my hypothetical partner????#i wouldn't give him the :'((( sad face and weakly tell him to 'please stop...you're hurting him'' like NO girl they're TWINS#they're the same age i would tell him to BACK off and not insert himself in my love life after years of ignoring and fighting LIKE#especially since most of the time cross is actually good to dream and all- so he doesn't have a good reason to disrupt his bro's dates#UGH i just have so many opinions but basically i would love him a lot lot more than i do now if they also let him be more flexible#and shake things up like with shattered and stuff! gimme alternate versions of him even if it's too ooc like we do for all the other sanses#jaa i am SO sorry you had to read all that dude thank you so much for passing by :'D
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LOCKS OR KEYS: PART 9
YOU CHOSE: KEYS: TAKE THE CAR AND ESCAPE
Your choices leave your character lost. He has no choice but to succumb to the will of his captor.
CWS: non human whumper, whumper is also caretaker, captive whumpee, failed escape attempt, sick whumpee, brainwashing, torture, dehumanization, delirious whumpee, suicidal ideation, force feeding alcohol, hallucinations and delusions of bugs crawling on and into whumpee’s body, hypnosis. let me know if i should add more!
Masterlist.
Tag list (lmk if you’d like to be added or removed, my apologies for forgetting about it the last handful of parts): @skid-row-seymour @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @the9645archives
sorry this one is kinda long, but i felt like y’all deserved a bigger part for waiting so long to hear from this series :cryface:
. . .
The keys hang on the wall, the car sits outside. It’s time to go.
In one swift motion, Chase sheds the blanket off his shoulders and snatches up the keys. He strides outside the house, making easy and confident steps down the porch. Getting in the car is easy, starting it is easy, driving is easy. For once, he isn’t afraid.
The puppet opens his eyes. Now that he’s pictured his half assed plan, he can begin the attempt.
He sheds the blanket onto the couch, feeling a rush of cold air hit his skin. For a second he pulls it back, but ultimately elects to fold it and leave it on the couch. Maybe Pseudo won’t be as angry with him if he doesn’t leave a mess. Maybe he’s just stalling.
Once finished, he begins his steps towards the keys. They’re clumsy and painful, causing him to fall into the arm of the couch before he even leaves the living room. He manages to get to the keys, and with a trembling hand, he plucks them from the wall.
He feels nauseous.
Is he really doing this?
He could turn back at any moment, and Pseudo would never know. He wouldn’t question it, because Chase would still be in bed when he got home, and the keys would still be on the wall. He could turn back. He could be safe.
But instead he opens the door, against everything inside him. He can hear his inner “Pink voice” crying inside his head, “bad idea, bad idea, bad bad bad idea!”
But he is ignored, and Chase finds himself in the driver’s seat of the car.
It takes him a few minutes to muster the courage to start it, and then a few more just to remember how. His whole body shakes in cold and fear, and he feels like he could vomit at any given second. His nervousness cracks him down to his core, splitting through every cell and piece of tissue there is to have inside a human. Once the car rumbles to life, he adjusts the mirror, and sees Pseudo in the back seat.
“Fuck!!”
Chase whips around to look at him, but finds the car empty.
The relief, the fear, the sickness, the fighting Pink and Chase, God, he can’t take it. He can’t tell if what he saw was real or fake, if he’s just hallucinating or if Pseudo’s onto him and is just toying with him. But he’s come this far, and what he can’t take even more than the situation he’s in now, is staying another day here in Denmark. He wants to go home.
Chase puts the car in drive, and starts his terrifying journey.
. . .
If starting the car was difficult, driving should be its own category of horrendous.
He’s completely forgotten how. For the first ten or so minutes he either goes too fast or too slow. He almost drives off the side of the road into the wooded areas, (which he absolutely scratches the car), and at one point, he nearly crashes when trying to turn too fast on a curve. As time passes, the sun falls farther and farther beneath the trees, to which Chase panics when trying to find the switch for the headlights. He considers pulling over for a while just to cry about it all, but he gets the hang of most of it. He gets the hang of most of it, and he drives just fine for a while, despite having no idea where he’s going.
As Chase drives and drives, he starts seeing a house in the distance. Pseudo’s house.
Did he drive in a circle?
The roads don’t curve like that, do they?
Chase speeds up, terrified to be met with this fate so soon. He hopes he’s hallucinating again.
The same woods and lake and curves meet him again. He tries harder this time around to make sure he’s careful, taking different turns as not to end up in the same place. This cant be for nothing.
The same stretch of time seems to pass for Chase, though he can’t say for sure as Pseudo’s clock is stuck at 10:05. It all feels like the same terrifying drag to him either way.
Eventually, even with his precautions, he’s met with the house again.
He speeds up once more, gripping the steering wheel as tight as he can. He tries the same plan again, taking different roads or even going straight through the woods wherever the car can fit. At this point, he’d try anything to go home.
But once again, the house appears in his view.
Tears blur his vision as he tries again. He pleads to get free, more afraid of the punishment than anything at this point. If Pseudo isn’t on to his escape, then his lack of driving skills are going to be his downfall.
Again, the house appears, and again, he tries to drive.
He cries as he keeps the car going. It’s hard to see as it is, but he might need to pull over if his emotions keep getting the best of him like this.
The next time he gets back to he house, he sees Pseudo standing there, watching him. His hands are in his pockets and he doesn’t look upset, although Chase knows better than to assume. He knows he’s been caught, and that driving would be useless now. But he cant stop, this cant be for nothing.
He drives around again, and Pseudo stays put. Their dance continues, Chase driving, Pseudo waiting, until enough turns have happened that the puppet accepts his defeat. On the last drive, the car comes to a stop, but his tears don’t.
Pseudo approaches, opening the door and tilting his head at the doll. Chase has yet to stop crying.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” says Pseudo.
The puppet covers his face, smashing tears into his fingertips. He feels like Pink. Or maybe wants to be Pink. Pseudo is nicer to Pink.
“You know what happens now, don’t you, dolly?”
Chase feels sicker and sicker. He covers his mouth just in case.
“I asked you a question, Chase.”
The name names his skin crawl. Pseudo doesn’t call him that anymore, not unless he’s in serious trouble.
“Yes,” Chase whimpers. He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks up at his captor, hoping to reason with him. “Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking, I was just scared and-“
Pseudo puts a finger to his lips. “Hush. You know where you’re supposed to go. I’ll be in there later.”
“But-“
Pseudo smacks Chase on the mouth, and the puppet shuts up. He leans in close to his doll, making sure their eyes meet and the attention is captured.
“Hush.”
He then unbuckles the seatbelt that ties Chase down, and takes the keys from the ignition.
“Put these back on your way in.”
The monster drops the keys in his puppet’s hand, and leaves him to follow his commands. But Chase is paralyzed.
He stares down at the keys in his hand, shaking like a leaf about to fall from a tree. He pictures the cellar, he pictures the garden, he pictures the car, the vague idea of children he forgets the names of. He pictures the stupidity of his decision, and how much easier his life would be had he just stayed in bed to sleep like he was told.
But there’s no point in picturing.
Chase stands up and shuts the door. With each step he takes he feels knives digging into his feet, roots trying to plant themselves in the ground to make him stay away from his punishment. He starts losing his breath from the panic, and while his hands go numb, he simultaneously crumbles to the ground. The keys find a home in the grass, and Chase’s mouth begins to salivate from the need to vomit.
He covers his mouth, trying to take deep breaths and prevent a mess. He can’t stop shaking, can’t stop crying, can’t stop thinking about what’s going to happen to him.
It takes him a few minutes to gather his strength again. Soon enough, he’s entering the house to place the keys back where he found them, and heading out the back door.
He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks at the cellar. Why, why, why did he have to be so stupid? Why can’t he just listen?
With trembling hands and closed eyes, he opens the doors for his consequences.
. . .
Pseudo takes a long time to come downstairs.
Chase isn’t sure if he’s just letting the tension build, or if his punishment is being locked in here for an unknown amount of time. God knows he’s spent long enough down here, weeks at a time, and every memory makes him more and more afraid of what’s to come. He tries not to focus on that part. Instead, he drags his hands against the wall for balance while he paces.
And paces, and paces, and paces
and paces and paces
and paces.
He paces until his feet ache from the weight of his bones. Until he has to cover his face and kneel on the ground, considering ending his life before Pseudo can come down to start the pain. But that thought leaves his mind as light drips heavy down the steps, and Chase becomes a lightening bolt to sit in the chair he’s supposed to.
His eyes lock on the drain below him. There are still stains on the concrete from his own blood, but more recently, from the man who was planted in the garden. Chase shivers as he pushes the thought from his mind.
Pseudo comes down the stairs with his eyes trained on the chair, pleased to see the seat taken. His stride is easy and comfortable, but there’s some kind of itch in his fingers that twitches as he gathers tools onto his little cart. He takes his time to think about his supplies, and what is or isn’t chosen. Chase steals a glance, but turns away when he sees a stun gun thud onto the surface.
“I don’t know why you do this to yourself,” says Pseudo, still focused on his task. “It’s like you enjoy being punished, I don’t know. Or maybe you’re just dumber than I thought.”
He places a few other tools on the cart, but Chase keeps himself blind to what’s there. Once finished, he rolls the cart closer to his prey, and stands in front of him to speak.
“Which one is it, Chase?”
The puppet frowns, shaking his head. “I-“
A hard smack to the face cuts him off. Chase goes reeling to the side of the chair, but is yanked back by his hair. The man cries out in pain, leaning as far into Pseudo’s grip as he can to avoid extra pain.
“If you speak again without permission, I’ll sew your mouth shut. Am I understood?”
Chase nods.
Satisfied, the monster lets go, and the puppet’s hands come up to soothe the pain in his cheek and scalp. The relief is short lived, however, as Pseudo grabs his wrists to strap them to the arms of the chair with thin metal wire. It digs trenches into his skin, so he tries not to squirm.
His ankles are met with the same restraints, and he clamps his jaw down as hard as he can to avoid pleading. His eyes unconsciously drift to the tool cart and he catches the sight of a Sjambok, which he can already feel the sting of. He closes his eyes and keeps his head down, but Pseudo doesn’t like that.
“Look up. Look at the cart.”
The puppet chews on his tongue and obeys. His eyes scan over what he sees, and the pit in his stomach doesn’t stop growing.
The Sjambok. The stun gun. Gardening scissors. Barded wire. Needle and thread. A small jar of table salt. Shards from the plate he broke. Whiskey. A nail-gun.
Chase’s breath picks up as he scans the cart. Tears sting his eyes, and he chews and chews into his tongue. His head swims with the anticipation and anxiety of it all, heart thumping like a bird’s inside his chest. Once he’s gathered the sight of what will be used, he turns back to his captor to see him staring like a stalking, hungry dog.
“What do you think, trouble- maker? Was it worth it?”
The man shakes his head. He feels pathetic and afraid. He only wishes he could go back in time to stop himself from being so stupid.
Pseudo nods in response.
“Good. I’ll tell you what though, doll. Once I use a tool, I’ll put it away. But everything will be used. Got it?”
Chase’s eyes glance to the stun gun. He nods his head, feeling sick all over again.
“Good. How about you pick first then? Since you like making stupid decisions so much.”
He rolls the cart closer to Chase so he can get a better view of it, and perhaps to point with his eyes what he wants. But Chase shakes his head, a hum of fear crawling up his throat against his will.
“Hey, come now. You want to make choices, so make one. Pick something.”
The man brings his head back up to meet Pseudo’s gaze. He pleads with his eyes, with his frown. He doesn’t want to. Don’t make me, please?
Pseudo tilts his head, waiting.
“Pick.”
Chase blinks tears from his eyes and turns back to his options. He points with his eyes, and says what he wants in his head, just in case Pseudo is listening.
Whiskey.
Pseudo points at the stun gun. “This?”
Chase shakes his head. No, no, whiskey. He moves forward slightly to stare harder at the bottle.
“This?”
The gardening scissors.
Chase shakes his head again, pleading, pleading, chewing on his tongue. Whiskey!
Pseudo lands on the whiskey, and Chase nods and relishes in his relief.
“Alright...”
Pseudo opens the bottle, and presents it to Chase’s mouth. “Drink.”
The puppet obeys, drinking swig after swig after swig, until its spilling over his mouth and down his chin. He starts coughing and spitting it up, but Pseudo keeps it trained on his lips. He begins to feel like he’s drowning in the alcohol before it’s pulled away, and Chase’s throat is left to burn like a hungry fire while he coughs out the poison.
“Catch your breath… it wasn’t that bad.”
It takes him a few minutes of back patting and condescending encouragements to finally settle down. He tries breathing through his mouth to calm the burning in his throat, but Pseudo takes it as an excuse to pour more poison into his body.
The same motions repeat, and the bottle is halfway gone by the time Pseudo pulls it away again. But the cap goes back on, and just as Pseudo promised, its put on the bottom shelf of the cart.
“That was an easy one… so I think I’ll pick next.”
He picks up the nail- gun, and places it to Chase’s shin.
The puppet sits up, and the wire that holds him down digs into his skin. With eyes wide and breath fast, he shakes his head, clamping down his jaw to keep himself from speaking up. His tongue endures more abuse from his teeth.
“Which leg pressed the gas?”
Chase shakes his head again, tears falling down his face as the fear takes over him. Please, please, no. He shrivels into himself like a raisin, and the wire once again digs deeper and deeper into his flesh.
“Which leg, dolly? Point with your eyes.”
The doll sobs a little harder, shaking his head.
“No? Maybe I’ll just hit both, then…”
His eyes shoot open to stare at his right leg, tears blurring his vision. At this Pseudo chuckles, tilting his head and keeping his eyes on the doll’s face.
“I’m just messing with you,” he smiles. “But it would’ve been very interesting had you pointed at your left.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, a nail goes shooting through Chase’s tibia. It digs down as deep as it can get, cracking the bone with the force.
He screams as loud as he can muster. His already burned throat doesn’t do well with the strain, but its even worse when another nail goes shooting through just below the first one. He can’t stop himself from crying about it.
The nail- gun drops into the bottom shelf, and Pseudo calls his puppet back to focus. He coos at him, tapping his face, until Chase gets the hint.
“It’s your turn, puppet.”
The doll looks at his leg. His pants are soaked with blood and alcohol, but he cant see the nails from this angle. Perhaps thats a good thing.
He turns back to the cart, and makes his choice.
Salt.
Pseudo points at the Sjambok. Chase shakes his head.
Pseudo points at the gardening scissors. Chase shakes his head, leaning closer to the salt.
He points at the stun gun. Chase loses his breath, and leans even closer.
Salt!
“Mh, I’m just not sure what you’re saying. I suppose I’ll pick..”
Pseudo picks up the glass shards, and starts shoving them one by one into Chase’s thigh. He uses the last one to give his doll’s cheek a little cut, and tosses it into the cart. The remaining shards stay planted in flesh like sprouting seeds. It hurts, but it feels like a break compared to what he just felt.
Next, Pseudo picks up the Sjambok, and stands up.
“Lean forward.”
Chase groans, shivering. He feels dizzier and dizzier, and the world feels harder to navigate. Is he getting drunk already?
“Don’t make me ask again, dolly. You don’t want this to hit your face, do you?”
The doll succumbs and does as he’s told. Once he’s in position, Pseudo waits to watch his puppet just breathe. His chest rises and falls fervently in his lap, just barely grazing the glass. After enough tension builds to make Chase whimper, he strikes his back hard.
A large slice of blood erupts from the source, and the doll screams into his knees. Another three strikes are given, and the Sjambok is tossed to the floor.
Chase sobs like a child. He can’t get enough air in his lungs, and the tears seem to be never ending. Everything already aches, and there’s still so much to do. He feels dizzy and faint, unsure if its the blood loss or the alcohol, or both. But before he can get his bearings again, the wounds on his back sting bad enough for him to wail all over again.
Salt, salt, salt, like trails of snow, poured into his open wounds. Pseudo holds the back of his neck to keep him in place.
“Stop!” Chase weeps, squirming and crying like it’ll do something useful. “Please, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry!! Please stop!”
Pseudo clicks his tongue three times, finishing the last row and putting the salt away.
“You just can’t get enough of this, can you, sweetheart?”
Chase sits up once free, writhing in pain. He sways as the alcohol takes over the remaining of his control, and the pain takes its place close behind. He can’t press his back to the chair, but cant lean forward, either. Everything hurts. He’s too dizzy, he feels drunk already. His wrists ache and look as red as his crying face does.
Pseudo plucks the needle and thread from the cart.
“Quiet, dolly, or this will hurt a lot more than you’d like it to.”
“Nonono, please, please!” he weeps. “I wont do it again, I won’t ever do it again, I’ll do everything you say, I’m s— ah!!”
Pseudo smacks Chase on the mouth hard enough to shove his back into the chair.
“Enough. You’re being awfully stupid..”
The needle comes up from his bottom lip first, snaking its way to the top lip. Row after row, sob after sob, every sound that comes out of Chase’s mouth becomes muffled. Blood drips down his chin to follow the paths that the alcohol took beforehand. The salty tears sting the cut on his cheek, and whatever wound from the stitches that they can get into.
The gardening scissors cut the remaining thread, and both tools are tossed to the bottom of the cart. At least his fingers wont have the same fate as Richie’s.
The next tool that’s chosen is barbed wire. Pseudo uses it to wrap around Chase’s torso and arms, making sure to roll up any clothing so the razors meet his skin instead of fabric. Then, the stun gun finds his hand.
Chase’s head swims. He shakes his head, his cries becoming weaker but more afraid by the second. He’d take anything over the stun gun. Even the nail- gun. The sensory hell that comes from electricity is simply too much for him to take right now.
“Readyyyy?” Pseudo sings. “You’re almost done.”
But Chase isn’t, nor will he ever be, ready for the stun gun. He shakes his head again, a pathetic sob bubbling up from his throat. He sinks deeper into the chair, regretting everything he’s done within the last two days. He wants to wake up in the attic with the sun on his face and be confused about what’s happening again. He wants to be hypnotized and treated like a doll, to be coddled and loved and doted upon for whatever fucked up reason Pseudo has for doing it. He wants to be Pink, he wants to be Pink, he wants to be Pink.
Pseudo aims at Chase’s shoulder, and shoots.
His entire body tenses up from the electricity. What little control he had before has now left him, and he is left to scream and endure for 10 seconds.
15.
20.
Chase opens his eyes to see Pseudo standing over him. He can’t breathe, he cant see, the world swims and twists in his eyes. The room spins and there are fire ants crawling across his entire body, with burrows dug deep into his flesh. He looks down at himself, seeing bugs crawling all across his skin.
“Mmm- mmmm!!!”
Chase writhes and hollers like his life depends on it. There are bugs on his skin!! He can feel them burrowing into his flesh, into his shin, his wrists, his torso, his mouth, his thigh!!!!! They’re everywhere!!!
He screams and screams and screams as they take over his whole body, making a home inside every space they can. Pseudo grabs hold of his doll’s face, forcing his eye contact and attention.
“Settle down,” he commands. “You’re alright. Deep breaths, Pink. Deep breaths.”
He keeps squirming and fighting, keeps sobbing and sinking deeper into the chair as the bugs eat him up like candy. But Pseudo comes soothing, and kind, and Chase feels heavier and heavier until the whole world feels too far away to focus. But Pseudo is there, and Pseudo is helpful. Pseudo gets the bugs away.
“You’re okay, Pink. Listen to me now, deep breaths. You’re all done.”
All done? All done?
Pink shivers. He remembers what he did, how stupid and dangerous that was. He can’t believe he’d do such a thing, especially when an angel like Pseudo is here to take care of him. What’s wrong with him?
Pink whines as he’s set free from his restraints. As all the barbed wire is peeled from his body and the glass shards are plucked out one by one. He sighs, especially thankful, when he’s able to take a breath through his mouth as the thread is cut away. He has no choice but to lean into Pseudo when scooped up into his arms, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wants to be good now, and he’ll promise that once he’s allowed to speak again.
“You’re alright, Pink. I’ve got you back now, hm? You’re alright.”
Pink whines once more, feeling overwhelmed with the urge to fall asleep.
. . .
Oh, his head hurts.
Where is Pseudo?
Pink opens his eyes to find himself alone in his room. His body feels heavy and beaten, and everything hurts. Upon seeing the sun shine through the window, he is overcome with a wave of nausea so strong that he has to lean over his bed. When he tries to sit up, however, the pain in his back and ribs is enough to make him cry out. The nausea gets worse until he gags, covering his eyes and mouth and pretending Pseudo is there to coach him through it. Once it passes, he opens his eyes, half expecting to see Pseudo already there and waiting.
The puppet groans, observing his empty room. He wants to call out for Pseudo, but closes his mouth upon remembering he’s not supposed to speak. He wishes he could ask for some water, or a hug.
Instead he asks for attention by knocking on the wall. Everything in his body hurts, so standing up to make noise doesn’t feel like a safe option for him. He just hopes that Pseudo notices soon, whether that’s through annoyance or wanting to be by his puppet. He can’t take much longer without seeing his angel.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, says Pinks room.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.
The knocks are eventually returned at the door, and Pink hears a key turn into the lock. The door opens, and Pink smiles dopey and adoring.
“Ps-“ he starts, before covering his mouth. He wants to say sorry, but then he’d have to say sorry for saying sorry, and then sorry for saying sorry for saying sorry. So he just clamps his jaw shut, and prays that Pseudo forgives him for his near mistake.
“My Pink,” Pseudo croons. The key is concealed inside his pocket, and he makes his way towards his doll. “Do you feel sick this morning?”
Pink nods, sighing and relaxing when Pseudo comes to sit beside him. As if that weren’t enough, Pseudo runs a hand through Pink’s hair, and the doll leans as far into his touch as possible. He wants moments like these to last forever.
“Poor thing… but you’ll be good now, won’t you? No more slip ups like yesterday.”
Pink’s face burns in embarrassment. He can’t believe what he did; the regret consumes him. He shakes his head, holding Pseudo’s hand and kissing his palm to show his devotion.
Pseudo smiles and runs his hand through Pink’s hair, and the puppet basks in the attention. He can’t get enough of it. He isn’t sure why he ever tried to leave in the first place. Stupid, stupid puppet.
“That’s precious.. but, I have to make sure you’re being honest, don’t I?”
Pink nods. That makes sense, and he’ll do anything to prove himself.
“Good. Because if you’re good..”
He runs a hand through Pink’s hair, and a thumb across his cheek bone. The puppet melts.
“Then I’ll bring you back home, and I’ll spoil you rotten.”
Pink smiles. This time, he blushes from contentment. From adoration.
“But if you’re bad, if you show me you want to escape again, I’ll make sure you end up alone. No one will take care of you.”
Pink frowns, afraid. He points at Pseudo, and shakes his head. Not even you?
“You’ll be alone, Pink. Out of your head,” he pets Pink’s hair again, “and all alone. Do you understand?”
Yes. Pink nods.
“Good. Then I should see you soon, dolly. Don’t fret about it when you get there, hm? Nothing to be afraid of if you’re a good puppet.”
Pink wants to ask where he’s going, but is left to wonder until it happens.
#good god#i’ve been writing this for almost 7 hours#i hope u guys enjoyed and again im so sorry its so ooooo long#i jsut wanted to make up for that long long hiatus#like i know thats pretty common for this series and like#other authors in general#but i want to start posting more consistently#cos i like this series a lot and i love hearing your guys’ opinions on it too#anyway#im so sleepy#sorry if there’s any mistakes in there#thank you guys for being so so supportive and patient#you all motivate me to keep writing this so thank u <33#locksorkeysgame#choose your own adventure#choose your own story#puppet pink#pseudo#my writing#ill probably add more tags tomorrow#wish me luck on my exam i wrote this instead of studying for it lololololol#whump writing#whump#whump community#whumpee#whump series#whumper#whumper is also caretaker#hypnosis whump
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"It'd be super interesting to hear these counterarguments 👀."
@goopi-e Well let's see… where should I start? The mass assumption that Ganondorf just sort of left his kingdom for dead and stayed holed up in Hyrule Castle for seven entire years, (lolwut???) no longer caring about his fellow gerudos or even letting them know what the hell was going on?
Or something else? Maybe something a little dicier? Like the existence of gibdos? Or the fact he didn't save Nabooru after his moms decided her punishment? ... That last one might be a little self explanatory, though, if you understand his mindset.
Ganondorf is a man with a very strong sense of justice and a very skewed sense of morality. I think it's actually because he cared that he'd ever punish or let his people be punished like she was. Twinrova were his mothers too, so, it's likely he trusted their judgement more than anyone else's. A lower ranking pair of gerudo might not have gotten away with dealing justice in his name like that.
But I digress. I know I have to be missing something. I'm just very tired today and have a lot on my mind. Do feel free to let me know, though, if any of that interests you or if there's another thing I forgot to address that you want me to go into.
#q&a#personal hc#thank you for showing interest though. I sometimes feel like my ideas and opinions do little but make me a pariah.#haha... I say 'sometimes' like it's not actually 'always'#anyway when you factor in the fact Ganondorf can teleport/see and speak over long distances the whole 'leaving his people for dead' thing#becomes even MORE ridiculous. Like... come on people. Use your noggin. WHY would they worship someone who abandoned them for seven years???#Especially when it was clear they had a lot of conflict with the Hylians during those years. but that's just my 2 cents.#And yes I'm aware there was a small group that were likely either anti war or pro hylian and those are who we see at the end credits of OoT#But with any group of people with strong opinions there will always be some with opposing views so I do not take that as a significant#sign of 'abandonment'. if he truly had abandoned them we would have actually heard about it.#(The fact the end-credit gerudos were all wearing white too denotes to me some kind of shared relation or belief system between them.)#Instead we hear them sing his praises and even gossip stones will tell you how much the gerudos love their king.#All of which I think deserves more attention than we give it credit for.#He wasn't just a hero to his people in totk he was that and MORE to them in OoT.#ANYWAYS I'M DONE WITH MY TAG NOVEL.#*SLAMS BEER ON TABLE* *IT TIPS OVER AND SPILLS EVERYWHERE*#BYE
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#i have so many baby dragons in my house rn it is not even funny#i mean it kind of is it's just nice to see this man doing something he loves#i have a personal favorite name but i want to hear some other opinions!#he likes all of them and says he is curious what other people think#thank you for your input smooches and fist bumps!
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Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)
summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right?
wc: 2.5k
author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists!
warnings: none!
You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?”
The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”
“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”
You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
“I just came to give you this.”
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”
“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”
“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
“He peels your oranges for you?”
You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”
“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”
“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”
“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight.
“Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”
“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”
“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”
“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”
“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”
“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”
You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”
Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between.
“Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”
“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.
“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”
“What else?”
“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.
“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”
“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”
“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”
“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition.
“I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.
But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”
“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”
“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”
“Would you kiss me?”
“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”
“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.
Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#forzalando#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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Oliver is so fucking crisp. I want to study him in a lab. I need to read his mind. I need to understand him
#miranda talking shit#Not to be autistic on main but people unlike me i always want to understand and hes unlike me a lot#I havent seen him in like two weeks and im like aw shit its so nice to hear you spew your opinions hell yes#Also: me: logically i know people lie but emotionally i dont think people i love would lie to me (have nothing to gain from lying)#Him: Miranda people lie all the time. Me: do you lie to me? Him: i lie to everyone except you.#He didnt have to say that last part but thank you...#Also he praised me for doing the plank before bed almost every night since he told me to#Seratonin gained and the day is made thank you....
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cozy as a kitten
alastor/f!reader
warnings: there are none straight up fluff with a little bit of mild teasing c:
You’ve had a long and painstakingly hard day at the hotel.
Every time you thought you could catch a break and sit down someone or something was needing you to do just about everything.
Charlie and Vaggie needed your help for the days activity.
Angel needed your opinion on his new porn shoot.
Sir pentious blew a hole in the side of the hotel with a new invention that you had to confiscate.
Husk well he’s Husk…
Niffty got stuck in a toilet.
At this point you needed just somewhere to slip away for a while and it seemed you knew just the place.
As you ascended the stairs of his broadcasting tower..
Alastor was on the air, so you quietly watched him from the sidelines while he worked. Smiling softly to yourself as you could tell this was truly something the radio demon enjoyed doing (besides causing torment to those who wronged him) and saw how much dedication he put into it.
He finally notices you as he wraps up his last couple words and then signed off turning to you in his chair with that signature grin.
“Hi my dear! Are you feeling alright?~” Alastor taking in your wearisome expression.
“Yeah Al i’m fine…just been a long day and need to get off my feet.” You give him a soft smile as you then rub your eyes tiredly.
He looks around the room seeing as there were no other seats in the room besides his own.
Alastor then puts aside his mic letting it lean against his desk, dusting of his thighs as he pats his hand on his lap.
“Come here” His voice surprisingly soft and inviting which caught you off guard.
“Alastor you don’t have to-“
“I insist~” He cuts you off before you could even protest patting his thigh more demandingly now making you blush.
You walk your way over to him settling yourself on his lap though you sat stiff as a board making him chuckle.
“You can relax now sweetheart, i don’t bite..much~”
Your body went rigged as he said this, shoving your face in his chest to hide your now red face.
“HAHA can’t take the heat..” He teasingly whispered in your ear as the static in his voice was practically humming.
Then an uneasy feeling passes through you as you then hear his tentacles admit from the floor coming up to wrap around you, making your head poke up for a moment as they then stopped once wrapped around you almost like a blanket.
Feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside from the comfort it was bringing to you.
Alastor then runs his hand gently along your hair stroking it as you rested your head on his chest once more feeling your eyes getting more droopy.
“A-alastor~” Your voice tiresome as you attempt to fight the sleep over taking you.
“Shhhhh darling, just rest, you deserve it~” He shushes you softly and could swear you felt a small kiss being placed on your forehead before the slumber completely overtaken you.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST LIL FIC “hell’s little maid”!! i honestly was so iffy on it and felt that my writing was crap to be proven completely wrong 😭 which has now just made me want to write tons more so TY! TY! TY! ᰔᩚ
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor imagine#alastor fluff#alastor x reader#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings#☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor
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