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gutsby · 2 months

Text

Homemade

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.

Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.

Part of the Waiting Game series

“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”

Joel knew you meant it, too.

The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.

Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.

It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.

“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.

“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”

Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.

You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.

“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes.

“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.

“JOEL!”

Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.

You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.

Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.

“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”

The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.

“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”

You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.

The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.

“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”

“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.

Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.

He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.

“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”

“Yup.”

Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.

“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.

“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.

Then you pulled off.

“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.

“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.

It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.

“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”

Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”

You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.

Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.

“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”

Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.

He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.

You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.

“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”

He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.

“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”

With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.

“Get on the bed.”

You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.

“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.

In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.

When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.

“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”

That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.

Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.

Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.

Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.

You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.

He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.

“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.

Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.

“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”

Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.

“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”

It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.

Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?

Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.

The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.

Or another minute, it seemed.

You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.

“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”

Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.

No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.

You shivered and started to push Joel away.

“Can we maybe just—”

“Sweetie?!”

Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.

“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.

“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.

You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.

Your dad was caring like that.

He just never knew the right times to show up.

No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.

That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”

The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.

“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”

Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’

“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.

Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.

Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.

You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”

Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”

An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.

Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.

“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.

The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.

Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?

“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”

Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.

You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.

Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.

He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”

Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”

Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.

Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.

Maybe.

Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.

“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”

The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.

Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.

Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.

Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.

At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.

You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.

You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.

“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”

You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.

Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”

You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.

When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.

“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.

“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.

“Thank you, what?”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.

Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.

To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.

You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.

“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.

“You, daddy.”

“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”

“You, daddy.”

Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.

He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.

You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.

Water.

It wasn’t on your back anymore.

It was fanning between your legs.

Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.

“Try it one more time.”

You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.

You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.

“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”

Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.

“D-D-D—”

Damn, you sounded stupid.

“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.

In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.

“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”

Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,

“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”

“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”

But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,

“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”

Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,

“Daddy!”

Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.

You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”

In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.

“One more, sweet pea.”

“Joel—”

“And say it louder this time.”

Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.

Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:

“DADDY!”

You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.

Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.

The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.

“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.

“I—”

“Are you hurt?”

Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.

You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.

Your dad was still there.

The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.

You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.

“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”

“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”

That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.

Then he sighed.

“Alright.”

Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.

Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.

Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.

But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.

Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.

Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,

“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”

#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE #it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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whole-circus · 9 months

Note

I was wondering if you'd put your depiction on the creepypastas if the reader was a Tomie Kawakami like entity. I don't know if you have ever read or seen this character by Junji Ito or not so only do this if you're comfy

PS: have good day, hydrate and rest °v°

Creepypastas with Tomie Kawakami like!

➥ with Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Eyeless Jack, "Ticci" Toby, BEN Drowned, X-Virus

Hi! I just LOVE that idea!! I must say I enjoy reading Junji Ito's works (even if Tomie wasnt my fav)! Here you go hun, if you want some other characters feel free to say! >:3 Good day for you too, take care! Also you waited so long im sorry, I had to made small break and now I feel like my "work" is shitty!!!!

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

Jeff the Killer

Okay I feel like at first Jeff would pretend that he is not into you..who knows why? His own deep insecurities? Or he just doesnt like the idea of how flirty you are? You know, he usually is the one making first move and toying with others (making them obv uncomfy, he act like definition of "white straight good guy" lol). But no worries, he does find you absolutely cute, thinks you are prettiest person walking on earth (and you are all that actually). Listen, he wont magically turn into huge simp..but! you make him feel things. Congrats, you have high chance to broke Jeff and make him lovely-dovely on his weird way towards you! No matter if you are already in relationship with him or not, he gest pretty possesive and jealous over you! Come on, you cant be all pretty and cute AND have everyone all over you! People who adores you might end up dead before you will be able to kill them. Definitely would try threaten people to stop talking to you..its up to you if you find it cute or scary tho!

Jane the Killer

Jane gives me huge femme fatale vibes so i feel like you would really vibe together (no matter your gender)! And come on!! She understands the need of revenge like no one else!! Jane wants to beat Jeff ass! Adores you so much..not only you are absolutely gorgeous but also pretty smart too! Appearance matter in some way to her, but I think she would actually be into intelect and personality more than how you look like. And the fact that you are such a great manipulator!! You will make her fall in love with you even more. She is such a cutie im telling you! Jane is jealous but she puts that aside all that aside and she just worries about your yeah well technically you cant die, but what damage your brain will damage your brain and stay for long time! She doesnt want you to get hurt, even if you are doing the big scary job here!

Eyeless Jack

Demon partner with demonish partner? Isnt that perfect? Yeah yeah, you are diffrent from eachother but definitely have common ground, arent you? Dunno why but I feel like your charm wouldnt work on him just becasue of what he is. That doesnt mean that he doesnt find your ass cute tho! He just you know..its not really obsessive but more of actual feelings. Even if other pastas fell in love with your character too, then Jack would be a bit diffrent and at first fell for who you are and not what you look like! When it comes to possible of jealousity, he is not that much of envious about people who you flirt with/or they flirt with you! He clearly understands that you do it more for your..entertainment and to cause chaos (and maybe some sort of revenge). Also he is immortal, you are immortal - best couple to ever exist! You will spend eternity with eachother so he doesnt have anything to worry about!

"Ticci" Toby

Damn reader, you will break Toby! He gets so shy and so blushy around you.. Especially if you are flirting with him! Doesnt really like the idea of you and other people being a bit flirty. He gets jealous easly and it leads him to being insecure and doubtful of himself - he knows that he is not perfect, and all your actions make him even more anxious. Toby does care so much about your opinion so he just bottles it all up, not wanting to mess up even more! But I bet you are smart human being and feel that something is wrong. Just reassure him that you love him a lot and he is way diffrent than people you talk to (well, he is in fact atill alive, isnt he) and he is good to go!

BEN Drowned

Ben is Ben, not a simple thought in his head. Yeah kidding, but he just cant help but simp over you so so much! Like he is down on his knees at your service the second he sees you! Dont get me wrong, you are not only what you look like but its the first thing he notices about you! It would be almost too easy to manipulate him, but we dont do that here..(at least I hope so). Anyway, he literally worships you, you are the most good-looking person out here! And he is a ghost, he has seen a lot. About your habit of flirting around and then watchin somebodys downfall? I cant say he is not jealous, but he wont show it. Also finds your actions pretty funny. Who doest like to see someone dying becasue of their stupidy? Yeah, definitely not Ben, loves the chaos you cause.

X-Virus

Cody enjoyes how flirty you are! Okay well, maybe he only enjoys that if you are flirty with him! For real, you get him all giggly and blushy to be honest. Its so easy to tease him and so fun to look at! Propably tries his best to do the same but fails miserably. Your relationship give me a bit of nerd x popular partner vibe lol! You know, he literally spends half of his time in lab or studying for fun + Cody propably stinks. Now here you are, having such a mesmerizing appearance!! (You are fun to be around to, lets not be so vain!) . At the same time he asks many question, its just in his nature to enjoy knowing things. He just cant help but wonder what or who are you..but who wouldnt want to know that?..And please try to get idea of testing you or making small experiments out of his small silly head!! He is weirdo like that! But at the end of a day he is your weirdo!

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

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milksuu · 2 months

Note

Hii! This is my first time sending a request haha! Well, could you Heartsteel Aphelios with Reader who’s a hardcore Gamer?

(I mean, like ungodly amounts of hours on a multitude of games. Always hitting new high scores. And the classic, eyebags from lack of sleep.)

⌜heartsteel!aphelios x fem!reader⌟ ╰ ❝ YOU CAN'T WIN A GIRLFRIEND IN A 1 V 1 ! ❞

❥ prompt: Aphelios thought there wasn't a single soul in the entire universe stupid enough to challenge him to a 1v1. But apparently, the 'God of Gaming' thought to use their last brain cell to bet their final testament. Little did you know, you'd fall from grace, then forced to play in some idols sick twisted game of pay-back. ❥ content/warnings: enemies to lovers vibe, affectionate bullying, name calling, teasing, fake relationship, fluff (?), 100% emotional dmg ( + crit. bonus on reader)

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ 'GOD OF GAMING'....that's what they call you. An immortal being born to play and dominate the realm of video games in all facets. Sleep's inevitably for the weak and uncommitted. It's a mark of honor to wield dark, heavy under bags beneath your eyes, so long as it meant keeping your rightful place on the throne.

Even in the realm of FPS, no one dares contest your dominance on top of the leaderboard. It's impossible for anyone who even thinks to get more than three hours of daily sleep. Until this night, at the deathly hour of 3 A.M on a Tuesday, an unknown player sweeps in announced. First round on top was a newby flook. You were busy taking a few breaks in game to sip on your energy drink. Second time, the damn bastard is kill stealing from even your weakest team mates. Third time he makes top of the leaderboards...now that's a personal attack on your reputation.

It's not long till various social tweets race like wildfire across all media platforms. Nothing more than constant jabs and reminders of how fickle your place is in this revolving door of a world. It makes you crinkle your fifth can of gamer fuel. There's only one way to respond to this usurper trying to contest your territory.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS sits back in his chair, tapping a finger on his desk. He narrows his eyes against a blaring screen. Who even was this? He had no clue. All he can recall is playing some random game out of boredom, then a monsoon of social tweets pestering him and some other guy who likes gaming. Maybe a little too much, he suspects.

He does his own social media rummaging, scuffing at his findings. You practically live inside your room, dedicating your whole life to playing video games. Apparently, it's your entire livelihood. He doesn't envy you one bit; pity is the better word that comes to mind. Your entire aesthetic is wearing an oversized hoodie that covers everything (probably your man boobs), and even your face. Except for your eyes. Holy hell, those eyebags were heavier than Sett's banana hammock on a hot summer's day.

Lazily, he opens up his calendar; checking event dates, rehearsal dates, fan meet dates. Tomorrow's his only free day for the week. Luckily for you, that's the one day you demanded from him. And of course some holed-up undesirable would ask another guy to challenge him at a internet cafe. No big deal. He'd set aside a few minutes to put you in your place. Then, completely forget about your entire existence the next day.

Aphelios accepts the challenge and locks in the date. When the day of divine retribution comes, he shows up twenty-minutes before hand. He purposely waits in front of the internet cafe you chose. Only to enjoy the sight of watching some idiot (you) sweating in a hoodie, barely able to catch your breath before you stood at his feet. Oddly enough, something different turns the corner. Eye-catching, even.

"Hey. Looks like you didn't chicken out on me," you comment, brushing away your done up hair from your shoulder. "Guess I'll give you kudos for that."

Aphelios does a double-take, trying to process the image of you online to what's standing in front of him. From his perspective, you look every bit of a model that just stepped out of a photo shoot. Where did those bags go? Man boobs? No, girl boobs? Was being reversed cat-fished a thing?

(Imagine the power of a whole eight hours of sleep and wardrobe change)

You quirk a brow at his silent, mile-long stare. "Um, yeah. Let's make this quick. I have plans to go shopping after this. So I want to get this over with so I can get on with my day. Sound good to you?"

Before he can respond, you brush pass him, slipping through the doors behind. Blinking away his sense of whiplash, Aphelios follows. It's not surprising to find a group of fans swarming and buzzing around the entire place. He's still stun-locked by your unexpected appearance. Observing as you go about in graceful fashion, greeting and hugging those in support of you.

"How about we make a deal before we start," you approach him again, placing your hands hotly on your hips. "I win, and you announce on all your social media platforms that I'm the better player. And your terms?"

Aphelios pauses. He made a hasty assumption. Thinking you were some guy living like a wall rat inside his own apartment. The slight margin of error has his lips curling in the most sadistic fashion. This was going to work out much more in his favor. And there's no intention of letting you off so easily. Being an attractive girl was never a default for mercy. He pulled out his cell, and typed the following:

If I win, you have to be my girlfriend for a month.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ YOU READ the words out loud, and the whole atmosphere cuts to silence. Your mouth trembles, before you burst with laughter as does the rest of the room. Clutching your cramping stomach, you swat the air in frantic motions. "Y-You can't be serious," you say with attempts to catch your breath. "You think you're going to win? That's so funny. How embarrassing for you. To think you'd even have a single chance to date me." Calming your breaths, you send him one final death glare and spit out the word. "Delusional."

Walking to take your seat, you ignore his unfaltering gaze trailing you. There's a glint in his eyes that tells you he's enjoying whatever hamster wheel is spinning inside his head. You need to add the poor hamster is obviously sick, forced into labour and probably part of a lab experiment.

When the match starts, no one feels the need to invest too much into the game. You were, after all, the 'God of Gaming'. It wasn't going to be a fair match to begin with. Until the game ends before anyone can blink twice; especially you.

The rule to win the round was simple; land the first headshot. Needles to say, you didn't.

Your eyes widen against the screen. Your death screen pops, and your lifeless body collapses. Adding unnecessary amounts of salt in the wound, your scumbag of an opponent crouches over your head. Repeatedly. Your trembling vision shifts away, past your monitor to the opposite side. Slowly, Aphelios leans casually into view, a cocky eyebrow cinched high into his forehead.

You grit your teeth, hand tightening into fists that would mark the inside of you palms. Pestering whispers and scandalous talk rise and echo around you. There's no way to escape the shame. You bow your head in defeat. What else can you do? There wasn't any use in fighting. You have to save whatever drop of class and honor you have left. Anything out of pocket, and your whole reputation could crumble. You push yourself away from the desk, pacing to meet your bastard of an opponent on the other side.

"Good...good game," your voice strangles to leave your tight lips. You try hard not to ruin your face with a scowl. Especially when Aphelios stands pretty damn tall, staring down at you like a child that just had good a spanking. Taking out his phone, he shows you some text:

Sure. Guess you would call it a good game. And now that you're my girlfriend, it's only reasonable to go on a date with me. As my reward and all. Those were the terms. Right?

The blood inside your veins boil. You want nothing more than to slap that phone out of his hands, and crush it beneath your heels. You reserve to grinding your teeth. Aphelios merely smiles through a devilish crinkle in his blood moon eyes. And it's now dawning on you; he's made a full-proof plan to make you suffer.

From what I know, girlfriend's hold onto their boyfriends hands. And also call them 'babe' as a loving pet name. Right?

You want to scream at the top of your lungs right now. Holding your breath, you withhold it from your surrounding scrutiny. When he reaches out his hand, you take it tensely. He chuckles when your manicured nails dig aggressively into the skin of his hand.

It’s cute how badly my girlfriend wants to hold my hand. I’d be careful, though. The harder she squeezes, the more I kind of like it.

You gulp and loosen your grip. Honestly, where the hell does he get off saying stuff like that so casually? How humiliating. And it was just the start of your month of impending doom.

Like any ‘proper’ date, he drags you to one of his usual spots in town for a meal. It's odd to witness him take the lead so naturally; as if you really were his damn girlfriend. When he offers to order and pay for the both of you, you almost hesitate. However, you weren't going to turn down a free meal. Even if it came from your current worst enemy.

“Oh. Um…then I’ll have the burger. No pickles.” Aphelios sends you a yard long stare, and you know he's siphoning you for more. You blush, turning a cheek. “Please, b-babe?”

You can tell he leers underneath his mask, like a cat whose gotten his cream. He leaves you briefly, before returning and setting a tray of food in front of you. For a moment, you stare at the hamburger with warranted skepticism. You raise your pair of squinting eyes at Aphelios, whose already pulled down his mask to quietly enjoy his meal. After a beat, you lower your restraints, and slowly take a bite. You immediately stiffen and gag, spitting up into a napkin. There's definitely pickles—loads of them.

Aphelios almost chokes on his own laugher at your award winning expression of disgust. He slides his phone across the table:

Oh. Sorry. I thought you said extra pickles. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Freaking bastard! Before you can smack his phone off the table, he snatches it back to the safety of his pocket. With a growl, you slough off the heaps and slices of fermented food. You're able to de-pickle the patty, but there's little joy in eating something with the faint essence of the nastiest condiment.

And after a not-so-enjoyable lunch, he takes you to a nearby pâtisserie for dessert. While waiting, and you have a half a mind to run out. Or call the local circus so they can come get their evil clown back. You're terrified to see what he's planning to bring you. And when he does, your mouth instantly waters. You stare down at a cute, decorative dessert parfait. It looks perfect with no hidden pickles (don't put it past him though). Your eyes glisten at the extravagant layers of yogurt, fruit compote, and whipped cream. Not to mention, the glazed whole strawberries on top, glittering with snow powder sugar. Giddy with excitement, you almost forget the silent devil sitting next to you. Before you can take the first bite, Aphelios intercepts your hand, brings it to his lips, and claims it for himself.

There's only one spoon, you know. And like any good girlfriend, it only makes sense to hand feed her boyfriend. Down to the very. last. bite.

There's a twitch in your face. You really want to dump the whole dessert pile onto his head. Unfortunately, that would be a major insult to the parfait. Exhaling your fury through your nostrils, you belly the desire to murder him with a plastic spoon. Grumbling, you perform your embarrassing 'girlfriend' duty. Nearing the end of this round of torture, he smiles—all at your expense, of course.

Wow. Am I full. Thanks for that. I'm actually feeling kind of generous from all your devoted attention. Tell you what. I'll let you have the last bite.

"Yeah, right," you snort. "Like I would ever share the same spoon with you, let alone anything you've touched on this Earth—hmph!" Before you can finish your berating monologue, Aphelios flips your hand around and slips the spoon inside your mouth.

ㅉㅉ You shouldn't talk with your mouth full. Silly. You might choke. And I rather not have that on my conscious.

You whine, trying to swallow your way through a verbal tantrum. Who knew it'd be so difficult to argue with delicious yogurt in your mouth? Still, reality settles shortly after the sweetness melts from your tongue. A certain thought springs a bitter aftertaste. For all intents and purposes, you both just shared an indirect kiss.

You smack the spoon on the table, feeling your face heat up. Yet, he's just sitting there, sly with composure. Not bothered by any of it—this sick 'fake dating' sims game. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair! How many times did you have such an experience through your dating visual novel games? Too many to count. Yet, despite all those perfect moments with your various 2-D boyfriends, this fake 3-D imposter, just ruined the whole trope experience for you. There was no way you could replay those scenes and not think about your suffering today. You would damn this man to Hell again, but obviously, he enjoys vacationing there.

It was funny when you thought your gruelling date would conclude after dessert. Aphelios made sure to think of various, and random places to drag you to for no good reason. He's perfecting the art of physically and mentally exhausting you. Stroll in the park? He may or may not have put a caterpillar on your head. Watch you freak out about it, and then relish in having you beg him to help you. Lovely time window shopping at an outdoor mall? He makes sure to slip away and watch you panic trying to find him in the mass of busy bodies. Before you know where your head's at, you blink up against lit downtown buildings, store fronts and street lights.

Well, today's been fun. Just one last thing to make this date perfect. Something my girlfriend will definitely love.

An all too knowing smile creases his mask again. Taking your hand, he leads you away to the next destination in mind. With your eyes half-lidded with fatigue and feet already beaten to a pulp by your heels, you force yourself to stop caring. Like everything else, you'll just go along with it and pray it's over soon.

⌜LUV-U ♡ HOTEL⌟

Your mouth drops at the sight of a pink and flickering neon sign a few steps away. Did he really just drag you to a Love Hotel!? You swallow hard. Nevermind, you did care. You cared a lot! "This has to be a joke, right? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you take me inside—"

You're cut short as you're tugged forward. Nearing the entrance, your heart pounds louder than the surrounding nightlife. Your thoughts are racing. And watching another couple walk out looking rather satisfied with their stay doesn't help your emotions at all. That is, until he casually leads you past the hotel and around the corner, where there's vending machine against the wall. He releases his hold and gestures to it.

What are you talking about? Take you inside where? And no. There's no joke about this being the best vending machine in town for canned coffee. ㅎ_ㅎ

You stare with dumbfounded horror as he purchases two cans, and places one in your stiff hands. You look down at your coffee and contemplate just about everything up till this point. How big of a mistake it was to meet someone like him. Worse yet, be at his mercy over a stupid bet you set in place...and actually lost. How did your life turn out this way? Regret and humiliation well up as tears against your eyes. You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth. With the last of your dignity on the line; you'd rather die at this point than cry in front of him.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS lowers his drink from his lips, watching you from the side of his lashes. Looks like you were at your limit. Maybe he went a little too far. But every bit of his ego wants to rationalize it was well deserved. A pestering knot tightens like a fist at the base of his sternum. It bothers him enough to turn his neutral expression into a frown. His gaze catches your trembling legs, and traces them all the way down to your heels. His eyes widen by a margin; it's insane to think you hadn't complained about your feet hours ago. Looks like that knot wasn't going away anytime soon.

He tosses away your cans and raises his phone:

Take off your heels.

"What?" You're at a complete loss for words. Was he now going to force you to walk barefoot on the gross streets? You shake your head. "No way. Forget it. If you want me to take them off so bad, then do it yourself—Jerk!"

Aphelios flutters his eyelids in annoyance. More so that, for a split moment, he found himself not entirely hating the insult used against him. Forgetting the stupid interruption of his brain, he bends down and starts unlacing your straps. "H-Hey, wait a second you freaking weirdo. I didn't actually mean it literally."

It doesn't take much effort to hoist you onto his back, wrap your arms around his neck, and press your thighs snug against his waist. He anticipates a spit fire reaction. To his surprise, you simply huff and puff out your cheeks, muttering another possible insult. Honestly, he was sure you would've taken this opportunity to choke him out in a headlock. (He would've done it, but glad you didn't).

With a final adjustment, he hands you his cell phone, open with the map application. It seems it takes you a moment to realize he wants you to put your address so that he can dump you back wherever you live.

"You really plan on carrying me all the way to my house?" He can't see your expression, but by delivery alone, he can hear the blush in your cheeks. After a few taps and a mutter, he gets his phone back. "You better delete my address later. Or your new name's going be 'Stalker'."

Aphelios can't help but scuff. Like he would waste any more of his free time on inflating your already big head. He wonders how you even manage to fit your head through any shirt holes.

For a short while, you don't speak. As he walks through more quieter neighborhood streets, he feels your body condense further into his back.

"Mm, you know, for a being a cold jerk...somehow, you feel super warm," you breathe sleepily against his earlobe.

After a mumble or two, you commit to a terribly sleepy idea. Closing your eyes, you place your lips against his neck. Lingering, your mouth is soft and warm against his skin. Slightly sticky from whatever lip gloss you still have left. After the longest moment of his life, you abandon your spot. But he can feel your sleep drunk smile from how close your lips still are.

"Heh, there..I already kissed you, so...now you can't make me do it later....jerk."

When you finally doze off with light breathes and snores, Aphelios comes to a complete halt. It takes a moment to process. Then, without his consent, his neutral complexion flushes bright pink. The spot where you kissed him feels like it's burning a hole straight through him, down to his thumping pulse. He exhales a hot and heavy breath. It's warm enough to puff in the night air. With a shake of his head, he finds his walking pace, continuing towards your apartment.

He refuses to let you sway him with whatever tricks and flirts you have up your sleeve. He wasn't a swoonful idiot like most. And Aphelios knows he has a whole month worth of you still left. He'd make sure you always knew who you were dealing with. And by the end of it all, he'd make sure you'd never be able to get him off your mind.

A brewing smirk lifts one corner of his lips. This game was going to be more fun than he expected. And just like every other game, he would ultimately win.

Too bad for you, he mused to himself.

an;; ahhh thank you all for all your sweet messages i've been receiving through my hiatus. really appreciate it. trying to get back in the swing of things of answering anon. reqs. and working on my cleaning lady fic as well.

ngl, i swear, i hc so hard the phel can be such a sadistic/vengful bitch hell bent ruining anyone's life. like hes so unbothered by things and keeps to himself, that the minute you try to test him in that department, yeah no, you're officially on his shit list for life. how sweet how my man can hold grudge. <3

#heartsteel #league of legends #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel x reader #aphelios x reader #reader insert #request #fem!reader #reqs open #heartsteel fic

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quitealotofsodapop · 4 months

Note

One thing I don't think is mentioned enough is the fact that during the journey, a lot of Celestials took the opportunity to just... outright FUCK around with Wukong. Like, they'd send all sorts of demons their way intentionally just to intervene and say "Oh hey! You found my favorite pet!" Even Guanyin hadn't been innocent of this considering she had this huge fit over her pet goldfish. And if they weren't using their pets they were finding other methods to delay or otherwise force the Pilgrims off the beaten path and into danger out of some sort of test, spite, or pettiness.

Now, think about how in the both JTTW and Slow Boiled au Wukond actually was pregnant or not during the journey, and in Century au, the Heavenly Court BELIEVE he was pregnant. So imagine how those guys feel after they decided to fuck with Wukong put of spite and found out they unknowingly were stressing a pregnant monkey out!?

Yeah! Characters like Gold Star hide their identities to aid the main characters, while some are just... doing it for fun? Are they LARP-ing? And Monkey has Gold-Vision; why does he always not recognise these people even from his Celestial days?

Guanyin set up a whole honey trap knowing that half the squad ain't into it, and dropped the gang on their way home cus they missed 1 story event. The abbey with the Ginseng tree were pretty rude af. The Buddha's own servants tried to fleece the gang of the scriptures. Multiple kingdoms suffered cus King Who-Care shot somebody's bird-cousin, or knocked over a table of offerings. And the 28 Lunar Mansions took almost 13 years to realise that the Wood Wolf was missing.

Lao Tzu's lab assisants literally run off with his stuff and become demon lords for lulz (or they were the assisants that let the Rhino King/Buffalo out and were scared that they'd get in trouble). And lets not forget RHINO KING. Bruh, you somehow lost track of a gotdang celestial Bull-Rhino!?

Guanyin's not immune from this; TWO of her pets became horrific demons (Goldfish and Sai Taisui) and are arguably the most irredeemable of all the villains faced.

Lady Earth Flow/Albino Rat/Bat spirit is even described as Li Jing's adoptive daughter - how the f that happen?? How did he lose track of a whole kid so bad that she became a vampire-esque demon?

Manjusri let their cat (Azure Lion) out TWICE. And they cursed the Wuji kingdom for tossing them in a sewer for preeching.

After a point, I'd imagine Wukong in the stone egg aus would just throw his hands up and start yelling at the gods directly. He's even bolder in the Jttw Stone Egged au given that he has Macaque as back-up.

You know that chapter where Rhino King steals all of the Heavenly Army's powers and weapons, and the immortals are all infighting so hard that Wukong has to be the voice of reason?

Imagine a tiny hormonal monkey just going nuts at these gods. He's screaming in their faces. He's demanding Nezha lift him up so he can look General Li Jing in the eye. He's telling them what good are they as fighters if they only feel safe with their weapons and powers? Wukong has a *damn* good reason he ain't taking on Rhino King in a 1-v-1 rn, whats all these gods excuse?!

The gods are too surprised and intimidated to argue back. And you better believe a certain alchemist is getting a smack for letting a whole animal loose from his lab.

#slow boiled stone egg au #jttw stone egged au #sun wukong #pregnancy tw #lmk #lego monkie kid #journey the west #jttw

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glasswingowl · 1 year

Text

EP 4 PREMIERE LETS GOO (SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT)

Uzi's wing backpack is really cute! hope it's not foreshadowing anything :)

YES KHAN BE EMOTIONALLY VULNERABLE AND TRUST YOUR DAUGHTER WITH HER OWN FUTURE! I KNOW I KEPT SHIT TALKING YOU BUT I ALWAYS BELIEVED THAT ONE DAY YOU WOULDN'T ROYALLY SCREW UP EVERYTHING

also was Nori the one initially obsessed with doors? and doll's dad. he was in the photo too, but then again, so was khan. Was he infected or not? if he has an id card, i didn't see it

does. does no one know who uzi is?? she literally exploded a gun in the middle of class that isn't something you'd easily forget. i mean i guess no one would really "know" her considering her complete and utter lack of friends up until now

N AND V AS CAMP COUNSELORS HAHAHAHA OH THIS IS GOING TO GO GREAT I CAN ALREADY TELL

all the other drones immediately fawning over N and V lmao.

ooh uzi's got a much better grasp of her powers now. someone's been practicing

LMAO THEY EXPLICITLY SAID "THERE WERE NO DOGS ON COPPER 9 WHEN EVERYTHING WENT TO SHIT ALSO DOGS ARE IMMORTAL NOW"

oh N and V playing nice with the workers is really cute (also lizzy gets to sit with V!)

(also was i not paying attention or did thad just straight up disappear halfway through the episode)

V's being weird and cryptic again... also girl you know you're bluffing stop pretending you can just get rid of Uzi without consequences.

is uzi... resentful? is she upset that two literal murderers are able to make friends easier than her? poor girl.

oh hey doll. we thought you were dead (and you might still be idk what your fucking deal is anymore)

the killing/not killing the bug symbolism carries over to this episode too.

this bug can communicate! and we know for sure that it's connected to the solvers now!

it called her 002. it thinks she's nori. Were the inital test subjects registered, but not their children? would doll scan as yeva's number? (can't remember it off the top of my head)

oh she just turned that arrow into flesh. oh dear god it's alive. i never thought i say this, but i'm with uzi's classmates on this one what the fuck was that

"i live in the woods now!" ah yes that'll solve everything great job

oh uzi :( so this is why doll had such a large supply of oil on hand. good thing she had the stomach to drink it

(ok yeah thad's not with the group anymore where did he fuck off to)

YES N STAND UP TO V. DEMAND ANSWERS.

"she's a kid, like us V!" ... ok how old are they actually i want to know. "like us" implies similar age range at least and they kind of hinted at Uzi being 18-20 with the prom posters but i wish they'd just TELL us in canon or word of god it on twitter or something

LIZZY-

I thought rebecca's bf was Brad? did they break up? quick rebound time damn

oh doesn't matter they're gonna fucking die

JCjenson made a tape about "zombie drones". what did they know.

Flashback images: Tessa (looking VERY drone like), a severed hand hanging from a chandelier, and an explosion (that looks VERY solver-esque.)

oh shit's going downhill very quickly.

OH DEAR GOD. REBECCA. sorry Rebecca enjoyers that's an L for you guys.

OH. OH NO UZI. SHE'S GOT MURDER DRONE POWERS AND SOLVER POWERS YOU GUYS ARE FUCKED.

"Killing her, not saving you." it can be both V it's ok

did. did V just call her CYN? DID V JUST CALL HER CYN????

V GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF

oh her tail's got teeth. no nanites though...

ngl N's pretty much the best person who could've possibly shown up at that moment

her wing joints are human arm skeletons. nope. don't like that.

ohh N is just the sweetest. very emotionally aware too

V what are you smiling at. V is there something you want to tell us

i know we were all joking about V x Lizzy but i'm not sure it's a joke anymore

i'm not going to ask how riding the bus like a stagecoach works

V taking blame for the murders? aww you do care <3

is n scared of his connection to uzi? worried that he might be dangerous to her? or is he secretly scared of her but not willing to leave his first real friend?

( i know i've mentioned this three times now but thad's not on the bus. where did he go. did he just decide fuck this i'm not dying here and walk home?)

#murder drones #there's at least one good thing about being sick and not sleeping properly #up in time to catch the premiere!#tldr: V better start coughing up some answers soon before things get REALLY out of hand.#and n is a great friend :D #glasswingtalks

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hhoneyglasss · 1 year

Text

kill bill

notes: i think our favorite vampiric princess is in order for valentine’s season. hope u enjoy.

pov: alexis solaire — first person limited

pairings: past relationship(?) with alexis/sam, present relationship with darlin’/sam

word count: 2.2k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46534081

!! TWs {these begin under the cut} !! unhealthy obsession, physical threats, aggressive language, and graphic imagery. please proceed with caution or do not interact with this work if these topics r triggering for u.

reblogs r v much appreciated!

Time is cruel to those who go against its laws, but it's even crueler to those who follow them.

Time has always been something to rival against—a force that dares test the permanency of the Solaire name. Like all things who attempt the same feat, it is crushed into dust, and Solaire blood reigns victorious once again.

It’s a vicious cycle, but it’s one that’s kept us at the top—crimson crowns spilling red onto those beneath it. It can be ugly, even tragic, but it’s worth it. It’s power—indescribable power.

But it’s a lonely game between us, immortality and I. Eternity is kind to no man, to no creature of the night, and I, a Solaire, am no exception. A night of forever endlessly stretches out in front of me, a path I must travel alone.

Or so I thought.

Sam Collins was something more than the immortal night I was damned to. He was the moon, the stars, that lit up the dark blanket of sky who smothered me in its hold. He was always more than immortality or power—he was alive.

Maybe it was the drumming of his heartbeat in his chest or the way his cheeks flushed rose in the summer sun, but Sam Collins exuded life. He was vitality itself, a man who radiated it whenever he walked into a room. He was the true definition of human.

That’s what drew me to him. His humanity reminded me of the life I had lived so many years ago, those memories now forever captured in this perfect man. A gentleman with a heart of gold, but one who let close to none see it.

I was one of the lucky few.

I was falling—drowning in the river that was him. From his warmth to his touch, he invaded every aspect of my being, and I found myself hooked. Suddenly I saw a brighter future ahead, a future where someone would lead me through the night. I found my own northern star—he was Polaris, and I was the once-lost traveler.

But then his light started to dim. Precession began and suddenly the earth wobbled beneath my feet and Polaris was no more. He laid limp in my arms, fallen from the sky into my lap with a car door lodged in his abdomen. My vision stained red, the moon now blurry, and the future I saw now nothing but a faded fantasy.

I thought of the solution—I found a way to restore the life that had once pulsed through his veins. It’d be different, he’d be different, but he’d still be the same Sam. He’d still be my Sam.

My nails in his skin, his eyes locked on mine, and then my teeth in his throat. I hadn’t ever bitten him before—he said he hadn’t wanted that, so I listened. It was different now, though. He needed this, even when he pushed my hands away and begged me to stop.

My blood then dripped into his mouth, and it was complete. The golden glow of Polaris now shone silver, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. Sam Collins was alive, even if his heartbeat had slowed to an eternal flatline.

He didn’t understand.

One who had once fallen asleep in my arms now refused to even be in the same room. One who used to kiss me good night and walk me home now couldn’t bear to look at me. One whose heart I thought was mine now claimed I was dead to him.

I thought it was a phase. Bloodlust’s bitterness, or whatever you’d wish to call it. I pictured him coming back to me when it was over—that same crooked smile looking down at me, just with canines a little pointier.

But then the days stretched into weeks, then months, and then sooner than I realized, his bloodlust was over and the silent treatment showed no sign of stopping. He continued to avoid me like some foreign plague, but I still watched him, still thinking about the day he’d come running back to me.

The day hasn’t come.

Not yet, anyway.

That first year turned into two, then five, and ten and then fifteen years had gone by without a single look in my direction. Even if our progeny-maker thread had been cut, I could feel his change in breathing whenever I entered the room. The nervousness in it, the tension.

The pure, unbridled fear.

I was now the creature lurking in the shadows, the monster hiding underneath his childhood bed. The leviathan with fangs dripping crimson.

All hope was not lost, though. The moonlight still shone through the end of the tunnel, and I was patient. He would find his forgiveness eventually—Sam Collins is a good man, and good men know how to forgive.

That hope stood strong until I started to see the beginnings of the oncoming dawn.

This dawn made their grand debut at a monthly clan meeting in the shape of a wolf. A damned creation with scars slashed across their skin, beginning right underneath their jaw and wrapping around their arms, torso, and legs.

One of Sam’s flannels wrapped snug around their frame.

I watched them, my knees pressed to my chest as I sat on the stairs. I watched Sam’s hand rest on the small of their back, and I watched the way they leaned into him. I watched the kiss they placed on his cheek in greeting, and I watched the tilted shy smile he gave in return.

I watched all of it. I saw everything.

Ten minutes after my vigil began, Sam left them with a kiss on their forehead to speak with Vincent and William. They now stood alone on the right side of the room, their hands fiddling with the cuff of Sam’s shirt.

They must’ve detected me watching them when their gaze quickly shifted in my direction. I didn’t stop watching—I simply stared back. Their eyes were wide and curious before they crinkled into a small smile.

They waved.

They had no idea who I was.

All they knew was that someone in this wide room of vampires had done something ‘dreadful’ to their mate, something ‘unforgivable’. As far as they knew right now, everyone was innocent—everyone was a smiling face welcoming them into this clan with open arms.

How wrong they were.

I didn’t smile, nor did I wave back. Their smile faded slowly, and they dropped their arm and turned away.

Good. Pathetic chew toys are to be crushed ‘neath a Solaire’s marble heel, not given allowance to make eye contact, let alone smile.

I stood up from my perch on the stairs and walked away. I went past where Vincent, William, and Sam were speaking to one another, and like the past fifteen wretched years, I noticed the muscles in Sam’s arms tense and I saw his fists clench. His back straightened, and he became terrifically still when I walked by.

I paused, then turned to the mutt. Did they notice how Sam had reacted to my presence? Did they see how his posture changed? Did they notice the half-inch that his brows furrowed inward? Did they see it? Did they see him?

When I examined the expression on their face, I knew that they did.

The small smile that had tugged at their soft features had now completely dissipated—their mouth was pressed into a hard, straight line. Their eyes, once liquid sun in the light of the full moon, had frozen solid.

Resentment was in their eyes.

And protectiveness. As expected from a dog.

All wolves are the same—they bark, they bite, and then they die. One by one, they shrivel up and fall. It’s just nature.

I used to feel a sort of sympathy for them, us both being moonbound. I felt a kindred spirit in a way.

Not anymore.

The thing with the mutt was that they would not last. They had a few measly, troubled decades in this world while I had until the end of time.

I had eternity—they had a ticking clock.

There is no room in this world for immature vagabonds with a pension for death. There is no room for wolves who are fatally tied to their own mortality.

They will die eventually, and the Solaire blood will reign victorious. I will wear my crown again.

I went to stand beside the wall, watching once again when Sam made their way back to them. They jumped up to kiss his cheek again. I gagged.

Over the course of the night, I watched them. I saw when they both sat down for the clan meeting to begin. They never stopped touching for the entire night.

I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

If his hand wasn’t against their thigh, then his arm wrapped around their shoulder. If they weren’t leaning against him, then their hand closed over his.

Nauseating, disgusting, vile, obscene—there were a million words in the world to describe the scene playing out before me, but none of them quite held the venom I wanted.

The hour-long meeting seemed to drag on into oblivion until William finally dismissed the clan, a good natured smile warming his eyes as he bid us good night. I got up from my seat and began to stalk towards the door, my coat tucked under my arm.

I didn’t get very far when I heard a voice behind me. “Something tells me that staring at Sam’s partner like a tiger about to pounce isn’t gonna make him hate you less.”

Vincent. I stopped and turned around, but I stayed silent. His arms were crossed over his chest, his glare disapproving as it bore into me.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vincent.”

“Tch,” he huffed, “I’m not stupid. Do you think I am?”

I didn’t answer that.

Vincent continued, “It wasn’t just me who noticed, Alexis. I heard them whispering to Sam about it during the meeting. You’re making them uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care.”

His eyes narrowed. “Fine, then. It’s making Sam uncomfortable.”

“You’re saying that to get me to care about their feelings.”

“And what if I am?” He asked, “He’s the only thing that gets through to you anymore.”

I paused. “…Does it really make him uncomfortable?”

He nodded. Silence fell over us.

He broke it. “So you’ll stop?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll try.”

Silence again.

Vincent leaned on the railing of the stairs. “You need to get over him.”

“I don’t need anything,” I growled.

“Yes, you do,” he countered, “It was different when he was single. You could chase after him all you want—he could handle the staring when it was only directed at him—but it’s not like that anymore.”

I braced myself. I knew what was coming.

“He’s with someone now,” he continued, “They’re mates, Alexis, and you know what?”

“What?” I whispered.

“He’s happy,” he said, “He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Maybe you would’ve noticed the change in him if you weren’t so stuck in your own head all of the time, but he’s content now. He smiles. A lot. And he laughs. A lot. He didn’t do that much before.”

Another pause. I started to curl into myself.

“He loves them, Alexis.”

There it was.

The arrow through the Achilles’ heel, a wooden stake piercing my stone heart. Sunlight burned through my flesh until nothing was left but a pile of unlovable ash, blown away in the winter wind.

I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping my coat until my fingers stabbed through the fabric.

I looked up at Vincent. “Say that again, and your tongue will be shoved so far down your throat you’ll be dead before you hit the floor.”

I didn’t wait for his reaction. I turned on my heel and swept through the meeting room’s double doors, ignoring his angry shouts. They were static now.

I made my way around the building, hoping to find my car before I shattered my keys when I saw the two of them in the parking lot.

The mutt had a bundle of flowers in their arms, the bouquet tied together neatly with a red ribbon. They held a card decorated with hearts in their left hand.

Valentine’s Day. How could I forget?

They gazed with awe at the card and flowers, and the brightest smile lit their adoring features.

I could almost see the stupid fucking halo.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, a gesture he always did when he was bashful.

It was sickening.

I stared at the bouquet.

There were roses in it.

I looked back up at Sam.

I wondered what I could do with those thorns.

My imagination began to run wild. I imagined snatching the roses from their bouquet and sinking the sharp thorns into Sam’s throat, dragging them through his skin while they tore him open. He’d fall to the ground, his hands around his neck, and his wide, too human-like eyes would beg for help. The dog would scream and scream and scream and I’d scream too, relishing in the noise, and my vision would bleed red just like it did fifteen years ago.

They’d call for help, but no one would come. The hours would tick by and the sun would soon rise. I’d watch from the shadows as Sam’s corpse burned to ash instead. He was the forgotten one now.

The asphalt would bleed red too.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted alexis #redacted asmr alexis #redacted audio alexis #redacted sam #redacted asmr sam #redacted audio sam #redacted darlin #redacted asmr darlin #redacted audio darlin #redacted solaire clan #redacted fanfic #honeyglass’s handwritings

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vacantgodling · 6 months

Note

Hey hey! Okay so youre my newest followed writeblr, and i absolutely followed because of a post where you were talking about a WIP, i think you called it teardrops? Anyways, it tore my damn heart out and i DESPERATELY wanna hear more if you wanna talk about it?

FIRSTLY that makes me very very soft thank you so much for following cuz of that story its v special to me (despite talking about a thing i hate personally—the ocean LMAO)

but in this i also realized that i never actually talked about what the plot of teardrops is.... so this is as good an excuse as any.

SO, the full title of this wip is called teardrops of the gods.

it takes place in my big ol shared wip world in this country (doesn't have a name yet tho) & in the western sea <- that way lol

and the plot is as follows:

Ancient Sea Glass or Teardrops of the Gods are relics believed to have been shed by The Great Kraken, essentially the creator of the world in this island's mythos. Its body was split apart to create the land that people stand on and the sea glass is rumored to be the last remnants left of its ancient power. Pirates and adventurers have searched for the sea glass for ages because of its supernatural properties:

(1) If you take out your eye and replace it with sea glass, it allows you to control the whims of other's minds and bodies like puppets.

(2) If you wear as a ring on your hand you can control water and the ocean around you. Cities will crumble under your might.

(3) If you collect 5 and leave them under the light of The Wolf Moon, they will light the way to an underwater city which holds The Kraken's Heart and those who consume it gain immortality.

The location of teardrops themselves is a mystery. Few have solved the legendary riddle that conceals their location:

In the nail of the ocean under the sea Guided by the moon's light Beneath its flesh this bounty lies For those whose eyes are bright Should you manage to sneak beneath And its plunder yours in sight Beware your temples, oh brave sailor Lest you fall down and die

However... there has been one man and his crew that have managed it; the crew of the nefarious and bloodthirsty Captain Ghost Eye; and the key to how he did it lay within his son and our main character QUILL, who he abandoned at 14 to die amid the desert regions of a foreign land unknown. And unbeknownst to Ghost Eye, Quill survived, making it to (insert country here) and laying low, mingling with locals such as Cinnamon (Cinn) and Mz.

.... But the call of the sea is strong. And as Ghost Eye begins plundering down the coast, looking for him, Quill knows that he has to face his destiny.

so as a shorter summary with more details about Quill beloved (with a bit of spoilers):

Quill is a half-merman son of a Daughter of the Sea (a mermaid goddess and daughter of The Great Kraken) and the most fearsome pirate lord on the sea, Ghost Eye. the young goddess was captured and brutalized until she finally produced a child and perished giving birth to him. Quill was then raised by the pirate lord in squalor until at 14 they finally discovered the answer to the sea glass riddle and he was thrown overboard to retrieve the sea glass, or die. The fact that he's part merman is actually integral as to how he was able to snag just One sea glass, however, he had to return to the surface before he could regain more.

At the time, Ghost Eye only desired one sea glass to put in his eye, so he then marooned Quill to die in a desert (no access to water would kill him faster than a normal human) but he was saved when he was found by a caravan and he managed to make his way all the way up to coast where the story starts. unfortunately i haven't named the town or country yet Rip BUT we move. his nature makes him long for the call of the sea but he knows if his father learns that he is alive, he’ll either capture him again or try to kill him, so he ignores his nature for years… at least until finally word of his father's tearing down towns reaches his ears and quill realizes he can't hide anymore.

#s: teardrops #spoilers ig

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exxay · 1 year

Text

CG art for the siracusa event dropped, and I ended up getting a couple theories to my head. And a bunch of them were fucking bangers. Emperor the Rapper with a G u n, Projekt Red and Crownslayer connection, the fucking BIG BLACK WOLF (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3M87kH055o)

The Giant Smoky Red Eyed Wolf is the Signora Sicilia everyone is talking about.

The Signora Sicilia is who Red is talking about when she mentions the "Grandmother".

Crownslayer is related to Signora Sicilia.

Kal'tsit is either friends, enemies, or familialy related with Signora Sicilia, and because of this, took in Projekt Red.

Signora Sicilia is one of the Immortal races, or Feraerus. Or maybe even a Feranmut.

(Crack) The Red Haired Siracusan is related to Chiave, i just KNOW it.

I'm gonna add more to this along the way to the event, but god fucking damn.

Saving this to see if i called any of em right.

#arknights #Il Siracusano #Lady Sicilia #Future Me place your Bets

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suicidalgamergirl · 16 days

Text

Late Night Musings: Sex and The A.Astarion Fan Girl

Taken from my messages for this blog. Enjoy.

Mind been rattling again.

I want to do Ascension Astarion pics, but every time I look for inspiration, it’s all NSFW stuff. And it sucks my violated past can’t draw my OC fucking this vamp.

I wish I wasn’t sheltered from intimacy/learning about sex education.

Just when we’re about to do it, insecurities hit me like a bullet train.

Fuh, regardless of sex with guys and women doing Astarion via screenshots, I feel defeated with my contribution.

I just can’t compete. I feel jelly of how writers and artists do R18+ stuff with ease.

I just feel like a victim. That it was my fault I got molested in hopes to find a new friend.

I like Astarion, because with the tadpole, he’s finally breaks the cycle of being controlled by his master. Yes, he uses sex as a ploy for you to never leave his side. He wants to be protected.

I’m thinking of trying to be a big strong orc character. He’s a baby that needs protection and anyone that dares harm him, I will unleash the wrath of Bhaal on these people.

Though when Astarion ascends, it’s true to his nature. He finally gets everything he wants. He calls you, a treasure.

I love his boastful nature. His finally got his vengeance from Cazador. Everything he got were not by the gods he prayed to.

It was by you. His Dark Consort.

Immortality be damned. But you don’t have to be alone.

-V

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #I want to protect him like people protect their puppies #my mind is nuts #trigger warning: sa

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barakittens517 · 2 years

Text

PT IV: The Discovering

Summary: In which Morpheus is socially clumsy and Ellis is morally gray.

PT III: The Reunion PT V: The Reckoning

Warnings: mentions of violence, brief (slightly graphic) character deaths- the end of the cereal convention

Words: 2,253

Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral reader

Notes: A short blurb before things really pick up (:

Tag List: @ponyboys-sunsets, @i-am-not-a-raccoon-anymore

The Corinthian was perhaps your last chance to understand all of this Dreaming mess. If you truly did come from the Dreaming, and Morpheus believes you to have escaped, you will meet the same fate as the nightmare.

The Dream Lord turns to address the crowd, and notices you standing, frankly out of breath, in the doorway. You run.

There’s nowhere to go, but you run anyway. Forget the agony of living immortally, forget the curse of harming everyone you look at, you don’t want your existence to end as a pile of sand. You don’t want to confirm every awful thought you’ve had in passing- that you never meant anything here.

You sprint to the parking lot and look around wildly for a way out of this damned place. You crouch behind the Corinthian’s convertible and attempt to catch your breath. Within minutes, you hear footsteps all around as a steady stream of serial killers walk slowly to their vehicles.

There’s no way Morpheus would just let them go. Not if he knew what they were- and there’s no doubt, if he heard any of the Corinthian’s speech, that he knows what they are.

It only takes a minute before the first gunshot is fired. You sink to the concrete as brain tissue splatters the window in front of you.

You hear Dark Angel speaking with a 9-1-1 operator, explaining in gruesome detail the crimes she has committed.

You cover your ears with your hands as tears stream down your face. All of this has been a fucking nightmare, and you’re awake.

You know the cops will come soon. Dark Angel is not the only one to have called them. Whoever isn’t dead will spend their life in prison. And you cannot be one of them.

You wipe the tears dripping off of your chin and try to collect yourself. You need to think clearly to get out of this. You left your bag in the auditorium, and you need it. You peer over the top of the car door. The lobby looks clear from here. You’re assuming Morpheus won’t stick around, not if he still needs to deal with the vortex.

That poor girl. She didn’t ask to exist, either. Gods only know what will happen to the brother she leaves behind if Morpheus kills her. On the other hand, if she kills him… you may finally be free.

Whatever that means.

You walk into the lobby again, this time empty. There aren’t even hotel staff waiting at the front desk. Your backpack is sitting on a chair in the back of the auditorium, right where you left it. The place is like a ghost town now, eerie and empty.

“You did not get very far,” Morpheus’ voice resounds from the stage. His words send a shiver of terror down your spine.

You don’t respond, but you know there’s no use trying to get away this time. Outrunning Nimrod was one thing, but the God of Dreams?

He’s standing next to you in an instant, and your heart jumps to your throat. He’s close enough now, you can see the galaxies whirling in the lining of his coat. You refuse to look him in the eyes.

“You are one of my own,” he says, “but I do not know you.”

Ouch.

“My name is Ellis,” you say quietly. You know that your name doesn’t matter. You’re just praying it all ends quickly. “That’s all I know.”

Morpheus nods, but it doesn’t change the stony expression on his face. How could he forget his own creation? “I regret there is no time to discuss… this.” He pauses. “But you belong in the Dreaming, and that is where you shall go.”

You are… crushed. You almost wish he would have just killed you then. You had thought, for a time, that your life had no meaning. And as stupid as it was, you had a glimpse of hope when the Corinthian had mentioned a Creator- someone who would know you, know your purpose.

And now that you’ve met him face to face, you’re met with the harshest disappointment in over a century.

“I don’t know where that is,” you say. Just kill me, you want to scream. It’s not like it matters.

Morpheus raises an eyebrow but chooses not to comment. “I will find someone to accompany you, then. I believe Matthew should be here in a moment.”

You stare down at the carpet beneath your feet, willing the tears in your eyes to go away. You have never felt this much shame, so much embarrassment just for existing the way that you do.

“Boss, I know you’re not gonna believe it, but guess who I found,” a voice from just above you says. You look up to see a raven circling the room before landing on the back of the chair between you and Morpheus.

“I’m sorry, what?” you ask- granted, a talking bird is not the weirdest thing you have witnessed in the past couple of days.

The raven cocks its head to one side. “Who’s this?” he asks.

Morpheus takes a moment, and you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “One of my creations, Matthew. They belong in the Dreaming, if you’ll kindly take them back. Who have you found?”

Matthew caws proudly. “Fiddler’s Green, sir. He was with Lucienne. He wanted to talk to you, personally.”

“Where is he now?” Morpheus asks.

“Right here, my lord.” Fiddler’s Green appears in the doorway. The Dutch Uncle. You choose to take a seat before your legs collapse underneath you. “Hello, dear,” he says to you.

“Hi.”

Morpheus is visibly perplexed. “Fiddler’s Green, I do not have time for whatever this is. I need to find Rose Walker before the vortex gets any stronger.”

“My lord, please, if you would hear me for just one moment. Take me, instead of Miss Walker. If anything, I deserve it. I left the Dreaming, lord, and I understand there are consequences. All I ask is that you spare the girl,” Fiddler’s Green says.

Morpheus shakes his head. “It is regrettable, but that is something I cannot do. The vortex must be destroyed. You are not a vortex, Fiddler’s Green. I cannot spare the girl. But you may return to the Dreaming.”

The old man tears up, but nods. “Yes, my lord. Thank you.”

“Take this one-” Morpheus points to you- “with you, please. Matthew, come with me.” The Dream Lord and his raven disappear in a whirlwind of sand.

Does he not even remember your name?

“Well, dear, we must be off, then,” Fiddler’s Green says. You follow him out without a word.

You don’t even remember how you get to the Dreaming. One moment you’re in the parking lot, and the next, you’re standing before the ivory gates from your dream. The doors open for Fiddler’s Green easily, and you follow him on a path leading to a castle.

He pauses before you reach the entryway. “I apologize, my dear, but I must leave you with Lucienne. I need to return to my place here. But Lucienne will be able to help you. She’s been with Lord Morpheus since the beginning. And good luck.” He pats you on the shoulder kindly before leaving.

You head into the castle alone and discover a giant, empty throne room. Parts of the walls and the staircase leading to the throne are crumbling, but you can tell even now that it was once a sight to behold. It still is.

“And who are you?” a woman’s voice echoes from the stairs.

“Ellis,” you answer cautiously. “I, uh… Morpheus sent me here.”

The woman takes a moment to consider your answer. “Hello, Ellis. My name is Lucienne. I’m curious- why did the Dream Lord send you here? Are you a dream returning, then?”

You shrug. “He said that this is where I came from, but he didn’t recognize me. Don’t really know what that means.” You try to sound light-hearted about it. More oops, what a fun mistake instead of oh my god what the fuck am I.

Lucienne frowns. “That’s… odd. Lots of odd things going around recently, now that he’s back. I’ll, uh… I’ll have a look in the library.” She’s turned and disappeared down a corridor before you can even ask what she’s going to look for.

You follow her to the castle library, mesmerized by the rows of books that seem to go on forever. Lucienne walks with purpose, all the way down until she turns a corner and disappears.

You have the option to run, to chase her down before she gets too far. But you’re more intrigued by the books, with authors you’ve never heard of and titles that practically glow in gold and iridescence.

This is not your average public library.

You peek once more down the rows- Lucienne is nowhere to be found. You wander down the first couple of rows, stopping to inspect a few works by the classics; Shakespeare’s A Midwinter Day’s Hallucination and Jane Austen’s Shame & Neutrality confirm this is most infinitely not a normal place.

And as much as you’d love to read the stories that never made it to the waking world, you’re drawn to the forgotten shelves in a darkened corner of the room. Judging by the amount of dust- and the cobweb you just straight up walked through- it hasn’t been visited in a very long time.

They’re not the leather-bound, glowing titles you’ve seen. They’re black, hardcover books. No labels. The first one you open reveals a weathered stack of notes scribbled in cursive with ink blotches galore. It’s almost impossible to decipher.

The second book is filled with sketches, rather than text. A few of the images are labeled, and some have been scratched out completely. You sift through the pages, and after a moment find a sketch that looks familiar- a face, grinning, and rows of teeth filling the space where eyes should be.

Revelation Corinthian..? Is scratched in cursive underneath. There are rough sketches all over the page, detailing various kinds of teeth, as well as a final draft on the next page. It looks exactly like Rin, the night you met him at the bar.

These must be something like blueprints, then. Which means Morpheus could create the Corinthian again. A better version, one that maybe isn’t into serially killing humans.

You flip a couple more pages and come to a detailed sketch of the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen. Flowers dot the grass, and trees perfect for climbing adorn the rolling hills.

Fiddler’s Green, Morpheus has written at the bottom. Your mind flashes to The Dutch Uncle- he had manifested as human, but he was a place. You wish you knew where he had gone. Morpheus’ drawing, if accurate, makes it look like heaven.

You flip through a few more of the pages, mostly rough sketches and ideas scribbled in the columns. You have to stop, though, when you hear Lucienne speaking with someone.

You can’t hear everything you’re saying, and you’re also distracted by the page that you’ve turned to. At one point or another, Morpheus had tried to create a companion. A soulmate. It’s obvious he didn’t get very far, but they’re beautiful.

Morpheus had sketched what you assume are lilies in the columns- fleur de lis in cursive underneath the largest bouquet. You’re surprised the Dream Lord would want to create a companion. You’ve never seen him with anyone else, aside from the raven Matthew.

Your ears perk up at the sound of Lucienne’s voice. “... No record of them in the Dreaming.”

“... Checked the census…?” You can barely pick out Morpheus’ question.

“Yes… If they are returning- like Fiddler’s… a record somewhere showing... I don’t understand…” Lucienne answers.

“Rose Walker… gone... They are not… of the vortex,” Morpheus adds.

Your heart sinks. The more you learn, the more you’re convinced you really are a mistake. You can hear the Dream Lord dismiss Lucienne, and you know they’re going to be looking for you. If the vortex has been resolved, Morpheus will be coming for the rest of his wayward creations. You shudder at the thought of the Corinthian’s fate.

On a whim, you tuck the hardcover book into your bag. You shrink down into the corner of the shelves and watch as Lucienne leaves the library. The door creaks loudly on the way out. You hold your breath, unsure of where exactly the Dream Lord ended up. Gods forbid he finds you eavesdropping, of all things.

You can hear footsteps, coming closer to your long-abandoned section of the library. You try to time your steps with his, at least enough that you can make it to the door without arousing suspicion. It still creaks as you open it agonizingly slowly, but assume Morpheus is too preoccupied to think much of it.

And you’re right. He’s crouched down to run his fingers along the dusty, hardcover books filled with his own creations. They aren’t labeled, but he knows each of them, almost all by heart. And just as the library door creaks, and you awkwardly slide through a gap in the doorway, his eyes fall upon an empty space.

He probably would not have noticed, perhaps if Lucienne had dusted more, or if you had let the books fall upon one another at an angle. He thinks for a moment- who would be so foolish as to steal from the Lord of Dreams?

You.

PT V: The Reckoning

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream x gn! reader #the corinthian #netflix sandman

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theadventurerslog · 1 month

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The Curse of Monkey Island | Part 10

It's time, it's time, it's finale time. With diamond in hand I was finally able to complete a whopping big uncursed diamond ring.

I went back to Elaine to place the ring on her finger and break this curse at last.

Of course, if you might recall, she was winding up to punch Guybrush before the curse took hold and there was no stopping that.

I was debating whether to use this shot because I happened catch it at an awful frame, but I decided if I had to see it, I get to inflict it on you.

He was much more concerned about Elaine though.

Elaine, was understandably very confused, but Guybrush quickly explained she'd been cursed and he fixed it. Everything was going to be fine.

Just fiiiine.

Or not because LeChuck's undead army showed up and so we start Part V.

Kiss of the Spider Monkey.

This part is basically pure exposition. When we come back, Elaine is tied up and Guybrush is locked in a tram sort of cage thingy while LeChuck is ready and waiting to gloat.

We're back. Back to the Carnival of the Damned.

Where Guybrush escaped from in the first place after his failure to find Big Whoop in the previous game.

Big Whoop, as it turns out, is actually a portal to the demon nether world, and LeChuck plans to send Elaine through it to be granted immortality. By being undead, but I mean I guess that's one form. Sure, Elaine might hate him for it, but she'll come to understand the great gift of it all and the dating pool is remarkably small for the undead.

Sure, LeChuck, sure. No Minnie Goodsoup and Charles DeGoulash here.

Anyway, from this point on LeChuck is eager to talk and you can ask him about several things.

So the theme park: sailors are clearly looking for a family-oriented theme park after months at sea. So, they come here and ride the Great Monkey Mountain rollercoaster from the highest peak down into the lava providing a great supply of undead for his army. Fun and resourceful!

There are also more details about how it's run--dynamo monkelectrics. It's monkey powered. Ruthlessly trained monkeys are down in the depths of the place bound to machines of destruction and family entertainment.

And then there's a great deal about how LeChuck got the map to Big Whoop and what he did to Captain Marley--Elaine's grandfather--and his crew who originally found it, all relating back to the first two games, especially the second. But basically in retrieving each of the four pieces of the map that they'd torn up, he killed or destroyed them in various unpleasant ways.

You can also argue about who Elaine loves. Very eloquent. Does so love me. Does not. Does so, does not. Etc. They're very mature.

And you can have enough of his stories and vileness and stop listening.

Well, LeChuck had enough of his childishness (Like you're any better, LeChuck?) and came up with a fate befitting Guybrush's behaviour.

LeChuck and Elaine vanish. Guybrush seemingly does, but you still hear him and still have control. The door was unlocked so out I sent him.

La la la it's Guybrush the kid.

He walks off to another part of the theme park and knows he needs to rescue Elaine but it's hard to think. Head...foggy. He needs to clear his head.

It was time to get down to business. I didn't have a whole lot of my inventory left anymore, down to a little less than one screen's worth.

Though Murray's pasty arm remained.

Most of my stuff wasn't going to be useful except: the recipe book for a reminder of the Head-B-Clear recipe, after all he needs a clear head now, so that's what we gotta make, and the pan and the shaving cream--those will be useful.

I needed three ingredients: egg, the hair of the dog that bit ya, and pepper. Two of those could be found on this screen.

I also had people to talk to here: Dinghy Dog, Wharf Rat and... Murray on the shelf!

Naturally, I spoke with Murray first. "Are you dead yet? You look different."

He was pleased to find out Guybrush was also cursed too; they could join their cursed forces and rule the world together. Turned down again, sadly, I mean fortunately. He was still grossed out by his pasted up arm too.

Dinghy Dog runs a guessing game to guess the weight or age of the kid playing. If he can't guess one of them the player gets a prize. The weight option fails because he can guess that correctly.

Age however, we had a little advantage. He guessed "a fearsome little buccaneer" like him must be seven years old. Which of course is not correct and Guybrush was able to prove it with his SCUMM Actors Guild Membership Card. So I was able to pick a prize. Murray so wanted to be picked. I even tried--I always do--but Guybrush realized that would be a bad idea and Murray will just keep chattering while and demanding and pleading to be picked while you look at other prizes.

The only option that can be taken is an anchor. Murray was very offended by that and sulks for a while with more comments until going quiet. I'm sorry, Murray. I'd have taken you in a heartbeat if it let me.

Then I had a chat with Wharf Rat who runs "Blow the Man Down." A lemon meringue pie is fired from the cannon at the guy in the window. You can ask what meringue is and get told it's whipped from egg whites or something. And he grumbles about Dinghy Dog: "I'm not allowed to associate with His Highness The Great and Mighty Dinghy Dog" and also gives a clue about not messing him or regretting it.

So of course I was gonna mess with Dinghy Dog by continually prodding him until he lost patience and bit Guybrush.

And Guybrush snagged some hair off his suit. One ingredient down.

As for the egg, I needed a way to get one of the pies and the Wharf Rat wouldn't just let me take one.

So, I needed to get rid of the guy who was the target for the cannon. I filled my pie plate with the shaving cream and stuck the anchor in there and then added the whole thing to the pie stack. In the easier mode you can just add the anchor to the pie stack.

Then ask the Wharf Rat to fire the cannon and threaten him with the prospect of LeChuck finding out he's got unhappy kids running around here and that got him.

The poor window guy got knocked right out.

But that left the place empty for Guybrush to go in and taunt the Wharf Rat until he fired a pie at me too.

Egg acquired.

I just needed the pepper which is in the next screen where there's a guy selling snowcones. All manner of flavours of snowcones.

The list goes on for an impressive length with a lot of rhyming. I kiiind of wish I had it memorized just for kicks. It can be quite rhythmic!

He also had a pepper shaker on the counter which I could simply grab.

I ordered a regular snowcone and added all the ingredients on top of it. Delicious... It made a disgusting snowcone, but eating it, I'm sorry Guybrush, worked and he was restored to his clear-headed adult self.

Which brought me to the sixth and final part of the game.

Guybrush Kicks Butt Once Again.

This final part takes place on the roller coaster. It passes by four different diorama areas, 3 of which are based on past events of the series. You have a chance to hop out of the coaster to look around each one and get needed items. Periodically LeChuck will show up and there's a brief bit of conversation before he winds up with some fire to shoot at you and Guybrush leaps back into the passing coaster.

Through those bits of conversation, you find out Elaine got away and must have fiddled with the controls, and therefore the coaster keeps circling instead of plunging Guybrush into the lava stream. Go Elaine go.

So sections:

Monkey Island:

A little diorama of Herman Toothrot, the hung first mate, and the three-headed monkey. This is, of course, from The Secret of Monkey Island. A piece of rope can be grabbed here.

Captain Marley, his crew and their ship.

This was also one of the times I ran into LeChuck. Or he ran into me. Before that I was able to snag a keg of rum and do a little examining of things.

LeChuck's torture chamber in reference to Monkey Island 2.

Guybrush thought there was an animatronic Wally, only to realize it really is Wally. The poor guy really can't catch a break, but Guybrush apologized for leaving him to blow up in LeChuck's castle last time, and he promises this time he'll come back for him. As soon he defeats LeChuck, saves Elaine, sets all the monkeys free... and rides the Madly Rotating Buccaneer anyway.

I was also able to flip open the lantern and grab some oil.

And finally a snowy area, featuring a path leading up to "every sailor's worst nightmare. The 'Giant, Snowy Ape.'

This is the spot I ultimately needed, specifically for the Snowy Ape's arm that forms a perfect holding spot.

I had to set a trap for LeChuck. Use oil on the rope and attach the rope to the keg of rum. Put the whole thing in the Ape's arm and the oil-soaked rope would dangle down to the lower area. Then I had to wait around for LeChuck who always feels like he takes longer to show up when I actually want him.

I remember getting kind of stuck in this part the first time and needing a bit of a nudge from dad.

But while he's winding up his fire launching, blow some pepper at him to make him sneeze. Sneezey fire plus oiled rope is a fun combination featuring a burst of excitement!

Guybrush got out of there. LeChuck was less lucky.

Kaboom.

And what's a theme park without fireworks?

And LeChuck is defeated. Again. Eat explosion, demon zombie pirate.

Then we fade out to Guybrush and Elaine, newly married and setting sail.

Kind of love the suit look for Guybrush I have to admit. Okay, it's the long tail coat. I like 'em long.

Sail away, waved off by my former crew, a chicken and Lemonhead. The crew may have mutinied but it's nice they remain friendly. Or maybe they're glad to see him gone... I'll go with friendly.

And of course there's a final word from Murray:

He SHALL RETURN. (and spoiler alert: he does.)

Then credits with a bit more grumping from Murray at the start.

And finally a last scene sometime in the future with narration from a kid and his dad enjoying the theme park, but his dad tells of a story of the man who built this place being buried here and it's said his frozen body remains somewhere in the tunnels beneath the amusement park. Then it ends with a brief ominous bit of LeChuck's theme.

The End.

Happy end. Ominous end. Gotta leave room for more!

Final Words

This would normally be a final thoughts area, but I've played the game before. Many, many, times.

I will say, this last chunk of game--part 5 and 6--are my least favourite of the game. It's not that I dislike them or anything so extreme, but once I hit the point where I'm ready to uncurse Elaine I always feel a bit of a letdown after everything else. They had run into budget issues and such by the end and some stuff got cut and I feel like that can be felt. I've always thought the ending itself felt pretty abrupt too, but honestly I feel that for most of the series.

That aside, it's just such a comfort food game. I didn't remember to try as much or go for lesser used conversation options as much as I originally intended, so maybe, just maybe there are still a few tidbits of newness or much less familiar bits in there somewhere...for the inevitable future play.

Thank you for reading! If this was your first experience with the game... maybe not the best first go--go play it! If you've played it before, replay it! Play it!

I hope you enjoyed even with the gaps, or if you're someone in the future reading this I hope you enjoyed, gap-free!

Farewell for now Guybrush.

#monkey island #the curse of monkey island #CMI #CMI_Log #adventure games #LucasArts

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yonemurishiroku · 2 years

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Hii again! thx for aswering my Nico death question ( cant wait to read more ^v^ ) but can you expand on ur " Thanatos Reaper" headcanon? :3

Answer this before the exams come and i got disconnected to the fantasy world (which is the synonym for losing the internet connection 🤷‍♀️)!!!

Thank you for the ask, friend, for I have been waiting to torture every follower of mine with tons of unfathomable things I have come up with about Nico’s profession once he started working for his father under Thanatos’ guidance because i’m a sucker for powerful deity Nico. Everyday. Actually no that’s a lie, with or without your ask i’m just gonna ramble about it whenever i can anyway .

Since you ask specifically about Nico as a soul reaper like Thanatos, we’ll skip the Ambassador part and move on to reaper part, then. First, let’s start with how he becomes a reaper.

Well, obviously nine out of ten things i come up with starts with either 1/ Nico dies or 2/ Nico leaves both Camps. The first circumstance varies from Nico’s soul is damaged and Hades saves him by turning him into an immortal being, which is - a psychopomp (why, you aks? Because i said so. That’s why.); Nico dies after the war and Hades forged his soul into another being;… The second background is just pretty much Nico moves to the Underworld by choice.

Actually, as long as Nico is distanced from the mortal world in general or the normal demigods specifically, I can make him an immortal being and godly deity just because I can.

And what’s best for a fighter to do in this hellhole of a kingdom? Capturing and punishing. That’s what. So, Nico starts working as Thanatos’ lieutenant. The guy is overworked anyway.

And this is where things become a little different.

If Nico is still a living being

Which is when he doesn’t die, but leaves the camps and fully commits to his Underworld duties anyway. In conclusion: he’s still half-mortal, with a physical body and less… disintegration (? Ok just pretend i didn’t say anything).

When I picture this Nico, it’s pretty much like a ghost hunter. While Thanatos focuses on his mission of guiding the deceased, Nico specializes in capturing vicious ghosts, vengeful spirits, and occasionally fighting the manifesting-type monsters such as the eidolons.

I’m not sure if it’s called ‘soul reaping’, but it’s like,,, Thanatos guides the souls, whereas Nico captures those that have lost in the dark.

Hades or Thanatos give him specific orders when the need arises and they deem urgent actions needed. Nico’s the most mobile and quick-reacting force to be sent away to deal with emergencies.

He can feel the psychic energy the corrupted emit, thus able to locate and track them down easily. And because i said so, the pomegranate seeds of the underworld render him needless of mortal supplies, thus he can follow a spirit for days.

He does exorcism!!! Nico can feel when one’s engulfed in enough negative energy for it to turns evil, so there’s a chance he can cleanse those with the right spell and manipulation.

Half of the times Nico finishes with one more spirit trapped in his sword or sent to Tartarus, another half he ends up having to deal with a bunch of mortals who think they know what they’re doing. Yes, he gives punishment to those who disrespect the dead.

The Hecate messed with some spell beyond their ability and that’s one of the rare times Nico return to Camp Half-blood. He didn’t punish them, ofc, just a little warning about a displeased Hades and an overworking Thanatos (and Nico himself, yeah).

Hades gives Nico new weapons!!! They vary from tiny knives designed like hair clips or this special ring with an embedded spell that can be set up as a trap for un-living things.

His sword scares off the damned and sucks their souls, storing it inside the metal and releasing it when Nico needs.

Nico doesn’t have wings, but this laurel wreath Zagreus gifted him reduces the physical burden shadow-traveling puts on his body, thus boost its efficiency. It also includes a protection spell that prevents Nico from being manifested by every kind of spirit or monster.

Nico fights with Melinoe all the time. Just because she keeps asking to keep the ferocious ghosts and Nico has to remind her just “Dad doesn’t allow that, and you always come up with horrible things with these!!!”

If Nico became a psychopomp through revival/ soul modification

Which is a general description for Nico dies/ nearly dies and comes back as a psychopomp. Which means he technically transcended. Which means he isn’t half-mortal anymore and more of a deity now.

And where does that leave him, you ask? Perching at your windowsill, swift as a feather and graceful like an angel, a soft smile luring you to the after life. That’s where.

Ok that sounds like my writer personality is corrupting me again. Huh. Anyways.

When I say it like that ^^^ I mean that this Nico has been completely striped of his mortality and everything that comes with it. He exists like something walking out from a myth. Ethereal. Surreal. Unknown of. Yet gentle and beautiful enough that you cannot resist coming to him.

Hades doesn’t order him to do anything, really. How could he do that to the son he loves so much to the point of breaking the laws only to keep him in this world? Hades can’t, so he lets Nico roam free on the surface, hoping that the boy can have a chance to see the world he was too blinded to see, despite being unable to be join.

Nico was aware that he has the power to guide the souls. He just didn’t find any interest in doing that, since being a psychopomp wasn’t his choice in the first place. It was only until he saw the miserable faces on those Thanatos brought, did he felt something bubbling in his chest.

It was Thanatos, too, who answered him when he asked about those people. The god was patient and generous when it comes to his job. Nico asked and he told him about the tragedies, the accidents, mistakes and misfortunes alike. Tears of the living and wishes of the dead. And Nico saw himself in them.

Deaths painted by sadness and lost. And many more.

So when Thanatos didn’t deny his help, Nico learns the way to ease the pains.

He comes to those who’re suffering. Who are crying and wailing in silence. Whose heart is bleeding and mind is shattering. He gives them relief. Cleansing their souls and freeing them of the shackles so that their passing can remain clear and bright. A peaceful death.

Wow he seems like a therapist. Eh.

He has wings. A pair of pure black raven wings, courtesy of Thanatos. Though he doesn’t technically use them to fly, they enable him to travel across the sky, through the land of dreams and sea of minds - to every place need be. Nico is everywhere - as long as there’s someone lost.

And when he soundlessly lands on your windowsill, the sunlight dims away and shadows cling to those feathers on his back, drawing the air into a wistful picture. You hear your silent cries die out, and the pains in your heart boils and melts like butter upon his clear, cold onyx gaze.

Nico walks in your nightmares, wings shielding you from the horrors and a black sword tearing down your monsters. His darkness cuddles you to sleep, protecting you from the heavy darkness you’ve made.

He leaves black feathers wherever he goes. You wake up from a nightmare and see one on your pillow. Even when Nico’s simply walking through a forest with his wings sealed away, feathers just seemingly appear from thin air, tracing his footsteps.

They glow. Bright purple in the dark, leading you to him.

He sees your soul. Every fear from which you try to run away. All secrets lay bare. A touch of his feather sends your entire being drowning. Nico can reach your deepest depths.

When the time comes, he holds your hands and takes off. The wings flap once, then you open your eyes to see the Underworld welcoming you. The trip feels like nothing, almost like a feather touch. Death feels just like a restful sleep when Nico’s there.

I think that’s everything I can say. :3 It’s not everything I want to say, ofc, since I would probably come up with more later. But as of now, we’d have to settle with this. (´･ω･`) Hope this is enough to give your a closer look into my fantasy land of deity Nico, though. 👀👀👀 Because i’d be nothing if not a sucker for an ethereal, godly, beautiful Nico. (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

As always, thank you for the ask, a chance for my rambling, really. 🤷‍♀️ God bless your soul, i’m brimming with tears of passion.

Have a nice day. Luv ya. 💕💕💕

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kafkaoftherubbles · 8 months

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白银发的超人类（然后与《致不灭的你》挂钩）// Silver-White Haired Human Alien (Plus a tangent to two TYE characters)

I got recommended a really interesting video this morning! It's about 18 minutes and 30 seconds long:

youtube

I recommend watching it just to add to the view count (and leave a comment as a sign of engagement to the discussion!), but for the purpose of my musing, I did jot down some notes.

Generally, white hair symbolizes:

purity

wisdom, which can easily be related to

divinity, which then easily relates to

power, in both senses of the word. "Strength, including the supernatural kind", and "rulership".

What white hair symbolizes, as a whole, is exceptionalism.

These characters are human and relatable, and yet they are also alien and "abnormal" in other important ways. There are broadly two kinds of exceptionalism:

Group exceptionalism - where it's an entire tribe, race, species etc. that possesses white hair

Individual exceptionalism - well... whatever it says on the can.

The kind of character tropes that may be represented by this hair color are:

divine right and rulership - basically, some sort of prince or princess and rulers. Related to the idea that a being that is divine and above is more "fit to rule."

powerful mentors

prodigies

a character bearing a heavy burden or sometimes, sickness; but they are also stoic and strongly soldiering through

hybrid - a character that straddles between two powers, factions, tribes, races, or even concepts (nature v. science), etc.

an enigma - a character meant to represent mysteries

Fushi's white-hairedness fits a lot of these ideas so much that many of their granular qualities can be predicted through this framework completely.

But there is a twist. That default "white-haired young boy" look that fits them to a tee... was not their form to begin with.

It belonged to an ordinary boy, who was only exceptional by elimination—when you're "the last person" of an entire community, you're exceptional just because you have no competitors. In many ways, there was nothing exceptional, wise, divine, or powerful about the Nameless Boy. There was nothing alien about him, either. He was so nondescript that he wasn't even named in the story. His fucking wolf had a name. He himself would have died a nobody if he never met the immortal.

----

Show of hands. How many To Your Eternity readers/anime watchers started out thinking the Nameless white-haired human was the main character we will follow throughout the story? I know I did. I fully expected it. And then he fucking died. And then the alien ball-rock-moss-wolf took his form.

I find it interesting that the Nameless Boy's form fit so many of these classic white-haired tropes and ideas, yet he himself was pretty damn close to a nobody (perhaps more fittingly would be Virginia Woolf's term: he's "Mrs. Brown."). Again, he was so mortal that he succumbed to sickness, despair, and death, having lost out against an indifferent universe. It was only after Fushi took his form that all of these "expectations" of the white-haired character are played straight:

Fushi's purity was touched on in the story by the Guardians. Their specific narrative was that they guard against anyone or anything attempting to poison his purity.

Fushi's wisdom is cumulative and slow, and I'm sure both readers and in-story characters will doubt if they could be considered wise. Nonetheless, even if they hadn't yet reached that threshold, Fushi is undeniably actively learning about life and grappling with all its thorns. Surely one can recognize this, itself, is already a process leading to wisdom.

Lastly, Fushi's divinity and power are pretty much self-evident, considering what they are.

In a meta sense, the Nameless Boy was Fushi's most fitting form just because the former possesses literary connotations and tropes the latter genuinely possesses. Fushi fits the literal "Human Alien" concept, in that:

the human is descriptive; the alien, the subject. This is an alien that nonetheless takes on human qualities, and does so gradually.

(I wonder if Oima planned her main character right down to these mind-boggling details).

They are an exceptional being, spawned from an exceptional (albeit formless) species, becoming an exceptional individual. They are to be a sort of divine shepherd of the Earth; a hybrid of lives and concepts; an enigma to the very world they are to care for. They might even be a mentor, albeit an accidental one, to the Nokkers in terms of interacting with physical beings. They're saddled with the burden of immortality and the Beholder's plans for them so much that they hunched their shoulders frequently.

-----

And yet NONE of these apply to the original owner of that form in the slightest.

This flows into interesting hypotheses.

If everything was created by the Beholder (barring natural reproduction, I guess, because does he really look like someone who would care which sperm and ovum combine every time unprotected sex occurred? Not just humans have sex, you know), could the Nameless Boy had been created by him for Fushi?

If the Nameless Boy was not created specifically for the Beholder's experiment, could he have dropped Fushi in an area close to where the Nameless Boy would be one day so that the first human—and beginning of the orb's humanity—Fushi acquired are from this form that fit its traits perfectly, especially meta-wise?

Could any of this come to the fore in the final arc of this story?

And! Though the Nameless Boy was dead since the first chapter... In a meta sense, could the shadow of this story be about the "Nameless Boy" gaining all the qualities his "form" traditionally signifies? (Note: The "white hair exceptionalism" trope is not exclusive to Western literature. It is also found in other cultures, like Chinese.) This would also play into, DING DING DING, the Buddhist philosophical idea of the skandha ("aggregates") informing a being's qualities; given that TYE has already shown quite a surprising amount of Buddhist thoughts, I wouldn't put this as too wild.

Again, will this play into the finale of the story?

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Let me close this essay with a poetry left on Bilibili, on the first episode of TYE, by 弼马温侯 (translation by me):

“请你…永远记住我…” 你的陪伴与愿望，赐予了我初成灵智的点点火光；我以此身铭记你的模样，前往那茫茫的彼方；此后路上的欢乐与向往、迷茫与彷徨，皆是为了奔赴心中的那所乐园——那个你曾向我诉说的梦想。

"Please... remember me forever..." Your companionship and your wish—they granted me my first sparks of sapience; With this body I remember your form before advancing into the unknown. All my joy and hopes, all the confusion and loss... I will gain them all because I am heading to that paradise— The very one you once told me, the one from your dream."

Thank you for reading my ramble.

#I've said it before; there is not a shred of originality in me #all I'm good at is mix-matching ideas and thoughts I came across because of my voracious curiosity #hence essays inspired by someone's work like this one are pretty standard of me hahaha #I wouldn't have come up with these thoughts if not for the original creator of the video first and foremost; so please support the video!#happy to your eternity tuesday/wednesday!#fumetsu no anata e #to your eternity #to you the immortal #fnae #tye #Youtube

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