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#BUT i was already halfway through the comic when they said that and it was too late to change it. sorry brennan.
slu7formen · 3 days
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Could we have a part 2 of friend Luke teasing us?? help im so addicted rereading that so many timesssss
(smut or more flirting? your choice love—)
ITS JUST SO GOOD
SORRY FOR THE WAIT, this request was asked more than once so here it is. Also, I´m so glad you liked the previous part so much you re-read it <3 🥺, tysm
previous part (if u want)
MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: luke´s a fucking tease, again, pet names, semi-public s3x, alcohol mention, kissing, biting, sucking, unprotected p in v (don´t), dom!luke, rough s3x.
reminder: english´s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
₊˚⊹♡
"I'm going for a walk. Care to join me?" you asked, swaying on your feet. Your voice wobbled slightly, but it held.
Luke's amusement was evident in the quirk of his eyebrow. "A walk, huh?" he drawled, his gaze lingering on the way your lips, still tingling from the fiery drink, were slightly parted. "Too drunk already?” he teases.
You roll your eyes with a groan from your throat. “Are you coming or not?” you cross your arms over your chest, the movement slightly comical given your unsteady stance, but your breasts crushed so deliciously when you did so, tightening the fabric of your t-shirt, that Luke couldn´t help but dart his eyes down there for a second.
A slow smile spread across his face, the kind that sent a delicious yet cold shiver down your spine. "Alright" he sighed, rising smoothly to his feet, even when his system was filled with the strongest drink he found himself drinking on a few minutes ago. “Lead the way then, princess”
You set off through the trees, the path illuminated only by the sliver of moon peeking through the tree cups and the distant glow of the bonfire, less and less intense the further you hid in the shadows. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sounded amplified in the quiet night. You could practically feel the weight of Luke's gaze on your back. His eyes roamed down your body from behing, eyes falling to the way your hips swayed so effortlessly as you walked, that fucking jean skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. You weren't sure if you were leading him, or if he was leading you, both of you drawn by a force far stronger than reason.
After what felt like an dense and heavy eternity, you reached a clearing bathed in moonlight. A large oak tree stood in the center, its branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. You stopped, a nervous flutter in your stomach.
"Nice spot" Luke said, his voice a husky murmur behind you.
You turned to face him, his dark form silhouetted against the moonlit clearing. "It is, right?" you agreed, your voice barely a whisper.
As if on cue, the music from the bonfire faded completely, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The world seemed to shrink until all that existed was the space between you and Luke.
He took a slow and confident step towards you when your eyes kept looking at him, and you met him halfway, the space between you shrinking with each step. The playful teasing from earlier was gone, replaced by a simmering intensity in his dark eyes. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm touch, cold sweat forming on your palms. This wasn't how you'd imagined spending your night, but suddenly, it felt like the most perfect moment you could have ever wished for.
"Gods" you breathed, the sound barely audible, "you're killing me, Luke." Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into you, and felt his smile too.
He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through your body. "Maybe that's the point, doll." His voice was husky, laced with something that sent a jolt of desire sizzling through your veins.
You opened your eyes, meeting his stare. His cheeks were flushed a faint red, a testament to the potent drink he'd consumed, but his eyes held a fierce intensity that excited you, even though you´ve seen it before, just not this close. His hair was windblown and messy, perfectly accompaying his handsome features.
"That was quite a show back there" he rumbled, his voice low and warm inside your ears, as he placed behind your ear a stray of loose hair. You could smell the faint scent of the strange red drink on him, mingled with something else - a familiar, comforting scent that you associated with him.
"You dared me" you defended yourself, suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny.
He chuckled again. "Don't worry, ´m not judging. I'm just impressed."
His thumb brushed over your lips, sending a spark of desire shooting inside your tummy. "You shouldn't have done that just to prove a point, though." There was a playful glint in his eyes, but also a hint of something more, something serious simmering beneath the surface.
The words were a warning, but they held an undercurrent of something else entirely. The way he was looking at you now, with a fire burning in his eyes that mirrored your own, made your knees weak. You knew he wanted to kiss you, but he wanted to make you wait; by brushing your lips with his thumb, your jawline, your cheekbones. His touch, so light, left a trail of thin fire where he touched, a blush in your face, a hot feeling against his fingers.
"Who said I was trying to prove a point?" you ask, your voice as weak as your knees felt.
He met your gaze then, his dark eyes searching yours after he drifted them away from your plump lips. "What was it about then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in a mocking tone.
You swallowed, the sudden honesty both exhilarating and terrifying. "You" you blurted out, word dripping heavy from your lips.
A smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips.
"Me?" he echoed, his voice husky. "What about me?"
You weren't sure if you could take back the words you were about to say, but the look in his eyes, the way his hand tightened on your cheek, urged you forward. In a sudden, bold move, you brushed your hands against his forearms, gripping them. Then, with a surge of newfound courage fueled by the moonlight and the strange drink, you reached out and guided his free hand to your waist, slipping it dangerously beneath the edge of your shirt. Your touch sent a visible tremor through him.
"I´m not dumb, Luke.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly, but still flashing a smirk at him. "The way you like to tease me," you continued, your cheeks burning even hotter. "The way you look at me-,"
Before you could finish your sentence, the space between your lips vanished. With a grip on the base of your neck, he slammed his cold lips against yours. His kiss was sudden, fierce, and intoxicating. It tasted of the strange red mix he'd been drinking, but it was also the taste of desire, of unspoken feelings finally finding their release. It was a kiss fueled by the electricity that had been crackling between you all night, by the way his eyes roamed down your body, by the way you instantly feel your arousal stain your panties as soon as he called you ´Good girl´, a desperate exploration that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning. His hand found its way to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, the heat of his body searing through your thin shirt. You moaned into his kiss, a sound that was both surprised and utterly satisfied.
The kiss was messy, fueled by the heat of the moment and the alcohol coursing through your veins. You stumbled backwards, his hand following the curve of your back and the top of your ass until you found yourselves pressed against the rough bark of the oak tree.
His touch ignited a fire within you, a desperate need for more. You stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips more, which were impossibly perfect in the moonlight. Your height difference, usually a minor annoyance, felt electric now. You felt small and protected in his arms, yet the need to be closer burned bright.
A strangled moan escaped his own lips as his tongue danced against yours, exploring every corner with a possessive urgency. The quiet of the night was only broken by the ragged sound of your breaths and the frantic thump of your hearts, the smack of your lips. The kiss intensified more, a battle for dominance that you were both surprisingly eager to lose.
He was gripping into everything he could, he semed to know you so well; he grabbed your waist, gently let his finger fall from your shoulder blades to your lower back, brush your inner thighs with his fingers and just when you parted your lips to sigh in satisfaction, he would fly his hand to your throat again, squeezing slightly; he still gave you reasons to look for breath.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, the dark strands surprisingly soft against your fingertips, and pulled slightly.
"Whoa there, princess" he murmured against your lips, his voice thick and heavy. He pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, but not enough to sever the connection entirely. His eyes, dark and gleaming with desire, twinkled with a hint of his usual teasing glint. "Slow down. We've got all night, or at least until someone notices we´re gone."
Even in your flustered state, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The sound was breathless and shaky, but it broke the tension that had been building between you. “Everyone knows we´re gone. Besides, you started it” you mumbled.
"Maybe I did" he admitted, his eyes gleaming with a devilish delight. "But you have to admit, doll, you didn´t stop me."
He leaned down again, but this time, the kiss was different. It was slower, more deliberate, his tongue exploring yours with a languid sensuality that sent a whole new different warmth in your body, more intimate, more private.
"Maybe you should show me exactly what you meant by 'not dumb'" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. His words were a challenge as his kisses started to trail down the side of your neck.
You bit your lip, torn between playful defiance and a desperate need to feel his lips lower. "You know what I meant, Luke” you breathed out.
“Can you read me that well?” he let out a breathed laugh out, his hot breath making the skin of youe neck grow goosebumps.
"Maybe better than you think" you whisper. Your lodged your head back, the back of your skull hit the rough oak tree, but Luke´s lips trailed such delicious and desperate bruises down your neck that you didn´t seem to care.
The conversation was quickly replaced by the filfthiest sounds; his teeth sucking on your skin, the wet pop of it whenever he would pull at your skin to start another purple spot on your skin, your whimpers as he did so.
His hips pressed against yours, squeezing his hardened cock against your pelvis to relieve the painful and heavy tension inside his jeans. One of his hands brushed up one of your thighs, grabbing it from the back of your knee to raise it towards his hip. Then it widened, fingers open as much as possible and squeezing the flesh as he went higher, your skin getting hotter and more tender as he trailed up, finally brushing his fingers over your panties.
You gasped when he applied the tiniest pressure, breath shaking as he held tighter onto your body. Your had your hips rolling against his hand unconsiously, letting little whimpers fall off your lips as Luke grinned at the feeling of his fingertips getting slightly wet.
He pulled them aside slightly, your arousal coating his fingers as you let out a strangled moan from the back of your throat. Luke pulls back slightly, his face in front of yours. He admired your face, twisted in pleassure as he dipped one finger in, slowly. "You´re all wet for me" he whispers, eyes darting from yours, to your lips.
A small pout crossed your features as you nodded. Luke felt like dying. The alcohol had his head spinning slightly, eyes blurry as he tried to focus on your face again, the little pout in your lips, your pink cheeks, the so innocent look made his cock ache more inside his jeans. You were too much for him, you always were his weakness, but tonight every emotion he ever felt for you was multiplied a hundred times more.
He would lie to himself if he said he didn´t dream about having you before, about holding you tight against him, about feeling how warm you would be. He spent endless nights jerking himself off at the simple thought of you, his mind racing with all the memories he held deep back into his head. He loved it when you wore skirts like now, so small yet so elegant in your legs, how you managed to make everything pretty on you even if we were talking about the sweaty and old camp shirt. He loved the exposed skin of your legs and arms, your cleveage, your neck. he fantasized about them every time he could, biting on his bottom lip and holding back moans as his hips twitched when his seed would stick in between his fingers.
But now he didn´t have to worry about being quiet, or about how long he would have to keep his secret to himself, because he had you right there, with two fingers deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out at a fast pace that only made the squelching sound louder and wetter by the second.
He took your bottom lip in between his teeth, stealing a painful cry from you. Your brows were frowned in the deepest pleasure when you started to mumble senseless things in Luke´s ear, something about going faster, or harder. Truth was, Luke wasn´t entirely listening either, too focused on how much he could use you by following all the thoughts that ever crossed around his dirty mind.
He felt like staining his pants any second when your hand squeezed in between your bodies and grabbed onto his cock over the fabric of his jeans, your hand guiding your fingers up and down as you tried your best to satsify him too. A low groan erupted from him, darting your hand away and pinning it against the tree behind you.
"Stay still" he said in between tight teeth, his nose bumping against your as he used his free hand to get rid of his belt. Your heart pounded at a franatic rythym, almost ripping out of your chest. You decided to keep quiet, pressing your lips together as you patiently waited. "I know you´d blow me if I asked you to" he suddenly blurted out, "but as much as I like your pretty mouth, I don´t wanna cum in it yet" he declared with a single raise of his eyebrows.
Your cheeks got squeezed together when he grabbed them with a single hand, kissing you deeply again. He had pulled his jeans down to the ground, and as much as you wanted him to manhadle you, to tell you what to do, to play with you more, you couldn´t wait much longer. Your free hand went down slowly as your lips moved against each other. Luke hissed when your cold hand grabbed the base of his cock, heavy and hot in between your fingers. You pumped him a few times before leading it to your entrance.
And you both lost it.
You tried to be as quiet as you could, Luke slapping his hand across your lips as you pulled into his hair to make him groan instead of moaning, but it was a task as hard a letting your mouths do the sound they pleased. You squeezed your eyes shut at how tight the knot in your belly was turning, your cunt squeezing Luke´s cock so much it started to hurt.
Because Luke was not gentle, or slow. He was behaving like an animal, fucking you like one, with his deep groans and the bites along your neck and shoulders. He held you up as your legs were wrapped around his waist, back painfuly pressing against the rough tree behind you. He shook you as if you were lightweighed, hands gripping to your ass with his hips slamming against yours over and over again.
The heel of your feet pushed his lower back, forcing him to go deeper. He was being louder than you, moaning into your ear with his mouth hanging open and his brows frowned, his words dripping down your body, melting your brain.
"You feel so good, baby" he panted. "So tight. Can’t believe I had to wait this long to fuck this pussy"
And you couldn´t help but reply to his words, parting your lips and letting out the most pornographic whimper you could release when your ass kept bumping and bumping against the oak. The material was hurting your skin, but you didn´t seem to care. All you asked was for more, and more, and more, and Luke was determinated to give you what you wanted.
"You´ve always been my favorite, Luke" you whispered into his ear, one of your hands holding the back of his neck. Your words came out so easily, it didn´t seem as if he was fucking you so violently that it had your back hurting and your eyes rolling at the back of your skull. "I-," you cut yourself off, biting your lips to get out a single cry. The tip of his cock was brushing your spongiest spot. "I always knew you´d fuck me right"
You smiled when a subtle whimper of vulnerabilty slipped past his lips. "Yeah?" was all he asked.
"Yes" you pleaded. "I know you´re always playing, but, you can have me when you want"
He was fucking you dumb against a tree, and you were rotting his brain with your words. You could sense the effect it had on him; how he gripped you tighter, painting bruises into your skin. How he rested his forehead on the crook of your neck and his breath smashed into your skin.
"I´ve always wanted you, yn"
There was a glenching sound echoing through the clearing, the sound of where you two connected the most, but it got lower and lower as Luke´s frenetic movements started to slow down its pace.
He grilled his teeth when his cum filled you up, white and hot. He squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling, it was too good. You squeezed him on porpuse when his cock twitched inside you, his hands almost failing at the task of holding you to him.
He stopped feeling his heartbeat inside his ears, but his mouth hung open against your chest, kissing your sternum tenderly as he slowly made you stand on his feet again.
You placed your hands over his shoulders, hugging him into your embrace as his lips grazed over yours again. He brushed them against yours before pressing softly, the taste of the alcohol forgotten, but the warmth of his smooth flesh transfered to your mouth.
But when he tried to pull away to kneel down and look at the mess he had made; his cum dripping down your legs, your panties so messy you weren´t sure if you could wear them ever again, you stopped him.
"I haven´t cummed yet. This isn´t over, big boy"
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 days
Text
What I Thought About The Owl House Pilot
Huh. Never thought I’d get to do this again, but oh well.
Salutations, random people on the internet! I’m an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.
And, above all else, I LOVE talking about The Owl House. I have an entire masterpost dedicated to talking about every single episode of the show and I’m halfway through a six-part review discussing everything that I love about it (Part Four's coming when it’s done. Let’s say…late June. Early July at the latest). I figured that after I’d finished that whole deal, I wouldn’t have anything left to talk about when it came to this series. Then, out of nowhere, the show’s original pilot leaked online…Sort of. It’s just an animatic with the show’s original voice cast voicing MOST of the lines, but it’s very much the pilot episode. It’s just not a finished product and I won’t share a link because I don’t think it’s exactly…legal. BUT I will at least share my thoughts about it because, well…Look at my blog. The Owl House has become the BIG THING that I obsess over for a reason and I love that I got to see what’s basically an alternate version of the show that I love. What do I mean?
Well, a pilot is MUCH different from a first episode. Where the first episode is meant to sell the show to the audience, a pilot is meant to sell it to a STUDIO. It can happen at any point of the story or act as the show’s first episode. Just as long as it shows off the characters, concepts, and tone, a studio can look at it, greenlight it, and allow the show to continue, BUT with some extra notes. Sometimes, those notes can change the rest of the series where others can keep the pilot good enough to stay canon. Some best examples off the top of my head are the pilots for Regular Show and Rick and Morty. You can tell that not much changed from the pilots of those shows and what was initially pitched, but there are clear changes in tone, animation, and even personality. Skips sounds a little more illiterate and Benson being more informed of the consequences of something as simple as rock, paper, scissors in the Regular Show pilot and Rick is noticeably more reckless and unprepared for situations in the Rick and Morty pilot. Nothing is set in stone with a pilot episode, even the ones that are canon. For the case of The Owl House, it’s pilot is no exception. A lot of it is just the same as “A Lying Witch and A Warden” at least in terms of plot and themes, but there are so many changes that show off what the series COULD HAVE been instead of what it was. How different? Well, let’s go through it all.
But real quick, I’m not going to do the “Like/Dislike” format I’ve done for previous reviews. Instead, I’m going to look through this pilot, note the changes it has, and share my thoughts on them. There’s also going to be a few spoilers to what happens in this pilot, so if you haven’t checked it out then I suggest giving it a watch wherever you can find it. It really is interesting to get a peak into what’s basically an alternate version of my favorite show.
With that said, let’s get into it.
Some Things Stayed the Same: Like I said, it’s basically an altered version of “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” The plot is that Eda uses Luz to get King back his “crown of power,” with some bits and pieces carrying over. Certain jokes that must have been too funny to get rid of, specific lines of dialogue that hit just the right notes, and some aspects of the characters’ personalities being just the same, proving that they're already perfect the way they are. It’s the changes, however, that makes for something more interesting. For one…
There’s More of an Emphasis on Comedy: As much as I love The Owl House, I’ll always admit that humor isn't its strong suit. It CAN be funny, really funny. But the jokes don’t land as well as something as Gravity Falls or Amphibia. I can say that a part of that could be because Dana Terrace wanted a more serious show, and we definitely get a sense of how serious it could be later in the series. Here, in the pilot, it definitely seems like there was more of an attempt to make the show comedic. King’s crown isn’t in a warden’s cell held within a magical barrier that only a human can get through. It’s in a Principal’s high school, locked in a human locker that Eda and King treat as something devious. Amity’s friends aren’t preppy mean girls who seem like they could cause conflict to Luz and her friends. They’re characters used for jokes who are amazed by Luz standing up to Lilith. There’s less of an edge and more of a lean towards cutesy fun, waiting until the very end to reveal something heavy. To me, it makes the pilot feel MORE like a Gravity Falls clone than the final product. Because while Gravity Falls has its serious moments, it makes it clear that it was a comedy first, both in the pilot and final product. Any moment of heart or drama was overshadowed by one hilarious joke after the other. Now, “A Lying Witch and A Warden” had a lot of jokes too, but there were also these moments that hinted at something more. You have the oppressive looking prison, the grand beam of light hiding human collectibles, a crazy chase from a threatening looking warden. And yes, the reveal that Warden Wrath was trying to go out with Eda was hilarious, but a warden who tortures a prisoner for speaking her truth gives a hint of how dark this world can be. Meanwhile, a principal sending a student to demon detention feels more like a joke, exaggerating how strict some principals can be.
And keep in mind, I’m not complaining about the pilot leaning more towards comedy. I actually laughed a lot more with it than I did with “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” I’m just trying to explain how the tone is definitely going for something different than the full series. It might have that darker twist in the end, but even that is nothing more than a surprise. I'll get into why later, but while it has darker implications, it doesn't detract from the fun times to be had. Not by much. From what I can gather from the pilot, it’s definitely going for a series with goofy, fun adventures with a bit of heart to it. It’s just missing that personal touch that’s in The Owl House. One good example of how?
There’s Not Even a MENTION of Camila: Before you say anything, this has nothing to do with me being Camila’s number one fan, to the point where I almost made a side-blog dedicated to her (I really should get on that, though…)
I bring up this change because Camila grounds the story in “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” She draws Luz close to reality and is the first thing that comes to Luz’s mind when in real danger, saying, “If I die, my mom will kill me!” More than that, though, Camila is the one real connection Luz has to the human realm. She has no friends nor adventures, but Luz always has Camila, with even the first episode hinting that. So when Luz starts getting herself into trouble or choosing to lie and stay in the Boiling Isles, it lets the audience get ready for the inevitable drama that could unfold when Luz finally tells Camila everything. By removing Camila, though, the anticipation of Luz telling her mom goes away with her. At least, it tells ME that there’s less of a worry about Luz basically running away from home. Either this version of the show is holding off from that for a future episode or that Luz and Camila’s relationship isn’t close enough where it matters. This is speculation, of course, but I still stand by that a sense of something personal with Luz is lost for the sake of having fun and epic fantasy adventures with entertaining characters. It’s still good and entertaining, and the pilot does offer something else that’s personal, but it’s not the same as The Owl House we all fell in love with. Though, it’s notable that our main cast stayed the same.
Luz, Eda, and King: Overall, I’d say that these three, personality wise, didn’t change much. King’s probably the least altered, being the exact same character he was in Season One aside from MAYBE having a design change (It’s hard to tell through storyboards). As for Luz and Eda, they’re more or less the same. There’s a BIG change with Eda (That I’ll get to later), but her devil-may-care attitude is very much the same, as well as her snark and soft nature towards Luz and King. It’s her magic that gets the real boost, being able to do more like teleport across the Isles and turn into a…softer version of the Owl Beast at will. It’s pretty cool to see the power that this alternate Owl Lady has. And then there’s Luz, who’s still the lovable weirdo we all know. Though, this version seems a lot more dim and I’m not really a fan. How does she mistakenly give a book report in geometry class? How did it take seeing Amity’s witch ears to realize that she belonged in the demon realm? Luz had her dumb moments in the show too, but not to this extent. There was still a sense of maturity and cognitive understanding that made Luz feel like someone that seemed weird but intelligent enough to think herself out of a situation. This Luz seems more weird and focused on using brute force on a problem. In a way, it makes Pilot!Luz more of an…emotionally driven Star Butterfly. A fun and capable character, but not the same kind I had made several posts and reviews talking about how much I love/personally connected to her. But, comparatively, I guess it IS the most minor change that could be done to this character. Now let’s move onto BIGGER changes.
The Boiling Isles: The look and feel of the Isles remains the same, but the fact that it’s more connected to the Human Realm is intriguing. From what I can tell, the Demon Realm treats traveling to the Human Realm like it’s going to a new country. You visit, make some memories, and, for some, send your children over to be a foreign exchange student of sorts. Except that racism seems to be encouraged in this regard as the demons and witches don’t see humans worth breathing the same air as them. And some think it’s more than okay to hunt down and kill if one human trespasses into their realm. And the reason for THAT is implied to be Belos’ doing. Er, I mean–*Checks the leaked pitch bible*--Emperor Pupa? Uh…I’ll just stick with Belos. 
And that’s extra fascinating to me because Belos being a witch hunter was a major twist that spoke VOLUMES of the kind of people he represents. To find out that this version is more anti-human makes me curious of what kind of angle the show would have taken. Would Belos have been your bare-bones fantasy villain or would the writers find a different way to tackle his symbolism? And is the reason why the Demon Realm is more open up to the Human Realm because he hopes witches and demons can report about their enemies for a possible invasion? There’s no way to know for sure because that version of the story will never come to be, but it’s interesting to think of all the things we COULD have gotten. The same goes for other characters.
Amity: To think, Amity was considered important enough to be included in the original pitch pilot alongside our main trio. It makes sense. Dana Terrace has gone on record in saying that Luz and Amity’s relationship was something she wanted from the get go, so it’s smart to establish it as quickly as possible. Though the route they take is definitely different. Instead of being enemies to lovers, Lumity, in the original pitch, went for the friends to lovers trope…kind of.
Luz, in this version, is someone so desperate for positive attention and respect that she latches onto the first person in school that was nice to her. Except that Amity was looking for some quiet and just so happened to look like she was supporting Luz when telling everyone to leave her alone. It was an act of kindness, but not one done in generosity. It still meant the world to Luz, though, making her go ALL IN with friendship. Only to be a little too forward and creeped Amity out to the point where she was polite enough to say “Thank you,” but you could see the desperation in her eyes to be anywhere but next to Luz. Yet Luz doesn’t see that. She’s still too focused that someone was actually nice to her that she blindly follows Amity into a new world just to return a weird looking passport. Because Amity’s Luz’s friend now and friends do nice things to each other. Only for Amity to accidentally reveal that she couldn’t care less for Luz and shatter her hopes and dreams in one fell swoop.
In a weird way, I’d say Luz and Amity are off on a better first impression here than in the original series. There’s no attempted dissections or witch’s duels. Just…Amity trying to be polite in Luz’s presence only to act like your typical mean girl when she THINKS Luz isn’t around. Tossing away the drawing is harsh for sure, but here’s the interesting thing: Amity didn’t know she was talking to Luz at that moment. She didn’t even get rid of the drawing until someone drew (haha) attention to it. If anything, it’s worth noting that Amity still kept the drawing on her. Almost like, despite being weirded out by Luz, Amity felt as though the drawing WAS cute and only got rid of it when she thought someone would question her for having it. Can’t have that Little Miss Perfect status shatter over something some human gave her.
Am I reaching as a Lumity shipper? Oh, most certainly yes. But we all know the inevitable conclusion between these two. We know where they’re headed. Dana has been pretty adamant about wanting it from the start and this pilot sets the groundwork well. Knowing where these two will end up, it’s easy to make connections and hypothesize what means what. Plus, look at the face of shock and amazement on Amity’s face when she sees Luz standing up to Lilith. That looks like a girl who’s…feeling things for this human weirdo. They’re not off to a ROARING start, but I can see how things could improve between Luz and Amity. And who knows, maybe this version of these two might end up dating sooner with how quickly they seem interested in each other. Again, am I reaching? Most definitely, but I went without any new Lumity content for over a year so LET ME REACH!
The point I’m trying to make is that this version of Amity definitely seems a lot more chill and polite at the start, even though it’s likely she still has issues of even being FRIENDS with a human. But not everyone starts off polite.
Lilith: Crazy to think that Lilith started out as…basically a one-off villain like Warden Wrath. At least, that’s what I gathered from the pilot. The pitch bible hints that there COULD be more to her, but at the same time she gets sent to a fire dimension and loses a hand. That’s one-off villain energy if I’ve ever seen it. But if she is meant to be something more, I would love to see what differences could come of her being the headmaster of Hexside instead of Bump and how she could either develop into someone better through Luz’s influence as a student or regress into someone worse as she makes Luz’s school life a living hell. Whatever could come from her, it was kind of fun seeing Lilith act as more of a threat with her…out of nowhere ability to turn into a bat monster. It’s a pretty cool design and I love that it was brought out due to Eda’s constant pestering, proving that Lilith is still the same insecure nut that I love. And it is pretty great that this pilot confirmed that Lilith really did dye her hair to look more serious. You CAN’T tell me that’s not why the Lilith we know ditched the curly red hair.
But that’s about it when it comes to changes towards characters and locations. Let’s talk about the potential differences in the ongoing story.
Luz Stays Trapped Instead of Choosing to Stay: I mean, technically she chose to stay by breaking that key for no reason, but that’s more of a consequence of not thinking things through. She didn’t NEED to break the key, Luz could have just as easily pulled it out. Instead, she kicked the dang thing, leaving herself trapped in this new world. And it’s here that I would like to once again point out how this makes Pilot!Luz different and what’s lost by not including Camila. The Luz WE know would have been more careful. She always felt like someone who fought smarter, not harder, even in that first episode. Luz didn’t fight Wrath head on, she rallied a prison riot that distracted him long enough for her to hit a firework ball into his mouth. She’s intelligent and resourceful, where this one…kind of is? It was smart to send Lilith to the fire dimension, but again, not a great plan to break the key. Plus, without Camila, this doesn’t feel like as big of a deal as it could have been. Camila was the first person in Luz’s mind as she destroyed the portal door in the Season One finale. In the pilot, with no Camila, it feels like a non-sacrifice or even that big of a deal. She’s stuck, sure, but Luz doesn’t really seem to care that much. She feels happy being with Eda and King and doesn’t seem to be in that big of a rush to get home. Plus, it’s not exactly complicated to get back. There was a whole line of portal doors in the beginning that Luz could potentially sneak through and there’s not yet an established cannon that makes it seem like getting a new key would be difficult or even complicated. Once more, it gives the impression that this version of The Owl House would be focused less on personal stakes and more like giving Luz that fantasy adventure she’s always been craving for. It would make for a fun show, but not the SAME show. However, it is worth noting that there could be some potential drama. Especially for one twist that was a JOLT to my system.
EDA WORKS FOR THE EMPEROR?!: WHAT?!
I’ll admit, I feel like the reason why this is so shocking is because of the Eda I know and the Emperor I learned to fear. I mean, Eda, the woman who would sooner eat her own fist before even CONSIDERING helping Belos, even before the witch hunter business, was originally meant to HELP him. Of all the changes that the series could have made, this was by far the biggest. Everything that I thought to be constant turned out to be a lie and I was NOT prepared for it!
But again, the reason why I got that big of a reaction is because it goes against everything I knew about Eda. If this was my first introduction to her, it’d be less of a shocking twist and more of a…hook. Like how Invincible’s first episode (Don’t watch if you’re a baby) ends with a character you THOUGHT you could trust doing this intensely dark thing. The rest of the season is leading you to figure out WHY this was done and how the other characters would react, making you want to see more as the show inevitably leads up to this big conclusion that changes everything you once knew. The same applies here, with the reveal making me wonder why Eda would do this, how long she’s been doing it, how it will affect her relationship with Luz, and whether or not it’d be an easy fix. And much like the ending of Invincible’s first episode (Seriously, NOT meant for babies), this hook makes me interested in wanting to see what comes next. Except I never will know because that came from a version of The Owl House that will never exist.
The pilot is interesting because it shows me what The Owl House COULD have been. I wouldn’t say that it’s better than what we got or even that it’s a better first impression than “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” It’s definitely FUNNIER, I’ll give it that, but it doesn’t make the original pitch better, it makes it different. Everything looks the same and sounds the same, but the overall feel of this pilot makes it something that would have had a different story, tone, and ideas on how to develop these characters. Would I have liked it? Absolutely. It seems like a fun time. But that doesn’t mean I like the show we got any less. This was more like…getting a peek into an alternate universe where a show I already love would have been vastly different. And after over a year without any new Owl House content aside from stuff that fans have made, this was a very pleasant surprise that leaves me excited for the NEW fan content that springs from all this.
But that’s enough talking about a show that could have been made. Time to get back to a series that came into existence and I still love so much. See you all then as you all milk this gift that the internet has given you.
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juha-art · 9 months
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"I wanted to play a spirit who dreamed of being a knight"
the full comic is here:
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emo-batboy · 10 months
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Battinson on SNL
Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀
SO
To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”
But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.
Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨
But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.
They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.
So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.
He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?
Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.
It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:
OPENING MONOLOGUE
It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.
To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.
Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”
It’s working. The audience loves it.
Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.
Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.
There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.
Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!
(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)
SKIT #1
Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)
The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀
Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.
Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.
PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”
He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.
PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”
SKIT #2
For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.
It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.
He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.
Yes, he IS sparkly.
Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”
Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.
Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”
Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”
Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.
SKIT #3
The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.
Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another. 
Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.
Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."
Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.
At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”
This time, the mic bit is a bit different.
Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”
Board dings! That was the #1 answer
Brucie Wayne for the win
SKIT #4
Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”
The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…
But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.
Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”
A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…
We hear some generic hero music play…
And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume
(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)
Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”
Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.
Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”
He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”
CLOSING SEGMENT
Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.
Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)
News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”
News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”
News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”
It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!
News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”
And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.
The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.
Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.
THE END
LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D
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thankskenpenders · 4 months
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Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.
First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.
Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.
The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...
I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.
The why
I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.
Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.
But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)
The what, how, and when
So here's the plan.
Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.
After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.
I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.
I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.
So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?
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icallhimjoey · 2 months
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Explain Us
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut
Author’s note: there's an attempt at communication! hurray!
Wordcount: 3.2K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
Shittest night of sleep ever? Yea. Shittest night of sleep ever.
It could not be true that in this short amount of time you no longer were able to fall asleep on your own like a normal person. That you needed another body next to you in order to let it catch you and drag you under.
But you’d barely slept. And the sleep that you did get was of the lightest variety, which barely even counted as sleep, you thought.
You had half expected maybe to wake up in Joe’s bed in the morning. Weirdly hoped that you would’ve sleepwalked right over into his room when you subconsciously heard him come home.
You had also half secretly wished that Joe would’ve made his way over and snuck into your bed upon finding his own cold and empty.
Neither happened.
Which was actually devastating.
But you had to pretend it wasn’t.
You were just flatmates, remember?
So you woke up in your own bed the same way you’d gone to sleep; by yourself, all alone, tired as fuck, and being stared at by Joe’s little plant.
Joe’s little plant that, deep sigh, desperately needed watering.
With a low grumble stuck in the back of your throat, you got up and out of bed and went to feed that little plant. Meanly whispered, “You don’t even belong here.” to it as you poured some water from the cup that held your toothbrush in your ensuite.
You immediately felt bad for it, and followed it up with a soft, “No, I’m sorry, you do. I just haven’t slept well. Sorry.”
Idiot.
Talking to a plant.
You needed some coffee.
Joe’s bedroom door was closed, which checked out, he was probably sleeping off a hangover. But halfway through breakfast, you heard the front door open and frowned in confusion. Your mind shot over who the fuck that could be besides Joe. Who else had a key beside both your mums?
But then, a sweaty, wet, rosy-cheeked Joe walked in, all out of breath, already pulling his T-shirt over his head that he then used to rub at his curls before pushing them back.
You nearly chocked on your bite of toast.
Joe smiled, still panting, and leant both arms on the island right next to you. Bent all the way down to do some stretching, and then stood up, only to lean over and take a bite from the piece of toast you were still holding.
If you’d have been more alert, you’d have moved it out of his way.
But, clearly, you were not more alert.
Not your fault, though. Clearly.
“Morning,” he grinned, breathing through flared nostrils as he chewed.
You comically blinked and checked your wrist that didn’t hold a watch for the time.
“What the... are you still drunk?”
Joe laughed as he opened the fridge, fishing out something to drink. He found a bottle of water and you watched him closely as he gulped some of it down.
“What time did you even get in?”
“Not that late,” Joe shrugged, “Two-ish, I think?”
You saw how he eyed the breakfast you were still holding, and yea, you weren’t that hungry anyway. You dropped whatever there was left onto your plate and slid it across. Joe happily went for the scraps.
“And already all alert and awake at,” you tapped your phone to actually check the time and grimaced. “Oh, never mind.”
It was nearing in on half 9.
Felt much earlier. Probably because you’d barely slept.
“You should try it,” Joe said, eyes on what he was about to shove into his mouth, all casual, like he wasn’t half naked and shiny with his own sweat. Wet curls trying to creep onto his forehead like their life depended on it. Cheeks all red and blotchy. “Come running with me sometime. Really makes you feel useful first thing.”
You scoffed at him despite how good he looked.
Shit. He looked so good.
But Joe had said that like you didn’t get up early to go to work five days a week. Like you didn’t leave him in his bed only to turn over and go back to sleep once you’d left.
“Um, I’ve been useful plenty, mind you.”
“Oh yea?”
“Watered your plant first thing.”
“My plant?”
“Your plant.”
Joe’s eyes scanned you for a second, and you almost grew shy.
“It’s in your room.”
And with that, Joe rounded the island and bent to push his face into your neck where he left a wet raspberry that made you squeal before he left for a shower.
You didn’t talk about how you’d slept in separate beds for the first time in ages. You didn’t mention how your arm had reached across several times in search of him, and how you’d felt stupid for it every single time you remembered he wasn’t there.
At least breakfast hadn’t been awkward.
He was insane for walking in like a wet dream, sure. But it was ultimately all fine.
And it wasn’t like you ever talked about anything ever before. If anything, this was as normal as it had ever been between the two of you.
So you went about your day. Had many important activities to do. All crucial business. Almost too much for just one girl, but you know, you were a real go getter.
You moved the little plant from your dresser to your windowsill where it would get some actual sunlight, and then fell asleep on the sofa to some bad TV.
Like you’d said; crucial business.
The evening came around fast, and after your shower, you found yourself sat on the floor by the foot of your bed. Your nose stung from the open bottle of nail polish remover by your feet, and you felt how it dried the absolute shit out of the skin of your toes as you’d forgotten to get the acetone free kind.
Across the hall you could hear Joe brush his teeth in the bathroom, and you silently prepared yourself for another night of shitty sleep.
You didn’t know if you could muster up a stupid excuse to sneak into his bed tonight, and after sleeping apart, it felt like there was a new threshold in place. One that was too high. If Joe wasn’t going to invite you over, you probably wouldn’t.
You’d moved onto your second foot when you heard footsteps coming closer, and then Joe appeared in the doorway to your bedroom.
Obviously, you immediately noticed him.
Didn’t mean that you also had to immediately acknowledge him, though.
You kept eyes on the task at hand, using a thumb to really push down on a cotton round that tinted pinker with every swipe.
Joe just stood there, leant against the side and you tried to imagine what Joe was looking at. You were sat on your rug like a dirty little gremlin, inhaling chemical fumes that would leave you loopy if you didn’t close that bottle soon.
You eventually cracked and went, “What?” without looking up.
You could feel Joe smile.
“Looks good there, in the window.” he commented, and that did make you look up, finally. You followed Joe’s gaze and turned to look at his crispy wave that you’d placed there.
You knew Joe was just making conversation, but you didn’t really know what to say. For a moment, it was quiet and you both just... look at the plant.
Then, you let your filter drop a second and surprised yourself when you said, “We got caught yesterday.”
You said it before you looked at him, and you were glad for it. When you did turn your head his way, he was already frowning in confusion. You were glad you hadn’t seen him go from a cheeky smile into that muddled glower.
“What do you mean?”
“I told her. Had to, tell her. She asked.”
You didn’t even say what you told her. You trusted he’d get it. So many things went unsaid with you, surely, this could be one of them.
You were right, because in true flatmate fashion, Joe didn’t ask.
Instead, you watched his face change back into a soft amusement as he lowly chuckled to himself. Looked down at his bare feet. Nodded and sighed. Visibly dropped his shoulders.
You didn’t understand what was funny.
But you also didn’t ask.
And then, Joe turned and just... left. Walked back over to his own bedroom.
What the fuck did that mean?
You should’ve just asked.
You didn’t. Of course.
You had a task to do. Two of your toenails were still red. And the skin of your fingers was starting to stain now too.
You finished up, cleared all your toenails of the chipped polish and kept your ears pricked up. You could hear Joe’s wardrobe doors slide a few times. The clinking of his metal hangers. Things being dropped to the floor.
Weird time for a wardrobe clear-out, but, you kind of got it. You’d just mentioned it for the first time... ever? In front of him. Said you’d spoken to a friend about it. You’d just told Joe you’d talked about something intimate and secret between the two of you that you had never even spoken about to each other. It was at least a little unsettling, wasn’t it?
You remembered the last time you’d gotten weird news at a similar time of day and had decided that you needed to clean the kettle at half 11 on a Thursday.
People coped how they coped.
It was fine.
You double checked if the rug had any pink marks on, were glad to find that it hadn’t even though you hadn’t exactly been very careful, when you heard Joe’s wardrobe doors slide shut.
You paused.
Waited for the noise of him getting into bed.
The rustling of his duvet.
But then he suddenly called, “You coming?” and despite yourself, you smiled. Tried to bite it into your mouth to hide it, but that made it only grow wider.
“One sec!” you called back and hoped that the excitement wasn’t so noticeable through your voice. You quickly went and made your bed, so it looked all tidy. Got rid of the dirty cotton rounds that stank up the whole room and turned off the lights before making your way over to Joe’s room.
There you saw that Joe had neatly stacked all of what was inside of his wardrobe in piles on the floor just outside the wardrobe.
Awful.
Men were messy and awful.
But men also had warm beds they wanted to share, and Joe was holding up his covers so you could go and sneak in, and so you didn’t waste any time. Snuck right in on your respective side of his bed.
And then... it was awkward.
Kind of. Maybe.
You both laid on your backs, arms above the covers, and stared up at the ceiling and... now what?
Why was this suddenly weird?
You could think of a few reasons, but they were nothing to delve into right now.
After a short moment, Joe turned his head to look at you, and so you did too. Looked at him. Saw how he looked at your shoulder. Your arms. Your chest, probably.
"Nice T-shirt."
Oh.
Yea, that was his.
“Looks good on you.”
If the goal was to make you smile, he had succeeded. With flying colours.
But then his face turned serious, and he said, “But you know, it probably would look a lot better on my bedro–”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You’d already rolled your eyes at him before he’d even finished the cheesy pick-up line and stopped him before he got to complete the punchline. It made him laugh, and you were quick to roll yourself half-way over him because how could you not kiss that pretty mouth shut?
And this was it.
This was the answer.
All hints at awkwardness vanished the moment you pressed your lips to his.
The moment Joe’s arms wrapped around you.
The moment he kept you in place with a tight grip, right on top of him.
The moment he let a hand wander to grab at your ass.
The moment he encouraged you to alleviate some pressure over one of his thighs.
When you felt how hard he was.
When you lost all control over your breathing.
Felt how Joe kept holding his, only to release it in shudders every couple of inhales.
You had never had actual sex before. No, wait, you did. What you had seen and felt and tasted of each other already did also count as actual sex. But it had all been hands, fingers, mouths. You'd never let Joe inside with more than his fingers. Twice his tongue.
Joe was just as aware.
He was happy to just make out for a while. Touch your tits. Help you ride his thigh. Have you sneak a hand into his boxers after, to make things wet and sticky inside of the cotton.
You know. Normal flatmate things.
But you kind of wanted more.
You’d never had more, and Joe’s hands were good. His fingers were nice. No complaints at all. But you wanted more.
Joe stilled when you pulled him out of his boxers. Pushed them down a little to reveal all of him.
"Are you–..." Joe whispered, and it was so soft, you could barely hear it over your own breathing.
You were already lining yourself up.
"Wait– are you sure you want– did you– ahmm..." Joe let his head fall back into his pillow and groaned when you used him to rub at yourself. To make yourself feel good a second.
Drove him fucking insane.
You liked that.
Liked how Joe so easily showed you the effect you had on him.
Liked how audible he was when you pressed him there a little harder. Moved him there a little faster. He almost sounded pained.
He started looking more and more like he did that morning when he’d come back from his run.
“Are you sure?” you teasingly asked when you moved him to where he could slip inside with just a simple thrust of his hips.
Joe made eye-contact and you laughed at the deadpan sarcastic glare you got. Of course he was sure, were you fucking joking?
Your laughter died fast as Joe did exactly what you wanted and pushed up, slipping inside.
“Shit.” You moaned.
“Yea, shit.” Joe confirmed.
And yea.
This could be a new flatmate thing.
Sure.
Riding your flatmate was fine.
So normal.
You cuddled on the sofa and had pizza together because it brought the both of you comfort.
And this brought comfort all the same, didn’t it?
Made your legs cramp a bit quicker, sure, but intimacy was intimacy and if you both liked it, then why not?
What was stopping you?
Joe came first.
Gargled, “Oh fuck!” before pulling you up to free himself, and it fucking went everywhere.
His fault, he panted, followed by a quick apology. He shouldn’t have held onto your waist to keep you in place and shouldn’t have started thrusting up into you like a fucking animal, he explained.
You didn’t mind.
Joe coming first didn’t feel like a mistake.
It was actually kind of hot that he got so into it that he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Maybe not the sperm exploding over fucking everything, but you knew Joe didn’t think this flatmate activity was done until you’d orgasmed as well. That was how it had worked up until then, anyway.
You expected him to maybe get his hands in between your legs, and you were already sort of moving into a position to make that easy work for him, but then Joe surprised you when he said, “Go get your toy.”
You froze and looked at him.
“No?” he asked when he saw your face.
“I– What? Have you snooped–... wait. Do not answer that.”
Joe had never snooped. Wasn’t a snooper. He still didn’t know where most the things in your kitchen were kept.
That meant that he’d heard it.
Mortifying.
But there was no time to feel mortified.
Joe nodded his head towards your room, casually said “Go get it, let me play.”
And, okay. Fine.
Joe was allowed to play.
Twice.
Joe got to play twice.
He pushed for a third time, but you had to put your foot down. Had to push his arms away from you pleadingly.
Too much.
Good though.
This was definitely  going to be a new flatmate thing. You’d personally see to it. Surely, Joe was on the same page.
You got a kiss to a sweaty temple and were instructed to put that toy back, go for a wee, have a sip of water, and come back to bed.
You did as you were told, body still buzzing when you got back in between his covers where you saw Joe reach for his phone and set an alarm.
Half 6.
“Are you going to get up early to feel ‘useful first thing’ again?” you joked, moving your hair to where it wouldn’t hurt when you lied down on Joe’s pillow.
Joe huffed a laugh and placed his phone on his bedside table before saying, “If I were, would you join me?”
“No.” you simply said as Joe turned around and pulled you closer. “But change it to a walk, and it’s a strong maybe from me.”
Joe cuddled up close and used his nose to push at your cheek until there was enough space there for him to burrow into your neck.
“No, you’re the worst to go on walks with,” he mumbled all close to your ear.
That tickled you, and you giggled as you acted outraged. “What?”
“You have zero spatial awareness,” said the boy who was giving you zero personal space at the moment. “You keep bumping into me every four steps, it’s so annoying.”
You laughed and tried pushing him away, but it only made him burrow deeper.
It was quiet for a second then.
Just his breathing in your ear.
Darkness surrounded you and, shit, it was so nice to have an arm over your waist. A leg pushed in between yours. You never wanted to sleep alone again.
Maybe you could just turn your room into a huge walk-in wardrobe.
Or an office.
Joe could read scripts and practice lines in there, and then this bedroom wouldn’t have clothes all over the floor like it did now.
Maybe you’d talk about it tomorrow.
You felt like you’d made a good attempt at communication today.
Baby steps, you know?
“Well,” you whispered, ready to let yourself drift off into a deep sleep. “Enjoy your run all alone by yourself, then, loser. Good night.”
You felt Joe’s stomach tense with silent laughter as he squeezed you even closer to him. You used a lone finger to trail soft lines up and down the arm that held you. It took mere seconds for you to feel how it gave him goosebumps there.
It was disgusting how you were about to fall asleep with a smile plastered onto your face.
Absolutely vile.
You fucking loved it.
“M’not going for a run,” Joe then replied on the back end of a sigh, of a sleepy satisfied hum, words slightly slurry with how close to falling asleep he already was.
This was the good stuff.
All warm.
All cosy, toasty and so stupidly comfortable.
His face in your neck and your body surrounded by all of his.
Sheer bliss.
“I’m moving tomorrow.”
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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fernsproutxx · 1 year
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that unique place (p.07)
[previous] [next] — [first]
Gregory likes to stick out his tongue when concentrating, and did you notice he’s left handed¿ Micheal is so proud just look at them. also, ayy were halfway through the comic! as i said before im taking a break from drawing, so hopefully my motivation comes rushing back. i already had this page made so it would be wrong not to post it kekw.
if you enjoy what i do, consider supporting me on ko-fi!
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d1xonss · 5 months
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Desert Rose
Chapter 16 ~ It ain't like that
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose
✧ Era : Season 2
✧ Word Count : 3.6k
In this chapter ~ After a day full of awkward tension within the group and an even more awkward dinner, Rose finds herself trailing back up towards where Daryl is recovering, in hopes to find some kind of escape. But not even she could deny that she enjoyed his company and presence more than she ever imagined.
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Walking down the porch steps, my eyes scanned around the area to see if I could spot Carl anywhere. But from what I could see he wasn't anywhere out in the open.  I then caught sight of Dale sitting nearby in one of his chairs just outside of the RV reading a book, his glasses set on the tip of his nose.
I let out a sigh, swallowing my embarrassment thickly before walking up to him. I could feel the uncomfortable conversation from all the way over here about what he witnessed me do, but we both had to get over it some way I guess.
"Hey, have you seen Carl? I'm supposed to take him shooting." I explained.
He just nodded his head back towards the RV, not taking his eyes off the page. My eyes narrowed as I stood there for a moment, debating if I should say something else about the obvious tension or not. I felt like I had every good reason to yell at Andrea because what she did was stupid, and everyone knew how fast she could've killed Daryl. I didn't expect Dale to necessarily take my side, but I also wasn't expecting him to ignore me.
"You're mad at me for what I did." I stated.
His eyes finally panned up towards me slowly, "I'm not mad, but I sure as hell didn't expect that from you Rose." he snapped.
"Well, what did you expect me to do?" I asked with a scoff, "Just sit there and let Andrea think she can get away with bloody murder?"
The man did nothing but stare at me, not having a good enough response to say out loud, though he wanted to defend her.
"Look, I know you're close with her, but you have to admit she doesn't listen for anything, and she thinks she can just do whatever she wants. I wanted to make it clear that she isn't going to get away with that type of shit anymore. Not as long as I'm around."
The man licked his lips in annoyance, taking his reading glasses of to look towards me with a tilted head, "The message is fair, but it's the way you said it to her and how you got physical. That's what I don't like."
"Heat of the moment." I muttered with a shrug.
"You have to understand that she's going through a hard time right now. You were there when she lost Amy and when she wanted to stay behind at the CDC, you witnessed those things." he expressed with gesturing hands.
"Dale, I understand that okay? But that doesn't give her a free pass to do whatever she wants, especially when it involves hurting other people. She didn't listen, simple as that, and Daryl almost lost his life because of it."
"Why are you so concerned about Daryl?" he then asked suddenly.
"You're not?" I clapped back.
"I am," he assured, "But I didn't tackle Andrea and scream at her because of her mistake." he replied.
"Dale," I said sternly, "That's not the point. The point is she fucked up and I handled it. I'm sorry if what I did upset you, but I'm sure as hell not sorry for doing it."
He opened his mouth to say something in return, but I was already halfway in the RV before he had the chance to utter another word. I don't know why he brought up Daryl like that, but the fact that he did, trying to take the conversation in a whole different direction, really pissed me off.
Carl was sitting down at the table when I walked in, reading a comic book quietly to himself. I didn't know how much of the conversation he heard, but to me it didn't matter. I just tried my best to put on a fake smile and pretend like the argument didn't happen.
"Hey kid, you ready to go practice?" I asked him.
He smiled and nodded his head, placing his book down to stand up and leave. We then walked out of the RV and made our way over to Rick to let him know we were heading out, and when he gave us the okay, we headed towards the trees. Trying to find a safe place to practice where the shots couldn't be heard anywhere near the farm.
My mind was elsewhere as we walked side by side, not being able to shake the conversation Dale and I had. I even felt myself began to question if I was truly in the wrong, if I truly was a bit too harsh. But in the end I knew I wasn't.
Maybe I had taken it a bit too far, but I wanted her to actually hear me. That, and the anger I felt seemed to have gotten the best of me, though it still didn't mean I regretted a thing.
"I heard your fight with Dale." Carl said suddenly.
I sighed with my eyes closed, "It wasn't a fight, it was just... a disagreement...about something I did earlier."
"Everyone kind of knows know," he replied. "What you did to Andrea I mean."
"Great." I deadpanned.
"I don't think it's bad. I think you were just trying to protect Daryl, and so does everyone else... plus I don't really like Andrea she's kind of mean to me." he said.
A slow smile creeped onto my face, "Yeah? Well, next time she's mean to you tell me, I'll put her on her ass again." I said, nudging my arm with his.
He smiled and nodded as we continued to walk through the woods.
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We had been practicing for around two hours and the sun was starting to set, so we started to wrap it up and walk back to the farm. The kid was actually a pretty good shot and picked up fast on how to aim. I was proud of him, and I knew his dad would be too once the kid told him every single detail. He was practically skipping down the dirt path, too excited to tell everyone about the things he had accomplished.
The only thing we needed to do now was to get him some moving targets. Make it a little more challenging for him so he had something even better to brag about.
Once the house began to come into view, the second Carl spotted Rick, he rushed towards him. His mouth ran constantly as he told him everything and how much fun he seemed to have. Rick nodded listened to his son before looking up at me and smiling silently in appreciation.
I only chimed in once to genuinely tell him how well he did and how much of a natural he was when it came to this. He even knew how to hold the gun before I even got the chance to show him myself. But I guess judging by who his dad is, it wasn't too big of a surprise.
Once Carl ran inside to tell his mom as well, Rick came up next to me, "Thank you for taking him out there, I can tell he had a lot of fun." he said with a smile, "Are you sure you were okay with taking him? You're still injured, you know."
I smiled and shook my head, "No, I'm okay don't worry. I bounce back pretty quick."
He nodded and wrapped an arm around me as we made our way back to the house, the smell of the freshly cooked food coming out of the open windows.
A few women from our group decided to get together and help make a giant dinner for Hershel and his family. A simple thank you for letting us stay on their land for so long, showing them how much we truly appreciated it.
We all began to gather around with plates full of food in the dining room, sitting myself down in the space between Glenn and Rick at the giant table.
Though I soon came to realize only after a few seconds that I could easily cut the tension in here with a knife. Everyone was completely silent as we ate, the only sound being the utensils against the plates, and I didn't fail to notice the glares I was receiving from Shane for absolutely no reason.
He stared at me through his tired lids, chewing his food aggressively as if I had shit in the food he was eating. His eyes seemed darker and dead, making me grow slightly uncomfortable in my seat as I shifted around.
My eyes then locked with Andrea's as she looked at me sadly, almost apologetically, with Dale right next to her giving me the same expression. I clenched my teeth together harshly, wanting to just get away from the six watchful eyes that burned into my skin.
Glenn pushed his food around on his plate awkwardly, "So... does anyone know how to play guitar?" he asked out of the blue, "I saw one in here earlier."
I could tell how desperately he was trying to break the awful awkward silence, and though everyone's attention was turned to him as he spoke, no one answered.
But something else had to have happened while I was out with Carl, there's no way this was all because of what I did a few hours ago with Andrea. I then saw Hershel giving Rick some kind of glare, and that's all I needed to see to know that something happened between them as well. I'm just glad it wasn't all pinned on me at least.
"Oh come on, someone has to know how to play." Glenn tried again with somewhat of a hopeful smile.
I did. But I sure as hell wasn't going to say anything about it right now.
"...Otis did." Patricia finally muttered sadly.
With a nod I got up, not being able to take the tension anymore, along with the three people continuing to bore holes into my head. To find some kind of excuse, I announced quietly that I would take a plate of food up to Daryl who was still resting in bed before leaving the room in a hurry.
I passed Carol on my way to the kitchen and stopped her for a moment, "Hey, if I were you, I would walk back into that room really slow." I advised.
She looked at me and nodded, smiling slightly to tell me she knew exactly what I was talking about.
I then filled another plate and made my way up slowly to Daryl's room. I softly knocked on the wooden door and waited until I heard his voice of approval before making my way in. Opening the door, I saw Daryl was sitting up against the bed frame with a book in his hand, looking a lot better than he did just a few hours ago.
"Hey, what are you reading?" I asked him as I made my way over to sit in the chair from earlier.
He looked at me with slightly wide eyes before shaking his head, "Nothin..." he muttered, attempting to hide the book under the covers.
My eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, glancing briefly at the cover before he could hide it completely and gasped dramatically. It was one of the books I took from the CDC.
"Thief." I scolded.
"Gimme a break, m' bored out of my mind in here."he said, rolling his eyes.
"Okay, fine," I caved, "But I want that back when you're done."
He glanced up at me with a smile, nodding, "Yes ma'am." he said deeply.
One of my eyebrows pulled up and I scoffed dismissively, but I swear if the room had been quieter, he would probably be able to hear my heart hammering in my chest. Everything about that was perfect. The words, the way he said it, the way he sounded when he said it, good God.
When I finally glanced back up after a few seconds I saw him smirking at me, practically seeing right through me as I rolled my eyes in response.
"I brought you some food." I then said, changing the subject.
"Thanks." he responded, taking the plate from me and settling it in his lap.
We sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes as he ate, though I scanned his face briefly and felt myself frown a bit. Even though he was looking a little better, I could tell he hadn't slept, the darker bags under his eyes being a dead giveaway. Though I couldn't remember the last time he had actually gotten a good night's sleep.
He then broke the silence, "How'd the practice with Carl go?"
"Oh, it was actually really good. The kids actually a pretty good shot, he's a natural." I replied.
He glanced up at me, "Or maybe it's just cause he's gotta good teacher."
I tilted my head at him, but right as I was about to say something else, there was a knock at the door, Carol walking in only a moment later. She looked a little apologetic as she entered the room, seeing she was interrupting something, but I just smiled at her to show her it was just fine.
"Sorry," she cringed, "Just came in here to ask how you're feeling." she spoke to Daryl.
"Like I've been shot." he responded and gave me a side glance with a smirk, repeating the words I told him a few days ago.
She just nodded in understanding, "I just wanted to say thank you for the things you did today. You did more for my little girl, then her own daddy ever did in her whole life."
He scoffed with a shake of his head as he pushed the food around on his plate, "Rick or Shane would've done the same thing. Ain't nothin."
"Yeah...but you're every bit as good as them. Every bit." she said.
Then she leaned over and placed a kiss on the side of his head, mindful around the bandage, and my heart warmed a little at the sight. I thought it was really sweet that the two of them were talking more and becoming closer, even if the circumstances weren't the greatest.
But her actions made Daryl slightly uncomfortable however, and I pressed my lips together as I tried not to laugh at the scrunched up look on his face. She then gave me another small smile before turning and silently leaving the room, shutting the door silently. It was then and only then I finally let out a quiet laugh, to which I received a glare in return.
"What are you laughin at?" he annoyedly asked me.
I just smiled sweetly, before puckering up my lips and beginning to make kissy noises at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically before he started to eat his food again.
He let out a huff, "Stop, it ain't even like that." he said.
"Oh, it's not?" I asked sarcastically.
"It ain't. Not at all." he mumbled seriously.
Even after hearing that, I still made more kissy noises towards him, really dramatically too before he got fed up after a few more seconds, "Y'know what, get out. I don't want you here no more."
"No, no," I laughed, "Please don't make me go back down there. I would rather kill myself with one of Hershel's fancy forks then go back down there."
He chuckled, "That bad huh?"
"Horrifying," I said, "Everyone is in there eating in painfully awkward silence and there's this weird tension everywhere. Pretty please don't kick me out."
He looked at me for another moment, noticing how desperate I became as I looked at him with big eyes, "Fine. But you quit teasin me bout what just happened. It ain't like that."
"Why do you care so much about what I think Daryl Dixon?" I asked.
He looked back at me mid bite, and I could see his cheeks started to turn red at just the simple use of his name. I loved how easy it was to embarrass him, but I didn't really know why this particular thing would make him blush. I knew it wasn't about Carol, I could tell he didn't have feelings for her, though I liked teasing him. But I didn't understand why he had become so flustered now.
"I don't." he finally seemed to answer after a few painfully long seconds.
He does.
"Okay." I said simply with a smile on my face.
He stared at me for a few more seconds before beginning to eat again. I sat there and let my mind wander to random things as he finished everything left on his plate.
Suddenly I remembered that Hershel wanted me out of the house as soon as I was feeling up to leaving, and I completely understood why. I mean there were only so many rooms, and I didn't want to be in there longer than I had to. He had already helped me out so much, I didn't want to be a burden, and it was the least I could do after he saved my ass. But Daryl noticed quickly that I got quiet and started spacing off.
"What'cha thinkin bout?" he asked me.
I shrugged, "Hershel just wants me out of the house by tonight I think, because I'm feeling better. I was just thinking about where I would stay."
He nodded in understanding as I began to ramble my thoughts, "It's too crowded in the RV and after my talk with Dale, I wouldn't want to go in there anyway. I might just sleep-"
"Ya can stay in my tent." he interrupted.
I raised my eyebrows, "Really?"
I noticed he swallowed thickly before responding, "I mean...we've shared a tent before, it's no big deal."
"That's true...are you sure?" I asked.
"M' sure."
I slowly nodded, "Okay, thanks," I smiled, "But I guess you have to stay in here for the next few days, huh?"
"M' already goin crazy in here, I don't think it'll last that long." he joked.
I let out a small laugh, "Yeah, probably not. Well, I'm gonna go so you can get some sleep, but here, I'll take your plate." I offered.
He met my extended hands in the middle, passing the dish over towards me as his hands brushed against my own.
"I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled, turning to make my way towards the door.
"See ya tomorrow." he said.
I left his room and shut the door quietly behind me, before walking back downstairs, passed the few other rooms. The truth was I really wasn't helping myself at all by spending even more time with Daryl. Don't get me wrong I wanted to, but I needed these feelings for him to go away at some point and sharing a tent with him wouldn't exactly help that. But where else was I supposed to stay?
Shaking my head, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Beth standing by the sink washing the dishes from tonight. Her back was facing me as she had a stack still left to do, scrubbing away the stains the food left behind.
"Hey," I greeted before placing the plate next to the sink, "Do you want any help, hon?" I asked her.
She shook her head politely, "No it's okay, I got it." she assured with a smile, "Part of my chores dad still makes us do."
I nodded in understanding, turning to walk away when her voice stopped me. "Oh, hey Rose? Glenn mentioned at dinner to me after you left, that you like to sing." she stated.
I froze, "Well, I'll have to make sure to kill him for saying that later." I joked.
She laughed, "Well, my point is you like music and things like that, do you know how to play the guitar?"
"Um, yeah just a little, why do you ask?" I replied.
"Well, I was just wondering if you um... could maybe teach me?" she asked shyly.
"Oh yeah, yeah sure I can teach you." I said with no hesitation.
Beth seemed like such a sweet soul and spending more time with her wouldn't be an issue at all. Plus, I wanted to find something to do for her after she looked out for me right after I was shot; Daryl only telling me about it briefly. But I thought this was the perfect way to thank her.
"Really?" she asked, shocked.
"Yeah, it sounds like fun. We'll talk more about it tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay!" she exclaimed and ran up to give me a hug. I was taken back for a second before wrapping my arms around her as well.
She smiled at me brightly in silent thanks before going back to doing the dishes, and I left to go get my things and move them into Daryl's tent.
After I was done gathering everything up from the room I was previously staying in, I made my way out to his tent to get some sleep. But out of the corner of my eye I saw two figures having a hushed yet heated discussion by the barn. When I squinted my eyes a bit I saw that it was Glenn and Maggie, and Glenn seemed to be silently freaking out about something, flailing his hands in the air, while she was trying to quietly calm him down.
My eyes widened at the dramatic scene, but I just kept walking, silently deciding to not get involved at the moment. Plus, I was too tired to care and the painkillers I took earlier were starting to wear off, my side beginning to hurt a lot more that they were out of my system. My eyes grew too heavy and I was in too much pain to give a shit right now.
Once I found Daryl's tent, I dropped my stuff down on the left side and made myself comfortable on the sleeping back. I maneuvered on my back to look up at the ceiling of the tent, my eyelids fluttering closed.
The last thing I could hear right before I passed out, were Glenn and Maggie growing louder as they argued about walkers. But then again, it was probably just a dream.
~ Thanks for reading!
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wakebymoonsleepbysun · 9 months
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Untitled Roxy x Reader fic (hurt/comfort)
EDIT: A more polished version is now up on ao3. If you're re-reading it or sending it to someone, then the ao3 version is preferred, but it's not changed enough that I would necessarily suggest re-reading it again if you weren't already going to. <3
For some reason, last night, I decided that it was imperative I write and release a Roxy x Reader oneshot before Ruin. (ETA: To be clear I mean I wrote this before Ruin released, therefore it contains NO SPOILERS. <3) It's an idea I've had for awhile and was going to do as a comic but decided to expand it and write it out instead. I may post a more polished version to ao3 at a later date.
Fun fact: Roxy was my first FNAF crush, before SB even came out. So Ruin will have many chances to break my heart.
Word count: ~3200
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When the Pizzaplex burned down, none of your colleagues had seemed particularly interested in returning to the ruins. You could understand…some of the techs arriving for the morning shift had been caught in the blaze, and while there were no casualties, there had been some injuries. Yourself included.
After a few weeks in the hospital, the burn mark across your face was just an angry red scar, and the singed hair you’d had to cut off had regrown enough for you to wear a slightly uneven pixie cut.
The other techs said you were crazy to want to go back. The future of Fazbear Inc was uncertain, and the animatronics themselves were just that. Animatronics. Machines. Not worth putting yourself in danger for.
But you’d come to consider Roxy a friend. Sometimes you thought she considered you one, too. She didn’t seem like she would readily admit such a thing even if it were true.
She had at least liked you as a tech, if not as a person. You were the only one who could do her pre-show checks and weekly maintenance without ruining her hair, at least according to her. According to the other techs, Roxanne’s hair was always fine.
You quickly learned that to Roxy, “fine” was equivalent to a reprehensible failure. A disaster. A complete horrific mess. 
You didn’t think your experience with costuming (specifically wigs) in your college’s theater club would ever be something you used after you graduated, but life is full of surprises.
You wander through the corridors of your ruined, burned out workplace, flashlight in hand. You have a few guesses as to where Roxy might be. You desperately hope she’s okay. The structure is mostly intact, but there are a few collapsed portions and fallen bits of decor. You think as long as Roxy had been able to avoid the worst of the heat, she’d be mostly alright.
You make your way to Rockstar Row, your workboots crunching on the debris as you walk.
As you approach Roxy’s room, you hear something that makes you freeze.
Crying.
For a moment you wonder if another tech, or perhaps some urban explorer or rubbernecker is in here with you. Then you recognize the voice behind the sobs.
Roxanne is crying? You’re more surprised than you probably should be. But you’d seen behind her mask a couple times. Behind the vanity, haughtiness, and borderline entitlement, you had occasionally glimpsed a profound insecurity. Beneath it all, you don’t think Roxy actually likes herself very much.
You swipe your badge on the door, and it actually dings and slides open. Or tries to. Something jams it halfway and you have to wedge yourself into the doorframe and push the door open the rest of the way.
Roxy, who had been sitting at her vanity, head in her hands, perks up. Her ears twitch as she glances around. “Who’s there?” she calls out.
You open your mouth to speak, only to leave it hanging open in surprise as you see how badly she’s damaged. So much of her exoskeleton is missing, exposing the endoskeleton underneath. Her hair is a tangled, singed mess and her tail isn’t much better. But most horrifying, her eyes are completely gone.
“Who’s there?!” Roxy repeats, a growl in her voice as she stands up and starts stalking towards you. You can hear the servos and joints in her body creak in protest as she moves.
“R-Roxy, it’s me!” you say before hastily blurting out your name.
She stops, her ears twitching and her claws grasping at the air. At first you think she’s baring her teeth at you, but you quickly realize her broken faceplate has put one side of her mouth in a permanent snarl.
She huffs, turning away. She skulks back to her vanity, plopping down in her chair and burning her broken face in her shattered hands. “What do you want?” she mutters.
You tense, taken aback. “Wh-What do you think I want, Roxy?” you ask incredulously, slowly moving towards her. “I-I wanted to know you were okay. I wanted to help you. I was…terrified you’d…been destroyed,” you say quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She pulls away with a growl. “I have been destroyed! Just--Just look at me!” The rage in her voice doesn’t fully mask her despair, nor does it completely hide her fear. Fear of what? Of what could have happened? Of how close she came to being permanently deactivated?
Her command was clearly rhetorical, for she lowers her head further, digging her claws into what remains of her scalp.
“Roxy…all this can be fixed…” you say gently.
“No it can’t!” she snaps. “I already checked. Parts and Services is a pile of rubble now.”
“Well…what about the loading docks? Maybe we can at least find some new eyes for you…”
She scoffs. “Oh good. Then I can see myself. Because feeling all this isn’t bad enough,” she sneers, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Roxy--”
“FINE!” she growls, pushing back from her vanity abruptly. If the chair weren’t screwed into the floor she surely would have toppled it over. “Fine. Let’s just go.”
You flinch nervously, nodding. Remembering her blindness, you quickly say, “Okay. Here,” you say gently putting a hand on her arm.
“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, though she sounds somewhat less defensive and a bit…nervous? Embarrassed? With a huff, she adds, “I’ll just follow your footsteps.”
You bite back a sigh. “Alright,” you say patiently.
You lead the way out of her green room towards the long stairway down to the loading docks. You’re not about to risk trying to take the elevator.
“Here, careful on the stairs,” you say, gently taking her arm again. This time she allows it, albeit with some reluctance as she gives you what probably would have been a withering look if her faceplate had been intact.
It’s a long way down and neither of you want to rush. The sound of your softer footfalls and her heavier ones as you both pick your way down the stairs echoes through the stairwell.
Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk.
You watch her carefully. She seems too focused on making it down the stairs to be too sulky for the moment. Small blessings, you suppose. Still, the silence is only stretching out your descent.
“It sounds like one of your knees is out of alignment,” you say eventually.
“The left one,” she confirms a bit gruffly. “I can manage.”
“I can see that,” you say gently. “It took me awhile to notice something was even wrong. You carry yourself well,” you say, smiling a bit.
Roxy grunts in acknowledgement, but doesn’t preen even a little at the praise. That’s unusual for her…compliments usually cheer her up.
“Maybe I can find a new hinge while we’re--”
“Why are you doing this?” she cuts you off.
“W-What do you mean?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the flight of stairs.
“Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean,” she says. Before you can speak, she continues, “This whole place is finished. Nobody’s coming back to rebuild. What’s the point of you patching me up?”
“I told you, Roxy…I was worried…” you start as you resume your climb down the stairs.
“Why?”
“Because I care about you!” you say, exasperated as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You keep your hand on her arm as you make your way down the corridor, and she doesn’t protest.
She snorts. “You care about a pile of scrap?”
You wish she could see the glare you give her at that. “You are NOT a pile of scrap! You’re just a little scuffed.”
“More than a little,” she huffs.
You sigh. “Okay, maybe a little more than a little,” you admit. You force a smile. “But hey…I’m the perfect tech, remember? If anyone can get you fixed up, it’s me, isn’t it?”
You weren’t normally any kind of braggart. Roxy had been the only one to ever call you the perfect tech, though you feel like that was almost more a point of pride for herself rather than for you. As if she were praising herself for being deserving of the best tech more than she’s praising you for being the best tech. But you still liked hearing it…and sometimes it really did seem like she was directing the praise at you.
Roxy turns her head towards you, her ears swiveling forward. It’s hard to read her expression with her broken faceplate, but eventually one side of her mouth ticks up into a small smile. “...Yeah…” she admits softly.
You squeeze her arm gently, careful to not touch any of the sharper broken off bits.
Once you get to the loading dock, you guide her to sit down on a crate while you look through some of the recent part shipments.
The fire had somehow spared much of this place, but the collapse of P & S had rippled partially through the area and several patches of ceiling had fallen, knocking over piles of crates and leaving the whole place in disarray.
Eventually you find a crate that has the P & S stamp on the wooden slats, and figure that’s a promising place to start. You grab a crowbar and begin trying to pry it open in any way you can.
Roxy’s ears perk and she turns towards you. “What are you doing?”
“Trying--urg--to get this crate open,” you grunt.
She stands and walks towards you. “Let me,” she says. She reaches towards you, trying to determine your position.
You take her hand, your fingers weaving in hers for a moment before you guide her hand to the crate.
“Thanks,” you say, stepping aside.
“Well…pretty silly to make a human do all the heavy lifting,” she says, digging her claws into one of the planks. The wood splinters and creaks and is readily ripped free.
You smile weakly. “You’re right…these arms would never have a fraction of your strength,” you say. Jokingly, you lift your arm and flex…only to realize Roxy won’t be able to see it.
Probably for the best. It was a dumb joke anyway.
She snorts, actually preening a bit as she pulls another board free. “Even busted…” she agrees softly. Her tone is slightly melancholy…as if she doesn’t fully believe it.
She pulls another board free, and you put a hand on her shoulder. “I think that’s enough for now,” you say, guiding her back to the crate she had been sitting on before.
You begin pulling the smaller boxes from the shipping crate, cutting them open and rummaging through them, looking for anything usable. 
Once again, the silence stretches on.
After finding nothing useful in the first two boxes, you glance back at Roxanne. Her hand is over her face, her middle finger slowly tracing the cracks near where her eyes had been. The quiet isn’t doing her any favors.
You shove the box you were looking through aside and pull out another, cutting it open. “Roxy?” you break the silence.
“Mm?” she grunts, still more focused on her faceplate than you.
“You…d’you um…remember that time we ran out of driver bots and that angry dad yelled at me?”
She pauses briefly, turning her head towards you. “What about it?” she asks before going back to feeling her faceplate.
“You remember what you said to me?”
“I called you an idiot.” Was that a touch of guilt you detect in her tone?
You laugh weakly, nodding. “Yes. But you remember why?”
“For letting a loser like that get under your skin,” she says plainly.
“Right,” you say, smiling. “I think about that a lot, you know.”
Roxy scoffs. “Really? Freddy said I was too rude,” she says. If she had eyes she would have rolled them.
You let out a gentle chuckle. “Well…maybe a bit,” you admit, earning a slightly sulky huff from her. “But there was truth to it, y’know? And I think about it a lot. It uh…it’s…helped me. Deal with people like him.”
She cants her head, one ear flicking curiously. It’s a cute expression even with her broken faceplate. “It…did?”
“Yeah,” you say, pulling out another box and opening it. “I-I mean…you were right. I knew he was a loser but I still told myself his opinion meant something. But it doesn’t, y’know?”
“Yeah,” she agrees quietly.
The conversation lapses again, and you try to resist the urge to slow your search in order to come up with a new topic. Luckily, it is Roxy who picks the next topic.
“You remember that time a birthday party ran long, and I was late getting back to the recharge station?”
You freeze. Oh you do remember. You remember that evening well. The animatronics tend to get a little quirky when their battery dips below five percent. Something about a power save mode cutting power to random systems. Usually mobility, but somehow, their…inhibitions, for lack of a better term, also seemed to go by the wayside. As far as you know nobody ever quite understood why, but it was a little like getting loopy from lack of sleep, or even a bit tipsy.
Roxy smirks, hearing your stunned silence. “You do.”
“Y-Yeah…I…I wasn’t sure if you did, though.”
“I remember the important parts.” Before you can start to wonder what the “important parts” are in her mind, she continues, “You’d finally used that salon voucher I gave you for your birthday. Gotten your hair done. Actually wore it down. I never understand why you hide such long pretty hair up that bun.”
You fluster a bit. “Th-The dress code--”
“Oh, you do it without the dress code,” she scoffs, flicking a hand dismissively.
You clear your throat awkwardly, pausing to rub at your cheeks as if you can wipe the blush away. “W-What’s your battery at, by the way?”
She snorts. “Just an idle wondering?” she smirks. “It’s twenty-two percent.”
So it’s not her low battery talking…
Roxy continues, “You know…if you can find a set of replacement eyes…I wouldn’t mind seeing your hair down again,” she says, actually sounding wistful, of all things. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard her sound wistful.
You sigh softly, running a hand over your chopped off hair. “Y-Yeah…” you say, noncommittally.
She glances at you questioningly, sensing something in your tone. But before she can comment, you cut open another box, and find it has the spare eyes you’ve been looking for.
“Found the eyes!” you say. Some of the happiness in your tone is genuine. You grab two amber ones, going over to her. “They’re just standard optics, so you won’t see as well as you’re used to, but…it’ll do for now,” you say, guiding her to lay on the floor.
Her smile fades slightly and she nods, reality setting back in. Despite your claims that you could repair her, she wasn’t convinced she’d ever be as good as she was before. “Guess it’ll have to,” she mumbles.
You put a flashlight in her hand and position her arm to shine it down on her faceplate, giving you light to work with. Your toolkit is beside you, with some extra lengths of wire and soldering iron to work with. As you cut away the burned wires, murmuring apologies whenever Roxy flinches, your mind drifts back to that evening.
Her power had been at one percent when you finally coaxed her into her recharge station. Before you did, though, she had leaned down and pressed her lips to yours. You think she had been trying to nuzzle your cheek. Even “drunk” you don’t think she wanted to kiss you like that.
Neither of you had ever spoken of that night again, until today. She must not remember the kiss, you decide. She wouldn’t bring up that night at all if she did.
The truth is you’ve carried a small flame for her ever since then. Or perhaps a little longer, if you were more honest with yourself. Nothing you couldn’t ignore most of the time, of course…but something that had occasionally managed to put a bit of warmth in your heart when you allowed it to.
But none of those silly little what-ifs you’d allowed yourself to daydream of would ever come to pass now.
You wire in the eyes, then carefully fit them into their sockets. As they come online, the attached eyelids blink shut against the light.
You quickly turn away, keeping your back to her as you pack up your toolkit. “Th-They working okay?” you ask. It’s silly to turn away like this. You can’t possibly delay her seeing your scar for more than a couple minutes. Why even bother trying?
She moves the flashlight out of her eyes and sits up, looking around. “Yes,” she says. She pauses. “...Better than I thought. I forgot the standard optics still have night vision.”
You laugh weakly. “Another thing you have over me, then,” you say in what you had meant to be a good natured tone, but you couldn’t quite keep the melancholy from your voice.
Roxy catches it and glances at you curiously. She stands up, then reaches down a hand to help you up.
Well. No more putting it off.
You bow your head slightly as you turn to take her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. When you stand before her, you finally lift your head to look into her eyes, giving a small, tentative smile that borders on apologetic.
Roxy stares down at you, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. “Wh-What…happened…?”
You sigh, glancing away slightly. “I-I…got to work early, and…I was upstairs when the fire started. It…spread so fast I…had to cut through some pretty bad areas. I-I mean. I guess, something like that…I-I don’t really remember…” you say, your voice starting to shake.
Roxy’s hand is on your cheek, turning your face back towards her as she examines your scar.
You feel your face growing warm. “I-I don’t know how I got the scar, really…The EMTs found me passed out in the employee parking lot.”
Roxy smiles sadly. “You were strong enough to save yourself.”
You blush deeply at the compliment, lowering your gaze. “I-I guess so…”
She runs her thumb over the scar, tracing the ridges of the shiny, discolored skin. “Can it be repaired?” she asks, her tone more gentle than you’ve ever heard from her.
You shake your head, resisting the urge to nuzzle into her palm as you do. “Not…really. My hair will grow back and the scar will probably fade a bit, eventually, but…it’ll…probably be pretty noticeable for the rest of my life…” You feel tears brimming at your eyes and force out a weak laugh. “C-Can’t really…uh…s-switch faceplates on a human…y-y’know?” you say in a wavering tone.
Roxy hums quietly, bringing her other hand up to cup your other cheek. “No need,” she says, lowering her head and gently nosing at your scar.
Your breath stills at her words, your eyes widening in surprise. You’re almost not sure you heard right.
She pulls back, smiling down at you tenderly. “You’re still beautiful,” she murmurs, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours.
129 notes · View notes
tangledinink · 6 months
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Heya! First off I’m around halfway through teenage mutant what now and it is the funniest fic I have ever read - Beautifully written and overall brilliant but the jokes get me every time
And second, is it okay if I reference a pose from one of your gemini artworks for my own work? I’ll credit the inspiration if I post it anywhere ^^
whew we're overdue for an ask dump,,, OKAY ALRIGHT.
THANK YOU ; w ; I'm really glad you like it hehehehe. also yeah sure feel free! I don't mind! ^^
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HEHEHE THIS MAKES ME VERY HAPPY THANK YOU
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oh he DEFINITELY freaked out at first. there was a lot of panicking and confusion and "how could this even happen?!" ("you think i'd genetically engineer a creature that's not capable of reproducing? all of you should be genetically compatible with practically any yokai," draxum said. "AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO, I DUNNO, TELL US THAT?!" donnie said.) but eventually, he did calm down, and he and his partner talked about it (a bunch, multiple times), and eventually some of the panic gave way to... curiosity, first of all... and then maybe kind of excitement? and some fondness? i mean, he was still pretty scared, and sure, he doesn't really consider himself a 'kid' person, but it's not like he never thought about EVENTUALLY having kids, just maybe... not so soon? but. i mean.
well. if they're already cooking...
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THANK YOU ; w ; i'm glad you like them! @kiwi-smug-silvalina
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oh gosh, that's a good question. i'm not entirely sure... uhmmm... i would say perhaps... details about how gemini!donnie's witchcraft looks and acts, VS how venus's witchcraft looks and acts...
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it is very shiny. i like that people call it "the bean" instead of its actual title coz it pisses anish kapoor off.
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ah ; w ; THANK YOU SO MUCH,,, thats so sweet and this made me very happy,,, <3 im glad you liked it!!!! @allegedllama
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HEHEHE thank you. yes im aware that i am deranged.
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omg same hat!!! i was a lifeguard and it was.... uh.... INTERESTING to say the least... (sometimes lovely, sometimes AWFUL...) @datfearlesschick
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if by games you mean 'messed up deals that she can manipulate to her own advantage,' then yes! @frogonamelon
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@beannary @spectralsleuth @heckitall @livsinpjs and the sep council as a whole!!! y'all's support has definitely meant so much and there's no way i'd have gotten as far with any of my projects as i have without them... or without literally ANY of the people who take the time to do things like reblog with tags, leave commentary in the tags, send in asks about my stories, etc etc etc! that's definitely one of my main motivators to create more!!! <3 thank y'all!
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EEEE this made me smile, hehehehe. thank you :3c @thejavavoid
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AAAAAA THANK YOU THIS GENUINELY MADE ME SO HAPPY COZ I WAS SO GODDAMN PROUD OF THOSE HANDS AND HOW THEY CAME OUT ; w ; THANK YOU @onejellyfishplease
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thank you!!! u w u @fanrulerjynx
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THANK YOU ; w ; I REALLY APPRECIATE THIS,,, it made me very very very happy and HEHEHE IM GLAD YOU LIKE YASSIFIED DRAXUM,,, i just think he DESERVES it, y'know? also thats just my favorite way to draw characters lmao I think it's fun so I decided for this comic I just get to indulge...
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not necessarily-- this was mostly just a coincidence! @breezehurricane
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oh gosh. i'm not sure, but i know it definitely WILL affect their parenting... i think at first donnie will find himself just... deferring to his partner a LOT in almost any situation because he's afraid that he'll fuck it up, because he DOESN'T feel like he understands proper boundaries or what parenting is supposed to look like, etc etc etc, and he's afraid he'll mess up. he probably reads a TON of parenting books as well because RESEARCH and will often try to pull directly from them in any situation he can, and is confused when things don't go exactly the way they were described in the text... leo i think kind of tends to flounder between being overprotective and feeling the desire to protect his son from everything and anything and wanting to overcorrect this tendency by pulling back and trying to give him as much freedom and space as possible, which sometimes leads to some... inconsistencies. there's definitely a learning curve for both of them, but they both get the hang of it eventually. they both have lovely partners and a very loving and supportive family to help them and they'll figure it out with a bit of practice.
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ahhh thank you! :D im so delighted that my silly stories actually inspired something for you!!! hell yeah!!! MAKING THINGS IS GREAT!!! THANK YOU!!! @can-elope
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i like to imagine them all staying very close, especially coz i'm loosely planning on them all going through the kraang-apocalypse together (and then coming through to the other side!) so i can't imagine them ever drifting too far from each other, emotionally or geographically. there's a bit of a rocky start for a lot of them, but all of the siblings end up a very tight-knit bunch.
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ashtronomyys · 8 months
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"Uhh Lt, you've got a little..."
"I'm aware, Johnny," Ghost spoke with a tint of annoyance in his voice.
The meerkat perched on Ghost turned towards Soap, eyeing him up and down as if judging him, daring him to encroach upon his newly claimed territory.
Soap snickered at the beady eyes that raked over his form. The animal then turned its attention back towards Ghost. It sniffed around the black balaclava, nudged the fabric with its nose, and even lightly nipped at his head a couple of times. "Looks like the wee thing has taken a shine to ya," Soap teased.
"Well, that makes two pests who like getting in my hair," Ghost spat back. Soap would've kicked his side if it weren't for the little guy. "Just focus on the task Soap, it'll move on its own."
The meerkat decided to step right on the top of Simon's head then, balancing on its back legs and raising its snout into the air.
"I dunno Ghost, doesn't like yer little friend doesn't plan on leaving ya anytime soon."
"He'll move," Ghost huffed.
The said friend seemed to have no intention on leaving, it spun in several circles before curling itself into a ball, nestling itself smack dab in the center of his head and letting out a content sigh. Soap failed to contain the laughter bubbling out of him. Damn, if only he brought a camera!
"Not another word, Johnny. I'd hate to have to reprimand you over a fucking rodent," Ghost threatened with his signature harsh tone. The words didn't hold as much weight as they usually did, though, not with the fuzzy little critter sitting comically on top of him like it owned the place. "Eyes up Sergeant, targets on the move. Need you in position next to me."
Soap lifted his rifle and got down onto the ground, lining his scope up along the horizon, same as Ghost. "Can do sir... Well, /sirs/."
Ghost sighed next to him, but let the joke slide. His focus was drawn towards the complex now, the pair of soldiers tasked with keeping overwatch on the arms dealer while Price and Gaz snuck through the facility, disabling the security measures in place before kicking things off.
Minutes of scanning the buildings slowly bled into an hour. Soap occasionally shuffled a limb or two, shook his hands to get blood flow circulating again. Ghost on the other hand, lay stock still, not moving a centimeter as he remained vigilant. Soap could just see the small brown lump still fast asleep in the same spot as before if he turned his head just enough to the left.
He was halfway through a debate in his head of the pros and cons of reaching over and petting the little rascal when the crackle of comms rang through their headsets.
"A team to B team, sorry it took so long. The general pulled out all the stops on this shithole. You boys still eyes up?" Price's voice came through.
"In position, confirm visual on the target," Ghost responded.
"Alright lads, then let's get this party started. On your go," Price ordered.
"Copy. Soap, if you've got a shot, take it."
"Roger that. To Hell with this bastard," Soap held in a deep breath, lined his sights up on the target, and pulled the trigger.
*Pop*
The sound rolled across the hills and down the valley. As Soap watched the body in the distance fall to the ground, he saw several furry critters dash along the ground in front of them. Soap's eyes widened, he turned to the side just in time to see the lieutenant brush off another pair of meerkats off his back. The fuzzy little guys darted along the dirt, burrowing into one of the clusters of holes a few feet behind them.
Ghost dusted himself off and nudged Soap with his foot. "No time for a nap, Sergeant. Still need to rendezvous with Gaz and Price. On me."
Soap stumbled after the man as he trotted off towards the growing gunfire. "What happened back there?" he asked. "I thought there was just the one back there with us?"
Ghost shrugged. "Guess our lookout point was already occupied."
"Yeah, by a whole fucking apartment complex by the looks of things! How many did ya have laying on ye?"
"I stopped counting after the seventh."
Seven? Soap only saw the one! Well now he's definitely kicking himself for not sneaking a peak back at the man. It must've been a sight to see the big, scary Lt being huddled into by a whole family of little meerkats.
"Go ahead, say whatever stupid one-liner you're dying to say."
Ghost was met with a devilish grin. "Wha', I'd never! Honestly Si, ye've got to give me more credit. I wouldn't dare disrespect one a' the Disney princesses such as yerself! Never took ye for the talking to animals type, but I can't say I'm too surprised."
The lieutenant's shoulders shook as he breached through one of the buildings. "Funny. Room's clear. So here's the plan, we move from structure to structure, use the buildings for cover as needed. We head north towards the meetup point and provide cover for A team, got me?"
"Sounds like a plan," Soap said, gun drawn on the roofline.
"Good. Let's watch each other's six, yeh? Don't want any surprises on our asses."
"Always." Can't have anything happen to that ass of yours, now can we? Soap doesn't voice that last part. Instead, he sneaked a glance at his commanding officer's backside as they step out under the streetlight.
The sight that had greeted him nearly had him doubled over in laughter. Thin, light hairs covered nearly every inch of Ghost's backside, the tan fur stood in stark contrast to the black clothing he wore. The worst of it though was quite literally on his ass, it seemed he wasn't the only one with a disposition for his Lt's behind, seeing as his ass was completely white with the clumps of fur stuck to him.
"Johnny! We're in the open here, unless you wanna get shot again I suggest you get a grip on yourself and focus!" Ghost half-whispered, half-shouted at him as they crossed the street.
In the light, Soap could see the glint of fur falling off of Ghost as he spat out his words. Oh come on! How is he supposed to keep a straight face through the rest of the mission with that happening?
"Ri- Right, sir. Sorry, I'll behave, promise."
"Mmm," Ghost glared at him from behind the mask. "Right, well keep your head straight Johnny. Need to know I can count on you to have my six."
"Aye, ye can count on me."
"Good." The man gave him one last once over before climbing through an opening in a fence on their left.
A tuft of fur clung to the twisted wire in his wake. Soap chuckled to himself. Seems both he and half the animal kingdom out here had his six.
~~~~~~~~~~
Okay but I need you all to picture like 15 of these little guys sitting on Ghost while he's prone with his sniper. With at least 5 or 6 piled onto his ass
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rosemxze · 7 months
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ch2 spoilers: leamas analysis theory
note: im still halfway through chapter 2
yall rmb the pv where he became an angel?
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and we also already know about demons turning into angels from here. (i wonder if the last sentence is a foreshadow to minhyeok? 🤔)
im just wondering WHEN did it happen bc he has been so sus since the beginning and talking about a key after finding out about mc's identity as solomon's descendant. but then shuts himself up when sitri and lucifer asked about it.
also, he said mammon is turning demons into angels but why would mammon do that. from the comics shown so far, mammon doesnt seem to be the type to betray his own either. but demons cant lie.
then comes down to the question; when did leamas get planted with the seed? was it before he met satan and the squad? is it bc he has been changing into an angel that he can now lie to sow discord between kings?
or was this the instance where he was slipped the seed?? 🤔 the former where it was pre-meeting satan seems more plausible.
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he also spoke about the key so obsessively like how an angel would speak about god.
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just what is the key? how is it connected to solomon? and to solomon's descendants? and to god and solomon's disappearances? and why does a assuming low level demon know about it but satan a king and sitri a noble, not know about it?? does beelzebub know about it? if beelzebub does, then why doesnt he tell the other kings? why is leamas keeping this a secret from satan and sitri and possibly everyone else? 🤔🤔
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desperate-daydream · 9 months
Text
☂️ Umbrella Academy
❀ Five Hargreeves x male reader ⚣︎
A/N: @fandomz-brainrot you asked and here it is: the part two of "Together, we will save the world"
tags/warnings: meet the sibs, set in season 1 still, reader basically insults the sibs, I changed it a bit what happened etc., top/protective reader
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Together, we will save the world pt. 2
The boy - who had finally told you that he was called Five - really didn‘t let go of your hand. And that was good because you would‘ve probably walked on the street without noticing while you listened to a summary of how he got here.
It blew your mind. And then you remembered having seen some of the old comics about the umbrella academy not even long ago. The boy you found cute was basically a superhero. 
He just finished with the story when you arrived at an expensive looking house with a fence and double doors. Five dragged you inside and the first thing you noticed was the staircase - plus a damn chandelier.
„Wow.“ It was the first thing you said since he had taken your hand.
„Precisely, yes“, sadly he let go of your hand as he said that.
„Five?“, a man‘s voice called from.. somewhere in this house.
„Yes!“, he looked annoyed already.
And suddenly you were met with several people - adults around thirty. „Five, where were you?“, one of them stepped closer to take a look at him worriedly, „Are you okay?“
„I‘m alright, Viktor“, he moved his head away from his outreached hand. Then he noticed you. While he had asked, the others had come closer too and noticed you as well.
A man in all black looked at you suspiciously. „Who‘s this?“ He pointed a small knife at you which creeped you out only a little bit. 
Five sighed. „Put the damn knife down, Diego. This is (Y/N), he saved my life.“
Then he looked at you again. “(Y/N), these are my siblings. Viktor, Diego, Klaus, Allison and Luther.“ He pointed at each of them while he said their names.
You did a small nod and an „Hi“ escaped your mouth. Viktor and the guy called Klaus (if you remembered right) were the only ones who smiled back at you. The others were still wary of you. 
„Okay, but what happened?“, the tall woman - Allison - asked, „He saved your life?“
„Yes“, Five started walking and signaled for you to follow him. So you did. The others did too. „Remember the commission I told you about. The Handler sent some agents after me. I was on the run - and to be honest on the verge of passing out.“
You had reached the kitchen and Five went over to make a sandwich with peanut butter and marshmallows. Only then did you notice that you hadn’t eaten before you were almost shot earlier. You leaned on the counter as you watched him and crossed your arms.
Five continued. „He got me to calm down and recharge for a moment but then they showed up and long story short without him you‘d probably have to bury me now.“
He was almost finished doing his sandwich when you spoke up with a smirk on your face. „You‘re gonna eat that?“ 
„Yes, want one too?“, he looked at you as he bit into it.
„Honestly, yes.“ He shoved the ingredients over to you and you went to work.
Meanwhile his siblings started talking again. But you only listened halfway - it was majorly a lot of raised voices so it seemed like nothing too important. Instead you looked at Five. 
You noticed the small bruises on his face that probably went to cluster all over his body. His clothes were ripped and well.. not clean. And another thing you noticed was his habit of going through his hair which made it look really disheveled. 
Your mind wandered off to other reasons his hair could look like this involving you and a bed - or literally any place. But you quickly directed your mind back to the still arguing siblings. 
And then you noticed how Five‘s siblings gave him the fault for all of this chaos - which was absolutely not right. You spoke up with a frown on your face. 
„Hey, this really isn‘t fair and it‘s not true. Don‘t you dare go and blame the one person here who actually tries to do something against the shit happening right now. He came back to save your unthankful asses and doesn’t even get a single pause since then because you can‘t work together like you‘re still in elementary. Have you actually looked at him for once - he almost died today. And it won‘t get better if you keep on behaving like that because then he surely goes outside again to overwork himself even more.“ 
You turned away from his siblings and gently took his hand. Then you went for the door - on the way you grabbed the sandwich you hadn’t eaten yet. 
When you were out the door you still didn’t let go of him. „Where in this weird thing of a house is your room?“ 
He directed you to a room that could‘ve been anyone‘s because of the little to none personal belongings. But the walls were plastered with all kinds of mathematical equations that you couldn‘t understand at all. From what you had heard out of his telling earlier these were most likely his own. 
„Have your siblings always been like that?“, you looked around the room and then decided to sit down in a chair in front of the desk. 
„Well, we‘ve never really had some kind of sibling-bond I guess. The old man was focussed on training and educating us so we‘d be able to fight and be elite, not on making us feel loved or like a part of a real family.“, he shrugged his shoulders, „It‘s been like that for our whole life.. well, apparently until I vanished and the others ran away.“ 
For a long time you both said nothing. You ate your sandwich - that actually wasn’t so bad - and Five looked out the window. 
“What you thinking about?”, you asked.
“Why are you suspecting that I’m thinking about something specific right now?”, he still didn’t directly look at you but you noticed a quick look from the corner of his eyes. 
“Because you have a certain look on your face and - from my observations - you seem like a person with a non-stop brain.” 
“That’s.. quite right.” 
He finally looked at you and his dark brown eyes pierced into your own. You felt a shiver down your spine and stood up without even noticing at first. But you didn’t stop and the other boy didn’t seem like he wanted to stop you either so you went to sit closely next to him. Now you two looked out the window together. 
After some time - you honestly didn’t know how much - you felt Five’s head lay on your shoulder. First unsure and slowly, ready to draw back if needed, but when he noticed that you didn’t have anything against it he relaxed. 
You heard and felt the deep sigh that left him and his frame relaxed more and more against you. You took a deep breath before being brave and slowly putting your hand on his thigh. He tensed a little and you were already about to pull your hand back but then he put his own on yours to keep it where it was. As a last brave step, that almost made your heart burst, you put your head on top of his. 
You sat there basically snuggled against each other for a long while. 
(And if later, when his siblings came in to apologize, they saw you both quickly separate after almost falling asleep on each other, they didn’t say anything about it. They would however be secretly very interested in this developing relationship between their overworked brother and this one guy who gave him happiness, protected him and reminded him to take breaks.)
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giggly-squiggily · 10 months
Note
Hi Squiggly! It's the bish anon who requested the Kokushibo x reader for tickletober! I saw your mini-vacation post. I hope you're doing better...If you feel up to it, can you please consider writing a 'cuddle' fic with soft lee! Kokushibo x Ler! Reader? I'm sorry, the six-eyed terrorist makes me melt more than he should😭. Get well soon!
Koku my beloved! I've gotcha covered, anon! :D It's time we give our six-eyed demon some much needed love, shall we? :3
Cloud 9 (Taglist)
@cupcake-spice13, @thatbigbisexual29, @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022, @backy-san @t-wordiiish, @sarahmaystock5578
“Good evening.”
Kokushibou froze, the sheath holding his sword halfway towards its destined spot. Slowly, he peered at you, finding you standing by with a furious glare. “Good evening, (Y/N)...did you sleep well?”
“Not at all. I was too busy worrying about my husband. See- he hadn’t come to bed yesterday morning. Or the previous morning. Or the mornings before that.” You kept your voice low, but your temper sharpened each statement until you were practically biting them out. “From what I’ve gathered- he’s been out training from dawn till dusk.”
“That…certainly is an issue.” Kokushibou placed the sword against the wall, turning so he was facing you. An outsider would likely find this comical- the highest rank moon being scolded by a lesser demon. Of course- Kokushibou would have had their head for even thinking of you as anything less than his equal. Regardless of hierarchy and Lord Muzan’s blood; to Kokushibou, you were just as strong as he.
And in a game of wills; even stronger.
“Yes, it is. Tell me, my dear husband- have you already forgotten what you promised me?” You tried to keep your anger, but the longer you looked at him the more soft you felt. He was clearly ragged, the visible skin along his arms bruised and scratched. His clothes were dirty, and his hair was a wild mess of twigs and leaves. It was his own fault, sure, but that didn’t mean you were completely shut off from the visible aches.
“...That I’d return when the sun began to rise so I could rest and in turn spend time with you.” Guilt touched his eyes, and he bowed his head in apology. “Forgive me, (Y/N).”
Your anger melted away as you shook your head, walking to your husband. “I always do. But my forgiveness isn’t going to help you in the long run. If you overwork yourself, you’ll be sloppy. Isn’t that what you told me when you were training me the first time?” You reached out, tracing his face with your hands. “Come on- let’s get you out of these clothes and into something comfortable. I’ve already got a bath running.”
~~~
“I can do this myself, (Y/N)...”
Despite the words, Koku’s voice lacked any real argument. You sat behind him in the bath, combing through his mangled hair gently as you removed the various twigs within. It took some mild persuasion to get him to let you help.  “You’re my husband; don’t be so modest,” You teased, even though you knew why he hesitated on you seeing him nude. The water reflected the scars along his skin, old and fading- full of stories. You didn’t pry about them; instead choosing to wait for the day he was comfortable sharing.
“Nope. I haven’t seen you in days. This is our time.” You smiled as you pulled the last tangle free, watching his hair pool around him in soft waves. “Besides- for all that patience of yours, you’d give up not even halfway with your hair.”
“Hm.” Was all he said in response. You grinned as you picked up a washcloth. Victory was yours.
After he was bathed, dressed and clean, you pulled him along to your bed, pushing him gently into his side before sitting behind him once more, tugging at his robe. “Take this off- I have something for you.”
“Didn’t you just insist I put this on?” He asked as he did as told, shedding the upper half of the robe. “So indecisive.”
“Hush.” You pinched his bicep before reaching over, gathering up a bottle of oil. Daki snagged it on her last mission but hated the smell, giving it to you because “It seems like something you’d like.” Sure enough- you found it pleasant. “I’m gonna give you a massage.”
“Oh?” Kokushibou blinked, looking at the bottle curiously. “(Y/N)...You do know we regenerate. Muscle aches are no longer a thing for any of us.”
“There’s more to massage than just ache relief, love.” You told him after he investigated the bottle, returning it to you with suspicious eyes. “You’ll see what I mean.”
Kokushibou didn’t argue as you gathered his hair up, tossing it over his shoulder and out of the way. Nor did he complain when you pressed your now oil bearing hands into his upper back, gliding them across his skin. If anything- he seemed to have suddenly lost the will to fight, his tense shoulders easing almost immediately.
“Feels good?” You asked, grinning when he groaned in response. Another victory for you.
~~~
By the end of your massage, Kokushibou was puddy in your hands.
Lying beside you, he didn’t argue as you scooted closer, pressing his head against your chest as you stroked his hair, humming a song you remembered from your time being human. There was a twinge of sadness with it, but it was nothing compared to the sight you got to witness.
Kokushibou felt so sturdy yet so vulnerable in your arms. You didn’t say anything when tears dripped against your chest, only wiped them away as they came. Just how long had it been since someone held him? The thought made your soul hurt far worse.
As if sensing this, you felt your husband squeeze you tighter, his way to reassure you. He always seemed to know when your mind began to wonder. No words were exchanged, you just leaned down and kissed his crown.
Eventually, his tears dried and the ache you felt had eased. The two of you were just lying there, entrapped in each other's arms. You were happy- it felt so good to finally have him back with you.
At the same time however, all the petty revenge schemes you made when he was gone came to mind. You were no longer angry, yes- but that didn’t mean you were completely over it. Feeling sneaky, you let the hand stroking his hair drift down to his back, keeping your touch feather light as you traced along the back of his ribs.
“Hm!” Kokushibou made a noise resembling a muffled laugh. Then another. Eventually, you felt him shake against you, muffled giggles creeping out his throat as you carried on tracing his ribs up and down. He didn’t pull away and you didn’t press in- neither of you wanted to break the serenity of this moment. “(Y/N), pleahhahahahse.”
“This is what you get for overworking yourself.” You told him simply, kissing his crown once more as you danced your fingers over his lower back. Again- you earned a round of muffled giggles, the sound deep and rich that vibrated your bones in the best way. “I missed you- and I missed your laugh. Don’t leave me alone like that again.”
“I prohooohohmise! I prohooohohmise, my mohoohoohohon, now stahahhhap thathahhahat!” He laughed out, relaxing once more when you stopped, returning to his hair. “Heh…you are a devil, (Y/N).”
“I’m your devil.” You smiled, feeling him take your chin in his hands before his lips found yours, kissing you deeply.
“And I love you for that. I’ll…be more aware. Of my limits going forward.” He traced your face with his thumb, taking it in like it was the only sight in the world worth looking at. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”
“It’s okay…as long as you come home, that’s what matters.” You pulled him into you, returning to your serene state. “I love you, my great swordsman.”
“As do I, my beloved moon.”
Thanks for reading!
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after-witch · 2 years
Text
Missing the Forest for the Trees [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Title: Missing the Forest for the Trees [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]
Synopsis: You met Chrollo on a no-frills camping trek. Why does he think you want to be showered in lavish gifts?
Word Count: 1347
Notes: male reader, yandere, unhealthy relationship dynamic, implications of stalking 
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The sight of the box sitting on your dining room table does nothing but make anxiety prickle in your stomach. Chrollo had been in your apartment again and he dropped off another present.
It felt like your life had become nothing but gifts lately. All useless, expensive things.  Too bad he never gets the hints that none of this is even remotely "you."
You live in a modest apartment, in a modest area, with modest things. You do all this for a reason.
The gifts weren’t the only thing bothering you lately. It was his attitude. It was the way you suggested getting some local grub and he insisted on taking you to some fine dining restaurant where you couldn't pronounce anything on the menu; the way you suggested a camping vacation (what better way to recreate the way you first met?) and he started showing you rooms at a luxury resort.
It was the look on his face when he did all these things; a look that said you should be impressed and grateful.
It had become easier to see lately that Chrollo didn’t understand you. Not really.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
A sound leaves your throat that seems to get stuck halfway through and you begin to hack, choking on your own spit.
“Chrollo--” Your hand goes to your chest, an almost comical gesture, as you spot Chrollo standing at the entrance to the hallway that leads to your bedroom. He must have been in the bathroom when you came in. “What the hell,” you manage, voice crackling as you continue to cough.  
He approaches you, patting your back half-heartedly. When you regain your breath, you pluck the box off the table. It’s a small box. Maybe another watch.
You lift the top and… it’s a key. You hold it in your fingers, shiny and cold.
You raise your eyebrows.
He smiles, charming as ever.
“You said we should talk about moving in together, didn’t you?”
The feeling, the one you had in the woods, begins to creep its way back into your arms.
He taps his finger on the box, and you see that there’s a folded piece of paper tucked inside. You swear you hear a buzzing in your head, some low primal warning, before you unfold it.
It’s a luxury condo listing. The price is listed and the sight of all those numbers makes your jaw immediately tense.
You feel suddenly, wholly pissed.
“What the fuck, Chrollo?”
His mouth twitches.
“No, I mean it. What the fuck?” Your voice begins to raise, your tone more frantic, as everything comes crashing down in one big emotional heap. “Do you seriously know nothing about me? About how I want to live?”
Chrollo’s smile has now flattened to something more serious.
“I’m offering you a lifestyle beyond what most people dream of but will never hope to really attain.” He says this like you should know this already, like you should have simply accepted it.
You clench your fist tightly around the key. Then you look around at your apartment, the assortment of things you’ll never use, and you let out a deep sigh.
“Not me. Haven’t you noticed I don’t use any of the stuff you give me?” You almost think you can see gears whirling behind Chrollo’s eyes as you speak. “Don’t you remember how we met?” You gesture to yourself, to your body, to some figurative version of your soul. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about gold watches and suits that cost more than I make in a few months. I’m happy with just having a roof over my head and food in my stomach.”
You walk over to your bookshelf, now stuffed with expensive hardcovers and trinkets. You pick up the gold watch Chrollo gave you last week, a gold thing studded with diamonds.
“This--all this stuff isn’t what life should be about. It should be about…” You close your eyes and shake your head. “It should be about actually living. Experiencing things, even if you aren’t wearing some Egyptian silk suit while you do it.”
You keep your eyes on the watch as you continue.
“And if you think that buying some expensive-beyond-fucking-belief condo without telling me and expecting me to live there with you without any discussion is what our life should be then…” Your fingers fiddle with the buckle, probably Italian leather. “Maybe we don’t need to be together.”
There is a long, heavy silence. And then Chrollo speaks.
“You’re right.”
It’s not what you expected to hear, and you finally force yourself to look at him. He looks thoughtful as his eyes meet yours.
“You’re right,” he repeats. “I seem to have misjudged what might appeal to you during our courtship. I can correct that now, and we’ll continue on.”
“Listen,” you urge, trying to keep your tone civil. “I think you should go--”
His hand is around your upper arm suddenly, and for the first time since that night around the campfire, you do feel afraid. You’re strong--you have to be, with what you like to do. But there’s something unnatural in his grip that makes you realize you can’t get away.
Chrollo’s voice is calm, almost soothing. “I can show you things you’d never see otherwise.” He smiles, softly, an attempt at humor. “And you don’t have to wear a silk suit.”
Does he think it’s charming? Does he think you’ll be taken in? No, there’s something wrong here, something that has always been wrong, and it’s Chrollo’s tight grip that seems to give you clarity.
Your relationship had been off from the start. From the moment you met him in the woods. Camping, he said, just like you--but he’d been wearing a dressy shirt, hadn’t he? You had been tired and a bit starved for human contact, you didn’t question his story that he was with a group and got separated from them.
You didn’t stop to think too hard about his outfit. You didn’t stop to think about how you’d chosen a location deep into the woods, far away from any spaces where groups would think to set up camp. You didn’t think about the feeling you’d had as you trekked through the woods a week prior, the feeling of being watched. You thought it was an animal, but now…
From there, it was a blur. Phone numbers and addresses--no, it was only your information given out--exchanged. Gifts, and dates, and kisses and sex. But everything on Chrollo’s terms; what he wanted, and what he thought you should want.
“Chrollo.” Your voice is thick and you swallow. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. We’re not compatible.”
His grip tightens, and you really do try to struggle now, a primal reaction. But he’s so goddamn strong, and you can’t budge.
“We can be.” His words are firm and simple and they make an ice cold fear drop in your chest. “It will take some time, but I’m confident things will change..”
“I don’t want to,” you murmur, still desperate to pull away. “Chrollo, I want you to leave.”
He ignores you and reaches for your hand, still clenched in a fist around the key, and pulls your fingers away. The key is slipped into his pocket with ease.
“I’ll sell that place, if you like. I don’t normally stay so long in one location, anyway. You can come with me, instead.” Every word makes you feel heavy, more afraid. “You did want to travel, didn’t you?”
You shake your head, but he ignores it.
You’re pulled closer to him, and whereas once you might have welcomed the intimacy, you want nothing more than to be on the opposite side of the room. He brings himself closer until you can feel his breath on your face when he talks.
 “You said life is an experience. Then let me show you how I live.”
Both of his arms grip yours now, keeping you in place as he leans in and presses his lips against yours.
The kiss is salty, bitter, and warm. 
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notyour-valentine · 9 months
Text
A Fair Exchange XL ~ Aemond Targaryen x Reader/OC (Angst)
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[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist] [House of the Dragon Masterlist]
All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Summary: Aemonds proposal puts our Princess in a tough spot
Warning: bullying, blood, mention and threat of violence and death, mutilation, mention of torture and death, childbirth, injury, misogyny. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)
[Series Masterlist]
Previously
Part XL
“It is a good plan. It is the best we have to make sure you get to safety. Deliver Jaehaera to Helaena for me, will you?”, he asked, giving her hands a little squeeze.
There was such finality in his voice.
“What about you?”, she asked.
He shrugged.
“I’ll find my way out of Dorne.”
All the while he had avoided meeting her gaze, his head lowered, his eye downcast, each word coming out mumbled yet certain.
She wanted to hit him. The urge came suddenly, from somewhere deep inside her, right along with a desire to scream. She wanted to slap him across the face with all her might, to shake him until his teeth rattled, to scream at him until he saw sense again.
But no matter how a blood curdling screech itched at the back of her throat, she couldn’t, not without drawing attention to them.
“How?”, she demanded to know through clenched teeth, not trusting her voice with much more lest her inner turmoil seize control of it to both their detriment.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reminding her that he was still wearing his boots, his heavy leather boots that seemed glued to his feet.
The fact that they still graced his feet now was proof that this decision was not a spur of the moment thing. Otherwise he would have left them with Luke and Jaehaera, for, despite their uses, they were not for swimming.
Now there was no doubt that he had planned this, had led her on in a game of make believe all the while knowing he was going to abandon them, going to betray her.
“How?”, she repeated, her voice trembling as all of her began to shake.
His hands had held her own gently but now hers tightened to the point it made them wince, but she refused to lessen her grip.
“Why do you care?”, he snapped, a lightning of rage appearing in his eye for but a heartbeat.
Why do you care?
How could he ask that? Now? After everything? After stilling her shaking hands when they were still coated in blood? After dropping the body of the guard into the sea? After all they had done, all they had seen, all they had survived to get here.
And now he sought to just leave her…just like that, without a fight, without a struggle, without a heroic last stand. No, Aemond Targaryen was content to simply slip away into the night, to leave her and the others to their fates.
“Go now. Luke is waiting.”, he urged, almost gently, but she could tell his tone was off. He was a fool if he thought she would fall for his feigned lightheartedness.
They hadn’t come this far to separate. Not now. Not yet.
“No.”, she said, glaring up at him in pure defiance and resentment.
“What did you say?”, he asked, leaning in as if it had been the volume of her voice that caused his confusion.
“I will not go.”, she stated, searching his face for any trace of a reaction.
She could see the quiver of his lip, the twitch in his jaw muscle, the narrowing of his eye.
“You have to! Luke is waiting, and he won’t leave without you!”
By the sound of him she was the greatest fool in the Seven Kingdoms for not already being halfway to the boat. How comical, since he was the only one acting the jester, and a poor one at that.
“He’ll have to wait because I won’t go alone.”, she insisted.
She could see him bristle at her word,his eye darting out into the darkness as if to make out the ship in the black of night.
“You are putting all our lives at risk with your stubbornness.”, he snarled, anger laced in with his impatience.
“The only one being stubborn is you! What in seven hells are you thinking? You said it yourself - this is the only way.”
The look on his face told her that he still believed that, and that he had no alternative plan lined up, that he had intended on leaving them to her fate while returning to complete uncertainty.
“You don’t understand-”
“You’re right I don’t!”, she snapped, cutting him off. “And we don’t have time for you to so graciously share your genius!”
The breath she took had the aim of calming her. It did little of the sort but calmed her voice.
“You said you know how to swim? The motions…?”, she asked.
Aemond hesitated for a moment before giving the faintest of nods. “But it’s not enough.”
“It will have to be enough.”, she insisted. “You know the motions. It’s the same over and over.”
She glanced down at him. “Besides, you are…trained, are you not?”
He had been strong enough to carry Luke through Sunspear at night for hours, had held her as she lowered them down the castle walls, had guarded and protected them only to shrink away from the sea of all things in fear.
“Why are you being difficult?”, Aemond hissed, yanking his hand away.
She reached up and grabbed his arm.
“Because I refuse to abandon you!”
He scoffed and shook his head.
“You are not abandoning me. In any case, you are abandoning Luke, who will-”
“Oh shut up!”, she snapped at him, as loud as the night would allow. It was far too easy to see through his ploy, to guilt her into leaving him behind in order for Luke, to force her to make a choice she didn’t have to make in the first place.
“Shut up, Aemond!”, she hissed, the man in question looking baffled at her insolence. He deserved more than rudeness now, for his idiocy. “I can’t and I won’t, not after everything.”
She shook her head. “We’ll go back together, go home together. Like we said!”
She had repeated that mantra over and over as if to speak it into existence, and if she backtracked even slightly on her promise to the heavens, she feared they would yank it all from her grasp and send them all into damnation.
“Don’t do this to me, Aemond!”, she asked, her voice cracking under the strain.
Whether she had worn him down or whether her voice failing her that made Aemond fall silent, she did not know, but he was silent once more, glancing at his feet.
She could feel he was scared.
Reaching up, she barely brushed her hand against his cheek to look at her.
“We’ll be fine, Aemond!”, she promised him, reaching for his hand and pulling him to the edge. They would be fine. They would have to be.
She sat down on the edge, with him next to her, and the fact that he did nearly made her weep with relief.
“Your boots…they’ll weigh you down.”, she said.
For a dreadful moment she feared that this would change his mind but then he reached down, undid the clasps and slipped them off one by one.
Once they sank to the bottom, she pushed herself off of the edge and into the water. At this time of night, it was refreshingly cool. Her hand remained on the edge, waiting with baited breath.
Slowly, Aemond let himself slip into the water as well, inhaling sharply.
Instead of pushing herself off and beginning to swim at her pace, she waited for Aemond to begin.
After a nod from her, he began, with strong and steady breaststrokes, though not nearly as quick as she would have liked.
He was slow, but he swam, and that would have to be good enough.
She let him set the pace as she looked out into the night, searching for the occasional glimmer of light that would be their own little lighthouse.
~
Aemond tried desperately to remember every lesson he had ever had, to breathe in when he pulled his arms back, and out when he pushed them forward. Or had it been the other way?
He could not tell whether they had swam for but a moment, or half an eternity. All he felt was the tightness in his chest, the taste of salt on his lips and the stinging around his sapphire eye.
That was the waves doing that came, hitting the side of his face, making him gasp and cough for air.
How anyone would ever voluntarily do this, was beyond him. There was even a religion on the Iron Islands, where they worshipped the drowned god, leading all their priests out to see and holding them under until they were closer to death than life.
Aemond recalled the images he had seen of this deity, with a grey beard laced with seaweed, with shells and driftwood intertwined, looming under the sea and feasting on sailors who fell prey to the dangers of the sea, some by accident, some by vanity.
It was nearly pitch black, but Aemond could almost see the red eyes looking up from beneath the waves, as if to await him.
The thought spurred him on to swim faster, quicker, moving his legs and arms as much as he could in an attempt to just get on.
But the opposite was happening. It was as if he was stuck, frozen between the waves as his chest grew ever tighter, and his limbs ever heavier.
It was as if a weight had reached for him from below, pulling him down.
He thrashed to get it away from him as someone called his name, but Aemond did not know if that came from the heavens above or the Drowned God below.
While still kicking, he felt a touch on his arm and pulled away so forcefully, his head broke through the surface, his mouth filling with salt water.
He thrashed more, in an attempt to put distance between him and anything that was touching him, dragging him down, but the more he tried, the fewer the gasps of air became.
The salt burned in his eyes, on his hands, in the back of his throat, and when he tried to breathe, only water filled his mouth and Aemond knew he was drowning.
There was no longer a way to know where up was, not in this darkness. The skies were just as black as the pits of the sea and both had conspired to trap him forever.
Everything was dark, everything was a hell created just to torment him. And Aemond knew he deserved it. He deserved hell for killing the man tonight, and the fat one back in Dorne, for being a resentful son and a jealous brother, for tormenting her and causing her pain.
And this was a hell just for him.
Still, Aemond was still kicking, his arms flaring at everything and nothing until he found something his hands could coil around, something he could pull himself towards. Upwards, he realised as he used all his weight, upwards.
Breaking through the surface,, he gasped for air, only to realise he was sinking again.
Bubbles slipped past his lips, wasting precious air as he searched around blindly for what he had used to push him up, finding it once more, or something else, what mattered was he found something to brace himself against to reach the surface once more.
Something, anything - only Aemond knew there was nothing. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to pull himself up with, unless that something was her.
If I’m pushing myself up on her, I’m pushing her down, he realised. If I’m pulling myself to the surface using her, I’m drowning her in my stead.
He felt the all familiar heat of torment rise inside him, the kind that would make his skin burn, his chest tighten and his hands tremble, only this time he had no air to give.
I’m killing her, he thought. I’m drowning her. My hands are the ones that end her life.
Just like in his nightmares, only they weren’t nightmares, not anymore.
White dots began to appear in his vision, shining brightly against the darkness. They were familiar to him from frightful nights past and he forced himself to focus on them, as he felt his body grow heavier.
Don’t fight it, he told himself. Fighting means dragging her down with me.
At least, if it wasn't too late.
His body was aflame with desperation, wishing to fight until he had no more, to put up a heroic last stand against the elements, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, but at what cost?
No, he couldn’t…he wouldn’t…if it was the last thing he ever did, Aemond would not drag her down with him.
If he hadn’t been surrounded by nothing but water, Aemond Targaryen may have wept.
And maybe he did, for only when the droplets ran into his mouth past his parted lips, did he realise he could still breathe, despite the choking, wretched coughs that shook his whole body.
Though it was a fruitless effort in the water, his body attempted to keel over in an attempt to aid the pressure on his upper chest as he gagged and splattered.
Only then did he realise there was a hand on his jaw, holding it in a firm grip. And another on the back of his head.
Panic surged inside him until he realised the hands were neither pushing nor pulling him, just holding him.
And the hands were warm.
In a world of cold water and biting salt that tore at his lips, buried itself into the scar around his lost eye, while scorching his lungs, those hands were warm..
As he coughed, gushes of salt water ran down his chin and over the hands that held his head steady. And the coughing stayed even after the water subsided.
Yet the ache remained, but with more frequent breaths, despite his racing heartbeat, he felt his senses returning.
"I'm sorry.", He gasped, his throat aching with any attempt to speak.
Another wave of coughs came over him, making his chest seize up.
As soon as this fit subsided, he tried again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.", He mumbled.
"Can you hear me, Aemond?", She asked. "I need you to answer me, with words."
"Yes.", He said, the sound of her voice feeling as warm to him as her hands, although it too was breathless and strained.
"I've got you. It's alright. I've got you, you just have to stay still.", She assured him. "Relax your body, I've got you."
He tried, but he couldn't. His whole body was aching, and each splash of water against his face made the bubbling fear boil over.
"I've got you!", She assured him, and though he could not see her, he heard her voice, could feel her hands on his face, and hear her breaths.
They were as steady as if dictated to by a metron, and in the absence of her words, they were all he could rely on. And he did, awaiting their whispering sounds, counting them, and later, trying to sync his shaking breaths to it.
Only after a while did Aemond gather his senses to realise they were moving, or rather, she was moving them.
"I'm sorry.", He whispered again.
He didn't dare ask to be let go for fear he would slip from her grasp into the darkness beneath, but he had to help her.
With her hands holding him up, her legs were the ones doing all the work and once he thought on it, he could feel them kicking beneath him.
"I'm sorry.", He said again, trying to move his legs to help her.
"You're well, Aemond?", She asked. "Can you hear me?"
"I can hear you.", He assured her.
"We're nearly there. Were nearly there, Aemond.", she promised him.
The first time he saw the flicker of light he didn't trust his senses, remembering tales of shipwrecked sailors seeing ships come nearly daily, as their weakened minds sought to torment them.
But she seemed determined to follow or, and she was the one moving them both.
When her hand left the back of his head, icy fear crashed over him like an avalanche, only to realise she had reached for something that lay in the water, pulling the rope towards them.
"Can you keep yourself upright for a moment?", She asked. "Only a moment, then I can help you again. Just move your legs steadily!",
He tried, for her, but the absence of her warmth made his heart thunder so fiercely he feared it would rip from his chest.
In the darkness he could barely make out more than her silhouette as she reached around him, fastening the rope around his waist.
How she made the knot in the water, without view or vision, he did not know, but it held firm.
As his hands closed around the rope, he felt more relieved than ever to feel the rough fibre rub against his palm. To him there had never been a sweeter sting, for he could feel it was connected to something, and when he pulled at the rope, he could pull himself forward, inch by painful inch until he realised they were almost within touching distance of the hull of a ship.
Her hands brushed along its end until she found what she had been looking for.
"Here!", She told him, her voice slightly slurred as she guided his hand to the end of a rope ladder.
Aemond wanted nothing more than to finally feel anything beneath his feet than water, yearning for the stability of even the thinnest of woods, but something told him to still his haste.
"You first!", He told her, moving to the side slightly.
He was facing her dragon eye, white and amber even in the night, of the other though, he only caught a glimpse through her half hooded eye and that looked nearly completely white.
Her hands, that had tied the rope around his waist with such certainty, now fumbled to find a grip, any grip of their own.
But she pulled herself up ahead of him.
Aemond could feel her limbs trembling before him, and saw her hands slipping again and again.
T'was on the third or fourth step when her hands slipped once more, only this time her footing wasn't strong enough to catch her.
She crashed down into Aemond, who grunted at the impact, his hand twisting itself around the rope ladder to now hold both their weight as the other grabbed a fistful of her shirt, pulling her up only so much as to trap her between the ship and his body to keep her from falling.
At the best of times it would have been an easy thing to carry her, but these were far from the best of times and he wasn't even sure he had enough strength to pull himself up the ship, let alone her too.
"Luke!", He called upward into the darkness. "You have to help her!"
The sight of his nephew appearing on the side of the ship nearly brought him to tears.
"Get her up!", Aemond pleaded, pushing her up as much as he was still able to.
Her body was limp and trembling, and he wasn't even sure she was able to hear him.
Once he could, Luke grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up out of his sight.
Aemond leaned his head against the ship, taking a few breaths.
He was beyond exhausted, but he couldn't rest just yet. A few more steps, that was all it was, but just slipping off into slumber was so tempting it took all his will to grit his teeth and pull himself up step by agonising step.
When he finally felt his hands on the edges he pulled himself up and let his drained body tip over, hitting the deck in a thump.
But it was the deck, and that was all that mattered.
There he lay as he had fallen, for a handful of heartbeats of maybe a hundred more. It was the feeling of movement to his side that made him look.
He had held her for but a moment, but she had held him for Gods know how long, and she was smaller than he was, and frailer, so much frailer.
Every muscle and bone screamed in protest as he pushed himself up, stumbling over to where Luke had laid her on her back.
"To her side.", He mumbled, his knee hitting the deck. "It'll help her breathe."
He had learned from his hours in the training yard, from pushing his body well beyond the suitable, to the point of aching limbs and restless stomachs.
She would get worse if they didn't steady her properly.
He angled her knee, and her arm as he brought her to lie on her side, placing his head under the side of hers so it would lie on the hard floor.
With the other he reached for her neck, feeling the rapid and racing pulsing of her heart.
"I'm sorry.", He whispered again
~
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts xx
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