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raayllum · 1 year

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cube hostage exchange theory from a meta standpoint is exceedingly funny to me because one of the reasons i talk about it as often as i do is because there’s just... so much to talk about regarding it? like

at this time, callum and viren are each other’s primary foils, with rayla and aaravos being each other’s primary foils. this was true even before S4, but especially afterward, with rayla and aaravos both hunting mages as prey (viren and callum respectively) and with the viren-callum parallels being ramped up, just as a quick example.

the cube glowing with the star primal, and indeed rayla having a pet monkey that’s connected to the star arcanum, just happens to show up in a big dramatic halo of moonlight moments after callum says “in darkness” but we know the cube also has negative associations so it can’t be wholly positive framing, and soren explicitly spells this out for us with rayla’s return: “now you’re back. that’s kinda good. and kinda bad.”

for s1-s3 the cube was the primary carrier of the game motif, with only one (1) mention of a game directly to aaravos. now in s4, that motif has moved from the background to being more directly and overtly connected to aaravos. rayla is the first person to call it a toy and in an episode in which we see an elf toy that is explicitly supposed to look like her.

callum’s suffocation / drowning motif was because of dark magic in s2 and then brought back in s4. rayla has always been connected with water. they almost drowned together in TTM. the “you will discover the cube’s secrets” line pans over earth and ocean only, indicating the cube’s secrets will first start to be revealed in ocean. the moon literally affects the tides

if rayla flat out refuses to kill callum no matter the stakes (“you let him live but you killed us all”) even if she frees him it still meant she put him over the world / they can’t get off completely scot free. they’ve always been very mutual (rayla saving him from sol regem in 3x01 at risk to herself / callum saving her in 3x09 at risk to himself in an even more extreme way, arguably) so callum would have to ‘repay’ that in some capacity to keep that mutuality: “i hope it was worth it to you putting everyone’s lives in danger”

the fact that rayla’s drawing and her getting the cube for him in the first place is even the reason he actually has it in show deserves to be a point on its own because like. callum could’ve found it while looking for her in the lodge. ezran could’ve nabbed it. the cube never helps them plot wise until 3x08 it could’ve even just been presented with harrow’s letter and let 2x08 do the symbolic heavy lifting with the keys like. but no. they decided it had to be 1x04, the immediate ep after the very start of the story’s main arc, and it had to be rayla.

one of callum’s core flaws is that he’s reckless in pursuit of what he wants (magic) but even more reckless when it comes to protecting the people he loves, cue: running into what he thinks is a trap in 4x01 to protect ezran, jumping off the mountain for rayla, when he thinks he has even the barest trace of saving either of them. his tales of xadia bio quote (which i originally took with a delighted grain of salt but since feels more valid given other things that have already come to pass as mentions/foreshadowing for the sow itself) is “i’m beholden to my inner circle, not some silly kingdom” and “i value those close to me more than anyone or anything” which is 👀 bc thus far the only time we’ve seen that really play out is when he bent his morals in doing dark magic and when he chose to leave with ez & rayla in 1x03 to protect the egg and his baby brother. but it hasn’t come back since and certainly not on as big a scale as the quotes indicate (more than anyone means more than any other person / people after all)

rayla and callum still have unresolved conflict and 3/4 finales (with s1 being the sole exception) have always featured a very important moment and/or turning point in their relationship. while aaravos’ release could be pushed to s6 (either early s6 or late s6) for a more traditional plot structure it makes sense for him to be released in or by the end of 5x09 so that S6 can give everyone a chance to defeat him once he’s actually out (11th hour / darkest moment failure thing) and then successfully defeat him in S7. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

like oh you watch 1x04 and it’s their first bonding moment because “you called me a mage and that felt right.” you watch 1x05 and they have multiple instances of disagreeing whether something is worth something (the cube, rayla’s bravery, the boat) with callum always believing it is. you watch 1x09 and it’s foreshadowing callum’s connection to the moon arcanum. and so on and so forth

and almost none of this is touching on theme, or the way rayla (and basically only her) is woven deftly into callum’s journey as a mage in ways that ezran or any other character firmly is not, which is an entire other can of multi layered worms. thematically, the theory has even more evidence if you start pulling on generational parallels, and patterns, etc etc.

there’s a reason this has been a theory of mine for over two years now, precisely because what started out as a simple “huh what if” thought was something i kept founding new merit for, even - or especially when - i wasn’t looking for it in the first place

it truly is just me over turning every rock i can like “maybe i’ll find an alternative down here” and instead it’s just more

#tdp #rayllum #cube hostage exchange theory #feels like my own personal occam's razor #u know that bo burnham 'fuck it's the scarecrow again' bit? yeah #me calling the game motif a year in advance #me calling the salvation vs destruction dichotomy in rayllum's relationship since s2 #me noticing the light and dark motif and thinking 'oh that's neat' and not that it would be a major part of #s4's marketing or the season's thematic makeup either #like idk if i have (or even can have) all the right pieces #nevermind the right picture #but there's Something brewing that's gotta amalgamate all this y'know?#was thinking this over bc i do have a meta about the light and dark motif and that's mostly thematic #also not per se related to the cube

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wedding-shemp · 8 months

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i used to bristle at "kurt cobain didn't kill himself" theories because I thought they were insensitiv. and it IS insensitive, but I think the main reason I object to them now is that it's just plain stupid. like, there are high profile suicides where I can understand why people have unanswered questions, but this one seems just so patently obvious. Like "hm, a bipolar heroin addict who'd attempted suicide in the past APPEARS to have committed suicide. I wonder what happened?" yeah you're right it's a real thinker. let's get Poirot on the case and see if he can crack this one open

#like let's occam's razor this shit #i think he may have killed himself!#suicide cw #i am sorry to be so callous about a suicide but i think this is the sorriest excuse for a conspiracy theory #there is simply no meat on the bone on this one #these are the kinda guys to read an encyclopedia brown story and think 'this bugs meany guy has got an airtight alibi'#again. cannot empasize this enough #i am bothered by this as a conspiracy theory afficianado. i find it lacking!#the older i get the more of a certain type of old school crank i become #and DAMMIT i deserve better when it comes to clebrity death conspiracy theories!#i DEMAND more intersting mysterious deaths!

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asherasgayagenda · 1 year

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I have a hint I could give you but that would make it pretty obvious I think... all I'll say is don't focus too much on the timing

I might be eighty percent sure who you are now mutual-anon (or. I might be negative eighty percent off... who knows)

your use of ellipses sound like... someone I know (wink wink nudge nu- gets shot)

I wonder,,.. do you mean timing as in ''don't think about the context that the ask was sent alongside" or "don't think about what time it is for you"?

..hangon I fucking lied you talk nothing like who I think you are... at least not that I can find!??!?? this is frying my brain you Talk like how I'd imagine you to talk???!???? but you don't actually DO that!?!??!?!!!? whAT

#fishing for answers #fiisish fisiiiish fiiiisissih bulbublublublululu #but the thing is. by process of elimination theres nobody else #no way #whats it called #that thing #“no matter how unreasonable whatever thats left after all the unreasonable have been taken out must be the truth”????#is that occams razor or am i thinking of something else #i think im thinking of something else #is ashe rambling again #come back from the dive asks #guessing game #This was Not a very productive post hehe

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felikatze · 2 years

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witch's heart is still a truly visionary piece of media for unlocking the full potential of trans characters. "protagonist doesn't recognize her childhood friend because he's a man now." incredible. where else do you get stuff like this.

#feli speaks #spontaneously thinking abt my 'hell has hrt' post bcuz. yeah.#demons WILL make your life miserable and laugh at you but at least they'll give you T #thinking once again. what other explanation is there for noel #like. noel being trans is just occam's razor. it's the simplest explanation #sure you could argue for his shitty dad but consider. noel transgender

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pedropascallme · 1 year

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Occam’s Razor

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader; no use of y/n

Summary: “Philosophically speaking—logically speaking—Occam’s razor is a principle that recommends searching for explanations with the least possible set of elements. In other words, the best answer, the correct answer, is often the simplest.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is early 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, praise kink, daddy kink, sir kink, size kink if you squint, mild degradation, mild brattamer!Joel??, canon typical violence. If i missed anything please let me know!

~~~

Philosophically speaking—logically speaking—Occam’s razor is a principle that recommends searching for explanations with the least possible set of elements. In other words, the best answer, the correct answer, is often the simplest.

But more on that later.

Joel miller was a man of few words. Rugged; stoic to his core. Ellie, on the other hand, was perhaps the chattiest of Cathies you had ever met. When their little party picked you up, you and Ellie quickly fell into the habit of talking through and over anything and everything together.

Much to Miller’s chagrin.

Despite his stern demeanor, you couldn’t deny that Joel had that southern charm to him. He’d clear branches out of your way, place a hand on your back while you walked over uneven terrain, call you “darlin’” to get your attention. You’d be a fool not to notice how handsome he was; despite the obvious signs of age and trauma, despite the fact that he was quite a bit older than you, and despite the fact that he clearly had everything but you on his mind…there was no denying how gorgeous Joel miller was.

You liked to imagine he had a soft spot for you, liked to imagine that the hands on your shoulder when you climbed a steeper-than-expected hill were for more than steadying the both of you. You liked to think that when you made camp and he offered first shift it was because he cared. Maybe it was the way he looked at you during meals, as if he was undressing you with his eyes, that fed into your delusions. But, hey, the world had ended—crazier things could happen.

Still, you would be snapped out of your fantasies when he gave you the stink eye for encouraging Ellie’s dirty jokes. Your attempts to force him into a conversation were shot down almost every time. He had yelled at you more than once, most recently for “trying so damn hard to get us all killed”—his words—when you had almost tripped an old landmine that raiders had set up in a field. So maybe it was all in your head. You tried not to take his words to heart, choosing to focus on his kinder actions. But Joel had you hot and bothered. And, oftentimes, pissed.

Who gave a fuck. At least you had Ellie.

It had been days and days and days of walking and camping and then walking again. When you weren’t talking to and giggling with Ellie (the younger girl reading her joke book and getting you to guess every punchline) or staring at the back of Joel’s head as he led you onward, you reflected on why exactly the two travelers had let you stay with them. Why Joel had let you stick around. It wasn’t like he had to—hell, when Ellie had found you, Joel pulled a gun to your head, and Ellie had to convince him to bring you along. It took ten minutes for him to let his gun down, and it still felt like he hadn’t let his guard down around you. Maybe Joel thought the girl needed a more maternal figure, maybe he thought you, in your ratty jeans, at 20-something, could provide that energy. That seemed like the simplest answer, and it felt to you that Joel didn’t care for you all that much, despite your daydreams. You were grateful, really, you were, but there were times where you wished he would address the fact that you were there. A “thank you” would be appreciated.

You were pulled out of your own head when you heard Ellie gasp; immediately you reached for the gun on your hip, eyes darting up and around in search of whatever danger she had reacted to. Before you could do anything, though, you heard her speak:

“House!”

Your shoulders slumped a bit in relief that it had been a good gasp. But you still stood behind Joel with Ellie as you made your way forward to the house. Just in case. Joel held up his rifle, expecting the worst—he was always expecting the worst. Slowly but surely, you made it to the porch of the run-down cabin.

“Stay.” Joel’s voice was firm when you and Ellie got closer to the entrance. It was an order, even though it had been barely above a whisper. He walked through the front door as quietly as he could, keeping himself low and his gun high. After a few minutes he walked back out and stuck his thumb towards the entrance.

“S’alright. Doesn’t seem like anybody’s been here for a long while.”

Ellie ran into the house, no doubt in search of a bed to call her own for however long you three would be staying. You trudged up the steps behind her, looking around at the decomposition of the interior. It would’ve been a nice house to live in before.

_______________________

Night fell just as quickly as the day had begun.

By some miracle, despite the house’s decay, there was still running water. You relished the time you got to spend in the shower, rubbing all of the dirt and grime off your body and watching it swirl down the rusted drain.

Once dressed, you rounded the corner and sat on the dusty couch in the middle of what had once been a living room. You had spent so much time in the shower, you assumed Joel and Ellie would’ve been asleep by now, figuring that you would take first shift in your shiny clean state.

That was not the case.

Heavy footsteps came down the stairs, and by the time you turned yourself around to look at the source of the sound, Joel was already standing on the bottom of the staircase.

“Ellie’s asleep. I’ll take first watch.” He walked towards the couch, sitting himself down at an arm’s length from you.

“I can take first watch. I don’t mind. I’m up anyway.” You drew your legs into your chest, suddenly feeling a bit exposed in your white shirt as the excess water on your body from the shower had started to make the fabric see-through.

“M’up, too. Bedroom’s the first door on the right. Can’t miss it.”

“Miller, I can watch. Take a break.”

“Ain’t no breaks, darlin’.” Your heart skipped a bit when he used the nickname. It was embarrassing how one word could get under your skin and cause heat to rise in your cheeks so easily.

“Well, sure. But I’m taking this shift.” You didn’t know why you were arguing with him over something so futile. He would end up winning, anyway. Really, you just wanted an excuse to talk to him one-on-one. “So be on your way.”

“No, you’re not. Go upstairs.”

“Who died and made you king?” Those were fighting words, and you knew it.

“The whole fuckin’ world died, sweetheart.” You could tell you were getting to him. “Go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Joel Miller. You’re not in charge, you just have the most ammo. If I said I’ll take first watch, then I’ll—"

“Jesus H. Christ, girl, d’y’ever shut up?” Joel cut you off.

“You got a mighty big stick shoved up your ass, Miller.”

Joel stood up, refusing to back down from the fight you had started. You decided to stand, too. You weren’t about to let him win just because he had you cornered into the couch.

“‘Nd you’re still over there runnin’ your mouth. What’s this, hour four o’bein’ here? You still got somethin’ new to say?”

“You want me to be quiet?” You were standing right in front of him, looking him directly in the eyes.

Fuck, he had pretty eyes.

“Mm.”

“Make me.”

Remember Occam’s razor? The simplest solution.

Joel grabbed you by the waist, attacking your mouth with his. You yelped at the sudden contact, but he silenced you just as quickly by forcing his tongue into your mouth. You relaxed into him, letting his hands explore you while you wrapped your own around him, fingers tugging at the curly hair at the nape of his neck. He pushed you back down onto the couch.

“Need me to make you shut up?” He undid his belt, calloused hands sliding it out of the loops. “I’ll show you what that fuckin’ mouth is good for, sweetheart. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

You were never one to disobey a command. You inched yourself off the couch, settling on your knees in front of Joel. He traced a hand down your jaw, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for him, and he placed his thumb inside.

“Use that mouth, baby.” He watched you close your lips around the digit and hollow your cheeks to suck. “Tha’s right. Need’a teach you some manners. What’tya say?”

“Thank you, Joel.” You managed to mumble out, still sucking on his thumb.

“Uh-uh. You treat me with some fuckin’ respect when you’re on your knees for me. What do you say?” He pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop, tracing it over your cheek and smearing your spit across your face.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good girl.” He unzipped his fly and took your hands in his, placing them on his crotch. You could feel how hard he was, how his cock throbbed for you in his pants. He put your hands on his hips, then pulled down his jeans to release himself.

You had spent a lot of time imagining Joel’s dick. You knew that it had to be big, considering the way he carried himself, considering he always had to adjust his pants after sitting down. But even then, nothing could have prepared you for how fucking hung he was. He was so beautiful.

He grabbed one of your hands, making you wrap it around his cock.

“What are you waitin’ for, darlin’?” He looked down at you expectantly. There was no way you would be able to fit all of him down your throat, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, giving experimental licks and kisses. He groaned, grabbing your hair and holding it in a ponytail.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me?” He asked, and all you could do was make a noise in response. “Gonna let me use this mouth how it needs to be used?” Again, you could only make a noise, this time higher pitched in anticipation. “Wanted to fuck this pretty mouth o’yours for so damn long. You gonna let me?” Now all you could do was moan, and he took that as a “yes.”

He pushed himself forward into your mouth, and you could feel the burn of your cheeks as he got deeper. He got maybe, maybe, halfway in when you started to gag, choking on his length, your spit dripping down your chin.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby. Messy girl. Lettin’ me use you like this. Fuck!” You had reached a hand down to cup his balls, giving them a small squeeze with your mouth still wrapped firmly around his shaft. “Knew you’d be a good girl. Knew you’d be a fuckin’ whore.” He began to shallowly thrust into your mouth, making you choke and drool all over yourself. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear growing bigger with every move he made and every word he said. Tears streamed down your face as he pushed himself against the back of your throat.

He pulled out, slapping your cheek with his cock. “Doin’ such a good job. Should’a shut you up like this before.” Joel slapped your cheek with his dick again, drawing a whine from you. “You need more, sweet thing? L’il slut needs more than what I’ve already given her?” Now he was just teasing.

“Please, sir…” Was all you could manage, opening your mouth again in the hopes that he would stuff his cock back inside.

“Please, sir, what?”

“Please can I have your cock, sir?” You weren’t one for begging, but God did you love seeing Joel stand above you. How could you deny him what he wanted when he was gripping his cock like that? Looking down at you like that?

“Get up on the couch.” You did as you were told. He grabbed your face and pulled you into him for another kiss. It was filthy, all spit and tongue, and you fucking loved it.

He began stripping you of your clothes. He tugged your shirt off over your head, drinking in the way your naked chest rose and fell with every breath you took. You shimmied out of your jeans, but before you could get rid of your panties, Joel was pushing you onto the couch.

“Lemme help you, pretty girl.” He pulled your hips up, one arm under your ass for support while he ghosted his fingers over your clothed cunt.

“Look at that fuckin’ wet spot. Did I do that to you, baby? Daddy get you all wet, fuckin’ your pretty mouth?” He rubbed a knuckle in the middle of the wetness on your panties, and you moaned at the contact. “Answer my question.”

“Daddy got me wet—yes!” You bit back a yell as Joel pulled your panties to the side and unceremoniously pushed his middle finger into your weeping cunt.

“Fuckin’ soaked f’me. Barely fittin’ one finger in, beautiful. How you gonna take my cock?” You opened your mouth but no words came out, instead you heard yourself let out a string of high pitched moans.

“God, this tight little pussy…gonna make you all mine, sweetheart.”

“I—ah!—I’m all y-yours alrea-dy.” You breathed out. Joel added another finger and you felt yourself squeeze him.

“Tha’s right, wanna feel you cum on my fingers like this. Can you do that, baby? Be a good girl and cum on daddy’s fingers?” You could hardly breathe you were so turned on, so focused on how Joel’s fingers were brushing against your most sensitive spot. Eyes closing in concentration; you felt a smack against your clit. Opening your eyes, you met Joel’s gaze.

“Be a good girl ‘nd look at me while I’m usin’ this pussy.” He started pushing his fingers deeper.

Your head rolled back on the couch, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, trying your best not to break eye contact with Joel.

“So quiet all of a sudden, baby. S’at all you needed? Needed to get this pussy filled up so that I could get some fuckin’ peace and quiet?” You nodded your head in response, feeling yourself at the tipping point. Your face was hot, your body coated in sweat, and all he had done was fuck your face and use his fingers on you. You were a fucking goner. You felt a rough finger on your clit, and Joel’s voice calling you a “good girl,” and that was all you needed. The rubber band snapped, and you were cumming all over his hand.

“Good fuckin’ girl. Fuck, getting’ my hand all messy.” You were breathing heavily, still able to feel the fullness of his fingers inside you as you came down from your orgasm.

Suddenly you were empty again, and Joel brought his fingers up to your lips. You opened your mouth without any fuss, tasting the tang of your juices on his fingers. He watched you like a hawk, unable to tear away his gaze from the way your lips pulled his fingers in while you sucked your cum off of them.

He pulled his fingers away, and you whined. You needed contact—any contact—with him. He gave you another kiss, pulling away to ask you what you needed.

“Your cock, Joel. Please.”

“Already gave you my cock, didn’t I, darlin’?”

“Want more, sir.”

“Gonna have to be more specific.” You could feel his breath on your face.

“Can I…I want you to… please?”

“God, you can’t even remember your words now. Pathetic little mess f’me.” He wrapped a hand around your throat. “I know what you want, baby. Want me to fuck your little pussy? S’at it?” You nodded. His insult went straight to your core.

He got up on the couch next to you, shifting you to lie on your side, your legs pressed together in what was essentially the fetal position. He pulled your ruined panties down, letting you straighten your legs for a moment before throwing them somewhere and pushing your legs back up. You felt him lining his cock up to your hole, nudging you with the tip.

“Tell me what you want.” He urged again.

You felt a newfound confidence surge through you. “Want daddy to fuck my pussy, please.” You followed all his rules, using your manners, using his title. It didn’t go unnoticed. Joel growled as he pushed his cock inside you. Every inch of him filled you up, dragging against your walls. You let out a long moan as he seated himself as deep inside of you as he could.

“Tiny l’il girl, look at you takin’ this big cock. So fuckin’ good.” He began to thrust himself shallowly in and out of your cunt. Every movement made you feel how good he was stretching you out, your wetness dripped between your legs.

You let out a particularly shrill moan as he hit a spot deep inside of you, one you hadn’t even realized existed. He smacked your ass hard before cupping his hand over your mouth.

“Just when I thought you were learnin’ to be quiet. Gonna have to fuck this lesson into you, huh?” He sped up, snapping his hips into your ass. You could hear the wet sounds your pussy made around him. The hand that had been on your mouth dipped between your legs, pulling the one on top up and over his shoulder.

“Tha’s what I like to see. Pretty girl all spread out for me. Thought o’this view every fuckin’ day.” He was absolutely ruining you, kneading your clit and pulling you up onto his dick.

“Gimme another one, sweetheart. Cum on my cock.” He let your leg drop off of his shoulder, leaning in to kiss you while you tried to keep your moans quiet. His fingers still worked your clit, rubbing your bud in time with his thrusts.

“J-oel,” you gasped, “I’m—fuck! I—”

“I know, baby. Show me what a good girl you are.” He kissed your cheek, and you clenched around him, making him groan. Your vision went blurry from the tears leaking out of your eyes combined with the absolute and utter pleasure that Joel had coursing through your veins.

“Shit! So fuckin’ good for me, atta girl. Cum for daddy, sweetheart, there y’go.”

You were shaking, turning slightly to lie on your back and look up at him.

“Th-ank you, sir…” You could barely keep your eyes open, your orgasm had knocked all the energy out of you. But at least you remembered your manners.

“Good job, darlin’.” He was getting sloppy, his arms resting next to your head on the couch while he lazily drove his cock inside of you. “Where d’ya want me, baby?”

Through your haze you shot him a smile. “Inside. Please, will you cum inside me, daddy?”

He moaned, speeding up slightly at your request. “Want me to cum in this sweet pussy? Wanna feel me paint you with my fuckin’ load, pretty girl?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you for another heated kiss. You moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Please,” you whispered against his lips, “please cum inside me, Joel.”

He let out a groan, followed by your name over and over again, grinding himself into you. You felt the warmth of his cum in your stomach, wiggling your hips on him while his own hips stuttered above you, draining his cock into your greedy cunt.

He held himself above you, hair sticking to his forehead. You traced lazy shapes on his back and smiled up at him.

“You’re chatty when you fuck.” You goaded him.

“Yeah? You’re chatty all the time.” He spoke bluntly, but kissed your forehead. He pulled out of you, and your cunt clenched around nothing at the empty feeling. His cum dripped out of you. He sat up and pulled you into his lap. You sat silently for a moment, holding onto each other.

“Didn’t think you liked me all that much. Definitely didn’t think you liked me enough to fuck me like that.” You broke the silence. “Always felt like you didn’t want much to do with me.”

“Y’kidding?”

“No.”

“I like you too much.” Joel whispered into the top of your head.

“What do you mean?”

“Dangerous to like someone in this world, darlin’. Didn’t want either of us to deal with more hurt than we already have.”

“Oh…” You were silent again. Then, “So why’d you let me come with you two in the first place? Didn’t have to let me stick around.”

“’Cause you’re pretty.” He chuckled to himself. “’Nd Ellie needed someone a little more her speed. Someone a little more caring…maternal…” So, you had been right!

But he continued. “‘Nd, you know…”

“What?”

“I told ya. I like you.”

“Didn’t seem that way when you held a gun to my head.” You said, recalling your first encounter.

“It was a precaution.”

“Mhm.”

“Well how does it seem when my cum’s drippin’ out o’you?” You laughed lightly, reaching your fingers down to feel the sticky mixture of his cum and yours that had leaked onto your leg. You put the fingers in your mouth. He sucked in a breath, watching you intently.

“Seems like maybe you’re telling the truth.” You let your fingers go, wiping the remaining spit and cum mixture on the couch.

“I am. Like you a lot. So much. I’d be willin’ to prove it again, y’know.” He smiled, wiggling his brows. You could get used to seeing Joel Miller joke around after fucking you stupid.

“Like you a lot, too.” More silence.

“So y’meant what you said?” He asked.

“What’d I say?”

“When we were fuckin’. Y’said you were mine.”

You leaned yourself into him. “Of course I meant it. Did you mean it when you said you wanted to make me yours?”

“Of course I meant it.” He parroted.

“Good.” You sighed, letting the smell and feel of him surround you.

“Y’finally ready to get some sleep?” He asked. And for the first time, you heard the genuine affection behind the words, not just the affection you thought you only heard from him in your imagination.

“You said the bedroom is on the right?” You caved.

“I did.”

You prepared to stand up, but Joel wrapping his arms around your stomach stopped you.

“Where th’hell are you goin’?”

“To the bedroom.”

“Why?”

“You told me to sleep, Joel, I’m gonna go to sleep.”

“Simpler to just stay here.” He pulled you closer to him. You gladly cuddled into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He was right. That was the simplest solution.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction

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artbyblastweave · 1 year

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Anyway, Trevor Henderson (of Slimeyswampghost fame) is currently producing a fiction podcast called Mayfair Watchers Society based on his horror artwork. And so far I like it a lot- it’s scratching two major itches for me;

It’s got a significantly more grounded approach to living in a Fucked Up Little Town (TM) where Things Just Happen Sometimes than Welcome to Night Vale; Characters in the town take a measured and reasonable approach to the fact they live in a town where Stuff (TM) happens sometimes and talk openly about it when it’s becoming relevant to the situation at hand, without becoming complete cartoons about it. A very “Ah, fuck, not this again- okay, does anyone remember how they handled this last time?” approach to it, which is very much how you’d translate the overall Vibe of Henderson’s works into a non-visual format. One of my favorite episodes so far is a Town Hall Meeting in which complaints about poachers slowly segue into the reveal that there’s some kind of bone-monster roaming about in the woods harvesting shed antlers to amalgamate into itself, and the initial theory that it’s some kind of scooby-doo style hoax by human poachers gets openly shouted and argued down as the unsubstantiated crank position that doesn’t pass Occam's razor despite the slight circumstantial evidence in it’s favor. And I was nodding along!

There’s a significantly greater spread of spookum intent. One thing that started to grate on my about The Magnus Archives, even before season 5, is that the universally hostile nature of the setting’s supernatural phenomena mildly damaged the sense of stakes; you already know what the freak of the week wants before you even know what the freak in question actually is, and then it’s just a waiting game to see how this one tries to kill everybody. So far Mayfair has had a decent spread between creatures that are actively malevolent, creatures that are primarily benign but inconvenient, and creatures that are, say, genuinely trying to help with a bullying problem but with no understanding of proportionality. Which is, again, basically the thematic throughline of Henderson’s art; a lot of his creatures are fundamentally of ambiguous intent. Sometimes a weird guy in an abandoned warehouse is just chilling, or exploring itself, and you’re the belligerent. Other times it’s an ambush predator with human mimicry. No way to tell!

#thoughts #media analysis #trevor henderson #mayfair watchers society #podcasts #meta

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lucabyte · 10 days

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obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

#PHEW THIS IS LONG. i wrote some extra footnotes and tidied it up a bit. but uh. here you go! my personal headcanon baseline for postcanon.#i could probably elaborate more but that would get unwieldy. like i have opinions on loop's dynamics w each party member but. LONG POST...#lucabytetalks #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time #isat loop #isiloop #sloopis #WONT be tagging everyone thats absurd. loop centric post though with a chunk about nille at the end #isat act 6 spoilers

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relan-daevath · 1 year

Text

Updates

Hello again. So thanks to the community I was noticed and contacted by TESO team. Thank you all ppl, really, I am a small artist and my chance to be noticed was little without your reposts and reaction.

The team assures that there was a mistake and they never wanted to use fanarts without permission.

We exchanged quite friendly messages, the contents of which I do not want to disclose yet. Now I am waiting for a second answer. It is now the Easter holidays and an answer cannot be received quickly. Let's be patient and wait. ...See the whole post to discover some more funny details. ↓

...

Well... I think particular employee just did their job… BAD. This is just my guess, I don't have an official comment.

Some indirect evidence of a dishonest work (lack of verification?) is that that set of tattoos is called "Mercymothers". The Merciful Mother is Almalexia, and the tattoos are clearly depicting Sotha Sil. You should be completely out of lore to do that… or it's a deeplore that I am too silly to understand )) (don't think so, using Occam's Razor)

...

Whatever it was, that dude (if so) did their job badly twice. Here are paired face tattoos (Mersymother's Face Art) in addition to body tattoos.

See the ponytail above the heart? And here it is on the face. So the whole set is cut from my picture. Alas.

This would not be evident if we did not know the history of the first picture.

I want to point out that I am not throwing accusations. Shit happenes even in big companies, now we need to understand who is to blame and what to do.

Any such things should be dealt with as correctly as possible. I was surprised when someone called me toxic in the comments for my first reaction. How else should I have reacted? Be silently happy?

...

And about copyrights.

I drew a fanart and I didn't monetize it, it's not forbidden as I konw :) But now company: 1. took it without asking me 2. sells it in the crownstore for real money.

All rights to the scrolls lore belong to the company! But without the consent of the artist, even fanart cannot be used. So now we need to figure out a solution that satisfies every side of the incident (I think). At the very least, I should be credited as an artist in the credits of a new chapter or such place.

...

Love you all and still love Scrolls universe, eheh.

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dutchdread · 2 months

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Hi, I'm sorry if this question has been answered before, but what are your views on the whole Cloud not answering Tifa when she asks if he loves her. I'm not entirely sure where it's from, sorry.

Sure, it might have been asked before, I know I've answered it before, but I've talked about this subject in many places so it might not have been on Tumblr. Either way, the question doesn't bother me, it's a good question since people bring it up a lot, so having a chance to reiterate the answer isn't a bad thing. The scene you're talking about is from the short story: " On the way to a smile - Episode Tifa". Like with all these supposed rebuttals to Cloti this argument fails when you look at the situation honestly for more than two seconds, and is actually Pro-Cloti. Firstly, this argument suffers from the same problem that I brought up a while back in my article concerning "the most misunderstood quote in the LTD". Namely that for this argument to make sense you already have to admit that Cloud and Tifa are in a relationship. There is not a person on earth who would walk up to random friends in the middle of the night and wake them up to ask them whether they love them. The scene is framed as Tifa being in Clouds bedroom, and since Tifa is never mentioned to go to his room and Cloud seems to not be surprised about her being there Occams razor will tell you the most likely reason she's in his room is because they're sleeping together. So even if we look at this situation in the most pro-Cleriths way possible then we still already have a situation where Cloud and Tifa are in a relationship, because only in a relationship does it make sense to talk about relationship issues. And since the very notion of stories is to have a resolution we can also surmise that by the end of the story these relationship issues are in some way fixed, either by them going their separate ways, or them working it out. And since we've discussed the nature of the issues Cloud is facing in depth on this page and have discussed how they are resolved, we know the answer to these questions. The issues are resolved by Cloud returning to Tifa and the children, as has been explicitly stated by the developers.

Inside, I felt one thing was for sure: Cloud and Tifa would be together. Everybody would be back home where they belonged. ~ Nojima - Reunion files - pg. 70

Let me stress this again, the most PRO-Clerith version of this argument has Tifa and Cloud being in a relationship and working it out by the end. And in reality it's even more pro-Cloti than that. The very fact that Tifa is concerned about Cloud not loving her implies that him loving her is in some way the standard. It's not that Tifa and Cloud are friends and it's going so well that Tifa is wondering "wait, does he maybe like me more as just friends? does he perhaps....LOVE me?" no, the implication is that the accepted state of affairs is that they were two people in love, and that she is now questioning whether that's actually the case. Now note that Tifas insecurities by themselves mean nothing. Tifa can be extremely jealous of Aerith and completely convinced that Cloud is depressed because he actually loves another woman, and yet be completely wrong about that, as is clearly the case. Whatever insecurities Tifa might reasonably have, they're pretty clearly shown to be false by the sub-sequent events of Advent Children and all the quotes surrounding it. We know the reason Cloud was depressed, we know the reason he left. As I have discussed in depth here: "why does Cloud think about Aerith if he's not in love with her" as well as on other articles. In short, Cloud is depressed because of Cherophobia, PTSD, Fear of failure, and guilt, and his ultimate reason for leaving is due to his Geostigma. Tifas romantic worries are shown to be unfounded. Concerning the scene itself, a lot of people pretend that Cloud doesn't answer Tifa, that is incorrect. Cloud is asleep when Tifa asks the quote. When this wakes him Tifa changes the question to "do you love Marlene". The reason she does this is most likely because she's scared of the answer, she chickens out and instead of repeating the question, which he missed on account of BEING ASLEEP, she changes it to something less directly threatening to her heart, "do you love Marlene". The most important thing to note is that Cloud answers in the affirmative, he DOES love Marlene. Most importantly, this answer also serves as an answer to "do you love me?", either because Cloud straight up heard Tifa (I don't think he did, but some people pretend he did) and is answering her indirectly, or because this is how you use storytelling to provide an indirect answer to the viewer. The scene illustrates, in general, that Clouds issues are not due to a lack of love. There is a different problem, what is that problem? Well, I've already provided you with a link showing just that. Let me also quickly touch on what happens later on in the short story in general:

Cloud is looking for a way to atone, which he finds through Denzel.

“So the problem was resolved?” Tifa asked. “Which problem?” Cloud responded. “Your problem.” “Oh…” Cloud thought about it. “It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.” “I can’t really explain it well…” Cloud warned before starting to talk. “The problem isn’t resolved. Well, I never tried resolving it for a long time, I think. You can’t retrieve lost lives.” Tifa nodded silently. “But maybe we can save the lives who are in a crisis just now. Maybe even I can do it.” “You mean Denzel?” “Yeah.” “Hey, do you remember what you said when you brought Denzel here?” “What did I say?” “A lot of things. Even if I opposed it, you would bring him back with you. I could just feel it.” “That…” Cloud was making a face like a kid who thought he would get scolded. “Tell me. I’ll decide whether I’m angry or not after I listen.” Cloud nodded and continued. “Denzel had collapsed in front of Aerith’s church. That’s why I thought Aerith lead him to me.” Saying all that in one breath, Cloud looked away. “You went to the church.” “I didn’t intend to hide it from you.” “You did hide it.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m not saying you couldn’t go. But next time, I’ll go with you.” “I understand.” “And you’re wrong, Cloud.” Cloud was perplexed as he looked at Tifa. “Aerith didn’t bring Denzel to you.” “Ahh, I only thought that…..” “I didn’t mean it that way.” “Aerith brought Denzel to our home.” Cloud gazed at Tifa and finally smiled. __________________________________

This provides further evidence that the issues between Tifa and Cloud weren't due to a lack of love, but were due to Cloud suffering from the guilt of failing to protect Aerith. He doesn't know how to deal with that because this is not something he can take back: "You can’t retrieve lost lives.”. However, he is looking for a way to atone and thinks he's found one by protecting those who are still alive, in this case Denzel. Subsequently his situation with Tifa seemingly improves. But then the story ends with Clouds sudden disappearance, and Tifa wondering if the improvement, and the accompanying smiles, were a lie. The story lets that question linger, it is a cliff hanger, the set-up for Advent Children, advent children is supposed to answer the question, and it does. The answer to the mystery of why Cloud suddenly disappeared when things appeared to be improving, is that he contracted Geostigma.

Cloud never had a candid personality to begin with, and although he started living with Tifa and even started working, he obtained a peaceful living he’s never experienced before, and this conversely made him anxious. And in the midst of this he contracts Geostigma himself, and rather than being able to protect the people dear to him, he instead was forced to face his own death, and so ran away.”-Nojima in AC prologue.

Case closed, Cloti wins again. Like always, whenever you look at any scene in the larger context you come to the conclusion that it perfectly fits the overall story and concepts proposed by Clotis. It's the remarkable coherency of this interpretation that in my opinion is it's best proof. Cleriths propose a very shallow story, they never look deeper than "Clouds actions revolve around romantic love, therefore, every action has to either directly prove romance, or disprove it, there can be no unrelated issues". There is no nuance there, no understanding of deeper concepts. There can't be, because as soon as you try to add those the interpretation falls apart at the seems, you run into a hundred conflicting quotes and a thousand themes that don't fit together or are downright bad. You get stories about a man abandoning sick kids because he wants die die to be with a dead girl, for no other reason than that he knew her for one week and now is obsessed with her. There is no story here, no beauty, no lessons, no morality, just a weird shallow death cult, and the biggest proof that it is a cult is how they can look at a scene like the one you proposed, and delude themselves into actually believing their shallow misrepresentations constitute "a good argument".

#FFVII #ffvii remake #cloti #advent children

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mauswrites · 22 hours

Text

Fear (Simon Riley x AFAB!GN!Reader)

A/N: I was recently reminded of my worst fear, that being cryptic pregnancy (No weight gain, no symptoms, no nothing. You don't know about the baby until it's on its way out) and can't stop thinking about it, so I decided to write a fic to get it out of my system. (sorry if this sucks, this is the first fic I've published in like almost a decade)

Genre: hurt/comfort

TW: Blood, mentions of childbirth, medical inaccuracies, possibly OOC Ghost, reader genuinely thinks they're dying

You couldn't sleep.

Not because of the thoughts racing in your mind but of the unbearable pain in your abdomen.

Occam's razor would tell you that it was just your period, but you've never experienced cramps like this before, like being torn in half.

With a huff, you shove the blanket off your body and get up, but as soon as your feet hit the floor, pain shoots up your spine, causing you to crumple to the floor, wailing out in agony. You clutch your stomach, forcing air in and out of your lungs.

Why am I wet? you thought.

The pain had distracted you until now, but you managed to reach for your bedside lamp to see blood running down your legs.

A lot of it, too.

As the fear settled in your bones, you hurry to get your phone and call for an ambulance.

"999, what's your emergency?"

"I don't know what's wrong, I'm in a lot of pain, I can't stop bleeding... I-I can't walk."

"Where are you now?"

You give the address to your flat and hang up when the dispatcher assures you that the ambulance isn't far.

Walking may seem impossible, but you manage to crawl to the front door to unlock it, sitting down in the hall, waiting.

Desperation clings to your heart, and you make one more call, this time to your ex-boyfriend, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Simon? Hey, it's me... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For my attitude, the arguments, all of it."

The blood loss is getting to you, but you take a ragged breath and press on.

"I think I'm dying, an ambulance is on their way, but–"

The pain spikes suddenly, causing you to scream.

"In case I do, just know that I love you."

Hearing sirens from outside, you hang up and wait, dreading the black spots in your vision.

The ambulance ride is a blur, the EMT asking questions that your brain isn't processing, and you barely remember being put under at the hospital.

As your eyes flutter open hours later, sunlight leaks into the room through the blinds, and your stomach is sore, but you otherwise feel better.

A nurse is still in the room, typing away on the computer in your room.

"What happened?"

She seemed startled yet relieved at your voice, still groggy from sleep.

"This may come as a shock to you,"

Uh oh.

"But you experienced what's called a cryptic pregnancy and needed to undergo an emergency C-section. The bleeding was caused by a tear in your uterine lining, but you'll recover just fine."

Her diagnosis hit you like a brick to the face.

"So... I had a baby?"

"Yes, a little girl; a bit premature, but otherwise healthy."

You merely hum in acknowledgement as you look around the room, your eyes landing on the bassinet.

"Would you like to hold her?" the nurse asked.

"I... yes."

She smiles as she walks around the bed, picking up your daughter and passing her to you.

A lump forms in your throat as you lock eyes with the infant in your arms, hers a deep brown.

"Um... hello," you say, "it's nice to meet you."

As you fall silent, the nurse pipes up once again.

"I'll leave you two be for now. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call for someone."

You quickly thank her before she leaves, closing the door behind her, and you quickly turn your attention back to your daughter.

Your heart and mind were both racing as you admired her, even softly speaking to her every so often. For seconds or hours, you're not quite sure, but you only snapped out of your trance when the door opened.

You watch as Simon comes in and pulls up a chair next to your hospital bed, on the same side as the bassinet, all without a word.

"I'm guessing they wouldn't let you in looking like the Grim Reaper," you joked, taking note of the black surgical mask on his face, "How've you been?"

"I should be asking you," he said, "that voicemail scared the shit outta me."

"I've been..."

What do you even say?

"Honestly, not great; missed you like hell," you admit, casting your eyes back down to your baby and letting her tiny hand grip onto one of your fingers, "but I think I'll be okay."

"Cute little thing," he said, referring to your little girl.

"Thanks, I made it myself."

"Got a name yet?"

"Haven't exactly had much time to think of one," you reply, "got any ideas?"

"You told me you always liked the name Emilia."

"That's true. Seems it's settled then," you do your best to straighten up, "Simon, meet Emilia... Riley?"

"Riley," he confirmed, making you smile for the first time in a while.

"Do you want to hold her?"

He nodded, and you placed a kiss on her forehead before passing her over to him.

She already looked tiny in your arms, but compared to Simon's much bigger frame, she was damn near microscopic. He was practically holding her with just his hands, handling her delicately, like one wrong move would cause her to fall apart.

"What d'you say you come back home," he said, "We try again, be a family."

"Is that actually what you want? I don't want to be the parents that are only together for our child's sake."

"I mean it."

"That's good," you pause, fighting back tears, "Promise I won't be such a bitch this time 'round."

"You say that like I was a saint."

"Then we'll both be better, for each other and for her."

"Deal."

You silently admire the scene before you for a few minutes until the nurse from earlier returns.

She asked some questions about you and the baby, filled in some blanks on the birth certificate, and stepped out to bring you some ice water, leaving you to think about the past twelve hours.

"I'm honestly dreading going back to my flat." you thought aloud.

"Why?" Simon asked. He carefully placed Emilia back in the bassinet, giving you his full attention.

"There's blood everywhere."

"I'll take care of it; you just rest up and heal," he stood as he spoke, taking off his mask to kiss your temple, but before he had a chance to walk away, you placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to stay.

"Promise you'll come back?"

"Promise."

As he left, the weight of the situation settled deep in your bones, but you found solace in knowing that you wouldn't have to face it alone, and that things would hopefully turn out better this time around.

#simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #tw blood #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort

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