#Thursday theatrics

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

By the very scientific method of "flip a coin", it was ultimately decided that today would be another Splinter Cell follow-up

Sig strode through the makeshift mess hall in the weapons factory with a confidence that drew eyes to him immediately. He swung himself up onto a chair and placed two fingers in his mouth to shatter the quiet with a piercing whistle. Instantly, he had everyone's attention.

"Listen up, rebels!" Sig barked, "There's been a change in operations! Jak’s just secured the backing of the Wastelander nation in this war."

A foreign ally? The motley gathering began to whisper amongst themselves. The majority had never even heard of Wastelanders having an entire nation. But they did know that Wastelanders had a reputation for finding rare treasures and selling them to the highest bidder. Having them fund the war against Praxis could either spell victory or trouble, depending on what they wanted in return.

"What's this gang-"

"Nation," Sig corrected.

"Yeah, that. What's their angle?" A woman named Kloe demanded.

Sig's eye glinted dangerously. "Payback. Praxis thought he could kidnap Wasteland kids and let the Marauders take the fall for it."

He slammed a fist into his palm.

"They're gonna help you shape up into a real fighting force. We Wastelanders will take point in any heavy firefights and strategic planning. You'll be crucial for intel and evacuation routes. We work together, maybe we'll bring down the Baron before he gets half the city killed with his stupidity."

Bran, a barrel-chested tailor, folded his thick arms and scowled. "And what happens when the war is over, eh? These Wastelanders planning to leave peacefully?"

"Fair enough," a youngster agreed from across the table. "That's how we ended up with Praxis in the first place, right? How do we know these people don't want to take over?"

From the side of the room, a new voice scoffed, "Oh you need not worry. I have no desire to rule this city again."

A grizzled man sat in the corner, arms folded across his chest. Half in shadow, he observed them all with keen eyes. On the scaffold above him, others in the garb of Wastelanders stood, feigning disinterest. Jak, Daxter, and Tess leaned against the railing, watching the man below with curiosity.

"I may not respect the choices you've all made in my absence, but I'll respect your rejection of the House of Mar."

He raised one brow.

"Personally, I disagree with the notion that a bloodline is what gives someone the right to rule."

Damas leaned back and let his eyes wander over the twenty or thirty individuals at the fold-out tables. The younger rebels seemed confused by his appearance. Those closer to his own age sat frozen, shock coloring their faces. They remembered him. They recognized him, even after 16 years of change. It was gratifying, in a way.

"If you mean to ask whether there is a "catch" to my aid, I will not lie to you," he said. "We are not helping you for free. But when the Baron’s head has been freed from his shoulders, you will all do with the city as you see fit, and we will return home."

One of the older members of Daxter's "Fight United" division stood up. Her eyes weren't what they used to be, but she could still operate a Titan Suit with deadly efficiency. Now she squinted across the tables to the corner.

"It really is you, isn't it?" she asked, "King Damas? Most of us were afraid Praxis had murdered you in secret."

"He would have," Damas answered bluntly, "but the Precursors have always taken a bizarre and not entirely welcome interest in the fate of my House, to the point of several Council members deeming it blasphemy to kill an Heir of Mar before the Precursors can do something absolutely ridiculous to them."

Above him, Jak choked on a laugh and hastily pulled away from the rail to hide his smirk. He knew there were enough devotees of the Precursors in the Factory Cell that laughing could step on some toes. Normally, that wouldn't have mattered to him. But since most of the devout were in Daxter's Titan Suit squad, he didn't want to make his best friend's life any harder than necessary.

Kloe leaned out from her seat, as little less confident now that she knew the leader of this foreign ally was the lost king of her own city. Among her generation, there were still a lot of mixed feelings about his reign. Most agreed that he'd been a failure as a leader during the Metalhead War, but sixteen years had softened blame into an acknowledgment that he'd come to the throne a boy, forced into manhood too soon. To throw the weight of an entire city of innocents onto such young shoulders without offering a hand in support had led to catastrophe. He hadn't been ready to rule, but after seeing the alternative, the older generation didn't blame him anymore.

"King- King Damas." Kloe swallowed her nerves. "You didn't answer my question. What's your angle? Can't just be payback, or you'd probably have assassinated Praxis by now. What is it you want from us?"

Damas didn’t take his eyes off the gathered crowd. He pointed upward, right to where Jak stood with Tess above them.

"Him," he answered bluntly. "I'm taking Jak."

The room burst into an uproar.

"You can't just "take" Jak! He's our best fighter!"

"Jak?! Why the heck would you want him?!"

"King or no king, we don't trade kids for favors!"

"What do you even want him for?"

"Dude, that's a bad idea! Have you seen what that guy is like?!"

"Sig, you're not letting him take our tank, right?"

Sig cut through the protests with another sharp whistle.

"Everybody zip it!" he shouted.

When the room had quieted, he stepped down from the chair and walked between the tables.

"I understand your concern. Nice to see y'all showing more concern for Jak than some cells. But let me remind you that, like a couple others of you here, Jak’s a kid. Not a soldier. When this whole mess is done, you rugrats deserve the chance to go where you want. See the world. Don't you think?"

Some of the younger members exchanged glances. Well. That was different, wasn't it?

Jinx ground his unlit cigar into the tabletop. "Bull. Prettyboy, you ain't cut out for the wastes, believe me. You really gonna go with them when this is all over?"

The boy looked away.

"Yes."

"Jak?" A round-faced teen from the Scout Flies division frowned up at him. "Are you...are you really okay with this?"

Jak was quiet for a moment, like he wasn't sure what to say. Then he raised his eyes, and with an almost guilty expression, he croaked,

"Yes."

"Jak, you can't-"

"Yes I can!"

The sharpness in his words caught them all off guard, himself included. He winced slightly.

"Look- I can take care of myself, okay? It's fine. We get the numbers and firepower to take down Praxis, they get me, and I get to go as far away from the Baron's labs as possible. Everybody wins."

It seemed selfish to tell them that he had always planned to leave once the Baron was dead. Not everyone in the Factory Cell liked him, or saw him as more than a walking weapon of mass destruction. But four weeks of operating as a splinter cell was enough to forge at least a sense of camaraderie. They were all wary of him, even the ones that liked him -- except for a couple senseless kids who looked up to him for some godforsaken reason -- but they depended on him. They had expectations of him, and knowing that he couldn't fulfill them turned Jak's stomach and tightened his chest.

He pushed off of the rail and swallowed.

"I'll um. I'll see you at the next briefing."

Phobos turned and followed him up the scaffolding, through a short antechamber covered in buttons and dials to what used to be a testing room. She wasn't wearing her wrap in her hair anymore: currently it was functioning as a sling to hold Mar on her back. Bored by the adults talking and talking and talking, Mar had fallen asleep until the shouting started. He blinked sleepily over his mother's shoulder at Jak, then dropped his head back down with a tired grumble.

"So you've decided for sure?"

Phobos frowned at Jak.

"I don't want you to feel that our help is dependent on you coming home with us."

Jak tilted his head. "Would you still help if I didn't?"

"We wouldn't wait for your cell to be ready." Phobos bounced Mar a little higher on her back and glanced back towards the hall.

"If this was the city you'd chosen to live in, Da- your- your father would already be on his way to kill Praxis without you, to make the city safe for you."

"Why?"

The boy spun on his heel and forced himself to look this Other Mother -- as if he'd even known one mother -- in the eye.

"You don't know me."

"Not yet, no. Is that a requirement for wanting you to be safe?" asked Phobos, with a hint of a wry smile.

Jak shut his mouth quickly. That was a hard question to answer. Usually, knowing him meant people started throwing him toward danger. Made sense that the strangers were the ones being protective if they just saw some random teenager playing soldier. Once they saw him in action, they'd change their tune.

"But Jak-" Phobos seemed to glide forward, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind Jak's ear. "Do you actually want to come to Spargus with us?"

He leaned into her touch the slightest bit, like a skittish crocadog. If Sig was right, Phobos realized, he was likely starved for affection. What kind of life had this Other Mar led? What, exactly, had the Baron done? The boy had mentioned laboratories. The very word made Phobos's blood curdle.

What have they done to you, child?

She eased closer.

Jak's eyes darted this way and that. He opened his mouth, but the words faltered on his tongue. After a few false starts, at last he gathered himself and looked up. His resolve broke the instant he glimpsed Mar's curls over Phobos's shoulder.

Mar was safe now. But what about him?

"I have to get out of this city," he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard. "I have- I have to- to see the sky again. The real sky."

The words spilled out despite his attempts to stop them.

"I'm not- I'm not going to leave Mar. Where he goes, I go. Please- please don't leave me here."

What a pathetic plea. Jak cringed internally. Two years -- two and a half, now -- he'd managed without ever begging for escape. Not from his captors, not from his abusers, not even from the Underground. But after the glimpse of the Wastes Sig had shown him, after the possibility of freedom had been dangled before him, how could Jak ever go back?

He couldn't quite interpret the emotion in Phobos's eyes. But she opened her arms and held her hands palm up, where he could see them. She made no moves towards him, instead asking, "Jak, may I?"

No one had ever asked him that before. He either got hugged, or he didn't. Usually, with the dark eco running under his skin, he didn't like hugs. He was wary of sudden movement, and even when it was telegraphed, the eco made his skin so much more sensitive than it would be otherwise. Which often made tight squeezes unbearable. But ever since Mar's father had used the light eco on him, things felt more...more settled. Restrained.

Did he want a hug?

He wasn't a baby, or some helpless victim. He was a monster. A survivor. An ex-hero.

....a kid.

Just a kid.

"I...uh, okay."

Jak grimaced and sternly told himself not to look desperate.

The embrace lasted for only a moment or two, but for those brief heartbeats Jak wondered at how safe he felt. Was this how Mar felt when he carried him around after nightmares? How Keira felt whenever Samos used to hug her when they were kids?

Jak had told himself often that he had plenty of human contact in the form of Daxter. But now he wondered if Tess was right about that "touch-starved" thing she was talking about the other week.

Phobos released him gently and stepped back to hoist Mar higher on her back again. Sympathy lined her eyes, but Jak didn't feel pitied. He felt seen.

Mar yawned and Phobos clicked her tongue and hummed quietly. Nine notes, rising and falling, only a snatch of a tune, but it was familiar to Jak.

Stay with me, the seas are dark and wild-

"Mar hums that, too," he said.

Phobos looked up. "He remembers?"

There was just a hint of a tremor in her voice, but her eyes lit up.

"Er...I think so. I don't think he knows the words though." Jak shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Well." Phobos bit the inside of her cheek and reached back to run her fingers through Mar's hair. "I didn't always sing the words to him."

A gage on the wall began to click rapidly, startling them both. Jak banged a fist against the panel and a jet of steam burst out from the seams.

Phobos jumped back and raised her eyebrows.

"Is it supposed to do that?"

The boy shrugged. "I dunno. But it stopped clicking, right?"

That earned him a snort. Phobos shook her head.

"Oh dear. You really are just like Damas, aren't you?"

Wary curiosity crept into Jak's eyes. "Am I?"

It was something he'd always wondered about. Did he get his eyes from a parent, or share their need to explore? Was he an outlier, a freak even as a child? Or would he have been enough like a parent for people to know who he was?

Did it even apply when those parents came from a completely different timeline?

"Ohhh yes." Phobos chuckled and tapped experimentally on the gage. "Your father has a lifetime ban from the mechanics' corner of the city garages."

"What did he do?" Jak breathed.

The slight awe in his voice and eyes suggested that he found the idea at least somewhat inspiring. That was...mildly concerning. But at the same time it was a little poignant. In the two days since their meeting, Jak had been holding back around the Spargans, like he was afraid to let them close. This was the first time the lonely boy had asked them a question. He sounded tentatively hopeful, like he was desperately looking for some kind of connection to make between them. Phobos could empathize with that.

"I'll tell you what," she said, glancing around conspiratorially, "Why don't you help me get Mar settled for a nap, and that way I can tell you the whole embarrassing story without Damas stopping me."

A shy, crooked smile peeked out from under the boy’s tough facade.

"Fine. You, uh, you want me to carry him?"

"No, that's alright. I'm...I'm not ready to let go yet. Thank you, though."

Phobos nudged his arm.

"Not that I doubt you could carry him easier than me. Huh. That friend of yours is as big as Mar and you just carry him around on your shoulder!"

She strolled out of the corridor with a mischievous look. "Let's pretend you got that from my side of the family, for the sake of my pride."

#jak and daxter #splinter cell au #free day thursday #fic prompts #writing prompts #jak and daxter sig #jak and daxter mar #dadmas #king damas #jak's mother #captain phobos #jak gets bonding time with his mom #damas is not above theatrics. man was definitely hiding in the corner like aragorn For Effect #Jak is about to be the focal point of the custody battle of the century #lullaby is based on Stay With Me from Into the Woods because its been stuck in my head #and Mar still doesn't know what's going on

[the-cinnamon-snail]

Speed run memorizing the Macbeth Speech Act 2 Scene One

I started at about 3pm yesterday and am already down to reciting that much from memory.

#in my defense i should have started practicing earlier #for the competition Thursday #but i didn't know that i made it in before limit was reached #so. now that i know as of yesterday I'm hauling ass cause there's no notes allowed you just have to #memorize a 3-5 minute long theatrical monolouge #no big dealio

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

i do want to see bottoms in theaters but i don't know if i'll be able to.........i made a rule that i cannot do any outings that cost money (so. all of them) until oct 20th but i will make an exception for my birthday next week.......so let's hope that bottoms is still in theaters at least by thursday or wednesday

#rn im supposed to go to an early access screening of the creator on wednesday....i could go to the theater on my actual birthday..... #or on thursday the day before......i do prefer to go to the movies in the morning and i could maybe get a ride from my dad in that case #which is cheaper... #but idk i do hope the creator will have at least a month long theatrical run #i may not go out at all we'll just have to see..........

[wilwheaton]

“After meaningful conversations, it is clear that the gap between the AMPTP and SAG-AFTRA is too great, and conversations are no longer moving us in a productive direction,” the AMPTP wrote in a press release on Wednesday night. Meanwhile, SAG is calling out Hollywood CEOs—including Netflix’s Ted Sarandos, Disney’s Bob Iger, NBCUniversal’s Donna Langley, and Warner Bros. Discovery’s David Zaslav, who are all present during the talks—for low-balling and using “bullying tactics.” “It is with profound disappointment that we report the industry CEOs have walked away from the bargaining table after refusing to counter the latest offer,” SAG’s TV/Theatrical Negotiating Committee announced on X on Thursday. “We have negotiated with them in good faith, despite the fact that last week, they presented an offer that was, shockingly, worth less than they proposed before the strike began.”

SAG-AFTRA Strike Looks Bleaker Than Ever as Talks Break Down

Oh, look, the same reprehensible billionaires are using the same failed tactics with SAG-AFTRA that they tried with WGA.

Fuck you, David Zaslav, Bob Iger, and your fellow scumbags. You’re nothing without the creative workers who are the heart of the entertainment industry. All we are asking for is reasonable protections so we can earn a living and qualify for health insurance. You want another helipad on your yacht.

As long as it takes. One day longer, one day stronger.

#sag aftra #union strong

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 7.4k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!Nanami, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby), oral (f!receiving), lots of talk about babies and children

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This was a request for husband!Nanami trying for a third baby!

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ✦ ⋆˙ yukata ┈ summer kimono ⋆ obi ┈ sash used to tie yukata and kimono ⋆ hatsutanjo ┈ baby’s first birthday! ⋆ isshou mochi ┈ a 2kg rice cake babies carry around on their first birthday ⋆ erabitori ┈ a tradition of giving the birthday babies items to choose from to determine what they’ll be like when they grow up

The park is pleasant for once. With the turn of the seasons, the weather has soothed to something far more palatable than the roaring heat of the summer. A breeze rustles through the air, kicking up the scent of freshly-trimmed grass and algae from the park’s pond. Koi fish, scaled in calico spots, swim in lazy circles as visitors toss handfuls of food into the greenish water. It’s still early afternoon on a Thursday, and aside from the elderly patrons dropping morsels into the water there’s only a few people in the park. A man walking his dog, a group of young women jogging along the park trail. The largest party is surely their own as the Nanami family gathers to celebrate their youngest daughter turning one. Nanami himself feels slightly out of place, unused to enjoying such leisure on a weekday after years of spending nearly every day of his life at work. But his wife was insistent that Yuka’s birthday be celebrated on her exact birthdate, so he requested the time away. It’s a welcomed change of pace despite the fact that it almost feels like he’s still at work with the way his coworkers–old friends, they say ruefully–have joined the celebration. It’s hardly a burden seeing how much his daughters adore Gojo and Shoko. 

The party is spread out on the patchwork of blankets laid beneath the grove of trees, family and friends all gathered together to celebrate Yuka. The birthday girl looks a bit miffed by the theatrics of it all. Her face is pinched in a nearly pensive look, bottom lip jutted out into a pout, likely unhappy with being wrapped up like an onigiri in her little yukata. She’s long since kicked off her sandals, prefering to toddle around the grass barefoot with her sack of rice cakes strapped to her back. While not usually a strict traditionalist, Nanami’s wife always defers to his parents’ judgment when it comes to how family gatherings should be managed and his mother has always been fond of following customs. 

And being the perfect daughter-in-law that you are, you always go above and beyond to suit your in-law’s needs no matter how many times Nanami reminds you that such lengths aren’t needed to please his parents. They already love you–adore you really–but you insist that you’re doing these things because you want to, not to please anyone. He believes you, of course, more enthralled than anything that you have such unwavering respect for his parents. Even when his mother gets a little uppity with how meticulous she is about planning big events. All this fanfare was her idea in the first place. 

Not the park–although it doesn’t slip Nanami’s notice that you chose somewhere close to his parents’ home to host the party–but the traditional aspects of the day were definitely the fault of his overly nostalgic mother. When your eldest daughter, Ayako, was born his mother brought out her photo albums to whine about missing when he was little because “he never let me take care of him once he got to middle school,” and cooing over how happy she is to finally be a grandmother. Though he imagines her excitement was a cross between empty nest syndrome and surprise that he’d finally settled down after spending most of his twenties burning the candle at both ends. Between being a salaryman and a sorcerer–although he’s never been very forthright about what that particular job entails–Nanami was slowly grinding himself to dust. But it only took a single glimpse of you sitting in his favorite bakery to reignite his interest in a life outside of work. His mother practically melted the first time he brought you home. Babbling and gushing, something close to tears, at how happy she was to see him bringing a girl home. Though he could’ve lived without her mentioning his lack of romantic partners up until that point. 

Now the older woman is working herself up again just watching Yuka explore the park. She has her two kilogram rice cake riding on her back in a little bag and the weight of it occasionally knocks her off her feet. Every little stumble or fall is rewarded with more maternal gushing about how “falling is good, she’s shaking off the bad luck!” It would be irritating if it were anybody else fawning over a baby, the childish tinge to her voice working Nanami’s nerves in a way he tries to ignore because, in some less zealous way, he gets it. 

Nanami’s hardly taken his eyes off Yuka since she woke up this morning. Exactly a year later and he still finds it hard to believe that she’s real. Even Ayako seems like a dream two–nearly three–years later. He never imagined he’d be a father. He wanted a wife but the family part never really came to mind. Because, really, he never saw further than what was in front of him when it came to life goals. As a sorcerer the next day was the only goal he had in mind. Fight, survive, live to see tomorrow. He’s not so bleak and nihilistic now that he’s returned to the supremely safer walls of an office, working as a manager at Jujutsu High now that he’s retired from more active duty despite his high Grade level. The pay is good and keeps him off the front lines so he can’t really complain about what was technically a demotion. 

Gojo opined about it being a waste of his potential but a flippant mention of his plans to get married shut him up real quick. Then immediately brought on another slew of complaints as the closest person he has to a friend pouted about not being introduced to his lover. Gojo hadn’t even known you existed by that point, but he’s here now. Eating and playing with Nanami’s daughters like he didn’t strong-arm him into a proper friendship after years of a strictly senior-junior working relationship. For a moment, he reconsiders the idea as Gojo’s face screws up like he’s thinking real hard about something, blue eyes staring at his daughter’s face. And he just knows Gojo is about to say something asinine. 

“Were you even in the room when you made her?” Gojo asks when Yuka tires herself out enough to sit beside him. Nanami watches his wife kiss her teeth, glowering at Gojo as she wipes Yuka’s hand with a baby wipe and hands her a dumpling she’d been reaching for. 

“I’m just saying,” Gojo continues around a mouthful of cake. “Look at her.” Yuka’s happy to be picked up even if Gojo is holding her at arm’s length like she’s a rabid puppy looking to sink her teeth into him. Never mind the fact that at exactly a year old, Yuka has all of eight teeth in her mouth that are about as formidable as the blunt end of a chopstick. She shows them off with a giggle as Gojo bounces her, seeming to enjoy the befuddled face he’s making as he looks between you and Yuka, then Yuka and Nanami. 

“I was there.” His wife grouses, stabbing a dumpling of your own as you pout. “And watch your mouth.” You nod pointedly towards the girls. Although a bit vulgar, he isn’t wrong. There’s no mistaking who Nanami’s babies belong to when they look so much like their father. Blonde hair, brown eyes, and while they’re too young to look anything other than round-faced, you’re insistent that you can just tell that their faces are going to narrow out to match his sharper features when they’re older. It doesn’t seem to bother you that they only share a passing resemblance to you. Something in the tone of their skin and texture of their hair. But Ayako definitely has your nose. 

“You should try for one that looks more like you.” Gojo whispers over Yuka’s head. Usually Nanami wouldn’t put much stock in the things Gojo says when he takes that playful tone, but something about it makes him pause. The joke passes between the two of you with a conspiratorial laugh, neither a confirmation or denial of the idea, and it tosses water on the seed Nanami has kept carefully hidden in the recesses of his mind since your first pregnancy. 

Sometimes it makes Nanami stop and think about how things turned out for him, almost guilty that he’s had a comparatively normal life when looking at the legacy most sorcerers leave behind. It’s nearly a rite of passage to perish in the line of duty at the hands of some curse. At one point, he’d been resigned to it, but every modicum of acceptance evaporated the moment he decided to marry you. Before, when you were only dating, he rationalized that his death would have less of an impact. That you’d be able to move on from a man that was so aloof towards everyone. But he is nothing if not fiercely loyal and violently protective. The moment he decided to marry you–before even asking you the question–you truly became his world. And he’s enjoyed living in it every moment since. Perhaps he doesn’t tell you often enough, still awkward and reserved about expressing his emotions, but he shows you in the ways he knows how. 

Just because he can–still learning to let himself enjoy these small moments–he reaches over to touch the nape of your neck. For the occasion, you’ve donned your own yukata, the collar pulled away from the back of your neck as is traditional. He watches the shiver work through your body as his cold fingers drag up the column of your neck. You reach to cover your exposed skin as goosebumps raise, pulling his hand away to twine your fingers together. As if by habit rather than thought, you lift your joined hands to your lips to leave a flower-petal red mark on the back of his hand. Nanami’s eyes linger on the perfect print of your lips, wondering if it’s too soon to broach the topic of another baby. Yuka is only one and Ayako is just nearly three, but he can’t help but wanna see you pregnant again. Because Gojo and his damn mouth just had to mention a baby that looks like you. Trying for a baby that looks like you. And in this quiet moment, despite everything happening around him, Nanami can’t help but linger on the thought. 

It’s a selfish wish because you’ve never complained about how your pretty girls look but he can’t help but want to try now that someone’s gone and brought it up again. His mother had preened at both hundred day celebrations, insisting that the Nanami genes are strong or why else would his girls look so much like him, so much like Nanami’s own father. And he knows it’s true to an extent, one plus one equals two and genetics work out in different ways, but Nanami can’t help the desire to try. 

He’s staring and he knows it. Eyes lingering on the shape of your lips and flutter of your lashes like he doesn’t see you everyday. His staring is only interrupted when Yuka stands up, babbling about mama, mama! with one hand pointed towards the pond while the other keeps hold of another half-eaten dumpling. 

Nanami watches you go, trailing after Yuka as she leads the way to the water. Halfway to the stones shaping out the shore, Yuka holds up her dumpling and he watches you crouch down to accept it, nipping playfully at Yuka’s fingers. His daughter squeals in delight, laughing as you scoop her up in your arms to press kisses over her face as you pretend to bite at her round cheeks. Yuka kicks and giggles, enjoying the attention as her cheeks start to blush with the marks of your lips, lipstick painting her into a doll with rosy red cheeks. It’s enthralling, the way you treat his baby, setting her down carefully at the edge of the water as she points at each fish and duck she finds skimming the pond. You’re kneeling next to her, ruining your yukata with the dirt and grime of the ground as you hold Yuka close to your side to keep her from falling into the water. 

He couldn’t have picked a better woman to have his babies, to be his wife. And even if they don’t look much like you, Nanami is glad it’s your personality that his little girls reflect. You always say babies are like sponges, sucking up traits from everything around them and he can see it plain as day in moments like this. Yuka likes being outside, shrieking with delight at every animal she sees, because she’s always following after you like a little duckling anytime you’re out in the garden. Ayako will eat any food you put in front of her because she’s always underfoot when you’re in the kitchen. Like little pieces of clay, Nanami can see the impressions your hands have left on the girls as they’ve grown. 

He’s there, too, in less obvious ways. Ayako has never complained about bedtimes, never thrown a fit about having to go to daycare because she’s just like her daddy. Nanami likes structure and punctuality and it makes his oldest easy to manage. The same way Yuka can easily speak up for herself, so quick to snap out a petulant no! if something is making her upset or uncomfortable. It always makes you laugh how prompt she is about her irritation even at such a young age. Nanami can’t help but wonder if baby number three–if and when they come along–will look like you and act more like him. 

He’s so deep in his mind, wrapped up in the thought of a baby with your eyes and his nose, that it takes his mother clapping to make him refocus. She smacks her hands together like she’s banging cymbals and Ayako decides she wants to help, clapping along from Shoko’s lap as his mother announces that it’s time for the erabitori. She digs through one of the legions of bags you brought to the outing, shooing his father aside so she can make space on the blanket for the erabitori items. Nine in all are set out on the blanket. 

Another tradition meant to guess at his child’s future. Each item has its own meaning. A 1,000 yen–weighed down with a rock to keep the breeze from carrying it off–for wealth, a calculator for an affinity for mathematics or business. You carry Yuka back from the water, setting her down once his mother has finished fiddling with the arrangements. Yuka waits patiently until she’s urged forward–rice cake in tow–towards the neat row of objects. She seems to consider everything for a moment, even smacking her little fist on the travel-sized dictionary before thinking better of it and picking up the pen instead. His mother claps again as Yuka tests the taste of the pen between her little teeth. 

“Pen!” His mother says happily. Gojo leans towards Shoko and whispers none too quietly, “What does the pen mean again?” 

“Studious.” You answer happily. “And good at writing or drawing. I didn’t have a paint brush for art but a pen is good too.” Nanami had picked up a ruler on his first birthday. Methodical. Diligent. It makes sense that he turned out so pragmatic. Ayako had picked up the pair of chopsticks and his mother had insisted on feeding her extra for the rest of the day because chopsticks mean you’ll never have to worry about food. The tradition is inoffensive, and you seem fond of it. “It’s cute!” you insisted when his mother suggested it for Ayako’s hatsutanjo. Really, he couldn’t care less what the future holds for his children as long as they’re safe and happy. He hopes his level of cursed energy is a fluke. Neither of his parents can so much as see curses, so it’s likely his girls will never become embroiled in the sorted life he’s lived up to now. Pen or chopsticks, it’s all the same to him. 

“Kento picked the ruler, do you remember?” His mother beams, working herself up into another spiel about how much she misses taking care of him. She goes on about it for a while, long enough for Yuka to abandon the pen and start fussing about the weight of the rice cake still strapped to her back. 

“C’mere, baby.” Just your voice is enough to soothe your daughter in an instant. She quiets down, little arms reaching towards you for comfort. She nuzzles her way into the collar of your yukata, nosing away the tightly wrapped fabric so she can hide beneath it. Nanami recognizes the lethargy in her arms, the way she pulls them back close to her chest the moment the straps of her issho mochi bag are pulled off. She’s tired, probably halfway to sleep already with the way she’s curled up like a cat in your lap. Shoko is in the same boat with Ayako yawning from her place in the woman’s arms. It’s been a long day, the sun turning darker as it begins to set behind the trees in beams of orange light. 

Everything is packed away with a methodical swiftness, not at all hindered by the baby on your hip. It’s not until you’re all walking towards the parking lot, exchanging final goodbyes with Gojo and Shoko, that his mother starts to drum up a fuss again. 

“Could we take them for the weekend?” There’s barely enough time to consider the question before the woman launches into a seemingly prepared speech about how their house is closer and you’ve worked hard planning and deserve a break. In the end you rouse Ayako and Yuka just enough to ask if they want to spend a few days with their grandparents. All it takes is a reminder that the ice cream shop they like is near grandma and grandpa’s house to get the babies to happily agree to visiting. His parents have always been attentive to his children so Nanami knows there’s no need to worry over not having packed any clothes or toys for the girls. Even his father’s car is already equipped with the proper car seats for each of his girls. All you need to do is kiss them goodbye and promise to call in the morning. And just because you’re clingy with your babies, you stand and pout even after the taillights of the car have disappeared around a corner. 

Nanami brushes his thumb over your jutted lip, smearing lipstick on the pad of his finger. 

“I don’t like when you’re upset, darling.” It’s a simple fact but it always gets you to ease up. He doesn’t ask you to smile–knows you hate it when men badger you about it when you’re out running errands without him–but there’s the hint of a smile on your face when he opens the car door for you. Even after so many years together, Nanami hasn’t lost his manners. At least, not outwardly because he spends the entire drive home trying to keep his hands to himself. The long skirt of your yukata makes it easier for him to behave because he can’t feel your skin when his hand drifts towards your thigh, but he wants to untie your obi the moment the last of the bags are brought in the house. 

You look perfectly ruffled from a day spent outdoors with two toddlers. Hair slowly coming loose from the updo you’d pinned it into this morning, collar hanging open after Yuka tucked her face into your chest, lipstick faded from eating and giving out kisses. He wants to muss you up further. Ruin your hair and makeup and get you out of your pretty clothes. The idea of another child is still fresh in his mind, and while he knows the responsible adult thing to do is have a proper conversation about it, Nanami can’t help but just want to fold you up and make you take it. You’ve always said you want a big family. 

“Want you in my bed.” Nanami’s lips brush against the back of your neck as his arms wrap around your waist so he can feel how you tense up, thighs squeezing as his words sink in. It’s always been easy to get you how he wants. You say it’s something about how imposing he can be, all broad shoulders and graveled whispers in your ear. It only takes a few words to get you weak in the knees and Nanami’s quick to sweep you up, carrying you to the bedroom. The bed is neatly made, the same as you left it this morning, and he’s looking to ruin it by the end of the night. He tosses you onto the duvet but you’re quick to scramble to your feet, squeaking about taking off your makeup and taking down your hair. 

“Leave it.” There hasn’t been much reason for you to get all dolled up recently and Nanami is looking forward to having your makeup run and hair hanging loose. Undoing it all now would deprive him of the pride in knowing he’d been the one to ruin it. Still, you stand in the middle of the room looking unsure of what to do so Nanami decides for you. From his seat at the edge of the bed he draws you in close by your waist. 

“Want this off, sweetheart.” He instructs, running his hands over your waist hidden beneath the bulk of your obi. It’s cute to see how shy he can make you when he tries. Getting you all flustered and nervous like he hasn’t been with you for years, like this is all new and you’re just hoping to keep his attention. His eyes have nowhere to be but on you. His pretty wife carefully undoing the bow tied in her sash as you take off your yukata like unwrapping a present. Something nice just for him as the robe slides off your shoulders and pools at your feet. Beneath it is a plain tank top and shorts but it has Nanami’s pants feeling tighter even still. Your shorts are just tight enough to bite into your skin, lining out the shape of your thighs and he reaches out to tuck his fingers up under the hem, squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer. 

A kiss is laid on the sliver of skin standing between your shorts and shirt before his hands are under there too, pushing it higher until you get the message and take it off yourself. Nanami considers keeping your shorts on. They’re the kind he could push to the side to get to where he wants to be, but he wants to see so they’re tossed aside too. He doesn’t miss the way you turn shy once he gets you in your underwear, knees knocking and feet shifting like it’s the first time all over again. It almost feels like it with the way Nanami’s brain is working overtime trying to remember which positions are best for making a baby. 

“Hi, mama,” he says, hands petting over your waist as you giggle, something sweet and breathless. 

“Hey, Kento.” Just the sounds of his name rolling off your tongue is enough to get his dick twitching, pants feeling too tight as his cock strains against his zipper. But how else is he supposed to feel after spending the day watching you be such a perfect mother for his babies? There’s no other reaction when you’re looking so beautiful and he’s got you home to an empty house. And you’re making it worse with the way your hands are running through his hair, nails scratching across his scalp in a way that sends shivers down his spine. Mumbling about “so eager, papa,” like you’re not pulling him closer as he kisses wet marks over the shape of your tummy. Your soft laughter turns to squealing as he pulls hard at your hips, tripping you up so you land on his lap. Nanami groans, can’t help being loud when you’re sitting so pretty on his dick. He can feel the heat of your pussy through his pants. 

He’s eager, but you’re right there with him, hips already moving as you grind yourself down on his cock. He’s barely touched you, just some soft words and gentle touches and your pussy is already drooling all over his pants. There’s a wet spot where you’re grinding and he likes seeing the way you’re marking him up like you’ve got anybody to compete with. His hands flex around your waist, squeezing and kneading until he decides you’re done teasing. One hand slips away to wrestle with his belt, struggling blindly over the button and zipper because he can’t take his eyes off the way your lips part around soft pants of his name. Cute little sighs of Kento that have him rushing to get his dick out of his pants. The hisses when your fingers wrap around him, squeezing softly as you thumb over the mess leaking from his flushed tip. You’re going slow, being gentle, looking at him with those pretty eyes like you need permission to touch your husband when he’s this desperate for you. 

“S’your, sweetheart.” He can’t help the way his voice dips low, sounding angry as his hips thrust into the tightness of your fist. “Whatever you want.” His hands shift from your hips to your back, running up the column of your spine at just the right time to feel you shiver. Your teeth nip at your lips, lashes batting all shy like because you love when his voice gets deep and gruff like he’s mad at you. 

“C’mon, baby,” he tries to sound sweet but he’s stuck in that low reverb that has you squirming as he lifts you up to sit on his dick. You’re real helpful, pulling your panties to the side and guiding him inside you with a whimpering sigh. He sees you trying to be quiet as your pussy struggles to take him in one go. He should’ve loosened you up on his fingers but you don’t sound upset, making little stuttering sounds as you try to take him in deeper. He has to grab your hips, muttering “slow” and you whine. He knows his voice is making it worse for you because you’ve always loved the way he talks to you. 

“Kento.” He hears your voice break as you pout when his hands keep you from taking him any deeper. He wants you to. Fuck, does he want to see your pussy swallow him all, but you’re getting too eager and he’s not about to let you hurt yourself on his dick. No matter how you bat those wet lashes at him, pouting ’cause you know he always wants his girl to have everything she wants. Especially if it’s him. He kisses between your brows, brushing back loose strands of hair, and reminds you to go slow. It’s torturous, feeling the way your pussy is already trying to milk him when he’s only halfway inside. He keeps your pace steady even as he feels you trying to buck against his strength to get him in deeper. 

“Relax, sweetheart. Gotta calm down if you want me inside.” Nanami croons, lips pressed up against the shell of your ear. That gets you to loosen up, taking in slow, steady breaths as he works you down inch by inch until he’s got you sitting all the way down on his dick. It’s enough to knock the breath out of him feeling the way your pussy is making a mess in his lap. Your thighs are shaking as you clutch at his shirt, struggling to lift yourself up. Now that he’s pressed up deep inside you, you’re trying to run away from him. He’s mean about grabbing at your hips, keeping you sitting pretty on his cock. He can feel your cunt squeezing real tight around him, pussy trying to milk him before he’s even moved and he knows the second he does he’s not gonna let you off his dick until he’s satisfied. He hears you sniffling about it being too much after trying to rush into it and it makes him smile. 

“Yeah, darlin’? S’too much? Tell me where you feel it, baby. Show me.” It takes a second for your hand to unclench from his shirt to press his fingers into the shape of his cock pressing up against your tummy. He can feel the faint shape of himself seated up inside you and it makes his cock twitch just looking at it. You always take it so well. He can tell by the look in your eyes, behind the sparkling tears, that you’re confused. He’s not usually like this, all mean and demanding. Nanami prides himself on being a gentleman and treating his pretty wife like fine china but tonight he’s acting possessed, so wrapped up in the thought of getting you with another baby. His baby. One that looks just like you, just like him. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s got you waddling around all big and pretty in the next few months. Trying to find his usually sweetness, Nanami digs past the desperation to get you bouncing in his lap, keeping your pace slow and steady even as he wants to fuck you hard and fast. That’s not how this works. His babies are made with love. Can’t have you feeling anything less than adored when he fills you up. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” It’s hard to get you to focus with the way you’re hiding your face in his chest but he gets you to look up long enough to ask if you want another baby. Your body reacts before your mouth has time to shape out the words. He feels it in the muted sting of your nails biting into his shoulders through his shirt, sees it in the way your eyes widen and head nods. 

“Want it. Want another baby.” You agree, stuttering over how fast you’re trying to get the words out. Whining about, “as many as you want, Kento.” That’s all it takes. He pulls you down hard, making you take him to the base in another deep stroke that has you keening. You’re starting to move on your own, rushing to fuck it out of him. He’s still got his hands on you, squeezing at the softness of your thighs as they shake and tense with how hard you’re riding him. Nanami’s seen you eager but this something else. Something wild and desperate. All he can focus on is the way your cunt is gripping him like you never want to let him go. Good, because he doesn’t wanna let you go either. 

He knows he’s crowding you, but he can’t help but wrap his arms around you. Around your waist and up your back so he can cradle your head and make you look at him while you bounce on his cock. Black streaks are already running down your cheeks as he’s looking to smudge your lipstick beyond saving as his lips seal over yours. It’s hardly a kiss with the way your lips can’t close around each panting breath but he swallows all your little noises happily, tongue sweeping over yours. 

“Gonna cum for me, darling?” He asks when you really start getting noisy, whimpering and moaning but still keeping quiet like you don’t have the house to yourselves. He can feel your whole body shaking and he reaches between your bodies to work his fingers over your clit. It nearly kills him, how hard you clench as he teases the sensitive little bud. You’ve stopped riding and started grinding, moving your hips in those damning circles that barely do anything for him but he lets you because he knows it feels good to you the way his cock is stirring up your insides. He presses a kiss to your forehead and tells you to keep going ’cause Nanami likes when his wife feels good on his dick even if he’s not getting anything from it. He’s here for you, for your pleasure. All you gotta do is take it. And you do. Wetting his fingers as you come hard, slick leaking down his dick as you shudder through your orgasm. 

“Feels good, baby?” He knows it does. You’re grabbing onto him like you’ll fall apart if he’s not there to hold you up, trying your best to get up. He watches your struggle, the rough pads of his fingers still teasing at your clit even as you jerk at the overstimulation. He’s got you so loose that your legs are useless as you try to sit up, every little shift only sinking you deeper on his cock because you can’t find the strength to get up with how hard your legs are shaking. Nanami keeps you there with a hand on your hip, not pulling you down or lifting you up, just keeping your hips grinding against his dick until he feels you cumming again. A smaller, more fluttering orgasm that has you clenching real nice around his cock. 

He kisses your spit-soaked lips with soft praises of “just like that, sweetheart,” chuckling darkly at how soft and pliant you’re getting. It’s like you’re melting in his arms, so wet you’re swallowing him back inside and it gets him close when he feels you take him all over again. He hears his name, soft and shuddering as you try to break through the prolonged pleasure. He can’t tell if it’s praise or a complaint so he helps you up to your knees, going slow so you feel every inch of him as it slips out of your wet heat. He’s absolutely leaking against his stomach, leaving a wet patch on his shirt as he lays you down properly. You’re tired, he can tell, but you’re still pawing at his arms and whining about how he didn’t come yet. 

“Said you were gonna give me a baby.” It almost hurts how hard you’ve got him with just a few words and that little pout. He brushes his fingers over your lips like he always does when you pull that face and you open your mouth to take them inside, tongue cleaning up the mess you’ve left on his fingers. Fuck. He snatches his hand out of your mouth and you smirk like you know exactly what you did sucking on his fingers like they were his cock. If he wasn’t so close to the edge he might consider letting you taste the real deal, let you choke on his cock the way you so clearly want to. But he’s not sure he’ll last and he wants all his come going inside your cunt tonight. Anywhere else would be a waste. Can’t get you pregnant by cumming down your throat. 

There’s not much of a show in the way he takes off his clothes but you stare like you don’t ever want to see anything else as he pops each button of his shirt. It’s tossed aside with little fanfare and he remembers you’re still partially clothed so he spares the moment to unhook your bra and drag your soaked panties down your legs. It’s got you all shy again like he can’t see the way your cunt is still dripping, thighs shiny as you press them together and watch him kick off his slacks. He knows he needs a moment before he touches you again because it’s getting hard to remember to treat you nicely with the way his mind is cluttered with all the little things he’s missed about seeing you pregnant. 

The subtle swell of your belly in the first few months when you complain about how you look fat and bloated, not pregnant. Getting to watch you putter around the kitchen, making the most abhorrent flavor profiles he’s ever seen in the hopes of quelling your cravings. He can’t wait to hear the nickname you give your baby bump. Ayako was “bean sprout” and Yuka had been “bunny” because she was always kicking. 

Nanami tries to focus on something softer so he isn’t too rough with you. Usually it wouldn’t matter as long as you’re feeling good but tonight is special–making babies is special–and he doesn’t want to look back and say baby number three was all heat and aggression. So he stops to take his time, pressing warm kisses up your legs until he’s got his head between your thighs. Your hands are in his hair again as he puts your legs over his shoulders, nails scratching over the tapered cut at the nape of his neck. He rewards the feeling with a long tease of his tongue as his lips wrap around your clit. He hears that little sound you always make when he’s got his head between your thighs. A little fluttering gasp that has him humming because he loves hearing his wife feel good, even if you’re still stifling your voice. 

One hand leaves his hair as he tongues at your cunt, covering your mouth like he doesn’t want to hear every little noise he can draw out of you. He can feel how good you’re feeling riding his tongue. Feel you dripping down his chin and wetting his cheeks as he drags the flat of his tongue over your clit with quick strokes. He’s making a mess as his tongue teases at your fluttering hole. You’re canting your hips, pulling him closer with sharp tugs at his hair. There’s desperation in the way you’re riding his face, getting him all wet as you grind your clit against his nose like he didn’t just have you gushing on his dick. Your little pussy is greedy, swallowing two fingers at once as he presses them up inside you, hooking against the place that has your back arching and thighs clenching. Nanami groans at the feeling of your soft legs closing around his head, locking him in where you want him most. 

This time you come with a muffled shout, voice breaking over the sound of his name. A quiet mantra of Kento, Kento, Kento fills his head as Nanami drags out each shiver and jolt until you’re really pulling at his hair, trying to get his mouth off your pretty little cunt. Threads of spit and slick draw a line between his mouth and your twitching pussy and he can’t help but lavish a few more kisses between your legs before he’s sucking your taste off his fingers. 

“One more, sweetheart.” He’s nearly begging as he crawls up your shivering body. “Gimme one more and then I’ll let you rest, promise.” He seals it with a kiss, loving the way you cling to keep him close even when he barely moves away from you. 

“Can you do that for me, darling?” He asks just to make sure he hasn’t tired you out yet. You nod, eyes misty with tears as you reach between your bodies to guide him inside you. It’s different with how wet you are. It feels like he’s melting as he bottoms out inside you, real slow like he hasn’t already loosened you up more than enough. You take him to the hilt and he nearly cums just from the soft, hazy look on your face. Something drunk and lovestruck as you stare up at your husband. Nanami thinks he must look just the same as he presses kisses over your face, tasting the salt of sweat and tears. His sweet little wife, doing so good for him. He says as much as he pulls away just to press back inside. You shiver and wrap yourself around him. Arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips. There’s barely any space between you. Everything is skin against skin as he kisses you, tongue chasing yours as you whine into his mouth. 

“Wanna hear you,” Nanami grits after another pretty sound is lost as you hide your face in his neck. “S’just us, sweetheart. Lemme hear your pretty voice.” He shifts his hips, aiming higher so he can find that place that has you keening. It takes a few more grinding thrusts to get you wailing, nails biting into his skin as he works those beautiful sounds out of you. It’s still not as loud as he wants, as loud as you used to be, but it’s enough. Gets his blood pumping and balls tightening as you whine about how good he feels inside you. He can feel himself getting close. His pace starts to break, losing his rhythm as he teeters on the edge. Nanami looks between you and sees the way you’re creaming on his cock, getting him all sticky and wet as you make a mess on the sheets. He can feel your pussy milking him, feel the way your thighs are trembling around his waist. 

“C’mon, honey.” You’re brushing his hair away from his face, pulling him in until he can feel each panting breath brushing against his lips. “Want your baby. Gimme another.” Fuck. Something about that little pout and the way you sound so desperate and longing get him. Nanami feels himself tensing up, arms slipping underneath your body to hold you close to his chest. A litany of rumbled groans wells up in his chest as he presses in as deep as you’ll let him, cumming hard inside you. 

He knows you feel it ’cause you make a little gasping sound, hips squirming until he presses you still against the mattress. You take it so well, sniffling and whining as you thank him for filling you up. 

“Y’know I always give you what you want, mama.” And he does because even if he’s only really acted on it today, the thought of having another baby has been on his mind for months. And you haven’t helped looking so beautiful while taking care of his babies. Of course he wants another. How could he not? He presses gentle kisses against your face; your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, until you stop shivering in his arms. Even though he doesn’t want to, Nanami reaches for a pillow to prop your hips up as he pulls out. He goes real slow just to watch how you squirm at the feeling of his cock sliding against your sensitive walls. 

“You think that did it?” Nanami almost laughs at the eagerness of your tone, a doting half smile playing on his lips as his thumbs rub circles just under your navel. 

“I dunno,” he says fondly. There’d been a strategy to conceive your first two babies. Checking calendars and tracking ovulation to line everything up for the best chance, and it worked out perfectly. This time was spur of the moment. No discussion, no planning. Just a desperate need to get his wife pregnant again. To see what pretty baby you’d give him this time. It doesn’t really matter it baby number three is made tonight or any night in the future because he’s happy to fuck you into the sheets even without baby making in mind. Still, it’s sweet to know that you’re right there with him. 

Nanami sank a good chunk of his savings from his office job into buying this big house and you’re more than happy to fill it up with happy little babies with him. He kisses your belly even though there’s no way to know if it took just yet, burying his face in the softness of your tummy. Your hands are back in his hair, stroking through the sweaty mess of blonde locks with enough softness to nearly lull him to sleep. Except he knows he needs to get up, needs to clean you up and get the sheets sorted out before he can fully relax. There’s painstaking dedication to the way he takes care of you. Undoing your hair and washing your face. The smell of you clings to him after a shower. The scent of your hair and skin. Something uniquely you that overwhelms him as he pulls you into his arms. He hears you mumble something about “don’t leave,” when his arm loosens from around your shoulder just long enough to grab the book from his nightstand. 

“I’m not going anywhere, darling.” And he means it because where would he go when his world revolves around his family? He’d be lost without you and his little girls, with–hopefully–another on the way. 

#nanami ★ #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami x reader #jjk smut #★ mine!

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Dry Your Tears

Plot: Joel, Y/n, Henry, Sam and Ellie make their way out of the tunnel system, but Kansas City refuses to let them leave.

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, implied s*ut, language, canon-typical violence, knives, blood, death, loss of a child, s*icide, (16+)

A/N: Oh, we’re really in it, y’all. This is the last chapter in which you get any sense of happiness, so hold it close to your heart. It all really goes to shit after this…

As always, and I really need people to read this, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless their age is listed in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Good night, and good luck, my loves ❤️

———————

May 27th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

The referee’s whistle rang through the air, signaling the play was starting. Sarah had the ball, her team was one goal away from winning the season. If she nailed the shot, she’d bring them to victory.

Now, on his own, Joel was one of the loudest and proudest parents at the games. Adding in Tommy and Y/n had made them their own cheer section.

“Go, Sarah!” Y/n yelled.

“C’mon, babygirl,” Joel clapped, “C’mon.”

“Fuckin’ nail it,” Tommy cheered, earning a light knock to the chest from Y/n, “Frickin’ nail it!”

Sarah wasn’t listening to any of them, she was in the zone. She wound her leg back and kicked the ball, it flew through the air and straight through the goalie’s arms.

Y/n screamed and leapt into Joel’s arms, the whole crowd cheered wildly. Joel spun her around, this felt like a victory for all of them considering how much time they’d spent practicing with Sarah.

After celebrating with her team and taking their yearly photo, Sarah bounded over to her family.

Joel picked his daughter up, not caring if he was embarassing her. Sarah hugged him back.

“You were amazing,” he said, setting her back on the grass.

“You’re so freakin’ good, it hurts,” Y/n grinned, wrapping Sarah in her arms.

“Thanks,” the girl smiled up at Y/n.

Tommy high fived his niece, “Calls for a celebration.”

The four of them drove downtown to the ice cream shop. They parked themselves outside at a table in the shade. In celebration of Sarah’s impending graduation, her recent birthday and Y/n and Joel’s one year anniversary, they were driving down to the beach for a weekend.

“Okay,” Joel said in between bites, “I’ve got the confirmation for the hotel printed out.”

“I’m going to the store tomorrow to pick up the food,” Y/n raised her spoon.

Sarah hummed enthusiastically, swallowing her dessert quickly. “Can you pick me up when you do?”

“Yes,” Y/n nodded, “But you can’t run me into debt.”

“Can I come?” Tommy asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

“You will run me into debt,” Y/n replied with a smile.

Tommy reached into his wallet, theatrically handing Y/n a twenty dollar bill. “Beer money,” he clarified.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied, stuffing the money into her jean pocket, “What time are we leaving on Thursday?”

“I figure 9,” Joel answered, “Try and beat the traffic.”

Practical as he was, Joel was also plain excited. This was the first family vacation Y/n was joining them for.

“We’re leavin’ on a Thursday mornin’,” Tommy interjected, “There’s not gonna be any traffic.”

Joel peeked across the table to Y/n, who met his eyes with an equal level of contained enthusiasm. Celebrating one year of her in his life didn’t warrant waiting a single minute longer than necessary.

“Won’t hurt anybody,” Joel responded, shooting his girlfriend a wink.

————————

Come Thursday, the Millers and guest loaded their bags and coolers into Joel’s truck.

“Sarah?” Y/n called from the bottom of the stairs, they were nearly ready to leave and she was still upstairs, “We gotta go, babe.”

“Coming,” she yelled down, skipping out of her room and down the stairs, carrying something in her hand.

“Whatcha got?” Y/n pointed to the small package.

Sarah waved it nonchalantly in the air, “It’s an anniversary present. For you and Dad.”

Y/n’s heart swelled, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did,” she gave a small smile, before scrunching up her face, “Just please don’t make out the entire trip.”

Snorting, Y/n wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck and walked the two of them out of the house.

Joel and Tommy had just finished their thirty minute game of Tetris with the luggage. There were so many bags for only four days and four people.

“No,” Tommy called out, spotting Sarah’s present, “Not one more fuckin’ thing comes into this truck.”

“It’s a carry-on,” Y/n shouted back with a smile, patting Sarah’s arm after, “Be there in a minute.”

Sarah skipped off to the backseat, passing her dad as she did. Joel ruffled her hair before locking eyes with Y/n across the driveway. She looked so natural, standing on his porch with his daughter in her arms, locking up the front door with her spare key. She’d settled into the family so well.

“See somethin’ you like?” Y/n smiled, sticking her nose up in the air and letting the sun hit her.

“Somethin’ I love,” Joel replied, walking slowly towards her. He encircled her waist with one arm, his other hand holding her hip.

Y/n let her hands slide up Joel’s chest, “Your daughter has requested a vow of celibacy from us this weekend.”

Joel chortled, “That’s ‘cause one day she woke up and decided us lookin’ at each other was disgusting.”

“Well, then,” Y/n got on he tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the tip of Joel’s nose, “Save it for the evenings.”

Joel nuzzled his nose against her cheek, savoring the warmth of her skin and the promise of her words.

“What happened to beatin’ traffic?” Tommy teased from the passenger seat.

Rolling his eyes, Joel turned around to his brother and glared at him. Tommy just smirked and tapped his foot against the dashboard.

“Come on,” Y/n intertwined her fingers with Joel’s, pulling him behind her and marching them both to the truck.

“Seatbelts,” Joel ordered as he got in the front seat.

Y/n settled herself in the backseat next to Sarah, who absentmindedly grabbed her hand and started playing with it. Of all the milestones her and Joel had hit in the past year, Sarah’s casual comfort with her was Y/n’s proudest.

“Alright, gang,” Joel started up the car and backed it out of the driveway, “6 hour drive, settle in.”

Y/n and Sarah cheered from the backseat and Joel swore he could feel a physical warmth spread across his chest.

—————————

It took them all day to get to South Padre Island, having stopped for bathroom breaks and lunch on the way, but they made it in one piece.

Their hotel was modest and one of many on the strip that backed straight up to the beach. The view from the balcony was unmatched, nothing but sand and ocean as far as the eye could see.

Their first full day there, they spent all day on the beach. It was early enough in the year that the full force of summer’s heat hadn’t hit yet. Joel stayed with their cooler, messing around on the guitar he’d brought in a beach chair. Tommy switched between relaxing in the shade with a beer and flirting with whatever lucky woman was in their vicinity. Sarah and Y/n walked the shore, searching for seashells.

Leaving Sarah to keep hunting, Y/n walked back to their spot, admiring the sight before her. Joel looked more at ease than she’d ever seen him, strumming away in the cool shade.

“You’re ogling me’,” he said, trying to sound put off.

“You look happy,” Y/n smiled, pushing past the humor.

Joel peeked up over his sunglasses, taking in the wind blowing through her hair and how the sun shone off her skin. “I am happy,” he replied.

Y/n walked around the back of his chair, bending over to encircle his neck. Joel kept on playing, trying to stay focused as she pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

Looking out on the beach, Y/n’s eyes found Tommy, buying some girl an ice cream at a vendor’s cart. She watched Sarah, crouched down in the sand and hot on the trail of a particular shell. With Joel in her arms, and her chosen family happy, she felt like everything in her world was just as it should be.

Y/n rested her chin on Joel’s shoulder, “Me too.”

��————————

They’d celebrated both Sarah’s graduation and Y/n’s anniversary on Saturday night with dinner on the beach. There’d been good food and good laughter, especially when Sarah tried oysters for the first time, managing to swallow the bite with a grimace.

When gifts were exchanged, Y/n, Joel and Tommy had compiled their money to get Sarah tickets to see her favorite band. She’d leapt out of her chair and bear hugged all three of them. For Joel and Y/n’s anniversary, she handed them a CD she’d burned a playlist to. Songs she’d heard them listen to or that the three of them had sung together in the car or while Joel played guitar.

Deep into the evening, when Tommy and Sarah had retired to their room across the hall, Joel and Y/n celebrated their anniversary privately.

Joel’s body weight Y/n’s down, pinning her hands above her head and pressing soft kisses across her face. At some point in the night, she’d slipped on his t-shirt. He was convinced that if there was a heaven on earth, he was in it.

“Promise me something,” Y/n breathed, her lips brushing Joel’s cheekbone.

Joel rubbed his nose against Y/n’s, “Anything.”

Pressed into the bed, completely consumed by the man she loved, with a soft ocean breeze flooding through their balcony window, Y/n was in utter bliss. There was nothing that could have made the moment more perfect.

“Promise me it’ll always be like this,” Y/n whispered, her urging eyes boring into Joel’s, “Even when it isn’t.”

Joel’s grip on Y/n’s hands loosened, letting her slip out of his hold with a need to feel her arms around him. Neither of them were under any illusion that life was without its problems, they’d run into them eventually. But through it all, Joel knew that the one thing that would never fade was their complete and utter devotion to one another. That was forever.

Joel brushed away a strand of hair stuck to Y/n’s face from the ocean’s humidity. He ran the tips of his fingers along her cheek, down her neck, tracing the path his lips had traveled moments ago.

“Always,” he promised, his voice soft, but determined.

The room’s energy was emotionally charged, bringing tears to Y/n’s eyes as she gazed up at Joel. He looked so beautiful hanging over her, it nearly broke her heart. She was so overcome with love for this man, she truly didn’t know if she could handle any more. Joel overwhelmed her in the sweetest way possible.

The moonlight reflected off a single teardrop that slipped down Y/n’s cheek. Joel adjusted himself in concern, taking her face into his hand, “What’s wrong?”

Y/n smiled, she’d never known one could be moved to tears by the simple act of adoring someone. “I just love you,” she pushed past the lump in her throat.

Joel’s breath caught in his chest. Even though he’d heard her say those words a hundred times, something about this utterance felt new.

He stroked his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tear’s streak. They lay intwined, coming alive in one another’s eyes. They’d known for months, really since their first kiss, that they’d be together a long, long time…but there, in a beachside hotel, wrapped in lily white sheets and each other, they knew they could never leave one another.

Joel dove back into Y/n’s lips, his hands slipping under his shirt she wore to hold her hips. He prayed that when the day came for him to die, he’d do so in her arms, her kiss stealing his final breath.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

While the tensions were high the whole way, the five survivors made it through the tunnel system with no issues.

“Do you know where we are?” Joel asked Henry as they made their way through a door. He was still suspicious, nothing was ever as simple as a few tunnels and some luck.

“Yeah,” he answered, “The other side.”

Henry shone his flashlight on a dirty sign stating that it was, indeed, the parking lot to the Bank of America building. They’d made it out. Y/n huffed a sigh of relief, it was a much needed win.

The group headed for the street of the residential area, it was dark and empty allowing them the perfect cover. Joel had still insisted on no flashlights, just to be safe.

Joel led the group, with Ellie, Sam and Henry at the rear, and Y/n sandwiched between. She didn’t particularly feel like being near Joel after the conversation with Henry. She was still trying to shake the memories from her brain, twenty years of wasted energy and not a single one had faded.

Joel didn’t quite know what to do either. He felt at war with himself, a poorly docked ship being drawn out to the open waters against its will. It was getting harder to deny the increasing intensity of his pull to her. Not that it mattered, he still considered her a liar and she hated him with a passion that would never die. But seeing her with the kids, showing the humanity still left in her, had left him unsettled. It was like seeing a home he could never go back to.

“No,” Henry said, having just been signing with Sam, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because…my plan worked.

“So much damn talkin’,” Joel remarked from the front of the group.

“I’m just saying,” Henry continued, “I delivered. Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house…and we’re out.”

Y/n and Joel wanted to believe that they were home free, but they’d seen more of the current world than anyone else in the party. Things that seemed too good to be true, almost always were.

“So we cross the river and then what?” Ellie asked, “Where ya gonna go?”

“Don’t know yet,” Henry shrugged.

“Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming,” Ellie announced.

Joel glared back at her, earning a light hit to the arm from Y/n, who glared right back at him.

“What?” Ellie replied, “It’s a huge state, it can fit two more people.”

“Yeah,” Henry stretched the syllable, not any more keen on the idea than Joel, “Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.”

Y/n drifted to walk alongside Joel, his stubbornness breathing a little bit of life back into her. “If you’ve got any happy pills left in your pocket,” she muttered low enough for only them to hear, “I suggest you take them.”

Joel shook his head, glancing out the side of his eyes at her. He couldn’t decide if her silence or her snark was preferable.

“No, he’ll change his mind,” Ellie said to Henry, “Trust me. This is how it goes, he’s like,” she dropped her voice and added a twinge of an accent, “‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.”

Y/n couldn’t stop the snort before it escaped her, it physically jerked her body forward. When she looked up, Joel’s hardened stare was resting on her.

“That supposed to be funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” Y/n smiled, still trying to contain her laughter, “And you know it.”

“And then I’m like,” Ellie continued, “‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like-“

A gunshot flew past them, killing only the levity.

Joel and Y/n ran for Ellie at the same time, colliding with one another in a heap of arms.

“Move! Move!” Joel ordered, shoving both of them forward, “Go!”

The five of them dove for cover behind an abandoned car, crouching on the asphalt.

“Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asked, shielding Sam with his body.

“Shut up,” Joel ordered, peeking his head above the trunk of the car to scan the area. As soon as he was semi-visible, another gunshot hit one of the nearby vehicles.

Henry tried to get a look at the house where the fire seemed to be coming from, earning another close call.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing Sam’s hand, “Let’s move. Let’s go.”

“Henry!” Y/n shouted through her teeth.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yelled, not budging.

“Getting the fuck outta here,” Henry called back, barely making it to the other side of the road before another shot blew past them. He rushed him and Sam back to the first car, “What do we do?”

Y/n and Joel’s brains were working overtime, trying to figure out the best possible course of action. Joel, closest to the house he guessed the gunman was inside, peeked out once more and got another near fatal shot. He was right.

“All right,” Joel breathed, “Stay here.”

“What?” Y/n and Ellie exclaimed in unison.

Joel turned to them, addressing Ellie but drifting his eyes to Y/n at the end of each sentence. “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I’ll take him out.”

“No,” Y/n blurted out, “No fucking way.”

“Yeah, if you go out there, he’s gonna kill you,” Ellie agreed.

“It’s dark and he has shit aim,” Joel countered, “Nobody’s gonna kill me.”

“Then he’s gonna kill us,” Ellie replied.

Joel’s eyes flicked between the kid and the woman behind her. He addressed Ellie first, “Do you trust me?”

Hesitating, but eventually rolling her eyes and nodding, Ellie answered.

Joel looked up to Y/n, silently begging her to listen to him. He’d trusted her when Ellie had revealed her immunity, now he needed her to do the same.

Y/n wanted to be unreasonable and illogical, to stew in her anger a little longer. But Joel hadn’t failed them yet on their journey, this wasn’t the place to start.

“You go around the left,” Y/n countered, “I’ll create a diversion so he won’t see you coming.”

“You stay here,” Joel replied, his voice turning to steel.

It was the first time that Y/n didn’t want to argue. She withdrew her pistol from her holster, “I wasn’t asking.”

Joel was busting his ass trying to make sure she was safe and she was throwing herself into open fire to protect him. He felt sick to his stomach.

Y/n took Joel’s reluctant nod and mirrored it, hoping she looked more confidant than she felt. They both brushed a hand against Ellie’s arm, who was terrified to let the only two people she cared about run headfirst into danger.

Joel and Y/n crossed past one another, he grabbed her arm to stop her. The pain-stricken worry in both their eyes communicated all that they couldn’t out loud.

They took up their positions on either end of the car, cocking their guns and drawing a deep breath. Joel nodded to Y/n, signaling for her to move.

Y/n jumped out from the car and ran for the one directly across from her. A gunshot kissed the air behind her, she slid into the asphalt behind the vehicle like it was third base. She could feel the fear creeping up her spine, threatening to break her, but breaking wasn’t an option. Tess’ last wish rang in her ears; keep Joel safe.

Spotting the next car, in the row, she made a beeline for it, dodging two shots on each side of her. She kneeled behind the trunk, peeking out just enough to fire a distracting shot towards the house.

“C’mon, Joel,” she whispered.

Joel was making his way down the street, Y/n serving as the most perfect and unwelcome distraction. Every shot sent a cold shot of panic through him, terrified that the gunman was going to be too quick for her. Just before making it behind the house, he snuck a look over his shoulder and caught her racing across the street, dodging more fire. It urged him to move faster.

Y/n was getting closer and closer to the house, praying that Joel had made it. When she made a clean run to the next car, she assumed that he’d put a stop to the fight. A final shot rang out, but it had come from a different gun. Joel’s gun.

Y/n slumped against the car and exhaled, he was safe.

Joel felt grief pass over him, a drop of it trickling down his throat, as he grabbed the old man’s rifle. He was about to stick his head out the window and signal to Y/n that they were clear, until a sound caught his ear.

“Anthony…Anthony…” a staticky voice called, Joel tracked it beside the old man’s body and found a walkie-talkie, “Anthony, hold them where they are.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, rushing to the window, “Run!”

Y/n stood up, Joel’s voice reassuring her they were in the clear before she registered his words.

“Run!”

Y/n bolted back toward Ellie, Sam and Henry. In the near distance, she could hear the sound of a truck. The same one they’d been dodging for the past day.

“Run!” Joel urged, watching Y/n’s shadow run straight towards the threat.

The truck’s headlights shone down the street, shining right on Y/n. She collided with Ellie, wrenching the girl ahead of her and racing back towards the house. Behind them, the fleet of trucks were beginning to plow through the rows of cars.

Determined, Joel started to fire at the truck’s windows, trying to take out the driver.

Blindly, Ellie and Y/n began to fire their pistols at the main truck after them. Without being able to take proper aim, their attempts failed, but they kept trying.

Ellie’s gun ran out of bullets as the truck began to gain on her. Y/n wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pushing her to go faster. Ellie tripped, bringing Y/n down with her. Y/n enveloped the girl in her arms, putting her body between the truck and Ellie.

At that exact moment, Joel had fired a perfect shot, taking out the driver and causing the truck to crash through the front of a nearby house. He’d bought them mere seconds, a whole fleet of cars were behind them and their passengers were about to surround Ellie and Y/n.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, pulling Ellie to her feet, “Move.”

They’d barely made it two steps before they were thrown to the ground again by a blast. The crash had somehow started a fire and both the vehicle and the house surrounding it were set ablaze.

The smoke filled Y/n’s lungs, restricting her airways and letting dizziness to set in. The only clear thought ringing through her head was Ellie, save Ellie.

Joel watched helplessly as Ellie and Y/n lay on the ground. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, waiting for them to get up. Henry, a godsend in that moment, darted out from behind a car and pulled them both to their feet.

Y/n stumbled back to the car Henry had sought as protection, blindly reaching for Ellie and making herself a barricade once again.

“You okay?” Henry asked them both.

“Yeah,” Ellie muttered, Y/n gave a breathless nod.

Up above the flames, Joel watched a group of rebels walk through the smoke with guns drawn on his window, calling out orders to raid the house. They’d found him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, hiding behind the wall. Unlucky for them, Joel wasn’t so easy to throw in the towel and lose his life.

Below, Kathleen surveyed the damage, strolling casually amongst the flames. “Dead end, Henry,” she called, “Gonna step on out? Save us some time?”

“Is that her?” Y/n whispered, Henry nodded in response.

“No?” Kathleen asked, her tone was eerily even, “That’s all right. Doesn’t matter.”

Henry looked to Sam, who Y/n had an arm around, and knew what he had to do. “I’ll come out,” he replied, “Just let the kids go!”

“No,” Kathleen responded, “Sorry. The girl is with the two who killed Bryan, don’t think I don’t know that the woman’s back there with you too.”

Y/n shut her eyes, the back of her head digging into the car. She knew she’d die eventually, she woke every day faced with the possibility of death. But she wasn’t about to die before she could get Ellie out west.

Joel’s blood ran cold at Kathleen’s words, his hands squeezing the rifle tighter. He had to fight every instinct to fire a bullet straight through her head.

“And Sam” Kathleen continued, “Well, Sam’s with you.”

“You don’t understand,” Henry yelled.

“But I do,” she said calmly, “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”

“He’s just a fucking kid!” Henry called back.

“Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time.”

Y/n’s fear turned to shock and that shock turned to rage. Deep, bitter, twenty year old rage.

Joel watched carefully from his spot, feeling the anger swell in him.

“You think the whole world revolves around him?” Kathleen continued her monologue, “That he’s worth everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

Henry turned to Y/n and Ellie, bracing himself for his own fate. “Get ready to take him, and run,” he instructed.

“No,” Y/n argued, “I’m not-“

“Yes,” he said, his voice like steel, “Do it.”

Y/n gave in, nodding and taking Sam’s hands with Ellie. “You stay in front of me at all time,” she instructed, reaching out for the girl, “If I go down, you don’t turn back.”

Ellie’s eyes widened, “But-“

“You don’t turn back,” Y/n repeated, forcing her voice to sound strong.

“It’s time, Henry,” Kathleen gritted, her soft voice suddenly dripping with venom, “Enough!”

Henry took a few shuddering breaths before getting to his feet, hands raised in the air. Sam anxiously started to go after his brother, but Ellie and Y/n pulled him back to the ground. The three of them sat there, Y/n and Ellie’s pulses racing as they waited for the inevitable sound, their signal to move.

“It ends the way it ends,” Kathleen said, her calm demeanor returning.

Y/n froze as she listened to Kathleen cock her pistol, squeezing Sam’s hand a little tighter.

But the bullet never came.

Instead, there was a terrible creak from the totaled truck. Ellie scrambled to get a peek while staying hidden, Y/n held up a hand to her and poked the tip of her head out. Just enough to see the car sink into the wreckage of the burning house.

Joel aimed his rifle and came to the window, watching it all happen from above.

Three ominous seconds of silence.

And then they came.

Hordes of Infected came sprinting out of the sinkhole.

Henry rushed back to their spot, Y/n and him shoved the kids in between them and sinking against the car as far as they could. One of the Infected leapt on the hood, a well-timed bullet sinking into its skull.

Joel reloaded the gun, waiting for the next shot.

“Come on,” Henry called, the four of them got to their feet and took off in the direction of the embankment.

Ellie obeyed and stayed ahead of Y/n, who was frantically cocking her handgun. One Infected was chasing after them and she couldn’t get her weapon ready in time.

Joel aimed at the creature trailing Y/n and fired. The body lurched forward, falling on Y/n and causing both her and Ellie to topple to the ground.

Somewhere in their fall, Y/n and Ellie had lost sight of Henry and Sam. Y/n kicked the dead body off of them and glanced up towards the house, she knew who was acting as their guardian angel. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a job to do as well.

“Car,” Ellie yelled, having quickly crafted a plan in her head.

“Stay low,” Y/n responded.

The two of them army crawled their way through the chaos, screams of both the living and Infected filling the air.

Joel tracked their movements, shooting down any Infected that even looked in their direction.

Ellie and Y/n ran the final distance and dove into the abandoned car through an open window. As Infected began to crawl across the behicle, banging against the windows, one of Joel’s bullets took each one out.

“Get to the back,” Y/n instructed.

The two of them crawled over the seats, taking shelter in the very rear of the vehicle. Ellie’s eyes were wide with terror as she watched the scene play through the dirty glass.

Joel saw them make it in, but his relief didn’t last long. He watched as one of the Infected snaked through the window and into their car. His breath trembled, taking aim and realizing he couldn’t do a damn thing to help them.

Y/n and Ellie heard the dreadful snarling together, their heads turning to watch the Clicker flip through the front seat of the car. Y/n raised her gun and took aim.

Click.

She was out of bullets.

Joel’s brain switched off, his primal instinct to protect taking over as he fired relentless shot after relentless shot, trying to take the Infected out.

The Clicker acrobatically made its way through the car. Ellie blindly reached for the door handle, whimpering in fear as she couldn’t open it. Y/n kicked it with her boot and it swung out, she shoved Ellie roughly out of the car. Y/n slid out, slamming the door behind them and feeling the slam of the Clicker throwing itself against the window.

Joel had lost visual on them briefly, but saw the swing of the car door and how it was still rocking. They’d trapped it.

Somewhere in the noise, a child’s cry could be heard. Y/n’s eyes darted around them, finally spotting Henry and Sam trying to fend off a group of Infected underneath a car.

“Help! Get the fuck away!“ Henry screamed, kicking at one of the creatures, “Get the fuck off me!”

Ellie looked first to Y/n, who was already pulling out her knife from where she hid it in her boot, before they both looked up to where Joel was. Y/n could barely make out his face with the distance.

Joel looked down, knowing that they couldn’t possibly be making eye contact from so far away, but knowing that they were on the same wavelength.

They had to work as a team.

“Go!” Y/n yelled, and they were off.

Joel shot with more precision than he ever had, this was the most he’d ever had at stake. As Y/n and Ellie moved through the crowd, he took out every Infected that were heading for them. He worked as a machine, but the terror he felt was the most human sensation he’d experienced in years.

Y/n shed her humanity, becoming more beast than woman, mercilessly ripping through the throats of any Infected that came near Ellie. She swung onto one’s back, stabbing her knife into its head, and let the collapse of its body land her back on the ground.

Joel and Y/n worked seamlessly together, ground and aerial coming together to protect the one thing that couldn’t be lost. Or in Joel’s case, two somethings.

Ellie and Y/n finally made it to Sam and Henry, there were two clickers still clawing at them. One dragged Henry out from underneath the car, Ellie got behind it and stabbed it. Y/n wrenched the Clicker attacking Sam backwards, staring into where its eyes would have been as she sliced through its heart.

A bullet whizzed past her head, landing in the monster’s skull. Joel needed to be sure.

“Come on, come on,” Ellie helped their friends to their feet, “Go! Go!”

Y/n shoved Ellie in front of her again and they fled the chaos, climbing into the lawn of the house Joel was in.

“Stop!”

The four of them turned to see Kathleen with her gun aimed at Henry, but her eyes flicking between him and Y/n. They didn’t have time to fear for their lives, they clocked the same Clicker who’d almost gotten her and Ellie creeping up an old piece of furniture behind Kathleen.

Kathleen heard the sound, turning around just as the Clicker shot through the air and latched onto her. They watched in terror as the creature claimed the resistance leader’s life.

Joel hurried out of the house, running faster once he saw Y/n and Ellie. He stopped a second, watching as Kathleen lost everything she’d fought so hard for, but didn’t care so long as his people were safe.

“This way now,” Joel yelled, grabbing Y/n’s arm to urge her forward, “Move!”

The group took off, leaving those who had sought to kill them to their fates. Joel and Y/n ran together, keeping one hand on each other the whole time. Their grudge was suffocating, choking under the weight of their undeniable devotion to one another.

————————————

The motel the group landed was a haven to their weary eyes. They broke into one of the rooms and tried to get it through their heads that they were safe. Joel had made sure that no one followed them, they were miles away from any Infected. They could breathe.

Once Ellie and Sam had been squared away with food, they went into the bedroom and began reading Ellie’s collection of comic books. They were either bouncing back spectacularly fast or burying their fear.

Henry, Joel and Y/n sat out in the main room, trying to come down from what they’d just been through. Since fleeing the hellish nightmare, Joel and Y/n hadn’t left each other’s side. She hadn’t even bothered with putting space between them when she sunk down onto the floor. They were pressed against one another and neither of them minded.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asked, picking at a bit of his food and watching his brother from the next room.

Y/n’s eyes drifted to Ellie, she was growing more and more worried about the girl’s psyche. She’d seen so much in such a short span of time.

“Yeah, I think,” Joel answered, “It’s easier when you’re a kid, anyway,” he met Henry’s stare with intention, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

“Well,” Henry looked down at his food, “I guess we’re doin’ a good job then.”

Y/n and Joel both looked to the kids, Ellie was helping Sam to read one of the pages.

“What’s that comic book say?” Joel asked, “‘Endure and survive?’”

“Endure and survive,” Y/n repeated.

Henry chuckled, “That shit’s redundant.”

Joel shook his head, this was as close as he’d come to laughing with another person. “Yeah, it’s-it’s not great.”

Y/n gave a small smile, not quite to the point of being able to laugh about any part of the day.

Joel turned to look at her, drawing her gaze to him and focusing on the two quirked corners of her lips. It used to be his favorite game, making them rise until she’d complain her cheeks hurt. Tonight was the first night that he’d been able to make her smile again, and the little bit of his old self that was on life support took a breath.

Y/n let her eyes drift across Joel’s face, resting in the way he returned it. It was a dangerous fucking place to be, but after what they’d just gone through, she was too tired to fight her way out.

A loud laugh from Ellie snapped them out of whatever moment they were having.

“Look,” Joel turned to Henry, “I don’t know exactly how we’re gettin’ to Wyoming, we’re probably walkin’. But,” he stopped, still uncomfortable with the full spectrum of his emotions, “You know, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” Henry answered instantly, “Yeah. Um…yeah, I think it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend.”

“Oh, trust me,” Y/n smiled, looking on to Ellie, “You won’t find anyone friendlier than her,” she glanced at Joel, “Then again, we don’t set the bar very high, now do we?”

Henry laughed under his breath, even Joel couldn’t stop himself from smirking. “No, you don’t,” Henry replied, “I’ll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

“We’re not getting anywhere if we’re carrying them on our backs,” Y/n remarked, dusting the crumbs off her jeans and getting to her feet.

Henry got up with Y/n and heading into Sam and Ellie’s room. He knocked on the door and began to sign to Sam.

“Whatever he’s saying,” Y/n pointed to Ellie, “Same goes for you. Real adventure starts tomorrow.”

Ellie rolled her eyes lightly as Y/n approached, letting her take the comic out of her hand and place it on the nightstand. “Hey,” she said, “Is Joel’s brother like him? All grumpy and constipated?

“He is,” Y/n started, a flood of pleasant memories hitting her, “Way more fun. Not a stick to be found up his ass.”

Ellie snorted, Y/n knew she’d fall in love with Tommy in a minute. Everyone did.

Y/n ran a hand over Ellie’s head, they weren’t close enough for a hug but she wanted the girl to know that she had someone that cared about her. If Joel was her protecter, Y/n wanted to be her comfort. The oasis she could run to in the desert.

“Get some rest,” she ordered.

“Why?” Ellie cocked an eyebrow, “So you and Joel can have more time to cuddle?”

Y/n knew she’d be paying for her unconscious choices as long as Ellie was around to witness them. She lightly pushed her forehead, sending Ellie back on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“Will Livingston dies a slow and painful death if you ever bring that up again,” Y/n retorted, giving Ellie a pat on the leg after, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Ellie called in a teasing tone.

Y/n stopped by Sam’s bed, tapping his hip to get his attention. She signed ‘endure and survive’ back to him, Sam nodded with a smile.

“Practicing,” Y/n beamed, earning herself a thumbs up, “Goodnight.”

She left the room before Henry, Joel hadn’t moved from their spot against the radiator. The door had been open the whole time.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “‘Stick up my ass?’”

Y/n leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms, almost relaxed. “I said what I said,” she smirked, “She called you constipated.”

Joel shook his head at her, fond memories of her and Tommy ganging up on him filing his head.

He wouldn’t tell her that he’d heard the whole conversation.

Henry exited the room, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m exhausted,” he said, staking out the far right corner of the room for himself.

“Yeah,” Y/n sighed.

Joel rose up from the ground, already dreading trying to do another bed time shuffle with Y/n. He glanced over at her, first spotting the blood seeping through her bandages.

“Your hand,” he said, crossing the space between them.

“Huh?” Y/n furrowed her brows, holding it up to examine it, “Oh, shit. I didn’t even feel that.”

Joel was hesitant to grab it, but was itching to fix it up. “Adrenaline,” he settled for.

“So much for sleep,” Y/n grumbled, bending down and picking up her backpack.

Joel followed, setting the corner table back on its feet along with the two nearby chairs. Henry was already asleep in his corner. Joel sat down across from Y/n and watched as she pulled out the first aid kit. As she unpacked the supplies, his fingers began to twitch with nervous energy.

Y/n picked up on his fidgety state, stopping what she was doing to look at him. “Are you really that much of a control freak that you need to do this?”

Joel didn’t know what he was, just that he needed assurance that she was going to be alright. The only satisfactory way to do that was to do it himself.

“Fine,” Y/n scoffed, sliding the kit across the table to him, “Have at it.”

Joel unpacked the same supplies they’d used yesterday as Y/n unwrapped her hand. He was glad she’d taken extra gauze from his stash back in Massachusetts, they were running low.

“How long do you think it’ll take to get to Wyoming on foot?” Y/n asked as Joel grabbed an alcohol wipe. She’d already clotted, but the sites still needed to be cleaned.

He bristled, “A long fuckin’ while.”

“And are we measuring that in miles or kilometers?” Y/n asked, her tone deadpan.

Joel nearly smiled, gently rubbing the wipe over the bloody surface. Y/n hissed as it made contact with her skin, digging into her chair and drawing a deep breath after.

“Killed, like, four Clickers,” Joel decided to joke, never looking up from his ministrations, “Can’t handle a little wipe.”

“Says the man who can navigate his way across the country, but couldn’t explain a siphon to a fourteen year old,” Y/n remarked, matching his wit.

Joel peered up, a small smirk playing on his lips, mimicking the one on Y/n’s. This was the longest they’d gone without fighting during a conversation. One shift could turn the almost peaceful moment to a shipwreck.

“What happened out there tonight?” Joel asked, his mind still spinning from anxiety.

“Ran out of ammo,” Y/n answered, she know immediately what he was referring to, “Perfect timing, huh?”

Joel scoffed and ran a second alcohol wipe over her wounds. “Yeah,” he muttered, unsure of what else to say.

“But there was this weird guy hiding out in an abandoned house who took care of things,” Y/n remarked, her eyes traveling from her and Joel’s hands to his face.

Joel paused and met her stare, surprised that she was acknowledging his effort at all.

“Thank you,” Y/n continued.

Joel shook his head, returning to his work, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Would you rather me say ‘Fuck off, you dick. I can take care of myself?’”

“That would fall in line with what you usually have to say,” Joel replied, reaching for the gauze pads.

Y/n nodded in reply, a smile pulling at her cheeks. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, only that she was traumatized, tired, and in need of someone to talk to. If that someone came in the form of Joel, then so be it.

Joel tried to focus on Y/n’s wound, breaking it down into steps. Sterilize, gauze, wrap. He couldn’t get caught up on the fact that they were getting along. As benign as the it sounded, it was leaps and bounds ahead of where they’d come from.

Y/n, on the other hand, had nothing to do but sit and wait for him to be done. She watched how precisely he placed the gauze pads, as if one inch off their assigned spots would cost her her life. It reminded her of how precise he’d been with his lips, his hands. Every touch had carried purpose, the ultimate goal to make her know how much he loved her.

This touch, so warm and gentle, felt the same to Y/n.

Much like the day before, it took a lot of effort on Joel’s part not to get caught up in the feel of Y/n’s hand against his. He wrapped a fresh strip of bandage around it, weaving the roll between her thumb and under her palm. Back at the house, watching her narrowly avoid Infected had choked him. Every five seconds, she’d been brought to the edge of death, only for one of them to strike back at the very last moment. It had drained any and all energy left in Joel’s body, and had brought on a whole new set of questions.

If he were to lose her or Ellie at this point, what would it do to him?

He anchored the bandage down, sealing Y/n’s wound, and tried to escape the scenarios his mind was creating. They were alive, they were safe, and they would make it to Wyoming. If that was what he needed to keep repeating to himself the whole way west, he would.

“At the risk of inflating your ego,” Y/n examined his work, “Well done.”

Joel didn’t respond, he simply handed her the supplies to pack up. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, or rather, what he wanted and what he knew he couldn’t have.

Y/n threw the kit back in her backpack and came back to where they’d been. Joel was already kneeling down on the ground, removing and balling up his jacket. She didn’t want to land herself in another situation where cuddling up to Joel was a possibility, she also didn’t want to infringe on Henry’s personal space.

“You mind keepin’ an ear peeled?,” Joel asked, it was like he could read her mind, “In case I roll over on the wrong side again.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, coming to sit beside Joel with just enough space between them. Close enough to protect, far enough away for clear minds.

Joel stretched out one arm just above Y/n’s head. It wasn’t the closest they’d been in the past day, but it was certainly the most intimate. Y/n was facing him, the top of her hair nearly grazing his forearm. Every signal in his brain told him to roll over, put another wall between them, but there was a stronger thought that cancelled the noise.

He simply didn’t want to.

Y/n adjusted herself on her jacket and was left with nothing left to do but stare at Joel. The lines on his face were deeper, his features had grown sharper, yet somewhere underneath it all…she could still see the man she’d fallen in love with in the heat of an Austin summer. Perhaps that was what was playing with her mind the most; how she got glimpses of Joel as he was before morphing into the new version. She used to wonder what age would do to them and she knew that if Cordyceps had never mutated, Joel’s frown lines would be smiles lines. The skin underneath his eyes would wrinkle from deep laughter. And in the times where his brow would crease with concern, a single kiss from her would have relaxed the muscles.

It was enough to bring her to tears.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, his voice gruff but his words filled with concern.

It was all wrong. All of it. Everything that had happened to them. Everything the world had become. Risking their lives every day for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

It was all so horribly wrong.

“I’m just tired,” Y/n spoke past the lump in her throat, “Really fucking tired.”

Joel wanted to reach out, place a finger underneath her lashes to catch her tears before they fell. In another life, he’d have taken her in his arms and grazed his lips across her ear. He’d have called her Rosebud and told her to sleep, that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her.

But he’d lost the right to act on such feelings a lifetime ago.

“Get some sleep,” he replied, it was the only part of the urge he could listen to.

Y/n shook her head, smiling with sadness, “It’s not that kind of tired.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Joel understood those six words better than any other. His exhaustion went so far past his backaches or cracking knees. His soul was seeking rest that it would never find.

It wasn’t lost on either of them that it took nearly dying for them to start drifting back to one another. The hate faded into background noise, or ceased to exist at all. They picked up their anger when they were safe, because it took effort. It took effort to stay mad, a fire requiring constant attention. But protecting one another was natural. At the end of the day, all that had transpired between Joel and Y/n would never come in the way of saving one another. Hate was a choice, care was an instinct.

Joel’s soft gaze traveled across Y/n’s face. “Try,” he encouraged, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded, her eyes still resting on Joel. She knew if she stared at him a minute longer, she’d no longer be able to choose hate.

Though she’d never know it, Joel felt the exact same way. He was becoming weaker and weaker for her with each moment they spent together.

They didn’t bid each other goodnight, they didn’t even fall asleep at the same time, despite sharing the same exhaustion. Joel stayed awake a few extra minutes after Y/n drifted off. He watched her frown relax, her brows unclench and her chest rise and fall, keeping the same steady beat that used to lull him to sleep.

—————————

Y/n had scooted closer in her sleep, her and Joel’s bodies still not touching but their breaths mingling together.

Had they awoken with the sunlight peeking through the blinds, strips of the warm glow across their eyes, urging them awake, they wouldn’t have backed away. It would have been the first time in twenty years they’d have woken up to one another. They wouldn’t have been mad.

Instead, they startled awake to the sounds of screams.

Joel and Y/n sat up in time to see Ellie fall out of the door, a snarling Sam jumping on her and pinning her down. Henry woke not two seconds after them, barely able to register the sight.

Sam was infected.

Joel was the first to reach for his handgun, but Henry was quicker and yanked it away. He had it aimed at Y/n and Joel before they were even on their feet.

“Nope, nope, nope,” he warned.

“Joel!” Ellie’s heartbreaking scream filled the room, “Y/n!”

Joel and Y/n took one step in Ellie’s direction and Henry fired a shot at their feet. Joel shoved Y/n behind him, she clung to his arm.

“Joel!” Ellie shrieked again, begging for help from either adult, “Y/n!”

Before they could have a coherent thought, it was all over.

Henry turned his gun on Sam.

He fired a single bullet.

Sam collapsed to the floor.

Ellie sat up with tears in her eyes.

Joel lowered his hands, but Y/n still kept a firm grip on him.

“Ellie,” he breathed, his heart was racing, “Are you okay?”

The girl looked to her guardians, shocked and heartbroken.

They took a cautious step towards her, but Henry put a stop to it as he trained his pistol back on them. Joel threw his arm back out in front of Y/n, not knowing what the man might do.

Distraught seemed too small a word to describe the expression on Henry’s face. He was gutted.

Joel ensured Y/n was still fastened to him before he cautiously held out his hands to Henry, “Easy, easy, easy,” his voice was barely audible, “Henry, gimme the gun. Henry, gimme the gun.”

“What did I do?” Henry choked out.

Joel shushed him, as one would a wild animal on the verge of attacking.

“What did I do?” Henry asked again, “What-what-what did I do?”

“Henry,” Y/n nearly whimpered, her breath trembling as she did, “Henry, stop, please.”

Henry stared through his tears at his little brother’s body, blood spreading across the floor, “Sam?”

Joel urged with a new desperation as the realization deepened, “Henry, gimme the gun.”

“Henry, please,” Y/n let go of Joel, taking a calculated step forward, “I know. I know.”

“Gimme the gun, Henry,” Joel continued.

Henry’s eyes, still focused on his brother, glazed over as he raised the gun to his temple.

“HENRY, NO!” Joel cried out.

Y/n rushed past Joel, “HENRY, I KN-“

It was too late.

As it happened, Joel jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling her into him.

“No!” Y/n screamed, she lurched forward as if she could still save him.

Y/n’s eyes were flooded with tears, her sobs tearing her apart so hard that they came out silent. When the noise finally came, it was a guttural cry that might come from a wounded animal. Y/n’s knees gave out on her, Joel caught her and helped lower her to the ground. He kept his arms tight around her as she wailed.

When Y/n came to, and she realized Joel was holding her, the rage reignited. “Get off me,” she yelled, clawing her way out of his embrace.

Joel let her go, shrinking back slightly at the sudden reaction. Ellie watched, consumed by terror as her rock crumbled under the weight of the trauma.

Y/n crawled towards Henry, avoiding the blood, and clung to his shirt. She wept into his still warm body, wishing that he’d have let her finish her sentence. It could have changed everything.

The three of them sat there, waiting for their grief to come to a managable level.

“We gotta go,” Joel said eventually, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.

“We can’t leave them here,” Ellie muttered, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

Y/n was sitting beside Henry’s body by then, waiting for him to breathe air that would never reach his lungs.

“Gimme a minute,” Joel said, getting to his feet and moving mechanically out the motel room door.

Time moved slow and all at once to the three of them. Joel went into the maintenance closet and found two shovels, bringing them back to the room where nothing and no one had moved. Him and Y/n, trying to spare Ellie what little trauma they could, carried Sam and Henry’s bodies across the road and to a patch of grass. The two of them began to shovel shallow graves, burying their friends.

The job was nearly done, they were just patting the soil back down when Ellie returned. She’d retrieved the few posessions they still had, dropping Y/n and Joel’s coats and Y/n and Henry’s backpack at their feet. She came to kneel at Sam’s grave, taking it in before setting his magnetic pad atop the dirt.

Standing back up with a weight no child deserved to carry, she turned to Joel, “Which way’s west?”

Joel looked off to his left and nodded, Ellie set off in the direction.

Y/n could feel herself slipping into a heavy numbness, a grief filling her that few could understand. She felt like she had one nostril, barely taking in oxygen, above the waters that slammed into her. But as soon as she saw Ellie’s handwriting, the words ‘I’m sorry’ written across the magnetic pad, she lost the fight.

She understood Henry’s fight.

She understood his decision.

And she understood his guilt.

She dropped her shovel where it was, picked up her jacket and slung her backpack over her shoulder, following Ellie and leaving Joel by himself. He was the last person she could stand to look at right now.

Joel watched her leave, any softness that had existed between the two of them a few hours ago had disappeared.

He leaned against his shovel, staring down at the dirt and Ellie’s makeshift headstone. Having done what they’d just done, having known Henry and Sam, watching them interact….it gave Joel the answer to the question he’d pondered the night before.

If anything happened to Y/n or Ellie, he wouldn’t know how to carry on.

And that was the most terrifying feeling he could have had, because he’d had it before.

Ellie had snarked, sassed and snuck her way into his heart. Y/n had always been there, his affection never fading over time despite her perceived betrayal. But he’d buried her, another name in the long list of people he’d lost over twenty years. To have her come crashing back into his life had been unexpected and unwanted. He couldn’t stop himself from letting her consume his mind, just as she had the first time.

Now here he was, a child and the woman he’d loved relying on him, killing for him, and he wanted to run.

“Let’s go,” Ellie called out, she was even beginning to sound like him.

Joel startled, looking on to see Ellie and Y/n waiting for him. Y/n refused to look at him. They were right back to where they’d begun their journey. Perhaps even further, she’d met his gaze even after the ambush that had brought them back together. Something had shifted in her that Joel couldn’t figure out, nor did he think it was best to look too deep.

He put on Henry’s backpack, feeling the weight of it, and slipped his jacket through the strap. He gave a parting glance to the brother’s graves and headed off to join the women.

Despite their failure to keep their pasts hidden, the three of them had scars the others didn’t know about. Intricate pieces of them that had made them who they were in the Cordyceps dominated world. But past the secrets, there was a loyalty too real to deny. They were too deep in to quit on each other. Trudging westward, with grief still fresh and fragile in their palms, they were all each other had.

If one of them died, they all would.

———————

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us spoilers #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #twenty years later

[itstheghostofmypast]

Pollen Love (1/2)

Florist Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: The world had always been a bit too dull for the florist, a bit too rough for his petal like soft heart, stomping on it whenever anyone would deem fit - but was she any different? If so, why was she out of his reach, why did the world pluck away the flower that was supposed to put his bouquet back together?

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Warnings: heavy self-criticism, violence, language

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.3k

Est.Read Time: 25 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: A two part treat till I work on my main series.

"Woah there, what happened- did the boss come at ya, at like-" he turned to check the giant clock at the opposite end of the floor, "8 am- you want me to go knock some sense into him?" he asked, pulling out a dozen tissues from the 'free tissue box' and pressing them on her nose, signalling for her to blow, only for her to smack his hand, and point at something.

"What- oh" he stared at the bouqet of blue roses wrapped in a pastel yellow paper, all tied up with a with bow. "Wait- he made a move on you?"

Snatching the tissues she blew in an extremely ungraceful manner before throwing them away, "You idiot, they're your birthday gift, take them away before I die."

His fingers touched the soft petal of a rose, smiling at the sweet gesture before turning around to hug her only to be smacked across the face with a file. Letting out a mixture of a whimper and a growl he stared at her, hand on his now pink cheek, "So many mixed signals."

"I'll kill you, wash your hands! You know im deathly allergic to pollen!" protesting she sat down on her swivel chair, crossing her legs and glaring up at him. "And what mixed signals, you should be thankful I didn't shove them up your a** for not inviting me to your birthday party."

Letting out an exaggerated fake gasp he knelt down infront of her, placing a hand on his heart, "And for that I am truly sorry, my bestfriend since childhood, but please understand how the guys wanted me to go with them to a certain club where I couldn't possibly take you."

"You shouldn't be celebrating your birthday at a strip club anyway, it's extremely unhygienic," she mumbled, glancing at the flowers and then back at him on the floor on his knees, the usual Wooyoung theatrics.

"Yet, so entertaining -"

"You're disgusting."

"But a simple man."

"Get out of my cubicle".

That was three days ago, today was a Thursday, a regular, boring Thursday so did Wooyount expect to find another bouqte in his cubicle, no. Did he find one, yes, this had been going on since Monday and at this point Yunho and a few on the others floor had begun to assume there was something going on between the two. So, like any best friend,  he decided to confront her during break.

Turning off the faucet she shook her wet hands over the sink, looking in the mirror to check up on her makeup, her ears picking up the sound of the door opening, "There you are!"

Turning to look at the all too-familiar voice before letting out a shriek and throwing the bar of soap at him, as he ducked skillfully,  being all too aware of her habit of throwing things at him.

"THIS IS THE LADIES RESTROOM."

"Well I'm having lady issues," he said before aiming the bouquet of sunflowers at her, only for her to take a step back gasping, "My lady, mind you a horrifying one, has been leaving me these bouquets when I clearly know she doen't love me enough to face death each day." as soon as he was done they heard someone flush and the last stall open, his eyes widening in fear, about to make a run for it but she grabbed his hand, "Oh no, now you face the consequences."

"So, who are you in love with?"

"For f***'s sake." hissing she face palmed, Wooyoung's boistorous laugh echoing across the tiled walls. Before them, Yunho stood infront of the sink, rolling up his sleeves as he begun to wash his hands, turning his head to meet her questionng glare to which he shrugged, "Ladies washrooms are cleaner, men use toilets like pigs and..." moving closer to reach beside her, he pulling out a few tissues, "Ya'll have tissues."

Rolling her eyes at this  statement she turned to Wooyoung, motioning for him to move, only for him to move the bouqet closer to her face, watching her nose scruntch as she covered her mouth. Muffling out a whine, "Wooyoung, come on, its nothing, just let it go, I let go the fact that you went to strip club to your birthday and didnt celebrate with me-"

"THAT'S WHAT YOU TOLD HER ?"Yunho, who was now leaning against the counter hollered. That's when she noticed it, the silence, the way Wooyoung was shaking, in...fear. No...this mf wouldn't have...could he?

"Yunho" he hissed, slowly moving back as she stepped closer to him, "You a**hole." is all that escaped him before he made a beeline for the elevator, "I SWEAR I WANTED TO TAKE YOU BUT YOU HAD YOUR PROJECT THE NEXT DAY" he yelled running into the eventor, pressing on the close button before she could jump in. Unfortunately for him, she was able to stick her hand in before the doors closed, automatically opening again.

He backed into the opposite wall, "I c-can explain." holding the bouqet to cover his face until she snatched it and started beating him with it, "YOU PROMISED TO GO WITH ME- f*** I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU WENT TO THE IMAGINE DRAGONS CONCERT WITHOUT ME!"

"IM- ow- SORRy-STOP"

The elevator stopped at a random floor and dinged, not that the two even pressed a button in this first place, they only stopped when someone cleared their throat. Pausing midscene the two- Wooyoung who was covered in petals and Y/N who was holding the dead beat bouquet,  the wrapping paper crumbled to shreds- looked the people standng at the entrance.

"Umm..."

"Everyone, but these two, are normal." Jongho explained and entered the lift, someone next to him nodding and entering. That's when Wooyoung noticed, buff dudes hang out with buff dudes, that and how his bestfriend was twitching, slowly moving behind him, trying to hide, like she was...shy? He hadn't seen her ever flinch around any other man, let alone shy away from one. It was at this point when is gaze moved from her, trailing to catch the face of the man standing next to Jongho, who was offering her a shy smile in return. He was an eight...or at max a nine...or 9.98- point is he wasn't extraordinary, in fact, when did he start working here? Wooyoung always knew everyone, and this strange, tall mountain of a man was not part of the everyone, nonetheless, the creep was disturbing his dear darling demon, which is why he chose to speak up.

"Haven't seen you before?" his words calm but with an edge to them causing Jongho to let out an exagerted sigh and the man to nod at him, an introvert huh, still had the guts to hit on her? Creep and a weirdo.

"He doesn't, I just wanted to show him the gym here." Jongho turned to face the two idiots, the lady who sends him her work in late almost every week and her scoundrel of a friend who makes sure to finish all the morning free muffins before the poor bear can reach the break room.

"I almost couldn't recognise you without the mask?" the stranger spoke in a hushed tone, causing her to dip her head even more, mumbling a, "I didn't think you would."

"You know this creep?" Wooyoung turned to her, before biting his lip when he felt her heel dig into his toe. Pretending she wasnt doing that she bowed in apology, only for him to smile at her, "It's alright, so, this is who you buy flowers for each day?" his voice as soft as the clouds, as smooth as velvet, though unknown to her, those words, the sight of her standing so close to the rude guy, watching them physically engage before the two had entered the lift had set something burning in him, anger? Jealousy?

F*** no, they were not for this moron, but would she tell him the real reason? Of course not, shaking her head, she was about to speak when Jongho cleared his throat, "Anyway, San, let's go ....and you two...stay out of trouble." with that he walked out, her frantic gaze meeting San's calm eyes, with one last dimpled smile he walked out with a "Hope to see you around Miss."

With the doors closing she bit her lip, this is not how she wanted to him to see her, this is not what she wanted him to think- wait, was he going to stop being nice to her? Or would he just treat her like any other customer? Or-

"So, that's him, huh?" his words broke her train of thought, slinging an arm over her shoulders, "That's the guy, you face death for each morning, the guy you are willing to buy for, because he got your itty bitty heart in his palm and he has -until today- not seen you without a mask, not because you're hygienic,  no, because you'd literally get an allergic attack and die?"

Sighing in defeat she rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm pathetic, aren't I?" as she let him lead them out to their floor, as fun as this was, they still had half of the day left and he had some investigating to do.

"Nah, not pathetic,  just desperate and stupid."

"Thanks, Woo."

"Anytime."

.

"You gonna do something or just stare at the weights?" Jongho asked as he got off the treadmill, noticing how his friend had been distracted ever since they got off the elevator. To be honest Jongho had brought him here because this was closer to work and San's shop, and since he'd get off work late it was easier for them to continue with their routine at this office gym, rather than the one near their apartment complex.

"Oh- no, sorry." San mumbled, sitting back on the bench, reaching to pick up a dumble, only to freeze at the next choice of words his friend spoke so casually, "Can't believe thats your masked lover."

"She isn't my lover." he hissed cranning his neck around to glare at the man who was now sitting on the bench next to him, chuckling before chugging down a whole bottle of water.

"No" sighing, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "She's got you whipped, but you didn't know she was in a relationship- you're such a romantic Sannie."

"I'll throw this at you. I swear." placing the dumble back down, grumbling he got up, no longer interested in working out anymore, choosing to stretch out the tension in his muscles instead.

"And I'm surprised you never bothered asking for her name."

"Drop it." with that he grabbed his duffle bag , "I'm going to hit the shower."

"Mhmmm...so what was more distracting? Her skirt or the fact that you saw her face for the first time-" Jongho's sentence was cut halfway when a towel was smacked on his face, San's attempt to shut him up before disappearing around the corner to the washrooms.

.

Today was not a good day. Well, yesterday wasnt one either, well it was till he found out that the lady he had been saving his extra silky ribbons and prettier flowers for was in fact in a relationship, or at least what looked like one. Today, he had gotten up earlier than expected, a minute before his alarm rang, which only added to his anger. Then the water ran out while showering, so he had to stumble out of the tub, eyes closed, trying to keep his eyes safe from the suds of his shampoo, almost tripping off what may have been his own pants. After that fiasco, he had missed the bus, which meant he was late, which meant he wasn't opening his flower shop, his pride and hardwork on time. But was he upset about that or the fact that since he was late, he wouldn't be able to see her today- wait why is he even thinking of her?

In midst of his crisis he missed someone standing in front of him and bumped into them, thanking God for his cat like reflexes as he balanced himself quickly, hands instinctively reaching to grab the hand of the falling individual, pulling them up into his chest.

Her forehead bumped against his chest, his arms secure around her waist, her own palms pressed against his warm chest, the sweater warm and fuzzy under her finger tips.

"S-sorry." peaking up through her lashes, her face flushed at the sight of his curious gaze. "It's alright" smiling down at her, suddenly his day turning a bit brighter, "No mask today ?"

"W-what? Oh, " her fingers instintively reaching to touch her lips, before nodding, "Yeah, I forgot...you're late today."  eyes meeting his once more, as he gave her an apologetic smile and nodded. Never had she been able to look at him up close, sure she had seen him work before, thats how she started to develope these feelings. The way he'd be so focused, his sharp gaze to the way the tip of his tongue would peak past his pouty lips, the way his hair would fall over his forehead, caressing his eyebrows-

"I leave for three minutes."

"Oh-"

In an instant the warmth around her was gone, much to her displeasure, he had moved back, hands at his sides, no longer holding her close, much to his own displeasure.

"Morning" Wooyoung cleared his throat, before taking a sip of his coffee, eyes on the man who was staring back at him. To her, it looked like a gentle stare, but Wooyoung could see the swirling emotions behind his dark orbs, the anger, the jealousy- oh he was going to have so much fun with this.

Clearing her throat, she turned to Wooyoung, "What are you doing here?" who smiled at her, one that anyone who didn't know him would feel was the most honest smile one could see, but she knew better. He was up to no good, as he walked up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling hercloser, "Didn't we see you yesterday?"

San's eyes caught th visible the dicomfort that she displayed for a second, certain gears in his head working quick, fists clenching at his sides- this wasn't his matter, and Jongho had told him to stay away from this stuff or he would kick him out, this was a new start, and he wasn't going to ruin it.

"You did," averting his eyes from her face he eyed Wooyoung, scanning him, he was smaller than him, in stature and build, bet he was quicker than him though- no, he wasn't supposed to be thinking like this anymore.

"San...right?" her words catching him off guard, inhaling sharply he turned back to her with a smile, "Nodding, yes, San, Choi San." Noting how her she was mimicking a smile of her own, eyes swirling with untold stories, ones he'd love to hear, all the time.

"Wooyoung" he brought his hand forward, somewhat coming infront of her, much to San's displeasure, but he shook his hand nontheless, with a fake smile, before catching her eyes again, his fake smiling morphing into his dimpled one.

"Will you be coming in today?" he asked them, "Give me a minute I just have to open up-"

"N-no its okay, we were just passing by!" she cut him off, before looking at how the two idiots were still gripping onto each other's hands. Wooyoung was going to be the death of her.

Turning his head to look at her he nodded in understanding before he felt the idiot squeeze his hand,  only sparing  him a glance then looking at their clasped hands, an awkward silence settling between the three.

"Umm..."

"Wooyoung."

With a firm nod he let go, smirking at the way the bigger male wiped his palm with his pants, trying to be oh so discreet about it.

"Good grip" was all he said before moving to Y/N, "Let's go, love." walking ahead as she sighed, wanting to smack him so hard right now. Turning to San she bowed politely, "I apologise, he can be a handful sometimes, it was nice seeing you."

She was almost a good foot away before he called out, "WAIT!" causing her to freeze in spot, whipping her head around to stare at him all doe-eyed, his heart hammering against his ribcage, demanding to leave with her, "I didn't catch your name..."

"That's because you never asked me, silly." chuckling at his curiosity veiled with his shy demeanour, "It's Y/N."

With that she was gone, running after the a**hole, according to San, who had noticed how he was making her uncomfortable by the passing minute. A part of him wanted to go and give him a good piece of his mind, but he knew not to, he had promised Jongho he wouldn't get into fights anymore, he wouldn't let the world write his story for him.

.

"Having fun?" she hissed, entering his cubicle, noting how  she was ignored. Her source of anger was glued to his desktop, glasses at the tip of his nose, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. Eyes skimming each word before him.

"Wooyoung I-"

Words pausing at the rude gesture, a finger pointed in the air as if asking her to shut up for a moment. Huffing, she stood there, leaning against the entrance of his cubicle, arms crossed as she looked around waiting for him to finish with his dramatics for a good twenty minutes.

"Aaaand done." twirling around in his swivel chair he stared at her, manspreading, "Yes, child."

"SIT PROPERLY!"

"YES MA'AM." fixing his posture in an instance he cleared his throat, sitting cross-legged watching her lean against his desk, eyes frantically darting from her face to the screen.

"Let's go, Love?" quirking a brow she asked, "Are you trying to ensure I have no shot with him?"

"Quite the opposite, stupid one, I'm trying to ensure you do."

"You got a shitty way of showing it."

Clicking his tongue he rolled his chair closer to his desk, smacking her knee, then pointing at th screen, "Look."

Rubbing her knee she stood up, turning to look at the screen, "What- oh my god, you're stalking him- Oh he looks cute her" her words rushing out before she could bite her tongue, earning a high pitched laugh from her friend.

"Stop" whining and covering her face with her hands she peeked through her fingers, watching him scroll through the florist's shop's social media account.

This was the most fun Wooyoung had had since highschool, it had been so long since he'd seen his oh so perfect friend a mess, sputtering nonsense. "My point is, he has no personal account, and this one is recent too, its only for the shop and considering he only has male staff- this other dude - man do all buff people have like this secret club-"

"Your point?"

"Yeah sorry, my point is that he has no lady in his life, so you've got a shot."

"And pretending that we are in a relationship is going to work how?"

"He's shy and you're hopeless at this, someone has to tip the scales and be pushed to make the first move- and we all know how your first moves involve stupidity."

"I regret knowing you for so long."

"Ooooh what are we discussing here?"

The two froze at the third, new voice entering the scene, "But, I feel like people who come in late should be more concered about their work, not Sannie's love life."

"Sannie?" the two squeaked but with different tones, with different intentions.

"Yes, Sannie, San, Choi San, man who is not part of your assignments for the week. Neither of yours." he stated as a matter of fact, slowly nudging Wooyoung's chair out of the way as he moved closer to the screen, "New account, huh..." scrolling down at an inhumane speed he hummed, "So, how's his shop?"

"Nice."

"Average."

"Wooyoung, you've never been there." She sighed at his comment, "It's not average, its very nice, its pretty and colourful."

"Wow, bet saying that would get you in his pants, huh?" Wooyoung mocked, rotating in his swivel chair, smirking at the sight of her tainted cheeks- perhaps he did want to show their boss, that he deserved the raise rather than her, or maybe just embarass her because it was fun, or just both.

Luckily for her Yunho had completely ignored that  statement, instead  turned around to her, "So, you're allergic to pollen and you still go to the shop?"

As embarrassing as it was, it was true, "Yes." mumbling she stared at her shoes, instantly glaring at Wooyoung who had whispered, "Simp".

"Does...he know?" Their boss inquired, before closing the tab and turned to face them completely.

"No! God no, he'd never let me in the shop if he did, I mean he seems like the caring type and-" her words came to a fault at the sight of the two men smirking at each other, cause her to whine and slap Wooyoung's shoulder.

"WHY ME?? HIT HIM TOO!"

"He's our boss."

Huffing she turned to look at Yunho who gave her a gentle smile, "You're  right, he is the caring type, but" his lips quirked downwards, something she noticed instantly,  "He's not s pet project, so is this a little crush or do you actually like him, which brings me to my next question, how could you like someone without even knowing their name?"

"I..."her words hugged the silence that came after, staring at her shoes then at Wooyoung for some help, but he looked at her with the same look her boss was giving her, she did like him, but she didn't know a lot about him either- well technically a while ago she didn't even know his name.  What if this was a meaningless crush? There was no guarantee that he felt the same way either, what if he thought she was some annoying, clingy customer that-

A gentle squeeze of her hand had her look up from the all too interesting floor, only to find Wooyoung standing right before her, giving her a small smile. He raised his hand, watching her flinch but he chuckled, "You're crying silly..." he whispered, the thumb of his free hand stroking her tear stained cheek, watching her let out a shaky sigh.

"I- I wont- I mean I-"

"He didn't mean it like that...he just wants you to be sure of your feelings...I think they were close friends." Smiling at her he made her sit down on his chair, "Don't worry, I get it, I've never seen my demon sent to me straight from hell cry for a guy, so you must really like him, we just gotta figure out a way for you to get to talk to each other without chickening out, yeah?"

She nodded only to look at the person who cleared their throat, Yunho, standing there awkwardly, "I uh...I was only kidding, I didn't doubt your intentions....but damn...who knew I'd see the employee of the month, the holder of Woo's reigns, end up crying all because of Sannie-"

"I hate you." She hissed, grabbing a tissue box and flinging it at him, only for Wooyoung to catch it mid air, "Holder of my reigns?" He turned to Yunho who shrugged, "It's a name that stuck, most of us did think you two were an item" the taller man shrugged before looking at her sitting there in self-doubt, making him feel worse, "I, I think Wooyoung should go on with his jealousy plan, if Sannie didn't have the slightest crush on you, he wouldn't have smiled at you like how Jongho told me he did."

"You spoke to Jongho about this?"

"Yeah, well he did talk about the way San was distracted at the gym thanks to your skirt-"

"Jongho also said get back to work and not waste the first half of the day playing matchmaker."

The three froze at the new tone, slowly turning to find the bear like man standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head, "I'll count till ten"

"Oh I'll win because I'm already at my desk." Wooyoung smirked earning an eyeroll from Yunho and scoff from her, watching the two walk out as he stared at Jongho who was glaring back at him, "Is she serious about him? He's been through enough as it is, it took us some time to bring him back on track."

"She is. I- its actually the first time I've seen her act this way, the real question is, is your boy fixed enough to treat her right?"

"Guess that's something you'll have to check for yourself....you are her...boyfriend after all, even if a fake one." With that Jongho left the cubicle, leaving Wooyoung alone with his thoughts, on one hand he was debating whether this interference was worth their time, but then again, he was right, he'd never seen her like this, not when he had confessed to her back in highschool and she had politely declined his offer, or when that guy in college asked her put publically- well, technically she had put him back in his place there and then and Wooyoung thanked God that he had the bestfriend privilege back in highschool too because if this is what she'd do to someone who tried to pressurise her due to the public presence even if she did once say this guy was cute- he'd hate to see how she'd deal with someone she disliked.

So, there were two questions that bothered him, was the flowerboy fixed enough to handle her? And did she now possesses the gentleness to handle delicate flowers?

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt

#cromernet #k labels #san network #choi san x reader #choi san angst #choi san fluff #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung #choi san #san x reader #san fanfic #yunho #jongho #yeosang #hongjoong #seonghwa #mingi #fluff #ateez #ateez x you #ateez scenarios #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #san x you #atz scenarios #atz imagines #atz x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #atz fanfic

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

“Love is a rebellious bird that none can tame”

After everything she’s been through, falling in love was the last thing she thought she’d ever achieve. And yet, even though she thought herself completely undeserving of anyone’s feelings, she still yearned for it… Maybe you’ll be the one to grant her wish.

characters: Furina x gn!reader

words: ~6360

warnings: spoilers for the 4.2 Archon Quest and Furina’s Story Quest

a/n: So I thought “let’s write something short for Furina, probably won't take too long”, and here I am now, writing this since thursday and with a total of 12 or so pages...

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

There were many things that had changed in the life of the human once known as Fontaine’s beloved archon after the waters swept through Fontaine, engulfing the entire nation as prophesied and leaving her crying on the same chair she had sat down almost an hour before, still devastated from everything that had happened, only for the water to recede once more, leaving the city destroyed but its residents unharmed…

In those moments, Furina couldn’t imagine any of her past subjects being willing to ever look her in the eyes with anything but scorn again, considering how she had lied to them all for hundreds of years, pretending to be their Archon when she was nothing more than a normal human girl drawing nearer and nearer to unavoidable doom… She couldn’t imagine things to turn better in her personal life at all either, having been sentenced to death in front of everyone not too long ago… and yet here she was, reading through the script passed to her by the director, being asked for her opinion and recommendations the same way as when she was still putting on that horrible masquerade.

“My eyes can’t spot any glaring sins in writing in this dialogue… in other words, it’s good, as expected from someone as talented as you, director”, Furina responded once her eyes finally separated from the sheets of paper, catching herself falling back into those theatrical speech patterns she had grown so accustomed to, her lips curling into a polite smile as the director thanked her before quickly moving on to talk to another person.

It had taken Furina quite some time to return to the world of acting, and even after her appearance in the little Oceanid she tried restraining herself from diving head-first into the show-biz again and while there was barely a week she didn’t receive an invitation for a role for the next up-and-coming show, not even being asked for an interview first, acting played the second fiddle when compared to trying to get some time for herself. For centuries her every move was intensely watched, with the only hours she was truly alone being when she was asleep, so getting some time where she was free to try her hands at things in the comfort of her new home was a nice change of pace… especially since her cooking might have required some more refining.

But while Furina was finally free to live the life she always wanted… there still weren’t that many people she could call her friends. The traveler and their companion always on all sorts of adventures, while she still hesitated to reach out to her past colleagues, doubting if they even still wanted her around in the first place.

“Mhm, how could I forget I was dealing with the greatest of actors in all of Teyvat, just remember to look at the stairs the next time we’re on stage, we don’t want a repeat of last time, don’t we?”, the voice of one of her fellow actors rang out, causing Furina to look at the source of the sound, only to see a small group of her coworkers huddled around each other, joking and teasing around while rehearsing their lines and laughing at all kinds of stories of their past and inside jokes… both things still seemingly far out of reach for herself, at least for now. She didn’t like to admit it, but she felt a bit jealous.

Suddenly feeling out of place, Furina forced her eyes back onto the papers in her head, trying to read through her scenes once again, only to find her mind filled with all kinds of different thoughts.

Which sauce should I be trying today? Bolognese? Alfredo? Something new might be nice… but do I really feel like experimenting today? Maybe I should just go out to eat once in a while. It felt like a lifetime since I last visited that bakery near the city center… oh yeah, they shut down a generation ago.

Before she knew it, she sunk further and further into her thoughts, only to suddenly be startled when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, causing the culprit to follow suit.

“Oh, sorry! I was just trying to tell you that today’s rehearsal was over, but you seemed spaced out, so I thought…”, you apologized after quickly pulling your hand away, a look of slight embarrassment on your face before it quickly disappeared again, replaced by a smile that made her heart stop. For a split-second, Furina was about to refute your claim of her spacing out in public, her mouth still working on her centuries old autopilot, only for her to stop herself before a tone could come out, giving you a silent nod of her head.

But while this had ought to be it with your conversation for the day, Furina’s mouth refused to close, the realization that if she didn’t do anything about it, she was just going to go home, do the same thing she always did, eat the same meal she had… admittedly grown a bit sick off, even though she’d rather walk through hell and back before admitting to that flying companion of the traveler that they may have been somewhat right to judge her cooking skills, and get not a single step closer to finally using the chance at living the human life she had always wanted, instead just wasting her days with no meaningful connections until her time would run out quickly dawning on her. 

And so, before any of her anxieties could stop her words were pouring out of her mouth once again. 

“Do you have some spare time to rehearse our dialogues? I didn’t have the chance to see you in action yet, and I’d like to see if you’re worthy of acting alongside me.”

If it wasn’t for her self-control returning to her body at that exact moment, she would have facepalmed herself with enough force to leave an imprint, the cocky remark at the end a textbook example of the bad habits she still struggled getting rid off.

Surprisingly enough however, you didn’t seem insulted, nor disgusted by someone like her, who could not even do anything but watch in her nation's biggest crises, having the galls to look down on someone else. A grin that stretched from ear to ear finding itself on your face instead, your hand reaching out almost instantly as you offered her a handshake. 

“Sure, Miss Furina, let me show you what I’m made of.”

Before she could think things over however, her hand had already grown a mind of its own, shaking yours as she spouted out another confident boast.

“Are you out of your mind?! What good does it do to anyone if you go and throw your life away in a pointless duel? You could have at least asked me for my opinion before challenging him out of nowhere!”, you snapped, a mixture of anger and desperation seeping through your voice as you took a step towards Furina, leaning slightly forward, only to jerk back when she did the same, almost making your foreheads collide.

“I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission for anything. Challenging him might not have been the right course of action, I admit that, but at least it is an action. You hear the townsfolk weep whenever he and his band of mercenaries march into the townsquare and extort them for all their worth. So I’m not going to apologize for trying to help instead of just watching from the sidelines as you love to do”, before you could manage to say another word, Furina had turned around and stamped away, completely ignoring you calling out her name before you were all one… once again.

“Well, you are quite talented, I have to admit. I can see why you were hired to play alongside me. Although you still have a long way ahead of you if you wish to get as good as me”, Furina spoke half-jokingly, she never doubted your acting skills in the first place, she had heard of how talented you were after all, but given her excuse earlier, that wasn’t exactly something she could admit.

“Thanks Miss Furina, it’s an honor to hear someone like you say that. I hope I’ll be able to improve my acting while working alongside you”, you were quick to respond, putting your hand on your chest before giving her a small bow, leaving the actress stumped by your sudden modesty.

What’s this? Where are the competitive remarks you had been spewing out during the entirety of your private rehearsal? Why are you so… modest now?

Furina’s expression must have done a great job at revealing her inner monologue as you were quick to respond.

“Is something the matter, Miss Furina?”, you asked in the same calm tone, only for her to quickly turn her head away, as she realized she had been staring.

“N-nothing”, Furina responded in a subdued manner, looking out of the window and watching the streets grow less and less populated as the sun started to set, painting the skies in colors that made her want to whip out her camera and snap a picture or two.

As the silence stretched longer however, and the colors faded from the skies, Furina was teleported back into reality when your footsteps echoed through the room, approaching the front door one step at a time, causing her to turn around to face you once again.

“Thanks a lot, Miss Furina. I’ve learned a lot today”, you stated with a small smile, your hand already touching the doorknob when Furina interrupted your exit.

“Let’s go home together, I’m not too fond of the city's alleyways once they get covered in darkness”, she suggested. The phrase “not too fond” being a bit of an understatement considering her run-in with near death all those moons ago. And yet, Furina couldn’t help but feel a bit silly for asking you to accompany her, she was an adult after all, one that didn’t have that much of a chance to live life yet, but one nonetheless. But before she had the chance to open her mouth and spout an excuse you were already holding the door open for her, gesturing her to step out first.

“And we’ve arrived”, Furina announced, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that it took you a few steps to realize she was no longer by your side, quickly turning around and seeing her proudly point at the building in front of you. It was a lot smaller than you expected, considering she was the previous Archon and still widely appreciated as an actor. The burning lights in one of its windows made it pretty clear that her apartment wasn’t the only one in the building. But it was far from shabby. It had a nice exterior, was located near the city center and only a few steps away from some major shops, a nice house all in all.

“What? Left speechless by my abode? You flatter me”, she asked theatrically once the silence grew a bit too long to be considered anything but awkward, her voice hiding the faintest hint of nervousness.

“It’s pretty, I wish I’d have a place from which everything was as quickly reachable as from here”, you responded, a polite smile making its way onto your face as Furina’s head tilted by a bit. 

“Don’t you live somewhere near here?”

A shake of your head was enough to make her eyes widen, but once your response left your mouth, you saw her jaw hit the ground. “I live on the other side of the city, so it’s always a bit of a footmarch to get here.”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to accompany me if I knew you’d have to march all across the city to get home afterwards”, apologies quickly started flooding out of her mouth, obviously feeling bad about her previous request, but when you simply waved her worries off, she grew silent once again.

“It’s no problem. I look forward to our next rehearsal”, you said your goodbyes, only for Furina’s voice to once again stop you in your tracks. 

“Next rehearsal?”

At that exact moment, something in your brain clicked. Today was a one off thing, you had proven your worth as an acting colleague after all, so there was no reason for this to continue. The realization hit like a rock, you had enjoyed it after all, even if you had once again fallen into your old habits of becoming too boastful and competitive once your rehearsal’s started to get into motion.

“Sure, see you tomorrow!”, just as you were starting to think about breaking the silence by apologizing, her voice rang out to snap you out of it, a small smile on her face once you dared to look back up at her.

“Good work as always, Miss Furina. It really felt like I was talking to another person just now”, words of praise left your mouth in place of the line you were actually supposed to say, catching her completely off guard to the point her cheeks started to blush a bit. 

"T-Thanks? Did you forget your line all of a sudden or did the script change?”, she shot back with a tease, hoping it would be enough to serve as a distraction from her face. Instead of making your eyes look away however, your stare grew more intense, to the point she was fearing she might have said something very insensitive.

“I don’t forget my lines, Miss Furina, that’s not something that happens. Scratch that, I don’t forget lines at all, I’m pretty sure I could recite your part from memory at this point”, you shot back with a big grin on your face, your competitive spirit seemingly having been reawakened.

While Furina herself liked to indulge herself in boasting about her skills from time to time, she learned that there came a time when words alone were no longer satisfactory and had to be backed up by actions, so when she heard your remark she didn’t hesitate for even a second to take you up on it, laughter escaping her mouth as she struck a confident pose.

“Heh, well then, bless me with your performance, oh great and mighty one.”

What followed was silence, as you seemed to get lost in thought, your ear-to-ear grin slowly vanishing as your face returned to normal, but once the actress was finally about to offer you a chance out, you started your monologue. One, which while only seeming slightly familiar to her at first, quickly crystallized itself as none other than her character’s from the little oceanid. And while Furina had to admit to herself that you did a pretty good job remembering it, not only knowing what to say, but also when to pause, making it appear as easy as reading it from a script, the way you tried to imitate her voice even if yours was so different from hers made the corners of her lips curl into a smile. Whether it was out of admiration or meant as a parody of her she didn’t know, what she did know however, was that she couldn’t be angry at you even if you were trying to make fun of her, simply finding herself smiling at the thought.

“So you’re either so obsessed with the idea of impressing me that you learned every single one of my lines from heart, or you’re secretly my biggest fan”, Furina joked, only to find you shooting her a smile.

“I couldn’t help it, the little oceanid was just too good for me not to watch it more than once”, you refuted her accusation, finishing the graceful bow you had tried performing before being interrupted by the person in front of you.

“Well, Miss Furina. You’ve heard my rendition of your lines, so make sure to do your homework and read some of mine. Or are you scared you wouldn’t manage it as stunningly as me”, you challenged her before quickly putting on your jacket, opening the door and holding it open until the two of you had stepped outside.

There was no rational reason for her to accept. Taking on extra work when she already had to study enough lines for the play for no other reason than to fuel your urge for competition? That sounded a bit too absurd, even for her. Especially for her.

“Well, let yourself be amazed. Just don’t come crawling to me afterwards begging me to stop humiliating you so thoroughly.”

As Furina silently watched you chop together whatever ingredients she found at home from the dinner table, she couldn’t help but think about how wrong what was supposed to be nothing but another one of your private rehearsals had turned out…

“Bravo! It almost felt like looking into a mirror”, you exclaimed while clapping once Furina had finished reciting your lines perfectly, striking a pose that practically screamed at you to praise her more, a request you were all too willing to indulge her in.

“I’m starting to worry for every actor’s career, considering how you seem to be able to play every role you can get your hands on, Miss Furina”, you continued, only for her face to get happier with each passing word, before eventually raising her hand.

“This should suffice. Do not fret for your career, I’ll make sure to secure you a role alongside me if you ever find your pool of possibilities to suffer from a drought.”

You had a fully prepared response ready, but when you noticed the dark clouds covering the usually colorful sky, you quickly sidelined your current thoughts, choosing to focus on what seemed important.

“It might not be a bad idea to finish for today. It seems like it’s going to rain… and quite a lot at that”, you stated before pointing out of the window, causing Furina’s eyes to wander to where you’d been pointing, only for her to let out a deep groan.

“Rain? Why now? Couldn’t it have rained at night?” She complained to no one in particular, turning around and grabbing her jacket, giving you a small smile as you held the door open once again before speaking up.

“You should head straight home, or else you might not make it before the rain starts.”

“Heh, I’m not made out of sugar. I’ll be fine”, you joked in a confident tone, almost as if challenging the sky to try and wash you away with a flood, ignoring her attempts at playing the voice of reason…

“How’s the rain?”, you asked from the other room, trying your hardest to multitask everything from holding a conversation, walking around the kitchen, peeling some potatoes, cutting a carrot or two and not starting a house fire by accidentally leaving the stove on for a little too long.

“Not great, it seems to have gotten worse”, Furina responded in a meek voice, continuing to stare out of the window, refusing to look in your general direction, too scared of what sort of look she might find on your face.

“Something wrong? You’re unusually quiet”, you asked, only to get a semi-attentive hum as a response. 

If only you had agreed to go home on your own instead of accompanying her, maybe then you wouldn’t have to see the inside of her apartment. Sure, she wasn’t as depressed as she was before rekindling her passion for acting, leaving her home far more often and for different reasons than just to buy macaroni, but that still didn’t mean her home looked too much different from back then. 

With how little time she spent in it during the day, going to your private rehearsing sessions whenever she found the time… which she admittedly did have a lot of, and how tired she was when returning home, only wishing to grab a bowl of pasta and sauce before falling asleep almost instantly, there wasn’t exactly that much time she had for cleaning. But it was fine, she was eventually going to get around to do it, tomorrow maybe, she was tired already after all. Unfortunately for her however, the rain came before “tomorrow” could finally make its appearance. Now forced with the choice of either letting you see this rather pathetic side of her or forcing you to go home in this horrible storm, Furina couldn’t stomach the thought of shutting her door in front of you, and so… this happened.

“Here, it’s a recipe my father always used to make whenever there wasn’t much around. It requires little ingredients and tastes pretty good for how little time it takes”, you stated before setting down a plate in front of her, meeting her glance upwards with a smile you hoped would cheer her up somehow.

“Now that I think about it, you would have loved that old man. He had a lot of stories to tell, enough for him to write a small book about them. Apparently they found some popularity abroad for a few years, it would surprise you how much it netted him. Enough to take us on a small holiday abroad”, you talked to fill the silence, sitting down on the opposite chair from her, digging into your meal almost instantly.

“Was your father an adventurer?”, Furina eventually asked, catching you by surprise as you struggled to gulp down the last bite as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave her waiting for a response. 

“No, a clerk. Quite a boring job, but what his life missed in adventures, his imagination made up for”, you responded before just as quickly continuing, “My mother however was one, quite a passionate one at that. We couldn’t exactly see her too often because of that, but whenever we did, she returned with all kinds of treasures.”

“I’m sorry”, came the words from Furina’s mouth, almost silent enough for you to miss them, confusing you for a split second, but just as you were about to reassure her that it was fine and she had no need to feel bad for asking about your parents, her voice rang through the room once again. “I should have cleaned up, it’s just that I didn’t know you were going to come over today and… things have been a bit difficult.”

Only at that moment did you look around the room, trying to understand what she was talking about, and sure enough, there were quite a few things one could point out as not exactly being tidy, but considering how much worse apartments you had witnessed over the years, it was nothing too bad. No matter how much she talked herself down, Furina still made sure her home had a certain level of tidiness, after all.

“No need to apologize, it’s really not that bad, especially considering you probably weren’t too used to living alone before. If you need help with anything however, just tell me and I’ll lend you a hand. The only thing I’m judging you for are your acting skills after all”, you responded half-jokingly and while it didn’t seem to have too much of an effect at first, you did notice Furina gradually returning to her usual self during the course of your meal.

Eventually however, the storm finally subsided, leaving you free to finally return home. “Thanks a lot for today’s rehearsal and for letting me stay here instead of walking through the rain. Until next time, Furina”, you said your goodbyes only for Furina to quickly step forward and open the door for you, gesturing you to step through the door with a smile once again adorning her lips.

The following weeks brought surprisingly little changes to Furina’s schedule, something that would have usually meant a lot of discontent from her side, considering how she liked to spice things up every now and again, detesting the idea of living through the same cycle day in and day out. And yet, she found herself rather content with it all. And although your private rehearsals still continued outside of your normal one’s, they strayed further and further from their original goal as time went on, both of you starting to simply use it as a convenient excuse to hang out instead of solely using it to rehearse.

And so, after you had managed to rehearse the few remaining lines until you knew them from both heart and memory, the two of you still found yourself with a lot of time left, the sun still far from setting as it illuminated even the least accessible corners of Fontaine. Furina had nearly suggested parting for the day, when you had come up with a different idea, one she found herself easily getting on board with.

“Would you like to go eat somewhere? I feel like I’m starving”, if it hadn’t been for the sound of your stomach rumbling, Furina could have caught herself thinking you were simply too shy to ask her to spend a bit more time together, and while your face was as red as she imagined her own would be when asking you out on a date, it was a safe bet to say you blushing probably had a lot more to do with the previously mentioned reason than with anything romantic.

And here you were now, sitting at a table for two in a cafe she had always wanted to visit but didn’t find the time to, Furina already having placed her order while you still struggled with choosing what you’d like to eat, intensely staring at the menu in your hand while subconsciously making a… rather cute face. It had taken her quite a bit of convincing to make the cafe owner accept money from her, arguing that there was no reason to treat her any differently from the other citizens since she wasn’t their Archon any more, but even then the two of them could only agree on a discount, and yet all the conflicted feelings the undeserved, preferential treatment made her feel, vanished into thin air while she observed you, a small smile making its way onto her face when your eyes widened the moment they skimmed over the parfait section.

“Looks like you made your decision”, she joked as you got startled by the sound of her voice, your face turning red as you avoided eye-contact.

“No, I was just wondering why they were selling parfaits in a cafe like this. I doubt there’s any children visiting this place”, you argued back, only for the blue-haired girl's smile to get ever so slightly bigger.

Oh my, what happened to your usual self? Was all it took for you to get self-conscious to be surrounded by strangers in a public place? If so, she was surprised you could walk onto the stage as easily as you did, never so much as showing the slightest hint of nervousness while acting.

“Excuse me, could I have two parfaits please”, she asked the server passing by, only to receive a nod of acknowledgement before they wrote something down.

“Didn’t you already order something?”, was all you had to ask, the slightest hint of teasing in your voice, only for Furina to give you a small smile in return.

“Just demonstrating how easy it can be to pick something. Did it help?”

When she saw you struggle not to smile at her comment, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself by taking a sip of her drink and before she knew it, you had finally managed to order a drink, only for her second order to arrive merely moments after you had done so. Without saying a word, she slid one of the two desserts over to you before quickly making up an excuse to appease your mind.

“I may have ordered a bit too much for myself, would you mind sharing?”

When you finally finished your act of reluctantly accepting the food and took your first bite, only to throw any semblance of ego out of the window as you practically began melting in front of her the second your spoon made contact with the inside of your mouth. It was then that Furina caught herself shamelessly staring at you, ignoring her own food entirely as her stomach was filled with butterflies at the sight of how happy you were. It was cute, there was no use in calling it anything else anymore, and the thought that you were this happy just because of her filled her with an indescribable feeling. Sure, there had been many times she inspired positive feelings in others, but never before in her entire life was it anyone she considered close, so knowing she could make your days a little brighter with small deeds like these gave her hopes that she wasn’t completely without a purpose in life.

She hadn’t even noticed her mouth slightly opening before your voice had brought her back to reality, instantly causing her to turn away as her face heated up. 

“Do I have something on my face?”, you asked, only for Furina to try her best at playing it off, nervously piecing her response together word for word until she had found something workable, something that allowed the day to continue for a little bit longer before you eventually had to part ways.

As time went on, both of you began to care less and less about the big show on your doorstep, you had spent more time than anyone reciting your lines, learning them until you knew them better than their author, studied your choreography until you were certain you would be able to seamlessly perform your roles even in pitch-black darkness and were instead spending most of your time together doing what you wanted, already having practiced everything there was...

Well, there was one more scene left for the two of you to rehearse. One you two had procrastinated on for weeks. Was it because it was the final scene in the play or because the longer Furina got to know you, the more nervous she became whenever it got closer. You had miraculously avoided having to rehearse it with the others around, Furina bluffing her way out of it by telling the director doing so was just a waste of time, since it only required the two of you and you had practiced it often enough in private for there to be any need. The whole discussion was embarrassing, but far less mentally scarring than it would have been if she hadn’t said anything. 

That being said, today was the last chance to rehearse it, and while neither of you had any problems with anything up until now, you could see her grow more and more tense with every word you spoke.

“I have many regrets in my life, whether one of my many mistakes and shortcomings, or moments in which I stood and watched while I should have acted. I chose to follow you, even though it meant I’d see many of those I treasured the most leave without saying their goodbyes. I fought with you at least as often as I fought by your side, often facing death head on, and still I wear more scars on my heart than on my body”, you spoke with an aura of certainty, one that forced people to listen whether they wanted to or not, your voice was strict as if lecturing someone yet still carried a hint of gratitude, one getting more noticeable once your face softened, “And yet, if I were given the chance to go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t. Because no matter how much misery this path I took led me to, it also allowed me to stay by your side, something I wouldn’t trade for anything this world has to offer.”

“Why?”, Furina asked in a tone that was as soft as it was confused, only for you to smile in response, one, while amused in nature, still shined as radiantly as a stagelight.

“Because I love you.”

Furina was a masterful actress, being able to come up with suitable responses on the go and, with the exception of a few cases, never breaking character. And yet, even though she knew fully well what the script intended for you to do, when you started to slowly lean in, she just couldn’t do it, shutting her eyes in embarrassment as her face turned red enough to match a tomato.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t!”, she practically screamed in your face, only to immediately apologize, feeling herself shrinking as she wished for nothing more than to sink through the floor. And yet, her wish wasn’t granted, and instead she found herself still standing in front of you the next time she opened her eyes, just in a far more pathetic manner than previously.

When Furina looked up at your face however, the shocked look on your face spoke more than a million words, your questions being so clearly on display that they might as well just be written all over your forehead.

“No problem, I’m sure it must be awkward to do this with a friend, even if it’s just for show… Ah, just imagine someone else, like a-... celebrity you had a crush on… or a cardboard cut-out of yourself”, you tried to lift the mood with a small joke, barely managing to raise the corners of your lips yourself when you saw her still worried face.

“I-... never did this before”, Furina murmured out, barely loud enough for it to be intelligible, and yet, you picked up on it, immediately raising your eyebrows.

“Kiss someone for a play?”, you asked, only for the former Archon to shake her head, her face turning a deep red as you saw her struggle to speak.

“Kiss… someone.” It shouldn’t be such a big deal, she spent the last 500 years playing the role of the Archon of Fontaine, never as much as making a single meaningful human connection, so her not having a slither of romantic experience was nothing surprising. Kissing anyone else for a play also wouldn’t have been that difficult, since Furina was sure she’d be able to enter her professional mode and just see it as a normal part of her career, and yet, with you, she found the task almost insurmountable, her heart beating with such ferocity and pace that it was a wonder you couldn’t hear it while she grew so nervous that it became difficult to breathe whenever you said or did anything romantic… even if it was clearly just part of the script. 

“Oh”, was all you managed to say, a downcast expression setting on your face for a split second before it quickly vanished, replaced with an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry I have to be your first, I’m sure you’d want to save it for someone special, but considering we don’t have any rehearsals until the show anymore we have to practice the scene today”, you stated only for worry to once again fill your mind when Furina didn’t seem to react at all, simply having shut her eyes while taking deep breaths, only to suddenly spring in action the moment you opened your mouth to say something once again, pressing her lips against yours with such determination that it took you completely off-guard, before eventually pulling away.

“There’s no one else I’d want to give my first kiss to more than you”, Furina spoke, having summoned enough courage to finally speak again, although her voice was still somewhat shaky. It took you a few moments to finally comprehend what was happening, although by the time you did, she had already started her next sentence.

“I love you. I don’t know for how long, but I know why. I love to make you smile, I love to hear your laugh. I love that you didn’t judge me no matter how arrogant and overly brazen I can be from time to time or no matter what a mess I am outside of acting. Without you my only interactions would either be for work or with the shop owner. I’ve learned and experienced so much these past few months, and I know it wouldn’t have been possible on my own. You confide in me so much, and I wish for nothing more than to finally start doing the same, but I still can’t bring myself to do it when there’s just the smallest possibility of us not seeing each other again once this play is done. So will you please tell me how you feel so I can put either my wishes or fears to rest?”

Now that Furina voiced her feelings, she felt herself deflate like a balloon, all of her summoned courage leaving her body as she started to squirm at how cheesy she sounded, but before she could fall into old habits and start looking for an escape, she was brought back to reality by the feeling of her hands being taken into yours, causing her to look up for a split-second, one long enough for you to give her your answer by placing your lips on her’s.

“Was that enough to get my feelings across, Furina?” The moment the words left your mouth, Furina embraced you in a hug, holding onto you as if her life depended on it before you quickly put your arms around her as well, only for the sound of her sobbing to cause a mixture of worry and confusion to flare up inside of you. Just as you were about to comfort her however, you were interrupted by a giggle, faint at first but growing louder until Furina was laughing to herself in between her tears, her lips curled into a genuine smile as she pulled back and looked you in the eyes, her own slightly puffy.

“We can celebrate later, we still have a scene to practice.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #furina x you #furina #furina x y/n #furina x reader

[tailschannel]

HOLLYWOOD ACTORS AND STUDIOS ANNOUNCE TENTATIVE AGREEMENT, ENDING HISTORIC STRIKE

A tentative agreement has been officially reached between Hollywood's actors' union and studios, ending the historic labour disruption.

SAG-AFTRA's tentative deal with the AMPTP secured "above-pattern" minimum compensation increases, provisions for consent and compensation to protect members from artificial intelligence, and streaming participation bonuses.

Dear SAG-AFTRA Members: We are thrilled and proud to tell you that today your TV/Theatrical Negotiating Committee voted unanimously to approve a tentative agreement with the AMPTP. As of 12:01 a.m. PT on Nov. 9, our strike is officially suspended and all picket locations are closed. We will be in touch in the coming days with information about celebration gatherings around the country. In a contract valued at over one billion dollars, we have achieved a deal of extraordinary scope that includes "above-pattern" minimum compensation increases, unprecedented provisions for consent and compensation that will protect members from the threat of AI, and for the first time establishes a streaming participation bonus. Our Pension & Health caps have been substantially raised, which will bring much needed value to our plans. In addition, the deal includes numerous improvements for multiple categories including outsize compensation increases for background performers, and critical contract provisions protecting diverse communities. We have arrived at a contract that will enable SAG-AFTRA members from every category to build sustainable careers. Many thousands of performers now and into the future will benefit from this work. Full details of the agreement will not be provided until the tentative agreement is reviewed by the SAG-AFTRA National Board. We also thank our union siblings — the workers that power this industry — for the sacrifices they have made while supporting our strike and that of the Writers Guild of America. We stand together in solidarity and will be there for you when you need us. Thank you all for your dedication, your commitment and your solidarity throughout this strike. It is because of YOU that these improvements became possible. In solidarity and gratitude, Your TV/Theatrical Negotiating Committee.

The contract, valued at one billion USD, has yet to be ratified, but the union announced that the strike will end this Thursday, 9 November 2023 at midnight PST.

Sonic movie screenwriter Pat Casey acknowledged the announcement late Wednesday night on X, the social media website formerly known as Twitter, and said that he's "excited that everyone in this business, cast, crew, everybody, can finally get back to work doing what we do best - entertaining people!"

No word from Paramount as of yet, or the studio's upcoming production plans for the third Sonic the Hedgehog film, currently scheduled to debut in 2024.

#sonic movie 3 #sonic movie #sonic movie spoilers #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #paramount pictures #sega #shadow the hedgehog #sag aftra #unions #sonic news

[todayontumblr]

Thursday May 4.

Dracula Daily.

You've got mail.

Sometimes it's just more satisfying to take things in little morsels. There's something about the slow, steady, pinch of consumption that can make for a better, more pleasing experience. A banquet is great, for sure, and there's certainly a time and a place for more upon more—for gorging and gluttony in the face of the seven deadly sins. But sometimes, taking something piece by little piece makes for a slow-burning, deep satisfaction. Oh, would you look at that. It's May 4. And we find ourselves one day into #dracula daily.

From now until the dark months, we will be slowly, neigh, seductively making our way through Bram Stoker's 1897 classic and savor every last morsel of existential angst, unexpected comedy, visceral horror, Victorian immersion, crucifixes, garlic, paprika, yearning, macabre theatrics, crippling loneliness, maritime law, Gothic suspense, and, of course, homoerotic angst and queer debauchery. 

A mere skim through #dracula daily will find Tumblr's vast vampire fandom at its very best with an array of memes, polls, discourse, and a whole lotta love for one Jonathan Harker.

#today on tumblr #dracula daily #vampires #jonathan harker #dracula

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 17

Damn, how did this get to a part 17????

Here's the promised WIP Wednesday (on a Thursday)!

I had a lot of fun writing this part. The words just flowed so easily.

If you didn't notice, I now have the first arc posted on AO3. It covers the first three parts I've shared here along with some extras that I never did.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.9k

-----

By the time morning had rolled around, Tim had also signed them up for a 7:30 AM and a 6 PM TV interview. Hopefully they could do enough damage control to mitigate the worst of Walker’s bad PR, whatever that turned out to be.

Tim nudged everyone awake at 5 AM. Conner and Cassie got up the easiest.

“Morning, Rob,” Conner said through a yawn. “Time to prepare for our interview?”

“Yep. We’ll be going in uniform since this is an interview for the Young Justice.”

“Great,” said Cassie. “We’ll be ready.”

Tim went to Danny next. “Hey, Danny.” The boy didn’t move, so Tim shook his shoulder slightly.

“Wha…?” Danny blinked his eyes open. “Wha’s goin on?”

“Me and the others are going to our interviews. We’ll be back in a few hours, kay?”

Danny just blinked at him and Tim laughed fondly.

“I’ll leave a note.”

Tim skipped breakfast on their way out, though Bart offered him some breakfast bars.

“It’s too late to be up,” Tim yawned.

Conner laughed as he hugged Tim and wrapped him in his TTK. They rose several feet into the air. “You should not have pulled that all-nighter.”

“How else was I supposed to be awake in time?”

Tim could feel the way Conner shook his head. “Just tell me where to go. I’ll get us there.”

Tim pointed to an area in town. “It’s over that way.”

Bart grinned. “I’ll meet you three there!”

“We won’t be long,” said Cassie.

With the benefit of flying, they were at the radio station within fifteen minutes. Sometimes being friends with metas made life so much easier.

As soon as they entered, a team of people greeted them.

“You were actually serious!” exclaimed a tall, white man. “Thought for sure it was a joke when I got your email last night. I’m Steve and I’ll be your interviewer this morning.”

Tim shook his hand. “Good morning, Steve. Robin at your service, and these are Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.”

Then they had to be introduced to all the producers, sound engineers, and assistants. If it hadn’t been for his parents’ gala training, Tim was certain he would’ve forgotten all the names instantly.

The employees knew how to do their jobs, however, and despite everyone wanting to meet the heroes, in less than twenty minutes, they were set up in the recording studio.

“So,” said Steve. “I just want to make sure I get this right. You, Robin, have been friends with Phantom for a while now and wanted to tell our listeners the truth about him. That he’s actually a hero and not a menace.”

“That’s right, Steve. I knew him before… Well, he’s a ghost. You know what before implies. He was there for me when I first became Robin. Now I want to be there for him when he’s dealing with similar struggles.”

“That’s not what any of the experts believe.”

Conner snorted. “The so-called experts in this town want to completely destroy any and all ghosts. Don’t think they’re unbiased.”

Bart nodded. “Yeah. We may not have known Phantom as long as Robin, here. But he’s a good guy. Helped us out when we got stranded here.”

“Stranded, eh? Mind if I ask you more about that on air?”

Tim laughed. “You can ask whatever you like. But I can’t guarantee we’ll answer everything. Secret missions and all that, you understand.”

Steve sighed theatrically. “It was worth a shot. Now, we’ll be going live in about five minutes and we’ll have three segments of eight minutes separated by two minute ad breaks. For a total of thirty minutes in the studio. Anything in particular you want me to ask?”

Tim pulled a sheet of paper out of his utility belt. “I wrote some down, if you don’t mind. They should be engaging and broad enough to please your audience and personal curiosity.”

“I won’t ask only from this list, you understand,” said Steve as he took it.

“Of course not. The first three are ones I do request that you ask, however. Beyond those, they’re just suggestions.”

Steve skimmed the list and nodded. “I can work with this.”

Beyond the window, the sound technician made a signal.

“All right, everyone. That’s the one minute mark. Let me introduce you before you say anything, capiche?”

Tim gave a thumbs up and the others added their assent.

The “on air” light turned on and Steve spoke in a voice much more performative than the one he’d been using. “Good Morning, Amity Park! This is Steve Boyce here to help you bring in the day. How are you early birds doing? Have I got a treat for you today! So last night I got absolutely no sleep because at nine thirty, shortly after our newly implemented curfew, I got a surprise email. From no other than the heroes who helped us out the other night when we were attacked! That’s right! The one and only Robin from Gotham emailed my and asked to come on my small, local show. So he and the Teen Titans are here with me. Let’s give them a warm Amity welcome, what do you say?”

Cassie laughed. “Thanks for that introduction, Steve. I’m Wonder Girl and I’d like to clarify one point. The former Teen Titans have kept the name Titans even if they’re no longer Teens. So we’ve decided to go by a new name.”

Bart nodded. “Yep. We’re the Young Justice now.”

Steve laughed. “Looks like I’ve already put my foot in it. Let me correct myself, let’s give the Young Justice a warm Amity welcome.”

Tim put on the happy gala voice his parents had drilled into him. “Not at all! It’s a new change and we’ve never really operated out here before. Even back home in San Francisco or Gotham we get called the Teen Titans more often than not. We’re just on a crusade to get the name change to stick.”

“Well I’m sure all of my listeners will be sure to get it right going forward. Now, let’s get down to business. We’re all thrilled that you were around to help us out the other night, but what brought you to Amity to begin with? Mayor Montez has publicly stated he never even had a chance to reach out for help before you were on the scene.”

“That was all Robin’s doing,” said Conner. “He’s friends with Phantom, you know.”

“Yep,” agreed Tim. “We were in the area when our transport broke down. Impulse figured out where we were and I knew of Amity due to my friendship with Phantom. Since we weren’t on a time limit, we decided to pop into town for a visit. Imagine our surprise when our very first evening here, we experienced a ghost invasion!”

Cassie laughed. “Oh, come on, Rob. With our lives, it really wasn’t that surprising.”

“Yeah,” said Bart. “We’ve totally had weirder things happen to us.”

Steve leaned forward and pitched his tone lower as if conspiring with them. “Well, I’ll definitely be asking for some of the details on what those might’ve been later. But first, I have to ask. Robin, how did you meet Phantom? He’s that ghost in the black-and-white jumpsuit, right? As far as I know, he’s only ever been seen in Amity. And you’ve certainly never been here before.”

Tim took a breath, this was the moment. “Yep, that’s him. And, well, it may be strange, but I knew him before he was ever Phantom.”

“Before he was Phantom? Do you mean…” Steve let his voice trail off.

Tim let out a low sigh and closed his eyes. He really had to sell this. “Yeah.” He made sure his voice was rough. “Yeah. I knew him before he died. He was one of my best friends growing up and we’ve known each other for years.”

Conner put a hand on his shoulder. “Rob…”

When even Steve needed a second to figure out how to reply, Tim figured he did a good enough job. “So you know him when he was alive,” Steve said. “Who was he? Where did he live?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” said Tim. “He was young when he died and his family don’t need people harassing them. They’ve been through a lot. And I know Phantom’s reputation isn’t the best.”

Steve let out another put-upon sigh. “And there you go being reasonable when all I want is the hot gossip. Fine, no questions about who Phantom was. I’m sure you were thrilled when you found out he came back as a ghost, though.”

Tim laughed and was glad Steve was able to change the mood of the interview so quickly without him doing anything. “Oh absolutely. I near about had a heart attack when he called me up out of the blue to say he was a ghost now! This was my first opportunity to visit him since, you know.”

Conner nudged him. “So he brought us along for the ride.”

Steve hummed. “So for the rest of you, this is your first time meeting Phantom?”

“Yep,” said Bart. “I like him. He’s cool.”

“So, Impulse, you think he’s trying to help us. Because it seems like whenever he shows up, things get broken and we have to spend days or weeks and tens of thousands on repairs.”

“Robin knows more about it than I do,” said Bart, “but I guess what let Phantom cross back over to Earth is allowing other ghosts to cross back over. Phantom just wants to spend more time with his living family and friends. The others ghosts…”

“They want more than that,” finished Tim. “Phantom’s explained it to me a bit. They all have something driving them that can only be fulfilled on Earth. And they don’t care what they have to do to satisfy that drive. So Phantom steps in to try and prevent them from causing too much damage or hurting anyone. Then he forces them back to the dimension they come from.”

“In fact,” added Cassie. “We spent all night talking with Phantom and we got his side of the story on several of his fights since he first came to Amity. We’ve written it all up and submitted them to the local paper, so look in the OpEds over the next few days if you want to know the truth.”

“Oh, well now you’ve definitely got me intrigued! I think I will. Anything you'd be willing to share with us now?”

“Do you remember how a month or two ago, a giant robot was seen in Amity?” asked Tim.

“Not something I’m likely to forget!”

Tim laughed. “I’m sure! Well, what you don’t know is that he crossed over to Earth from the Ghost Zone about three or four days before you ever saw him. Phantom kept him from gaining a physical body for days before Technus was able to get past him.”

“Really? So you’re saying that without Phantom, we would’ve been dealing with that robot for a lot longer?”

“Yep.”

Steve asked several more questions about Phantom. Some serious: How does he plan to decrease property damage going forward? We’re coaching him on how to move a fight and deescalate conflict. And some light hearted: So I heard he’s a dog person? Oh, absolutely. A ghost dog adopted him a few weeks ago.

Then the questions turned more personal as he moved on from Phantom and asked about their lives and exploits. And before they knew it, the interview was over.

“Thanks for reaching out,” Steve said as soon as they left the recording studio. “You are by far the biggest guests I’ve ever had on.”

“Thanks for agreeing to have us on so last minute,” said Tim.

“How could I possibly say no?”

-----

Next

Hope you enjoyed the interview! I probably won't go into detail for the TV one since it'd just be rehashing the same information.

I no longer do tag lists, but I do have a Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates.

#dpxdc #tim excels at interviews #his parents trained him for it from the cradle #and the rest have done them before #and they actually care about making danny look good #so theyre gonna behave #steve didnt sleep a wink before this interview #he got the email and was half convinced it was a prank #had a backup show planned and everything #the staff totally made copies of this show #and everyone took home a tape #(management turned a blind eye though thats usually discouraged)

[libraryofgage]

The Prince and the Metalhead (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two (you're here!)

I know I just posted part one but I've got Thoughts for this AU that include: Steve's first birthday in Genovia and then his 16th, his conversation with his grandmother about attending public school in America for his senior year, and then we get into him attending Hawkins High and meeting Eddie!

So, yeah, plans lmao

Anyway, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

------

"You'll have a rotating course schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays will focus on math and social studies. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be science and literature. Friday will be Royalty lessons and the history of Genovia. We can also include an elective, if you'd like."

Steve blinks, staring at Sue for a moment before glancing at Jonathan and Robin. Jonathan is looking through a book of photography and Robin is idly scratching behind Dart’s ears. "Will we all have the same elective?" Steve asks.

"Not unless Jonathan and Robin want to join you," Sue says, looking at Steve expectantly. She's got a pen at the ready to write down what he says, and it suddenly feels like a lot of pressure.

Is there a wrong answer here? Is there an answer that gets him sent back to his parents? He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Before he can lose himself in his thoughts, a cold and wet nose presses against his hand. Steve blinks, smiling at Dart and picking her up to hold close. "What kind of electives are there?" he asks.

Sue hums softly, flipping to another page on her clipboard. "Possible electives include art, music, theatrical performance, physical education, equestrian studies, botany, and foreign languages, to name a few."

"I'll be taking photography lessons," Jonathan says, looking up at Steve and gesturing to his book.

Robin nods and leans back on her palms. "I'll be doing the physical stuff. Like learning how to fight and practicing ballet to improve my balance," she says, leveling a look at Steve that dares him to say anything about the ballet.

Steve wouldn't, though. He doesn't want to make Robin angry enough to ditch him. He looks down at Dart, thinking for a moment before asking, "Can I take more than one?"

"Of course, but you're limited to three for now," Sue says.

What would be the most helpful? Foreign languages, probably, since he'll definitely have to speak with ambassadors from other countries at some point. He should also learn something that can be shown off, a skill that he could pull out at functions to make his grandmother proud or distract guests.

"What language should I learn?" he asks.

Sue thinks for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin. "Mandarin. It's a business language, and we have close relations with a few representatives from China and Hong Kong. If you'd like to learn a Romantic language first, though, Spanish is good."

"I'll learn Mandarin," Steve decides, nodding once to himself. "And music. I want to learn to play...hmm...the piano."

With a nod, Sue writes his electives down. "Let me know if you'd like to add an elective later, Your Highness. In my opinion, though, your current courses will keep you properly challenged for now."

------------------------

Sue wasn't kidding about his academics being challenging. Steve struggles in math, muddles his way through science, drags himself through literature, and is ready to drop when he hits social studies. He'd ask the tutors to spend more time on topics, but Robin and Jonathan seem to have no problem keeping up, and Steve can't bring himself to disrupt their pace.

His Mandarin lessons are going just slightly better if only because the tutor seems to recognize that slower is better for him. After almost a month, he's starting to understand intonation and vocal variation better, and he can recognize a few characters on sight.

Piano lessons are also going well. His tutor there doesn't burden him with theory; she introduces the keys, shows him how to read sheet music, and then lets him choose songs to learn. Steve feels the most at ease when he's squinting at sheet music and slowly pressing piano keys into something recognizable.

The lessons he really looks forward to, however, are the ones for his Royalty Education. He gets to see his grandmother then, and she spends the whole day with him. Even better, something about this stuff just clicks. He's good at fixing his posture and memorizing silverware placement. He bows just right on his first try and his grandmother compliments his wave.

By the end of the lesson, she'll be smiling, her pride obvious, and take him for a walk in the gardens or to eat cookies in the kitchen.

"Royalty requires maintenance," Clarisse says, standing in front of Steve with relaxed shoulders. "You maintain your demeanor, your image, your knowledge of foreign dignitaries, your understanding of the people’s needs, and your humility. But you must also maintain your pride and your boundaries."

"That sounds like a lot," Steve says, idly tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"It can be overwhelming, but it becomes second nature in time," Clarisse explains, smiling reassuringly. "When you're royalty, you are constantly watched. Many eyes are kind or curious, but others are malicious, and you want to do everything you can to disappoint the malicious ones."

"How?"

"By acting like the Crown Prince you are."

"What kind of prince am I?" Steve asks, finally voicing the question that's been lingering since these lessons started. What kind of prince does his grandmother want? What kind of prince would best serve the people? What kind of prince will be so loved by all that nobody could even think of thinking about getting rid of him?

Clarisse hums, thinking for a moment. "I suppose a good one," she says, her slight smile telling Steve that she's only lightly teasing. "My hope is that you'll be kind and competent. You will make Genovia prosperous without compromising tradition. You won't allow politics to stand in the way of doing what's right by the people of Genovia. But this is a tiring job, so I hope you'll learn how to balance your duties with relaxation."

It's a lot, but Steve can do it. He can be that kind of prince, especially for the country and grandmother that's offered everything he's ever wanted and more. He nods once. "Okay," he says, "What do I need to learn, then?"

Clarisse smiles fondly at him. "Let's start by reviewing Genovian history. Only by knowing the past can you face the future."

With that, she places a book on Steve's desk and doesn't wait for him to open it before telling him about Genovia's founding.

------------------------

Steve has weekends off from classes, which leaves him with more free time than he knows what to do with when he doesn't have to clean a house or make his own meals. So, he's bored, and telling Robin that he was bored was a huge mistake after she suggested riding bikes around the garden only to learn Steve didn't know how.

She'd insisted that he should learn, insisted that Clarisse be the one who teaches him, and insisted on hearing no objections.

And now he's here, standing in front of Clarisse's desk and staring down at his feet as she finishes writing something on the paper in front of her. Joe is standing just to her right, hands behind his back.

"Okay," Clarisse says, gently placing her pen on the desk before looking at Steve with an encouraging smile. "What did you want to ask me, Steve?"

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, takes a deep breath, and looks up. "Well, um, Robin wants to ride bikes, but I don't know how," he says.

"Well, that's easily fixed," Clarisse says, reaching for a phone at the corner of her desk. "I'm sure a member of staff is free to teach you."

Before she can pick up the phone, Steve finds himself blurting out, "Well, I...I was hoping...you could teach me."

Clarisse freezes, blinking twice with confusion before looking at Steve. "You want me to teach you?" she asks. When Steve nods once, she sighs softly. "A queen does not ride bikes. Besides, I have too much work to complete. Perhaps I could accompany you for a walk this evening to make up for it."

Despite himself, despite bracing for rejection, it still hurts. In the three months he's been in Genovia, Clarisse has agreed to just about every request he's made. Every held breath as he waits for cruel words has been released with unprecedented relief when none came. Even when he broke something---a priceless vase, according to Jonathan---his grandmother had simply surveyed the damage, thanked him for being honest, and asked him to avoid kicking soccer balls in the presence of priceless vases in the future.

Perhaps Steve has gotten too comfortable. He shouldn't be pushing like this. If he wants his grandmother's affection, he should know when to hold himself back.

So, despite the unfamiliar urge to ask again in case Clarisse might change her mind, Steve nods once. "I look forward to walking with you, Grandmother," he says, his voice quiet. He glances up, waiting long enough to see Clarisse's smile before turning on his heel and leaving the office as quickly as he can.

Clarisse watches him go, her head slightly tilted as the door closes silently behind Steve. She nods once, glad that Steve is sensible enough to understand things like work and propriety, and picks up her pen once more.

"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?" Joe asks.

"At this point, Joe, you may as well assume the answer is yes."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, and please pardon my French, my experience has been that assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

It takes a moment for Clarisse to understand the joke. When she does, she can't help her amused smile. "Fair enough," she says, "Go ahead, Joe."

"Do you remember what I said about being Steve's grandmother?"

"Yes, of course."

"Perhaps now is one of those moments where being a grandmother is more important than being a queen. His Highness does not ask for much, and he is not the kind to ask more than once, even if he really wants something. I imagine it took a significant amount of courage to ask you to teach him in the first place."

"Are you suggesting that I...I risk making a fool of myself for all to see?" Clarisse asks.

"I am suggesting you spend time with your grandson, who asks very little of you because he does not believe he can ask for anything."

Clarisse is silent a moment, letting Joe's words process and settle in her brain. Finally, she sighs and gestures to the papers on her desk. "I have work to complete," she says.

"Your Majesty, editing these proposals was on your schedule two weeks from now. You are ahead of your work. A break would not be unreasonable or unwarranted."

Well, when he puts it like that.

Clarisse sighs, leans back in her chair, and looks up at Joe. He's still staring at the door, giving no indication that he feels her eyes on him, but she knows he does. "Have a groundskeeper retrieve bikes and safety gear and meet us in the garden," she says, standing from her chair and bracing herself to look like an utter fool.

Her apprehension fades away fifteen minutes later. It can't hold last when she sees Steve's surprised and delighted expression at her presence. As she helps him put on knee and elbow pads, shows him how to pull the helmet's strap tight, and holds the bike steady as he sits on it, Clarisse decides a little foolishness is perfectly fine (necessary, even) if it will keep the smile on Steve's face.

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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord,

#stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #princess diaries crossover #queen clarisse renaldi #modern royalty au #future steddie #robin buckley #jonathan byers #the party's parents #my writing #anybody else ever have that experience where the first time you realize that somebody won't make you feel guilty for asking for things #you get way in your head about not asking for the one (1) thing that will ruin it all for you #so every time you ask for something new you're bracing to take the request back as quickly as you can #just me? #aight then lmao #to absolutely nobody's surprise i am projecting on steve harrington #if you made it this far in the tags #you deserve a cookie lmao

[gideonisms]

something that probably explains a lot about me and my interests is that when I was 15 I was involved in a christian theatrical swordfighting group. we met in the park every Thursday to swing swords at each other in a god-honoring way and learn gender roles it would take us the next ten years to unpack

#something that explains everything else about me is i was homeschooled until i was 15 then went to a christian school #with a graduating class of under 20 that was not accredited at the time

[archonsoflove]

The Laws of Attraction

A Neuvilette Character Study

Gender Neutral! Reader/Neuvilette Pairing

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Fontaine’s politics had always been something of a theatrical marvel to outsiders. Raised in Inazuma, where even the smallest affairs – whether it be a whirlwind romance or a white lie – were kept secret to spare social ostracization, you found this strange.

The way crime was dealt with terrified, and both thrilled you upon your first visit to the Opera Epiclese.

“I do hope you have been enjoying your time in Fontaine.”

Out of all the members of the High Court to approach you, you had not expected Chief Justice Neuvilette, the Ordainer of Inexorable Judgement. This man’s demeanour in court alone had every spectator take in a breath, waiting on the edge of their seats for the final verdict.

“It was unlike anything I have ever seen in court before,” you admitted, casting your eyes down to the marble stairs leading to the Lucine Fountain.

-

Neuvilette had found you to be a refreshing addition to his days in court after your first meeting. As a highly regarded member of the Fouche family, he discovered that you had returned to Fontaine due to your mother’s health.

“I haven’t been home since I was little.” The wine had loosened your tongue on an evening invited out to dine with him. “But Fouche does have a lovely ring to it, doesn’t it? My father loved his work in and out of the courtroom…”

“Surely you are glad to be home?” sympathy swam amongst hues of lilac in his eyes. A tea candle glimmered in the centre of the table, trapping the deeper notes of violet in fire.

And you were. Seeing the land you wished you had grown up in took your breath away. Over the past few days, you had felt more at ease than you had ever in your twenty year life. There was something about the water, the air and the aura of the people that sent excitement thrumming through your being.

And just maybe, a certain attachment to your new acquaintance.

-

“I haven’t asked you about your vision yet,” Neuvilette observed, voice gentle in the late evening.

The two of you were walking through the quaintly lit streets down to the Marcotte Station when he brought it up. The day had been long and tedious, and your last enquiry for the day had passed.

“Oh?” you tapped the vision laying against your breastbone, much like the fine necklaces the Fontainian nobility so often wore. “I am afraid it’s not of much use. I was gifted as a Healer.”

A hint of a frown threatened to overtake the man’s features, before he stopped walking entirely. You were stunned when he brought an elegant and finely boned hand up to gently brush your cheek.

“In the time I have known you, I am most certain that the God of Dendro made no mistake when she chose you.”

The jolt your heart gave at hearing such sincerity did not go unnoticed.

“I suppose you’re right,” you tried to brush him off. “But surely your vision holds more weight than mine in terms of power?”

It was then that you noticed that Neuvilette did not hold a vision. But after so many visits to his office to deliver files, marvelling at the small bursts of hydro that seemed to land on his desk in small baubles, how could it be that he had no element to wield?

-

You hadn’t known about Navia until her appearances in court.

The weather had been terrible. And Neuvilette had remained in his office up until Thursday, shadows beneath his eyes, and pale hair falling from its usual style, framing his face.

“I’ve been neglectful lately, and for that I apologize,” he had started. The sound of tea being stirred filled the silence as you waited for him to continue. It was in moments like these that you knew an ear to lend was most appropriate.

His office remained the same: put together, and lined with shelves full of novels you couldn’t begin to familiarize yourself with.

“Navia is a very old acquaintance, and her father even moreso. He was held on trial, and I made an error that I still haven’t, and will never come back from.”

As he continued retelling the events of the past few days, you sat and listened. You could not help but look at the man before you, stunned and filled with grief, witnessing his composure slowly start to crack.

Thunder rolled outside, heavy and quaking. You both looked up inn surprise, as if that would help you acknowledge the sound better. A small, watery laugh left you, and you brought up a hand to wipe away a tear from your cheek.

Your heart swelled with empathy, seeing Neuvilette reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket. For a man so threatening in court, behind closed doors, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

-

Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry!

You had heard the children chant in the streets, jumping in puddles and huddling under parasols to fetch warm goods at the bakery. But you had held no truth in the saying, and simply found it charming.

But you found it strange that it rained only when Neuvilette locked himself away in his office for days on end after a particularly gruelling and unfortunate trial. You wondered if his lack of vision may have been a decoy…

MASTERLIST

SEND AN ASK / FIC REQUEST!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact character study #neuvilette #neuvilette genshin #genshin impact fontaine #genshin fontaine #genshin neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #fontaine #neuvillette genshin #neuvilette angst #genshin navia #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fandom #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact headcanons #neuvilette headcanons

[nerdalmighty]

hey! so, i just recently started playing baldur's gate 3 after seeing people put it all over my dash for months--and you're one of the people i've seen reblogging a lot of posts about it LOL. so if you don't mind me asking, i was wondering what kind of character do you/did you play as? and do you have any sort of backstory for your tav that you'd like to share?

Hoooooooooooooh my god thank you so much for asking. I have a friend who comes over to watch me play on Thursdays and I make a powerpoint every week to catch her up on what she missed - this week's powerpoint literally has slides about my Tav's background (more on those later). This is about to be long, I'm about to drop ALL my lore so buckle up! AND THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY BG3 BRAIN WORMS!!!!! I'm glad they convinced you to play 😈

So to begin, I've been in my first ever dnd campaign with a group of friends for a little over a year now. I didn't know much about Baldur's Gate except that it was a dnd video game and that you could romance people. Me, being a Big Fan of Romance And Fantasy was like "okay well I'm in" and my friend actually let me start a game at his house. Through that, I met Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion.

Backing up a bit to my character; I decided I'd put my character from my irl dnd campaign into the game since I already knew her whole deal. I get pretty overwhelmed with making decisions, ESPECIALLY with big open world games like bg3, so knowing who/what I wanted to be really helped me out.

In the campaign I'm in with friends, it's pirate themed, and I play a half-elf bard named Birdie Harp who's secretly half-siren (murder mermaid). To make a long story very short, she was born in the arctic and escaped her murderous pod during a coming-of-age trial where she also lost her siren abilities (hypnotizing voice, breathing underwater, etc).

I've watched a ton of Dimension 20 which is an actual play show on Dropout.tv (an "actual play" is where you watch other people run a campaign of dnd - like Critical Role, which a lot of people have at least heard of - HIGHLY recommend Dimension 20, as I find it incredibly funny and easier to get into than CR because of the episode lengths), and I knew that I really liked the silliness and theatricality of the bard class. I also loved the bards from The Owl House which helped influence my decision as well.

To be honest, Birdie is my first ever dnd character, so she's basically a self insert but with a MUCH more traumatic backstory than me (this IS dnd after all). As for the half-elf aspect, it was more of an "I want to be half mermaid, what's similar to that?" as opposed to a love for half-elves or something.

BACK TO BALDUR'S GATE - knowing I wanted Birdie to be in the game, I felt a lot less overwhelmed to come up with something entirely new - I knew a lot about the bard class having played one so I wanted to CONTINUE playing one (and I've learned even more since playing bg3!).

When I finally got my own game (I no longer play at my friend's house, but in the comfort of my own home), I recreated Birdie and started on my journey in earnest. I'm VERY MUCH someone who likes to be in control and know what to expect, so I've had guides and walkthroughs to help me the whole time - SUE ME! When it came to first meeting Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion back at my friend's house, Gale actually immediately stole my heart - a kind, witty wizard who likes books and cats? Literally say less. I went home from that session with my friend fully thinking I'd be a Gale girlie until I really looked into the other options and saw The Vampire.

Blah blah blah, he's hot and funny, but he can also be incredibly soft, which really won me over in the end. So I've been romancing That Guy.

Through Acts 1 and 2, I wasn't all too sure about this version of Birdie's background - sure she COULD still be that half-siren from the arctic, but the game kept suggesting she was FROM Baldur's Gate. I LOVED the inclusion of the harpies in Act 1 and thought maybe that was a viable entry point for her backstory, but so far, she was kind of just... me? She was making the choices I wanted to make (and a few that I knew Astarion would like lmao), but she wasn't really her own entity apart from me except for her name. She also felt vastly different from that character I'd created for my friends over a year ago. For instance, my irl Birdie currently has a crush on a Gale-type character, but this Birdie is ass deep in Astarion (hey, sorry I said "ass deep in Astarion"). The thing I love about Baldur's Gate 3 is how you can really come up with your own backstories, since the in-game one for your Tav is so vague. It's totally fine to ignore tiny details in the game and mold them to your own headcanons for your Tav, but I was so unsure of what I wanted for this Birdie that I kind of internalized that she was from Baldur's Gate.

HEADS UP! The following has some spoilers for Act 3 and some side quests, so STOP reading if that's something you'd care to avoid (the last 3 paragraphs of this post are SAFE from spoilers):

When Act 3 finally rolled around (which is where I am currently, I only have the one playthrough so far because I become INCREDIBLY attached to things), I stumbled across the Water Queen's House in Baldur's Gate. Ah ha! Now this felt promising.

A temple dedicated to the Vengeful Sea Goddess, Umberlee, and her loyal Wave Servants to serve her. It's ocean themed, it has mermaid undertones, and their goddess is basically evil. Seems like the perfect place to FINALLY insert this version of Birdie. I wasn't 100% sure until I completed the Iron Throne mission and was faced with either handing a (mostly) innocent man over to the Wave Servants, or fighting to defend him.

Here are a few of the slides from this week's powerpoint that I mentioned all the way back at the start, starting with SOME background on the Wave Servants:

Ass and Shart are what I affectionately call Astarion and Shadowheart (Also I got this beautiful "Birdie" art on Pinterest which originated from someone named Dantrelium on Reddit):

Apologies for the small text here, but there are some more details about THIS Birdie here, which I literally made up/figured out earlier this week:

Essentially, this Birdie was born at the Water Queen's House as Kittiwake Crest - Kittiwakes are common arctic birds, which I thought would be a nice little homage to the original character she was based off of. She was raised by the collective of Wave Servants there, the main one being Flood Tide Allandra Grey who seems to be head honcho at the Wave Mother's House (in this reality, she is).

Since Umberlee is such a vengeful goddess, I imagine she asked her Wave Servants to commit unspeakable acts in her name, mainly drownings, which THEY see as merciful, but I think Birdie always saw as horrifying. Who were they to decide the fates of others? I also think that the Wave Servants themselves were abusive during her upbringing to keep her in line (but much like how Nocturne was a light in the darkness for Shadowheart, I don't think EVERY Wave Servant was evil). GOTTA have a classic tragic backstory.

Upon researching Umberlee, I learned that most of her servants are clerics, so in my mind, that means Birdie was raised to eventually become one, with her official title eventually going to be "Seawind Kittiwake Crest." Is she still half-siren/mermaid though? Not entirely sure. This IS a magical world though, so I'd be inclined to say yes, probably.

But when we first meet the Wave Servants, they're singing beautifully for their drowned sister, Holli. I think Birdie REALLY loved music and singing with her sisters and secretly trained herself in bard magic when she should have been learning to be a cleric. It's also a classic trait of bards to hide their pain through humor, so I often imagine the type of stupid things Birdie gets up to to bring herself joy (my favorite headcanon being when you meet Skittle the Rat in Wyrm's Rock prison - he's a rat merchant who speaks exclusively in puns. I think Birdie and Gale would excitedly throw puns back and forth with Skittle while Astarion and Shadowheart begrudgingly (and affectionately) roll their eyes in the background).

Another thing I love about the game is how you can string together your own ideas of how companions react to things between big cut scenes. For example, in my head, in my game, Astarion has really become a Big Softy thanks to how fucking Stupid (affectionate) Birdie acts in life and has drawn him out of his shell, but also runs a tag team scam with her where she plays her lute to distract people while he loots an entire place. Gale is Birdie's partner in crime when it comes to tomfoolery and loves to joke and fool around with her (so long as it goes easy on his knees). And Shadowheart is basically a sister figure who flip flops between sassing with Astarion and joining in on the fun. THEY'RE JUST THE BEST, OKAY? OF COURSE I'M GONNA WALK AROUND WITH A BUNCH OF IDIOTS. I LOVE THEM.

Anyway, back to Birdie's backstory: she always hated the atrocities that were asked of her, and she was looking for a way out, but was too scared to take that step and leave since the Wave Mother's House is all she's ever known. One night, while stepping out to quietly dip her toes in the water, the Mindflayers captured her, and that's where we start Act One, all the way up on the Nautiloid. She changed her name to Birdie to distance herself from her previous life, fully took up the bard class, and the rest is history.

Back to that dilemma with handing over that (mostly) innocent guy or fighting the Wave Servants: with encouragement from the party, they convince Birdie to face her traumatic upbringing and fight the Wave Servants once and for all. At this point in Act 3, she's basically helped every single person with their problems except her own. Here's another slide featuring Ass and Birdie:

That's right folks, Birdie faced her past! But the bad news is we don't get to see Astarion in this (audio from The Adventurous Adventures of One Direction):

(Video description - Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 wearing the Wave Mother's Armor with the following audio:

Guard 1: Whoa, check it out.

Guard 2: Hubba hubba hubba.

Gaurd 1: Nice. I love dudes in skirts.

END VIDEO.) I don't want to tell you how many times I recorded that until I felt like I got it right lol. Also yes, I DID do a scum save where I handed the guy over ONCE just so I could see Ass in this outfit, but Birdie did canonically save Redhammer in my actual save file.

And honestly, that's BASICALLY it for now! My most recent save was after that battle, so I need to figure out if Birdie's going to go back with her party to confront the rest of (or most of) the Wave Servants, or if this chapter of her life is closed.

In an ideal world I'd LOVE to make one of those artsy gif edits of my Tav like this and this, but PS5s make it hard to download clips without uploading them to YouTube first which I don't really want to do.

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask, I had a blast writing it!! Sorry it's so long, I just love this game so much and LOVE talking about it. Please feel free to ask more questions OR chat with me about YOUR Tav! I'd love to hear all about them :)

#did this take me 3 hours to put together? and have i reread it a billion times? yeah and also yeah #i have a hard time being articulate/coherent so i tend to over explain things - whoops! #riddlerosehearts #answered #thanks for the ask! #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #shadowheart #my ocs #birdie harp #emma blabs #bg3 spoilers #dungeons and dragons #long post #mine #my posts #love them #great game #no but seriously thanks so much for this ask #i was having an irritating day and this brightened it significantly #:) #you're the best! #my mutuals

[karalynlovescake]

He would NOT say that

“My darling,” said Dream, leaning forward to brush his lips against Hob’s, “I have wanted to jump your bones since 1389.”

Hob pulled away and put his hands on the lovely thin shoulders in front of him.

“No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

“But-” said Dream.

“He would not say that. This is ridiculous.”

The shape in front of Hob shifted, melting into something different, glittering and shimmering with pastel colors. The face was now feminine, impish and close to tears.

“But that line works on all the dreamers!”

Hob sighed, and looking around to find that a sofa had manifested itself in the background. He sat down on it while the dream creature in front of him sat on the floor miserably.

“Yeah and if you’d been trying to be almost anyone else it would have worked on me too. I don’t know why you’d try to be Dream.”

The dream on the floor muttered something.

“I’m sorry, what?” said Hob.

“We’re under orders not to be anyone else,” she said.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Hob sighed. He rubbed his hands on his face. “Ok, well let’s see if your boss managed to teach me how to do this correctly.”

Hob stood up and concentrated.

“This dream is over.”

***

Hob didn’t see Dream in the waking world until almost a week later. It had been busy for both of them, Hob dealing with midterms and grad students changing topics at the last moment, the requests for office hours never seeming to end. And Morpheus had been inundated with requests for audiences from realms Hob had never even heard of and had stopped trying to keep track of. They met up at the New Inn on a Thursday evening, sitting at Hob’s usual table.

“Dream,” Hob said, after their second glass of wine. “Would you mind explaining to me why you have instructed your subjects to impersonate you in my sex dreams?”

Morpheus scowled slightly.

“Which one of them told you?”

“I’m not going to tell you, you’ll just have to look it up in my book yourself, which I know you’d do anyway. That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?” Dream said casually, stroking Hob’s wrist in a way that made his pulse race.  “You know I am a jealous lover. And I have not always been able to attend to you myself as of late.”

Hob sputtered.

“What, and it can’t wait a few days or weeks until you’ve got an opening in your extremely busy schedule? Make it a quickie or something if it’s that big of a deal.”

“There is a very particular schedule for those dreams.”

“Then don’t send them at all, I don’t care if I have fewer sex dreams for pity’s sake.”

“Hob Gadling, erotic dreams are an important part of a healthy psychological profile in most humans. Will you tell me my own business?”

“I will tell you that it’s really fucking weird that you apparently have such a strict schedule for these things that if you’re busy you send in one of your employees to fuck your boyfriend for you.” He paused. “Is there a porn film with that plotline yet?”

Dream sighed theatrically. “There are currently at least seventeen pornographic films with that plotline in the Library archives.”

“Fantastic you pick the best one for our next Library date night.”

#Dreamling #Read one too many excellent He Would Not Say That posts and this happened #There's a bit more than this but I can't tell if it's funny or if it's just me #I have a weird sense of humor