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wardenparker · 5 months

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Next to Normal, part 2

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing, food. References to reader's past, trauma responses, Joel being the absolute softest and most gentle partner. Emotional vulnerability. Mutual nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Summary: In the months since you started your relationship with Joel, he has never pushed you for more. But Ellie thinks it's time to take the next step. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any typos that I might have missed. Ya girl is sleepy and there's a lot going on in life these days. This story was only going to be a one shot. And then it was juuuust going to be a two-parter. Well...this is part two of three. Stay tuned next week for the conclusion!

Read part 1 here!

Ellie fidgets at the table, frowning at the plate of breakfast that Joel put in front of her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she’s thinking hard about how to approach her question. It seems straightforward to her, but she’s learned in the last several months that he is touchy when you are the subject of conversation. He’s always in protection mode when it comes to you. She picks up a piece of unevenly toasted bread and frowns at it like it’s offended her until her eyes track back to Joel. “Are you gonna ask her to live with us?” She asks finally, knowing she doesn’t have to clarify who she means.

Joel stops with his fork halfway to his mouth, his own eggs nearly falling off as he stares at Ellie. “Why? What do you— has she—” he stops and drops the fork. “Why?” He wonders if you’ve dropped hint or if this is just the girl’s curiosity.

“That’s…what you’re supposed to do right? Like…old people style courtship?” She doesn’t really know what adult dating entails except that Joel seems to be spending every second of free time with you, and she likes you. You’re fun to have around and a lot easier to talk to than Joel or Tommy about some of the shit that she’s dealing with. “She hasn’t said anything. I just wondered.”

“Sometimes.” Joel admits, picking up his fork again and looking back down at his plate. “What do you think about that?” He tries to keep it casual, in untested waters dealing with this. He had never really dated while Sarah was young, too busy trying to keep everything together.

“She’s nice.” Ellie says, as though it was the easiest thing in the world. “And…we can trust her. That’s a hell of a lot better than some other people in this town.” In general she likes Jackson, but people are people and not everyone is trustworthy. Ellie knows that better than most. “Would you, like…marry her? Like Tommy and Maria?”

“I don’t know if she would ever want to get married.” Joel hasn’t discussed any of your past with Ellie, so she might not be aware of some of your hangups. He’s not ever even mentioned marriage just in case it might have been one of them. Not like he was a wedding vows kind of man himself. “I would. If she wanted to.”

“But you’re not gonna ask.” Ellie nods vaguely, not quite understanding why anybody bothers to get married anymore anyway. It seems like one of those things that doesn’t make sense in this world. A relic. “So…” The only part of it that still matters is safety, and the emotion behind all of it. “She could be here with us all the time, and I’d pretend like I don’t hear you doing stuff and that’s it? Like…” Her eyes tick up to Joel’s with rivers of curiosity in them. “Like a family?”

Joel snorts, amused at that comment because beyond kissing, doing stuff hadn’t happened. “Kind of like that. If she did, she would have say over what happens here.” He cautions. “Another adult to ‘ruin your life’.” He had rolled his eyes and laughed the first time she had come out with that statement. A true measure of a teenager, even in the shithole state the world was in, Joel could ruin her life.

“She’s better at it than you,” Ellie announces immediately, tongue stuck out as far as it will go. She doesn’t want to admit that you’re the one she goes to for advice most often now. Not him, not Maria, and definitely not Tommy. She goes to you, and you always answer her honestly.

“Ruining your life?” He lifts a brow and hums. “Maybe I need to ask her for tips then.” He’s joking, but it’s nice to see that she has found a mother-like figure in you.

“She’s better at advice.” The teen clarifies, not wanting Joel to think you’ve done anything wrong. “I mean…I’m not gonna ask you about girl stuff.”

Joel snorts and shoots her a grin. “Why not? I love everything about women.”

“But you aren’t one.” The exaggerated roll of her eyes calls him an idiot and she huffs. “Whatever. You should ask your girlfriend to live with us. That’s all I was saying.”

“Yeah?” He hums and shrugs. “I’ll see what she thinks. She can sew here, she does often enough.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles simply, as if she didn’t just suggest an enormous change to both of their lives as casually as commenting on the color of the sky. Ellie finishes her breakfast in three bites and pushes back from the table abruptly. “School,” she adds, before grabbing her supplies from the counter nearby.

Joel watches as she bolts out the door. Since it’s not a FEDRA school, Ellie has actually been enjoying going each day. Picking up his coffee, he shakes his head. It’s Chicory but it’s better than nothing. Expecting you in a few minutes, he finishes his breakfast in peace with your own plate still warm on the stove.

The soft knock at the door comes just minutes later, and you crack the door open to slip inside without letting any heat out. The typical place for your sewing is in a large canvas bag unless it's a delicate project, so you can move it between your house or Joel's without effort. All those years of making costumes by hand for plays and parties has truly paid off. "Joel?" The smell of breakfast is welcome and comforting, and you peak around the corner to find him sitting at the table. "I just passed Ellie on her way to school. Seemed like she was in a good mood."

He chuckles and stands up, ready to pour you a cup of the coffee that is still simmering in the percolator. “She should be.” He snorts. “Christmas is coming early, apparently.”

"Or very late, depending on how you view it." Now that spring is here and the winter is solidly behind you, Jackson is flourishing again. It seems to be affecting everyone, including Ellie. A soft murmur of thanks comes with accepting the cup of coffee he has made – Joel's is far better tasting than your attempts ever were – but you set it down on the table to step closer to him with a smile. "Good morning kiss?"

“Of course.” When you ask him for a kiss, or to hold you, he’s never turned you down. Nearly in disbelief that you are so affectionate despite the past years. He steps towards you slowly and bites his lip. “Can I hold onto your hips, beautiful girl?” Sometimes you want him to and other times you would rather he not, so he still asks where you want his hands.

"Yes, please." You're feeling brave today, maybe reinvigorated by the spring just like Ellie is, and you nod as you step closer to him so he can hold you close. Maybe it's the spring, or maybe it's months of Joel always calling you his beautiful girl finally starting to sink in. You never thought anyone could think of you that way ever again, but it seems so easy with him.

He hums softly, licking his lips and shuffling closer. You are the one who moves quickly when you feel like it, but he still treats you delicately. Not because he is afraid you will shatter, but because you deserve it.

His short hair is always the perfect place for your fingers, and your arms come up around his shoulders so you can play with the hairs on the back of his neck when he leans in. These morning moments are your favourite, if you're honest. The bright sunlight and birdsong make it seem like a romantic little cottage scene, and it makes you wish that you had had the courage in the colder months to suggest that he sleep over. Or that you sleep over his place. Even just to sleep side by side would be wonderful, but you try to be cognizant of not changing things too much on Ellie all at once.

His lips are much softer since he’s been kissing you. Not as dry. Tommy rags on him, making him roll his eyes, but he would never admit that he does put a little oil on them at night to keep them from chapping and cracking when it’s his turn to stand watch at the gates.

The domesticity of the whole thing is appealing in ways that harken back to the feeling of near normalcy that Joel gives you, and you’re smiling when you finally force yourself to lean back from kissing him. “Busy day? Or do I have you to myself until Ellie gets home?”

“Nahh.” He shakes his head. “Mud’s too thick to try to set more posts, so we are waiting for it to dry in the southern area of the community garden.” He tells you. “Since I had to pull watch last night, I’m off for the next day or so.”

“It wasn’t too bad, I hope?” Overnights are tough just for the sake of a sleep schedule, but you know Joel’s shift ended at dawn and it’s a fair few hours past that now. “Did you get a nap in?”

“Not yet.” He hadn’t wanted to sleep while you were over. Not when he could spend time with you. “I will when I get tired.” He promises.

“I would have waited until after lunch to come over.” You pout at him, rather viciously, but aren’t really upset. You just don’t want Joel tiring himself out for you.

“And I wouldn’t have slept then, either.” He grumbles at you and motions towards the stove. “Eaten yet? I made you a plate.”

“Thank you.” Though you couldn’t put a finger on when it became tradition to eat breakfast together, it has certainly become a mainstay. “I brought over a few things that I’m mending for Maria, so I have plenty of work to keep me busy.” Or not is the unspoken follow up. There are definitely days that you spend entirely wrapped up in Joel.

“That’s good.” Joel nods as he motions you towards the table and brings the still warm plate over with a small hiss when it burns one of his fingers. “It’s hot.”

“Careful!” Though how he can feel anything through those callouses on his hand, you just don’t know. “Don’t need you burning your fingers off over a plate of eggs.”

He rolls his eyes and sits down beside you with a groan. “Eat.” He tells you, pointing to the food. “Pretty sure you skipped dinner last night.”

“Not intentionally.” There had been a call for anyone available to come help out with chasing some escaped animals up on the pasture north of town last night and you had gone out to help without hesitation. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course I’m going to look after you.” He huffs off your thanks and sits back down with you, his own refreshed coffee in hand. “Ellie wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” That has you stopping with your fork halfway to your mouth. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s good.” He quickly reassures you, frowning because he hadn’t meant to worry you. He doesn’t like the scared look in your eyes, like you’re about to be punished for some imaginary wrong. “All good, I think.”

“Okay.” Dropping the tension from your shoulders is automatic — you didn’t even realize you had seized up until you were relaxing again. “What’s going on?”

“Not sayin’ we’re doin’ this, or that we gotta—” Joel reassures you to start with, knowing that you might not think that it’s a question. “But Ellie was asking me about the future, me and you.”

“We haven’t really talked about it.” For the simple reason that in this world, the future can never be determined. There’s usually no point in betting on a horse if you don’t know it will even finish the race, so a lot of people — you and Joel included — have chosen to remain undefined. Other people, people like Tommy and Maria, have held onto the old relationship conventions as a comfort in an ever changing world.

“No, we haven’t.” Joel admits. “But maybe we should. She – and me too – we were wonderin’ if maybe it’s not a bit silly that we’re trackin’ back and forth between your place and ours.”

“It’s not too much trouble, is it?” The ice cold fear in your heart is instant, and even though he had said that nothing was wrong, you can’t help the feeling of doomed certainty that the inevitable end has been reached in this otherwise happy arrangement. It was bound to come, sooner or later. Or, at least, you’ve feared that it would.

“No,” he can see that you’re still worried and he offers you his hand. Silently asking permission to hold yours and he squeezes yours gently when you slip onto into his. “We were thinkin’ that maybe you could just— live with us?” He ventures softly. “I wouldn’t— you don’t have to worry about me expectin’ anything more—” he promises quickly. “Maybe we could just, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed? If you don’t want that, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Joel…” It isn’t a great commendation of strength on your part that you start to tear up immediately, but it’s an honest reaction if there ever was one. You squeeze his hand tightly in yours for the half-second it takes you to move out of your chair and to his side. “Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course you can.” The fact that you ask him is probably due to him asking you. Or needing to make sure you won’t get in trouble on some subconscious level, but he easily stands and holds his arms open.

The crush of how hard you push into his arms to hug him exactly as tightly as you can gets a small oof out of him, but his arms come around you just as securely. “I’ve been trying to think of how to bring it up for weeks,” you admit quietly, feeling silly about that now that he’s broken the topic himself. “About… sleeping together, I mean…”

“Oh.” He’s not sure if you mean sleeping together or sleeping together, but he doesn’t ask. “You should have said something, beautiful girl.” He murmurs quietly into your neck, enjoying the way that you curl into him.

“I wasn’t sure how.” Joel is the only person you’ve been able to be completely candid with about your fears and anxieties, and if anything it has only made him more protective. But really? You don’t mind that. “But I’m feeling braver.”

“Do you like the idea?” He asks softly. “I know you have your own space and are used to it, but we can share ours. Ellie loves the idea, so no teenage pushback.”

“I had considered asking you to move in to mine,” you admit, overwhelmed tears turning to happy in an instant. “But I didn’t want to displace Ellie.”

“If you want that, we can see what she thinks.” Joel immediately offers. “But I think our place is a little bigger. And yours is closer to everything.”

“Bigger is better.” You can agree to that right away. The room you could give Ellie in your own house is too small to be comfortable. “I don’t mind being a little further away from town if I get to be with you.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles slightly at the comment and nods. “Okay. Well, we’ll get you moved over here as soon as you want.” He knows you will bring your supplies so he nods towards the little nook off the living room. “Thinkin’ that could be your little shop, unless you need more room?”

“I think it should work.” The little reading nook off of the living room has space for a chair and a desk, and even a small closet built into the wall of the house that has shelves for your supplies. “If you don’t mind sacrificing the space, I think it might actually be perfect.”

“Was thinkin’ I could make you some organizers for your cloth and threads and such.” He tells you, leaning into the idea. “The bookshelves would be good for that.”

“You’ll spoil me if you do that.” It sounds wonderful, and you prop your chin on his chest to look up at him. “But I’ll spoil you with cooking if you let me.”

“I’ll get working on them today.” He promises with a grin. His cooking is okay, but yours is amazing.

“And I’ll make us a celebratory supper.” It’s the least you can do, really, but the smile on your face is bright and wide.

“Yeah?” He grins at the idea and nods. “Do you wanna start moving stuff over? I can get Tommy to help.”

“That would be a heck of a surprise for Ellie.” And you laugh a little at the idea, enjoying the ease of it. “Leave for school just having posed the question, and come home from school to find me moved in.”

“Up to you.” Joel chuckles. “She likes the idea of a family.” He wants you to know that, that the girl wants you here with them.

"I know she isn't technically either of ours." You shrug slightly, not wanting to specifically bring up the children that both you and Joel have lost. "But sometimes it feels like it."

“We worry enough about her. Annoy her enough.” He frowns slightly. “Sometimes family isn’t always blood, but the people you wish were blood.”

"Family can be the people that you adopt along the way. Or the people who adopt you. It works both ways." The two of you sit back down again, hands twined together at the table as you slowly work your way through the modest breakfast that Joel made you. "After this I'll go back to my house and pack some things up while you go see if Tommy is able to help?"

“Sounds good.” He clears his throat and bites his lip. “I don’t expect you to do any more than we’ve established you’re good with.” He reminds you quietly. “I’m gonna knock before coming into the bedroom. In case you’re, uh, changing or something.”

"I can change in the bathroom," you assure him, putting down your fork to concentrate on the far more important conversation at hand. "Or...maybe it's time we crossed that bridge. Maybe not all the way to the other side, but...we could put off a little of the moving to have...private time? Before Ellie comes home from school?" Reminding yourself that you have been feeling braver lately is the key. Joel has proven endlessly that you are safe with him, and never once given you reason to doubt it.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks seriously. He doesn’t want you to think you have to push yourself into something you aren’t ready for because of where you will sleep at night.

"I want it, and I want to be ready for that step." Wanting is the key. Or at least you hope it is. "And I hope I know you well enough to think that you won't be upset if we reach a point that I'm not comfortable with."

“You just say the word and I’ll stop, beautiful girl.” Joel can easily promise you that. “If that’s what you’re wanting, then I guess you better finish your breakfast.”

As nerve wracking as taking that next step is, you do want to. Letting fear rule your life helps no one, and reclaiming your own strength through large and small steps is something that Joel has really helped you with. Nothing says that today has to be the day that you throw off every worry, but as you finish your breakfast you do feel absolutely certain that the decision to put one proverbial foot in front of the other and move toward intimacy with the man you’ve genuinely fallen in love with.

He lets you think about it quietly, taking his own plate and coffee cup over to the sink to start on the dishes. Knowing that despite what you might say, you could change your mind before you even finish your meal. That's okay with him. He's never pushed you, even when he's straining under his jeans and has to take himself in hand when he gets home after leaving you. He would still never push, not with something like this.

He doesn’t let you do your own dishes when you’re done eating, but he never does. Joel has deeply ingrained caretaking tendencies even if he doesn’t like to admit it. “We should…go upstairs,” you murmur, leaning against the kitchen counter beside him. “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Joel watches you for a moment and then nodes carefully. “We can. Do you— uh, want me to give you a minute?” He asks, unsure of what you want and how far you want this to go. “Let you…get ready?”

“I’d rather have you next to me.” His presence is, after all, what makes you feel safest. For this next step you’ll need that more than ever.

“Okay.” Reaching out, he offers you his hand with a reassuring nod. “You are in charge here.” He reminds you.

“I don’t really have any expectations for this except that we’ll lay in bed together and have some privacy.” But you can now fully admit that you hope to have the courage for more. “Let’s just…start there and see what happens?”

“That sounds good to me.” He guides you towards the stairs and lets go of your hand so he can let you go up in front of him. “We’ll take it nice and slow.”

The last time you were this nervous about being in a bad with a boyfriend was probably losing your virginity in high school, but there is a hell of a lot more emotional weight involved this morning than there was then. Joel means more to you than any of the others ever did, and that just makes you want this to go well even more. At the top of the stairs he’s beside you again and you slip your hand into his.

The walk to the bedroom doesn’t take long, the door open and his bed still rumpled. He’s never been a make the bed kind of guy and he bites his lip a little sheepishly. “Didn’t think you’d be up here.” He admits with a rueful grin. “Would have at least tossed the comforter over everything.”

“I like it better knowing the real you.” Your hand in his slips around his waist to keep him close.

Joel hums and walks towards it and then pauses a few feet from it. “Do you want to lay down with me, beautiful girl?”

“I feel like I should at least take my sweater off first.” The t-shirt you have on underneath it is typically worn but comfortable, and you find that today stripping off your warm sweater feels like taking off a lot more clothes than it really is.

Joel takes off his boots, but he leaves everything else on. It’s just a t-shirt and a flannel with his jeans. “Make sure you’re comfortable. What side of the bed do you like?” He’s a middle of the bed sleeper, so wherever you want is fine with him. He’ll adjust.

“The left, usually.” Being boxed in doesn’t feel particularly good to you, for obvious reasons. That doesn’t matter right now though, and you take off your own boots to leave to the side with Joel’s, socks stuffed neatly inside. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He nods and motions to the bed. “Test it out. See if you like yours better.” If you do, he will drag that damn thing down here.

You won’t, you know that, but getting into Joel’s bed with him is a surprisingly emotional moment. Without any extra preamble — only because you’re restraining yourself from babbling out of nerves — you slide under the rumpled covers and inhale a breath of the scent that is purely his. It’s infinitely relaxing, and you close your eyes for a second to revel in how right it feels. Fear has made you think it might be awkward, but no. You’re supposed to be next to Joel. This is where you belong.

Joel is slightly tense beside you. Not wanting to jostle you too much, but he clears his throat. “I’m going to put my arm behind your head. Is that okay?”

“Let’s…” looking between you, you know that Joel asks about every single action to be courteous. To be cautious, even. And while you don’t mind being delicate to him, this might be a chance to start moving past some of that hesitance. For you, too. “Let’s just say we’re going to get comfortable?” You suggest. “Asking about every single movement…it’s going to make this harder than it needs to be. So…it’s okay with me that you touch wherever you need to while we figure this out. This…how to be comfortable together.”

He huffs out a small laugh at himself and nods. “If you don’t like something, you tell me, you got me?” He tells you, raising his brows seriously. “This bed, it’s gonna be your refuge, not your prison.”

“Okay.” Nodding, you slide closer to him under the blanket and move your arm so he can slide his under your pillow if he wants to. “I’m sorry if this is awkward…”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Joel chides softly, used to hearing that when you want to pull back. “We’re just getting comfortable, that’s all.” His hand settles on your arm and he strokes his fingers over your skin lightly. “We got all the time in the world.”

Shifting even closer, you tuck yourself into his side and sigh at the bulk of him. It really is something primal in the way it relaxes you, having that broad frame of his nearby but never threatening. Sliding your arm around his waist is easy like this, and you press yourself into him comfortably. “Kinda wish I’d gotten brave enough for this ages ago,” you admit quietly.

“It’s okay, beautiful girl.” He promises, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back as you start to slowly cover half his body with your own. He pauses for just a moment before his hand ventures very sedately past the small of your back and over the swell of your butt. Giving you time to tell him no if you wanted.

Instead of hesitating it actually makes you grin, the slow and careful way that he reaches forward. Feeling admittedly cheeky, you shift your hips to wiggle your ass under his tentative fingers and end up smiling again. "It's okay, handsome," you assure him, giving him the permission that he's silently seeking. "Go ahead."

Joel groans and cups your ass firmly. “You have a great ass.” He growls softly. “Thought so from the beginning.”

"The beginning, huh?" It's something of a relief to find out that Joel was just as interested in you as you were in him early on. The first time he'd admitted it, you had literally sighed. There was a breath then, like there is now, that you didn't realize you had been holding. "I'm glad you like it."

He smirks slightly and moves to caress your ass like he had your back. “When you’re feelin’ up to it, my lips are lonely.” He teases, puckering them slightly.

It's small, and it's teasing, but it lifts so much of the tension in the room that you actually laugh and move in a little more with eagerness. If there's one undeniable truth about Joel Miller it's that he's a fantastic kisser, and you're not one to give that up when it's being offered. Especially not right now. Not when your time alone with him is both assured and indulgent.

Your lips aren’t hesitant this time. They are sure and still curved into a smile when you press them to his. Making his own laugh into your mouth that much sweeter. He wanted this to light, there’s so much heaviness in your lives, this should be as light as it can. Especially with your past. Taking the moment for the simplicity that it is.

There's something different about the taste of him this morning, like kissing Joel is somehow sweeter for the pure and simple reason that you're in bed together and nothing else. Your hand creeps up his arm and around his shoulder so your fingers can find their way into his hair, and the bubbly, joyous feeling in your chest bubbles over when you summon the courage to be the one to run your tongue along his lower lip in an open mouthed kiss. It's probably bolder than you've ever done before but the rightness of this feeling just can't be overstated.

Humming in surprise, Joel settles back slightly and lets you take charge of your kiss. Waiting to see if you would slide your tongue into his mouth or if you will leave it at just opened mouth to breath into each other. His hand squeezes your ass gently, encouraging you to do whatever you want and immediately goes back to caressing like it had before.

His hand feels huge like this, but not in an overwhelming way. In a way that makes you feel precious and...unexpectedly...a little worshipped. Up here in this bedroom nothing can hurt you, and that is another step forward in this sort of emboldening feeling that is brewing inside you. It's that burst of boldness that has you pushing into his side just a little bit more, tongue sliding into his mouth to relearn that part of him that you have explored only a handful of times before.

Joel grunts, his cock twitching and starting to harden in his pants, but he ignores it. Focusing on you as he continues to kiss you and caress you. Enjoying how you are unfurling for him.

The heat that rolls off of him in waves is intoxicating, making your head swim like it does whenever the two of you let the urge take over. It isn’t often, but it’s always good, and this morning feels even better.

The kisses are slow, languid. Pretending that time doesn't exist and every breath shared between you is suspended. He feels the way you are slowly starting to grinding on him, his thigh between yours.

Shallow, short, panting breaths are all the two of you can manage. Some gulps of air and soft, muffled moans. The floods your mind and your instincts and for the first time in over a year pleasure is what overtakes every thought, not fear.

He watches you, your eyes closed and your finger tight in his hair. Not because you are afraid, but because you are wanting more. He groans into your mouth and his hands settle on your hips, encouraging you to move if you want to with a small nudge.

It's like your mind has gone blank of everything except him, and the bliss of it is that you finally can let it go blank. The only thing you even need to know about in the world is Joel, and he is right here beside you. Half underneath you, technically. He not only wants you here with him but is actively devouring you at the same rate you are devouring him, and the freedom is nearly electric. Rocking hips have a mind of their own, and it really does take longer than you're proud of to realize that you're evening doing it. Catching yourself, you barely manage to pull back and force yourself to look Joel in the eyes through hazy vision. "Is...I didn't ask...if it's okay?"

“It’s always okay, beautiful girl.” Joel’s voice is rough, lust filled. “Whatever you want, you just do it to me.”

“I—I don’t really know what I want,” you admit, trying to catch your breathe and keep your entire body from setting on fire in his arms, but not succeeding very well. “Except…more.”

“You could let me— unbutton you jeans?” He asks as he nudges his nose against your pulse. “Use my fingers to make you feel good?”

It would be a lie to claim you hadn’t imagined what it would feel like. That you hadn’t actually dreamt about how pleasurable time with Joel would play out. While this isn’t quite like any of the scenarios you had dreamt up, it is real and it is happening right now, and you nod fiercely before pushing in again to kiss him with every ounce of courage built up inside you.

He knows this is a big step for you and he doesn’t rush it. Kissing you back while he slowly pulls his hand around your back to the front of your jeans. Pausing for a second to wait for any protest before he flicks the button open and leisurely pulls down your zipper.

He gets no protests at all, but a deep sigh bordering a moan that comes out of you with that deceptively small act of opening your pants. Your free hand slides just under the hem of his shirt, hot skin burning your fingers at first contact but only in the very best way.

“Tell me if you don’t like something,” he reminds you softly when his fingers first dip below the threadbare elastic band of your panties. “Only want you to feel good.”

Any flash of discomfort, even a small one, is too much and you lean back to find Joel’s dark eyes watching you. “Let me just take them off?” You ask quietly, not wanting to verbalize the fact that the fight pull of fabric against your skin hits a memory you don’t want to relive. As exposing as it is, naked is better.

“Whatever you want.” His hand eases out of your panties and he lays back, showing you that he’s not going to keep on.

“I want you.” The clarification is important, even as you slip off your jeans and underwear, letting them fall off the side of the bed in irrelevance. Shirt and bra are next, and even the act of shedding your own clothing — making your own choice to do this — frees another layer of fear from your shoulders. “I don’t want fear to be in the way of I can help it.”

“Do you want me to strip down?” Joel asks, wondering if you won’t like him being clothed and you naked. “How do you want me, beautiful girl?”

“How ever you’re comfortable.” Just because you stripped down does not mean that he has to. The state of your relation as always been respect and not reciprocity.

He decides that he wants to strip down too. He knows he’s not going to do anything that will make him cum, but if you’re going to live here, you should be comfortable with him.

It definitely more than you ever expected to happen today, but as Joel sheds his clothes beside you, there’s also a sense of peace in it. Reclaiming intimacy — not even sex, just intimacy and closeness — is like relieving an enormous burden that you aren’t ever sure could be lifted.

When he reaches the tired, worn out boxer briefs he is wearing, the outline of his hard cock clearly showing, he hesitates. “Would you like me to leave these on?”

A fair question, and though you hesitate for a moment, you decide firmly on, “No.” This decision to move forward together is too important to you, and it’s not as if you aren’t attracted to him. You have eyes, after all. “If you’re okay with it, I…I want to see you. Maybe…touch you?”

He groans quietly, nodding as he hooks his fingers into the band. “You can touch me wherever you want.” He promises.

He has never protested once about waiting for you to be ready. Never pressed and never pushed. Now you only hope that you won’t disappoint him when you’re actually ready to take the next step. “You can touch me, too.”

“My daddy was never good for much.” Joel starts as he slides his hands down, bringing the boxers with him. Grunting as he bends over to steps out of them. “But he taught me something that’s stuck with me.” Standing up, he looks you in your eyes. “It was about holdin’ a gun, but I guess it’s the same with holdin’ a woman.” He tells you. “Hold her like you love her. Slow and gentle, steady. That’s what I aim to do with you.”

“I—I do love you.” He wasn’t trying to get you to say it, or even saying it himself, but sitting up in his bed with a blanket around you instead of clothes…if you can’t say it now, then when can you? “You don’t have to…to say it back or anything. I just—it felt like the right time to say.”

You are sitting down, but he steps closer to you and kneels down, not wanting to tower over you to intimidate. “Baby, you should know that I— I love you.” He murmurs quietly, reaching for your hand. “Everything about you.”

"Get back in bed, Joel." Even with one of his big hands holding on to both of yours, you tug at him slightly to urge him to join you. "I...I really want to be close to you right now."

“Okay.” He groans again as he gets to his feet. “Fuckin’ knees.” He complains quietly. “Too fuckin’ old.”

“No more grand romantic gestures that involve kneeling,” you tease, pulling back the blanket so he can climb in beside you.

“Don’t worry about that.” He chuckles as he slides into the bed. “Probably the cold, but it’s been actin’ up.”

“Still.” Your arms are open to him this time, reminding yourself that there’s no need to hide. “I like you in one piece.”

This time, he is the one that is curling up to you, making sure he doesn’t seem to hover over you just in case. His cock is against your hip and he leans in to kiss you again. “You have me.”

To have it put for you so easily — that he’s yours are much as you are his — makes so much difference. It’s freeing instead of entrapping. Love rather than possession. It makes you melt into his kiss, hands grasping for him rather than being tentative about their touch. Not exactly greedy, but definitely no longer afraid.

It’s almost too easy, the way you eagerly fall into his kiss again. Your determination shining through and his hand lands on your hip again, warm and seeking. “Spread your legs, beautiful girl.” He murmurs against your lips.

It isn’t an order, but an urging that you happily agree to. Laying back on his pillows and letting him come that much closer to you, urging him to lean over your body. It isn’t looming, like he’s afraid it could be. Instead it feels like protection.

He starts at your shoulder, hands deciding they want to touch every inch of skin you will allow him. Lips kissing your chin, your jaw, just behind your ear. “So beautiful for me.” He rasps out. “So soft.”

Joel is full of endless praises, and you’ve caught yourself sometimes wondering if that’s something he does just for you or if it’s an old habit of his that goes back to the time before. It doesn’t truly make a difference, but you’ve wondered. The feeling of his hands everywhere on you could get overwhelming — or you fear that it could — but it’s just Joel. It’s the man who only makes you feel safe and protected and appreciated, and you sink down into the mattress with a sigh when his hand moves down from your shoulder. “Only for you,” you gasp out, his lips pressing the sensitive spot on your next just below your ear.

When his hand cups your breast, he doesn’t squeeze. It’s more of a massage, a gentle caress and he rubs your nipple with his thumb. “That’s my good girl.” He hums. There’s been plenty of times that you’ve gone over phrases or nicknames that might trigger you, so he’s confident that you won’t react negatively.

“Joel.” Things that seemed silly years ago aren’t so silly to you now, and the cooing softness of Joel’s usually deep, rough voice is so soothing as his work-calloused hands slide over your skin. Your far hand is tangled in the blanket as he leans over you, but the other anchors you to him instead. It explores the parts of his body you haven’t touched before — trim waist and strong thighs instead of the soft stomach and broad shoulders that you know so well. “Joel. Joel.” His name is a chant on your lips, growing shallower and lighter each time.

“That’s it.” He encourages, continuing to play with your breast until he feels your thighs press together and shift, wanting friction. “Gonna take care of you.”

It’s a promise, one you want to drown yourself in as much as you want to drown in kissing him. Deciding that you can only really do one of those things, you surge upward to press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, inviting him to devour you, too.

His hand has to nudge your thighs open again after his palm skims over your belly. Caressing it softly and he would say something, but reminding you of your past wouldn’t be right for this moment. Instead, his fingers comb through the soft curls covering you, gently working through them to slick skin underneath.

The deep sigh that emanates from you is almost revolutionary, and for the first time in longer than you care to remember, your eyes slip shut in pleasure to focus solely on the feeling of Joel’s hands on your body. Forgetting where you end and he begins was a seemingly impossible task not so long ago, but now you moan softly and shift your legs open for him even wider like a flower opening up for the sun.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” He moans, cock twitching at your surrender to the pleasure and he loves that you aren’t tensing up. His fingers slide through your folds, gathering the wetness and he starts a slow figure eight around your sex. Curling your entrance and coming back up to slide around your clit through your lips. “Feel good, beautiful girl?”

“So good.” It’s unbelievable just how good but this is part of Joel’s magic. He can just make everything else fade away. Your hips tilt up and you sigh again, sinking further into the mattress. “More, honey? Please?”

“You want my fingers inside you, beautiful girl?” He asks as he kisses down your throat. His mouth waters at the thought of suckling at your tits and he looks up at you to make sure you’re still on the same page. ‘More’ could mean just more of his rubbing your clit.

“Yes. God, please.” Nodding almost frantically, the hand that you had had tangled in his blanket comes up to grasp his shoulder and hold him close so you can kiss him endlessly.

He wants to chuckle at how desperate you sound but he just hums softly. Aware that you are actually starting to enjoy yourself. His fingers make another trip around your clit and this time, he doesn’t circle your entrance, just slowly starts to press, feeling you start to yield.

The soft moan he gets from you almost immediately makes him shiver, but you’re lost to it. Every sensation in your body has narrowed down to Joel’s touch and pushed every other thought out of your mind. Maybe he is that good with his hands or maybe it’s just how much you love him, or maybe it’s both. No matter what it is, it’s floating away with you on a cloud.

Your body doesn’t resist, you aren’t pushing him away. If anything, your hips are rolling down to meet his touch. He groans your name and nuzzles your breast with his cheek, his nose, before he finally wraps his lips around the stiff peak.

That extra burst of sensation makes you moan out loud, back arching off the bed and fingers digging into Joel’s arm to keep him from reeling back or second guessing himself. Close Is where you want him and you’re going to keep him there.

He hisses in pleasure against your breast, drunk on the sight of your eyes closed and lips parted so perfectly as you moan again. He doesn’t stop, just slowly curling his fingers up inside you to search for that pleasure spot.

Each time you moan for him is like a revelation all your own. Your body is doing all of its own talking now, rolling like waves in the ocean and pulled toward Joel’s own body like a magnet. The pull between you is so strong that when he finds your g-spot you keen and moan out his name loud enough that anyone in the house could have easily heard, but you’re too wrapped up in him to care or notice.

“That’s it, beautiful girl? That’s your spot?” He pulls off your breast long enough to crow about finding that place before he is suckling again, his fingers concentrating on that small spot just to hear you keen again.

“I—fuck—yes!” If he had asked if you even have a spot you would have said no, but he’s found it with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Like his intuitive ability to read your body language for emotions, he can read it for your pleasure as well. There’s no doubt in your mind that he could probably pluck you like an instrument of he wanted to but right now all he wants is to hear your pleasure so you do not hold back. The shock of being so vocal is one thing, but for Joel? For Joel you would repeat your yeses and moans and chants of his name for the whole world to hear.

He listens to you, feels you. Wanting to make sure that no old ghosts come between you and your goal. He moans, cock twitching and throbbing against your thigh as he continues to focus on you, ignoring his body’s demands for your own.

It might surprise him even more than it does you, when you reach for him. Your other hand had settled on his hip and was surely squeezing imprints into his flesh, but pleasure has so much taken over your mind that the slide of your hand from his hip to wrapping your fingers experimentally around the thickness of his cock makes both of you gasp.

His eyes close and he can’t help the experimental rock of his hips before he pulls himself back. Reminding himself that he needs to focus on his task.

“It’s okay.” Murmured just as soon as you turn your head, you open your eyes and place lingering kisses on Joel’s jaw. “I want to. Please?”

“Whatever you want.” Joel promises you, his dark eyes on you and alight with passion. “Just let me know what you want.”

“I want to make you feel good, too.” It is the shared aspect of the experience that makes all the difference. That one of you isn’t taking everything from the other, but that you’re sharing the moment together. That’s what makes it an act of passion and love rather than just a sexual encounter. And for you? That makes all the difference.

“You are, beautiful girl.” He promises, his fingers slick and making the most beautiful sounds as they move in and out of you.

As the pair of you devolve back into moans and sighs of each other’s names, the coil of pleasure that tightens in your belly is unmistakable. The experimental strokes of your hand wrapped around his length become surer, pace quickening, your whole body rocketing toward your own end and wanting to take him with you despite knowing that it probably isn’t going to happen that fast. It’s the haze of actual, beautiful, loving pleasure that’s settled over you like a blanket, and it’s what you want more than anything.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel is moaning his encouragement and huffing against your breast. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re on the edge. You gonna cum for me?”

It’s possible you’ve entirely forgotten how to speak with how close you are, and your eyes slip closed again when you nod almost frantically. The moan from your lips is half his name and half incoherent begging, asking for the release that is so literally right at his fingertips. That only he can give you and that you hope past hoping that you can give to him too with each stroke of your fist.

He smirks, “yeah, you are.” He coos, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re gonna cum all in my hand for me.” He can feel the way your body is tensing under him, ready for the perfect moment to break apart in bliss. “My beautiful girl’s gonna cum.”

It is as much permission as you could look for, and your body seems to know it. The bow and bend in your back sharpen as the sound is strangled from your throat, cutting off his name with a desperate cry as you fall apart for his hand.

There’s something breathtaking about the way you cry out. Body quaking and trembling, not in fear, but in rapture.

The world stands still for those few moments. There is nothing at all except bliss, and the bulk of Joel's broad body above you, and the way he twitches in your hand seeming to run in perfect sync with the spasms of your own body as you come down from the clouds.

Joel doesn’t rush you, drawing it out with the slower curl of his fingers than before, kissing up your body before capturing your moans for him greedily with his mouth. Wanting to keep them for himself as he enjoys your orgasm with you.

“Joel.” It’s more of a whisper than a cry this time, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. “Tell me what you want?”

“Touch me.” He begs. “However you want. I want you to just touch me.”

Your hand had fallen away from him to make sure you didn’t squeeze too hard and accidentally hurt him at the peak or your own orgasm. Now you touch your fingers between your thighs to wet them with your own slick and wrap your hand around his cock again, feeling it twitch with the pressure and friction. Every stroke builds on the last, wanting him to feel every bit as good as you do right now.

Your touch, this time so much more sure of itself, makes his eyes fall close and his body rolls onto his back. Your own follows him so you are draped over him like a perfectly warm blanket. “Fuck, fuck, you are so— so fucking perfect.” He moans quietly. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Praise is absolutely not lost on you, and every murmur and moan makes you work that much harder. Learning what works for him and what doesn’t isn’t difficult when Joel is so vocal, and before too long his hips are stuttering as he tries to chase the rhythm of your hand.

A shudder runs through his body, unsure if he would ever have you touch him like this. Panting as he curls his toes and his stomach tightens. “Gonna cum.” He warns you roughly.

“Show me.” You keep the pace of your movements and the same pressure with your hand and watch every movement in his body. “Let me see you, honey.”

He grunts, nodding seriously and his eyes flutter open again to focus on you. “Love you.” He knows you adoring hearing the words and he’s worked on being more vocal with you. It hadn’t helped him with Tess, he regretted not vocalizing his feelings before she died and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I love you too, Joel.” And what a hell of a morning for it to be said for the first few times. You’ll never forget a single thing about any of it. Especially not the blissful relaxation on his face just half a second after every muscle in his body tenses, that moment of explosive pleasure washing over him in an enormous wave.

In the last year, orgasms had been necessary. Functional. Something to be dealt with quickly when the need came over him. Often hurried and moved on from, but from the way you keep stroking his cock and cooing after he starts to cum, he knows you have every intention of drawing this out for him. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

The splatter over his stomach and down your hand is a beautiful sight, one that you take in greedily before laying back beside him in bed. “I love you,” you murmur again, letting yourself sigh and bask in the moment.

Joel pants, nodding as he tries to catch his breath. “Hope to hell you do.” He chuckles. “Holy shit.”

“I do.” And it rests gently in your chest like a bird happily resting from its flight. “So much.”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arm around your back and he starts to stroke it idly. “How was that, beautiful girl? Was it worth the risk?” He knows it’s cost you to expose yourself again, mentally and physically. So he doesn’t want you to regret it.

“I’ve never been safer than I am with you.” Of that, you are completely certain. And you’ve never been more certain than you are in this moment.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

N2N: @missladym1981

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #The Last of US #TLoU #TLoU HBO #reader with trauma

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

Text

Kinktober day 20

Bruce wayne + Hero/Villain

I really didn’t know what to do with this, so hope yall enjoy this. The reader is connected to Scarecrow in some way, no idea how but he does.

Kinktober list

- You had been a villain in Gotham for years now, having worked with Jonathan Crane before he became the Scarecrow. In the beginning you weren’t part of his villainy, but one time fear gas had spread all over your new job, and you hadn’t been affected.

- Apparently, your long past of working with chemicals and alike made you pretty much immune, at least to some of Jonathan’s earlier stuff.

- When it got around that you were immune to fear gas, people started to believe that you were working with Scarecrow or even was the Scarecrow.

- Even if it wasn’t true, people wanted someone they could target so you became their victim. You lost your job and no place wanted to hire you, you lost your apartment and even your friends and family

- That’s when your old friend Jonathan showed up and offered you a place. In the beginning he didn’t even ask for you to join in his plans, but as time passed you got more and more involved and suddenly you were a part of it.

- They called you the boogeyman. Your toxins and gasses had much longer lasting effects than Jonathan’s fear toxin. But where Jonathan’s toxin worked immediately and would wear off, yours was slower working and could lead to months of nightmares and terrors.

- But not only did you deal with fear toxins, you dealt with all kinds of gasses and liquids, affecting everything from insomnia to hunger. One of your favorite toxins made the one it was thrown on feel like they were dying from thirst even if they had just drunk something.

- One of your other favorites made the ones hit unable to sleep no matter what they did, even if they took handfuls of sleeping pills, they would not be able to shut their eyes and fall asleep. This led to many deaths from overdosing or insanity as they would go more than a week without sleep.

- You were just as feared as Scarecrow, but you never targeted the city as a whole like putting toxins in the water supply, you tended to target upper class areas, politicians, corrupt police, or people you saw as stains on society.

- You had many encounters with Batman, and you had hit him with many of your toxins over the years. It became almost a game, you would develop a new toxin, hit Batman or one of his many sidekicks and he would develop a cure.

- He had also thrown you in Arkham many times, but you always got out one way or another. Part of you found the bat endearing because he always offered to help you get out of this life, but you knew you were in too far.

- The other rogues of Gotham always joked about how the Bat seemed to have a soft spot for you, and you would always shrug and say it was because you tried to not harm too many innocent people, so you make the Bats job easier.

- It might also be because you had saved the lives of his sidekicks multiple times over the years, not that you would ever tell the other rogues. Like pulling them to safety when under Jonathan’s toxin or patching them up when unconscious.

- In the beginning you assumed no one noticed you doing these things, but Batman became less violent with you. Not a lot, but enough for you to notice. You wouldn’t be surprised if there were cameras or similar all over his sidekicks and he would have seen that way.

- It was another night in Gotham. You had just robbed another corrupt rich person blind after putting them under some new gas you had worked on.

- It was supposed to distract and stimulate parts of the brain that made you hallucinate, but unlike it being fear it would make you seem like whoever they wanted the most. It had been a pet project of yours and was still in the early stages.

- You had summed up that it didn’t work as you had planned, because the person you robbed just became unbearably horny to the point of tears, and was too busy trying to get off to notice you emptying their safe and leaving.

- The bulbs of pink gas were attached on the back of your belt for easy grabbing in battle, not that you were gonna use them. You were gonna have to work on the formula a bit more before bringing them into the field.

- That’s when the Bat appeared, and a battle began on the rooftop you had landed on. He was skilled like always, his scowl every present on his face as he tried to take you down.

- During one of these takedowns you had been thrown on your back and the bulbs containing your project shattered and the pink gas immediately scattered, smacking Batman right in the face. He immediately jumped back and covered his lower face, like he was expecting fear toxin.

- You pulled yourself into a seated position as you saw the Bat back up until he hit a wall, his legs seeming to grow more and more unsteady as he did, his chest rising and falling much faster than normal. What little skin you could see was becoming flustered, and you couldn’t help but glance down between his legs in hopes of seeing something.

- To your dismay he must have been wearing a cup or some kind of guard, as you couldn’t see any sign of an erection.

- As you got to your feet you scratched your cheek awkwardly as Batman’s knees seemed to grow more and more into jelly as they buckled. You gave a short apology at the gas, and explained it wasn’t meant to work like this, but it was still a work in progress.

- You cleared your throat and tried to adjust your stance to hide your own growing erection as Batman sank to his knees, trying your hardest not to stare as he reached between his legs to fondle at his crotch, a deep groan leaving his lips as he stimulated himself through whatever cup he was wearing.

- “Ill… uh ill go” you stiffly said, slowly shuffling around to fling yourself off the roof and get outta there, but before you can run for the hills the line of his grapple gun winds around your waist and immediately pull you back.

- The air was knocked out of your lungs as your chest met the roof and you were dragged backwards, your jacket protecting you from whatever scrapes you would otherwise have gotten from the action.

- When you were pulled back far enough, Batman grabbed your legs and flipped you over onto your back and crawled on top of you and hovered over you like some predatory animal.

- He was panting, his hot breath creating small clouds on the cold Gotham night air. You struggled and tried to roll back over to hide just how hard this whole thing made you, your face growing hot under your mask.

- You wanted to blame it on the toxin that had been spread about earlier, but you were completely immune to Jonathan’s and your own toxins and gases.

- When your mask was torn off you gasped and tried to cover your face with your hands. Sure, everyone in Gotham knew who you were, and Batman and his group had seen your face many times before, but you had grown so comfortable wearing it, that it always shook you to have it taken off.

- Your wrists were grabbed in gloved hands and torn away from your face, and before you could react lips pressed against your own. Batman’s kiss was anything but graceful, it was desperate and sloppy, and his tongue immediately pressed past your lips and wrestled with your own.

- Clenching your eyes shut you could do nothing but kiss him back, fighting not to moan as spit swapped between the both of you. The wet noises of your kissing made your hardness ache, your hips giving a twitch against his own as he sucked on your tongue.

- You were pleasantly surprised at just how good he was at kissing, and you were so taken by his lips you didn’t even notice him releasing your wrists and reaching downwards.

- It was only when you felt cold air brush against your cock that you realized. Trying to disconnect the kiss to look, you were unsuccessful as his lips followed your own and pressed you further into the roof beneath you.

- All you could feel was him moving his hands around somewhere between his legs, soon distracted as his wicked tongue brushed against the top of your mouth.

- You let out a choked noise as you felt the press of his length against your own, his skin hot to the touch and feeling like fire against your own cold body.

- Spit dribbled down the side of your face as he seemed dead set on tasting every nook and cranny of your mouth, your hands falling to the front of his suit and grasping on for dear life.

- It was good you had grabbed onto him as he soon wrapped a gloved hand about both of your lengths, his hips immediately thrusting into the grip and stimulating the both of you. His movements were quick and desperate, tiny pants and moans passing from his mouth into yours.

- Precum spilled from him like a faucet and quickly wetted his hand, making the movement slicker and even faster.

- You could barely believe what was happening as your eyes rolled under your lids and his teeth sunk into your bottom lip, his wrist twisting in skillful ways that had you wondering just how much experience Batman had.

- Moans and groans left the both of you as his hand and hips grew even quicker, his teeth sinking hard enough into you that you could taste blood. You couldn’t control your hips and started thrusting against him, your grip growing iron tight as you felt the familiar buzzing in your abdomen, the noises you made growing louder as you grew closer.

- The noise you made as you came was loud and could probably be heard all the way down on the sidewalk from the roof you were on, Batman’s hand twisting and pulling in ways that made your orgasm feel twice as long and twice as good.

- He grunted as he came, white splashes painting the front of your clothes and your softening cock, his hand rubbing it into your skin as if he was marking you.

- Letting go of the front of his suit you draped your arms over your eyes as you panted, still trying to catch up on what the hell just happened. You still hadn’t fully caught up on everything when you felt him kiss you one last time before he got up.

- Lifting your arm after a moment you saw him grapple off in another direction, his length packed away again and the man looking like he hadn’t even been affected in the first place.

- Now you really wanted to know just what Batman got up to in his civilian life. Maybe you would keep this toxin recipe, just for special occasions.

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maleyanderecafe · 29 days

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Hey, Idk if you’re into sadodere stuff, but i found this game that was just released with some great artwork. https://mellowbile.itch.io/where-he-is-king

Don’t feel obligated to play. Just a recommendation!

Normally I don't do sadodere stuff because, well, I am a yandere based blog, but I figured I might give it a shot. This game is very bloody and contains nudity, having an r18 rating on it. It is, however, very wonderfully made visually, with animations for the blood as well as quite a lot of CGs. The main character we see here, Friedrich “JunJingl” Marchosias, has quite a number of horrific forms, all of which look very cool and horrifying. You can try the game here, but be sure that you read all of the warnings since it can get pretty gruesome.

The story itself is pretty simple. The MC ends up meeting Friedrich, a god of sorts with a legion of demons hell bent on becoming the only god around. He and the MC had made a deal in the past, which allowed him to become powerful and he's come back to destroy the MC. Most of the endings involve running away from Friedrich, in an some horror form or another being unable to escape. Friedrich usually ends up torturing the MC, whether it be cutting her open and ripping out her guts, amputating her, eating her face, taking out an eye amongst other sorts, each with it's own unique CG and animation. There's even one where bugs come in and eat you from the inside out. There are two endings that don't end up with the MC becoming a sack of meat, with one making a deal with Friedrich again, basically stating that the MC will be his pet, causing the MC to give up their will and not be killed by Friendrich. The other is relating to his status as a god. The MC realizes that in this world, gods gain power through belief, so the more you believe that a person is a god, the more god like they become. By viewing him for what he really is, a demon, the MC is able to remember the knife they carried with them, ending up stabbing and eating his heart, with her becoming the god.

This game, at least from what I can tell, is a sort of artistic vent from the creator, and basically what I would consider either a murdersim or a torture porn to some extent. I will say that while I feel like I'm not the target audience for either genre, I can enjoy the various experience it does give me. For one, I think that the game is actually very well made from the CGs to the animated effects. Each ending has at least a handful of CGs, all of which make Friedrich this horrifying being, with tongues, teeth, eyes sticking out and making them into a true monster. I really enjoy the various forms that he takes, each more horrifying than the last. I think I just have a great love for unique monster designs honestly because that's something I hope to achieve one day. The effects for the blood splatters are really nice and watching the MC's guts come spilling out is very horrifying. I think that I really like the endings where he gouges out the MC's eyes and it actually stays on screen as if your eye had actually been taken out. It reminds me a bit of one of the routes in Forcefully Yours where Riker takes out the MC's eyes. It looks a little better on this one, but it does look very splendid. Out of all the endings though, the ending where we eat his heart and become god is my favorite, because, well, if you know me, you know I love destroying things and watching them suffer.

Generally the only real issue I have with this game is the font, because at times it is rather hard to read. The UI for some of the preference screens is also a bit small, which can likely be changed so that it's easier to actually be able to click on them. Perhaps a trigger warning before the game might be good too? I suppose since it's on the main page, it's not as big of a deal, but that's what I would at least think would be nice.

Friedrich himself is more of sadodere, which is someone who is sadistic to the person that they like. I wouldn't really qualify him as a yandere though, because while he does have some endings that do show affection towards the MC, (as seen above in the screenshot), most of them just involve him torturing and eventually killing the MC, mocking them and making them into a piece of meat. I guess you can sort of see it as a type of sadistic yandere, but he doesn't always show affection in all endings, or even most endings, so based on the very slim chance that it is, I really doubt it.

I think for what it is, it is a relatively well made game. Considering it is supposed to be a murder sim style/ torture porn style game, I think it achieved that very well. I've heard from friends that this anon has been going around promoting their game, so hopefully this ask response will do it justice. I'm sure that many in the yandere crowd will enjoy such a more sadistic game, so hopefully this will help get more people to play it. If the game does sound interesting, please give it a try.

#asks #recommendation #Where he is king

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twojackals · 10 months

Text

It starts at the top

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda is a good person who I admire. I consider her a mentor and I probably always will to some degree. She is a skilled Egyptologist, a talented divination professional, a beloved spiritual leader (even still to me now, that remains true), and I dare say under different circumstances she'd be easily considered a friend -- the problem is, no one these days has access to Tamara Siuda long enough to be her friend -- but what's worse is that in, my opinion, no one has enough access to Tamara Siuda to be her devotee, either.

And that is definitely one of the big reasons behind my dropping down from Shemsu-Ankh to Remetj.

Let's roll back for a second though.

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda is the creator of Kemetic Orthodoxy (not Kemeticism, but Kemetic Orthodoxy in specific. She is a truly beloved spiritual leader, and the self-proclaimed incarnation of the Kingly Ka (a spiritual component linking all Pharonic Kemet rulers, aka Pharaohs). She had a calling, and a vision, and she did everything she could to bring those ideas and visions to fruition. Enter Kemetic Orthodoxy.

I arrived in the House late 2000. The year 2000 was a different time: Some people like me will tell you the old days were the better days, and we really do mean it; however, it doesn't come without its caveats. We were smaller back then, and that isn't something I deny to be an easier situation. With a smaller community size, came differences. Much different, in fact. So different, it may have well been an entirely different religion in a lot of ways, not in belief structure, but in access to the people most important to be the guiding lights of the path itself, and interaction with Hemet (a word conveying a type of royalty), or Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda, was not at all infrequent.

Having an actual human relationship with Rev. Dr. Siuda back then wasn't a difficult task, and it is what I remember most fondly about "the old days", as it were.

Today, you can literally go months without ever seeing Hemet in any accessible KO location. It's strange because I think I didn't notice it for a long time, and only began to realize the extent of this isolation / disconnection for myself when I first joined her Patreon server. While I had spent the 3+ years (4 come Wep Ronpet) since re-joining the temple wondering "where is Hemet in all of this these days" as her presence grew ever more scant, joining her Patreon would be a refreshing surprise, because basically: there she is. It's not terribly difficult to touch base with her when you're on her Patreon Discord or in one of her Patreon programs, and that shook my world a bit more than I thought it would. To the point where it became one of the reasons I pulled out of the same program after being in it for only a very short amount of time.

Where was Hemet? Well she was there, for anyone who was willing to pay for it at least, and that bothered me to my very core. To be extremely clear, I do not believe she means it to look this way. I do not believe it is her intention for things to be this way, but as per our capitalistic society, maybe that's just the way it needs to be.

That sent me spiraling back into my memories, some more recent than others. We had for years disavowed the idea of a "paywall" inside Kemetic Orthodoxy, for example. Even the old mailing list which was a "Donate $5 and get access to extra stuff!" was a source of disdain: People considered that "tiered access", though I think the donation aspect still exists but not held in perpetuity or the like (you donate once, no one notices if you never donate again). But today, the quality of what you get is no longer there anyway, even for $5. I suppose that is because holding anything back "just for donors" brings that "tiered access" problem back. Today, the list you are subscribed to is nothing but a regurgitation of some Daybook content, and it appears to be queued up robotically with absolutely no customization.

It's funny because if you read what the list is meant to provide, it is that Daybook content as well as (quote) "hymns, prayers, and other tidbits provided by Hemet (AUS)." We used to get that back in the day, to be clear. The tidbits, prayers, hymns… we used to even have access to KO blog-style posts from Hemet multiple times per week. Unfortunately, those days are long gone, and as I mentioned, the mailing list is nothing but the same Daybook content on a never-ending carousel, the beautiful inspirational blog posts are long gone, and Hemet is about as distant as both of them.

As a result, I hardly consider the "mailing list" to be a form of tiered content, but there was at one point in the House's history a time when people cried about the disparity between those with $5, and those without, despite always needing donations, and I suppose here we are.

When you think about the fact that we no longer have the access to Hemet we once did, we no longer have the relationship to Hemet we once did, we no longer get the tidbits, prayers, hymns, and other unique content we once did, and no one really cares if you continue donating "at least $5 in a calendar year or not" to be on it, you realize that list is really nothing anymore. It's just recurring mush pre-scheduled and unlovingly dumped into your box at midnight or like, akin to so much spam we avoid day in and day out, and you still technically have to pay $5 for it.

But all the while we the Kemetic Orthodox crowd is getting this regurgitated content and limited access, people are in fact able to get plenty of access to Hemet and personalized relationships and advice... just not within the actual religion she created. And the way they do that is, in fact, by paying for it: the one thing we kept saying we didn't want to do as a religion, but that we can -- and dare I say, should -- do. Because listen: I recognize capitalism, and that nothing operates on hopes and prayers. There should be tiered access available within Kemetic Orthodoxy that gives access to programs and resources so that donations do happen and that Hemet does not need to go to Patreon independently to do what she needs to do, and our community can again have an access to its spiritual leader that makes that much more worth being here to begin with.

Because I can get the Gods anywhere -- I can only get Kemetic Orthodoxy here though.

But at the same time, you can't keep asking for donations, and delivering almost nothing to the very religion you created. And I do not say that in a vacuum, because before you say "all she does behind the scenes", I already know quite a bit of what she does behind the scenes, and I'm here to tell you quite point-blank: it isn't enough (clarify: it isn't enough to only be behind the scenes and just tell people you really really promise you're doing tons of work, even if you never see or get to interact with me).

I'm sorry, Tamara.

It's weird, I know, I sound like I'm speaking against her, but yet seem to turn it around entirely saying things like she should be available via paywalls. It also seems like I'm screaming into a void of entitlement, but again that's not meant to be the case. If you look at what I'm saying, you will understand I am not speaking 'against' her at all. I am in favor of her doing every single thing she must to find joy, happiness, and yes money, because that's the world we live in... and if that's outside Kemetic Orthodoxy, so be it. But you can't necessarily be "King", either, at the same time.

I do not agree with the idea that the only place you can seem to get access to our own spiritual leader in any significant capacity, is outside of the very religion she created. And creating a religion is no small thing, particularly if you are going to be assigned the literal role of Royalty that comes down from a very long, long line. I mean, she won't even participate in our own Discord, and to be clear, she is definitely participating in her own. So this is not a technology-gap kind of thing, and while the excuse over time has always been that people will try to overwhelm her, there are ways of dealing with that -- none of which anyone is willing to explore.

That responsibility you create by the process of birthing an entire religious movement into this world… it cannot be quantified by contracts, donation levels, exterior commitments, or other spiritual lives you may lead. If you create a path followed by hundreds, you need to be there, because that is your creation from the ground up, your baby, and all the babies that came from it depend on you for as long as it remains standing. "How do you make money", "How do you keep it going", "How do you find the time" -- all good questions, and all not questions anyone in the religion you've created technically needs to worry about, because it wasn't their choice to make this path, it was only their choice to follow it.

By making a statement of such importance as being the incarnation of an ancient, profound, holy and somewhat unbroken energy, followed up without a commitment that reflects the very innate reverence and humility contained within the statement itself, is a paradox I am having great difficulty to reconcile, not the least of which is how you can claim to be this, but also be dual-aspected in terms of your own spirituality in your own personal life as well (something I will not comment further on, asit is a point of bitterness I cannot overcome right now but also a very complex point as well that is not fair for me to touch on).

Simply speaking, after great, deep consideration, I have simply had to come to the conclusion as follows:

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda, who I still admire, and deeply respect, is not the incarnation of the Kingly Ka of Pharonic Kemet. She remains an amazing spiritual leader, a strong and experienced divination practitioner (which is why I still accept my RPD results), and a beautiful soul. But in its current incarnation? I feel Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda has functionally abandoned Kemetic Orthodoxy in one too many ways, and I do not believe any true modern-day King could be capable of such a serious lapse or gap.

In a not-insignificant way, I do feel she avoids her community more than she embraces it, and that makes me sad. Too sad to stay as I was any longer, because I was not getting what I needed from a spiritual community, and too much of it went back to Tamara in specific.

It's possible, one day, I will change my mind about this. I am not so arrogant to think I will never change my mind again, I am 41 years old and have changed my mind more times than I can count. But for now, I agreed I would talk about why I've decided to make these changes in my Kemetic spiritual life, and this needed to be said if I was going to be honest. This is how I feel, right now, for today, and probably tomorrow.

I've cut out quite a bit of material from this, things I wrote down in my first few days after I made the change to Remetj that were perhaps a lot more harsh than I intended. I re-read it to myself and, while a lot of it still made sense, I decided it was just not fair to post. Instead, I tried to balance the way I feel, and the things I want to say, with enough balance that I can still project how disappointed I am in the state of everything and turns of events (or lack thereof), without equally projecting a serious attack against another person (which is not my intent).

I am not here to attack. I am here to express, and that will walk a fine line not everyone is going to agree with.

As usual, I'm fairly OK with that. Edit: Wow... in writing this, I wasn't expecting it to feel like a 20-lbs weight has been lifted from my chest, and my heart, and my soul. But here we are.

Edit 2: Someone on Facebook decided to state that I believe Hemet is a "dirty capitalist" -- I want to be clear that if this is what you've gotten from this post, you are wildly mistaken. Either I am not calling her that at all, or I am simply calling us all dirty capitalists, due to the innate unavoidability of capitalism itself. Ultimately, the idea is to combine 'necessary capitalism' with KO in order to save it and to ensure its spiritual leader can survive on what is connected to the House, rather than what comes from outside the House.

But, I was also accused of stating that Hemet should spend 'all of her free time' in the House, and that is a bit more tricky to address. Here's the thing: if you're going to call yourself King / Pharaoh, perhaps this is the responsibility that comes along with it -- whether that is 'palatable' to people becomes irrelevant.

Edit 3: Because we need these edits, yo. To be crystal clear, I also believe there are alternatives to Tamara being "only involved" in KO, but that's going to involve her a) speaking more readily, honestly, and openly to her congregation on a regular basis (perhaps not every day, but regular, none the less), b) dropping down from a position of "King" to something more akin to High Priest or Spiritual Leader so that her role makes more sense, c) creating full delegation to a wide group of people to run the Temple and its resources/platforms (something where change is happening slower than a snail can jog), d) dropping all contracts that indicate she will work x-amount-of-hours for x-amount-of-pay, because the organization is no where near big enough or committed enough to support it, unless e) they finally agree to integrate some revenue stream into the Temple itself. I'm not saying I have all the answers. I'm saying the way it is now, doesn't work, and will only get worse. I am hoping for change that bridges the gaping divides, and I don't have a scripted plan to 100% tell anyone how that would go. I just know that it can't stay like this, and as long as it does, Kemetic Orthodoxy is not for me. Like I said: I can get the Gods anywhere.

#blog #kemetic #kemet #personal #netjer #religion #pagan #spirituality #spiritual #growth #spiritual journey #kemetic orthodoxy #kemeticism #paganism #polytheism #polytheist #gods #ancient egypt

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sasusakucoded · 8 months

Text

Sasuke, Shikamaru, and Sai went to a mission in a foreign country. When they were finished and were supposed to leave the area, Sai took out a note from Ino.

Shikamaru: *sees Sai scratching his head* What's the matter?

Sai: Ino asked me to buy so many things. I don't even know most of these.

Sasuke: Tell us.

Sai: I mean I know these but I don't know her measurements.

Shikamaru: Ino is petite. Just get the smallest size.

Sai: Yeah, you're right.

Next thing they know, they're heading to the fashion district. They entered the 1st shop they saw.

Sai: Okay, the first item here is a violet dress..

Shikamaru: *points at the dresses* There, pick one.

Sai: I'm still clueless.. Why are there so many small sizes?

Sasuke: *picks a dress* This is Sakura's size.

Shikamaru: Really? How sure are you?

Sasuke: *compares the length to his height* I'm sure. Maybe Ino is the same size.

Shikamaru: But get one for bigger bust—

Sasuke: Hey.

Sai: Hey!

Shikamaru: I-It's true! Anyway, are you getting one for Sakura?

Sasuke: No. She has a very specific color choice and she needs it customized to add our crest. I'll buy her something else.

Shikamaru: Okay, I'm also planning to buy something for Temari.

Sai: *pays for the dress* Next is denim pants. Let's go to the other store.

---

Shikamaru: Why didn't she include her size??

Sai: I didn't want to question her.

Shikamaru: *sighs* This is such a drag.

Sasuke: *looks at the mannequins* This one has the same waist as Sakura. *holds the mannequin's waist*

Shikamaru: It's creepy touching a mannequin like that!

Sasuke: *removes his hand quickly* I-I'm just showing..

Sai: Showing what?

Sasuke: *sighs* Forget it. Just pick anything fast.

Sai: I'm clueless what to pick.

Sasuke: I'm buying this one for Sakura. *gets a pair and goes to the counter*

Sai: Hey! What about Ino?

Shikamaru: Sai, just pick whatever he picked and let's get over with it.

Sai: Aren't you getting one for Temari?

Shikamaru: She's not fond of pants.

---

Sai: A yukata? I think I can pick any size for this.

Sasuke: No, you have to consider the length of the yukata and the length of the sleeves..

Shikamaru: Why do you know so much about clothes?

Sai: He has such a good fashion sense, Shikamaru.

Shikamaru: Not my area of expertise. But tell me, what suits Temari best? *checks the hanging yukatas*

Sasuke: Not sure.. But Sakura likes something like that. *points at a pink yukata with floral design*

Saleslady: May I help you?

Sasuke: Can I have a look at that?

Saleslady: Of course! *gets the yukata*

Sai: *watches him measure the length*

Shikamaru: *watches him inspect the cloth*

Sasuke: The sleeves are quite long for my wife. I need it to be around 8 inches shorter.

Shikamaru: /thinks/ What's with this man? That's so precise??

Saleslady: We alter clothes! Is that all?

Sai: /thinks/ Amazing! I should get a similar one.

Sasuke: Yeah. And that red one? *points at another yukata* Can I also check?

Saleslady: Sure! *gives it to Sasuke*

Sasuke: *meaures it* I'll take this too for my daughter. Thanks.

Shikamaru: You even know Sarada's measurements?

Sasuke: Isn't that a given? They know my size too.

Sai: You're making us look bad, Sasuke.

Shikamaru: Ah. I'll pay attention next time.. Should I buy one for Temari? Do you think they're of the same size?

Sasuke: I guess. Yukata is easier to buy than a dress or pants.

Shikamaru: Got it!

Sai: This one, I'm sure Ino will like. *goes to the counter*

Shikamaru: I'm getting this one. If it does not fit her, well.. It's the thought that counts. *laughs*

---

Their wives were waiting at the Konoha gates..

Temari: *waves* Why do you look like you went on a shopping spree?

Shikamaru: It's because we did. *hands the paperbag to Temari*

Temari: Shikamaru? *hugs him*

Ino: Really, Sai? That means you're able to buy the stuff that I listed? *hugs Sai*

Sai: Of course! *gives her the paperbags*

Sakura: Welcome back, Anata. *smiles*

Sasuke: Yeah. *gives her the paperbags* I hope they fit you.

Sakura: Anata, you always get the perfect size for me. Thank you! *hugs him*

Sasuke: *whispers* I wanna go home. I'm sick of these two.

Sakura: *laughs* Hey, we'll go ahead! Bye!

#sasusaku #sasusaku headcanon #ss headcanon #konoha husbands #uchihas #sscoded no 186

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raguna-blade · 5 months

Text

having had my day devoured by the newest hbomberguy vid (been a short day, it happens) i think the thing most impressive going on here vid wise is the degree of build up that goes on here.

like yes, fuck james sommerton, it's real hard to imagine that you accidentally duped shit that many times for that long, but we get it, fuck him and the other guys.

no what i found real interesting is the way the whole essay was constructed really really did spend an almost excessive amount of time building up the foundation of how the youtube plagiarism and such goes on, coming from pretty basic baby shit that none the less required a bit of effort to do (the game reviewer dude) to a more complicated but still effort requiring bit with illuminaughti and the cinemassacre stuff, to even MORE effort being required (until you found it admittedly) with the internet historian who, at the very least, seemed to be just the one time unless I glitched out and missed other stuff.

Like way back with the game review he goes ok but this is actually a really transparent attempt at dealing with the fallout of being caught doing this, it's just actually a bad misdirect but because it is we can see how this actually works so when we see more experienced and better people do it, it'll be easier to see.

And that was true, like it came up frequently throughout the video.

But this was a tremendous amount of careful, pretty considered build up going on here, and you would expect, especially given the length of the video and the section focusing on him, that what you were going to get when we got the Sommerton, was some REAL bullshit, like some grade A "Damn I hate to see it but fuck if they didn't plagiarise but good and here's how and what"

That'd be the thrust right? That's generally how you build up the stakes, the final point is usually where it's going to be the most complicated and detailed, where you'd need the level of build up and experience established (such as you can in a video, even a long 2 hour set up being what it is) so that you can see all the techniques and tricks and shit and it's just....

Holy Fuck. I'm not gonna make light of how he got away with what he did, because lord knows i would have fell for it trivially (even with vids that DO actually give bibliographies i don't usually do the reading I just kinda trust that it's fine. It's something to work on I suppose especially in light of this) but the absolute level of laziness here is something fucking WILD to see on display.

Like i'm stealing the last bit from @cryptotheism post here

But genuinely how the actual FUCK do you read that much, or hell even just SCAN that much for a given subject and not have even a mental shorthand of how you wanna phrase the same information? Like not even a condensed version of their points? Just straight up word for word stealing? AND YOU INTERLACE THEM WITH OTHER AUTHORS AT POINTS?

Like this is damn near cartoon levels of sloth going on here. You are working so hard to work so little that you're working harder than it would take for you to actually just do something original at that point. like it's not even the whole goddamn thing in a lot of places, it's parts! You had to understand at LEAST the individual points made there, and understand that they connected to some degree to the other related points, select JUST THOSE RELEVANT BITS, and shove them into the essay but you don't...You don't even change them up enough that a quickie google search would have at least some trouble to find them?

This gets away from the point i was initially going with, i'm kinda doing this off the top of my head fresh off the vid and winding down, but it's wild that for all that he set up in the first half of the vid a bevy of techniques, ways around things to not immediately ding bullshit, how to play off if you DO get caught, and all that and it damn near turns out you didn't fucking need it because dude was basically getting by and raw...whats' the word i'm looking for here. Arrogance? Absolute But Unearned Self Confidence (pretty sure that's arrogance) for what looks like it was damn near fucking amateur hour for how well he actually hid what he was pulling from.

An excellent video, and the breakdown is definitely more complicated than that for all that I feel like i'm underselling it but it's like i was built up ready and trained, primed to see bullshit everywhere, and then i see a series of spike pits with signs in front of them saying where they are but even though it's obvious it's SO MUCH you start second guessing yourself at a point.

#Plagiarism and You(tube)#hbomberguy #do recommend a watch when you have 4 hours of time and a desire to laugh for comedy reasons and horror reasons

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not-poignant · 2 months

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Hey, hey! Random kind-of-writer here, who struggles to bring words on paper and looking for help/advice? I think I finally found my problem, which comes in the shape of 'my third person pov writing sounds like an ikea building instruction'. AKA: All that what the pov character perceives is there, things are happening/the plot is there but the writing kind of lacks thoughts/feeling/inner monolog? For years I've followed your stories and I look up to your writings skills. Especially you handling of pov and that gorgeous mixture of what the character perceives and what is happening in their head. Do you have maybe any tips/insight how do you find a balance?

Hi anon!

So firstly I'm going to point you to my dialogue research post that I put up recently, because dialogue research applies to a characters inner dialogue as well, and will kind of give you a guide as to how they're likely to be talking in their heads. (How I write as the narrator in A Stain that Won't Dissolve is actually somewhat similar to how Alex speaks, I even go out of my way not to use certain words if I don't think Alex would know what they mean).

Otherwise there's several approaches you can take.

You can imagine that the character is basically writing a journal entry or a diary entry. The narrator is, in a way, piggy backing off that. You're a fly on the wall of a character's brain. Sometimes they're going to have lots of thoughts, sometimes they're going to have none. Sometimes my characters are literally just narrating what's happening no thoughts attached, sometimes they're narrating with thoughts attached, and sometimes they're just thinking about stuff and missing what's going on in front of them.

Diary entries are like that too. They can vary from 'today I did this, did this, walked the dog, had this for dinner, and read some of this book' to 'oh my GOD I HATE this person sO MUCH and I really can't BELIEVE this is happening to me omg the DOG needs to be walked I keep FORGETTING.'

Somewhere in there, is your character.

Some characters are more - for lack of a better word - detached or utilitarian than others, some have their voices 'come to life' over the course of a story, because they're growing (Gwyn can be a bit like this).

Some characters are very observational, some are stuck in their heads. Some ground themselves through noticing their surroundings, others notice how other people are acting and behaving (especially true with trauma, Astarion notices setting way less than he notices how people are behaving around him).

It might help you to write down some little sentences like 'this character notices people a lot because people hurt them' or 'this character looks for nature because they like nature' or 'this character is very sensitive to smells so they constantly are aware of how things smell.'

From there, I am very sorry to say, it's just a matter of practice! This stuff becomes easier the more you do it. At first, it will be normal for the characters to feel a bit mechanical and not very natural, and that's because you're still building the skills you need to bring them to life from the ground up. Most writers don't have these skills even if they know what they're supposed to be learning, and they can only be learned through trying, making some mistakes, having some successes, and keeping on with the words.

How you write the first paragraph of a character this year, will be very different to next year, if you just keep writing.

Unfortunately, you can't skip past that part either. I can give you lots of tips, and you can do lots of research and guidance for yourself, but at the end of the day the best way to make it feel natural and have some depth, is to actually just keep writing characters and reflecting on what you've written, notice the paragraphs you like as well as the ones you don't, and building and building from there.

I wish you all the words, anon! It's normal to feel dissatisfied with your writing sometimes, that means you know you have room to grow - but the best thing is, you're already growing if you're noticing this stuff!!! That's actually a positive! You'll go through periods of feeling satisfied, and then dissatisfied, if you keep on keeping on, and looking at what the writers you love are doing, you'll eventually really just pick it up until it feels quite natural to you <3

#asks and answers #pia on writing #pia on characterisation #so like... inner thoughts - i used to chronically journal #and i find narration and journaling quite similar as skills #because you can also journal clinically and observationally #or you can journal emotionally #you can journal in metaphor and prose-style writing #and you can journal in flat facts and science #narrators are kind of the same alkfjsadfsda #administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

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neobora · 1 year

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i want to change. i cried just rn. i'm just wasting my time w trying to manifest my desires. i don't know how to change this fucking situation because i dwelled on the fact i have the most terrible circumstances and because of that my subsconcious got used to it. I don't know how to get out of my comfort zone and victim mindset. I have been consuming information for years and do nothing but feel sorry for myself and thinking i'm in a hopeless situation. I know this isn't going to get me anywhere, but I don't know how to get out of this mentality. i just want to fucking beat myself up i'm so stupid. i'm tired of my same routine. i woke up. i go to the tumblr. i go to the reddit. i go to the amino and read 83928 things everyday. sometimes i feel like i'm crazy and all of those loa manifwst stuff or not real.

did i overcomplicated loa😭

oh dear😭 give yourself a break, honestly! manifesting isnt supposed to be stressful, but fulfilling. again, the only change that will be reflected is a change in SELF. you can see how well the 3d is doing it’s job at reflecting you rn. but it doesn‘t matter who the outer world says you are, you can ALWAYS change within just by deciding to. do you want to live like this? no. then stop! make it clear to you that you are the ONLY CREATOR and the only one who is being reflected. take responsibility for creating what you see outside of you, which also means that you can change SELF anytime you want to. imagination is the only reality and the only time that exists is NOW, self doesnt care about your past, it only cares about NOW. who are you right now? that will reflect.

i know it can be tough completely changing self, often youre even scared of letting go and assuming nothing can hurt you. at one point i even realized i was scared of actually seeing a change in the 3d. but that fear is created by you and no one can stop giving it so much credit except you.

stop consuming so much info, it‘s all the same anyways. choose desire, assume you have it, persist, done. the only thing that helped me really was actually FEELING LIKE I AM IN CONTROL OVER MY MIND. you can read anything you want, as many times as you want but you won‘t get it if you don‘t feel it true. edward art’s reddit series honestly helped me so much, but i actually feel different about the lines now than when i started reading it because i started giving MYSELF, my INNER SELF all the power. but tbh nothing on tumblr really explains it in as much detail as this series, it really gets the point across. if you want to read something about the loa, then go for this instead of posts that just repeat themselves. especially the posts about fear are eye-opening.

honestly in my opinion it doesn‘t matter what your subconscious does nor should you worry about it, it accepts literally ANYTHING to be true if you have faith. there is no past and no future, it doesnt matter. the only thing there is to do is change self and stick with it, no matter what happens. you are the only one who can save yourself.

again, no one can tell you how to feel, or feel for you, you have to give yourself the freedom of feeling but yourself. you are always able to change, it just depends on wether you decide to or not. decide to change and stick with it, no matter what. once you actually internalise that you create everything so you do not have to feel (identify with) your fears and doubts, but can instead feel (know) that you ALREADY ARE WHAT YOU WANT TO BE IN IMAGINATION, it gets easier and easier. but you must have the courage not to look back and fall into old states. why? because you don’t want to! fall in love with your new state and leaving gets harder and harder. but when you do, remind yourself that the 3d is literally just your mind. you don’t have to identify with anything you don‘t like. from there you can create what you WANT.

#my asks #loa #law of assumption #manifesting

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copperbadge · 1 year

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I am *also* from Chicago and about to visit Amsterdam and London (flight leaves on Thursday!) so it’s a trip reading your posts lol. Any tips?? It’s been a couple years since I’ve been to either city. Is Cambridge worth carving out the space in my schedule for a day trip? (And if you don’t have the spoons to answer this no biggie! Honestly seeing you have a good time makes me less anxious already :)) Safe and happy travels! ^^

Oh cool! I hope you have a great time. I will keep this short as time is lower than spoons...

Moneywise, nearly everywhere in London takes contactless cards, to the point where it's what you're supposed to try first; in America (at least in Chicago) we all have the chip thing, but the chip thing is now like swiping, it's secondary to contactless. So when you're checking out always look at the keypad thing and see where the contact pad is, and pat it there. As for Amsterdam, I was warned and found it true that while most places say they accept cards, they really, REALLY prefer cash, so have some Euros on hand. The train station in Amsterdam, Centraal, is a nightmare but they do have very convenient cash-changing offices. They also have One Single Solitary Bathroom and it costs money to use it, so pee on the train if you can. (A lot of places in Amsterdam charged for bathroom use which I think is pretty standard, somewhere between 50 cents and 1 euro, sometimes in cash, sometimes with contactless.)

In London, the buses also all take contactless cards, so you don't need a ticket or a pass, just slap that card on the reader as you enter. Unlike the buses, if you use the underground you need to card out as well as in, so have your card (the same card you used to enter) handy as you leave.

Cambridge was a really good time -- good shopping, fun scenery -- but I was meeting a friend and that's what made it special for me; not only did we get to hang out, but she could get me into a lot of places I might not otherwise have access. Unless you have someone to show you around, I'd stick to London; Cambridge is beautiful but difficult if you don't know it, and also it's like a two hour trip, especially when the train isn't running the whole way. I had to do bus to train to bus, and honestly I had to follow a bunch of people who actually knew where they were going to get to the train (you go through a dark, closed mall to get there, at least when I was there). I'd recommend if you don't have a guide, stick to London, it's easier to navigate and it's not like you'll run out of stuff to do.

Otherwise -- be prepared to queue, folks love to queue, and if you are planning to eat out somewhere you should definitely make a reservation. I would have had a long, uncomfortable wait for the cheese conveyor belt if I didn't have a reservation, and prior to getting there I walked through Soho, past like, dozens of people lined up to get into fairly low-grade looking restaurants that I simply would not queue for. RIP but I'm different. :D

Aside from that no real tips. Just have fun and don't wear yourself out too badly!

#sam travels #the cheese tour

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corishadowfang · 3 months

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It's appreciate a dragon day, apparently, and I don't have time to do art or fics because. Time. And Energy. But for the past week or so I've had my Kingdom Hearts dragons AU on the mind...which wasn't supposed to be an AU AU, but just kind of a way to draw the characters since I'm not good at drawing people. But because I have no self-control, there's worldbuilding suddenly, and I really want to ramble about it, haha.

I really need to stress that this was originally just me thinking, "Hey, if I'm drawing them as dragons, wouldn't Scala have to look different, too? Since dragons would probably need different things than humans." And then it just. Spiraled.

I didn't know what to do with the Keyblades initially? I, uh. Wasn't sure if I wanted to go the "wielding Keyblades in the mouth," haha. Which kind of spiraled into, "What if the dragon thing just...replaces the Keyblades? Like, people become dragons, basically."

So the idea is kind of like...magic is still A Thing. Everyone can use it, with the right training, but the more you use magic, the more it changes you. (Yes, I've used this idea before, but shhh.) It very gradually changes your appearance, abilities, etc. Your magic gets stronger, but you become less and less human. Eventually, according to most people, you basically lose yourself to it and become a monster, so it's something of a controversial subject.

(The "become a monster" thing is only partially true. You can become a Heartless, but there are a lot of people who just become normal dragons, too. Unfortunately everyone just groups the two together.)

Anyone who used magic kind of like...filled a very weird niche in society where they weren't exactly accepted, but their abilities were still useful, so they were kind of both shunned and respected equally.

The Master of Masters and the Foretellers are the ones who really changed this; MoM went hardcore on the narrative that the "normal" transformation wasn't really monstrous at all, and painted the Foretellers very much as mythological heroes who could fight the actual monsters much more effectively than any normal person. Magic and dragons still made a lot of people wary, but it was tempered a bit, especially with kids.

SPEAKING OF--that's why a lot of kids ended up in Daybreak Town. Less pre-existing ideas on magic and dragons, so it's easier for them to see this as a good thing.

(And then MoM goes and ruins it with the whole "war" thing.)

Once you turn into a dragon, you can take human form again for short periods of time, but it's often uncomfortable, so Daybreak Town and Scala are both designed more with dragons in mind.

Daybreak Town was an abandoned human town that MoM and the Foretellers just repurposed, so while there are still buildings, they had to be modified a lot. The Clock Tower is an abandoned castle, haha.

Scala is basically a mountain range on the edge of the ocean! Or mountains on islands...? Uh. Something like that, haha. Lots of bare white rock and caves and stuff. I think the main island's a little more open, just because like...I like the idea of them wanting more "light" as a sort of symbolism thing.

Dragons are the only ones that can fly to other worlds without assistance! Their magic kind of protects them, basically, but they do actually have to fly. Lots of young dragons like to bring back trinkets from different worlds (which is generally how their hoards are formed, haha).

Uh, I only have loose ideas of how some characters would've actually gotten into this. Ven I think was basically born with an excessive amount of magic that he couldn't really control, so he turned really, really young, and there wasn't much he could do about it. Brain thought that the fear about magic was stupid and actively fostered his out of spite. Ephemer was super curious about the idea, and ended up digging deeper into things. Skuld and Lauriam I'm less certain on. (I could see Lauriam doing it as a way to help protect Strelitzia--maybe she was like Ven, and turned accidentally? And Skuld--honestly just could've done it because she was swept up in what MoM/the Foretellers said, haha.)

Aaaaand I'm looking at how much I've rambled and will spare your dashes, but uh. Yeah. Dragons!

#kingdom hearts #khux #dragons #i hope this is at least semi coherent haha #this has just sunk its claws in my mind and will not let go #so it had to go SOMEWHERE #i really cannot stress enough that this Was Not supposed to have worldbuilding #(or at least not much of it)#and yet. here we are

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fipindustries · 26 days

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in art there is an inherent tension between nature and nurture. is the conflict between those simple executions that are known to work, that stimulate base parts of our sensorioum and brain and thus of massive appeal, easy to grasp and enjoy; against things that are dense in technique, and concept, for which one has to develop a language, a technical understanding and a taste, hermetic and not easy to grasp at once.

i think most of the public expects most art to fall on the first cathegory to some degree or another. a painting should look "pretty", whatever pretty means, a song should be "catchy", food should be "tasty", a joke should be "funny", a movie should be "entertaining". either way, the point is that art should "feel good" or rather it should "click" in a quick sensory way. that when you watch a movie its quality should be as immediatly appreciable as when you eat a good meal. and when they hear experts try to explain more advanced pieces they are expecting to hear an explination that makes it so that those advnaced pieces stimulate those simple buttons that more simple stuff so easily satisfies. but of course they never get that, instead they get a bunch of theory that does nothing to make the art any closer in a purely sensorial way.

the idea that in order to appreciate something one has to first develop an understanding or appreciation of it feels counter intuitive, it feels like enjoying art with extra steps, you have to force yourself to extract joy out of something (which is not a pleasant experience, there is always that frustration of the excercise not feeling genuine, not feeling true and emotionally potent, it feels like an affectation) in order to extract the joy and entertainment that one could get much easier from something more direct and simple.

for some people having fun listenting to a catchy jingle made with the classic 4 chords or eating a nice chocolate cake feels more "natural" than listening to prog rock or reading infinite jest. its almost teleological. our tongues were Made to enjoy sugar, that is how things are meant to be because that is how nature designed us. in a sense the studying of art techniques is basically the analisis and compilation of the formulas that work, of the buttons that one has to press to stimulate the human animal in the correct way. we know how the pentatonic scale works, on almost a biological level, we have color theory, we have composition, we understand the three act structure.

so one might ask, why even bother with the weirder stuff, the stuff that is hard to appreciate? the stuff that we kind of have to shape ourselves into enjoying? its artificial, its purely a social construct. is not real, humans were not made for this.

well, the truth is, humans are much more versatile than that, and whilst we are all born with some basic buttons that anyone can push to satisfy, it is also in our nature the capacity to develop more buttons, more complex and intricate. buttons that start to crave for layers, for nuance, for the weird and ecclectic and unique. people DO develop a taste for special, particular old wines that were cultivated in such and such a way, people DO get a lot of meaning from the works of john cage, people DO have fun reading ulysses and these things are not necesarily an affectation. and this is a process that will happen on its own the more we are exposed to more and more art.

i do want to clarify, i dont believe in teleological arguments or appeals to nature. even if that last paragraph wasnt the case, that wouldnt change anything for me, but still, it is the case and i think its worth being said.

now, a lot of people see the developing of their taste as a challenge or an obligation, which can make it an imposition and rob the enjoyment out of it. god knows i forced myself to watch some movies simply because i thought they were the kinds of movies i was supposed to like if i wanted to consider myself a cinephile. i dont think this is a good approach, experiment and push yourself out of your comfort zone, yes, that is how you discover new things. but dont force yourself to stay there if its just not doing it for you. i came to terms with the fact i will probably never understand pollock no matter how many of his paintings i see or how much i study on the subject. but i have come to discover i do like donna tart's the goldfinch quite a lot.

and this doesnt go just for the higher forms of art, try those "trashy" things that come from spaces that are not your scene at all. i was convinced i was never going to be able to enjoy cumbia or trap or bachata and yet i kept my ears open and ended up finding songs in all of those genres that i cant stop listenting to. there are so many buttons inside of you and you dont know what is going to press of of them by surprise one of these days.

#art

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professorspork · 1 year

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I’ve been wondering how much of Yang’s cheerfulness may also be her filling in the gap that’s been left by Ruby? Not to say that she can’t and hasn’t been cheerful on her own, but could she be subconsciously overexaggerating? Humor is her defense mechanism after all 🤧

I don't disagree, and I do think the difference in Yang's mood and affect between episodes 1 and 2 of Volume 9 is striking, but. I think it would be a misdiagnosis to say that this is only something Yang's started doing in the Ever After. this has been going on their whole entire lives in a weird, sad see-saw.

it is time to talk about the XIAO LONG ROSE SISTER OPTIMISM FEEDBACK LOOP.

You are Yang Xiao Long, and your mother is gone. your dad is spiraling out into a depressive episode you have no way of knowing will take years for him to climb out of; all you know is that it's right now and right now might as well be always. he is not reading you stories; he is not making you breakfasts and dinners. he is not checking on you, or joking with you, or doing any of the things he'd usually do. and sometimes Uncle Qrow can do those things, but most of the time Uncle Qrow is gone, and sometimes even when he's not gone he FEELS gone, he's sloppy and tired and distant in a way that's totally different but no less alienating than the way that your father is sloppy and tired and distant. and that--well, it's not okay, but you're a big kid now. mostly. you can handle it. you can take care of that stuff on your own if you have to.

but your sister is not a big kid. your sister cannot take care of that stuff on her own. and you can take care of it for her, too-- sometimes, mostly-- but the thing you're never sure how to handle is the questions. you don't know how to answer her when she wonders why you're doing these things instead of dad. you don't want her to worry. and so the best way to make sure she doesn't ask questions and doesn't worry is to make her laugh.

you get really, really good at making your sister laugh.

you get really, really good at feeling like the best way you can contribute to any situation is making ANYONE laugh, because then it's not as bleak. taking care of Ruby doesn't get to be something you count as "good at," because it's non-negotiable, and it has to happen so you make it happen. but you refuse to let it be a burden. it's going to be fun. you find a way to make it fun, for her.

but.

You are Ruby Rose, and your mother is gone. Your dad and your uncle both love you and you know that, but there are a thousand little things that they never do for you-- a thousand little things that your sister always does for you, instinctively, automatically, without you ever having to wonder about it. it takes a long time for you to realize this is not how things are maybe supposed to be, which is what she wanted.

it is not, you begin to realize as you get older, what she NEEDED.

the more you grow up, the more it dawns on you just how much Yang has taken onto her plate that she had absolutely no right volunteering herself for at such a young age. and you cannot tell your sister that she doesn't need to do these things-- because she'll never believe you or listen to you, for one, but also because she does need to do these things, for another. someone has to take care of you. you're not naive enough to say that's not true.

but what you can do is make yourself as easy to take care of as humanly possible.

mostly, this is not hard. you really don't need a lot. 90% of the time, give you a hug and a cookie and you're good to go! but for the 10% of the time when it doesn't feel like enough, you make it be enough. you make sure it's not a problem. because Yang's already given everything for you. so you laugh at her jokes, and you make sure your smiles come easily, because. she can't think she's screwing this up. she's not screwing this up, she's amazing, she's your favorite person. the least you can do is make her job a little easier, right?

you get really, really good at reassuring your sister that no matter what, you're going to be okay.

you get really, really good at convincing yourself that if you stop finding a way to believe everything's going to be okay, nothing will ever be okay again.

everything that the sisters are going to be wrestling with in the Ever After are things they have been dealing with since the very beginning. Yang has always sublimated her own needs for Ruby; Ruby has always sublimated her own needs for Yang. humor and cheerfulness has always been the vehicle for that sublimation. each has been painting on a smile for the other for YEARS.

and so I can't categorize Yang being aggressively silly ("high five? high five?") right now as a reaction to Ruby's implosion in the same way that, say, Blake's willingness to take on decision-making is a one to one reaction to Ruby faltering, because Yang isn't reacting. at least, not as though this is novel. this is what Yang has ALWAYS done. there's no way of extracting it from the rest of her personality in any way; it's baked in.

but the opposite is true, too: Ruby only got that way in the first place so Yang could take the W and feel like she was getting it right. which isn't to say she was lying, because she wasn't, but. Ruby's optimism was always a conscious choice she made, rather than a naive trust in the goodness of the world.

it's not sustainable when it's non-negotiable and you're never allowed to show weakness or fear

and no one's gonna be allowed across that cloud bridge or through that tree until they've dealt with that.

#rwby #leah watches rwby #yang xiao long #ruby rose #the sisters strq

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ssadumba55 · 1 year

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Sixth Spirit (Mentor!Elsa x Fem!Niece!Reader)

Request: Hi,so I was wondering if there was a thing that could write. So I read Being Kristoff and Annas Daughter and I was wondering if you could do a full story with 1000+ words. Like they have a daughter and when she turns 13, she starts displaying stuff and before that, Elsa has a dream of there being another spirit, a spirit that is one with al lelements but is most strong in dark and light, goes with being able to bend it. Daughter gets freaked when this happens,and they seek help, which they find in the boy that she has been bethrothed to, and he is the only way she keeps in control. Elsa mentor stuff.Ty!

Elsa was trying not to panic, but that’s always easier said than done. Ever since she’d had that dream it’s consumed her waking thoughts. She paced the floor, caught up in her thoughts until she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Elsa, if the dream is worrying you this much, maybe we should go see your sister-”

“She has enough to deal with, ruling the kingdom, raising (Y/n). Why worry her over a silly dream? We don’t even know if it will come to fruition, I’ve never had dreams that tell the future before…” She rubbed her arms, trying to calm herself down but the uneasy feeling refused to chase itself down.

Honeymaren wasn’t convinced, she could tell this dream was eating Elsa up from the inside but she was strong. She’d never admit it.

The two sat in silence for a while. The uneasy feeling seemed to grow in the silence between them, but neither wanted to address it.

Finally, Elsa got to her feet. “Perhaps you’re right though, even if I don’t want to burden her with my problems, in the past Anna has always played a big part in helping me figure these things out. And even if she offers no assistance, it will be nice to see my niece again.”

There was a determined look on her face, the kind of look she got when she was resolute in her decision. It was nice to see a little of the regular Elsa after she’d been stressing for weeks, consumed completely in her own anxieties.

She bid Honeymaren good night, after promising she wouldn’t leave the next day before she was able to be seen off. Returning to her own space for the night, she didn’t actually end up sleeping but it was nice to worry and stress in peace. Tomorrow, she’d see her sister and figure out this dream once and for all. Tonight, she decided as she settled in for the night, she could rest easy knowing a solution would soon be worked out.

Meanwhile in Arendelle, there was quite a stir being made. The princess was turning thirteen years old and there was to be quite the party for it. Not only was everyone excited to celebrate the princess’ birth, but tonight would be the first night she would meet her betrothed. The prince of the Southern Isles, the union was supposed to form an alliance between the two kingdoms and finally put to rest any ill will between them caused by Hans many moons ago.

Although Queen Anna and King Kristoff were firm believers in true love and the power it possesses, they were also realists who had to do the best for the kingdom. All things aside, the prince was said to be quite a catch, a gentleman and it stood to reason that the two might eventually fall in love anyway. If not, Anna always reasoned they could call off the betrothal. But for now, keeping the peace and upholding tradition seemed to be the way to go.

(Y/n) certainly never complained. Maybe it was because her head had been filled with stories of true love since she was a child, or maybe she was just very open minded, whatever the case she was eager to meet the prince. Even if they didn’t immediately hit it off and fall in love, surely he would provide decent companionship. It was hard for a princess to make friends. There was no one in the castle her age and the townsfolk were nice, but they would never understand the struggles and day to day issues a young princess had to go through.

A prince was a worthy friend, which is why she was currently pacing her room, fretting over what she would wear. There were a lot of options and she was freaking out. Maybe a little more than she needed to.

“Mom!” She called down the hallway, desperate for some aid from someone other than her servants. They only told her what she wanted to hear, she needed someone to tell her as it is. But it seemed the Queen was currently occupied with something else because there was no reply from the rest of the castle.

She began to pace once more and her servant, a kind lady named Lucille bowed her head. “If you give me a moment, princess, I can go find the Queen for you and bring her back.”

“Would you, please? I could really use her help! Thank you so much, Lucille. I’m sorry for being such a hassle.”

The woman chuckled as she made her way to the door, shaking her head. “You’re never a hassle, princess. This is nothing your mother and her mother never had to deal with. It’s the curse of royalty, I’m afraid. Too many clothes, never know what to wear.”

She left the child alone in her chambers to continue to pace while she waited. After dressing, she’d have to worry about her hair and then she needed to find the perfect shoes and the party was starting in an hour so if she wasn’t ready by then guests would start to wonder-

As her thoughts began to spiral, the lights in the room flickered. Too consumed in her own mind she didn’t notice until too late every lamp in the room turned blindingly bright and promptly went out. The young girl shrieked, now standing in pitch darkness in her undergarments.

The sound of the door opening a moment later startled her and tears began to slide down her cheeks.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)? What happened? Why is it so dark in here?”

The sound of her mother’s voice was a relief and she waited as someone scurried about relighting the lights in the room. When the light had returned, she realized her mother and Lucille weren’t the only ones who had come. Her father, probably hearing her shriek, was standing in the door looking slightly breathless. And at her mother’s side was-

“Aunt Elsa!” She squealed, running to hug her. Momentarily the fear she had just felt was forgotten as she hugged her aunt, not having expected her to come all this way just for her birthday. She was a busy woman, after all, her mother constantly reminded her. Being a nature spirit was hard work and demanded a lot of attention.

Her aunt's arms wrapped around her and she was momentarily shocked by how cold she was. It was funny, sometimes she did in fact feel warm and other times, she felt cold as ice. Usually when she was upset or excited and unable to control her powers.

Kristoff cleared his throat, clearly still worried. “I heard you shriek though, is everything alright?”

Suddenly, all at once the memories of before came rushing back, startling the poor princess. She looked around the room searching for something that could’ve made the lights react the way they did, but save for the occupants in the room now, nothing was out of place.

“I was just… worried about getting ready for the party and suddenly the lights went out…”

The adults all exchanged looks, but their expressions were unreadable. After a few moments, Anna and Elsa stepped into motion helping the young girl finish getting ready while Lucille and Kristoff returned to the hustle and bustle elsewhere in the castle.

Neither Anna or Elsa said anything as they helped her get into her dress for the evening’s festivities. It was quite obvious, however, that they were thinking something as they shared looks over her head out of eyeshot of the teenager.

There was so much going on though, that eventually the two sisters settled into helping out and forgot all about the weird occurrence. After all, it was a one time thing, right?

As (Y/N) would soon find out, this was in fact wrong.

The prince she was to be betrothed to would be arriving to the party late. The Southern Isles were a great distance from Arendelle, so it was to be expected that they wouldn’t arrive exactly on time but the longer he took the more nervous the princess became.

It started as little things, the lights flickered, the water in her cup danced, the plants decorating the ballroom seemed to move as if on their own… It was only once her water cup completely froze as she stood watching her parents dance did she realize that all of these things were related. Even worse than them being related though, they could all be traced back to her. She was the origin of them.

She dropped her glass on the table as if it were hot coals. Beside her, Aunt Elsa raised an eyebrow.

“I- I need some air…”

“(Y/n)...”

“I’ll be back I swear!”

She collapsed on the fountain in the courtyard, stomach dropping. No one else was around. Studying her hands, she reached a tentative finger out to touch the water in the fountain. It froze under her touch, in much the same way her aunt’s powers did.

No matter how hard she tried though, unlike her Aunt Elsa, she couldn’t unfreeze it. The more she panicked, chest tightening, frustration building the more things around her started to go haywire. The lanterns that were lit blinked and flickered, the trees and bushes moved, a wind was starting to pick up.

“I hope it’s alright, your aunt told me I might find you out here.”

All at once everything stopped, returning to the way it had been forever. All except the fountain, of course. She turned, surprised that someone else was here.

He stepped up to the fountain beside her.

“I’m William. You know, of the Southern Isles. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

He was handsome, it reminded the girl of the stories her mother and aunt used to tell her about how her parents had met. A man named Hans, broad shoulders, fiery red hair, a kind smile. She could see some of him in William. The hair, the broad shoulders. That’s where the similarities ended, after all Hans was his uncle. Not closely enough related to actually contribute to his genetics. Most of the family must have red hair and broad shoulders.

As if suddenly remembering her manners, she performed a clumsy curtsy.

“Princess (Y/n) of Arendelle.”

“Happy birthday…” He smiled awkwardly. The two teens fell into an uncomfortable silence. He pointed to the fountain after a few moments. “Did your aunt do this?”

Elsa’s reputation preceded her. Almost everyone who knew of Arendelle knew of the magical once queen who could create ice and snow. The young princess didn’t know how to respond. This was supposed to be a boy who would be her friend, on one hand she didn’t want to lie to him… on the other hand, would he want to be friends if he knew what she could do? What she had only just figured out she could do?

She painstakingly wracked her brain for the right answer.

“Promse you won’t tell anyone?”

“I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

She studied his face for a hint of the deceit that his uncle had once shown her mother, but she found nothing. Well, there was nothing really to lose from this then anyway.

“It was me. I think I’ve got my own set of powers, they’ve been causing me trouble all night. I didn’t even realize it was me until… just now. I froze the fountain… but I can’t figure out how to unfreeze it.”

William didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He leant over the fountain, touching the ice with his fingers, thoughtfully.

“Well, how does your aunt do it?”

“I don’t know, I never asked her.”

Gently he placed his hand over hers, meeting her eyes to make sure it was alright before placing her hand on the ice. She had never really been this close to someone her age before, the thought made her feel a little warm. One day, if she chose to, she might end up marrying him. When she’d first heard of the idea, she’d been a little skeptical albeit excited for a friend. Now though she could see it. His hand was sturdy, guiding.

“Look!” He cried out in elation, and it was only then that she realized she was no longer touching ice under her fingers but water. The water danced and moved a bit unnaturally under her fingertips. “How are you doing that?”

“I don’t know!” The two teens sat and watched the water under her fingertips for a few moments. It was only after they got over the initial shock of the ice melting that he realized he was still holding her hand. Quickly, he pulled it away, cheeks heating up.

The water stopped it’s mesmerizing dance once he did so and the sound of footsteps, snapped them both back to reality.

Elsa, Anna and Kristoff had snuck away from the party to check on the princess. And they’d arrived just in time to witness the entire scene of the ice melting. There was more than a little shock. Standing there in the courtyard, Elsa revealed the real reason she had come back to Arendelle, the strange vision she’d had about a sixth spirit.

The sixth spirit could wield the powers of all the elements, earth, air, fire, water and snow, plus the dark and the light. She admitted she’d suspected her niece from the moment the lights had gone out in her chambers hours prior, but hadn’t been for certain until she’d seen the glass.

“I’m a spirit!?” She backed away from the rest of the group. “I can’t control them! I’m dangerous! What if-”

Her aunt gently placed a hand on her shoulder, tilting her chin so she’d look up at her. “My parents, your grandparents, hid my powers. They taught me they were something to be feared and ashamed of. But they’re not a burden, they’re a gift. One you should be proud of. I promise I’ll teach you how to use them properly. Your parents and I won’t let you hurt anyone.”

“This doesn’t change a thing about you, you’re still the same person. And we’ll get through this, as a family.” Anna assured her daughter. There was assent from Kristoff at her side.

Behind them, William cleared his throat. The small family had forgotten he was even there, he had blended so well into the background. “If I may, I would also like to stick around and help. If that’s okay.”

She looked around at all the people she cared about, even if one was a work in progress. With people like this by her side, she realized, the journey would still be a long one but she could face it. She definitely wouldn’t be doing so alone.

“Come on, there’s still a party and powers or not, you’re still a birthday girl. Tomorrow, we can get down to business.” Elsa guided her niece back in the direction of the castle. William grinned.

“If you’re up for it, I could go for a dance.”

“Alright, but be warned, I have two left feet.”

Elsa watched as the prince guided the girl to the dance floor, their animated chatter could be heard even through all the hubbub of the party around them. Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest.

“They grow up so fast don’t they?” He asked, the tone of a bittersweet father watching his baby grow up.

“Yeah… They do.” Elsa smiled.

As the girl apologized profusely for stepping on her suitors toes for the third time, much to his amusement and delight, she couldn’t help but be thankful. She had been given the miracle and gift of guiding someone along this wonderful path, her niece wouldn’t be alone like she had. She’d be surrounded by people who loved her, cared for her.

And when the time came, she’d make a wonderful ruler of Arendelle, just like her mother before her. Elsa was sure of it.

#frozen imagine #elsa imagine #elsa x reader #disney imagine #female reader #female imagine

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