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Napoleonville [Chapter 10: The House Of Saint Honoratus of Amiens] [Series Finale]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, weddings, Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, Rice-A-Roni.

Word Count: 6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @bungalowbear @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Thank you so much for loving this strange, sexy, sweet story. I hope you enjoy the finale. 🥰🧁

Your bare feet in warm grass, your hands around the ropes of the tree swing, no sounds except the ancient psalms of the earth: cicadas, mourning doves, goldfinches, bumble bees, bullfrogs, wind in the leaves of the dogwoods and southern live oaks. The adolescent alligator is at one end of the front yard, sunbathing up by the mouth of the gravel driveway; in the opposite corner are several nutria nibbling on cattails. The sky is a calm, cloudless blue. It’s hot, mid-80s, even when 5:00 p.m. comes and goes; but the breeze is cool as it evaporates the sweat from your temples, your palms, the nape of your neck. It’s as close as Louisiana ever gets to Heaven. It’s a good day for a wedding.

You remember thinking that it was the end of the world when you found out you were pregnant almost exactly eleven years ago, and then again when you realized you would have to divorce Willis, and so you have lived through enough moments like this—these quiet, infinitesimal apocalypses—to know that there will be a future beyond Aemond marrying Christabel. The sun will rise tomorrow, and then it will set, the lightning bugs will appear and the stars will tell myths in the night sky, and the phone will ring as orders come in for the bakery, and Cadi will be back in her bedroom playing her Nintendo, and life will roll on like currents through the bayou: slow, opaque, inevitable. The world isn’t ending, you know that. It’s just full of beautiful things that aren’t for you.

Out on Route 401, a Plymouth Gran Fury zooms by the house, squeals to a halt, and then reverses until Willis can take another look, squinting through his tinted windows. He turns down the driveway and steps out into golden July daylight. He doesn’t pay any attention to the gator as he strides past her. He belongs here, in a place that is old and strange and savage and full of beasts. You have carved out a home for yourself in the swamplands; Willis was born with veins like the roots of a mangrove tree and ancient silt instead of marrow in his bones.

“Hey, sugar,” he says, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. The wind ruffles the dark curls of his mullet, the bumble bees flee as he tramples clovers. “Ain’t ya supposed to be at the weddin’?”

“I’m sick.” A lie. “But Cadi’s fine, she’s with Amir. She was so excited she actually wore one of the sundresses my mom bought her and had Amir braid a dogwood flower into her hair to match his. You should have seen it. You would’ve been so proud.”

“I’m always proud of her,” Willis says, smiling. And then: “Ya don’t look sick.”

“I am.”

“Ya got one of your headaches?”

You pause. You don’t, but this is a convenient excuse. “Yeah.”

Willis stalls, his hands on his belt. His pistol is there; you remember how he used it in the bayou, how he helped save your life. But he wasn’t the one who jumped into the water. Aemond was willing to risk his body for me, but not his soul. What kind of sense does that make? “Ya had me scared for a minute there,” Willis says.

“What? When?”

“When I thought ya were goin’ to end up with that Rockefeller boy.”

“Aemond?” you say, like it’s so shocking. “No. Absolutely not. It’s impossible.”

“And why’s that?”

You stare into the trees so Willis can’t see the tears welling up in your eyes, the tension in your throat as embers kindle there, pulsing with heat that could char flesh to the bone. “He can’t marry someone like me.”

“I could,” Willis replies, grinning. You glare at him until he recants. “Alright, alright, oublie ça. Pardonne-moi.”

“Why would you be afraid of me and Aemond being together?”

“An oil tycoon? A millionaire? He would never stay here for long. In a town like Napoleonville? Soon as he was done getting’ those rigs up and runnin’, he’d go jettin’ off to some other corner of the world, and he’d take you with him. And Cadi too. I wouldn’t be able to fight that. What’s a parish sheriff to a Targaryen? Who would listen to me? Cadi would be gone and I’d never get her back. It would kill me. It would rip the heart right outta my chest.”

You look up at Willis from where you sit on the tree swing, the soles of your feet colored with soil and grass. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” he asks, perhaps suspicious, perhaps hopeful.

“No,” you promise. “Cadi loves you. Cadi needs you to be in her life. I would never try to take her away from you, Willis.”

He nods; he seems to believe you. And something relaxes in him, like there’s been a tension in the lines of his spine and shoulders that you didn’t notice for years. “I’m sorry about your petit ami.”

“Yeah. Me too.” It comes out like a whisper, brittle and frail. “I’m sorry about Lake Verret.”

“They might be able to fix it. Talk around town is they got some kind of desalination”—he says this with each syllable enunciated distinctly, like he’s put great effort into memorizing it—“process that can take the salt back outta the water. And if that don’t work…” He shrugs with a sly smile. “I’ll survive somehow. The world’s a big place. There’s always another lake.”

You consider him, and you remember—like a dream from the night before that just returned to you—how Willis can be unexpectedly deep, randomly tender. “They should put that on bumper stickers.”

He chuckles and waves as he heads back to his car. “I’ll pick Cadi up on Tuesday. Back to the usual schedule.”

“Sure.” Back to real life. Back to before I met Aemond. And you find yourself wishing that you could forget what it had felt like to be with him; the absence he left feels so much heavier than the nonspecific longing that existed before. Willis’ Plymouth Gran Fury rolls out of the driveway, and you stay precisely where you are on the tree swing, absentmindedly pushing yourself back and forth with your tiptoes and trying to believe that tomorrow this will feel easier, and then even easier the day after that, and eventually it will cease to be anything but a vague recollection, a relic in a rarely-opened drawer, a whisper, an echo. One day, you will stop missing Aemond. One day, you will stop wondering whether a sliver of his life would have been better than none at all.

Inside what Cadi calls the Fall-Down House, the phone rings. You ignore it; if it’s an order for the bakery, they can leave a message. But then it rings again, and again, and you have to answer it. What if your mother had a heart attack? What if Cadi and Amir were in a car accident? You hurry to the kitchen and grab the phone, pink to match the little Panasonic boombox that is presently silent.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiiiii,” Amir says, slow and something else too. Disoriented? Evasive?

Your forehead wrinkles with confusion. “Where are you calling from?” There are definitely no phonelines running to the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens, a tiny brick-and-stucco edifice built in the 1830s.

“I’m at a McDonald’s up the road. I’ve paid them $5 to let me use the phone.” And then, because he knows it’s the first place your mind will go: “Cadi’s fine. She’s eating Chicken McNuggets. Everyone’s fine.”

“Okay…?”

“I think you should come over here.”

“What, to the chapel?!”

“Yeah.” He’s talking to someone; you can hear an indistinct tangle of voices through the hand he undoubtedly has clasped over the transmitter.

I can’t see Aemond. I can’t see Christabel. There is a lurching in your guts; you are a fish that swallowed a hook. “I thought we agreed that I wasn’t going to go to the wedding.” I can’t handle it. It might kill me.

“Yes, we did, but now…um…I think you will want to make an appearance.”

“Amir, what happened?”

There is more muffled conversation on the other end of the line. “Look,” he tells you. “Things, uh…things are…occurring. And I think it would be better to explain in person.”

“Did you drop the cake?”

“No,” he says, defensive. “The cake is perfect, thank you for your concern. Not a single frosting wildflower was mutilated in the delivery.”

“Then why—?”

“Do you trust me?” Amir asks.

The answer is obvious. Of course. More than anyone. “You know I do.”

“Then go get in your car.”

You glance at the clock on the wall. “Okay, but you know it’s going to take me like 40 minutes to drive to Belle River.”

“That’s fine.” He confers with someone else. “Yeah, that’s good actually, that will work.”

“Great,” you say uncertainly.

“See you soon!” Then Amir hangs up, leaving you alone in the creaks and groans of your ailing house.

You take Route 70 around Lake Verret, gliding past fields of soybeans and sugarcane, paddocks of cattle and horses, marshes of cordgrass occupied by blue herons and white egrets and prowling alligators, stirring awake as the sun begins its descent into the west. More than once, you notice that your Chevy Celebrity’s odometer reports you are travelling well below the speed limit. You aren’t in any hurry to reach the chapel; you don’t want to carry the weight of what you will see there, Christabel in her wedding dress, Aemond in his suit, Alicent anxiously fidgeting and gnawing at her fingernails, Viserys parading around triumphantly. You can’t imagine that there is anything less than torturous for you there. You don’t remember what you’re wearing until you reach Belle River, a small, old town full of double-wide trailers and jetties that run far out into the lake: a simple cotton sundress you threw on this morning without much thought, modest but white and therefore forbidden for a wedding guest. The sky is turning from a sun-drenched cerulean blue to something more soft, more muted, as dusk lurks just a few hours away. The radio is playing Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car.

The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens was built by a man in extremis. An acclaimed mason by trade, he had been born in France and settled in the New World in Louisiana when it was still in the possession of Napoleon. The mason had a wife and children—some people say 5, others say 8 or 10, though details always seem to grow more elaborate in the retelling, don’t they?—and he loved them dearly. But tragedy struck when every single member of the family, except for the mason himself, fell ill with tuberculosis. When healers of the earth failed to offer sufficient remedies, the mason appealed to a higher power. He built the chapel to implore Honoratus of Amiens, his wife’s favorite saint—she was a baker and a florist, both professions that Honoratus presides over—to intercede with the Almighty on their behalf. This effort proved futile, and as each member of the family died, the mason interred them in a brick vault beneath the altar where they would spend eternity together. Perhaps this makes for a peculiar wedding venue, yet for over a century couples rich and poor, religious and secular have traveled to the chapel to exchange their vows. Perhaps there are few things more romantic than loving someone in the face of total futility: illness, distance, unrequitedness, prohibitions, death.

The chapel sits in a clearing surrounded by live oak trees, massive, hundreds of years old, hanging with Spanish moss, blotting out the sunlight as aisles cascade through gaps in the leaves. As you park in the grass—joining an army of Lexuses, Audis, limousines, Porsches, Ferraris, Cadillacs, Aston Martins, Alfa Romeos, and Amir’s blue Ford Escort—you observe that there are perhaps fifty guests in formal attire milling aimlessly around the building. You peer down at your white sundress, frowning. Well, I can’t go naked. The faux pas will have to be forgiven. You step out of your Chevy Celebrity and make your way across the clearing towards the chapel.

There is a long table set up in the shade with a tower of champagne glasses, an ice sculpture of a dragon, and the banana bread cake you and Amir baked for the wedding. Grim-faced servants in black suits are cutting slices and handing them out to guests on green china plates. You recognize Aegon’s wife Stephanie chatting with a flock of young women in extravagant gowns, golds and emeralds and sapphires. Helaena is among them, wearing a shimmering blue-green color like the scales of her chameleon Dreamfyre. Evidently, the Targaryens’ exotic pets have been left at the mansion for this excursion.

“Well,” the princess of Monaco says sardonically as she takes a bite, the white cream cheese frosting covered with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers. “At least the cake is good. What is this, banana? Whoever heard of a banana wedding cake? I mean, it’s delicious, but still. I knew that Christabel girl was daft. Did you see her positively absurd dress? It looks like children doodled all over it…”

Is it over? you think as you weave through the crowd, largely unnoticed. Is the ceremony done already? Why would Aemond want to see me? To try to convince me to be his mistress one last time? To show me what I’m missing by severing ties with him?

But no: something else has happened. Viserys and Christabel’s father the marquess are embroiled in a heated argument; a nun and two priests are trying to haul them apart.

“You’re dead to me, Viserys!” the marquess roars. “And you’ll be dead to everyone back home once I tell them what you’ve done!”

“I did my part! This has nothing to do with me! Wait…wait…we can figure something else out! Wait! Wait! You can have Daeron!”

Wedding guests are gawking and snapping photos with their polaroid cameras. Upon hearing his name, Daeron glances over towards his father wearily. Alicent’s youngest son is kneeling beside where she has collapsed to the grass, patting her encouragingly on the shoulder as she sobs into a green cloth handkerchief. Criston is there too, trying to soothe her with sympathetic murmurs and a flute of pink champagne glittering with bubbles of carbonation.

“How did this happen?” she wails, peering up at Criston with her vast, dark, glassy eyes. The gold rings on her fingers clang and glint; they match the single hoop earring that Criston wears. Alicent’s gown is purple like royalty, but Criston is dressed in a suit of pale pink; it’s the exact same one Daeron has on. Groomsmen? you wonder. “He knows better than this! We raised him better than this!”

You think, stunned and petrified: Aemond, what the hell did you do?

As you approach the chapel, you note that it appears empty inside; you don’t spot anyone in the pews. Somewhere, a boombox is thundering Higher Love. At the entrance of the building, Christabel is sitting on the brick walkway in her wedding dress. It’s the one you told her to choose: elegant and timeless, long train and short flowing sleeves, silk wildflowers sewn into the white lace. Her bouquet is lying forgotten on the ground beside her. Her lips are a deep, lovely pink; her eyeshadow is gold. She’s smoking, something you’ve never seen her do before. There is a half-crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter in her left hand, a single lit cigarette in her right.

“Um, hi, Christabel,” you say. And then, something equally brainless: “Is everything okay?”

“I should have known.” She’s staring out at the crowd, not at you. Her large blue eyes are dull, vacant.

“You should have known what?” Your heart is in your throat; blood pounds in your ears like the hooves of a racehorse.

“That he didn’t care,” she says listlessly. “I could tell that he didn’t. I could feel it. But I didn’t want it to be true, so I told myself it wasn’t. Isn’t that interesting? How we can lie to ourselves? Not that it was entirely my error. Other people meddled plenty. ‘Oh no, Christabel.’ ‘He’s just emotionally stunted, Christabel.’ ‘He’s busy with work, Christabel.’ What man is too busy with work to handle a five-minute phone call? It’s not like he was on the moon. He could have made time if he wanted to. I bet he made lots of time for you.”

“Uh.” You try to decide what to say. “I broke up with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t want to be his mistress. I didn’t think that was fair to you.” Or me, obviously, but right now doesn’t seem to be the opportune time to voice my own grievances.

“Next time, I’m going to choose who I marry,” Christabel insists, puffing on her cigarette. “He has to talk to me. He has to like me.”

Aemond called it off? What did he say? What is he going to do now? “Christabel…do you know where Aemond is? Or Amir and Cadi?”

“Alicent is so upset,” she says instead. “Poor woman. She’s sweet, in her own way. But I don’t want to end up like her.” Christabel holds up the pack of Marlboros and the lighter. “She feels guilty, I think. She gave me these. She had them in her purse, she has so many neurotic little habits, doesn’t she? It’s not very ladylike to smoke, but it’s not ladylike to get left at the altar either, so fuck it.”

You ask, afraid to know the answer: “Do you hate me? I didn’t know Aemond was engaged when I met him. And then…” Why lie now? What’s the point? “Then I was in love with him and it was kind of…too late to try not to be. But I’m sorry.”

“I don’t hate you,” Christabel replies immediately. “I know he would never be allowed to marry…someone like you. Your options were limited.”

You don’t know if this is meant to be an insult or not. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think I ever loved him either,” Christabel realizes, exhaling smoke. “I think I idolized him. I think I loved my fantasy of what our marriage would be like. But I didn’t love Aemond. I didn’t even know Aemond. You did, I suspect. Good luck with him. He’s a bit…complex.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, rather compulsively. You aren’t sure what she expects from you. Abruptly, from wherever it’s coming from, Higher Love is cut off. “So, is Aemond, like…around, or…?”

“I don’t regret the sex part.”

“Okay.” You examine the crowd in the clearing again. You still don’t see Aemond.

“That went well,” Christabel muses. “I’m glad my first time is over and done with. I was terrified it would hurt like hell. And so few people know, so it’s almost like it never happened, right?”

“Right,” you say obediently.

“I think I’ll have a new rule. I won’t marry anyone unless he likes me and we sleep together first. Life is too long to spend it with the wrong person, don’t you agree?”

“I totally do.”

“He’s waiting for you inside,” Christabel says, flicking ashes towards the gaping doorway of the chapel.

“Really?” you peer into the shadows; there is indeed a solitary figure standing at the altar. “So…what exactly is happening…?”

“Go,” Christabel urges, and takes a drag on her cigarette. You leave her and cross through the doorway into the chapel.

The light is dim and gentle; fading sunbeams slant in through the glass of the cathedral-style windows. The mason’s inspiration was Gothic architecture, imposing, cavernous. Two candlelit iron chandeliers hang from the high ceiling; the floor is made of tiles of black and white marble. Small stone sculptures of angels watch over their realm like benevolent gargoyles. There is a single stained glass window above the altar: circular like a ring, red and gold like the sun.

He’s waiting for you in a pale pink suit, long disheveled hair, thin mustache with flecks of white powder in it, mischievous smirk. “Hey cake lady,” Aegon says.

“Um. I’m not marrying you.”

“No, you’re definitely not.” Aegon offers you his hand and you take it with some hesitation. “I’m here to be your guide. Just like on the Oregon Trail.”

“What…?”

“Let’s go.” He pulls you out of the chapel, past where Christabel is still sitting at the entranceway, and across the clearing towards the trees. When you look to the crowd, Otto is elbowing his way through disgruntled guests towards a limousine, already idling.

Viserys bellows at him: “Where the hell are you going?!”

“Back to Kiribati!” Otto shouts back, not breaking his stride. He vanishes into the limo.

“Hurry,” Aegon says. He leads you into the forest, a thick canopy of verdant leaves and Spanish moss and the narrow rays of sunshine that tumble down through the gaps.

“Aegon, I don’t think we should be in the woods, it could be dangerous—”

“No, this part is fine. We already checked.”

“Who’s ‘we’?!” You’re wearing flip flops that catch on gnarled roots; the shrieking of cicadas grows loud. One of them buzzes towards Aegon and he screams as he backhands it away.

“You good?” Amir’s voice calls from farther within the trees.

“Yeah. I’m fine. We made it.”

You turn to Aegon. “What’s going on—?”

Suddenly, there is booming music that startles you: “Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth! They say in Heaven, love comes first, we’ll make Heaven a place on Earth! Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth!”

“Aegon, what is that?”

“Uh, I think it’s Heaven Is A Place On Earth.”

“Yes, okay, but why?”

“Ask that guy.” You round a thicket and there under a colossal southern live oak tree, surrounded by hundred-year-old branches that twist down to the earth, is Aemond; but he’s not looking at you. He and Cadi are lighting the last of the candles. She picks them up, he ignites the wick with the same lighter he uses to smoke his Marlboros, and then Cadi places them back on the ground or on top of a branch. Amir is standing by the large black boombox, the same one Aegon always listens to by the Targaryens’ pool. Amir grins craftily, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. His suit is orange, the single dogwood flower in his hair white.

“Did we get them all?” Aemond asks Cadi.

“Yeah, I think so. Wait, no, there’s one over there!” Cadi darts to it and Aemond lights the candle, then spins around and sees you. He smiles. “Hi, Cupcake.”

“Hi,” you say, so shellshocked you can’t form any of your very vital questions.

“Okay, so we have the candles,” Aemond informs you as Cadi and Aegon go to join Amir. “White with wildflower patterns.” And you recall how Alicent mentioned needing to pick out candles with Christabel, and how you didn’t see any scattered around the chapel. They brought them here. They did it for me. “And we have some actual wildflowers.” He takes the boutonniere off the lapel of his white suit and tucks it into your hair behind your left ear. “And we have Heaven Is A Place On Earth.” He gestures to the boombox. “And I think those were the three things you said you wanted if you were ever going to get married again.”

I did say that. Just once, months ago, the first time he ever came over, the first time he ever touched me. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered.” He takes both of your hands in his own. Amir lets out a little squeal and covers his mouth as his eyes begin to glisten. Aemond takes a deep breath. “So, I don’t have a speech, because this is very last-minute. I mean extremely last-minute. But you were right about everything. And I realized I couldn’t live that way. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me, but it wouldn’t be fair to Christabel either. So I broke it off.”

“Literally at the altar,” Aegon says. “In front of everybody. It was so fucking awkward.”

“Those are not necessary details!” Aemond snaps, then looks back to you and is smiling again. “I know what I want. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known you. But I wasn’t a strong enough person to make it happen. I’m so sorry. I should have done things differently. I can’t change the past. But everything is going to be different now.”

You gaze up at him as Belinda Carlisle sings, thinking: This can’t be real. I’m going to wake up now.

“On the night we met, you told me you’d never felt chosen,” Aemond says. “I’m choosing you. And, you know.” He nods to her. “Cadi too. And Amir. And the bakery. And dealing with Willis too, I guess. All of it. I’m choosing you and your whole life and that’s exactly where I want to be.”

You can feel the warmth in your face, beaming and hopeful and full of possibilities. Under the shade of the southern live oak, the first lightning bugs are blooming in the air like stars. “What about your family?”

“I’ll figure it out. I don’t think my father can entirely disown me…turns out I’m the only one who understands how the stock market works. But no matter what, you and Cadi are the priority. And my father will have to learn to live with that.”

“Or he can drop dead,” Aegon says. “Whichever.”

It’s possible? We can be together? Not just for a night, an afternoon, a stolen moment, but forever?

“I said I don’t have a speech.” Aemond tells you. His right eye is bright, elated, gleaming like a mirror. “I don’t have a ring either. But I’m going to get you one, if you’ll let me. So I’m asking you, Cupcake: Will you marry me?”

“Say yes, Mom!” Cadi yells, and Amir bursts out laughing.

“Say yes, cake lady!” Aegon adds. “Unlimited Cap’n Crunch Treats!”

When am I going to wake up? When is this going to end?

But it’s not a dream. It’s real. And Aemond reads the answer on your face before you can say it, and so it’s only a murmur as he kisses you, a whisper, a prayer: “Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you drive from the new house all the way to San Francisco; you still call it the new house, even though you’ve owned it for a full year. The journey takes seven days, with overnight stops in Dallas, Wonderland Amusement Park in Amarillo, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Las Vegas, and Bakersfield. Aemond sold his Audi Quattro and replaced it with a Dodge Caravan. It’s July 1989, and Tom Petty’s brand new single Runnin’ Down A Dream is strumming from the radio. It’s always temperate in San Fran, in the 60s even at the height of summer. The sky is overcast and grey. When Cadi complains that she’s cold despite the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles hoodie you packed for her, Aemond gives her his Marlboro jacket.

Amir, his boyfriend, and two other roommates share a sunshine yellow Italianate townhouse in the Castro District. Aemond parks his wood-paneled Caravan on the steep, inclined street—he narrowly misses colliding with a whooshing cable car, which he blames on poor depth perception—and then helps you carry the luggage inside. There are no alligators on the front porch, but there are neighborhood cats that Amir puts out Friskies for; there are no screaming cicadas, but there are swooping seagulls and the melodies of sidewalk musicians. When Amir opens the door, he nearly tackles you with enthusiasm. He still wears his loud colors and short shorts, but he’s traded in the dogwood flowers he once wove into his hair for dahlias.

Amir’s boyfriend is named Don, but everyone calls him Donald Schwarzenegger because he looks so much like the Austrian bodybuilder turned actor. When Amir first arrived in the city, he got a job as a cake decorator for a very popular bakery, and quickly segued into handling much of their marketing as well. He’s thinking of getting a degree in advertising and trying his luck in corporate America. You very much enjoy teasing him for being a sellout; what would socialist Bayard Rustin say?

“Call your Daddy and let him know we made it safely to the West Coast,” you tell Cadi once her things are unpacked in the guest room she’ll get all to herself; you and Aemond are consigned to the living room futon. Cadi chats with Willis for a while, then says he wants to talk to you. You take the phone, slightly concerned; you hope nothing is amiss with the house. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with this horse?” he demands. “That ain’t no pet. That’s a demon. It’s a goddamn Rougarou.”

“I told you not to try to touch him,” you say, amused.

“I feed him and water him, don’t I? Ain’t that the least he can do? Lettin’ me scratch his big ol’ idiot head?”

“Patches is not very well-behaved. But Cadi loves him.”

“And don’t even get me started on the dog. Ugliest fuckin’ dog I ever saw. Growls every time I show up. Shows its teeth and everythin’. I’d take twenty gators over that son of a bitch any day.”

“Vhagar is a girl,” you say. “Thanks for watching them while we’re out of town.”

“Sure thing, sugar. Although I still don’t understand why the bon a rien can’t do it.”

“Aegon isn’t always…reliable.” But he does seem to be improving. He’s cut back to mostly just booze and marijuana, because otherwise he and Sunfyre aren't allowed to stay at the new house for sleepovers. There’s a guest bedroom, but Aegon prefers the sunken conversation pit in the mauve pink living room. He likes to be where anyone can stumble across him if they wake up in the middle of the night for pancakes or ice cream. He likes to be where people are; he likes to be included. “Anyway, I gotta go. Cadi will call again tomorrow. Enjoy your fishing.”

“Will do. Maybe I’ll toss your accursed animals in as bait.” Lake Verret is still a bit too brackish for a proper freshwater lake, but that’s changing gradually with Daeron’s desalination efforts and a subaquatic plug affixed to the opening of the breached salt dome. He views it as a pioneering experiment in reversing such drilling accidents, potentially for application globally. Now there are more bass and lampreys and catfish, and less breams and gars, but life goes on in Napoleonville’s 14,000-acre lake. Daeron has replaced Aemond as Viserys’ heir apparent, and he is thriving in the role. He is bookish yet empathetic, focused but never ruthless. Furthermore, he happens to be genuinely in love with his aristocratic fiancée: Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

Aemond was right; Viserys didn’t disown him, but he did fire him, ban him from the mansion, and reduce his available funds to a modest living stipend. Fortunately, Viserys has a very limited comprehension of how money works for normal people, and he considers $200,000 per year to be “modest.” With that plus your bakery earnings and a paid-off house, you, Cadi, and Aemond will be living comfortably for the remainder of your lives. Also fortunately, no one else will enforce the no-Aemond rule at The Last Desire, so anytime Viserys is out of town—which is far more often than not—you get to visit the Targaryens at the mansion as much as you please. Cadi loves the water slide and the koi pond. She’s named the fish after Greek deities, her latest obsession: Zeus, Narcissus, Athena, Dionysus, Artemis, Apollo, Echo. Viserys will not acknowledge you, but the rest of the family is polite enough now that the drama of the broken engagement has blown over. When you finish the cookbook of Southern baked goods that you’ve been working on, Alicent had pledged to mail copies to all her friends and relatives back in the U.K. Otto has offered to take a box of them with him next time he jets off for Kiribati; the wealthy housewives marooned in paradise are always on the hunt for new reading material.

On your first night in San Francisco, Amir serves a dinner of cioppino, sourdough bread, and (not homemade) Rice-A-Roni. You provide dessert, a recipe you’re still perfecting: Saint Honoratus cake, a pastry that dates back to Paris in the 1800s. You want to be able to include it in your cookbook, along with photographs from your wedding in the chapel this past May, almost exactly a year from when you and Aemond first met. Your engagement ring has a gold band and pink diamonds arranged to resemble a rockrose, a dauntless little wildflower native to Aemond’s ancestral homeland of Greece. For over a decade you have loved that wildflowers are grown and not bought, small but tenacious, humble yet untamed. They do not wait for other hands to tell them where and how to grow. They are the architects of their own fortune.

When everyone is finished with dessert and gathers around the tv to watch The Golden Girls, Aemond says he’s going outside for a smoke break; but you know he’s trying to quit. You follow him into the small backyard and as soon as your bare feet touch the grass, he’s pushed you against the wall of the house, forced your thighs apart, slipped his hand down the front of your shorts as he watches the amazed, electrified desire rise in your face like heat from a stove. “It’s been a week, and I need you,” Aemond murmurs, his lips ghosting across your throat, his hips braced insistently against yours, and then he kisses you to stifle your moans as you bury your fingers in his hair, to swallow down the vicarious ecstasy of every wondrous thing he’s ever done to you and ever will. “I don’t even need you to get me off. I just need to see you like this.”

Trusting him, wanting him, letting him make me come.

Aemond has been accepted into UC Berkeley’s History PhD program and will start there at the end of August. He wants to write books about underrecognized heroes, extraordinary and yet unassuming people like Bayard Rustin and Bobbi Campbell and Phillis Wheatley. You’ll miss him of course, but there will be breaks for holidays and summers when he can return to Napoleonville, and you can fly out to visit him too, and there are phone calls, and postcards, and one day you’ll be able to go anywhere together—

You gasp, a shaky, starving breath, your lips grinning into Aemond’s. You’re close, you’re so close.

There is a shrill whistle from the back porch of a townhouse from the row behind Amir’s. ��Get it, honey!” a man in a leopard-print robe cheers, waving the newspaper he’d been reading. You and Aemond unravel from each other, laughing hysterically.

“Okay,” you tell him, still panting. “Bad plan. We are clearly not accustomed to city life.”

“Tonight,” Aemond says, low and commanding. He returns to you, kissing the side of your face: temple, cheekbone, the curve of your jaw. His voice is dark, jagged glass; his lips are soft like kind dreams. “On the futon, on the floor, anywhere.”

You want it too, but you know the game. “No.”

He pins you to the wall again, powerful, irresistible, his hardness grinding against you through his jeans, everything about him—voice, flesh, rhythm, soul—promising you the peace only he has ever given you, proving that being at the right person’s mercy can make you free. “I’m in charge now. Let me take care of you.” And for a split second you almost beg: Just do it, Aemond, right now, please touch me again, I don’t care if a stranger sees. I want you now, I want you forever.

Instead you smile up at him, the whirls of your fingerprints skating harmlessly over his scarred left cheek as you answer: “Yes sir.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond

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raygirlramblings · 2 months

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Completely forgot I drew and coloured this pic of the adorable cow girl (no not that one the other one) from Captain Laserhawk.

This poor sweet moo had it rough. She just wanted a fun night out in her cute green hat watching a wrestling match. Instead she ended up in a violent riot where she almost got stabbed, beaten and shot and only survived because a nice pig man helped her out only to watch that same pig man get gunned down by cops right in front of her. Sweet child deserved better ;0;

Originally I had the idea she was holding a sign to support her favourite wrestler…but I couldn’t come up with a good slogan so I fall back on wishful thinking XD

The hybrid designs in this show deserve more love (except Bullfrog, he gets more than enough love already XD )

#captain laserhawk #cow girl #My arts

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asch2inspire · 6 months

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Here's some Captain Lazerhawk fanart :)

haven't seen the show, I'm being fed Spoilers (very nutritious!)

LOVE how Ray was handled, cool yet gullible. except... maybe the cow... but I expected that from him actually, given his past adverts.

I hate how he wears sleeves that don't react to his lack of Limbs, but hey, it's canon.

Also, What I want to see in season 2;

Also, him being friends with Bullfrog to take down Eden.

#captain lazerhawk #Rayman #Sketch #Fanart #Ly the Fairy #Raymesis #Ramon

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viaviv124 · 3 months

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Bullfrog Character Study and why i feel so bad for him

Did you notice that Bullfrog does not cry at all until his execution? Not when Jade died, not when Pey'j died and, to our knowledge, not while he was in jail.

When Bullfrog talked with Rayman and mentioned Pey'j's death he sounded so bitter. Yeah he probably said it to hold a mirror in front of Rayman but also i feel like at first he didn't intent to say this, that this just slipped out and he then decided to roll with it. I do not know much about Assassins Creed but i do know that he had to embody the Brotherhood's ideology of freedom, peace and equality. To my knowledge to "peace and freedom" also counts "free of vengance/hatred/bitterness" and so on because these feelings do not make you free, hence why Bullfrog tried to stop both Dolph and Pey'j from acting in vengance (allthough with Pey'j it also was so the Warden doesn't detonate the bomb). And espacially because of the survivors guilt Bullfrog thinks he has to be the perfect assassin.

However, Assassins are just people too. People are flawed and cannot follow this perfectly. And Bullfrog was incredibly bitter. Probably not just bitter too, one can just imagine what he felt. He lost everything he cared about again. He failed again. Not to mention, i doubt he ever allowed himself to grief. And i feel like feeling that horde of emotions also lead to self loathing to a degree.

Bullfrog is supposed to embody the Brotherhood's ideology, hell, the entire brotherhood considering he's, to his and our knowledge, the only one left. He's not supposed to feel everything he's feeling right now, yet he does and it eats him up. The survivors guilt forces him to perfectionism. If he can't be the perfect assassin, then what is he? To him he's failing his ancestors and brothers, his fallen comrades, the ones he's fighting for, everyone.

And despite all of that he never once allowed himself to cry.

Except when he was convinced he was going to die.

Bullfrog cried during his final words as he apologized to Dolph for failing him. And i can promise you these tears weren't just because of the apology, no, in these few tears was at least a bit of everything that happend. Because he didn't have to stay strong anymore. He thought that's it. This is where he and the brotherhood will die. And he probably felt two main emotions in that moment. Hopelessness and relief. Hopelessness for very obvious reasons i doubt i need to elaborate, but relief? He didnt have that burden anymore. He thought he was going to die so that weight he's been carrying for who-knows how long would be off his shoulders. It's a very small price, but at least it's something.

Everything i've said so far is why a certain comic by @pitafish hits so hard to me. I won't show it here because i didn't ask for permission, but basically what happend is that Bullfrog and Ramon were lying in bed and Bullfrog had a breakdown so Ramon sang to him and hugged him to soothe and comfort him.

[Edit] i just got permission to link the comic so here you go

Bullfrog let himself cry. He let himself be vulnerable. He lets himself be an individual with his own thoughts and feelings instead of an extension/personification of the brotherhood. And most impressively, he did that in front of someone else. He let someone else soothe him, hold him, take the place of comfort he himself always took for others.

And that's what makes it hit so hard.

In conclusion, Bullfrog deserves a hug, a blankie, hot chocolate, to bawl his eyes out and some well-deserved rest.

#Do i have to get up in 5 hours? Yes. Do i care? No.#captain laserhawk #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #captain laserhawk blood dragon remix #clh #clh bullfrog #clhabdr

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punkshort · 8 months

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Chapter warnings: explicit smut (MDNI), perhaps some slight dubcon, language

Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

May 2004

You jumped and snapped your eyes open when you felt his fingers brush against your cheek. The moon was completely covered by clouds, making it difficult to see your own hand in front of your face. You looked around in the darkness, hearing the crickets and bullfrogs sing from a nearby pond. You sat up in your sleeping bag, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

"Hey," Joel whispered to you, stroking your cheek again. "Your turn." You nodded, even though you were fairly certain he couldn't see you, and unzipped your sleeping bag so you could stand. He put his hand inside yours to help pull you off the forest floor, his eyes more adjusted to the darkness than your own. He handed you the rifle as you rolled your shoulders, trying to wake your body up.

"You good?" he asked, whispering again.

"Yeah," you replied softly, "just more tired than I thought. Go get some sleep." You turned to head a few feet away to the edge of the trees, finding a broken stump to perch on and observe your surroundings as your eyes became more focused. You heard Joel rustling in his sleeping bag as he got comfortable, and then it was silent, except for the soft hum of wildlife around you.

You've been walking for a few weeks, making camp only in the density of the woods, not yet having found any place suitable enough to spend a few nights and recuperate. You were both exhausted from only getting a few hours of sleep each night, not nearly enough for either of you considering how many miles you walked in any given day. The forests were hilly, the was terrain soft and uneven, requiring more effort than usual from your bodies, slowing you down quite a bit. Joel figured you were headed in the direction of Omaha, but he wanted to steer clear of the city proper, so you were trying to keep a path that was further south, closer to the Missouri border.

After the cruel invasion of your little paradise, Joel had speculated that the men who came that day were part of a larger group, likely connected to the men you killed in the parking ramp. He told you at the time he found it odd that all of the sudden some people stumbled upon your little neighborhood when you had been there for several weeks, completely untouched. That the only thing that made sense was they tracked you back to your home, looking for revenge. It scared you to think someone out there had a vendetta against you, that it could cost your lives, but Joel assured you being so far removed from civilization now kept you safe. However, he still insisted on taking turns keeping watch at night, so you wondered just how truthful he was being.

You sighed as you listened to the crickets chirp in the darkness. Joel had left behind the two car batteries he wanted to use for the CB radio, and he mentioned once you found another small town or highway that he wanted to go looking for another one. You knew he was right, that you couldn't continue to live off the land forever, just the two of you. That the chances of finding Tommy were slim to none. And Joel was adamant about staying far away from any QZ. So, the only option left was to find another group of people who you could trust, and he was hoping to find that with his radio.

You patrolled the tree line every 10 minutes or so, not because it was necessary, but because it helped keep you awake You always glanced down at Joel's sleeping face when you passed by him. You were so close to having everything you wanted: the safety of a secluded home with the man you loved. You weren't sure when you realized it, but once you did, it was like you always knew. You kept it to yourself for now. It was the wrong time to bring it up. Maybe once you found someplace safe, someplace semi-permanent, you would tell him how you felt. He didn’t need the distraction right now.

You sat back down on the stump and watched as the sky slowly brightened through the lush tree trunks, then over the tops of the trees before the sun finally peeked through and birds began to sing, making you squint and readjust yourself so you weren't facing the light head-on. You looked back at Joel, still asleep based on the slow rise and fall of his shoulder. Knowing that the extra rest would do him good, you quietly got to work taking out the small kettle and can of coffee, gently removing two mugs from your backpack so they didn't clatter and make noise. There was a small stream nearby where you filled the kettle, as well as your canteens. Resting them next to you on the ground, you got to work starting a fire. It wasn't until Joel smelled the scent of coffee in your mugs that he stirred and turned over, glancing up at the sun in the sky before looking at you, his brows furrowed.

"Shoulda woke me sooner," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. You reached a mug out in his direction, and he took it from you gratefully, cradling it in both his hands before bringing it to his lips. You took a sip from your own mug before leaning back against a tree.

"You needed the sleep," you told him as he took another sip. "We've been hiking so much, you need to take care of yourself." He met your eyes over the rim of his mug, giving you a smirk before taking a big swig of coffee.

"What?" you asked him, raising an eyebrow. You put your mug on the ground to fish out some granola and a can of fruit. You tossed the items to Joel and leaned back to rest against your tree. He shook his head at you before ripping into the granola package.

"Nothin'," he said, keeping his eyes down on the food, "I was just thinkin', I prefer the way you take care of me..." you smiled, thinking it was such a sweet thing to say before he added, "in more ways than one."

Joel's eyes shot up to yours now, the surprise apparent on your face. The past few weeks have shifted you both into survival mode. Neither of you had attempted to be physical with one another, except for a quick kiss here or a squeeze of a hand there, an unspoken agreement that being out in the woods was dangerous and you needed to be alert. You blushed and looked down at your mug, feeling shy and taken off guard.

When he saw your reaction, he got up from his sleeping bag to come sit next to you, then tilted your chin up with his finger.

"You havin' second thoughts about us?" he asked, wanting it to come off as a joke, but as soon as he said the words, he realized he needed to know the answer.

You gave him a confused frown. Instead of answering, you put your mug down and flipped your leg over his so you were straddling him. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his mouth, wrapping one hand around his neck to pull him in deeper. He groaned and you took advantage, sliding your tongue alongside his while his hands gripped your waist. He let his head fall back gently against the tree trunk, running his hands up and down your back before resting them on your hips, pushing you down to grind against his cock, still hard from waking up.

You moaned, flipping your head in the other direction and swirling your tongue around his, tasting the crystallized black coffee in his mouth, and tightening the grip you had on his shoulder. Joel began lightly lifting his hips from the ground to rub against you while his kisses became messier. You had to force yourself back to break the contact before things escalated. He whined, trying to chase your mouth with his, but you dodged him, gently pushing his chest so he rested against the tree trunk again.

He looked up at you, his gaze dark and needy, panting softly as he tried to catch his breath.

“Why would you ask me that?” you said, refusing to respond to his hips still grinding into you.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Guess it’s been a while and it got me wonderin’ if you came to your senses.” He said, his eyes raking down your body and watching the slow roll of his hips against yours.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying your hardest to stay focused and not let him distract you.

“Y’know,” he shrugged, still looking down at your hips, “that you realized you deserve better.”

He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, like anyone in the world would understand, that it made your chest ache. You pushed your hips down firmly, pinning him to the ground so he couldn’t continue rubbing himself against your core, and gripped his chin firmly in your fingers, pulling his surprised gaze up to yours.

“Do you really believe that?” you asked, and all he could do was nod, still staring deep into your eyes. You let go of his chin and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” you began, making sure he was paying attention. “You are all that I want. You are all that I ever wanted. You’ve consumed my every waking thought for the past year, and you think I ‘deserve better’?” You leaned down to press a firm kiss on his lips before murmuring against his mouth. “There is no better than you. You’re perfect.” He shook his head, averting his gaze.

“I’m far from perfect. I fuck everything up, I piss everyone off, and –“ you cut him off, refusing to hear any more.

“I love you, Joel.”

His eyes shot up to yours. All you could hear was the buzzing of insects surrounding you in the woods and the occasional squirrel bouncing in the treetops. You held your breath, waiting for a reaction as he stared at you, his face giving nothing away. You shifted on his lap a little, beginning to feel exposed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you that now, I don’t want to distract you, but –“ Suddenly, Joel sprung forward and pushed you back into the sharp bed of pine needles on the forest floor and covered you with his body as he plunged his tongue into your mouth with a greater sense of urgency than before, his hand tangling in your hair. You were having trouble keeping pace with the unexpected response, so you resigned yourself to laying there with your hands on his jaw and waist while he feasted on your mouth in a frenzy. He broke the kiss, leaning back and swiped mindlessly at your shirt, trying to unbutton it but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. You moved his hands away so he wouldn’t tear the buttons off and ruin the flannel, undoing them quickly and leaving the shirt open but still covering your breasts while he yanked at the zipper on your jeans, pulling them over your hips desperately.

“Joel,” you gasped, looking around the forest as he pulled your jeans all the way off. “We should wait, we should find a safe place, we can’t – oh!” your back arched off the ground when you felt his tongue lick a stripe all the way from your folds to your clit. He focused his mouth on your bundle of nerves, sucking it into his mouth before traveling back down to your center and darting his tongue inside you, moaning when you clenched around him. The vibrations made your jaw hang open, a silent scream on your lips as you rocked yourself up and down to the rhythm he set, the scruff of his beard making the sensation on your cunt so intense it was making you see stars. He brought his mouth back up as he inserted one finger inside you, then two, while his tongue swirled around your clit. He must have noticed your reaction to the vibrations from his voice because he moaned against you over and over until you grabbed at his hair and pulled, stifling a scream as you came, still hyper aware you were exposed in the middle of the woods.

Joel slowed his pace as you came down, removing his fingers from your pussy and popping them in his glistening mouth with a smirk. You gasped for air as you watched him, still unsure how he managed to get you in this position so quickly. You glanced at the trees around you again, making sure no infected or people were nearby, before your gaze landed back on Joel right as he was pushing his jeans down past his knees, freeing his cock and fisting himself as he looked at you.

“This is too risky,” you whispered to him, but he shook his head.

“Don’t care,” he replied, bending down to push his lips against your mouth, tasting yourself as he ran his tongue alongside yours. You whined as he pulled back so he could line himself up with your entrance, applying the slightest bit of pressure before he let go and fell back on his arms to hover above you. He flicked your flannel open, revealing your breasts to him, and he brought a hand up to gently caress one in his palm, rolling a nipple between his fingers. You squirmed below him, desperate now to feel him inside.

“Say it again,” he commanded, giving you a look you had only seen given to colleagues in meetings, a look that meant he was not fucking around.

“I-I love you,” you stammered, unable to look away from his heated gaze. His eyes fluttered shut and he groaned, then in one swift motion, pushed his throbbing cock into you, making you squeeze your eyes shut and bite back a cry as your cunt fluttered around him, trying to adjust to his size. He hardly gave you any time to acclimate before his hips were thrusting into you steadily. Not too fast, but not the slow, languid thrusts he gifted you the first time you slept together. You gripped his back, your nails digging into his muscle as his pace increased, his gasps and groans absorbed by your throat where his mouth rested. He brought his hand down to grab your knee and pulled it up to your chest like before, causing a small cry to escape your lips as the angle changed to where he could hit that spot deep inside.

“J-Joel,” you stuttered, tears forming in your eyes. “I’m close, I’m gonna – oh, god, fuck - I’m gonna,” you shut your eyes, unable to finish your sentence as you felt the wave of euphoria begin to rise.

“Say it one more time,” he grunted, his jaw clenched as he slammed into you, watching your face closely. “Say it again when you come on my cock.”

“I love you,” you whimpered softly as you felt that familiar wave wash over you and you stilled under him, tilting your head back with your eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as you tried your best to be quiet. Joel’s movements became unsteady as he watched you come undone. The sight, combined with your admission, made him so lost in the moment that he almost forgot to pull out, spilling himself with a harsh grunt all over your thighs and the pine needles underneath you at the last second.

“Fuck,” he whispered, gasping for breath as he looked down at his seed painting your legs before tipping his head backwards towards the sky, trying to get ahold of himself.

You gripped at the edges of your flannel, pulling it shut as he kneeled between your legs, head still tilted back. You took another cursory glance around you before settling back on him, his eyes closed, and his head now slumped forward. You didn’t mean for the words to slip out, but you sensed in that moment of insecurity he needed the confirmation. You knew it was too soon, that you shouldn’t expect a response, but you were still embarrassed. You closed your eyes, regret invading your mind, as you waited for him to get up so you could clean yourself. Then you felt a cloth gently sweeping across your thighs, and you looked down to see he had fished a rag out of his jeans. He tossed it to the side and then looked at you, your eyes finally meeting once again. You grew uncomfortable under his gaze and began shifting your eyes around, hoping he would stand so you could pull your pants back up, feeling way too open.

“I love you, too,” he said softly, like he was reading your mind, and your eyes darted back to his immediately. You bit your lip to hold back a smile, but he saw it, and a grin spread over his face. He reached down to pull your underwear and jeans back up, and you lifted your hips so you could zip your pants before getting to work on buttoning your flannel.

You sat up and reached for your coffee, now cold in your mug, but you didn't care. You both sat in a comfortable silence sipping from your mugs, his arm draped around your shoulders. If you closed your eyes and focused, you could pretend you were sitting on the front porch of the white house with blue shutters, enjoying your morning coffee together in peace.

You were standing watch on a small highway that curved through the forest while Joel rummaged through a cluster of abandoned cars, checking under the hoods for a useable battery. You looked up and down the road, seeing nothing but a few squirrels and birds swooping down to peck at the ground. You turned back to check on him, smiling as Joel's face scrunched in concentration, twisting the knobs on the transceiver before holding the microphone up to his ear. He smirked, his features relaxing, before looking up at you.

"I got static," he told you, twisting the knobs again before cupping the receiver around his ear. He looked at the terrain around you before shutting the radio off and shoving both items in his pack, handing you a few of his things so he could make room. He zipped his backpack up and slung it around his shoulders, squinting at the trees again.

"We gotta get out of these hills, won't get much of a signal up here, too much blocking it," he explained, spreading his arm out to indicate the thick forest around you. He looked back down at you now, your brows furrowed with worry. He bent down to capture his lips over yours, massaging them gently before pulling away and using his thumb to smooth the frown from your forehead.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm gonna find us somewhere safe. Maybe even find us a house one day," he murmured, running his thumb over your lower lip before letting his hand fall to his side, dropping his head down to give you a reassuring look. You smiled back at him as you followed him down the road, leading you out of the hills and through the trees. You knew he was trying his best, but you were still worried about being around other people. So far, your interactions have not been very positive, and your trust in strangers was quickly waning. But you trusted Joel, and you knew he wouldn't lead you anywhere that was unsafe, so you carried on and followed him down the road. After a few hours, you found yourselves overlooking the edge of a huge cliff, leaning up against the guardrail to admire the tall pine trees below.

"Wow," you muttered, glancing down before taking a tentative step backwards. "We're higher up than I thought."

Joel was digging in his pack to pull the battery and radio out, tuning the dials to see if he could pick anything up. All you heard was static. You turned around to face the road, kicking a small stone and watching it skip across the pavement. You noticed the shadow of a bird fly over the road, and you glanced up to see a big hawk circling overhead, no doubt hunting for some lunch. You shrugged your pack from your shoulders and rummaged around for some beef jerky and dried fruit, listening to Joel mutter to himself as he turned the dials. Perching on a big rock, you took a bite of food and swiveled your head around, making sure the coast was still clear. You nearly choked on your dried peach when you heard a broken voice come through on the radio, your eyes shooting up to meet each other in shock.

You jumped down from the rock, your meal forgotten, as you jogged over to where he was crouched and bent down to try to make out the message. After a few minutes with no success, only able to make out a word or two, Joel turned the radio off and repacked it, sliding the backpack over his shoulders.

"We gotta keep moving, maybe the further down we go, we can pick up a better signal. C'mon," he said excitedly, turning to walk down the road as you ran back to snatch up your bow, pack and your bag of food, pushing the anxiety from your mind.

He kept pulling the radio back out every half hour or so, trying to see if the signal was clearer before continuing forward. It was getting late, you could see the sun glowing orange as it dipped below the trees. You were tired. Your feet and back hurt, and you weren't far enough into the forest to make a safe campsite.

"Joel?" You called out to him, ten feet ahead, mind still focused on the radio call. "Joel?" You tried again, louder this time. He swiveled around to you, his forehead creased.

"We gotta stop soon, find a place to set up camp," you said, peering through the forest which was quickly becoming dark.

"Just a little further, I think if we make it past this next bend in the road, I might be able to hear it," he said, turning back around before you stopped him, saying his name more firmly now, becoming frustrated.

"We can try tomorrow, c'mon, I'm tired," you said, your eyes pleading. He sighed and looked around for the first time, realizing how quickly it was becoming dark.

"Ok, let's go," he huffed, leading you into the woods. It was worrying you how fixated he was becoming on this radio call, like it was the answer to his prayers. Joel was quiet and lost in thought as he set up camp, hardly sparing a glance your way until he volunteered to take first watch. He picked up his rifle and headed a few yards out, clutching his flashlight in his hand and anxiously tapping his foot on the ground.

"Joel?" you said quietly, walking up behind him. He turned briefly to look at you before turning his attention back to the trees. "Can we talk about this?" you questioned hesitantly.

"What about it?" he replied gruffly, still turned away.

"I just want to manage your expectations; it might not be what you think it is. It could be a trap, or it could be the military. We don't know -" Joel cut you off, turning around to face you, his gaze dark.

"You don't wanna do this." He meant it to sound like a question, but it was more of a statement, like he already knew the answer. "I get it. We've had some bad run-ins, but we gotta try. We can't keep wanderin' around forever, and I ain't gettin' stuck in a QZ." His jaw ticked in frustration, wishing you would get on board with this plan.

"Remind me again why we don't want to go to a QZ," you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, your point proven. People are capable of terrible things.

"Yeah, I know, but we gotta believe there's some good out there. We need a community, people to help build a life again," he pleaded, reaching an arm out to you. You paused before reluctantly placing your hand in his palm, but you still refused to step towards him. He gave your hand a gentle tug and brought you forward to wrap his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head.

"Do you trust me?" he asked you, his lips pressed against the top of your head. You nodded before pushing away from him to head back to your sleeping bag, but not before calling over your shoulder, "You better be right, Miller."

He smirked and turned back towards the dense forest as you buried yourself inside your sleeping bag, the sounds of crickets lulling you to sleep.

The next day was rainy as you made your way further down the hill. Joel took mercy on you and waited until he had found a spot that was covered with some trees so you weren't standing in the pouring rain while he tested the radio. He knew you were concerned about what this next phase could bring, that you missed the little neighborhood you were forced to leave so suddenly. He didn't share with you his real reason for his obsession with finding a safe haven. Ever since you had to leave the house in a rush a few weeks ago, his anxiety has been borderline unmanageable. All he could focus on was what would have happened if it wasn't storming, if he didn't come back to the house exactly when he did. There had been too many close calls in the past few months, and he was realizing his ability to keep you safe would only get worse with age. The thought of putting you in harm’s way was eating him alive and keeping him up at night. Sometimes, he could feel his anxiety creeping up so badly that his chest began to ache, and his breathing became irregular. He didn't want to worry you and he knew you would just argue that you could defend yourself, so he kept these thoughts to himself and just focused on finding someplace permanent to live.

He got the radio to the right frequency when he finally heard the message clearer than he had the day before. You turned your head to stare at the radio as you heard the recording of a woman's voice say there was safety to be found at the Kansas City University dormitories, that there was a small group of survivors there welcoming all others. It gave directions on which dorm they were residing in before the recording stopped, then the message started over after about 20 seconds of silence.

He listened to it twice before turning it off, avoiding your stare as he packed the radio back in his bag. You remained silent. You expressed your concerns yesterday, there wasn't much point in repeating it. Joel took his map out to double check the route before continuing down the road to hook up with I-29. You walked in silence in the heavy rain for hours until you found an overpass to hide under and eat.

You kept your gaze focused on your food, fuming silently to yourself. Of course the message said exactly what he wanted to hear. You felt like you were the only one thinking logically, that maybe these people were already dead, or they were trying to lure you into a trap to steal your weapons and food. It was unlike Joel to be so willing to walk into a potentially dangerous situation like this, and you were starting to get angry.

"Alright, out with it," he said, feeling the tension and clearly annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied flatly, your eyes still fixed on your food.

"Don't play games with me," he said, his voice raising a bit. Why couldn't you see this was the best option? Why couldn't you just understand?

Pissed, you flicked your empty bag of food on the ground and stood up to glare at him, nostrils flaring.

"I already told you, Joel. I'm scared this isn't what you think it is. Why would they broadcast their location like that? Anybody could run up on them and steal their shit, kill them all. That doesn't cross your mind as strange?" you said through clenched teeth. He stood up now, his anger setting in. "What the hell's going on with you? Weren't you the one who told me not to be naive? Not everyone's telling the truth?"

"'What the hell's goin' on with me?'" He repeated, his fist clenched at his side. "I'll tell you what's goin' on with me. I'm fuckin' scared! I hardly know what I'm doin' out here, and I'm scared to death I'm gonna get you killed. Is that what you want to hear?" he yelled. He could feel his chest begin to tighten again but he ignored it. "And don't go tellin' me you can take care of yourself, I know you can, but there's too much at stake. If I lose you, it'll fuckin' kill me, do you get that?!" He grabbed your arms and gave you a shake, his outburst surprising you.

You stared at each other as his words settled over you. You could see in his eyes that he really was scared, that he was desperate, pleading with you to go through with this. You sighed as you felt the anger begin to dissipate. Maybe there was a compromise. You wriggled out from his grasp and took a step back, his arms falling to his sides.

Joel continued to stare at you, his eyes wide and panicky, determined to convince you. Over his shoulder you picked up some sluggish movement. Your eyes flicked from him to the runner lumbering towards you, his back still turned. You whipped the bow from behind you and grabbed an arrow sticking out of your backpack.

"Move," you muttered as you drew the arrow back. He shifted to the side and turned to see the infected ambling towards him, picking up speed. You lodged an arrow right between its eyes, your arms falling heavy to your side. You hung your head before bringing your chin up to look at him.

"Fine," you succumbed. "On one condition."

"Name it," he said eagerly, his chest relaxing.

"We watch them for a few days, or however long it takes for me to be good with this. We don't just go walking up and knocking on their door." You slung the bow across your back and walked a few feet to pull your arrow from the runner's skull.

"Done," he said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. "If anything feels off, we keep goin'. I promise."

You rolled your eyes, mostly teasing, but still annoyed with him.

"Come on, let's get going. We have to find somewhere to set up camp soon." You turned on your heel and left the cover of the overpass, Joel following shortly behind after a quick glance at his map. The thruway led you both through a massive nature preserve until you had found a small shelter that appeared to be a welcome center for the park. If it weren't for the thruway narrowly carving its way through the dense forest, you would be in the middle of nowhere. You were soaked to the bone and thrilled to find a place with a roof for the night. Joel didn't want to start a fire til the morning, so you had to make do with draping your wet clothes over the counters, hoping they would dry, and putting on layers before tucking yourself into your sleeping bag. Since you weren't as exposed now, Joel didn't think it was necessary to take watch. It would be the first time either of you got to sleep through the night in weeks. You buried your face and turned on your side, but right before you fell asleep, you felt Joel's arm snake around your waist and pull you closer to him across the floor, spooning you through your sleeping bags.

Kansas City, MO

You looked through the rifle scope at the Oak Street dormitory from your perch in a park across Brush Creek. The trees kept you mostly hidden, but you couldn’t get very high to get a good look at the place. Joel was hesitant to venture closer into the city, and you agreed that you felt safer in the confines of a park, surrounded by nature like you had become accustomed. It was your fourth day observing the dorms. You could see some movement through the windows from time to time, but they were smart: they kept their movements to a minimum and kept as many windows as possible covered. You had seen a couple men come outside with assault rifles doing what looked like regular perimeter checks, but aside from that, you hardly saw anyone. You had a pit in your stomach about this. You really hoped that when you got here, something would have convinced you that it was a good decision, that these people were trustworthy, but so far all you could tell was they were very good at staying quiet.

You sighed and leaned back, giving Joel the rifle and rolling your shoulder, tense from hovering over the gun all morning. He peered through the scope but saw the same thing as you, which wasn’t much. He had been patient and didn’t push you, he wanted this to work out so desperately, but he knew you had to come around on your own. You picked at your fingernails as you stared straight ahead past the creek to the building, trying to rationalize why this would be a good idea.

“I don’t know about this, Joel,” you admitted, chewing your lip and still staring at the building. “On one hand, they keep a low profile, but on the other, I can’t get an idea of what we would be dealing with.”

He nodded, his gaze falling to the ground, and he rubbed his chest. He wasn’t sure if you would find another community for a long time, and he was terrified of what could happen by then. You studied his face as he stared at the ground, feeling guilty for being doubtful. You understood his concerns, and you trusted him, but your gut was telling you something was off. You reached your hand out to take his, and he lifted his eyes to look at you questioningly.

“If you think it’s a good idea, I’ll do it,” you told him, stifling the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. His eyes crinkled as his face broke out into a smile, grabbing you and pulling you into a deep kiss, trying to express his gratitude. You pulled away and held his hand again.

“You can’t leave me alone, though. Not until I feel comfortable. It’s still us or them, right?” you told him, gazing urgently into his eyes, your grip on his hand tightening. He nodded aggressively.

“I won’t leave you, sweetheart. We’re in this together.” He leaned forward and planted another kiss before pulling back and gripping your face in his hands. “This’ll be good, I know it.”

You walked up to the building, unarmed with your hands raised. The area was quiet, you didn’t hear any sounds of infected, gunshots, or people, which put your mind at ease a bit. The door swung open and three men came out, aiming their rifles in your direction.

“Freeze!” one with dark black hair and thick eyebrows shouted. You did as you were told, raising your hands even higher as they approached you. When they got closer, the dark-haired man spoke up.

“What’s your business here?” he asked, eyeing your weapons but not making a move to take them.

“We heard your call over the radio, we’re lookin' for a community, just a couple of survivors.” Joel told them. You continued to stare straight ahead into the dark-haired man’s eyes. He turned his mouth to his shoulder where a walkie talkie was fastened, and he let whoever was on the other end know they had two survivors looking for asylum. He listened to his earpiece and nodded, lowering his weapons.

“You need to hand over your guns, then you can come with us. Meet the leadership. When they deem it acceptable, they’ll give you rooms.” He told you both, reaching his hand out expectantly for your weapons. You glanced at Joel nervously but did as the man said and tossed your knives, bow and handgun on the ground in between you as the two other men scooped them up. You lowered your hands as they ushered you into the building, one skinny man with reddish hair in front of you, leading the way, and the other two behind you, keeping a close eye on your movements.

The man knocked on a door on the second floor, only entering when he heard the acknowledgement from within. The door pushed open and you followed Joel into the room, standing beside him as the two men remained stationed at the door, their eyes still trained on the both of you. The redhead spoke up to a small group of people who were huddled around a desk examining a map.

“These are the two we saw approaching the doors,” he said, stepping aside so the leaders could survey you. You felt Joel stiffen beside you, but you weren’t sure why. There were four older men and one younger blonde woman, who immediately fixed her gaze onto Joel and the corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk. You turned your head to look at Joel, his jaw locked and he was frowning, staring daggers into the blonde woman.

“Joel!” she exclaimed softly, looking back in her direction as you heard him swallow roughly next to you.

“Amy,” he replied coldly, and you felt your stomach drop.

Chapter Sixteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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ghouljams · 5 months

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The-ther (they/them parent) hear me out, when the kids are a little older grade school maybe bug is starting middle school the 141 couples go on a long weekend type getaway and leave all the kids (except maybe babies I guess) with Price and Duck for a type of summer camp/sleepover with the grandparents only to come back three days later to them both fighting for their lives. Something is on fire, someones on a donkey and someone else is hugging a possum while everyone sings nursery rhymes.

OK Here is the definitive "baby pecking order" or "How to survive the cow-babies"

Bug is the oldest, defacto-leader, beloved by all babies. Not who you want to align yourself with, their only priority is keeping their sister safe from the chaos.

Frog is the second oldest and you do want to get her on your side immediately. The actual leader through sheer bossiness, she'll go to bat for you.

Bibi and Soap's oldest daughter are fighting already. Do not attempt to pull them apart unless you want to get bit.

Someone lit a hay-bale on fire.

You grab Soap's oldest boy and ask him to play detective with you. This works because he has a special interest in forensics. He spends the whole time explaining how to judge time of death while you look for his younger brother.

Bug has extinguished the fire. Frog has pulled apart Bibi and the Soap girl.

Jackie is holding Bug's sister's hand and babbling about ballet. You don't know where she came from, she is not wearing shoes.

Bibi and Soap's daughter have captured a opossum. You cannot deal with that right now.

Soap's twins are eating grass... That's probably fine.

Your co-detective admits to accidentally setting the fire because he was using his magnifying glass too close to the hay. You forgive him because he seems genuinely upset.

Soap's younger boy shows up covered in mud with the biggest bullfrog you've ever seen between his hands. He eagerly explains to you that this species is actually invasive to the area and treats you to a lecture on local ecology.

It's been an hour.

#ghoul speaks #cowboy au #baby ocs #idk what to tag this as but babysitting the lot of them would be a nightmare #I don't even know what would happen through Konig's kids in the mix #Price and Duck can handle them well enough #They just start assigning jobs #kids love having jobs #ghoul babies

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spacechild85 · 6 months

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I have THOUGHTS, man. (Captain Laserhawk spoilers, Laserfrog propaganda/lh)

Can we talk about why Laserhawk decided to go save Bullfrog

I mean of course he would you don't just leave him to die, he's obviously the crew/fan favorite, but let's think about it narratively. Why does Laserhawk want to save Bullfrog?

I feel like the reason is that during the whole VR thing where he was with Alex, and they talked about Bullfrog. Alex said that Bullfrog needed Laserhawk.

But honestly? I think it's a two way street. Laserhawk needs him just as much as Bullfrog needs him. And he realized it at that moment, in the arms of his former lover.

....I want you to think about that. Laserhawk was with Alex, but then the discussion went to Bullfrog quite...quickly. The way he talks about Bullfrog, he seemed really fond of him (The most ridiculous assassin I've ever met in my entire life...also the kindest.") Laserhawk realized Bullfrog was right about vengeance, yes. But there was also an internal realization within him that I dont think was said aloud (except by Alex with the whole "maybe he needs you" if you wanna count that) but is very apparent if you think about it.

We see how much Bullfrog CARES about the people around him, and it's most clear when he tries to get Laserhawk not to make rash decisions in the name of revenge. Usually, Laserhawk never heard him out but at that moment he realized that Bullfrog knew exactly how he was feeling and wanted to help.

Basically, he realized that there was someone out there who cared about him, who truly wanted the best for him and wanted to help him.

There, talking to a fake version of his toxic exe, who time after time made him feel as though he was worthless, a means to an end, he realized he was loved by someone.

And maybe, just maybe...he realized that he loved him back.

IDK maybe I'm just being sappy, but the look of determination that Laserhawk has at the end of Episode 5/Episode 6, it's like he KNOWS what he wanted at that moment. He wanted to see Bullfrog again, he wanted to save him. He wanted to prove to Bullfrog that he listened (finally). He was willing to go to hell and back in order to find him. He finally had someone worth fighting for.

And I think that matters a lot.

#laserfrog #dolph laserhawk #bullfrog #captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk spoilers #laserhawk spoilers #ramblings from another galaxy #idk these are just my very sappy thoughts abt the emo cyborg and his frog assassin

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spearhafoc · 4 months

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The Ranki-Baas are an alien species from the Andromeda Galaxy. Seen as a barbarian race by most of the universe, the Ranki-Baas didn't develop space travel on their own but had it introduced to them by visitors. However, their resource-limited homeworld made them an unattractive prospect for invaders and traders alike. Ranki-Baas culture is simple in its aesthetic tastes - making things for mostly utilitarian purposes and avoiding ornamentation or art-for-art's sake. The main exception is in their songs, which are renowned abroad, even by those who dismiss other aspects of their culture. Singing is extremely important to them - in fact, several wars have been fought solely because a tribal chief or two wanted a venue to showcase a new acapella war chant or the like. They each have two throats, which aid in their ability to harmonize.

Ranki-Baas only have one sex, with each member having both male and female features. In a mating scenario, both participants tend to give birth. The have live births, but the young are soon after suspended in nutrient-rich mud until they reach adolescence, when they emerge healthy and strong. Ranki-Baas have expandable throats, like the bullfrog of Earth, with are used in threat displays. Their "horns" are actually the upper canine tusks, which grow upward and pierce through their skin.

Inspired by the Goblins/Orcs from the Rankin/Bass Tolkien movies. I always liked their designs (even though they're not remotely book-accurate) and they always had the best songs. Their gestation period is based on the infamous "Orc Pods" from Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings movies.

#art #creature design #creature #monster #alien #aliens #goblins #orc #orcs #goblin #rankin bass #the hobbit #return of the king #lord of the rings #tolkien #andromeda galaxy

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olliepoppin · 4 months

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I just realized I havent even posted any of my traditional Bullfrog doodles holy shittocks,, except I know why. Theyre messy as shit. But i may as well share them

I cant keep a consistent style w him so bear with me here 😭 im still figuring it out

#captain laserhawk #bullfrog #clh #bullfrog fanart #Sketch dump #Doodles #Instead of learning shit and focusing on my future im drawing a french frog #Ignore the fact you can see thru my assignment on the 3rd pic #His ass would never ask for a hug in canon

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pansear-doodles · 1 year

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RW Shipping Name Masterlist

F2U Shipping Emotes Shipping Emote Discord Server Invite Scug Shipping Tierlist maker

---

Considering the influence I have over the fandom, I will be using this position to create concrete naming proposals for RW Ships.

If there are any suggestions/reworks in mind, please reply to this post! Not all ships will be included but they can be added later by request (and I will intentionally not include problematic/weird ones). On the polyamory side of things, there are so many variations, so I'll just be grabbing some I've seen. (Feel free to suggest any too)

They MIGHT be ordered by popularity/frequency based on my observations (I watch the rain world hashtags on both twitter and tumblr like a hawk; and I also check the fanart discord channels). This isn't me saying that your favorite ship isn't popular or bad.

Ship names are best determined by how well it reads, if it rolls the tongue good enough and how frequent the community uses it. (Alternatively, there can be unique ship codes/descriptors if decided majority by the community)

This list isn't perfect of course, which is why I encourage people to contribute to it! It will be periodically updated.

Please be respectful to each other and be open-minded, especially considering that each of us have widely different portrayals of the characters. The RW Artist community is the most respectful shipping space I ever been on, and I want to keep it that way!

If shipping is not your taste, good for you! Let's respect each others' ideas of how we portray the characters in general.

Let us assume they are all adults in similar age ranges and nonrelated (until proven otherwise by canon) in this case please. For iterators, we will assume all are nonrelated (except Moon and Pebbles as they are heavily coded to be siblings). All shippers ignore the timeline canon the game gives generally.

Plain text means its not yet decided or used by one person Italicized text means its being decided or used by few people Bold text means its fully decided or considered by the majority (supported by dedicated hashtags if ever)

SEMI-OUTDATED (doesn't contains all the ship codes so please reply to this post with suggestions)

Contains Downpour spoilers

ARTIFICER SHIPS

Artificer x Hunter - Artihunter/Girls Who Kill/Cherry Bomb/Violent Lesbians/Red Velvet/War Criminals

Artificer x Saint - Artisaint/Death Pop/Argument/Pegasus

Artificer x Gourmand - Artimand/Gourificer/Popcorn/Barbecue/Gore-Bomb/Strawberries n’ Cream/Parentshipping/The Moms

Artificer x Spearmaster - Spearficer/Boomstick/Hotshot/Firecracker/Sparkler/Death Notice

Artificer x Rivulet - Rivuficer/Artilet/Fireboy and Watergirl/Missile/Bathbomb/Rarefacton Cell/Toasterbath

Artificer x Survivor - Survficer/Redvelvet

Artificer x Monk - Artimonk/Sunnysideup

Artificer x Enot - Enotficer/Paprika/La Bomba/Pipe Bomb

GOURMAND SHIPS

Gourmand x Artificer - Artimand/Gourificer/Popcorn/Barbecue/Gore-Bomb/Strawberries n’ Cream/Parentshipping/The Moms

Gourmand x Spearmaster - Spearmand/Kebab/Pin Cushion/Fruit Ninja

Gourmand x Hunter - Gourunter/Huntmand/Honeyham/Cherry Pie/Baby Back Ribs

Gourmand x Saint - Saintmand/Goursaint/Fluffball/Wooly Mammoth/Mintcaramel/Sacred Feast/Shamrock Shake/Ice Cream/Furball/Big Bush/Fat Blunt/Apple Pie

Gourmand x Rivulet - Rivumand/Gourmet/Fastfood/Seafood/Pufferfish/Fish and Chips/Bullfrog

Gourmand x Survivor - Survmand/Gourvivor/Marshmallow/Snowball

Gourmand x Enot - Enotmand/Gournot/Bathbomb/Scrambledeggs/Suspiciousstew/Black Licorice

Gourmand x Monk - Gourmonk/Cheesewheel/Big Cheese

Gourmand x Nightcat - Nightmand/Full Moon

RIVULET SHIPS

Rivulet x Spearmaster - Spearvulet/Fishstick/Swordfish/Speedpaint/Narwhal

Rivulet x Hunter - Rivhunter/Cotton candy/Fisher/Piranha

Rivulet x Artificer - Rivuficer/Artilet/Fireboy and Watergirl/Missile/Bathbomb/Rarefacton Cell/Toasterbath

Rivulet x Saint - Rivusaint/Speedscugs/Floofish/Fluffy Axolotl/Marine Snow/Waterdancers/Bubblefruit/Seaweed/Holy Water

Rivulet x Gourmand - Rivumand/Gourmet/Fastfood/Seafood/Pufferfish/Fish and Chips/Bullfrog

Rivulet x Survivor - Survulet/Tapwater

Rivulet x Enot - Rivunot/Speedrun/Ploink/ADHD/Explosion :3

Rivulet x Monk - Rivmonk/Monkvulet/Lemonshark/Banana Boat

Rivulet x Nightcat - Nightvulet/Deep Sea/Lanternfish

SPEARMASTER SHIPS

Spearmaster x Rivulet - Spearvulet/Fishstick/Swordfish/Speedpaint/Narwhal

Spearmaster x Saint - Spearsaint/Saintmaster/Spearmint/Icicles/Holy Stick/Thornbush

Spearmaster x Gourmand - Spearmand/Kebab/Pin Cushion/Fruit Ninja

Spearmaster x Artificer - Spearficer/Boomstick/Hotshot/Firecracker/Sparkler/Death Notice

Spearmaster x Hunter - Spearhunter/Huntmaster/Love Message/Thorn Bush/Grape Fruit/Grape Juice/Broadcats

Spearmaster x Survivor - Spearvivor/The Fighters/Glowstick

Spearmaster x Enot - Spearnot/Lagspike

Spearmaster x Monk - Spearmonk/Cheesestick

Spearmaster x Nightcat - Spearnight/Nightspear/Shadow Force/Vampire Bat

SAINT SHIPS

Saint x Artificer - Artisaint/Death Pop/Argument/Pegasus

Saint x Spearmaster - Spearsaint/Saintmaster/Spearmint/Icicles/Holy Stick/Thornbush

Saint x Gourmand - Saintmand/Goursaint/Fluffball/Wooly Mammoth/Mintcaramel/Sacred Feast/Shamrock Shake/Ice Cream/Furball/Big Bush/Fat Blunt/Apple Pie

Saint x Rivulet - Rivusaint/Speedscugs/Floofish/Fluffy Axolotl/Marine Snow/Waterdancers/Bubblefruit/Seaweed/Holy Water

Saint x Hunter - Saintunter/Cherrybush/Watermelon

Saint x Survivor - Survaint/Toothpaste/Mint Ice cream/Pistachio

Saint x Enot - Saintnot/Chaos/Godmode

Saint x Monk - Saintmonk/Monsaint/Peacemakers/Banana Split/Sprite Lemon Lime

Saint x Nightcat - Nightsaint/Holy Night/Nightshade/Chocolate Mint

HUNTER SHIPS

Hunter x Artificer - Artihunter/Girls Who Kill/Cherry Bomb/Violent Lesbians/Red Velvet/War Criminals

Hunter x Rivulet - Rivhunter/Cotton candy/Fisher/Piranha

Hunter x Gourmand - Gourunter/Huntmand/Honeyham/Cherry Pie/Baby Back Ribs

Hunter x Saint - Saintunter/Cherrybush/Watermelon

Hunter x Survivor - Survunter/Hunter Gatherer/Candy Cane

Hunter x Spearmaster - Spearhunter/Huntmaster/Love Message/Thorn Bush/Grape Fruit/Grape Juice/Broadcats

Hunter x Monk - Huntmonk/Monkhunter/Apple Juice

Hunter x Nightcat - Nighthunter/Bloodmoon

Hunter x Enot - Huntnot/Counterstrike/Hard Boiled

SURVIVOR SHIPS

Survivor x Gourmand - Survmand/Gourvivor/Marshmallow/Snowball

Survivor x Artificer - Survficer/Redvelvet

Survivor x Rivulet - Survulet/Tapwater

Survivor x Spearmaster - Spearvivor/The Fighters/Glowstick

Survivor x Hunter - Survunter/Hunter Gatherer/Candy Cane

Survivor x Saint - Survaint/Toothpaste/Mint Ice cream/Pistachio

Survivor x Nightcat - Nightlight/Oreo/Yin and Yang/Nightvivor/Survnight/Zebra Cake/Riceball/Onigiri/Starrynight

Survivor x Enot -Survivenot/Reversal

MONK SHIPS

Monk x Hunter - Huntmonk/Monkhunter/Apple Juice

Monk x Nightcat - Nightmonk/Solar Eclipse/Moon Cheese

Monk x Rivulet - Rivmonk/Monkvulet/Lemonshark/Banana Boat

Monk x Spearmaster - Spearmonk/Cheesestick

Monk x Artificer - Artimonk/Sunnysideup

Monk x Gourmand - Gourmonk/Cheesewheel/Big Cheese

Monk x Saint - Saintmonk/Monsaint/Peacemakers/Banana Split/Sprite Lemon Lime

Monk x Enot - Monknot/NachoCheese

NIGHTCAT SHIPS

Nightcat x Survivor - Nightlight/Oreo/Yin and Yang/Nightvivor/Survnight/Zebra Cake/Riceball/Onigiri/Starrynight

Nightcat x Enot - Enight/Enotnight/Nightnot/Error 404/Black Cats

Nightcat x Monk - Nightmonk/Solar Eclipse/Moon Cheese/Midnight Sun

Nightcat x Gourmand - Nightmand/Full Moon

Nightcat x Saint - Nightsaint/Holy Night/Nightshade/Chocolate Mint

Nightcat x Rivulet - Nightvulet/Deep Sea/Lanternfish

Nightcat x Artificer - Nightficer/Artinight/Fireworks

Nightcat x Hunter - Nighthunter/Bloodmoon

Nightcat x Spearmaster - Spearnight/Nightspear/Shadow Force/Vampire Bat

ENOT SHIPS

Enot x Artificer - Enotficer/Paprika/La Bomba/Pipe Bomb

Enot x Gourmand - Enotmand/Gournot/Bathbomb/Scrambledeggs/Suspiciousstew/Black Licorice

Enot x Rivulet - Rivunot/Speedrun/Ploink/ADHD/Explosion :3

Enot x Spearmaster - Spearnot/Lagspike

Enot x Saint - Saintnot/Chaos/Godmode

Enot x Hunter - Huntnot/Counterstrike/Hard Boiled

Enot x Survivor - Survivenot/Reversal

Enot x Nightcat - Enight/Enotnight/Nightnot/Error 404/Black Cats

Enot x Monk - Monknot/NachoCheese/Moon Cheese/Midnight Sun

ITERATOR SHIPS

Pebbles x Suns - Redpebbles/Sunstone/Hot Rocks/Fallen Suns/ Fallen Sunset/Pepper Volcano/FPS

Pebbles x Sigs - Sigpebbles/Ragequit/Gamer Rage/Rock and a Hard Place/Synthesizer

Suns x Sigs - Sunsigs/Traffic Light/Therapy Session

Suns x Moon - Sunmoon/Eclipse

Sigs x Moon - Sigmoon/Lilypad/Neuron Spam

Moon x Sliver - Slivermoon/WaningCrescent/Fallen Gods/Harvest Moon

Sliver x Wind - Sliverwind/Windy Fields

Wind x Innocence - Windocence/Content Warning User Interface

Pebbles x Suns x Sigs - Sigsunpebs/Cold Ones

MISC. PAIR SHIPS

Artificer x Scavenger Chieftain - Artiking/Regicide

Artificer x Hunter x Rot - Artrothunter/Explosive Hunting

Survivor and Monk's Parents - Mayo Ketchup/Salsa Rosa

Artificer x Hunter x Scavenger Chieftain - Artihunterking/Triple Threat/Triple Red

Robin x Carl - Corbin

MULTI-SHIPS (3)

Artificer x Saint x Hunter - Artisaintunter/Spicy Pesto/Tri-Force/Cyberbullying

Artificer x Hunter x Spearmaster - Artispearunter/Girls Night/Murdercat Trio/Murdercats

Artificer x Hunter x Gourmand - Artihuntermand/Heartwarm/Homebound/Sunrise

Saint x Rivulet x Gourmand - Saigourmulet/Seasoned Fish Fillet/Ice Cream

Artificer x Rivulet x Saint - Artisaintvulet

Survivor x Gourmand x Spearmaster - Gourvivaster/PB&J

Spearmaster x Rivulet x Saint - Spearsaintvulet/Crazy Straw

Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster - Artispearsaint/Dangocats

Hunter x Survivor x Nightcat - Survnightunter/Neapolitan

Artificer x Spearmaster x Rivulet - Artispearvulet/Ultrakill

Rivulet x Hunter x Monk - Rivuntermonk/Sonic Heroes/Red Waters

Saint x Hunter x Rivulet - Saintuntervulet/RGB

Hunter x Rivulet x Spearmaster - Huntvuletmaster/Pufferfish

Rivulet x Spearmaster x Gourmand - Rivmastermand/Fish Kebab/Luau/Seafood Kebab

Spearmaster x Artificer x Gourmand - Spearficermand/Spitroast

Saint x Gourmand x Enot - Goursaintnot/Fluffy Ball of Chaos/Digital Yarn Ball/G Fuel/Choking Hazard/Mountain Dew/Divine Dining

Survivor x Enot x Nightcat - Survnightnot/Oreo Sunday/Lightswitch (System related)/Monochrome

Saint x Enot x Nightcat - Saintnotcat/Cheats Enabled/Glitched Cycles/Ascended cycles/Repeating Fates/Starry Mint

Spearmaster x Hunter x Monk - Spearuntermonk/Juice Box/Apple Cider

Rivulet x Saint x Gourmand - Rivusaintmand/Surf n Turf

MULTI-SHIPS (4)

Artificer x Saint x Hunter x Spearmaster - Artispearaintunter

Artificer x Hunter x Spearmaster x Rivulet - Artispearuntervulet

Gourmand x Spearmaster x Saint x Rivulet - Goursaintmastervulet/Sushi/Popsicle

Gourmand x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Hunter - Gourspearvuletunter/Fish Fry

MULTI-SHIPS (5)

Artificer x Saint x Hunter x Spearmaster x Nightcat - Artispearaintnightunter

Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand - Artispearaintvuletmand/Speartigourmrivsaint/DP Gang

Artificer x Hunter x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Saint - Artispearaintvulenter/War Crimes

MULTI-SHIPS (6)

Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter - Artispearaintunervuletmand/Rainbow/Tie-dye

MULTI-SHIPS (7)

Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter x Enot - Artispearaintunternotvuletmand

Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter x Nightcat - Artispearaintunternightvuletmand

MULTI-SHIPS (8)

Artificer x Saint x Spearmaster x Rivulet x Gourmand x Hunter x Nightcat x Enot - Artispearaintunternightvuletnotmand (phew... *accidentally summons satan* FUCK.)

#scug shipping #rain world #rainworld #rain world downpour #rainworld downpour #rainworld spoilers #rain world spoilers #dp spoilers #text #slugcat #iterator

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salty-croissants · 5 months

Note

bullfrog x reader (any gender) , unofficial marriage. Where both of them want to made things official but considering the situation with them and Eden, reader “proposes” to bullfrog in the sweetest way ever.

(sorry if this ask sounds too all over the place I got too giddy typing this out💞)

Thank you for the request !

This is a really wholesome prompt , I enjoyed writing it :D

Also don’t worry about it , your request was just fine ! 👍

I hope this turned out okay !

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

established relationships ;

no warnings needed

Now that you and Bullfrog have been together for quite some time , there is a desire from both of you to give your relationship more of a deeper meaning … especially since you don’t realistically know how much time you have left given how dangerous your goal to take down Eden is .

However , since you’re constantly hiding and on the run there is no way to have any kinds of official ceremonies , so yeah … it’s really not an easy situation to be in .

Bullfrog feels very guilty about the fact that he can’t properly marry the person he loves the most because of his wanted status , and during the days in which he feels at his lowest he’s often going to bring it up …

< y/n , I just want you to have a good life … one where you don’t have to worry about getting hurt because of me .

I can’t ask you to put everything at stake just to - >

< Bullfrog , my love … I want to .

I want to be with you and fight by your side : no matter what the future has in store for us , I just know that we can face it together . >

Your words never fail to bring some comfort to the assassin , even though they can’t magically erase his worries : maybe you’re right … maybe you will figure everything out as long as you stay together , who knows ?

Deep down though , you’re just as anxious as he is : you would do anything to be able to marry Bullfrog and create an even stronger bond between you both , but how could you do that with Eden constantly threatening your lives ?

After lots of thinking and scrapping one idea after another , you finally come up with a plan to propose to your beloved frog in a way that will definitely surprise him in the best way possible … it is slightly risky , but it’s a small price to pay to make that dream you and Bullfrog have become a reality .

There is a special place that you two go to whenever you want to spend some time alone : a lake , located far away from the city surrounded by a small forest and with a pretty gazebo … it’s been forgotten about by pretty much everyone except for you and Bullfrog , which makes it a perfect corner to hide away from the rest of the world when things get a bit too tough .

It’s a great candidate for what you have in mind , so you begin working on making it even more magical to have it ready for the time you’ll propose to Bullfrog , and since that’s quite a long task you end up spending months on your project … something that your boyfriend became quite curious about .

< Hey , darling ? I noticed you’ve been heading off quite often these days … tout va bien ? >

< Oh - yeah yeah , it’s all good !

I may or may not be working on a little … surprise , but I can’t spoil it just yet ~ >

< Heh , d'accord … just be careful when you’re outside , okay ? >

< I’ll be careful sweetie , don’t worry . >

… and after all that hard work , everything is ready for the big day :

you ask Bullfrog to follow you somewhere , and he immediately understands that this sudden request has something to do with that secret thing you told him about days ago .

< Oh ? Am I going to see what surprise you have in store for me ?

I won’t lie , je suis curieux ! >

< Mhm , yeah it’s finally ready … I’m not really sure , but something tells me that you won’t be expecting what it is ~ >

When he finally gets to witness what you did to your hidden spot by the lake , he just …

He’s completely and utterly in awe :

the place has been thoughtfully decorated with roses , his favorite flower , which outline the path that leads to the gazebo …

< y/n … !

You … you’ve made all of this for me … ? >

< Yeah !

I wish I could’ve shown this to you sooner , but it takes time for roses to grow … I came here every day to take care of them and make sure that everything was okay .

Do you … like it ? >

< Like it ? Mon beau , this is incredible !

I can’t believe you went through so much just to do this for me … thank you , thank you so much ! >

You can’t help but smile in front of his adorable reaction , and the moment he begins peppering your face with sweet kisses to underline just how happy you’ve made him your happiness only grows …

… but you know that’s not all .

< Uh , actually … there’s another reason why I’ve been working on this .

That’s … heh , that’s the real surprise tonight .

It’s something that I couldn’t tell you just anywhere … something that I’ve been wanting to say for a long time . >

You can feel Bullfrog’s golden eyes staring at you as you slowly get on your knees , your heart pounding in your chest as you prepare yourself to finally confess your true feelings for the frog you’ve grown to love so much over the years …

< y/n … ? >

Bullfrog had a feeling that something special was going to happen that night … but now he is starting to realize what it is .

< Bullfrog , my one and only love … I can’t express enough just what a blessing having you in my life has been until now :

you’ve always been there for me through the highs and the lows , showing me kindness and understanding even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it …

You’re just … you’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me , and I really do mean it . >

You take a second to catch your breath , your eyes never leaving his …

< I know that time is running out , with Eden one step behind us , ready to end us the second we lower our guard … this isn’t really a situation most people would consider ideal to ask you something like this , but while I don’t know what will become of us I just know that …

All I want to do is spend every single moment with you , the person that brings me hope even when I can’t bring myself to see the light . >

Here it comes … the moment you’ve both been waiting for …

< So , Bullfrog …

Will you marry me ? >

You immediately feel his arms around you the second you finish your sentence , and judging by his little sniffs you can tell that the assassin was really , really touched by what you said …

< Oh y/n , mon amour … of course I will …

I’ve been wanting to do this for so long , I was just … scared , scared to put you in danger , scared to lose you … >

You definitely get a bit emotional too , his hands caressing your cheeks and wiping away your tears of joy …

< You won’t lose me , I promise .

I love you so much , Bullfrog … heh , words aren’t even enough to express how much you mean to me . >

He smiles at you softly , and before you know it your faces get closer and closer , until your lips touch .

< Mm … je t'aime aussi , y/n … and I will love you always . >

Hearing him whisper those words among the kisses makes your heart skip a beat , and as your night ends with a much needed intimate moment of passion you feel like this night marks a new beginning for the two of you …

No one would be able to break your bond , not Eden , not anyone else .

#captain laserhawk #x reader #bullfrog x reader #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #gender neutral reader

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