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#this was just going to be a ‘haha they get emotional over how pretty the movie is’ comic and then I thought abt it some more
victarin · 8 months
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done for the weekly prompt in Dca enjoyers discord :) sun and moon watching The Last Unicorn (their first movie outside the pizzaplex) bc i kept thinking abt it
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moeblob · 1 month
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Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.
Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.
#my characters#waiting on some info on the next commission so i indulged in ocs today bc i doubt i will have as much time for lil comics for a bit#deacon is so devoted hes like yeah i would kill for a deity that could easily kill anything himself but yknow teehee#and fulj just did you tell him you needed therapy also does he even know youd murder in his name#deacon caught red handed haha no of course i havent told him it should be obvious enough haha.... and its in his defense not his name :c#man really does have some issues but i love him so much and hes so devoted but like. unhealthily after a while#he does in fact need a chill pill and therapy but to be fair#ymber has needed therapy for centuries and yet he just bottles it all up and suffers so#its pretty unhealthy until they yell at each other one (1) time bc they are so insecure about things and get mad over very valid reasons#but then theyre like you know what that was necessary and i still want to stay by your side if you let me#and then fulj is like dude hey sorry you seem really happy did you fu- and ymber is like no please stop there we have not#fulj just squinting cause have not is very different than will not but whatever she doesnt wanna think about that with deacon involved ew#and eventually fulj is like hey ymber im sorry to say but i really do hate deacon and i dont even know why but he makes me uncomfortable#while deacon is just. in the room. hearing this and thinking how he knows she thinks hes weird but wow that wording hurts#and ymber doesnt wanna fill in memories better forgotten by fulj which she had forcefully removed#so he just says oh well his hair and clothing are black and you had someone in the past that you might see in him and its not a pleasant en#so you know maybe its that idk#and fulj is then WHATST i was rude to him for someone i cant even remember? lame im gonna try SO HARD to be nice to him now#and deacon just still sitting there with some food like this is v awkward and i wish i could not be here for it#and later he asks ymber about who he resembled and as ymber is descibing her it clicks in deacons head and he gets really sad#that he might somehow remind fulj of the woman she loved before she was punished for loving a mortal#and he feels kinda bad pestering her so much with his curiosities about deities and he kinda gets it#the fact hes close to ymber might remind her at the core that she was once that close with a mortal if not closer#anyway story time in the tags again#im so obsessed with these peeps and i have made them suffer so much but they do all end on a happy note#its still funny and nice to me that while fulj is creeped out by deacon and doesnt like talking to him#he still expresses the most emotions to her - he tries hard to remain serious around ymber and collected and obedient at all times#and when out and about with ymber he has to be intimidating and refuses smiling but fulj?? all sunshine and smiles and emotions easy to rea#and she is just that is so weird go away i hate you
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sysig · 1 month
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Someone’s looking out for you ♥ (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Crackship#Wally West this time! :D#Their flirting is the cutest <3 <3#But first! ZEX's uniform!!!!! JKFLdhsafjdf <3 <3 <3 <3 <3#I've always liked his uniform - he looks beautiful in it it's quite fun to draw it's pretty it's flowy - very good piece of clothing do like#How something as simple as missing it for a week makes such a huge impact <3 Hhghh gods the way he describes getting it back ♥♪♫#I've never appreciated the Feeling of his uniform on his body before now and hhh what a difference it makes!#Genuinely like a tactile understanding to complement the emotional <3 Feeling and feelings! It's so lovely! Ahh <3#It goes back to being a question mark over everything once he starts to really think through the implications but for A Moment#And he gets to snuggle a human the same night :D Everything going so well!#Wally's so funny lol he's got ZEX making The most obvious come ons he possibly can flirting his little alien heart out#And he's just like ''But do you actually want to? Do you /really/ want to??'' Haha ♪#It's very sweet honestly! Very attentive and careful <3 I'm always appreciative of anyone who treats ZEX well ♥#But no he definitely Does Not mean pretty much anything platonically lol#What was it how did I describe him in my notes and haven't been able to stop laughing about lol -#Ah yes - Wally doesn't need to worry because ZEX is a ''hedonistic pleasurebeast'' lol#I also like how Wally is the first(? if I remember correctly) of ZEX's Type starting to develop haha ♪#Sure he likes all humans but if he happens to lean one way more than another hehehe ♫#I'm doubly fascinated by his self-awareness (and lack thereof) around submissiveness - he's very sensitive as a human!#He's still quite aggressive but also easily overwhelmed ♪ It's a very interesting combo to me :3c#And any further insight into his proclivities delights me hehe <3#Heart eyes ZEX >>>>>> ♥♪♫#And a few silly little doodles as well :D The first one's just a random chibi lol he's cute! ♪#The second is of him trying a Starburst hehe he's so cute <3 I was so curious as to how he'd react to candy/sugar so lovely to see!#And thus far he hasn't had any alcohol - good Max has had enough - but I got my favourite Catawba so tipsy doodle it is lol#All the cutests <3 <3
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backwardsbread · 2 months
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Hazbin Hotel Characters:
~Marriage proposals~
Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.
A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!
This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))
?Semi proofread?
Lucifer:
This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.
When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.
He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.
(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)
The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.
How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.
With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.
It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.
But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.
He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.
As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.
But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.
When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.
This has to be PERFECT-
He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.
Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.
Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.
He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.
Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.
Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.
(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)
He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?
With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.
But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…
He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)
“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”
Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.
You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.
And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.
The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.
It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.
(I mean. Technically you were)
During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.
Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.
His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.
Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.
You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.
Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.
His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.
His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.
He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.
You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)
It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.
Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.
And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.
You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.
Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.
You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.
His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.
Alastor:
We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.
He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.
The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.
Falling for you was never part of his plan.
He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.
But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.
You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.
You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.
You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.
Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.
This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.
Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.
His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.
There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.
The first time he did this scared you,
(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)
But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.
It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.
You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.
It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.
You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.
It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.
Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.
(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)
(But enough backstory)
More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.
The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.
We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.
“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”
“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”
“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”
“…”
“You do know where we are, right?”
It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.
But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.
The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.
The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.
It irked him.
After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.
It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.
If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.
It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.
You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.
You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.
You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.
Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.
“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”
The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)
He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.
You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.
You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.
Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.
He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.
You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.
Oh- he was serious?????
You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’
Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.
Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.
You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.
You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.
He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.
And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Vox:
Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.
Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.
A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.
He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.
Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.
How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.
(According to him.)
Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.
But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.
Yeah he had it BAD.
When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.
Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.
So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.
It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.
You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.
As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.
Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.
Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.
Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.
He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.
The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.
He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.
As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.
(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)
You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.
The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.
Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.
Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.
Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.
And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.
He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.
Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.
So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.
Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.
It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.
By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.
While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.
He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.
Where the hell did you go??
He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.
He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.
He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.
Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.
The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.
He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.
“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”
(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)
Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.
Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.
“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“
“You better watch your mouth.”
“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”
Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.
The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.
The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.
Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.
You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.
Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.
You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.
You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.
You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.
As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.
He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.
I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.
He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.
For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.
He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.
You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.
He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.
You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.
Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.
It was perfect.
874 notes · View notes
gracieheartspedro · 9 months
Text
Cool About It
joel miller x fem! reader
Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.
Part 1/3
PART TWO IS HERE
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha
hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao
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Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool
And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos
Ask you easy questions about work and school
I'm trying to be cool about it
Feelin' like an absolute fool about it
Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it
Tellin' myself I can always do without it
Knowin' that it probably isn't true
You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell. 
So here you are, at a bar. 
Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers. 
Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.
Joel was different. 
Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets. 
“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you. 
You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel. 
The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.
“Whatever she’s havin’.” 
Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart. 
“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”
Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.
Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.
“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria. 
You nod, “It’s going.”
“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”
He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile. 
“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”
Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up. 
“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”
You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat. 
“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”
“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”
You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”
You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life. 
“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.
“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”
“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”
“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments. 
You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh. 
From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?
Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit. 
“Stay awhile, have another drink.”
You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”
“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey. 
You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.
“You still with that one guy?”
You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you. 
“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond. 
Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest. 
“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”
You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone. 
“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”
He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell. 
“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”
“Oh, now you know my type?”
He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”
Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him. 
Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.
You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”
“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”
You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”
Another awkward silence. 
“Wanna play some pool?”
You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.
You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you. 
Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment. 
“You ever play?”
“Yeah, I just suck.”
“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets. 
You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started. 
It didn’t. 
Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit. 
“You see that guy over there?”
He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual. 
You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away. 
“Mhm?”
“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”
The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way. 
You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his. 
“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”
“No problem.”
-
You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison. 
Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.
“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”
“Should I?” You question, stupidly.
“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”
He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.
“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry, what exactly?”
He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7. 
“Brought a girl home.”
His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.
“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.
“Don’t know about that,��� He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”
His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.
“What do you mean, a while?”
His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so. 
“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”
Your heart skips a beat. 
“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?
“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”
He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.
He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt. 
I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now. 
Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?
It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.
“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. 
He looks to the side, glancing out the back window. 
“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”
It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve. 
“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”
He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe. 
Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass. 
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air. 
He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire. 
He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you. 
“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs. 
“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you. 
“You just gonna gawk?”
He smiles. 
“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him. 
He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy. 
“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties. 
“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”
“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”
He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”
You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal. 
“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly. 
“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”
You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”
“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”
You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.
He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure. 
He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down. 
“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it. 
You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling. 
“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”
Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you. 
“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”
You can’t even form sentences. 
He pulls away.
“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”
The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop. 
He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel. 
He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.
“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”
“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you. 
He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”
He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit. 
“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”
You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes. 
“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”
You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”
He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body. 
“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”
Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you. 
When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind. 
“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”
He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better. 
He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before. 
“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”
He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping. 
“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”
You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”
And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops. 
He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions. 
“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”
You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position. 
He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him. 
You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button. 
“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”
You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you. 
“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”
You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs. 
You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”
“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”
Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows. 
“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him. 
He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting. 
“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”
“Fuck it into me, Joel.”
The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements. 
He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him. 
You had never cum so much in one night before. 
Joel Miller made you cum three times. 
Without any help. 
You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit. 
He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby. 
“You want any water?”
You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.
“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”
“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”
Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”
“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”
You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.
“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.
“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck. 
His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier. 
You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible. 
“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”
You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly. 
-
You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes. 
When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked. 
And in Joel’s bed. 
You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs. 
“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”
He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house. 
“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”
Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.
“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”
Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response. 
“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”
It was a demand. 
She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close. 
“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”
You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend. 
“Go get dressed.”
It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct. 
Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything. 
You felt like a fool.  You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.
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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month
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Escape Is Mandatory
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platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 4
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
Summary: prison changed Spencer, and along with it were a couple of horrible choices bau!reader refused to tolerate, hence a threat to their years of friendship. But all of it disappeared as soon as an unsub threatened your life.
Warning: details of death, violence, and infidelity; curse word(s)
A/N: I can't believe it has been over a year since I posted this mini-series (me just disappearing out of nowhere, lol). This draft has been sitting for a year. I never published it because it felt boring (I still do, somehow), but I wanted to celebrate the series reaching a year old HAHA! Anywaysss, as usual, this might be heavy, so be mindful when reading. It's not my gif; credits to the owner :)
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
Luther Gerard grinned maniacally, leaning against his seat, "Let me guess... sister? Oh, but she's too pretty to be related to you." His cuffed hand caressed your picture on the table, "Lover, perhaps?"
Spencer's jaw clenched, "Where. Is. She?" His palms were itchy, breathing steadily as he kept them flat on the table.
This unsub was unlike any other serial killer he had encountered. Luther Gerard, age 38, is an average plumber but one hell of a genius, almost as dangerously intelligent as Spencer, with 186 IQ.
Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified to the bone. Because this time, the unsub had 83.248% outsmarting him, and the victim was you.
"Anyone wanna hear how I picked her up?" Luther glanced at the two-sided mirror, chuckling, "I'll take the silence as a yes."
He looked at Spencer straight in his eyes, "It was dim, but not too much. She was 40 feet away from the precinct entrance... 15 from you. She looked pretty mad when she turned her back, but she looked so hurt walking away. I can remember her tears. Oh, they were sweet and just a little salty. She knew I was there for her. She was going to scream for you. But what can I say? She was a second too slow. I was going to get your attention but she looked so good unconscious in my arms."
"You sick son of a bitch—"
It took Luke, Matt, and three police officers to hold Spencer back. His face was red, and Luke swore he was breathing fire. His knuckles were white as he grabbed Luke's shirt and a bit of the skin on Matt's arm.
Spencer escaped from being pinned by five people with minimal struggle, grabbing Luther's collar to the point of suffocation. "Where the hell is she?! Tell me where!"
Luther laughed out loud, watching as Spencer crumbled into an angry mess. "Listen here, Dr. Reid... you can be a point smarter than me as long as you can, but she will always be two points dumber than me. She'll die in that fucking warehouse."
Emily barged into the interrogation room, "Reid." She gestured at Matt to take him out of the room, leaving Luke to get the answers they'd been looking for the past five hours.
Spencer aggressively shrugged Matt's hands on his shoulders, "I can walk," His voice grew a little softer than seconds ago, but his tone still crunched with anger.
As soon as the door shut, Spencer turned to Emily, "She's dying out there."
"You're not the only one who's worried. She's our friend, too, you know. But we won't find her if you let your emotions take over you." Emily took a deep breath, giving him a concerned look.
Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. I'm scared." He dropped his head, letting a cruel sigh pass his shivering lips.
Despite his attempt to reinsert himself in the interrogation room, Emily forbade him from coming in contact with the unsub for the rest of the evening. So, he stood next to JJ in the conference room, trying to save you in the best way he knew how: geographic profiling.
"I should've known," Spencer mumbled under his breath.
JJ turned to him, "Did you find something?" She scanned the board in front of them, hoping that she'd see what Spencer was seeing.
Spencer loosened his tie, "The victims. The location. I should've figured it out the moment we briefed about the case. It should've clicked." He guiltily looked at JJ, "I should've kept her safe."
"Spence," JJ spoke motherly. "None of us knew she was the target. You have to know that none of this is your fault." She gave him a kind look, something he knew well to differ whether it was out of pity or genuine compassion.
"But it is my fault..." He averted his eyes from her. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in their eyes, much less the thought of yours, filled with tears from his stupidity.
JJ's eyebrows gently knitted, "Did something happen the last time you saw her?"
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
2 days ago...
The afternoon's fifth hour barely struck, yet the sky was already dark. The lampposts around the precinct were enough light to at least keep you and Spencer from tripping.
None of you have said a word for the past three minutes. You even missed Emily's nod. Both of you were too occupied to care. You: with the obscene sight you just witnessed and the burning itch to smack the back of his head. Spencer: with whatever internal conflict he was going through after coming back from prison, he refused to talk to anyone about.
With every step away from the might as well named crime scene, your lips slowly unfastened. Spencer had barely clicked the SUV's key when you began.
"She's married."
"She's unhappily married."
Your eyebrows clashed, "That's not an excuse, Reid. Your wrinkly brain knows that."
"Can't you just mind your own business?" Spencer rolled his eyes, treating your conversation lighter than you wanted him to.
"I would have if only you did," You looked at him with utter disbelief. No amount of blinking would erase the sight forever etched in the back of your curse of a photographic memory. "Her unhappy marriage was her business. That was her and her husband's business."
Spencer was growing impatient with you. The signs were easy to catch. His knotted forehead. Thoughtless glare. Clenched hands deep in his pockets. An obvious Spencer-is-pissed-at-you special tell.
He straightened his back, "I was just helping her out."
"Holy shit—" You scoffed a baffled chuckle, "Are you hearing yourself? Adultery and sympathy are not the same, Reid. What the hell has gotten into your head?"
Ordinary people wouldn't have cared. Luke and Matt would disagree and judge Spencer's stupid choices but would've kept their mouths shut. Emily and David would spit a bit of advice on how morally wrong he was, but they would have minded their own business for the most part. Tara would've been disgusted but refused to get herself involved. JJ and Penelope would have been utterly disappointed and angry at him, but they wouldn't have missed a chance to make up with him.
You, however, felt nauseatingly repugnant. Years of friendship felt like a thin layer of ice loudly breaking. He knew most of your uninteresting and failed romance. How often has he lent you a back to bury your face on? The number of times he's caught not two but four of your short-term lovers shamelessly cheating. He knew well enough, too much even.
"You know what I think?" He chuckled evilly. And you knew then he was aiming for your throat. "I think you're just jealous because you don't have the aptitude to get over your dead boyfriend."
Your jaw dropped. You half-expected him to say those words, but it still surprised you. It still stung. Your tears were fighting to flow, but you had enough self-respect to not do it before him, not with his shitty attitude, at least.
You gripped the hem of your blazer, "You're a jerk. That's what you are." You took a sharp breath, biting the overflowing ache on your chest. "Come back when you've got something for the case."
A second didn't pass after you turned your back on him, and the tears immediately trailed down your face. You walked out of the parking lot as fast as you could. Crying in front of your childhood classmates felt more gratifying than in front of Spencer.
Wiping the unwanted tears from your cheeks, your feet came to a halt without warning. Something about the fifteen-foot distance from Spencer's back and the forty-foot gap from the entrance to the precinct left you terrifyingly vulnerable.
Your gears began turning.
Victims were awfully close to your build.
You're in your hometown.
And it clicked a second too late.
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
"Spence!" JJ gently shook Spencer back to reality. As soon as she knew he was back down to earth, she immediately spoke, "They found another body—"
Spencer flew out of the door before JJ could even finish speaking. He went to Luke, who was on his way to one of the SUVs. "Where?" He asked in a rush. His heart was beating right in his ear. A series of negative thoughts filled his head.
Luke had a few seconds to tell Spencer where the said body was but quickly interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "We don't know anything yet, Reid."
"But what if it's her?" Spencer snapped. He had little patience for anyone. All he knew was how important it was to see a body that's not you.
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
"Fuck!" You cried in a shattered voice.
Tears flowed nonstop down your face, along with your own blood dripping from the top of your horribly bandaged head. Luther Gerard was evil enough to let you bleed slowly to death.
Unbeknownst to him, you were the most stubborn person in the entire BAU team. You bled your way out of the place he locked you in, cursing the pain off your chest.
You have been loosening the barbwire wrapped around your feet with your bare hands for the past hour. Your hands and your feet had gotten skinned off from the sharp metal.
Hope was on your side, though, as you felt your left foot painfully slide off the wrap. You cried out in joy, holding your ankles tight as if the pain would immediately dissipate.
You wiped your tears off your face, smearing blood from your palm onto your skin. You laughed, already delirious from lack of blood. "I'm going to break your neck once I find you. Then I'll beat the hell out of Reid for taking his goddamn time."
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
Spencer felt relief wash over him as soon as he glanced at the lifeless woman being pulled out of the creek. It may have been messed up that he was thankful a different woman died, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
He and Luke drove back to the precinct with a little less tense chests. They may not have found you, but the fact that you weren't the body they found meant one thing. You were still alive. That's all that mattered.
"We'll find her," Luke broke the silence between them, glancing at Spencer from his peripheral. "She's stubborn. She won't let anyone hurt her without punching back. She's probably on her way back to the precinct." He attempted to lighten the mood.
Spencer took a deep breath, "She better be." He looked outside of the car, biting his lower lip. "She has to escape wherever she is. It's mandatory. I'm not letting her die without finishing our argument."
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
It's been two days of searching every nook and cranny of your little hometown, but the team hasn't gotten anywhere in finding you.
Each member was exhausted, especially Spencer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't even if he tried to.
They were running out of ideas. But like every single cases the BAU team had, you knew how to turn things around. Their wake snapped up as gasps echoed in the entire precinct.
The team rushed to see the commotion and almost burst into tears as soon as they saw you.
"Oh my god..." JJ whimpered under her breath as she clasped her mouth.
You stood there by the entrance, bloodied up and half-conscious. You held the door's handle tight, painting it with your dirty blood as it kept you up on your feet. They could barely recognize your face from the mixture of blood and dirt on your face.
Despite your pitiful, bloodied state, you managed to show them your temper. "You better have caught that bastard." You growled weakly.
Your body was shaking from exhaustion. Just as you slipped out of consciousness, Spencer rushed to catch your body.
Tara called for a medic while Emily went to your aid. Luke and Matt went straight to work things out and give Gerard the worst news he's ever going to receive: it turns out you weren't as dumb as he wanted you to be.
Spencer gently wiped your face with his sleeve. He didn't care if it was his favorite shirt. All he cared about was how his best friend stubbornly stayed alive.
When Emily sat next to him to keep you off the floor, she saw just how much your friendship meant to Spencer. She squeezed his shoulder, "She's back safe with us, Reid. She'll be alright."
Her words prompted Spencer's sobs, tears trickling onto your face in hopes that it would wash the hell you went through for the past days. He quickly wiped them off, though. He knew well enough how you'd react to his 'filthy tears' coming in contact with your skin.
"Yeah, you better clean it off," You mumbled with your eyes closed, gripping the hem of his cardigan vest. You couldn't let yourself pass out, knowing you had a severe wound on your head.
Spencer choked a laugh, "Took you long enough. I thought I would have to save your ass." He sniffed as he let the paramedics transfer you onto a crash cart.
You scoffed, turning into a short series of coughs. "Just admit it. You can't figure things out without my brain power. Your brain's getting smooth, Reid. Prodigy no more."
The team couldn't help but roll their eyes at you and Spencer's banter, bouncing back faster than your recovery. Although they hated to admit it, they preferred the two of you that way rather than apart.
"I'm glad you're safe..." Spencer's voice became softer. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. This was the second time he'd cried nonstop. The first time being the love of his life's death.
He was glad this time wasn't due to someone important's death. He didn't know how he'd handle it if the person he could always rely on would leave him of this world.
As you were dragged into the ambulance, you gave all the rest of your strength to glare at Spencer. "Don't think you're off the record. After I deal with Gerard, you're next."
"Is it mandatory?" He sarcastically stated, jumping into the ambulance the moment you were settled in. He couldn't bear to leave you out of his sight.
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iwaasfairy · 5 months
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congratulations on your 15k milestone fairy!!!! i’m such a fan of every single one of ur fics, I’ve been here ever since u started publishing mirror and indelible and it’s been such an amazing ride!!! ur the best fairy, hope u reach 150k now ♡´・ᴗ・`♡
for the event maybe could u make megumi + stepcest? make it as dark as u wish haha <3~
:<<< I have a very sad kitty image that I wanna put in here but I can’t buT iMMMM Big emOtional yOUre so swEEETTTT
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tw (step)cest, jealousy, manipulation
Megumi knows he has you wrapped around his finger. It’s not particularly hard to see in the first place, watching you ‘hmm’ and gawk each time you do as he asks. He doesn’t think that you’re stupid, but you are naive, and just like the lot of them - you didn’t get enough attention from daddy. Ever since Tsumiki moved out, you’ve become even more clingy, sticky and pushy with your affection.
“You know that’s not going to stop me, right?” He asks, and watches how your big eyes flutter up at him like you’re trying to take a shutter the sight and print it into your brain. It takes a few seconds for your pout to appear, and heat to start prickling on the tip of your nose and ears.
“‘M not trying to stop you,” the hands you had wrapped around your tits to protect your modesty drop, as you glance down and step out of your panties too. “It’s cold in here, niichan~”
Megumi clicks his tongue, before putting the toothbrush back into the glass. He can do that later. “Then get into the bath already, shitty sister. I don’t know why you’re twirling around here in the first place.” He can’t help the snappy tone when it comes to you, truly, he does try. But the meaner he is, the softer you become. And how’s a man supposed to ignore your glittering puppy-dog eyes? He truly can’t.
“Are you getting in too?” you patiently ask, sliding into the hot water with slightly wobbly legs, like you’re a baby fawn taking its first steps. Megumi never really felt called to be a protector… but you are something else entirely.
His answer comes before the thought. “Of course I am. Move over.” You do, and he strips down and gets in like he says - but instead of any of this calming his hard-on, he’s only getting harder when your skin slides up against his and you sway the water when you get comfortable against his chest, dropping your head back onto his shoulder. “Gotta clean you up. Move your arms.” And his hands follow, kneading the soft skin of your tits with slightly rough touches.
“Nii nii?” He responds with only a hum, and runs his hands down your body a few times to slide your legs apart so he can fit a hand in between and trail his fingers over your pussy, putting more pressure on your covered clit until you start to melt against him a little. After a few soft gasps, you turn your face to hide against his throat. “Did you use to take baths with Tsumiki neechan too?” Your voice is too soft to make out any true undertone, but he still feels a slight smile tug at his mouth corners.
“Hah?” Of course he didn’t. While he appreciates both your older sister, he’s pretty sure she would have killed him if he had tried. She might still kill him if she finds out what dirty thoughts he’s put into your head now, too. Only you could be doe-eyed and obedient enough to let your big brother trick you into playing with your tits and pussy after hours. He pinches your clit between thumb and pointer until you squeak, and it sends you slipping down and out of his touch with a frown.
“‘Gumi niichan~ That hurts!” Your bottom lip wobbles as you stare at him, and more heat starts collecting on your cheeks until you look all flushed and drowsy and a little bit too distracted.
“That’s what you get for asking stupid questions.” He keeps your eyes for a second, before you finally look away in embarrassment and run a hand over your eyes. But when you try to get up, he pulls you back down into him and sloshing the water around more. “Hey, what- are you jealous?”
“No, ‘m not jealous!” You’re convincing exactly no one. And his grip on your wrist stays even though you try to wrong loose, before you eventually give up and you blink away tears. “God, let go, niichan. I don’t like you.” He takes hold of your head and pulls you closer until you’re nose to nose and he’s unable to keep the slight smile from showing up on his face.
“Gimme one kiss, c’mon.” You give him the saddest, most pitiful peck - before he leans in more and squeezes your face. “A proper kiss.” Those long lashes almost brush his when you look up at him and suck your bottom lip. But be it wanting to be done quicker, or actual want, you go back in and let him capture your mouth with his until he can push his tongue between your lips and force them open. Until you’re relaxing against his hold on you and your tits get pressed to his chest - slumped against the naked body of your own big brother.
After a bit of letting you kiss him back, he taps your cheek. “Get onto your knees, we gotta clean me too. You do it so well with that pretty mouth, right?’
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koolades-world · 16 days
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ok thought!
big brother mammon who acts like one to lucifer too because lucifer deserves to have someone to lean on too! this post was totally inspired by rock on haha
imagine this:
mammon dragging luci home after a night out drinking with a tenderness only an older brother would know despite the frustration at his stupidity
mammon bringing luci dinner after he spent his evening working and trying to disguise his worry
mammon cleaning up luci’s coffee cups and messes around the house so he’s able to enjoy a clean space
mammon buy luci his favorite candle scent and leaving it on his desk without a note
mammon picking up luci’s chores without letting him know after he knows he had a hard day so he gets a nice surprise when he goes to do them
mammon "scheming" with diavolo to surprise luci in all sorts of ways
just all the things mammon would never say to luci's face, but wants him to know he cares <3
"Ya know, for the little brother in this relationship, I feel like I'm draggin' ya home a lot more than I should. Getting wasted at Lord Diavolo's party isn't exactly a great look for ya." Mammon was carrying his older brother, Lucifer, on his back. They'd just left Diavolo's birthday party. As the right hand man to the Prince of Hell, Lucifer was obviously by his side the entire time. Every time someone offered Diavolo a drink, Lucifer would take it and down it himself to avoid him getting wasted and acting afool at his own party. The gesture was sweet, but of course it resulted in Lucifer getting wasted himself.
Mammon had been enjoying dancing with Mc when the two of them noticed Lucifer begin to act overly emotional and erratically. He was leaning heavily into Diavolo's side, looking close to tears and telling him he loved him. Beel was nowhere in sight, so Mammon knew he had to step up to the plate. While he didn't want to leave Mc alone, he knew one of his brothers would be willing to take his place. He flagged down which ever of his brothers that he saw first, which happened to be Satan, who was conversing with someone Mammon presumed he knew. After explaining the situation, Mammon left with Lucifer in tow behind him. As bum hurt he was about having to call it a night earlier than he'd wanted to, since he'd planned to stay at that party all night without a break, he knew Lucifer needed him more.
With his older brother on his back with a little help from Satan and Mc, Mammon set off on his way home. Mc had been the group's designated driver of that night, yet for some reason he didn't think to ask Mc to just drive them home. So, he resolved to walking because going back in would be too embarrassing, but it wasn't too far to home. The walk was mostly uneventful, besides Lucifer's sniffling and incoherent babbling. A few times he went off on a rant, and all Mammon did was nod and ask vague questions.
Once they got home, Mammon was quick to bring Lucifer upstairs. After opening the door to his room, he put Lucifer down on his bed. While the bed was made, a few empty cups and a large stack of papers sat on his bedside table. If it hadn't been for Diavolo's party, Mammon wasn't sure Lucifer would have left his room. He picked up the cups and moved the paperwork out of the way. He got a set of pajamas for his brother, and instructed him to go change, while he went back downstairs to get some water for him.
"Here. Drink this." Mammon passed the water to Lucifer, who was sitting on the edge of his bed and miraculously fully dressed. He took the glass without a word and drank half of it in one go. "How are ya feelin'?" He stood in front of him, hands on his hips.
"I'm tired." Lucifer told him. He then flopped over onto his back on his bed. With a sigh, Mammon rolled him onto his side and sat beside him.
"Get some rest then. I'll be here." Mammon's D.D.D. was dead, so he set it down on the bed beside him since Lucifer's D.D.D. was currently charging. Lucifer shut his eyes pretty quickly and Mammon thought he was asleep. Resolved to just sitting there, waiting, Mammon began to think about that night of fun he'd have before. He loved Lucifer, but the choice to drink that recklessly was stupid. But, it was because he cared so much, he was willing to make a fool of himself to prevent that same thing from happening to Diavolo, and potentially help him avoid harm. Mammon wasn't sure how many drinks he'd had, or what was in them.
The phone ringing interrupted his train of thought. His was dead, so he looked over to Lucifer's to see Mc was calling. After picking it up, he was greeted with Mc with the sound of the party in the background. "Hello?" They said.
"Hey, Mc. Somethin' the matter? Lucifer is asleep." Mammon held the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down.
"Oh, sorry. No, everything is fine. Just wanted to check up on you. Everything good there?" They lowered their voice.
"Yeah, thanks for checkin'. What time will ya be home? If ya know." Mammon looked over at Lucifer, who still hadn't moved.
"Soon. Belphie is asleep in a corner and Beel ate everything already, so they're tapped out. Asmo is still going, but I can pry him away easily, and Satan is ready to go when I am. I actually haven't seen Levi, but I assume he's in a side room somehere." Mc chuckled a little into the phone, presumably at something they saw.
"Alright. I'm stayin' with Lucifer. See ya later." Mammon waited for his goodbye to put down the phone. Once he did, he hung up and plugged it back in. He peered at Lucifer's face again. He looked normal, so he let himself begin to think again. This time, he didn't get far at all.
"Mammon?" Lucifer spoke up.
"Aren't ya supposed to be asleep?" Mammon looked back at him again. He was awake now, his crimson eyes searching his face.
"I don't say thank you enough." Mammon was taken aback by his words.
"Sorry?" Mammon blinked.
"Thank you. You really do care." With that, Lucifer shut his eyes again. Mammon was a little shocked, but smiled to himself. Lucifer could be so sweet when he wanted to be, but it just took a little Demonus in his system to make him say what he was thinking.
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luvtak · 7 months
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jealousy, jealousy, skz
✧ pairing 0t8 x gn!reader
✧ genre/tw fluff!!! disgusting beautiful fluff, the tiniest smidgeon of angst… jealousy (obvs), just boys being cute and whiny lol
✧ w/c 2262 (around 250 each)
✧ a/n literally stayed up all night writing this lmao, hope you like it <333
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Chan: So jealous immediately. I think he feels a lot of ownership over the people he loves, not in a weird toxic way, more like ‘these are my people and I'm going to love and protect them’ way, so when anybody looks or speaks to you in flirty ways, he gets uncomfortable really fast. Tries so hard not to make it noticeable or jeopardize your good mood, but is actually so upset about the situation it’s hard to hide. His body language changes right away, all of his easy posture and quick laughs disappear and all that’s left is little smiles and taut muscles. It has less to do with someone thinking his s/o is pretty and more to do with not knowing if the person is dangerous or not, and worrying for your physical and emotional safety–last thing he wants is for you to be hurt in any way, and having someone blatantly look at you reminds him that truly anything can happen :( I don’t think he could be jealous of the Kids at all, they’re literally his children like what are they gonna do? Thinks it's so cute when they hug you or ask for help with something, and wants more than anything for you to get along, so he’s only happy when you do. Only tells you he was jealous when you’re alone laying in bed at night, talking about anything and everything and admitting to be upset about the whole experience. Genuinely so confused when you tell him you know, and never learns that he is so obvious with his emotions–whether positive or negative.
Minho: Honestly, I don’t think he really does get jealous… He seems so secure to me that I feel like it wouldn’t even cross his mind to get upset, actually likes it a little–you’re beautiful and you’re his and he’s proud of that. Except for if it’s one of the other boys, then suddenly very annoyed and possessive haha. Not that he thinks any of them would actually do anything with you, but I think it just hits closer to home–like they could. He is a little mean about it at first, but it quickly becomes sulking, like a child not getting enough attention. His hold on your thigh gets tighter and his fingers wound with yours start pressing in more so it hurts a little, I can see him spacing out a little too–inwardly thinking about all the reasons the person thinks what they’re doing is alright. Most of the time, the boys aren’t doing anything, but something specific they do or say triggers the jealousy and won’t go away. He’s a boy who won’t come clean right away (even though you know exactly what’s happening), instead he waits till you go to bed to press himself on top of you and whine about how rude it was that they were flirting with you (they were not). Needs endless validation and physical reminders of your love for him before he goes back to being himself. Always acts like it didn’t happen in the morning and will laugh at you for thinking it was possible he could have felt that way, while having admitted to it 9 hours before. 
Changbin: Very, very cute about his jealousy. Would never mention that it bothers him, wouldn’t point out someone’s stares or ask you to change anything about yourself to garner less attention. Is so proud of his little baby being so pretty they get noticed, but that doesn’t take away the fact that people shouldn’t come up to you. His jealousy would be so specific, he wouldn’t really care if it was just stares or people checking you out, but as soon as someone tries to make a move he is seething. Stares them up and down and looks so intimidating that even you are a little shocked, keeps this attitude until you leave and then needs to be coddled and loved until he will be back to normal. Loves how close to the boys you are but hates how that means he has to share you, he loves being the only one to know special things about you and gets grumpy so quick when he realizes other people know things too. Becomes so, so, so clingy when he’s jealous–hands never leaving your skin, not even for a second. His a million kisses a day becomes two million and he will be stitched to your side. Needs at least a two week recovery period where he is babied and taken care of before he can get over the silly feelings and remember how in love you are. Will not admit to it ever, it could be years in the future and he’d still say you didn’t know what you were talking about. Tries to act so tough, but is really just the sweetest boy to ever exist. 
Hyunjin: Gets jealous over silly things and will make it your problem; most of the times it's just a joke, something to get you to fawn all over him and kiss him a dozen times. But because of this, it’s hard to tell when he really is jealous, characterized by melodrama and many questions asking if you’ve ever thought about not being with him come out after someone shoots their shot with you and fails. He is such a romantic that his s/o not being as fully in as he is would be something that would really worry him. Most of the time he can see how in love you are and recognize how strong your relationship is, but as soon as there is someone getting in the way of that it would be hard for him to ignore. I can’t see him getting too jealous over the boys, but would improvise drama level monologues of jealousy if he sees you sitting a little close to one of them on the sofa. One of the only boys where I think he would try to make it up to you, while the others may need comfort from their s/o, I think Hyunjin would feel guilty for second-guessing your relationship even if it was a completely normal emotion he felt toward it. Gives slow kisses and soft sorry’s for hours before he can listen to you tell him why you’re not mad. Loves so hard and so well that jealousy is such a malignant feeling to him, that he would try to separate himself and your relationship from it as soon as he could. 
Han: Truly his worst nightmare. He would be such a cozy, sweet, domestic partner that it would probably be pretty rare to go out somewhere instead of staying in, and his mood would be demolished so fast if someone was looking at you or hitting on you in any way. Overthinking and anxiety flow as soon as he notices, and really needs to work his way up to confronting the situation. I believe he would succumb to his thoughts a little and need a lot of comfort from you to feel better about it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, or think anything could ever happen, but it’s such a reminder of the uncertainty that life brings that it makes him sad. Another one who wouldn’t really get jealous around the boys, but there are specific situations that would bring him down a little–like say you shared a snack with Hyunjin or watched his favorite movie with Seungmin, he is about to become a murderer. Just couldn’t take you doing any casually domestic activity with anyone else that it would annoy him to see it happen. Will be in desperate need of kisses and cuddles to make him feel better, but if he is jealous enough he may pretend like he doesn’t want any just so you could insist and unconsciously give him that validation that he needs. Demands at least two days of pure movie time with you to feel fully back to normal, and will in fact throw a fit if those needs are not met. He is just a sweet, pouty baby normally so it’s not surprising that under the right conditions these traits get magnified tenfold, but it’s okay because he’s so cute. 
Felix: About to cry fr. I feel like he doesn’t like feeling any negative emotions associated with you, so when he does it hurts him beyond belief. Trusts you with his life, but as soon as he hears someone hitting on you he gets so sad. Hates that other people can talk to you lol, would rather the only people you speak to be your friends, his friends and your loved ones. He’s not possessive at all, but I do think he genuinely worries about people speaking to you and hurting your feelings or making you uncomfortable, so with the jealousy he is also just so concerned about the person's intentions. Sometimes I think he’d get really mad too, he is such a lovey person that there is no world in which everyone in the area doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend, so when anyone comes up to you he would also be confused at why they thought that was okay. Somehow gets even closer to you; fully wrapped around your bones like a secondskin, walking everywhere with you like you’re doing a three-legged race, a million kisses pressed everywhere his eyes can see. I don’t think he would get jealous about one of the boys being too close to you, he loves you all so much and trusts everyone that it wouldn’t even cross his mind to be jealous about it unless he was making a joke. He is definitely the fastest of all the boys to admit to it, he is so emotionally intelligent and kind that he’d let you know as soon as he felt it was a good time. In conclusion, he is a precious angel and we all know it. 
Seungmin: Genuinely the most annoying little gremlin. Turns it on you immediately as if somehow you asked the person to keep sneaking peeks at you. Literally starts making fun of you, mockingly saying ‘wow you’re sooo pretty’ to cover up how upset he actually is about it. I feel like he gets confused when other people find you attractive, not because you’re not, but because you’re his and he just doesn’t think anyone should be looking at you for too long. Will not listen to you that maybe if he actually acted like your boyfriend in public people wouldn’t hit on you haha, he doesn’t see how never touching you and constantly teasing you doesn’t read boyfriend. If it’s one of the boys he’s jealous of and not just some rando, god save them; the meanest glares and most biting jokes he can come up with. Fronts so much in public, but as soon as you’re behind doors he is all over you–kisses all over and a dozen reminders about how much he loves you. Laughs in your face when you ask him if he was jealous, ‘do you want me to be?’ with the biggest side eye. Although I do think he is secretly a huge sap when it comes to his s/o, and will not accept you thinking he doesn’t care even if pretends he doesn’t, so apologizes really quickly if he sees you getting hurt by the nonchalance. Even though he won’t admit to it for at least a week, (everyone knows he was upset about it), he’s taking that to his grave–at least until you look at him for a little too long and he gets freaked out and cops to it lmao. 
Jeongin: The fussiest little baby. Like seriously, pouting/stomping feet/crocodile tears fussy baby. See’s someone looking at you at a coffee shop and immediately begins overthinking: ‘do they like them?’ ‘Is that person cuter than me?’ ‘They know we’re a couple right? Right?!’ This all happens in a series of five minutes. Now, he isn’t the most touchy in public–mostly just a hand on your back or fingers intertwined in your pocket, but it should be obvious enough that you’re there together. Immediately stares at the person, all while pretending he isn’t upset, but you can tell right away. For one, the hand on your back suddenly wraps around your tummy to press your back against his front and his head leans down to curl into your neck. Secondly, and most importantly he starts whining about how pretty you are. Not in a cutesy way, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re good looking, so pretty that other people notice it too. His bottom lip is jutted out and his eyes are so wide, and you just know. You won’t say anything until you get home for fear of embarrassing him, but he’s noticeably more touchy throughout the day; holding you to him around the boys and glaring at any stranger who looks at you too long. Gets jealous even faster if it's about one of the Kids, has no idea why Chan would be talking to you that long and tries to will him away with his mind–is so embarrassed when you tell him what you were really talking about lol because it was definitely him. When you finally ask him about it later he’ll laugh and act like you’re crazy, as if he hadn’t been acting like a lunatic all day, until apologizing and yelling at you for being too beautiful. All in all very cute and pouty and very charming <3 
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© luvtak
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meanbossart · 3 months
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I appreciate how you write Astarion so, SO much. I feel like way too many fic writers infantilize him to a point where I honestly start wondering if I'm the one who misinterpreted him so badly.
I'd love to know more about what you think of his character and his arc. Personally I saw him and immediately went "oh god this guy is gonna be the irritating tumblr sexyman of the year🙄" and it took me until Araj basically to warm up to him. What were your initial thoughts and did they change much while playing the game?
OH thank you so much!!! That's a shame if it's the case, and a little surprising to me, to be honest! While he's definitely written be an aloof jerk a lot of the time, I always found him to be surprisingly mature and introspective whenever he's not dishing out witty remarks. He comes off to me as the kind of person who learned to benefit from seeming dumber than he actually is, overall.
HAHA I had a VERY similar experience, not just towards Astarion but all the characters, really (I really disliked Shadowheart at the beginning, too). I had only seen pictures of him and pretty much expected a vapid character that was being carried to stardom because of a talented VA - and because people go nuts for anne rice style vampires lol.
While I was definitely enjoying his voice lines from the start (Again kudos to Neil) I definitely wasn't expecting much else. He piqued my interest after so devastatingly turning my character down at the tiefling party without me even having inquired, and that's when I, the gamer, was like "well, alright, I GOTTA fuck this guy now" (this is also where DU drow's personality began to come out as you can probably guess)
Obviously, if you have two neurons to rub together you can gather pretty quickly that he's not trying to woo you because you're so interesting and wonderful, so I started getting curious! With that dynamic being so different from what you usually expect of romances in these types of games, plus the charming way in which he is written, I started being won over.
I think what really did it was how gradually his attitude changed when responding to new, mostly trivial dialogue options and doing his greetings as you earned his trust, and ESPECIALLY with how he responds to your tav when you express any kind of fear or insecurity during his romance - which was with a lot of sincerity and confidence in his resolve to support you, and in you as a person, a complete 180 from his usual front - Which, again, makes me all the more surprised to hear that he's often painted with such an immature brush.
And obviously he has a DEEPLY ugly side to him (if you've read ANE, hopefully it's clear that I know this, and that I like to explore it just as much as anything else lmao) but it's very interesting to me how it seem to always come in the form of outbursts, rather than a constant evil-streak, usually followed by a glimpse of self-awareness. It feels very much in line with someone who's actually making a great deal of effort to manage their RAMPANT emotions and going through a lot of internal conflict in the process.
GAH. Yeah if you can't tell by this friggin' thesis I just wrote, I love the way they wrote this character a lot and I was definitely proven PROFOUNDLY wrong in my first impression of him - which, if that's not irony at it's finest I don't know what is.
And as an aside! I also very much appreciate that he's a "queer" coded character who's effeminate (in the Old Homo kind of way, but I digress) and flamboyant, but taken Dead Fucking Seriously. With as much progress as we've made in LGBT rep in media, I still often feel like gay men will only get that kind of treatment for as long as they "Aren't That Gay" (I know Astarion doesn't have a set sexuality - But lets not mince words: stereotypes exist, and he fits into most of them) and as a thin-wristed gay guy who's a little too found of linen shirts, I can honestly say that experiencing a character like that helped me with my own confidence.
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concreteangel92 · 1 month
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The Predator And His Prey
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Noah Sebastian x female reader
18+
Warnings: mask kink, slight predator/primal play, dom/sub relationship, oral (male receiving) PiV, spitting, being restrained. Pretty sure that’s it.
A/N: I definitely had a lot of fun writing this! Noah in a mask will be the death of me 🥵 and I just really wanted to get my own story out there haha hope you all enjoy!
You didn’t know you had a mask kink until you met Noah.
You’d never looked at someone in a mask before and thought ‘take me!’ you’d never watched a horror film and fawned over the masked killer. Until Noah came along.
You’d been dating for a while now, there wasn’t much you hadn’t done with each other at this point, you loved each other, trusted one another and knew one another’s bodies like the back of your hand and had tried almost every kink and position you could imagine.
But you’d felt too shy to admit to Noah that seeing him with his mask on had stirred something within you.
It was a weird mixture of emotions when you first realised, you’d gone to watch your boyfriend’s band from the side of the stage. You weren’t prepared to feel yourself clenching on nothing at the sight of him in the mask. The way he towered over you, his face hidden apart from his eyes and lips, how menacing he looked.
It also slightly frightened you at first, why did it cause this reaction? Is it normal to feel that? But the more you saw him wearing it, the less you cared.
Noah hadn’t appeared to noticed anything that first time and bent down to give you a quick kiss.
“Wish me luck?”
“Good luck”
You couldn’t take your eyes off him, your cheeks were no doubt red from embarrassment.
You watched him go out to sing artificial suicide, seeing him in full confidence owning the stage, stalking around like a predator, singing and growling to perfection was enough to make anyone swoon but with the mask, it was a thousand times hotter.
You’d been to a few of his shows now, every time seeing the mask caused a flutter, Noah also seemed to appear out of nowhere with it on, when he kissed you before a show he held your neck just that little bit tighter, almost like he was doing it on purpose.
But he hadn’t said anything and surely Noah would have questioned your reactions by now if he’d seen right?
Tonight was no different, once again you were ready to watch from the wings, Noah had been off getting his mic fitted, he gave you no warning before you had a low whisper in your ear.
“So how long until you admit it?”
You turned around with a jump to see his mask covered face in the dim lighting, his outfit making his broad build look even bigger.
“Admit what?”
“That me wearing this mask is turning you on”
Your eyes went wide and you felt your cheeks go warm.
“I don’t know what you mean?”
Noah stalked closer to you, making you back up against the wall, his hand coming to rest on your neck with a gentle squeeze and his frame towering over you.
“Really? Then why do you eye fuck me every time you see me in it? Don’t be embarrassed angel, is it the danger aspect that you like?”
Your heart was hammering in your chest which Noah would have felt with his hand around your throat.
“I don’t know”
“But you like it?”
You nodded, unable to take your eyes off of him.
“5 minutes everybody!” Was shouted from down the hall, your heart sank as you knew Noah had to go.
Noah pulled you in for a deep, messy kiss by your throat before pulling away and gripping your chin tightly.
“Open”
You obeyed to his command, he tilted your head back and he spat into your mouth.
“Swallow it”
You did, your thighs pressing together as your breathing had increased.
“That’s my good girl, we’ll finish this conversation later”
And with that, Noah went off to the side of the stage leaving you up against the wall processing what had just happened.
A couple of hours later you were back at your shared home, Noah hasn’t brought anything up yet, he looked tired from the performance but definitely still full of energy, the ride back was spent talking about the home town show and how good he thought it went, you couldn’t bring yourself to mention earlier, Noah was obviously waiting for the right moment of his choosing.
Once inside, he said he was going to grab a quick shower and then he’d see you afterwards.
You quickly got yourself comfortable in a baggy top and shorts and you’d wandered downstairs to grab a glass of water to take up, you hadn’t been paying attention to your surroundings otherwise you would have heard that Noah was finished in the bathroom.
“I believe we have an unfinished conversation”
You turned around and nearly dropped the glass in your hand at the sight before you.
Noah was stood leaning up again the doorway wearing his ski mask and a pair of black trousers, his top half bare to show off his inked chest and he looked so sinfully delicious.
Your breathing became harder as he stalked towards you slowly.
“So my little angel has the hots for me in my mask eh?”
“Yes”
Noah walked closer until he was stood in front of you, removing the glass from your hand, making you feel much smaller than you actually were. You subconsciously started to move around him, your adrenaline starting to kick in and arousal running through your body.
“You nervous?”
You shook your head, a small smile was forming on your lips as you slowly continued to move around and started to back up towards the door, Noah following every step you took, his intense gaze never leaving your face.
“You can run if you like princess, it won’t do you any good. I expect you to be stripped and waiting in our bedroom by the time I get up there, is that clear?”
“Yes sir”
You turned around and went up the stairs quickly, hearing Noah’s footsteps not far behind you. Once in your room, you threw off your clothes, Noah wandering in behind you shortly after.
His eyes looking you up and down like you were his prey, he stalked towards you and ran his hand over your cheek.
“Safe word. Any time you need it yeah?”
“Yes”
Noah sat himself down on the edge of the bed.
“On your knees for me and show me exactly how much you’re loving this”
You got onto your knees in between his legs and he lifted his hips up as you pulled his trousers off, mouth watering at how hard he was already.
You wrapped your hand around and gave him a couple firm strokes before you took him into your mouth and started to hollow out your cheeks and moved slowly up and down, pulling an instant low groan from above you.
His hand came into your hair as if to guide you while swirled your tongue around him and sucked on his tip, pre cum already forming and leaving a salty taste in your mouth. You used your right hand to stroke him in time to your movements, Noah becoming increasingly more vocal.
“Fuck…that’s it baby”
Your other hand that had been resting on his thigh came down to gently cup and massage his balls while you started to move your head faster, sucking on his harder, and feeling how hot and hard he was in your mouth, you knew he wouldn’t last too much longer.
You felt a tug in your hair and pulled yourself off him while still stroking, even with the mask on, you could tell his skin was flushed.
“Move back a bit”
You shimmied back on the floor and Noah stood up, you knew he wanted to take some control back and you squeezed your thighs together.
“You’re doing so good for me baby, but you ready for me to take over?”
You nodded eagerly, Noah pumped himself a couple times while you opened your mouth for him and stuck your tongue out.
“Double tap my thigh if you need me to stop”
Noah kept his grip in your hair as he guided himself into your mouth, you relaxed yourself and Noah started to rock his hips back and forth, slowly at first to let you adjust but this didn’t last too long.
Your hands grip his thighs to keep yourself grounded, you looked up and felt yourself moaning around his length at his dominating appearance. The mask hiding most of his face but you could see his eyes were closed and mouth slightly open.
His thrusts were becoming more sloppy, you gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat and made your eyes water and you could feel your own saliva running down your chin but you didn’t care, you were in complete heaven watching him ruin you.
You moaned around him again and stroked his thighs, Noah looked down at you and pulled on your hair tighter while still rocking his hips.
“Shit…I’m going to cum, make me fucking cum”
You hollowed out your cheeks around him and sucked extra hard as you felt him finish down your throat, you swallowed down every last drop he gave you and didn’t stop until he pulled away.
Noah sat back down on the edge of the bed and pulled you up onto his lap and wiped away the tears that had run down your face. He gave you a lazy kiss, which was slightly awkward with the mask on but you still leaned into him.
He ran one hand down your stomach and you felt him run his fingers over your folds and he slipped one in.
“You’re fucking soaked”
Noah started to move his finger inside you which caused you to fall forward onto his shoulder, but he wouldn’t allow that, his other hand gripped around your throat firmly and made you look at him, adding another finger he moved them faster, your moaning coming out slightly choked due to the grip around your neck but god did it feel good.
“Look at you, such a whore for me, can you hear how wet you are? All this because of the mask, all you had to do was ask me baby and I’d have worn it sooner for you”
Noah removed his fingers and licked them clean and then positioned you back into the bed, he then went into the draw of the bedside table and pulled out some restraints.
“Normally I’d love to see you ass up, but tonight I think tided up on your back is best, let you see me ruin you with this on”
You held your hands out to Noah, desperate for him to fuck you now, you were so turned on it was unreal, you needed him to give you some relief.
He tided your hands up and restrained you to the bed, you now were completely at his mercy unable to move your arms.
“Spread your legs for me”
You opened yourself up to him, watching him pump his already hard dick again and his eyes stared into yours through the mask. This was probably one of the most vulnerable states he’d ever had you in, he looked so menacing and dangerous and you were so ready for what was about to happen.
Noah moved so he was in between your legs and lined himself up, he pushed in gently but didn’t meet any resistance and so he thrusted in all the way which caused both of you to moan out.
He wasted no time in pulling your legs up to his chest and he started an unrelenting pace, it was rough and hard and exactly what you had been waiting for.
“Noah…fuck…”
You were practically screaming, you could feel every inch of him, your arms were pulled tight as you held onto your own restraints, you stared at his strong frame pounding into you, the mask just adding to how good he looked.
You knew you wouldn’t last long, you could feel your orgasm approaching, your legs were shaking and you could feel your walls clenching around him.
Noah knowing your body, reached one hand down and rubbed hard, fast circles on your clit.
“Cum for me baby, let me feel you”
And you did, it wracked through your body and you cried out while your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut. And after a few hard thrusts you felt Noah empty himself within you and his body came down on top of yours.
You both lied there for a moment while the afterglow wore off and Noah pulled the mask off, his skin flushed red and sweaty. He reached up and undone your restraints and gave you a long, loving kiss.
“Wow”
You both laughed and cuddled up together.
“You can say that again”
“So I can safely assume that my mask can be used again?”
“Oh my god yes! That was incredible”
Noah lifted the mask up in front of you both.
“If only the fans knew what this mask has now seen the next time I’m on stage!”
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Kieran Duffy Mini Analysis
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Since I struggle to imagine how Kieran’s facial and body expressions are portrayed, I compiled some notes on clips and dialogue. Uploading for other Kieran fans to enjoy.
To the point: Kieran is not a stammering short coward. He is a plucky man who can stand his ground and leans into his whiny feebleness when his life depends on it. He’s funny and has more guts socially than much of the VDL gang!
I’m chapter 1, we get introduced to him with cowering after being slapped by Colm and fleeing rather than fight. Kieran isn’t a coward, more like a guy who squirms, lies, and pleads if his life depends on it. I suggest you read this post for more info on how Kieran’s apparent feebleness is an exaggeration he puts on to survive in a cut throat gang. After given time to wallow in the stables in Colter, Kieran starts putting up a fight and threatens the VDL gang with the O’Driscolls coming for them for taking him hostage. He fights his restraints and holds angry eye contact with his captors, only breaking breaking when the conversation ends and he falls over again. From what I can tell, Kieran always has a grumpy face whenever interacted with. He boldly says he’d rather die to Arthur’s face!
It’s in chapter 2 where his fight becomes more desperate from the starvation and abuse. He by no means gives up, he keeps up blabbering that he “ain’t an O’Driscoll” even tho he ends up divulging information and seems to know a suspicious lot about Colm and the O’Driscolls.
Mid chapter 2 and onwards, he mellows out into a guy who tries to be as nice and as unobtrusive as possible. He still keeps eye contact when speaking and even puts assertiveness behind some of his words. He has the guts to say to people’s face to leave him alone and stop fucking with him. He also doesn’t shy from grumbling and making “oh come on!🙄” gestures when verbally harassed by the gang. He visibly gets frustrated when called an O’Driscoll but he usually has to calm himself down till he can respond dejectedly rather than actually angrily. He did get upset with Sean and stand in front of him with no cowering to stand his ground when called an O’Driscoll (until he got headbutted).
He thanks people and sounds amused and surprisingly relaxed for his situation. (Idk how to explain it but) he has a smile in his tone of voice in some dialogue. Sometimes greets Arthur in a chipper way. Sweet! Even has the emotional vulnerability to apologize to Abigail about Jack going missing. Kieran asserts his value to the club by taking pride in his horse knowledge and fishing skill. He sternly Arthur he’ll “teach him something” when it comes to fishing. See, useful!
He is still easily threatened by the gang if they get up in his face or yell. He leans away, goes silent, slowly pulls his hands closer to his chest, and goes still when intimidated. It takes a few seconds before he relaxes afterwards. This is what I consider the extent of his cowardly behavior. He just shuts up and backs off. He only ups his pleading and squirming when his life actively depends on it.
Headcanon territory: after listening to ~7 minutes of cut Kieran fighting audio, I can definitely say that this man has some lungs on him! The rasp to his voice makes me think he’s worked his voice hoarse (haha, horse pun) enough times to leave permanent damage/evidence in his voice. I think he damaged his voice while with the O’Driscolls. When he’d be on a job, he’d rely on shouting threats and malicious taunting to intimidate the enemy since his looks aren’t that scary. Plus, if he was amongst a group of O’Driscoll during a gunfight, no one would get a good look at him as he dips out of cover to shoot, they’d just hear his raspy shouting about “cutting all their damn throats” and “this ain’t gonna end pretty, boys” (this one is my favorite because if you listen to the line, you can REALLY hear the rasp in the “boys”).
I’m gonna go out on a limb and say (whether he admits it or not) Kieran does enjoy gunfights. Kieran by no means asked to join a life of crime and I am sure he did NOT want to kill anyone at the start, but over time shit corrupts and feeling the power of firing and seeing his enemies drop gave Duffy a semblance of control back to his life. In a gunfight, no colleagues pay attention to him and he can simply enjoy his brief power trip.
A more wholesome HC: much of the cut Kieran audio has him talking or greeting the other gang members with friendliness. He’s comfortable enough to tease or criticize the VDL gang. I imagine these lines would’ve been for a version where he gets to stick with the gang long enough for him to be trusted and for him to relax into his natural personality! Kieran still has his mumbly quiet moments (usually when exhausted) but he also sounds like he’s smiling more and even making jokes. Even makes harmless jabs at Arthur if he returns to camp bloodied or dirty. Has the courage to ask questions (I can’t find the exact line but I heard a couple where he was asking Arthur what he was doing in “his space” and if he needed to borrow “his things” so Kieran was either given or claimed ownership of stuff) and set boundaries (many cut quotes of Kieran asking others to buzz off or give him space because he wants to be alone). He’ll even express his anger if you push his buttons too much. After ramping down his nature to be this declawed version of himself, I imagine being no only bark but bring on the bite feels amazing.
Tldr: Kieran isn’t your baby girl. He is a kick ass ex-O’Driscoll who is a great asset to the VDL gang.
I also wanna mention that this post utterly changed how I thought of Kieran. I suggest giving it a read!
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egot1stical · 8 months
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ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes
Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities
Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:
* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses
* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.
* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs
* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed
* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like.
Wow! You're not Simon!
* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.
Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.
Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane
The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.
Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now
Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again
also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?
Anyway
The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.
CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.
That’s all I got
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lumiconic · 1 year
Text
" first kisses "
✧ kunikuzushi, shikanoin heizou, yae miko, childe, collei, albedo ; fluff ; 5.6k words
✧ collei ended up being way longer than the others haha
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  kunikuzushi has voiced his discomfort with touch many times, when you took his hand in the darkness of an underground cave, or patted him on the back after he negotiated out of a sticky situation, and every time you let go instantly without question, and didn’t touch him again for days and days. and yet now, he finds himself longing for the caress of your hand, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you.
   it’s a bit troubling, and he crushes the instinct every time, but it always comes back, wandering into his mind at the worst of times; in the midst of battle, you spin after lancing a treasure hoarder through the chest, and all he can think is how beautifully a spray of blood frames your face, leaving him motionless in the air for a moment, just enough time to be slammed to the ground, skidding through the dirt with the wind knocked out of him.
  you shout his name, panic lacing through your tone, and he curses himself for his stupidity as you spin a flurry of blows against his attacker before rushing to his side. he struggles to a sitting position, wincing as he fights to draw air in. how could he do something so dumb? to be distracted by you of all things while fighting? you, that stupid [name] who is so – who is nothing more than a hindrance, but –
  and then he’s struck dumb again as you kneel over him, inspecting for wounds without touching his skin even for a second. he wants to run his hand through the strands of your hair, left in a messy state and hanging softly around your jaw. you locate a bruise on his leg and dig for a salve in your pocket, unscrewing the top and handing it to him.
“jeez, what the hell was that?” you say, affection and irritation mixing in your voice. “how’d you get so unfocused, huh? we’re in the middle of a fight! you can’t just drift off like that and leave yourself open.”
the words wildfire frustration through his blood, anger that he can’t explain. how dare you act annoyed by his mistake when you caused it in the first place? “it’s your own damn fault,” he spits, voice more venomous than usual. he regrets it when your eyes widen and you look almost hurt, then confused. “wait, what? what did i do?”
  what did you do? he repeats the question in his mind. it’s more like – it’s just, it’s what you won’t do that’s driving him insane, and how you don’t even notice – how can you be so oblivious to his internal dilemma? the way he looks at you, even he knows it’s so far beyond the sharp rivalry you enjoy, or even friendship.
"you – i got distracted by you,” he says, and hates the way his voice cracks, hates how your face softens when you hear it. “because your face is – it’s – ” so unfairly pretty “ – so – so ugly, and – ” he can feel his blazing red blush raising. “ – and i couldn’t focus, damn it!” he finishes. “so change how you look or – or just shut up about it.”
  you look shocked for a moment, and then understanding appears on your face, the kind that makes him even more angry for reasons he can’t explain even to himself, and you half smile at him, hesitating for a moment before tucking a flyaway strand of dark hair behind his ear. he flinches away from the sudden touch and you jerk your hand back, mouth already opening, but then –
  then he catches your wrist, holding it where it is. and you both sit there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. your eyes, that are full of feeling and thought and human emotion, and he can only imagine that you see your reflection in his own fathomless irises, as cold and empty as a puppet’s black button eyes.
“kuni,” you say in a hushed voice. he can feel the pulse of your wrist, quick as a rabbit’s, and his own breathing is suddenly coming fast and shallow. the moment stretches out, some expression of surprise and hostility frozen on his face, and yet he can feel his own yearning. the pain in his chest as his eyes flick down to your lips. you swallow, tilting your head to catch his gaze. his face flames even brighter, but there is no mockery or judgement in your expression; just a soft, understanding longing.
“can i kiss you?” you ask softly, and his heart is in his throat, fear that mingles with aching, and there is nothing in the world he wants more in this moment than you. before he can think twice he gives a quick, tiny nod.
  you move closer, and he smells your gentle, clean scent that reminds him of rain or orange blossoms; the smell that curls through his dreams, and he has a second to think you even smell pretty, before you press your lips to his, and then he’s not thinking anything at all but there is a drifting, incoherent feeling of plain, serene happiness that he has not felt in a long time.
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  shikanoin heizou has kissed people before; he’s kissed lots of people, more than he thinks is socially acceptable. he’s kissed most everyone he wants to. almost nobody can stand up to the full power of his charm and charisma, with his boyish good looks and the boundless intelligence behind his jade green eyes; sometimes just a single wink can do the trick.
  kissing is entertaining, for him, there’s no deeper emotion behind it. just something to do when you want to have some fun. he’s flirtatious, and maybe irresponsible, but it doesn’t cause anyone any harm, these shallow feelings that entwine with his playful, immature desire. he’s never wanted someone before. never felt a deeper pull than the one in the moment that can be satisfied with just a moment of contact.
  until now; until he met you; and now he is consumed by the dream of what your lips feel like. you are elusive, and enigmatic, and the most beautiful person he has ever met, with soft and sweetly knowing eyes that are earnest and yet unreadable to him in a way that no one he’s met has been before. it’s a foreign feeling, this yearning, and he wonders with a twinge of guilt whether he has taken this role for another person before with his casual inclination to flirt.
  he’s sitting beside you, leaning against a tree with his elbows balanced on his knees. you’re toying absentmindedly with a flower, tearing the petals off one by one, and his gaze is determinedly on the sky and not the way the light glints on your long eyelashes.
“do you think you’re a good kisser?” you ask suddenly, eyes still fixed on the flower as you open your palm and watch the soft petals flutter away in a breeze. his gaze flicks to you, and he’s taken off guard, but only for a moment. “depends on your definition of good,” he says evenly. “i’ve had a lot of practice.”
you laugh so hard you have to steady yourself, and it wounds his pride just a bit. he can’t tell if you’re making fun of him. you take a deep breath and then smile at him, eyes sparkling with some private joke.
“i’ve heard,” you say. “you’ve got no shortage of admirers here in inazuma, huh?”
“or anywhere.” he gives a small bow, and you laugh again. the sound sends a burst of satisfaction through him; a tiny victory, maybe. he always feels as though he’s accomplished something meaningful by making you laugh.
  you go silent, looking at him with a small grin that is, as always, indecipherable. he shudders as a tiny gust spirals up his spine, but keeps his eyes on you, trying to maintain his composure.
“what about you?” he questions, balancing his head on his hand, in as even and cool a voice as he can manage. “are you a good kisser, [name]?”
your smile grows. “good enough,” you reply easily, stretching out your legs and yawning. “probably better than you. why? do you wanna find out?”
  he swallows. his palms are slick with sweat, and he clenches his fingers into fists, taking a beat before he opens his mouth. you watch him without a word, looking more serious than you did before.
“yeah,” he answers. his voice is hoarse, but the easiness of the word is almost surprising. after everything, it was this easy? if he had known that – that the key to gaining this opportunity was simply to flirt like he did with so many others – ?
but no. you are different, somehow, almost off limits unless you initiated the interaction. he wants nothing less than to overstep with you.
  he repeats his assent, clearing his throat, and your eyes light up, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. you lean in, and he closes his eyes, and –
  and, your kiss sends him dizzy; you taste like the sweetest strawberries in the height of summer, and your lips are softer than he could have imagined. for that moment, there is nothing more than you and him in the world. he could float away on this high, like dandelions on the wind.
  you pull away first, and he fails to steady himself for a moment, face flushed with surprise and heat. you’re really so lovely, he thinks, barely able to put together that one clear thought; your face is knowing, and your mouth still slightly open. you swipe your thumb across your lip.
“i – ” he stammers. you smirk, tilting your head, and he swallows. “i’m definitely a better kisser than y-you,” he says, trying to regain his posture, but with you so close, your eyelashes nearly brushing his cheek, he can barely think straight, let alone speak with his normal wit and charm.
you roll your eyes at his attempt to recover. “you still think so?” there is laughter in your voice, mocking but not quite malicious. he nods, wiping the back of his hand across his face, and opens his mouth again – only to be silenced with a second kiss.
  maybe … maybe, you actually are better than him, he reflects silently as you cup his face, deepening the kiss. not that he really has a problem with that.
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  yae miko wears the same teasing smirk every time you see her at the shrine, a smugly knowing expression of pure superiority that both irritates and captivates you. she takes every opportunity to demonstrate the sheer amount of knowledge she possesses over you, reveling in the way she’s able to shut you down with only a few words, then covering her mouth and laughing daintily, eyes crinkling with mirth as you scowl.
  of course, you can’t be entirely displeased with your situation, as she does instruct you properly in what to do. you know that there are many who would give their right arm to be in your place working underneath her, and indeed you do have a prestigious position as one of the attendants at the shrine. but she seems to enjoy exerting her power and intelligence a bit too much.
  you can’t decide whether you’re flattered or just plain annoyed by the attention she pays you, the way she seems to delight in your crestfallen face as she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a mix of condescension and disappointment that paints her in melancholy, but the sparkle in her dusky purple eyes gives her away.
  this time is no different; after waking up late, then sprinting as fast as you could from your small house in the countryside, then climbing the enormous mountain as quickly as you could to reach the shrine, you’re suffering through yet another lecture for the mistake you made while your head was still clouded with sleepy panic. you deserve it, technically, but – extenuating circumstances don’t seem to matter at all to her.
“ah, [name], yet again you’ve brought the wrong talismans,” she says, tilting her head and cupping her cheek. “goodness, how many times will it take you to collect the correct ones? you’re acting shockingly unexperienced. i’m starting to wonder whether it isn’t on purpose. do you really value your job so little? if that’s the case, i may have to replace you … ”
  you can practically hear her honeyed laughter as you stare at her, pink lips quirked into a secretive half smile. you look away, then back, sinking into a deep bow and keeping your eyes squarely on the ground so she can’t see the anger bubbling in them.
“please, lady guuji, i’m sincerely sorry for my mistake,” you utter in as apologetic a tone as you can muster. “i promise on threat of losing my job that it won’t happen again. this morning was especially hectic, and i’m very sorry for it.”
  her eyes brighten and she nods, gesturing you up. you raise your head, expression steady, but there’s still a hint of frustration that must show, because her gaze grows a bit darker with displeasure. you brace yourself for another apology, but when she speaks she almost sounds saddened.
“oh dear, you look so troubled.” she closes her eyes, shaking her head. “you know i’m only hard on you because i care, right … ?” her voice is soft, and she twirls a lock of hair around her finger as she talks, “i know it must be frustrating having to hear my criticism all the time, but it’s not for no reason. i simply want to see you succeed, and i do believe you can achieve great things … with my help.”
you’re shocked by what she’s saying; she’s never praised you or offered any genuinely encouraging words before, and her tone is nothing short of caring. you can almost accept her words as genuine, if not for the teasing glint still in her eyes. “okay,” you say quietly.
she blinks. “[name]!” there is some blend of hurt and shock in her voice. “you don’t believe me?” you stay silent, which is apparently enough of an answer for her, and she presses one hand to her chest. “my goodness, have you thought i simply disliked you this entire time?”
  she looks genuinely disturbed and wounded for a moment at your silence, and then – smooth as silk, it melts into a knowing smile.
“you must know that’s not the truth,” she almost purrs, taking a step closer. “i have nothing but appreciation for your hard work, and hold you in high regard … truly, it’s so hard for me to believe that you were of such an outlandish opinion.”
you open your mouth, but she presses one finger against your lips. heat rushes to your face from the contact. her eyes gleam. “really, i don’t understand how it could have turned out like that with all of the special attention i pay you … maybe i should have been more forward from the beginning, hmm?”
  she leans in and kisses you, and your eyes fly wide open with surprise before closing as she presses closer. her eyelashes are long and tickling your cheek. her mouth is so soft. she tastes like – like some archaic tea blend, the gentlest sweetness and bitterly fierce at the same time, and you’re so shocked she’s kissing you that you can’t even think straight.
  and then it’s over, as suddenly as it began; a spark flicks over your lips as she pulls back, one delicate hand on her chest and giggling softly at your dumbstruck expression. you touch your mouth, and she laughs harder at the disbelief on your face.
“oh, [name] … such a naïve and unexperienced cutie,” she says, and this time hearing your name on her tongue and her calling you unexperienced sends not vexation but a shock of excitement down your spine.
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  childe keeps his affection for you no secret. he never has; somehow, he missed the memo to be cagey and quiet about his feelings, and instead every person in the nation of liyue (and probably beyond) knows about his “love”, as he calls it, “for beautiful and elegant [name], for whom i would buy everything in the harbor just to win a single smile from their pretty face.” you have a suspicion that tonia is writing scripts for him.
  he is everything but quiet, loud and brash and bold in everything he does. to you, he is shining and happy and gleeful, always laughing and offering you things, endlessly smiling. you have never seen that expression leave his face once; he is a shallow man to you, nothing but a flatterer with all glitter and no substance. you have never felt anything romantic towards him, but he continues trying.
  you’re picking sweet flowers and jueyun chilis one day, shrouded in autumn’s gold and amber leaves, but the cover of the trees does not shield you from the sight of approaching fatui agents. one brandishes a knife, flickering in and out of sight, and another holds a cannon. both are outfitted in armor, while you have no weapon or protection.
“w-what do you want?” you stammer, holding up your hands defensively. the man with the knife’s red eyes glimmer. “pay your dues,” he snarls, and advances closer with swift movements.
you hold nothing but flowers, and your heart is thrumming in your ears as flame licks at your feet and arms, causing you to wince with pain. you’re caught, you don’t have any money, and there’s nowhere to run.
  and then, he appears; red half-cape thing you’ve mocked so many times billowing in unseen wind, his eyes glowing menacingly. for a moment, you’re afraid of him, but his face softens when he sees you, nodding as if to say he’ll handle it, and an unfamiliar feeling of relief rushes through you. then he turns his attention on the fatui, expression hardening back into anger.
"what is going on here?” he says, voice thundering with barely restrained fury. the fatui go silent and still at the sight of him, a fact that confuses and almost scares you, but you’re too busy scrambling behind him to think about it. the fatui drop to their knees. “lord tartaglia,” the hydrogunner says mechanically, “we were simply collecting mora from this citizen – ”
  he sweeps his hand, and the man instantly is quiet.
“leave, now,” he says. the fatui protest for a moment, but he flicks his wrist and a long blade made from glimmering blue water appears in his grasp. he spins it casually, with deadly skill, and says, “do you really want to test your skills against me? this is an order. i won’t ask again.”
  the fatui go silent, then bow and vanish simultaneously, and you both release a breath. almost immediately, his threatening aura is gone. your heart is still pounding.
“[name],” he starts, turning and rubbing a hand down his face. “are you alr – ”
  you cut him off by throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him; he makes some startled, half muffled noise and you have to choke back a laugh. once he recovers his balance, he leans into it, with the easy confidence you would have expected from him, and yet … something about him is holding back; you can feel it in the grasp he takes on your hips as you cling to him, his hold light and ready to let go at any time.
  when you pull away, he’s smiling with a tense mix of giddiness and anxiety. you’re suddenly struck with self consciousness, looking away and tucking your hair behind your ear. you can’t believe you just did that. he rescued you, in a way, and it felt like – for the first time, you were seeing him as more than just a bored friend with too much free time. like he actually cared about you. like you meant something to him, something important.
“does this mean you – ” he says. his voice cracks just a bit and he cuts himself off. you cross your arms over your chest, managing to keep your expression even, and thankful that your hair covers the sides of your head; you can feel fluster coloring your ears bright red. “it means whatever i say it means.”
“so? what do you say it means?” he asks, meeting your eyes with a rueful look on his face. there is some measure of resignation there, something that says i know how you’re going to answer, and you decide to prove him wrong.
“it means i like you, moron,” you say before you can hesitate, and as his eyes – blue as the sea, and empty as its cavernous depths, but archons they really are beautiful – widen you pull him into a hug and bury your face in his shoulder, still trembling slightly from the stress of the encounter.
  he says your name, and somehow this time it carries weight behind it in a way it never did before. but you only close your eyes, taking in his scent, a mixture of dried flowers and ocean spray, that you never found comforting until now; now, you hope you’ll never leave the embrace of his arms, and something about the way he holds you makes you think if that was what you wished, you could stay like this forever.
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  collei has bright, sparkly eyes, the color of amethysts; she has a smile that appears on her rosebud mouth with the grace and loveliness of a blooming flower, and a voice like a sweet, chirpy dove. she is pretty; even beautiful, but – you could never say it, not to her or anyone else. maybe it’s the trust in those shining eyes when she looks at you. or the way she grabs your palm, her hands warm, as she pulls you to the newest patch of blossoming florets.
  it’s like she’s sure of the fact that there is no secret in the world you hold from her, even though this one – your heart pounding when you hear her laugh – is the biggest you could be possibly hiding. you won’t tell her, you swear to yourself, that you love her, because that’s what it is, really. it’s love, plain and simple. you won’t tell her, because she’s too good for you and she’d never reciprocate.
  but this furious heartache, leaving you staring into space to dry out tears, is – well. it’s far from pleasant, but as long as you keep seeing her smile, you …
“you’re zoning out again,” she scolds, waving her hand in front of your face. you startle, blinking, then bow your head and apologize sheepishly as her disgruntled expression comes into focus. “ah, sorry collei, i was just … thinking.”
“i’ll give you something to think about,” she giggles, irritation replaced by excitement. “how ‘bout that?” she points at the sky, and you look up at the gathering grayish blue storm clouds. “we’ve got a rainstorm rolling in!”
  she loves bad weather and rain for some reason you’ve never understood. you wrinkle your nose, pointing out it’s monsoon season. the storms can flood through entire sections of the forest; if you stay on low ground where you are, the two of you could be drowned.
“we’re too far from the village to turn back now, what should we do?”
she taps her chin, thinking. “let’s … let’s head to the deeper part of the rainforest and climb a tree, so we’re high off the ground and just wait it out.”
you salute, smiling at her quick thinking. “you’re the boss.”
  in the time it takes you to reach the thicker sections of the rainforest and locate a suitable tree, the rain’s already started, seeping through your forest ranger’s clothing. she quickly constructs a makeshift umbrella out of thick leaves and sap, sliding it into the crook of two of the tree’s limbs. you watch her work, fast and capable; she really has grown from the childishly fumbling amateur she used to be. you take a seat underneath when it’s finished.
  she sits cross legged, with her face tilted up to the sky, eyes closed as raindrops burst over her skin and slide down her cheeks. she looks peaceful and happy. you’re curled into yourself, the chilly rain soaking you to the bone, and are about to comment on her stoicism when her serenity is broken by a violent shudder.
instantly, you peel off your jacket and tuck it over her. “you’re gonna catch your death of cold if you don’t get under here,” you say, pulling her underneath the umbrella. she sputters, but her teeth are chattering hard enough to break up her words into staccato.
“b-b-but [name], you’re gonna be c-cold too if you don’t have your jacket,” she protests, but you shake your head. “you’re colder, plus you made the umbrella, so just take it, alright?”
  she looks at you, eyes wide with such a cute expression – surprise, sincerity, gratefulness – you almost forget how to breathe. you look away and sit back against the tree, breathing slower, trying to preserve the heat you have left.
“i like you,” she says suddenly, and your heart practically stops.
  your head snaps to her, seeking for the expression of apology for such a dumb joke, or maybe innocent thankfulness, saying thatin such a childlike way, but – no, what she’s displaying is sincere, real affection, her face colored with a red blush. your breath catches.
she sits forward, tucking your jacket tighter around her. “i mean – not to say something silly and unexpected, but i really – i really, really like you, [name],” she says, her tone sweet, shaky and genuine. “i-i can barely focus sometimes ‘cause i’m always thinking about you, and just now, you gave me your jacket, even though – ” she presses her fists to her face. “i can’t keep it a secret anymore, s-so – even if you don’t feel the same way, i – ”
what ... ? as if i never felt the same way? no -- i truly, always --
“no!” you interrupt. “i like you too! i … really do,” you say, trailing off into a whisper. “i’ve liked you for so long, i can’t believe you … ”
  it’s quiet, then. neither of you says anything for a long moment.
“i-if we like each other, we’re supposed to kiss, right? i’ve never kissed someone before,” she whispers slowly, blushing furiously and stumbling. “can i … can we … ” her voice trails off and you wait, heart pounding in your ears. “can we … try it?”
you try to speak, and nothing happens at first, you’re so frozen with shock. you clear your throat, managing “really?” the word is awfully loud in the silence broken only by drumming rain, and she looks even more embarrassed, but nods anyway.
“okay,” you breathe. “okay. i … i’m gonna kiss you now, and – and if you don’t want me to, just say no, and i’ll – i’ll stop.” you wait for her to nod again. she’s trembling, and you can’t tell if it’s the cold or a nervous excitement. you have never seen her smile wider.
  you lean in and press your lips to hers. you can hear your heartbeat, and maybe hers too; she smells like flowers, of course, and the kiss is a sugary, clumsy, chaste thing. but it’s her, it really is, and she is flawless. she always has been. so it’s perfect too. and when she pulls away, that’s what she whispers to you as she wraps her arms around your neck.
  so that was the first kiss, awkward and new and genuine … and perfect; just like your beloved collei; and you can’t wait to kiss her again, and again, and again.
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  albedo has always been handsome, but lately his beauty – that’s the only word for it, really – has been nothing less than otherworldly. you’re far from the only person in mondstadt to admire him, as he’s quite traditionally attractive, and polite as well; though of course less savory rumors surround him as well. as the knights of favonius’ chief alchemist, there have been quite a few whispers of his eccentric side and his strange experiments.
  this is far from a deterrent for you, however. you’re actually quite interested by his research and find it enjoyable to spend your time in his lab, helping out and simply accompanying him through his explorations of dragonspine. still, your intrigue in alchemy isn’t your only reason to partake in his studies, of course. no, not just his looks, either, but everything about him, really, from his habit of tugging on his gloves when he’s confused to the endearingly blank tone of his boyish voice.
  but of course, that unfair loveliness is the first thing you always notice when you see him, and it doesn’t go away. it’s what keeps your eyes riveted to the strands of his fluffy hair, dusted in the last few moments of sunset and a light haze of wintery white snowfall as you sit beside him, clutching a cup of hot chocolate and trying to keep your body still against the biting cold of the mountain.
  his bright blue eyes are relaxed for once in his life as he crosses his hands in his lap, staring up at the puffs of thick clouds against the rapidly dimming sky. he’s gorgeous, in a way that seems almost unreal, like he was sculpted from clay and brought to life as the perfect boy. you watch him in silence, affection crinkling the lines of your face into a wistful smile as the minutes pass.
“[name]?” he asks, turning, and you start. “uh – um, yeah?"
“what’s your type?” he says. your breath catches.
the question is almost innocuous, and yet his closeness, the slight blush across his face in the frostbitten landscape, has you shocked, your lips parting for a moment. his eyes flick to your mouth for just a second, then back up to your eyes, and – no, you must have imagined the way his cheeks grow just a shade darker pink.
“my type?”
“yes, sucrose has been telling me about romance, such as the oblivious and pining trope, and star crossed lovers,” he says serenely. “they seem to be very popular in mondstadt, i’ve seen many young women reading romance stories lately.”
  oh, you think, with a mix of relief and disappointment, he only wanted to know for his data analysis, as usual. well, there’s really no harm in answering; he’s been so oblivious about your feelings, anyway, he probably wouldn’t even be able to pick up on what you were saying.
“smart guys,” you say honestly, “people who are straightforward with what they want, and they should be devoted too, to what i’m interested in, plus the relationship itself. though, none of it is as important as them being a caring and kind person.” you smile thoughtfully. “i never would have expected this from you of all people, albedo.”
“ah, sucrose said the same thing,” he says almost sheepishly, “but i thought it could be – ” he clears his throat, swallowing before he continues. “ – interesting, to … engage in this sort of thing more often. it’s more exciting than i would have thought.”
you try to ignore the skip your heart makes at this, and prop your head on your hand, forcing your voice to a nonchalant tone. “really? so, have you thought about it a lot? what’s your type?”
  you know you don’t imagine it this time, his face blushing a bit redder, and it sends your heart into your throat and your pulse racing, though he keeps his balance and steady voice when he speaks after blinking slowly. despite yourself, you of course want to know his answer.
“people who show their feelings easily, and are willing to be patient,” he says, slowly, tapping his fingers on his knee. “and … i agree with you, that it’s important for them to care about my own pursuits. i think – it’s a sign of a good person who makes a dedicated effort towards partaking and showing interest in my work. someone who’s worth keeping.”
  his voice – such a stupid thing to focus on, and yet – he sounds like it’s you that he means, there is some meaningful quality in his tone, as calm and collected as ever, and yet his voice is warm, like a beam of sunlight cutting through the shade cast by a thick forest of trees. he’s looking at you, with those eyes that are as blue as the sea, and you can barely breathe.
  he leans closer. sunset has long passed by now, and the moon is gleaming bright in the velvet blue sky. the pale silver light throws his pretty features into shadowy definition, and when he kisses you, his gloved hand cupping your face, his lips are warm despite the cold; your eyes are closed, and yet all you see are stars.
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© lumiconic ; please reblog and follow if enjoyed
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normal-internet-user · 9 months
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Hi there! i read your percy one and it was sooo so good, i was wondering if you could do “I didn’t know where else to go” with a percy x reader. and it could be like some sort of an enemies or rivals to lovers, i’m also a huge angst girlie and idk why.
thx so much hope you’re doing so well and have the best day!!🥰🥰❤️❤️💙💙
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I'm a total angst girlie too, make me an emotional mess please and thank you-
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SCARED FOR YOU
♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡
Summary: Percy Jackson shows up at your front door bruised and battered, god this boy was going to scare you to death..
Warnings: Angst; mentions of injury (not very descriptive); Hurt/comfort; No mentioned godly parents for reader.
Requested: Yea
GN Reader!
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The last thing you ever expected to see at your door was your very own son of Posiden on the verge of unconciousness.
"Percy?! What the hell happened?" You let out a low grunt when he practcally collapses into your arms.
"I didn't know where else to go." He whispers, shuddering.
You huffed, hauling him into your apartment. Luckily your parent was at work, so you didn't have to worry about explaining anything.
You moved him to the couch as gently as you could, finally taking in the full stretch of his injuries.
"Oh for the love of Zeus, Jackson." You mutter, your heart racing, "Just- sit still. I think I have some ambrosia squares in my room."
"'Kay..." Percy mumbles, his hand pressed tightly to his side while his face was twisted into a grimace.
You rushed to your bedroom, digging around in your bags and drawers until you found the little tupperware container that held your emergency ambrosia.
You then moved to the apartments small bathroom and grabbed as many medical supplies as you could carry.
With your arms full, you ran back to the couch, nearly tripping over the rug in your hurry. You haphazardly drop the bandages and other stuff onto the coffee table, handing Percy afew of the ambrosia squares.
You decided to speed up the process by getting Percy a glass of water, but with the state he was in, he'd still need patched up.
"Were you followed by anything?" You asks quietly, lifting his shirt to clean one of the larger cuts the ambrosia couldn't deal with.
"No, I wouldn't have showed up here if I was." Percy says, setting the now empty glass on the table, "Thanks. For helping me."
"Well I'm not just gonna let you bleed out on my foorstep." You grumble, wrapping his chest, "You're an idiot. Ya know that? What were you thinking? You know what, nevermind. You weren't thinking."
"Aw, are you worried?" Percy asks, seemingly amused at how upset you were.
"Of course I'm worried!" You snap, glaring up at him, watching the amusement fade away. God he was so insufferable. Stupid Percy Jackson and his dumb pretty face.
"You could have died, Percy." You say angrily, pushing alittle harder than you mean to on one of his bruises, "But everythings just so funny! Haha I'm Percy Jackson and I don't care if I get eaten by a friggin' monster! Everything's just dandy!" you rant through gritted teeth, stomping over to the trash can to toss out the bloodied cloth you'd used to clean his wounds.
Percy stares at you for a second, before guiltily looking down at his shoes, "Sorry..." He mutters, "I uh.. didn't mean to freak you out."
"Well mission failed, Percy." You say, before taking a deep breath and sitting next to him on your couch, "I just... dammit- your really important to me, okay? If something happened to you-" You cut off your own sentence, crossing your arms.
"You scared the shit outta me.." You whisper, wiping away the building tears with the sleeve of your sweater.
Percy sits silently for a second, then he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer so your pressed flush against his chest.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, his head tucked away in your shoulder, "I'll... be more careful.. just please don't cry..."
You sniffle, wrapping your arms tightly around him, careful not to irritate any bruises that still remain after the ambrosia. You press your face into his hair, the few tears that escape your eyes getting caught in his black curls.
The two of you sit there like that for gods know how long, just seeking the familiar comfort of each others touch...
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This one took me a minute, but I think it turned out well. Lyn Lapid is the best writing partner ever, her music helps me focus SO MUCH-
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What if Rafal couldn't save Rhian in time? Like Vulcan successfully stabbed him with the pen before Rafal could prevent it?
The comedic answer is that I have one word for you: gibbeting.
That's the more "fun" answer, a form of medieval execution/torture, which was specifically intended to make an example of someone, publicly, to deter further criminal acts, and if Vulcan murdered Rhian, well, he deserves the worst death possible! And why not make it a creative one? However, I think, to an extent, that gibbeting could be too extreme, and that Rafal would recognize that if Rhian were alive, he'd view it as an eyesore, tasteless, or simply too brutal, so it's probably unlikely to happen. But, Rafal might not be above it, considering that the Doom Room exists, so it could go either way, potentially.
Plus, there's some added, bonus "fun" here, in how a certain canon moment would come full circle. Vulcan put Rafal in a birdcage (while he was a black sparrow), and now, Rafal would get the pleasure of hanging Vulcan (or rather, his slowly dying and later, decomposing body) up in a cage, a pretty neat form of revenge, if I do say so myself, haha! Besides, Vulcan was a bit exhibitionistic, wasn't he? So, this would also make for an ironical fate.
Now for the serious answer. I hope you don't mind it if I get a little more subjective/personal with this one at some point. It's not quite as much an overblown, narrative-style post, and may be more understated than usual.
I took this "what if" ask to essentially mean: how would Rafal react to Rhian's death and how would he mourn Rhian over time? If I misinterpreted your ask, and this wasn't the kind of response you were expecting, please let me know. Also, everything is speculative, of course, so take my interpretations with a grain of salt. I'm open to hearing other opinions!
I think Rafal's immediate, knee-jerk reaction would probably be to murder Vulcan as revenge, but also it would serve the more practical reason of disposing of the tyrant usurper, ousting him from the School permanently. However, I don't think Rafal would find catharsis in it, not this time at least, considering why he is doing it.
He'd have to act on his feet, and quickly, because, Vulcan would still pose a threat to his own life, which would force Rafal to delay any kind of visceral, emotional reaction.
That is why I think the murder would be done instantaneously because speed is more important, and so is getting the task done right. And, having Vulcan dead sooner for everyone's safety is more important than the potential brutality of any kind of gruesome catharsis Rafal could derive from the act. That's why I think Rafal would go about performing this particular murder in a less sadistic fashion, for once, like how Vulcan died in canon by a stab wound, versus the time when Rafal turned Rufius to gold and shattered him, or did worse to others, generally. If Vulcan had simply been a foe who was already incapacitated, that could've given Rafal the opportunity to go for a worse form of murder, but Vulcan isn't harmless.
Thus, employing a "kinder" form of murder in this instance wouldn't be out of sympathy for Vulcan, but more so, to fulfill an urgent need. And, in some sense, the act of murder would be done out of a kind of duty to Rhian, for Rhian's sake and nothing more. I think Rafal deriving pleasure/catharsis out of this murder could possibly be a bit of a slight to Rhian's memory because this is somber business.
Then, after that adrenaline or rage-fueled clarity and the action taken, I think Rafal would next probably feel some kind of uncomprehending fog next because Rhian was suddenly ripped away from him with little warning. His supposedly immortal brother, who was supposed to be with him forever, just died. To an extent, that has to feel surreal.
The surreal feeling could start out as a detached, dissociated feeling, like the kind of out-of-body experience where you're like a third-person observer, (probably a similar feeling as a panic attack?) Like, what? What has my life become? Rhian is suddenly gone, for good.
(The revelation of Rhian's death being real could also prompt a lot of thought as to why their bond wasn't able to save or revive Rhian, and could evoke guilt.)
Once Rafal processes the implications of Rhian's death, his initial outburst could be the most, actual, unbridled emotion he lets out, at all, if ever—maybe, one raw, primal scream of agony into the ether and that’s it. (Yet, I'm also tempted to say, that's too dramatic of a reaction, even for him. As interesting as it is to go to extremes in other cases, I'm attempting to go for something closer to realism here, so bear with me.)
While there is probably a narrow chance, that under the exact, right conditions, he could be driven insane or become an extremist in some way, out of guilt or by how ridiculously unjust the whole situation would be, I think it's a little more plausible that Rafal would just bury himself in his work. He could devote his life to Evil, and still keep it in balance with Good, without Rhian there to keep him in check, even if he was more often the one to keep Rhian in check, from what we saw. (He could also become disillusioned with the world and the Pen.)
Given how I view Rafal, I think he would shut down emotionally but not functionally. He wouldn't let himself dwell on the grief for long, and he might even (irrationally) resent Rhian for dying, at first, on the surface, because he's now got twice the work. And yet, the work would be a welcome distraction from his actual grief.
Additionally, I think Rafal would become numb and immune to all emotional appeals from other people. Not even a trick like Hook reminding him of Rhian would work to convince him to change his mind that he's already made up in any future instance. He's never, never investing himself in the fate of another person again. Not when he could lose them. He just... does his job. Someone has to do it after all.
That said, I think his paranoia level would absolutely skyrocket, too, as a result of the whole Vulcan incident, and that he'd isolate himself more than he already did before.
Now comes the part where this may or may not take a weird turn, and I could be projecting with what I'm about to say, but I think I have actual reason to apply it to Rafal, purely out of thinking it could make sense for him, (as just one of the many possible ways he could take Rhian's death. Again, this is all just my speculation. I could easily be wrong, so keep that in mind.)
Ok, I'm not sure if this is a common or a weird thing to think and I had a feeling it could be controversial. Thus, I'm going to preface it with this: my intention is not to sound callous, but...
I (usually) do not miss people when they are gone. (Death is different from just absence though.)
I doubt that I "miss" people in what is the typical way, from what I have heard from others? Though, I have an explanation. Obviously, it depends, but missing others doesn't occupy my every waking thought. (And thoughts about fictional characters are a different type of thought to arise.)
I feel others' presence when they’re around, and when they’re not around, unless I'm concerned for them, I don’t exactly think about them. It's kind of "out of sight, out of mind," except for the cases in which I actually am holding something to say to them in mind for our next encounter.
I’m sorry if this is strange, but I think that’s how I operate most of the time. I don't "wait around" for people to return because I always have some thing to occupy myself with. Can anyone relate?
I suspect that the reason why is because, to me, missing someone is what I would classify as an active feeling. When someone I love is apart from me, I'm usually busy, regardless of whether they're present or not (that doesn't change), and I know that when you're busy, you don't have the time to feel, at least not active emotions. They just... don't occur to you? Or maybe they are not conscious?
Now, from my view of things, if something you feel becomes a problem, and interferes with your daily functioning or general contentment with everyday life, that could very well surface as a real reaction or outburst. But, that's an entirely different matter. I also think that I am reminded of people at times, but that I usually don't "miss" them without there being some kind of (internal or external) stimuli that causes me to think about them.
Maybe, I'm just projecting onto Rafal too much because I relate to him over other characters, and this is silly, or junk psychoanalysis, but it seemed to fit his character also???
Sometimes, I just want recognition more than I want actual companionship since I don't get lonely. I wonder what that says about me? That I'm an introvert, or lazy because relationships require regular maintenance to sustain them? I promise I'm not a misanthrope!
Ok, back to Rafal. He's sunken himself into his work and as such, he wouldn't actively miss Rhian. (If anyone would like more clarification, I'm not saying he wouldn't grieve Rhian at all. It's not that.)
And, if we're going down a more realistic than dramatic route, he wouldn’t lose his sense of self, or his mind over Rhian. Yes, not even Rhian. I think the only thing keeping him running and tethered to his life would be his commitment to the School/keeping himself alive.
What this makes me think of is how people romanticize grief or unrequited love, how they may end up looking wan and eventually wasting away (well, if we're talking about being heartsick in literary/symbolic contexts...). And, I just don't think Rafal would be the type of person to fall into some kind of "madness" or melancholic malady. Grief just wouldn’t be so debilitating or all-consuming to him because he wouldn’t let it do that to him. He wouldn’t stop eating or sleeping as I would expect these behaviors more from someone like Rhian, not him.
Similarly, he might not indulge in pleasurable things, but he’s a bit of an ascetic already anyway, so that’s that. He could potentially renounce pleasurable things in life out of mourning, in a traditional way, but I doubt that would happen either, to be honest. It probably wouldn't cross his mind. At least, it wouldn't happen on a formal, conscious level, even if he could very well deprive himself without realizing it.
I just don't think Rafal would be engulfed by grief, simply because he isn’t that much of an emotionally driven person or that vulnerable to being swept up by personal tragedy, when compared to Rhian, who's more "wild." He’d only let his grief manifest so far, assuming his emotions do still remained locked down and under his control.
So, while he may think about Rhian regularly, he might just accept the fact of Rhian's death, carry on, and not miss him because Rafal missing Rhian could (implicitly) mean becoming non-functional due to grief (or guilt) and that would be too great of a risk for Rafal to take, considering his current reality alone. Basically, to let himself wallow in those emotions would be an unnecessary "risk," from his viewpoint. That's why he might repress that reflective type of thought.
Such feelings would be too much mess or potential disorder for someone like him, especially if he realized he couldn't keep them contained, and they, as a consequence, actually jeopardized his fate or the School's, assuming the grief made him unable to perform his job properly.
(He'd probably subtly resent the Storian as well, for not preserving Rhian's life.)
Also, one small point: in canon, was his bond with Rhian really, truly all-consuming? Let's stop and ask ourselves that for a moment.
Yes, for a time, their bond may have seemed like it was priority no. 1, but Rafal was apart from Rhian for six months, and might not have consciously missed him, if it took him that long to return after getting an external reminder from his interactions with Hook. It might have taken something outside of himself (like the prophecy) for him to come to the realization that he had to return and reestablish his loyalty to Rhian (which was arguably never gone, just dormant for a while). And this would mean that if left alone to his own devices, had he never been moved by James, or "awakened" and been made aware by Adela Sader, he could have taken longer than even six months to return... if he ever decided to at all, if the thought ever arose in the first place.
So, overall, it would only be rarely, when he has nothing to occupy himself with, that Rafal would grieve in some quiet way, and over time, the grief would fade. It wouldn't leave him entirely, but it would diminish, I think, the more and more he distances himself from everything else.
Also, in canon, I suspect that he lies to himself about how much he cares for Rhian. He never shows Rhian much affection, but he sacrifices his life for him, on instinct, which probably means a grieving Rafal would also lie to himself about how “little” he mourns Rhian. In reality, he’d probably mourn Rhian a great deal more than he could know, but wouldn’t have enough self-awareness to realize it.
Perhaps, at night, he would be haunted by Rhian's memory, and take on Rhian's insomniac trait on occasion. Also, to credit @cursed-daydreamer, I think it would be plausible for Rafal to take on a few of Rhian's traits, unconsciously, to compensate for the loss, and fill his void; it could be a way of keeping Rhian's presence in his life.
Lastly, I doubt that Rafal would publicly erect monuments or dedicate anything to Rhian. He wouldn’t want a painful, visual reminder around. His rituals, if we were to call them that, any form of remembrance, I mean, would likely be private, away from prying eyes and students. Rafal wouldn't want to come across as weak or sentimental. That’s the last thing he needs at the moment, a ruined reputation, another so-called threat to his own life/power. Because, increased paranoia could lead him to believe that if he were to show any sign of vulnerability, more "Vulcans" could prey on him and the School.
He could maintain the cherry blossom trees though, but it'd always be a sobering occasion, and he'd never take the credit.
Besides that, he probably wouldn’t go eulogizing his brother or canonizing him. He can still recognize Rhian's flaws, and to praise Rhian so completely would be "too much," too public, and the performative (or contrived) nature of certain mourning customs like those would probably strike him as "wrong" because they just seem... insincere. I don't think Nevers (if we're assuming Rafal remains Evil) put as much much stock in praise anyway, according to their value system.
The exception to the rule would probably be if he recognized that it would be Rhian's wish, to receive some recognition or a dedication. Then, he would do it, out of reverence, I think. He'd have reason to "excuse" it (Rhian's dying wishes), unlike visible emotions, which don't have an excuse to be felt.
Also, I was wondering: does anyone agree or disagree? I'm really curious because this ask provoked a train of thought I'd never considered before!
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