#a truly inspiring crossover | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

almostempty · 2 months ago

Text

Cargo

(joel x f!reader, din x f!reader, frankie x f!reader) | wc: 4.9k | other fics | Ao3

summary: smuggler!joel finds you and brings you to his partner in crime, with a side of gratuitous smut and a special guest along the way (full spoiler summary under the warnings/tags)

note: this is for my lovely @auterdelabre, and it was inspired by the line you wrote when i joked about joel using “cargo” as a pet name (and a couple other things i had to mix in there)

extra note: i hope this can bring a lil distraction in light of the heavy reality of today, fuck fascists – just don’t fuck them

warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, smuggler!joel, dubcon, oral, piv, degradation, ‘whore’ and one (1) ‘slut’, truly pwp - like the plot is just p, pls let me know if i missed anything important, weds warnings: doin’ it/fillin’ it up unprotected with no consequences bc it’s fiction and in the words of Wu-Tang Clan’s Ol’ Dirty Bastard in Shimmy Shimmy Ya - Ooooh, Baby, I like it raw; f!reader is able-bodied–this time this bish has hair that joel can worm his fingers into, no y/n, likely many mistakes bc i yam who i yam

FULL SPOILER SUMMARY: crackfic crossover: star wars smuggler!joel finds you and y’all fuck, he brings you to his partner dark!din and y’all fuck, but surprise! smuggler!joel and dark!din were your co-stars for your independent porn. your bf, Frankie (who played the Mandalorian), is just so turned on watching you edit the video that…you guessed it! y’all fuck)

The clear water rushes downstream, rippling around your legs as you step toward the bank and the soft grass. The sunlight filtering through the forest canopy makes the surface of the stream sparkle like glitter. But, you. You are the star of the scene.

You glow like you’re a creature drawn from the sun and the soil, from the woods and the water. Crystal-clear droplets of water race along your skin, rolling over your curves and dripping back into the current to flow down, down, down to another body of water.

You appear meditative, attuned to nature's tranquility, disregarding the universe's relentlessly unjust chaos. The ugliness and the violence. The balance. The dark.

Joel lurks in the trees, waiting to make his presence known. Holding out for an opportunity to strike. He creeps out of the treeline with deft precision, like a shadow. You’re only partially dressed, still bent over your bag, searching for something when he gets close.

“Don’t think you’ll need to worry about that anymore.”

He’s not loud, but his gruff voice still disturbs the serenity. A jarring interruption to the leaves rustling in the breeze and the birdsongs echoing above. You take one long breath before you look him in the eye. Dropping your bag, you raise your hands in surrender.

You have nothing. No weapons, no defense, no chance of getting far if he’s tracked you down already. “How did you find me?” You square your shoulders, standing your ground despite your disadvantaged position.

“It’s my job,” he replies simply.

He circles around you slowly, appraising you, eyes roaming over your exposed skin. Your tight shorts and thin undershirt don’t leave much for him to imagine, but you refuse to shrink or hide. You assess him yourself, and realization spreads across your face. You mutter his name aloud. Joel.

He pauses just behind you and hooks a finger under the thin strap along your shoulder, teasing down the skin before snapping it like a rubber band. You stifle a wince. Just because he has you alone and barely dressed in the wilderness doesn’t mean you intend to give easily. You keep your chin raised in a proudly defiant stance.

Joel chuckles dangerously at you, stepping closer. He rests his large palms atop your shoulders. It would be a sweet portrait of the two of you if it weren’t for the reality of the circumstance. Instead, his body is oppressive, so broad compared to you that it’s like you’re caged in, locked in a gravitational pull towards him, despite being in the open air.

Your distaste for his presence has your body rigid and tense. You’re holding your breath as he leers at your body over your shoulder. His fingers dig into the flesh over the ridge of your clavicle like the claws of a predator ready to fly you away or tear you apart.

“Are you going to come along willingly now?” he asks. The bass of his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite his furnace of a chest radiating into your back. The question hangs ominously between you. The or left unsaid.

You swallow slowly, muttering an agreement and turning so you’re face to face. Your eyes dart across his features, and it’s strangely intimate. Something heavy in the closeness of your mouths, the shared breaths you take. His humanity is so apparent. You could reach out to trace every line of his face, but his stoic expression morphs into something sinister.

“That’s too bad,” he tuts, disappointed, “I was hoping you’d put up a fight.”

You scowl, shifting your weight to lean away from him. He laughs harshly at your response. It’s a grating, barking sound, baring his teeth.

You’re still thinking about what he was hoping for as he binds your wrists together, but he’s not revealing anything else. He grabs your upper arm and begins leading you toward the dense trees. You stumble, adjusting to his pace and trying to find your stride.

“Where are you taking me?” you complain, trying to jerk your arm out of his grip, but he’s latched on tight. He’s unfazed by your attempt to break away from him as if it’s a natural part of his day-to-day to wrestle with an unwilling companion.

It’s an exertion to keep up with him; he moves with purpose and little regard for you. Unaware of the small branches and shoots of new growth in the forest whip at your face, arms, and ankles. Uncaring that they obstruct your vision as you let him lead.

You take his strength, size, and foul-tempered look apparent from his profile. You follow half a step behind, visibly less enthused about his single-minded pursuit.

“Not far.” He’s blunt. Unhelpful. Answering you without a glance in your direction.

“What do you want with me?”

“That’s not my decision,” he shrugs as if he isn’t talking about what happens to your life. Not wasting a word to ease your panic.

“Who sent you?” Fear cracks through your voice. Ugly and raw.

“Don’t know.”

He’s so short with you. Brutish and rushed. Trudging along indifferent to your world crashing down.

“You don’t know?” There’s an edge to your tone, frustration apparent. Joel shoots you a scathing look. He has a handsome face, but his dark eyes show no kindness.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He turns away, looking forward as you make your way along.

He moves confidently, like a force of nature. Twigs snap under his boots as he creates his path without regard for the destruction.

“Then what’s in it for you? Why not just let me go?” You press sulkily.

“I get paid for delivering you, not making decisions, sweet thing.”

His response is gross and detached. Sweet thing. The pet name drips with sarcasm. You’re just an object. You scoff at him.

“You’re despicable,” you cut under your breath as you weave through the underbrush. Disgust warps your features as you make your way along.

“Watch it,” Joel snaps. A low tolerance threshold. Fitting for a surly smuggler.

“It’s true,” you snap right back. He doesn’t take it lightly, stopping and yanking you around roughly so you’re facing him again.

“You’re heartless,” you jab, “scum. You don’t care about anything but your own profit.”

Fed up, he backs you into the nearest tree. The bark digs into your shoulder blades. His hand grips your throat menacingly. His face is so close to yours. The deep line between his brows, the depth of his dark eyes, and his plush lower lips are all you can see.

“Keep it up,” he goads. His fingers are merely a threat, resting along your arteries. Tempting you to talk back. “We both know you aren’t innocent,” he adds.

You snarl at that, arguing that he doesn’t know the first thing about you, but he only grins darkly.

Joel enjoys the way you detest him. He also enjoys the sight of you pinned under his hand. The way it only takes one to have you helplessly trapped. You’re still muttering insults at him, but he’s ignoring your words. He’s too interested in the arch in your spine tilting you towards him. The rising and falling as your breath is shallow and quick.

Your thin top is still damp from your dip in the water, and from his point of view, it’s a scene that deserves to be photographed. You seem so delicate in contrast to him. His wide palm covering your throat, his vascular forearm so masculine against your supple skin. You look at him through your lashes, your eyes narrow and scornful, but his eyes trail down as your voice trails off.

Joel has a perfect view of your hard nipples under the thin material of your shirt. The fabric clings to you like you’re in a wet t-shirt contest, and the longer he stares, the more he starts to lose his sense of urgency in taking you anywhere.

“What?” you interrupt his ogling, forcing your features into a disapproving glower to overcompensate for the breathlessness.

He’s amused by your contempt and disobedience. He can tell there’s a struggle forming beneath the surface. The twitch between your brows where they threaten to saddle in pleasure if he applies the right pressure. The lust flickering behind your eyes. The disdain tugging at the corners of your frown only makes his blood run hotter.

“You think you’re better than me,” His voice drops, sinfully low. You stare blankly, not arguing. “You think you’re special,” he continues cruelly.

“You aren’t.” His fingers squeeze along just the sides of your neck; playing god with you, he restricts the blood pumping through your arteries. “No, sweet thing, you’re just another runaway whore with a bad attitude. That sure as hell doesn’t make you special.”

“I’m not a whore.” You spit his words back in his face.

“No?” He mocks, tilting his head and dragging his eyes over your frame. His lecherous gaze highlights your compromising position. You’re on display for him, at his mercy, alone. It all comes into focus as your throat runs dry. “Could’ve fooled me.” He lifts the pressure off your neck, and the blood rushes to your head.

Your gasp switches into a tight frown. His cocky smirk only widens.

“Argue all you want, but your body doesn’t lie,” he coos arrogantly.

“Can feel your pulse beating faster,” his fingers massage deliberately at your neck. You steel your breathing, eyes searching for something on his face to focus on. Something to ground you. But he leans in close, his breath hot along your ear. “So desperate,” he inhales deeply like he’s cataloging your scent, “just for me?”

His other hand traces the angle of your jaw.

“Maybe that’s just a human response to being pinned to a tree in the middle of nowhere by a smuggler,” you hiss.

“Maybe.” He releases you, and you stagger forward at the sudden loss of support. Losing your balance and unable to steady yourself with your hands bound, you’re toppling forward to your knees as Joel half catches you—stopping you from landing with your face in the dirt.

He shakes his head at you in disbelief. Every time you move, you pose just to tempt him. Here you are on your knees, glowing in the soft light as you tilt your face up at him. The fear that flitters over your face twists into something else. Something that makes you both pause.

Joel moves first, resting a hand on your cheek. Reflexively, your lips part, and he can’t stop slipping his thumb into your mouth. You try to recalibrate, reversing the involuntary responses, but he’s already seen them. The way your breath hitched and the way your eyes darkened.

He raises a brow slightly, entertained by how easy it is to read the signs. “It’s too late to hide it.” He pulls his thumb back, dragging it slowly over your bottom lip and down to your chin, leaving a trail of saliva that catches the light and glistens. “You think I can’t see how bad you want it?”

You shake your head lightly in defiance, murmuring that he’s wrong and dropping your gaze. You’re sat at eye level with his belt and his one hand with the thumb hooked on a belt loop. You study every ridge of his hand, the scars along his knuckles, the sun-tanned brown skin.

The bulge highlighted by his fitted jeans catches your attention, and you look back up to meet his eyes.

Joel slips his hand past your face, fingers weaving into your hair, cupping the back of your head. He doesn’t add much pressure, and you don’t have to lean far to rest your cheek along the worn denim on his upper thigh.

“Yeah,” he growls above you, “take it out.”

You move hurriedly, dissolving your denial. It’s easy work to unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his jeans, even with your wrists bound. You wet your lips unconsciously as you tug the band of his boxers down until his cock springs free. Only half-hard, it hangs imposing and proud. So close to your face, you can see the tiniest twitch as he responds to your warm breath fanning over his skin.

“Get to it,” he orders.

You blink up at him, resistance fading on the tip of your tongue. “Or get up so we can get a move on; doesn’t matter to me.” he challenges. You curl your fingers around the base of his shaft. It’s smooth and hot under your fingertips. Experimentally, you run your tongue along the underside. His fingers tighten their grip in your hair.

You open wide, laying your tongue out flat, and he guides you. Joel’s eyes are glued to your mouth as he slides his cock past your lips. You stare back, studying every expression that crosses his face. His hard eyes don’t soften, but you could swear his blinking slows. The hint of a snarl deepens as he picks up the pace.

Using you. Fucking your wet mouth until he’s pressing into the back of your throat, seeking more.

Your eyes tear up, but he doesn’t stop, and you don’t resist.

You quickly acclimate, working in rhythm, breathing, taking it all. When your eyelids flutter shut and a moan buzzes in your throat, Joel laughs darkly. “If you aren’t a whore,” he pauses to make a throaty noise that spears right to your core, “why do you take my cock down your throat just like one?”

You choke at his assertion, and he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air.

“Not a very good one, I guess,” he says flatly, yet with a particularly pleased expression still faintly etched in the lines of his face. You wipe the spit coating your chin onto the back of your hands.

He doesn’t reach for you again; instead, he takes his cock in his own hand. Impatient. Slick with your saliva, he strokes himself lewdly, grunting with pleasure as he flicks his wrist.

“You’re deranged,” you mutter, voice hoarse.

He doesn’t like that. He moves without a word, shoving you forward onto your elbows and knees. He holds you down against the soft grass with one hand as the other crudely pulls your shorts down. He runs his palm along the curve of your spine, over the contour of your ass. Both hands grip the back of your knees, readjusting you to his liking.

Then he takes his time.

Kneading your ass and thighs, landing one firm smack on that has you jolting forward, cheek pressing flat into the grass. The sharp sensation disorients you and leaves you sucking in air.

Joel is undisturbed by your reactions. He takes both of his thumbs to spread you open wider, revealing the glossy sheen of your core. Your cunt drips, slick and swollen for him.

“You think I’m so despicable,” his gravelly voice makes your mind fuzzy, “how come you’re so fuckin’ wet for me?”

You can only manage to whine into the ground, pushing back towards him. “You don’t move,” he says harshly, one wide palm gripping your hip to hold you still. When the blunt head of his cock glides along your seam, you let out a broken moan. His fingers dig into your soft flesh in warning.

He pauses, with his tip resting at the core of your throbbing pussy, to marvel at the visual before sinking into you. You gasp at the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. You don’t have time to adjust before he’s pulling back and slamming into you again. He drags against every nerve inside of you, intensifying every motion.

Joel isn’t gentle. He holds you firmly and uses your body, fucking into you with rough thrusts that make your thighs tremble. “Take it,” he grunts, pounding into you deeply until his hips meet your bare thighs.

It’s all wet noises, heaving breathing, and skin slapping against skin. He watches the plush curves of your ass ripple as he drives into you harder and faster. The force of his movement pulls sharp, ragged cries from you as he fucks you so hard it pushes the air out of your lungs.

“This is all you get.” Joel groans behind you, curling over you with his broad frame. Your bodies are sweaty where your naked skin slips against each other, and you writhe against him, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back as he fucks deeply into you.

“You’re nothing to me,” he snarls, punctuated with his hips snapping into you brutally. “Just fuckin’ cargo.”

“Shit,” he mutters, hips stuttering as you whimper. “You like that. Can feel you clenching around me,” he keeps talking. You’re mindless beneath him. A winded, drooling mess. “Ain’t even worth the hassle to deliver. Better use taking my cock,” he grunts, hips canting more erratically until he stills, pulsing inside of you with a throaty groan.

You’re boneless, propped up on shaky knees as he pulls out and watches his come leak out of you for a moment. Then he’s crassly yanking your shorts up and ordering you to stand. You’re wobbly when you get back to your feet, and he huffs at you agitatedly. “Figure out how to walk, or I’ll drag your ass the rest of the way.”

You can’t say how long it takes before you reach your destination. Everything was a blur as you clumsily trotted along, outpaced by Joel’s long stride. You’re breathing loudly through your mouth, a sheen of sweat between your shoulder blades and on your chest. Joel, apparently well-conditioned for the cardio, is frustratingly collected. He holds you tightly as he opens the door and pushes you inside.

He jerks you towards a makeshift seat on a crate and raps a fist against the wall behind you. You can hear heavy footsteps. Joel ignores you as you try to read his expression. In seconds, the fully armored Mandalorian enters the room.

He moves swiftly, barely glancing in your direction as Joel meets him on the far side of the room.

“You were delayed,” the Mandalorian remarks in his modulated voice, his tone unrevealing. Joel steps in closer, muttering in a hushed tone that you can’t pick up. Something makes the Mandalorian laugh abrasively. His voice cracks through the air, fraught with a hazardous edge.

You sit still, chest tight, as the helmet swivels towards you. Expressionless metal, he gives nothing away. Harsh lights beat down on your damp skin, making it hard to stay still.

Joel is menacing, but this guy is impossible to read. The Mandalorian stalks towards you like a predator.

Joel leaves the room, presumably off to shower, pulling his shirt over his head as he walks away.

“Let’s see then,” the Mandalorian commands as he approaches.

“See what?”

He pulls you to your feet, a gloved hand jerking your head side to side as he examines you.

He steps forward, and you back away in synchronized steps until your heel hits something. The Mandalorian has you trapped between the cold wall and his cold metal armor.

He removes the cuffs that bind your hands, tossing them aside, drawing a confused look from you. Instead, with one hand, he pins both your wrists above your head, causing your legs to spread instinctively. You squeeze your eyes shut as if you can control yourself without looking.

“He said you’re not worth the fuel to return.” The Mandalorian gestures toward the direction Joel disappeared in with just a subtle tilt of his head. “That you’re a distraction and a whore.”

“Then let me go.”

“No.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say more. He watches you. He is still and statuesque, whereas you’re so human. In the thick air, your breathing sounds too loud. Your heart beats too violently. Your limbs tremble too weakly. You give away so much, just with your body, your face, your eyes.

“What do you want with me?”

“I ask the questions,” he negates coolly.

He squeezes your jaw tightly, “Is it your mouth?” His fingers squish the insides of your cheeks against your teeth.

“No…it can’t be this needy cunt, hmm?”

You’re shuddering, soft, and pliant. Warm, flesh and blood. You can’t form a response for him, even when he releases your jaw. Your gape at him with wide eyes and wet lips.

Then, unceremoniously, he’s shoving his hand into your leggings. Wedging his thick fingers between your slippery, swollen folds. He growls like an animal beneath the helmet.

“You’re soaked,” he says. “Getting fucked full of Joel’s cock wasn’t enough?” He pulls his hand out, letting the band of your leggings snap against your belly. You stare back. Your body trembles lightly, arms straining in his grip.

“Answer me,” he orders quietly.

It’s soft. Your throat is still hoarse. “No.”

Then he’s groping at you with an intensity that makes you writhe against the cool steel wall.

He pinches at your strained nipples, rolling them between his fingers and making you bite your own lip to distract from the twisted pain and pleasure he’s unleashing on you. You can’t keep back all the noises, though, and he pauses when you moan and arch into his hand.

“You’re not a whore,” he decides and he wedges his thigh between your legs. You roll along the ridged plate of armor, needily grinding against him.

Without warning, the Mandalorian tears your top off of your body like a starved animal. Primal and desperate, but with precision. A tremor runs through you at the exposure and ferocity, making you gasp.

“No. You like this too much to be whore.” He drops your hands and they fly to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you across the room dropping you onto the bed.

He pulls your leggings down, tossing them to the floor. You’re breathing so heavily, anticipating his next move. He pulls his cock out of his pants and you can’t take your eyes off of it. The only part of him exposed aside from his hand. The only glimpse of the true man beneath the metal.

He taps his drooling head on your clit and you make a hungry sound, spreading your legs wide to make room for him. With a firm grip, he guides himself through your throbbing folds and into your hot, wet cunt.

You groan as he meets the end of you. Your walls flutter around him as he splits you open, and then he starts to rock in and out and you keen. “Shut up,” he growls and covers your mouth with his palm.

He saws into you relentlessly and you choke down your cries of pleasure. “Listen to how wet you are,” he mutters. “Such a filthy slut.” Your body jolts with every thrust, breasts bouncing and legs shaking as he keeps your mouth covered.

“You think she can take us both?”

You strain under the Mandalorian’s hand trying to turn your head and Joel moves in closer.

“She’s just cargo,” Joel muses darkly, “she’ll take what we give.”

…….

You pause the video on your laptop, freezing the scene just as it cuts back to your reaction to Joel. The fucked out smile in your eyes apparent, even with your mouth covered.

You whip your head over to look at your boyfriend lounging next to you on the sofa. Your brow is furrowed critically, and he can see the wheels turning in your mind. His eyes, though, are clouded with lust.

“Would’ve been better if we could’ve made a set that looked like the Razor Crest,” you grumble. You chew on your bottom lip as you consider the rest of your critique.

“Do you think I should’ve kept in more of the dialogue between you and Joel? And the continuity with your gloves—do you really think it’s not that noticeable?”

“Baby,” Frankie mutters in his thick, husky voice. “I don’t think anyone is worried about the plot or the fucking gloves.”

You sigh deeply at that, returning to your video editing software with irritation. “You’re just saying that because you aren’t worried about those things,” you admonish him, continuing with your work.

You play another clip of the scene that the two of you shot. Hearing your moaning and whimpering for him through the laptop speakers drives him fucking crazy. He’s pretty sure he could wear a banana suit and people would still happily pay to watch you get railed by him.

“I’m not just saying that,” he argues, deciding to hold back on the banana comment.

“Come here. It’s late, take a break.” He can practically hear your eyes roll as you ignore him and continue poring over details that only you would notice. He doesn’t have much patience left, already desperately turned on both from the video you made and from how sexy you look next to him. So focused. In your element.

He lowers his voice into that rumbly, bassy register that he knows you can’t resist. “Are you going to make me repeat myself?” Your head swivels, and he gives you a dark glare with a gleam in his eye. He can see the feisty remark swirling on the tip of your tongue. “Come here,” he orders.

You close the laptop, pushing it towards the middle of the coffee table. “Are you going to punish me?” you murmur, crawling onto his lap slowly. “I can get the helmet back out,” you joke with a playful smirk before you curl into him, pressing soft kisses along his warm neck.

“Fuck,” he huffs, “I should punish you.” He grabs your hips, guiding you closer to where he wants you. You gasp at the same time as he groans when your core rubs against the long ridge of his erection. “You feel that?” he growls lowly. The friction and heat between you radiates up his spine and down to his toes. “You feel how hard you make me?” he asks.

“Yes.” You grind against him. He feels huge through his soft sweats. You roll your hips, savoring the pressure of his hard cock teasing you. It sends sparks from your cunt to your nipples, lighting up your nerves. He slips one hand under the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing–his t-shirt– to palm your tits and pinch at your nipples as if he could read your mind or, rather, your body.

“That’s how hard every jerkoff that watches us is gonna be.”

His statement makes you giggle softly against his neck. “Yeah?” you ask breathily.

“Yeah,” he confirms before capturing your lips with a hungry kiss that makes you moan into his mouth. You melt into each other on the sofa. Tongues sliding against each other, hips rocking against each other, and hearts beating against each other through your ribcages.

He cradles you in his arms as he shifts. Releasing you once you’re flat beneath him on the sofa, “They’ll never know what it’s like to feel your sweet cunt come around their cock, though.” He says as he lifts your legs, sliding off your soaked panties before spreading you open.

You can only hum in agreement, entranced by the sight of him pushing down his sweatpants. He’s lost in you. The desire in your eyes and the arousal shining on the folds of your core. You wrap your legs around him, hitching one knee up high to give him deeper access.

“Please,” you groan. He teases you with the wide head of his cock, nudging at your clit as he coats himself in the fresh wave of slick flooding around him.

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me. Now.”

A warm puff of air comes out of his nose. Amused with your impatience. But when he starts to feed himself into you slowly, it’s no longer funny. He’s possessed by the same urgency. Gripped by the plush heat of your cunt as you stretch around him. When he’s fully seated, hips flush to your pelvis, his cock throbs inside of you, and you dig your fingernails into the musculature of his shoulders. Silently demanding more, so he moves.

He fucks into you with a fervor made of possession and pride. Filling you so deeply that it’s like he’s connected to your soul, slotted perfectly into the heart of your cunt. Every ridge of him designed to caress every nerve inside of you. But beyond fitting together physically, he knows exactly what you want.

He snaps his hips harder. Faster. With a force that makes your eyelids heavy and your head bob limply as he drives into you with such strength that it makes you mindless with pleasure. He gives and gives. And you take and take. You cry out his name when he finds the perfect angle to launch you into a euphoric orgasm. It’s not long before he’s coming, too, stuffing you full and deep as your walls constrict and contract around him.

Time feels fuzzy as you lay together. Sticky but satisfied. His arm and leg thrown over you weigh heavily as he relaxes. He could drift off like this, and he’s about to say so when he catches that look on your face. You just figured something out.

“What are you plotting?” he asks in a sleepy voice.

“I’ve got an idea for our next video.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have those zip ties?”

pls let me know if enjoyed or hated any of it <3

Dividers by @cyberangel-graphics

ty: to @gothcsz for reminding me that pwp is pwp when i spent days getting hung up on some unnecessary details, and to @magneticecstasy for an idea that didn’t make it in, but will not leave my brain now

gen tags for some babes:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

#joel miller smut #din djarin smut #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #din djarin x reader #crackfic #smut smut smut

356 notes · View notes

kyri45 · 4 months ago

Text

✨ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU Q&A ✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: sometimes when im bored i just go to your profile to position your pfp to siffrin's hands so it looks like they're holding you

I feel threatened bc if Siffrin would know what I'm making them pass through with the next comic updates he would crush me insteantly with a fist.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Damn Siffrin is dying and no one will ever remember them. 😔 Oh Loo~ooop!

Loop coming to save the day even tough they aren't paid enough for this shit

Anonimo Siffrin isn't aware of the hole in the wall you can go through for those two statues without having to get pelted by rocks smh my head. (said jokingly) ((Love your comic btw!! Thank you for this AU, I love it))

THE

WHAT?

YOU CAN GO THROUGH A WALL TO GET THEM WITHOUT RUNNING FOR YOUR LIFE?????

Anonimo My reaction to this chapter of ISAT COTL CROSSOVER AU (10/9/2024) GO BBG YOU GOT THIS IN THE BAG!! OH YOU DO NOT GOT THIS IN THE BAG.. oh now you're out of the bag oh god ruh roh

Oh yeah he does NOT have this.

Anonimo pst hey hey are you gonna pose the statues, it would be funny i swear totally not more heartbreaking for siffr- WAIT HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE FACT YOU CAN BARELY SAVE ALL OF THE STATUES WHEN YOU REACH THE FOREVER STORM PART-

he has enough memories that he should recover a good amount of statues. It's not a matter of wheter or not he can save everyone, but mostly themself....

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hey so I cannot believe I am so late to see your ISAT and Sky AU because I love!! Both of them!! So much!! And I just wanted to thank you for making it and sharing it with us because it’s really cool! And both fandoms need more attention imo <333 @ucorpwhalingyaoi ha chiesto: I know NOTHING about cotl but my god your isat au of it has made me want to play it so bad 💔 (very /pos…) @primrosechronicles ha chiesto: HEYYYY ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE SENT AN ASK!! Ive been silently reading the isat comic since my last ask and im very very proud of you for making this far!!! mwahh!!! Thank you for inspiring me to play sky again, cuz if not i wouldn't have able to meet my sky friends Anonimo ha chiesto: first of all, I came here from the shadowpeach au but your comics dragged my ass to the ISAT fandom second of all, HOW DARE YOU PLAYED WITH MY HAPPINESS LIKE THAT (love your art and story telling, I wanna eat it like a fancy dinner) @prince0fghosty ha chiesto: It's been hard for me to find Sky: Children of the Light content anywhere! I found you through a friend and not only are you interested in Sky but also Lego Monkie Kid this is truly the best day ever!!! I got back into the game because of you. I like to help moths out in Eden @phoenix-is-here ha chiesto: You are the person who introduced me to the ISAT fandom and I gotta say thank you for that. That's one of the best games I've ever played and I would have never known about it without stumbling onto your account first (because of a strong hyperfixation on a show about monkeys ofc) so.. Accept this virtual cookie and glass of milk as a gift : 🍪 Anonimo ha chiesto: I followed for the shadowpeach, stayed for Sky CotL, keep cookin

HIII!!! AND TYSM!!!!!

@elianaroselight ha chiesto: This feels a little silly, but what is ISAT? I read through your ISAT Sky AU comic and I feel like I am missing half of the story. I love what I'm seeing so far and want more, but I also don't know or completely understand who the characters are and why I should care about them (more than I do already at least). Sorry if this is silly. I just want to understand.

ISAT is short for "In Stars And Time". It's an RPG game made by @insertdisc5. ABsolutely go check it out otherwise you wont understand a thing about the characters of the AU!

when i was reading the most recent page of the In Skies and Time™️ comic I had the most hilarious image in my head of just a bunch of sky kids smacking down on the same area and making this. sky kid pileup????? [since it seems liek theyre all gonna come back like that..] it was super funny to imagine 30 CAR PILEUP 🔥🔥🔥

AWWW SKY KID MOUNTAIN!! Lol probably it would happen? Like when you do Eden just after reset and when you get reborn there's like 7 other players clipped in you rebirth animation in the aviary /home space

Anonimo ha chiesto: Awwwww Bonnie was so excited 😢

poor Bonnie they will get their comfort moment eventually

@sohrleas ha chiesto: YOU YOU'RE THE REASON WHY I got Sky 'cause I saw your isat sky au and got super curious about the game Your art is beautiful and I love it 💚💚💚

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: HOPEFUL STEWARD WOOOOO-

IT'S MY BOY!!

@o0mochacoffee0o This isn’t related to you Bio dad AU Like my usuals- I just saw in your abut that you like CotL! Now you share two of my interests!! I’m curious to know your favorite parts of the game, if you have any ships, head canons, etc!! I always love listening to people’s opinions on things I love!

About Scotl? I don't have any specific headcanon, but I do ship Moments Guide and Reassuring Ranges. The only thing that I crave for that game is MORE LORE GODDAMN IT

Anonimo ha chiesto: When I said the fun was dying. I did not expected this. I'M SCREAMING AND PUNCHING THE BED NOOOOOOOOOOOO SIFFF

*sips coffee* welcome to hell (literally)

Anonimo ha chiesto: "is that thing a sadness?!" sweet summer child that thing is a menace of death

It absolutely is

Anonimo ha chiesto: Poor Siffrin’s gotta be absolutely TERRIFIED Big scary beast thing spotted them AND suddenly getting bathed in the color they associate with bad stuff? I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be quaking in their boots.

He is in desperate need of comfort that wont come in like- a irl month I think

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know you won’t be doing the golden wastelands but… Once the party discovers that the groundwater has the same effect as the forest rain, Isabeau decides to bridal carry Siffrin the whole way. Leaving Siffrin a blushy mess. Also, almost if not everyone is scared shitless of the Dark Dragons/Krill (totally not projecting)

ooooohh that is soooo cute i'm dying!!!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: THE FAKE ACT 4 LOOKING SMILE . THE ACT 5 EDEN MOMENT. THE PARTY BEING SENT BACK . DIES "oh yeah if I still have energy I can loop back" ← me when I'm lying

@starlight-and-clockwork ha chiesto: bawling and kicking and screaming and pulling my hair out THAT PANEL OF SIFFRIN ASKING HIS FAMILY TO REMEMBER HIM WILL HAUNT ME FOREVER YOU ARE SO TALENTED AND CAUSE ME MUCH PAIN THANK U<3

@aro-aces-world ha chiesto: I just caught up with ISAT sky au Fuck you /affectionate

Thank you! Be ready to be even more destroyed by the following updates!

@cherryblossomventi ha chiesto: I’m gonna go feral, Sif did that because he knows he can kinda come back from this with the shooting star thing Im guessing but the others cant/might not because they aren’t from this land,,, oh buddy why didn’t you tell them stop being cryptic idiot

Sif doesn't really remember that he can be reborn like in Sky. He knows only that, if he can reach the light right at the base of the cataclysm, then maybe he can return as well.

#isat sky cotl au #ask box #kyri45

149 notes · View notes

aylameridiandrawsstuff · 10 days ago

Text

Likely the last painting of '24!

Another Soulsbourne X Warhammer character crossover: Daemon Prince Messmer!

Obviously heavily inspired by the truly awesome new Fulgrim model

#illustration #artists on tumblr #40k #warhammer 40k #character design #elden ring #fanart #warhammer #Messmer #crossover

65 notes · View notes

crazy-ache · 5 months ago

Text

It's very, very interesting to me....

Tower of Dawn (September 5, 2017) and A Court of War and Ruin (May 2, 2017) were released in the same year, only months apart. So I don't think it's far-fetched to believe that there was an overlap in writing, plotting, and planning these books. When you really think about it, you can see many parallels that likely influenced each other.

Specifically Chaol/Yrene and Elain/Lucien.

Both books bring to light:

A soft FMC that does not want to be a warrior or wield a sword

A MMC that is dealing with feelings of guilt and worthlessness

"The world needs more healers." / "I think the world needs more gardens. "

Yrene's healing is a form of light / Lucien's parentage to the Day Court HL

A MMC that has been dealing with issues behind the scenes, separate from the main cast, but that significant work is revealed at a later time

FMCs that are living in a place they call home but aren't truly home

FMCs that try to avoid/maintain distance from the MMC due to prejudices in their heart that are related to the MMC but not directly caused by them (Chaol's identity vs Lucien's bond)

Both encompass a love story that is filled with tension, healing, and growth from both the male and female

And what I also take away from this...

SJM surprised her readers with ToD. Chaol was not mentioned at all in Empire of Storms, but she had always planned to bring him back into the story.

Could this have influenced the way she wrote Elucien in ACOWAR? I think so. She has put their relationship/development on the back burner since that book. There are clear parallels between the two ships, and I wouldn't be surprised if Chaolrene foreshadows a similar path for Elucien.

In terms of what their book will be like....but also how their book will come to be...

Meaning that just because Elain/Lucien were largely missing from ACOSF/HOFAS, she is likely taking her inspiration from ToD (which she was writing when she was in peak Elucien mode in ACOWAR)...and has been intentionally planning the timing of their story.

And just like she did with Chaol/Yrene, she'll pull them back into the story when you least expect it. After everything with Nesta/Az/Crossover....I think this means in this next book.

#elucien meta #elucien #pro elucien #acowar #acotar 6 #acotar predictions #i really believe with my whole heart elucien is next #i just wanted to share something i realized today that deepened that belief #chaol x yrene #tower of dawn #sjm told us the plane taxi metaphor remember #tod is the perfect example of that #throne of glass #tog x acotar #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra

110 notes · View notes

p5x-theories · 1 year ago

Note

@askmarietheapprentice Hah, I guess it's true that Ginzo's name (銀三) is silver + 3, and the first kanji in Jii's first name (黄之助) is yellow, as well! I also left Keiko Momoi (last name 桃井, with the first kanji being peach) out because she's not really a main character, but I suppose more examples gets the point across better.

I guess I haven't talked about DCMK too much here just because it hasn't come up too much? I mean, outside of what was already evident in P5 proper, heh. I don't think any other P5X teammates so far really remind me of DCMK characters yet...? Certainly no one's on the level of literally having Arsene Lupin the First as their Persona, like Joker, just yet, haha.

Well... okay, actually, you might be able to argue something about how Magic Kaito is canonically a "parallel universe" to Detective Conan (because Akako's a witch in Magic Kaito, but magic powers allegedly don't exist in Detective Conan), and then the popular theory that P5X is an alternate universe that just parallels the original P5? If so, that would seem to imply there's some fundamental difference between P5 and P5X (the gacha element) that means they can't just be a shared universe, but all the characters from both games should still exist in each other's universes in that case, so... even if that is indicative of the parallel universe theory, it still feels like something's missing.

Seiji’s last name Shiratori (白鳥) might be relevant to his persona given it means meaning white feathered bird(Which could be a reference to Kid’s real last name Kuroba which means black feathers )the kanji can also be read as swan with a different pronunciation. (Like Kuroba is also a transliteration of the English word clover. )So possible The Ugly Duckling and/or Swan Lake connections. Hans Christian Andersen again and ballet again.

Kaito KID mention in my askbox! A rare treat.

Not to out myself as a huge Detective Conan and Magic Kaito fan, but Seiji's last name has always made me think of two other characters from that universe as well: Saguru Hakuba (the teenage detective chasing after KID in his own manga/anime, last name written 白馬 ("white horse")), and Ninzaburo Shiratori (one of the police inspectors in Detective Conan, last name identical to Seiji's). I'm not sure if it's actually intended as a reference to Inspector Shiratori, but you gave me an excuse to mention it, hah, so!

I bring up Hakuba mostly because, along with Kuroba, two other main characters, Aoko and Akako, also have color names (blue and red, respectively). So if we end up meeting other characters with colors (especially those colors) in their names, he might have a connection to them, if it is intended as a reference there?

Um- anyway, not to get too carried away on that topic. I agree it could also possibly indicate something about a connection to The Ugly Duckling and/or Swan Lake, though I don't know as much about either of those!

If his Persona is at all meant to reflect his last name, a white-feathered bird, it's interesting then that only the bird in the cage actually has white feathers, while the rest of Leucothea has black and yellow feathers. It could suggest something about how Seiji feels in relation to his family, and maybe that his rebellion involves casting them aside/becoming something else, at least outwardly?

#okay granted I implied lupin is a dcmk character here but I meant that kaito kid was directly explicitly inspired by lupin haha #though lupin's also not *not* a dcmk character given the crossovers so you know either way #if I wanted to be a little less serious I'd suggest that seiji sharing his name with a dcmk character implies he has a childhood crush #also dcmk's influence on p4 is so funny to me. the entire truth detectives theme. teddie's jpn va. naoto.#truly p4 is detective conan and p5 is magic kaito #theories

7 notes · View notes

roguegambitweek · 9 months ago

Text

Legacy

A few of our prompts this year make specific reference to the comics. We know that not everyone has read the comics (there are a lot of X-Men comics out there) and we don’t want anyone to feel left out.

So, without further ado… Legacy.

First, as the prompt is written, you can create your fanworks around the concept of legacy—of what a person leaves behind, their long lasting impact on the world. This could be children, inspiration, etc. Or, it could even be a meta exploration about Rogue and Gambit’s impact on comics, the X-Men, or any other medium they’re in. Feel free to play with this concept of legacy.

Now, if you’re interested in the character of Legacy, read on.

In 2011, there was a X-Men Legacy/New Mutants crossover event called ‘Age of X.’ In this bubble, alt-universe, dystopian world, Rogue goes by Legacy.

As Legacy, she’s present whenever another Mutant dies. She absorbs them, preserving their memories and, in a way, memorializing their lives. Because she mostly appears when Mutants die (and there are quite a few deaths since they are being hunted to extinction), other Mutants begin associating her with death. They call her Reaper, a name which she despises and continually asks them to not to call her that. Due to various reasons, Legacy spends most of her time alone, or sequestered in the Fortress.

This is a lonely existence for Legacy. And here enters our hero.

Gambit does go by Gambit, although he uses a long rifle instead of cards. One of the first times Legacy and Gambit meet, he calls her Legacy (her preferred name). When she asks him why he is helping her, he proclaims, “I don’t even know, chère. I saw you fighting, is all. And I knew what side of the fight I wanted to be on.”

Anyways, they go on a quest together to discover the truth behind the contradictions of their dying world, share a few romantic moments, and are willing to lay down their lives for each other. Even though they just met, they work together like they’ve been partners their entire lives. Truly, Romy are the OTP across the Multiverse.

In the end, they save the day and everyone is returns to the regular 616 universe. Most participants in this bubble world choose to forget about it, but Rogue retains Legacy’s memories.

The entirety of Legacy’s appearances occur in the AoX arc and for once, it is relatively achievable to read the entire crossover. Below is the reading with the essential Romy moments bolded.

Reading list in Order:

Age of X Alpha

Chapter 1 - X-Men: Legacy (2011) - issue 245

Chapter 2 - New Mutant, issue 22

Chapter 3 - X-Men: Legacy issue 246

Chapter 4 - New Mutants (2011), issue 23

Age of X Universe #1

Chapter 5 - X-Men: Legacy, issue 247

Chapter 6 - New Mutants, issue 24

Age of X Universe #2

X-Men Legacy, 248, Age of X Aftermath (Just stop reading after the ‘home and harbor’ speech)

#rogue/gambitweek2024 #rogue/remyweek2024 #legacy #age of x #rogue #gambit #Romy #otp: home and harbor #otp: mon coeur #otp across the multiverse #anna marie lebeau #remy lebeau

107 notes · View notes

brucewaynehater101 · 8 months ago

Note

I feel like we're sleeping on the fact that if the Batfamily crossovered with Power Rangers Tim would be the defacto leader because like

Red Ranger is always the leader and he's Red Robin

I love and hate that your argument works. You're absolutely correct, but the fact that you are right because he's Red Robin? The fact you're basing it off of his costume color?

Wild.

Though, counter argument, what about Jason and the Red Hood?

Fudge. I don't know enough about Power Rangers to assign them all colors.... I can look it up.

Shit. You inspired me to make up batfam Power Ranger AU lore. Damn it.

Any inconsistencies with Power Rangers can be blamed on DC (and not my lack of knowledge with Power Rangers. Send me an ask or put a comment on this post if you want me to fix something).

According to eggradients.com, this is how I'll assign the batfam Power Ranger colors:

Red - Jason - physical prowess, incredible fighting ability, adventurous spirit, stalwart leader, and has no trouble laying down the law

Blue - Damian - twin sword and shields as weapon and has served with honor

Yellow - Duke - able to detect changes in peers' moods

Black - Barbara - in charge of keeping the coins safe and rallying the team together

White - Tim - heroic/loyal, dark side when stressed, protective of friends, and willing to go to any lengths to help out loved ones

Purple - Steph - sometimes not officially part of the team, serve as a stand-in for the main team when their powers are unavailable (*cough* her time as Robin *cough*), stand up for the weak, protect others, and fight for good

Orange - Cass - powerful warrior, strong, powerful, creativity, and confidence

Grey - Bruce - intelligent, ingenuity, and helps the others become stronger/more accurate/more control over their weapons

Now, the site didn't say anything specific about silver or gold. I kind of want to give Dick pink, but idk if that's an okay thing to do. If not, he's silver.

For some fun lore, Jason has some issues with Tim because he is a rarer Power Ranger color. This is another reason that he picked a fight with Tim (and adds onto that whole "better model" stuff).

Also, apparently orange doesn't truly exist, but it fits Cass.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #cass wayne #dc au #steph brown #barabra gordon #duke thomas

81 notes · View notes

asaka-lucy-touhou · 17 days ago

Text

⛄️ Happy Winter Holidays, Alcibiade(@elfen-alcibiade)!!! 💝

As I mentioned before, I’ve been working on some art for the winter holidays for a while now. What exactly was I doing that made me set aside your wonderful storyboard? Well, I was secretly working on an illustration as a gift for you! haha (^▽^)

Do you remember when I said I wanted to use your drawing as my iPad wallpaper? At the time, you said you’d use one of my drawings as your wallpaper, but I held off because I wanted to create a “proper” picture for it. And now, I’ve finally completed that “proper picture”!

To prove that this illustration was designed with an iPad wallpaper in mind, here’s a photo of how it looks on my own iPad:

The following is further supplemental information:

I’ll email you a version of the image without the watermark and the “Happy Holidays” text later, so you can use it as a wallpaper. I am going to make the wallpaper image available only to you, but later I will post separate images of Marisa and Alice, Nagito, Hajime, and Chiaki without watermark, so please forgive me for that.

I had always thought that if I were to create a picture for your wallpaper, it would have to feature Marisa and Alice. But for the longest time, I couldn’t settle on a specific composition. However, while we were talking about the Touhou/Danganronpa crossover story, the idea for this composition came to mind. I realized it would be perfect for the winter holidays, so I paused everything else I was working on and prioritized this project.

I used to hesitate to draw crossovers between completely different works, but after our conversations, I started to feel more comfortable experimenting with new ideas. I can say with confidence that I never would have come up with this composition if I hadn’t connected with you. It was such a joy to paint this piece filled with all my favorite characters! Interacting with you has brought such a significant change to my creative process—it truly feels like a turning point in my life.

Thank you so much for always inspiring me! I hope you’ll enjoy this piece and maybe even use it as your iPad wallpaper. Wishing you a wonderful holiday season and a very Happy New Year! 🌟 P.S. I won't have time to check Tumblr all day on the 25th and 26th, so if I get any messages from you during that time, I may not be able to respond. I will definitely respond if I get anything from you, so please be patient for my response! (｡>_<｡)

#my art #touhou x danganronpa crossover

24 notes · View notes

sheisjoeschateau · 11 months ago

Text

"...at the Chateau, we'll be alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional inpso from Joe's college theater performance as in Spring Awakening.

Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst, angst, angst. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Hurt/comfort. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France. This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate. He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good. Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise. A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer. The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality. Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants. Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical. A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet. Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

But here, together at the chateau, you'll be alright.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊ ⋆SNEAK PREVIEW⋆ ⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ This will be another series of mine, dedicated to my boy. Coming soon.

[excerpt from the story]

There was something about the way you twirled in your sundress that reminded Steve of the bible.

He wasn't religious, nor did he think any god truly loved or believed in him. But here, watching you exist in your garden of eden at the Chateau, the good book almost seemed real.

You resembled something otherworldly. Heavenly, sent straight from above. Innocent, yet wise. Kind, yet strong. Powerful and delicate at the same time. Your laugh was soft, feminine and pure. Your spirit was whole. Your smile blinded him with joy. Your beauty was divine, angelic and overwhelming. You were too much…and yet, you could never be enough.

But that wasn’t because you yourself weren’t enough. No, rather it was because Steve would never be able to get enough of you. He could never be close enough. He could never be near you enough. He could never tell you enough words that would accurately describe the way that you made him feel.

The word ‘enough’ simply did not apply when it boiled down to you.

And yet, as Steve swept you up into his arms — discarding his books and his education down onto the lawn, much more driven to study you — holding you felt like that was all that he would ever need for his life to be considered enough. The feeling of your waist in his grasp, his strong arms circling your petite torso as your hair flew in the wind of the circle he spun you in, felt like a tornado. A cyclone, sweeping you both off your feet so that it could take you far away from everything and everyone. You were this fragile flower in his hands, yet unbreakable. Real, but too good to be true. A true story, but a fairytale of the mind.

Jonathan saw you this way — but from a more niche, almost platonic point of view. It was just as codependent, yet approached with more independence and the ability to exist on his own two feet. He’d do whatever it took to keep you, no matter what the hell that took. And he knew that to some degree, a pretty scary degree, that he needed you too. But he was content with the need. Satisfied, at peace. Completely grounded, secure. Unlike Steve, who smiled out of fear and loved with his whole heart on the line. Because Byers knew how to be alone. He knew how to rely on himself, fill his own cup even when it was empty — which was all the time. Byers was the epitome of “I walk alone.” The human embodiment of solitude. He preferred your company, your grace and your presence. It made him better, and stronger — because he’d known prior how to operate without it.

Harrington didn’t. Harrington needed someone, all the time. As an only child, the loneliness had suffocated him in his big house with no parents. He’d had no one to shush the nightmares away, no one to hold him whenever the monsters felt near. No one to run to and trust with any secret that he had. No true friend who would listen to his most intrusive thoughts without casting him away. No girl that wanted him in the ways that he so desperately sought to be loved, not just lusted after. Until you came along, sheltering him from all his deepest and darkest fears, childhood traumas and the ever-looming possibility of rejection. He had been a threat to himself, and you put that threat to rest with just a soft brush of your lips against his knuckles and the touch of your tender hands.

Whereas with Byers, you made him feel seen but not disturbed. You allowed him to be present without needing to overcompensate. You granted him refuge, earning his trust with your actions instead of your words. He didn’t need your touch to calm him. Rather, he felt steadied by just knowing that you were here. You knew that touch was never a friend to Jonathan, which is why you never pushed yourself in. Instead, he found himself drawn to you. He didn’t recoil at the physical contact made between the two of you. A hug, a warm embrace that lingered just an extra second or two. A gentle squeeze of a hand as you shot him a wistful smile. The most feather-like of kisses pressed to his cheek to say hello, good morning, good evening or goodnight. It felt…nurturing. Assuring, fostering.

Out on the outstretched lawn in front of the Chateau, acreage upon acreage, Jonathan watched your hair gleam underneath the golden glow of the setting sun. He let the Marlboro in his mouth dangle between his teeth, the curriculum resting upon his lap as the scent of nicotine and fresh air filled his senses. The mixture of it was perfect for the scene laid out before him: Steve spinning you around, his white collared shirt unbuttoned just enough to wear his tie swung in the breeze as he continued swirling you around like a princess. And when he’d placed you back onto your feet, he peppered every single inch of your face with an obscene amount of stolen kisses as you giggled like the darling that you so effortlessly are. Jonathan felt his lips tug upwards at the corner, unable to help himself when it came to the two of you. His shoulder angel and shoulder devil.

He turned the page of his literature books, revealing his unfinished letter that he’d begun writing at lunch in response to his mother. Joyce had written to him, asking him to tell her everything about the summer. How was it in France? What was it like? Were the hosts kind, was he being polite towards them? What about you? Were the two of you getting along, as well as the other student?

Jonathan glanced up from his scribbled cursive, back at the two of you. Steve was cupping your cheek, placing a flower in your hair with his free hand before moving to cup your other cheek so that he was cradling your face. His perfect, sharp nose nuzzled to the tip of yours sweetly. Jonathan felt his heart swell as the two of you turned to look at him with pure love. Your arms stretched out towards him, along with Steve’s, beckoning him. Come play with us. He grinned at you both wholeheartedly, holding up a hand — which you both knew meant he would, just a little longer. You’d all learned each others’ love languages by now, along with how to communicate through gestures and expressions. Body language was all of your specialty, in a multitude of ways that no one else could ever possibly understand. Jonathan didn’t mind that. It was only meant for the three of you.

Flicking his cigarette, he glanced back down at the incomplete letter he was ready to finish writing for his mother. He took his pen, letting the ink spill onto the parchment. He'd already written down things earlier, telling her that your parents had taken them in as their own. He wrote about how much your father made him adore his studies in ways he never had before, and how he'd been inspired to help Steve study alongside him as an assistant tutor of sorts. He wrote to her about an Aperol spritz had somehow become the drink of the summer, using fresh citrus from the gardens of your estate, and how it made uncharacteristically sappy. How you and Steve made him that way too, even without the poison coursing through his veins.

Something about them makes me feel like I can, Mom. I keep asking myself if this all just a dream. Or maybe, it’s the past? Not sure. Either way, just thought I’d ask. Not because I am seeking the answer, from you or the universe. Rather, I’m simply existing and letting it all just happen. C’est la vie. I know…so very French. Perhaps I'm running a fever. A lovesick sort of fever.

Jonathan grinned down at his writing with wry amusement at himself. At his life.

He turned over his shoulder, glancing back at the majestic chateau behind him. Chateau Chalamet. Your childhood home. His new home, as of that summer…which was dwindling away, day by day. Every day that passed meant that he had less time. All of you were losing time. He sighed, resuming his writing.

I’ll turn back the time whenever this all ends. In my mind, this will always be a home away from home. Which is something I never thought I would say. I’m not really sure what my future holds. But it doesn’t really concern me at the moment. Now right now. Right now, I'm at the chateau and I feel alright. Love, Jonathan

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

89 notes · View notes