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sinsofsummers · 2 years ago

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sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

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bedoballoons · 1 year ago

Text

Awe thank you!! I hope you're having a great night/day as well!! I've never written anything like this before so I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for your request!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~Hes mine~༺}

CW: Fem! Reader! Readers friend tries to sleep with character, reader is described as normally being sweet and kind, cursing and slight simping on the characters part for their possessive girlfriend~

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Xiao, Wanderer, and Freminet!)

𑁍༄Lyney:

"She doesn't have to know Lyney. It could just be our little secret~"

You felt your face heat up to your ears, anger spiking in your heart...you knew your best friend had their eyes on him for awhile now...but you never thought they'd actually try anything. You took a deep breath and threw open the door you'd been standing behind, making your friends almost jump out of their skin.

"Ah! H-hey bestie! How's it goin?"

You scowled at their voice, how dare they act like they hadn't been trying to get with Lyney just two seconds earlier. "How's it goin! IT WAS GOING REALLY NICE UNTIL YOU TRIED TO FUCK MY BOYFRIEND! HONESTLY ARE YOU SUCH A WHORE YOU HAVE TO TRY FOR EVERY GUY INCLUDING MINE?!?"

You stepped closer to them while Lyney shrunk back into the corner, his eyes wide with shock...and a light blush coating his cheeks. "Mon amou-"

"NOT RIGHT NOW LYNEY, IM CURRENTLY DEALING WITH THIS STUPID BITCH I USED TO CALL A FRIEND. ANSWER ME. DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO SLEEP WITH EVERY GUY YOU SEE? CANT KEEP IT IN YOUR FUCKING PANTS?"

"I...Im not a whore! You know if I had met him first, he would have picked me instead!"

"LEAVE RIGHT NOW. COME NEAR HIM AGAIN AND I WILL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU! GET OUT OF NY FACE AND SUCK SOME OTHER GUYS DICK!" You pointed to the exit, glaring at them as they ran out. It took a couple minutes for the room to settle, your heart pounding in your ears...when suddenly it dawned on you that you'd just acted like that...in front of Lyney. You turned to look him, surprised to see he was staring right back at you with this glazed over look, "Lyney...sorry you had to-"

"Do not apologise mon amour, just now I'm forever yours~"

𑁍༄Tighnari:

"Tighnari, please. I promise I'll make it fun~"

You felt your heart sink, rage making your hands ball up into fists...you'd always been so nice to them, you considered them your best friend and the second your back was turned they stabbed you in it. You shook your head, pushing the door flat against the wall as the noise reverberated throughout the house, "Well, well, well, if iT ISNT THE ROYAL BACK STABBER THEMSELF. SORRY TO INTERRUPT YOUR LITTLE FLIRTING SESSION WITH MY BOYFRIEND! DID YOU REALLY THINK HED GO FOR YOU?!?"

You looked at them with a glint in your eyes that could send people scrambling for safety, unaware that Tighnari was right behind you...watching you with his tail wagging aggressively behind him.

"You weren't supposed to find out! It's not my fault you walked in! And yeah, he could have gone for me! Do you see how you're acting right now friend!"

"ME? ACTING UP? REALLY? YOU JUST FUCKING ASKED THE PERSON IM IN LOVE WITH, THE PERSON I TOLD YOU I LOVED, TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU! AND IM ACTING UP? NO FUCK YOU, YOURE A STUPID BITCH AND YOU NEED TO NEVER COME NEAR ME OR HIM AGAIN OR I SWEAR ILL MESS YOUR FACE UP SO BAD, EVEN HUMPTY THE FUCKING DUMPTY CAN'T PUT IT BACK TOGETHER!"

You felt tears well up in your eyes as they slowly walked away from you...all those memories down the drain...and Tighnari not far away probably considering you a horrible person by now. "Tigh-"

"I love you too."

"I- what..."

"I. Love. You. Too. More then I think I can really express..."

𑁍༄Xiao:

"Awe Xiao, don't just say no right away, I have so many things to offer. I can show you everything she couldn't even think of~"

You slumped against the wall, feeling like you were about to throw up...of all the things you expected to hear as you walked up to your date with your boyfriend...your best friend asking to sleep with him wasn't one of them. It was like being punched in the gut..., "Wow..didn't even wait to make sure I wasn't around huh..."

You could hear your friend gasp, their demeanor instantly changing, "I-i don't know what you're talking about. I w-wasn't doing anything. Isn't that right Xiao? It just sounded bad!" You pulled yourself away from the wall, your anger bubbling inside of you as you looked at Xiao. He seemed surprised for some reason and it only egged you on, "Well Xiao?"

"They were trying to get me to break my loyalty to you. I would never fall for such things though. My desires are for you only."

"Xiao!"

You smiled evilly at your friend as the shouted at him, "Well look at that. I only have a few things to say to you. TAKE YOUR HORNY ASS BACK TO THE WHORE HOUSE AND LOOK FOR SOME HOOKER LOW LIFE INSTEAD. HE'S MINE AND EVEN IF HE WASN'T, HE'D NEVER FALL FOR YOU UGLY SELF! GO! NOW!" If steam could shoot out of your ears it would have. You could forgive so many things, but that wasn't one of them.

"I...fine! I never liked you anyway!"

They ran out the door, leaving you feeling like you needed to punch the wall..., "How did I ever become friends with them....Xiao you oka- mph!" You blushed madly as he interrupted you with a kiss. His lips meeting yours as he pulled you close to him, you could feel his heart racing and the warmth radiating off of him. He wouldn't even let you pull away till you were gasping for air, "X-xiao?"

"I don't really understand this feeling...but I liked seeing you fight for me. It made me want to kiss you..."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"I could turn you into my own little brat baby boy, don't you want that~"

It felt like a switch flipped in your mind as those words left your friends mouth...your normally nice sweet personality gone cold and bitter. To think you'd taken the chance to friend this person..."Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the only one who can call him that is me. In fact, pretty sure since he's MY boyfriend you shouldn't even be trying to fuck him. That just isn't who you are is it."

"I wasn't going to-"

"Wanderer, hush." You stared daggers at your ex friend as they backed towards the exit, their hands shaking with fear. "Trembling are you? IS IT CAUSE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN ME ANGRY? CAUSE HONESTLY, IVE NEVER FELT THIS MUCH RAGE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE SO CONGRATULATIONS FOR FINDING A WAY TO PISS ME OFF THAT BADLY. FUCK YOU!"

"Look just calm down, he said no anyway alright. I was just kidding! If I wanted to fuck him I would have by now!"

"WOW. YES YOU WERE DEFINITELY JOKING, IS THAT WHY YOU WERE TRYING TO PRESS UP AGAINST HIM?! IM NOT A IDIOT BUT CLEARLY YOU ARE. NEVER. TOUCH HIM. AGAIN! FUCK OFF!"

They slipped outside, leaving you alone with your breathing uneven and your face bright red. You were never one for yelling or cursing and in seconds someone you called a friend changed that...

"That was hot."

Your eyes shot open as you spun around. Wanderer was leaning against the wall, smirking at you under the brim of his hat, "I never would have guess my girlfriend could get so nasty. I'll only say this once, but I like seeing you loose your shit. Kinda a turn on~"

𑁍༄Freminet:

"Don't worry, I like when guys are shy in bed and she will never find out~"

"I-i said no. Leave me alone."

You bit your lip, listening to the fear in Freminets voice...the flirty tone in your friends. It was like some type of twisted joke, the ones that make your skin crawl...not only were they hurting you even though your were their best friend, but going after a taken guy who wasn't the best at defending himself in social altercations...that was a whole different kind of low.

"You should probably take the hint. He said no. That means no. He's not a cheater and he doesn't want you." You revealed yourself from your hiding spot, taking satisfaction in the suprise painted on your friends features. Did they really think they were going to get away with it...did they really think he'd sleep with them?

"How long have you been there?!"

"Long enough to see who you really are and I hope I never have to again. Neither of us want anything to do with you now. Take fucking flirty words and advances and go find someone just as terrible as you to sleep with instead!" You threw their bag at them, standing in front of Freminet protectively as they glared at you.

"It's fine, I didn't really want him anyway! You two can keep eachother!"

You watched them leave, your body shaking with anger..."How fucking dare they..."

"A-are you okay?"

You looked at Freminet, shocked to see him staring back at you with a blush that matched your own...he couldn't look at you in the eye..."Yes I'm alright...are you?"

"I-im better then alright. I feel very w-warm. Thank you for defending me...but even if you hadn't shown up, I never would have been with them. I...I only like you."

"I only like you too Freminet."

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

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apomaro-mellow · 7 months ago

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This was such a cute mermay idea I had to do it

Nancy watched as they took the first mer out of the tank, nicknamed 'Billy'. His tail was a deep blue but she knew better than to attach too much connection between the coloration of the tail and their personality. He was anything but calm and soothing. If anything, she would call him a brute, but it was hard to even say that regarding an animal.

Sometimes fish could be aggressive. And clearly putting two males in one tank had amped up that aggression. Poor Steve had yet to leave his cave after Billy's last attack. They'd need a diver to help coax him out and tend to his wounds.

It takes a couple of weeks for him to recover and in that time, the team brings in a new mer, another male. Robin was vehemently against putting him in the same tank as Steve.

"He just got over what happened with Billy. What're you gonna do if this one tries to fight him again?"

"Steve isn't totally helpless", Nancy said, remembering the wounds inflicted on Billy as well. "Besides, we need to figure out if it really is just instinctual, territorial stuff or if there's something else going on."

And so the second male was put into the same tank as Steve's. At first, he was appropriately cautious, as was the other mer. They both kept to opposite sides of the tank. Then Robin began to notice some odd behaviors in them.

The new one, dubbed 'Eddie' by his wrangler Wayne, would sometimes poke and prod at Steve. He would do so and then immediately swim away, like he was bold but shy at the same time. Steve didn't lash out the way he had with Billy, so perhaps it was some form of play? It was times like these that she wished they knew more about these creatures.

Then Steve did more than just not lash out. He appeared to be playing along. Steve had never engaged in play. Honestly, to Robin he seemed a little haughty, like a prima donna of a fish. The gossamer frills of his tail, almost like a betta fish, gave him that look of someone above it all. But when he played with Eddie, he looked, well, goofy.

But he seemed happy. Healthy even.

Then, one day, while passing by on her lunch break, Robin noticed something she had never seen Steve do before. Eddie floated nearby while Steve swam in an alluring display, his tail undulating in a way that made Robin feel like she shouldn't be watching. So she didn't stay for long. There were always cameras on the tanks just in case something happened while no one was around anyway.

But she brought it up to Nancy immediately. Because if her suspicions were correct...

"It looked like a mating dance to me, Nance."

"Don't be silly, they're both males. And if that was possible, then why didn't Steve perform for Billy?"

"Uhh, he kept biting and clawing at him? Not very romantic. And let's not pretend homosexuality is a purely human invention", Robin pointed out.

Nancy was still skeptical. "Well, even if they are engaging in courtship, the fact remains that they can't reproduce together."

Unexpected babies could complicate things in the tank when they knew so little about mers to begin with. How did they even raise their young? It was the kind of question they'd learn the answer to sooner rather than later.

A few days after Robin took notice of the supposed mating rituals, a diver noticed that Steve's belly appeared to be a bit more full. They tried to get closer to inspect but in his first act of aggression, Eddie pounced with the intention to bite their head off. Thankfully, they were fully covered and got away with just a chunk taken from their goggles. Unable to inspect up close, the research team chalked it up gaining weight. It could either be from preparing for winter or having less stress to effect his appetite.

About a week after that, during a routine clean up, Nancy saw that the moment a diver went into the water, Eddie stood sentry at the cave and Steve was nowhere to be seen, presumably inside. Not wanting to agitate him, they waited until he was asleep to send a camera down. Through its night vision lens, they saw the two adult mer and what appeared to be a clutch of about five eggs, the size of grapefuit settled between them.

When the evidence came back, Nancy pointedly kept her gaze from Robin's 'I told you so' face.

"Don't look so smug unless you can tell me how this happened", Nancy said.

Robin shrugged. "I have theories."

It took about three weeks for the eggs to hatch, after doubling in size. The team kept their distance as Eddie's territorial streak rivaled Billy's when his mate was in a vulnerable state. But they checked in whenever they could. Only two of the eggs grew to full term and hatched, the other three deflating not long after being laid.

Nancy chalked it up to it likely being Steve's first mating and having come from a stressful situation. She was proven correct when a year later, he laid again, six this time, and they all made it to full term. She and Robin watched as Eddie and Steve floated together, tails in a twist and holding hands, letting the current carry them as their eight children chased each other around.

Robin nudged her partner. "We're gonna need a bigger tank."

#kinda wanna write steve/eddie pov too #apo writes #stranger things #steddie #mermay #mpreg #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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idyllic-affections · 2 years ago

Note

So I JUST got this idea after reading your mist recent adoptive dad!Kaveh piece and now it WILL NOT leave my mind. You emphasized on how his child's emotions are his emotions and how he's much more empathetic when it comes to them. So naturally, as a connoisseur of all things angst, I keep thinking how Kaveh will handle it when his child has their first heartbreak! Being so emotional himself will he be able to hold up or will he cry with them? and I wonder what the rest of them will do, there's just so many possibilities

how is [name]'s first heartbreak handled?

summary. how does [name]'s platonic co-parenting family respond to their first breakup?

trigger & content warnings. gaslighting, tough breakups, abusive behavior, lots of tears, & medical malpractice (briefly and pretty non-seriously).

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. tighnari & reader, alhtiaham & reader, adoptive dad!kaveh & reader, cyno & reader, collei & reader. 1k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child?

author's thoughts. THIS IS SO TASTY THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS.... ive never been in this situation before nor do i really understand what heartbreak feels like so i just kind of went with the flow. focused mostly on what [name]'s lil family would do and how they'd all react. anyway keep sending me your adoptive dad!kaveh thoughts guys i love this kind of interaction haha <3

tighnari is furious. alhaitham is level-headed and logical as usual, but not indifferent. kaveh cries with them. cyno is livid. collei is calm, comforting.

kaveh is very sensitive to his kid's mood; i have indeed emphasized this already. he knows when something is wrong. he senses the shift in their mood almost instantly. depending on where they are, he may or may not be the first to know.

do they return to gandharva ville after they break up with their first love (for the sake of angst, let's say it's because the ex-lover in question sought to abuse and take advantage of their selflessness, but [name] was not having it, and they were gaslit upon pointing it out and ended up being called needy)? if so, tighnari will know first.

archons forbid their ex ever show up at gandharva ville for any kind of treatment. tighnari will treat them, yes, but he will make it hell. he will make it worse before making it better. medical malpractice? no, that's not what it is, silly. he's not even a licensed doctor! how can he commit malpractice if he doesn't practice medicine in the first place?

...

tighnari can think all he wants about doing such a thing, but he really wouldn't. he couldn't do something like that. he'd have a guilty conscience forever if he did. however, that does not mean he won't give [name]'s ex attitude. oh archons, he has all the attitude in the world to spare for the asshole who hurt his nibling (a/n: that's the gn term for niece or nephew).

[name] is not needy. sensitive and clingy at times, perhaps, but needy? tighnari scoffs at the idea. they're self-sufficient, if anything. the simple truth is that [name] likes affection because they were spoiled with it when they were little. the fact that their first love gaslit them in such a disgusting way makes the forest watcher's blood boil.

"[name]..." he'd sigh, heart squeezing painfully in his chest as he held them against his chest, unable to do much of anything except listen to the way they sobbed. tighnari's tail instinctively curled around their waist. "it really is not your fault. some people are just... horrible like that. ultimately, you deserve better, so this is for the best. it may not feel that way right now, but one day, it will."

do they return to kaveh and alhaitham's shared home instead? is kaveh home? if not, then alhaitham will know first. it isn't improbable. kaveh is often away on work trips, so it isn't hard to imagine that the akademiya's scribe would know first.

alhaitham hates seeing kaveh cry. he wishes he would stop expending himself to a harmful extent for the sake of others.

he also hates seeing [name] cry. why should they spend time crying over a manipulative asshole who had no capacity to understand them as a person? they shouldn't, and yet... they are.

like tighnari, alhaitham sighs. he's stroking their hair away from their face with one hand, stopping every now and then to gently pat their tears dry, even though his efforts are fruitless; they end up crying more regardless of how many times he dries their face. their head is laid in his lap. it's the least the scribe can do until kaveh gets home.

"[name], they're not worth your time. you were raised to be kind and emotionally articulate. it isn't your fault that they tried to take advantage of that."

he sighs again.

"i'm proud that you refused to let them manipulate you."

alhaitham's blatant, clearly-worded praise is rare. it soothes their soul a little.

if kaveh is home, however...

they will be sobbing in his arms within the hour. he always knows when something is wrong, and when something is wrong? he's there to support and console them. that is what any good father would do. kaveh's heart shatters on their behalf when they manage to choke out between tears that their love had so callously tried to abuse the kindness they offered to all those around them.

kaveh undoubtedly cries with them, holding their figure tightly against his.

"honey, it—" he chokes, aggressively wiping his face with one hand while the other remains secured around their waist. "it's not you, okay? it's not your fault. people, they— they like to try and take advantage of things they don't have. kind people don't take advantage of kindness. good people don't take advantage of goodness. you did well. you handled it well."

cyno will always be the last to know, regardless of what order everyone else finds out in.

cyno is also the most furious.

it's probably in [name]'s ex's best interest to flee the country. the wrath of general mahamatra cyno is an utterly horrifying thing to be the target of. he won't physically hurt them, no (although he would have to put all of his self control into practice in order to not knock all of the kid's teeth out...), but he will make it very clear that he does not want them anywhere near his nibling ever again unless it's to apologize, and even then... he had better not see them lingering too long.

the next time he sees kaveh and his kid, cyno plants a firm hand on [name]'s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, saying, "they won't bother you again."

a slight chill runs up their spine at that. "...what did you do to them..?"

"don't worry about it."

anyway congrats to [name]'s manipulative ex! they have made enemies with four of the most influential people in sumeru <3

(and as a little bonus treat:

collei, now in her late teens, is some kind of mix between tighnari, alhaitham, and kaveh. she's not mad. she's just disappointed, really; she loves [name] like a little sibling and just doesn't understand why anyone would knowingly hurt them. she knows very well that such cruel people do exist—she was the victim of one such person, after all—but... it's so hard for her to fathom. collei is very gentle and understanding in this situation, letting them cry on her shoulder for as long as they need to. once their tears have dried, she takes them out on patrol with her.

she makes them fresh pita pockets over a fire and spends the afternoon laughing and joking around with them to help them feel better. she'll even tell one of cyno's awful jokes if it will make them smile. <3)

adoptive dad!kaveh taglist: @kaoyamamegami. send a non-anonymous ask to be added. please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ]#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #platonic kaveh x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #collei x reader

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blazehedgehog · 7 months ago

Note

What do you think of the idea that YouTubers in the 2010s are the reason Sonic had/has a bad reputation?

It's really stupid. Completely unfounded.

You know why Youtubers in 2010's felt that way? Because a lot of people outside of the Sonic fandom felt that way.

I was in high school when Sonic Adventure 1 came out. I got my Dreamcast for Christmas in 1999. Purely by surprise, my brother sent me $200 for Christmas that year after not hearing from him for a decade. I was living in Colorado, and we'd had a white Christmas, meaning the roads were too slick to drive anywhere on December 26th. But I knew I wanted that Dreamcast.

The local Wal-mart was a little over a mile away. So, I bundled up and hiked it. With other money I got for Christmas that year, I had just enough for the Dreamcast, Sonic Adventure, an off-brand VMU, an issue of Official Dreamcast Magazine with a demo disc, and a lightgun -- I'd wanted House of the Dead 2 and I was desperate for a home port of The Lost World.

I played Sonic Adventure all day, every day, for like a week. Some of that was the fault of the cheap VMU I got -- it wasn't even a VMU, it was just a memory card, and it was half the price of the official thing. For whatever reason, Sonic Adventure (and ONLY Sonic Adventure) had trouble saving to that thing. My saves would frequently corrupt and disappear. I didn't mind as much as you'd think. I willingly and happily replayed Sonic Adventure over, and over, and over, and over.

When I got back to school in January of 2000, a lot of other kids had gotten Dreamcasts and Sonic Adventure. And it turned out I was the Sonic Adventure evangelist.

I wouldn't say everyone hated Sonic Adventure, but they were pretty frustrated with it. The main talking point was that there were too many characters in the game and most of them weren't very good. Everyone had their ranking list for who they'd rather be playing as, and universally, everyone just wanted to keep playing as Sonic. Knuckles, Amy, and Big brought up the rear for the most-hated gameplay styles. A lot of kids were saying they weren't even going to bother finishing the game if it meant having to play as Amy and Big.

My point of view was that it was normal. Sonic 2 introduced Tails, Sonic 3 introduced Knuckles, so it makes sense that Sonic Adventure would introduce new playable characters as well. It did little to address their complaints that most of the non-Sonic characters were annoying.

This sentiment never went away. A year later, in 2001, Penny-Arcade, basically the biggest webcomic in the world at that point, awarded Sonic Adventure 2 "the best Sonic game where you do not play as Sonic" award, which was less of an actual award and more of a jab at how Sonic wasn't actually in 75% of that game.

Then the Gamecube ports started coming in, which, if you've watched my Definitive Way to Play series, you'd know that SA1 and SA2 were quick and dirty ports that introduced a lot of problems in visuals, control, and sound. Reviews for those versions deservedly slammed them, citing poor music that drowned out the dialog, rapidly dated visuals, and a generally buggy presentation, on top of all the problems people had with the original Dreamcast releases.

After that, the decline really hit its stride. Sonic Heroes, then Shadow the Hedgehog, then Sonic 06. A real triple whammy of things just getting worse, and worse, and worse. Sonic 06 in particular was so much worse that it hit the fabled point where it wrapped around to being kind of funny for some people.

All of this was YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS before "2010's Youtubers" ever stepped in front of a microphone. Those people were just recounting the lives they had lived.

Anyone who thinks 2010's Youtubers did anything are just revealing how young they were back then, and how ignorant they were about the general temperature of things beyond "after my nappy time and my juice box I'm going to play the colorful animals game, yay!!!"

Before that gets me into too much trouble, I'd also like to say that obviously, times change. Opinions are a fluid thing. There will always be a "younger generation" that thinks about things in a different way than the older generation. Anyone, no matter what era they grew up in, can go back and find some beloved nostalgic classic getting blasted by critics. (For example: recently I rewatched Howard the Duck, a legendary bomb for Lucasfilm, and I loved that movie as a kid)

Loving something that you realize everybody hated when it originally came out is kind of just part of the human experience. A rite of passage, almost. But it helps to embrace that perspective, understand it, and realize you can still keep liking that thing regardless.

2010's Youtubers did nothing except exist.

#questions #Anonymous #sonic the hedgehog #sega #sonic team #sonic adventure #dreamcast #storytime #howard the duck #generational differences

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mayflowers515 · 10 months ago

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Smiling Critters: Non Lore-Heavy Headcanons!

This is just what I personally think they'd be like in my AU, if you guys have different interpretations, that's fine!

(I could also do scenarios based on the headcanons too if you guys wish! )

Reference post for characters if needed: https://www.tumblr.com/mayflowers515/743811211445010432/smiling-critters-in-gacha-life-2?source=share

Kickin would 100% call his friends a specific nickname. It's his way of approving that they're cool to him. He barely calls them by their actual name unless the situation is serious. Here is what he'd call everyone:

Bubba = Nerd (in the most affectionate way possible here); Can also imagine Kickin calling him sir or mister sometimes

Bobby = Beary or BB (may or may not be based off of content I've seen with these nicknames for her-)

Hoppy = Hopscotch (calls her by last name because he thinks it's cool already; Hoppy would use that logic against him and call him Chicken occasionally); He also likes to call her Hops for short

CatNap = Sleepyhead, Sleeping Beauty

DogDay = Mr. Brightside, DD

Crafty = Princess (that would probably freak Crafty out since she thinks he knows of her status; in reality, he calls her this because of her vibes, especially after a certain scenario I have planned for her)

Picky = Piggy (doesn't really have any other idea for a nickname, but he wants to come up with one that sounds "more cool"; tried this by calling her PP, but didn't realize how bad it was until the first and only time he used it for her)

Kickin would call himself KC, since y'know, he wants everyone to know he's cool, too! (credits to mr. story for the idea)

2. Crafty has a very good singing voice. She doesn't show it off for a couple reasons though:

Because she's a little shy about showing it off in the first place

Doesn't want to overpower her friends if they sing together

She's worried her friends will find a way to link her voice to her background (will discuss more in a future post)

(Based off a voice canon video I saw for her where her singing voice was based off of Fluttershy's from "Filli Vanilli")

3. When Picky isn't cooking or eating, she likes to dance and tend to her personal garden. It's filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, but she also has some flowers and shrubs, too! She likes to use products from her garden for her cooking sometimes.

4. CatNap's house smells like all kinds of specific essential oils. He is the one who uses them the most of the Critters, which helps set the atmosphere for his calming home.

5. I already mentioned before that Crafty can never keep her clothes clean for the whole day. But she really likes her overall dresses, so she keeps a lot of the same ones just in case one of them gets too messy.

6. Kickin is great with comebacks and wordplay. Even in the toughest of situations, he usually pieces together slick phrases. The only exceptions are if he were to start like-liking someone or if he had an idol he admired. He'd get more nervous and fumble his words by that point.

7. Here is what I like to think the Critters want to be when they become adults (they're still children in this AU):

CatNap (counselor; something to do with aromatherapy too most likely)

DogDay (doesn't know; he hasn't thought about it)

Bobby (nurse or maybe a therapist)

Crafty (artist of course; may be more inclined to be a painter)

Kickin (journalist or reporter?; I can see him commentating on things like sports and current events lol)

Hoppy (soccer player or coach)

Bubba (professor, but not sure of which subject rn)

Picky (chef, no surprise there. She wishes to run her own restaurant someday)

8. Inspired by some comics, but CatNap's tail can extend to really long lengths. His friends use this as an advantage to drag him along or hold onto him when he's not aware of his surroundings or he's asleep. His tail can only extend to so long though (maybe four-five feet?) so eventually it can get pulled. He doesn't like that. His friends realize this the hard way, and from that point forward, they tend to drag him along their adventures in a wagon. Typically DogDay is the one to watch over the wagon.

9. In contrast to CatNap, DogDay is much more nervous during the nighttime. He tries to hide this to not worry his friends, but they can usually see through him. He doesn't exactly get the best sleep all the time, yet he still manages to operate smoothly for his friends (maybe through coffee? I can see him drinking that-)

10. Possible fears of all the Critters

Bobby (being alone and abandoned, canon; can also see her fearing bugs too, but she can't bring herself to kill them since she loves and values all life regardless)

Picky (sickness, a part of this plays into her need to stick to a healthy lifestyle, and she stresses out whenever she feels she made too many unhealthy choices; she also hates being sick because then she can't provide for her friends)

Kickin (sudden noise and heights; he would try to hide this to keep his cool image, so he brushes off his fears so others can't see it from the outside. However, on the inside and sometimes more obviously the outside, he is TERRIFIED)

Bubba (failing his friends and leading them down the wrong direction; tries to prevent this from happening by being as well-informed on as many topics as he can think)

DogDay (the dark; he always needs a nightlight in his room so he can go to sleep better)

CatNap (his second scent; more elaboration on that sometime soon but if you know what I'm referring to, you know...; can also seem him fearing water a little since y'know, cat behavior-)

Hoppy (needles; I just don't see her holding up well at the doctor's personally-)

Crafty (public audience; she can only handle so many people watching her at once until she feels she needs to get out)

11. People would expect Bubba and Crafty to constantly be at odds due to their different thinking approaches (left brain + right brain), but they actually get along quite well! They may have a couple disagreements, but otherwise they are usually open to what the other is saying. Basically, an "I want what you have" kind of situation but downplayed. Mainly since Bubba isn't as good with thinking outside of the box meanwhile Crafty isn't the most book smart. They would bounce off each other well. They would work well together when it comes to devising plans with their friends. Bubba would explain the plan while Crafty sketches the plan's details.

12. Crafty can draw at fast speeds, but she can't draw anything super detailed. Still, she is surprised herself that it doesn't look too bad when she rushed it.

13. Speaking of speed, Hoppy can, in addition to moving fast, speak fast and somehow still remember what she says. When others don't process what she says, she would be a bit more annoyed and say it slower. She doesn't speak fast often, only in situations where she is really enthusiastic or she's in a panic.

14. In terms of their more animal-like qualities, DogDay is the most expressive of the Critters. He wags his tail and raises his ears a lot depending on the circumstance.

15. Bobby can have very bad anxiety in stressful situations. Worse case scenario, she may even just ball up and become unresponsive to stimuli.

16. PB&Js are still Picky's favorite food, but she eats them in moderation when she's felt good on what she ate for the rest of the day. She will refuse to eat them when she's stressed or if she gets sick. She gets like this with any unhealthy food in general actually, just more inclined to do it with PB&Js.

17. (Based on that road trip image of them) They're all kids, but in their world, they're able to drive. Still, there are some Critters you should trust behind the wheel more than others:

Bubba (not only would he be safe on the road, but his great memory basically makes him a walking GPS, assuring an instant trip to their destination without getting lost; despite this, it's usually #2 who drives more because he's usually tasked as the voice of reason to make sure no one riots while someone is behind the wheel; he also slightly manages his memory better when he isn't multitasking)

DogDay (is usually the one that drives everyone when they're out on road trips. He is generally very calm behind the wheel and will encourage others on the way to wherever they're going, so he's also considered fun to have as the driver by his friends)

Picky and Bobby (tied; both would do just fine behind the wheel and would both be careful of the cars around them and the passengers in the car; would give Picky the edge here though since she doesn't have to raise her seat as much just to drive compared to Bobby)

Kickin (would care more about looking cool on the road than actually driving well. When he isn't focused on his ego, he doesn't drive too badly. He may have a slight bit of road rage, though)

CatNap (he would be better during night time trips as he is more active then, but even then it wouldn't happen often since driving can get stressful. Also, at any other time besides night, he runs the risk of sleeping on the spot even while driving, so no, please don't let him drive…) (ngl, him and #7 could be interchangeable here; both have drawbacks whenever they're behind the wheel-)

Crafty (she's pretty mediocre when it comes to driving. Her mind usually spirals in a panic whenever she's behind the wheel, and she'd focus more on the panic of driving at all than actually driving, so for her sanity, don't let her drive...)

Hoppy (never, EVER have her behind the wheel. The car will crash and burn in seconds... She can get really impulsive when it comes to driving and I can imagine her having some bad road rage; the Critters let her drive once after she pleaded with them so many times; probably in a situation where for some reason DogDay and/or Bubba couldn't do it. She led them in a ditch, crashing into someone's party down below, unintentionally of course. Everyone was okay, but they never let her drive again after that)

18. In addition to wanting to be the cool friend, I can also imagine Kickin wanting to joke around and make his friends laugh from time to time. He also pulls harmless pranks sometimes (sometimes he is unaware how his pranks potentially hurt others until it's too late though-)

19. Bobby has a really big sweet tooth. Especially when it comes to chocolate. Also, if anyone were to give her a chocolate heart, she would melt in their arms on the spot (doesn't matter if the intention is platonic or romantic, she just loves receiving chocolates, especially the hearts)

20. Hoppy would have the most game equipment of her friends. She has equipment that ranges across all kinds of sports as well as other physical activities.

21. If Crafty was given sidewalk chalk and there was pavement outside of her friends' houses (though I don't think this is the case in canon sadly), she would use it to draw something outside her friends' houses as a way to show appreciation.

22. Bubba would have his own mini library inside his house will all different genres of books. The books of this library are books he collected that were from his family's or from what he found when they were out and about. He occasionally lets his friends borrow books from him if they need to.

23. The Critters are vegan. Things like burgers and milk come from other sources for them. So no worries, in this version, the burger Picky was about to eat in the intro was sourced from plants (she wouldn't actually eat animals... right? *cough cough* canon version... *cough)

24. CatNap would be the best at telling spooky stories. He already has a naturally quiet voice. All he'd need to do to make it sound more spoopy for his friends is give it a creepy tone, and already that makes him a good scary storyteller...

25. DogDay doesn't really make his own food often, but he actually does like baking more than people give him credit for. His favorite thing to bake is cookies (especially ones that look like dog treats!)

26. This meme explained for Critters:

"We have food at home" - Bubba, Picky

"MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!" - Hoppy, DogDay, Kickin, Bobby

In between these two sections: Crafty (depends on her mood)

*Pulls into the drive through as children cheer* *Orders a single black coffee and leaves* - CatNap (not meaning to be rude, but just doesn't want to put up with ordering for everyone so he orders for him; he's too tired for that ok?*

27. CatNap has the worst reaction time and is the most clumsy of the Critters. It's literally canon that the guy trips on his own tail. That HAS to be a thing here. It just has to.

28. This may come as a surprise, but CatNap actually does like drinking coffee, except he mainly has it at nighttime so he can stay up and help people in need of assistance at nighttime; he puts a lot of creamer and milk in his coffee, though- He doesn't like black cofffee (I imagine in the McDonalds meme he takes the coffee home with him and prepares it with his usual creamer and milk)

Welp, this is pretty long and scrambled. Sorry if some characters have more headcanons than others. If I think of other hcs I can update this! I do actually have more I'd like to share sometime, but the ones I'm thinking about are more lore-heavy for the characters so I'll put that in a separate post :)

#smiling critters #dogday #catnap #bobby bearhug #craftycorn #bubba bubbaphant #picky piggy #kickin chicken #hoppy hopscotch #justsomepersonalhcs

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mama-qwerty · 8 months ago

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The Garden

Just something I wrote up really quick in one of the servers I'm in. Trying to dust off the brain and get it working again.

I am rusty. Holy moly.

~~~

Callie stood in the side yard of her house, staring at the weed-bed her landscaping had become. Thistles and onion grass had crowded out any other plant she had tried to grow--although, granted, that had been a number of years ago.

She wasn't a gardener. By any stretch of the imagination.

She had everything she needed to deal with the offending weeds. A hand shovel, a full-sized shovel, a little hand rake, and a paper bag to toss the pulled weeds into.

Everything except the motivation to get started.

She hated dealing with this crap.

"Whatcha lookin' at, Mom?"

A voice behind her, and she turned. Silver stood with his head cocked to one side, a curious look on his face. She sighed, offering him a little smile.

"Just doing some gardening, Bug. Wanna help?"

A smile brightened his muzzle, and he nodded. "Okay!"

The boy stepped forward, and the two took to their knees, looking upon the chore before them. Callie pointed out the different weeds and named them, explaining how they'd need removed by the root to make sure they didn't grow back. Then they'd have to turn the soil, remove any grubs or other harmful insects, before planting any of the decorative flowers she'd bought.

Silver seemed excited to help, and the two worked for a while, slowly pulled the weeds out.

"Greetings, Callie," a deep voice called behind them, and they turned. Knuckles emerged from the trees surrounding her home, and he nodded toward the hedgehog. "Silver."

"Hey, Knux," the redhead called. "To what do I owe the visit?"

"Mother would like to borrow your spare coffee maker. There was an . . . incident with ours."

"Sonic or Tails?"

"Tails. He insisted he could make it work faster and . . . it did not end well."

"Hmm. That kid."

"Yes. Mother was not pleased."

"I can imagine," Callie said, pushing herself to her feet. "I think it's in the basement, but it may take me a few minutes to find it."

The echidna nodded. "Of course."

She turned to the hedgehog. "Silver, why don't you show Knux what we were doing. Maybe he'd like to help."

Silver nodded. "Okay."

A few minutes later, as Callie dug through the boxes in her basement, Silver and Knuckles sat near the weedy patch near the house. They stared at the many unwelcome batches of vegetation, a silence hanging over them for a moment.

"That is an impressive amount of weeds."

"Yeah," Silver said. "Mom's not really into this kind of thing. She keeps saying she'll let me make a garden, but we never get around to doing it."

Knuckles turned to him. "You would like a garden?"

Silver nodded. "I like to take care of plants and think it would be fun to grow my own vegetables."

The echidna lowered his head as he thought. "Hmm." He lifted his head, his chest pushed out. "I will help you, young hedgehog."

"Help me what?"

"With your garden. Mother has allowed me one at home, and it is very relaxing."

"Really??"

"I will help you now."

Silver furrowed his brow. "What about the weeds?"

Knuckles waved a hand over them. "They are not going anywhere. Come. Show me where you would like your garden."

The two hurried off to a spot in the yard Silver had been eyeing for his garden for months. And at first things went well. Knuckles used his claws to dig in the ground, turning the earth and preparing it for planting. Silver used his telekinesis to rake the soil smooth, giving any rocks unearthed a quick flick to send them flying into the trees. They worked quickly, and soon they had a proper garden plot prepared, ready for seeding.

And then Callie returned.

"What are you two doing??"

It came out a little harsher than she intended, and startled the two boys with her tone. Silver jerked, sending the rake and three rocks he still held in his telekinesis flying toward her.

Callie gasped, holding the coffee maker before her as a makeshift shield, before Knuckles hit her in the midsection, shoving her out of the way.

Silver came rushing over, hands over his mouth, eyes wide.

"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he cried, his forehead fan bristling in fear.

"It's okay," she said, Knuckles helping her to her feet. "My fault for startling you." She looked back at the roughly tilled earth. "What are you doing?"

"Making our garden!" Silver said, his fear forgotten in his excitement. He rushed over and gestured to it with extended arms. "Look! Knuckles helped me get it started!"

"He did?" Callie cast the echidna a raised eyebrow. "Did it occur to you to ask me first?"

Knuckles shrugged. "He said you kept promising to make one, and hadn't gotten to it. I was merely doing what you had already promised."

She narrowed her eyes. "I suppose that's fair." She looked back at the garden. "I'm not sure how well it'll do over there, though. That spot seems pretty bad with grubs and rocks."

Silver waved a hand. "I took care of the rocks, and Knuckles took care of the grubs."

At first Callie's brow furrowed. Then it cleared as understanding hit. She flicked her eyes down to the echidna.

"You didn't."

He looked back, unblinking.

"Knuckles."

He shrugged. "They have a different taste here, but it is not necessarily bad."

Callie pulled a face. "Gross, Knux."

"We're not in trouble, are we?" Silver asked, pulling a head spike forward to give a little tug. "I mean, you did say I could make one."

Callie gave a little sigh, nodding. "Yeah, I did say that." Another sigh. "Why don't you head in and grab those seeds we've been holding onto and you and Knuckles can get them planted, yeah?"

Silver smiled, one that stretched across his muzzle, and he zipped into the house with a speed that would have made Sonic proud. Callie watched him with a smile, before looking down at the echidna.

"Did you really eat all those grubs?"

He shrugged. "Should I have saved some for you?"

"Gross, Knux."

A little smile curled one corner of his lips, and he walked over to the tilled earth. He sorted through a batch of dirt, before picking something out and bringing it to her. A small white grub squirmed in his outstretched hand, and she curled her lip in disgust.

"Don't."

His smile spread wider.

"Knuckles Wachowski, don't you dare."

He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest, and popped the insect into his mouth like popcorn. He chewed twice, then swallowed, a loud, exaggerated, sound.

Callie nearly gagged. "Ohmygawd, you're such a turd."

That produced a loud laugh from the echidna, and he shook his head as Silver returned, his arms full of seed packets.

"Ohmygosh!" he cried, bouncing up and down in his excitement. "I don't know what to plant first!"

Callie gestured to Knuckles. "Ask Mr. Grub Breath over there. I'm gonna sit over here and tend to the weeds and try to forget what I just saw."

Knuckles laughed again, and the two boys began the task of setting up the different rows and sections for Silver's garden.

Callie sat before the weed patch, thankful for something else to focus on.

#my writing #knuckles the echidna #silver the hedgehog #callie macpherson #sonic fanfiction

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gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes · 6 months ago

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The Shield Bearer (E, Canon divergence, Howlies era) with art by @beardoesdoodles.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

Chapter 1:

The helmet bounced as it hit the rocky ground, shattering the fragile shale and sending shards in every direction. Gabe caught it on the way back up and the rest of the Howlies scattered. Grumbles of protests rumbled throughout the team but nobody said a word, not even Dum Dum. They all knew when to keep their mouths shut. Especially when it was Bucky's turn to lose his cool.

"If I have to chase down this goddamn shield one more time –!"

He slammed the vibranium disc into the ground where it parted the rock beneath it and stayed there, listing slightly to one side.

For lack of anything else to take his anger out on, he kicked at the dirt. It fanned out over the fire. The flames collapsed for a few beats, then, as the wind whistled through the gorge, reignited. It was like the searing burn in Bucky's gut, ever constant and resilient.

He began to pace while the others regrouped around the fire. "Not only do I have to cover his ass, I've got to clean up after him, too!"

Bucky dropped his gun on the ground, ignoring the vocal cringe from Denier, and picked up the coffee pot from the fire. He poured into an awaiting cup and took a mouthful.

Ugh. It was awful.

Jim scowled at him as he bent to spit it on the ground, and Bucky thought better of it. The guys were exhausted, having not slept in three days. It wasn't Jim's fault the whole thing had gone tits up, nor Monty's or Gabe's or Dum Dum's. It was his responsibility, because he'd taken it alone. And boy, was he regretting that decision.

He swallowed the horrible stuff and set his pack on the ground. The others had already set up camp in the gorge. The mountains rose up on either side, and only the brush offered any kind of cover. If HYDRA were to locate them, they'd all be sitting ducks.

"He back yet?" Bucky huffed as he sat next to Gabe. The man had rolled over a few of the larger rocks. Uncomfortable as hell, Bucky reminded himself to appreciate it. Jones wasn't even supposed to be over there.

"No sign of him," Dum Dum confirmed. "He went after those two that got away."

Bucky closed his eyes and quietly fumed. "Of course he did."

The others looked ready to peel off again if Bucky got violent. He decided they'd had enough for the day.

"More rations for the rest of us then." Bucky unzipped his pack and grabbed a kit, then handed it to Gabe without taking any for himself.

Morita stared at him with those alert eyes. Nothing got past him. Nothing.

"You not eating, Sarge?"

"Nah. My stomach's tryna break free from my intestines." He rubbed his belly for good measure. "Would be a waste cos' it'll all come right back up again."

It was a lie; he was starving. But so was everyone else. They were supposed to pick up more rations in the city before they were unceremoniously ambushed by nazis. They had to have been waiting for them.

Monty loosened the red scarf around his neck and wiped the grime from his forehead, then set about rolling cigarettes. Dum Dum and Denier helped Morita portion out what little they had, and Bucky stared off into space.

Gabe stoked the fire with a long branch he'd broken off a nearby bush. It kept catching fire, and Jones kept putting it out in the dirt. Bucky thought about how it was a perfect metaphor for their plight. Everywhere they stamped out Hydra, more and more cropped up. It was exhausting.

He poured some more of the terrible brown liquid and forced it down. If he filled his belly with it, maybe he wouldn't feel so empty inside. Their mission had been a failure; besides not successfully procuring more supplies, they'd stirred a hornet's nest and a few of its inhabitants had gotten away.

They'd retreated to the mountains with the enemy hot on their tails. The mountainside was bare and treacherous, rocks sliding dangerously beneath their feet. At one point, they took such heavy fire they had to hole up under an outcropping of rock. They were already low on ammo, and they'd been ordered to save it. After all, they had other means of protection.

Only that particular protection detail didn't clean up his toys when he was done with them.

They ate in torrential silence.

Afterward, Bucky listened as Dernier did an ammo count, and Jim took a written inventory. It was stupid, really. They knew they were in trouble. But the mind did strange things when under duress, and sticking to a routine always worked for them.

Why had they named Bucky second in command anyway? Just because his dad was a cop and he knew a bit about guns? Or maybe they'd heard about his sparring record? That was probably it. Someone opened their big mouth and –

"Sarge."

They should have given it to Monty. He was a major, after all, and just because he was a Brit didn't mean he couldn't –

"Sarge!"

Bucky was shaken out of his own head by Dum Dum. "It's your turn for night watch."

Because, of course it was.

The guy's mustache twitched. "You sure you're up for it? You're lookin' kinda pale."

"I'm fine!" Bucky shouted, a bit on the intense side. He'd have to work on toning that down. "Go get some shut-eye."

And then, to the rest of them. "All of yeh. Get outta here!"

They didn't wait around for him to change his mind. Each man unrolled a well-used bedroll into the dirt near the fire and turned away from him. It seemed nobody wanted to make eye contact.

Nobody except for Gabe. "You want me to take this shift?" he asked, and Bucky felt the boot of guilt in his gut. All the shit that man had been through and he still had room for a heart.

"Nah." Bucky took the stick Jones had been using to stir out the rest of the embers. "I got it."

It made sense for Bucky to take the night watch. His hearing was better than the rest of them. He could tell an animal step from a human, a rolling rock from a tumbling grenade. His reflexes were faster and his stamina greater. And, for now, he had a little extra armor.

Bucky waited until everyone was still before snuffing out the fire with the rest of the coffee. It gave off a hissing kind of putridity that made him instantly regret it. But the rest said nothing, and the sky was already growing dark, and Bucky had a night full of thinking to do.

He rescued his rifle from the dust and propped it against his pack, then wrestled with the shield to free it from the ground. He fetched his bedroll and folded it against the pack, then sat and tried to imagine his stomach was angry because he was overly full.

Bucky pulled the shield into his lap like the world's most uncomfortable blanket and lifted his eyes to the summit. He scanned the treeless ridge on both sides, positioning himself so he could see out of the corner of his eyes if needed. Then he focused on the red glow rising in the west.

He'd never been to Greece. Hadn't even seen pictures of it. The whole thing was tragically surreal; he'd never have even left Brooklyn if it hadn't been for –

Well. He was in Greece now, not far from the coast. Even as high as they were in the mountains, he could smell the salty air. It was much different than the Atlantic back home.

Home. Wasn't that a strange concept? There was a time when he'd considered it a place. Four walls and a roof and a key to a door. Skyscrapers and cars and throngs of people. As it turned out, it wasn't the things that made it home. It was the people. The people he'd left behind, yes, but also the people he'd met over here.

Jim and Gabe. Monty. Dernier. Hell, even Dum Dum.

And that led him to their missing team member.

Oh, Bucky could throttle him. What was he thinking, leaving their little pack like that? And without a proper weapon to protect himself? For all Bucky knew, he'd been captured again, and there wouldn't be another chance to beat the snot out of him for being so stubborn and impulsive.

He fumed for so long his jaw began to ache and his hands cramped from clenching them so hard.

Anger eventually evolved into worry. The sunset was long since gone, and there hadn't been a moon for the past two nights. Greece may have fought off the Italians at one point, but they were close to making alliances. And the little band of nazis they'd encountered sure sounded German to him.

Bucky knocked the toe of his boot against a rock and thought about the expanding hole in his sock. Eventually, his skin would chafe and bleed, then ooze in the most painful of ways. But he'd recover, just like he'd done before. The wounds would heal themselves. And if he didn't say anything about it, nobody would know how wrong it was.

But he couldn't think about that. He'd spiral into madness, and men were counting on him.

And so, he hummed. To himself, of course. He hummed to melodies only he could hear, harmonized with orchestras inside his head. All the songs he'd loved, some that he hated even. Just to be able to forget.

But the tune always returned in the end. Turned bittersweet, thick with longing and want for something he couldn't have. A face swam before him, familiar but — different. And then another with red, red lips would cut in and take it from him.

"Fuck."

Bucky wiped a filthy hand over his face and shivered. The cold always affected him more intensely than anything else. Goosebumps rose in waves over his skin, muscles clenched, tendons gone tight over aching bones. It wasn't the temperature that triggered this reaction. It was the memory of a metal gurney, glinting steel instruments. A wickedly pleasant voice.

Bucky slid his palm over the ever-sharp edge of the shield. Without gloves, it could slice him open if he wasn't careful. Heaven knew how many fascists it had maimed and dismembered. He'd lost count.

He hated it, this perfect weapon. Hated what it did, what it stood for. Hated taking lives at all, even if they were demonically evil. It wasn't in his nature to kill anyone.

But.

The war was bigger than just him and his pacifist nature. This was the destruction of his people simply because of who they were. Elderly, ill, children; the fascist machine of death didn't care. The only goal in sight was world domination.

Most of all, though, quite selfishly, he hated how it had turned his best friend into a killer.

Bucky sighed and tucked the shield higher under his chin and tipped his head back to look at the stars. The constellations were different in this sky. Which was good, really. Counting and making his own connection between the brightest objects would keep him occupied as he waited out the rest of the night.

The waiting went on throughout the morning and into the afternoon. The guys played cards and rolled more cigarettes. Bucky tried to sleep, he honestly did. But a pair of blue eyes wouldn't let him.

As the second evening in the gorge began to fall, Dum Dum approached him with that stubborn sternness. "Sarge, we gotta do something. Ain't getting nowhere just sitting here."

Bucky knew it. But he couldn't admit to it.

"One more night," he said. And that was that.

Bucky took to his bedroll like everyone else and turned his back to the snuffed-out fire. A sliver of moon had appeared over the crest of the hill. He watched as it glided over the part of the sky he could see. And when it disappeared behind the mountain and well into the night, he began to dive back into his mind.

Luckily, Gabe's night watch ended early. Bucky heard the slide of the shield as it rolled out of his hands. Heard the soft thud as it fell to the ground. Felt the vibration of its alien metal on his exposed skin. Remembered those blue eyes looking over it at him.

Bucky pushed up from the ground and relieved Gabe of his post. He took the shield into one hand and rolled Jones over onto his bedroll with the other. The man grunted softly but didn't wake.

Something glinted from the ground where Gabe had sat. Something small and rectangular, its monochrome tones clear as day to Bucky's keen eyesight. He recognized it as a photograph, the face smiling out one that was all too familiar.

Bucky snorted softly as he lifted it. It appeared more than one person was enamored with Agent Carter. He tipped the photo into the upturned helmet and felt a sudden connection with Gabe that cut deep; he, too, wanted something he couldn't have.

Bucky couldn't sit and wait any longer. He took up his weapon with the shield and set off through the gorge and away from camp. There was something he wanted to say to someone.

When he was far enough out of earshot, and yet close enough to fulfill his guard duty, Bucky dropped both shield and gun and got it off his chest.

"I hate you, you sonofabitch!"

The hiss of his heated whisper echoed between the slopes on either side like one snake attacking another. His chest heaved and a sting of tears welled in his eyes. And he was glad there was no one about to see him fall apart.

He didn't know how long he stood there until he heard it. Until the hair at the back of his neck prickled in warning. He only knew the infuriating relief he felt as he counted the milliseconds between footsteps.

He would follow those footsteps anywhere.

As the footfalls neared and came to a halt, Bucky turned away from the sound and waited for the inevitable.

"Buck?"

Something in his heart clenched tight as he imagined those eyes staring down (down!) at him.

"You came back." It sounded accusatory, which was exactly how Bucky meant it.

"Yeah." A step closer, the heavy breathing more audible. "I uh – I left something behind."

Bucky couldn't stand it; his heart was near exploding. He spun on the spot and shoved the hated shield into that well-muscled and perfectly healthy chest.

"I'm not your slave," Bucky growled around the lump in his throat. He tried very hard not to look upon those broad shoulders. The way he was loaded down with a pack three times normal size. How that smart mouth opened and closed. Opened and closed. Opened.

"Never said you were."

There was an unexpected bite at the end of it. Bucky bristled.

"We were gonna leave in the morning whether you came back or not."

"As you should have."

And dammit. Why was he always so sanctimonious about it?

"The guys had a bet going on how far we'd get before you caught up."

"Oh, really?" The rumbling, deep voice wasn't supposed to be comforting him, of all people.

Bucky thought how stupid they must look. Standing in the middle of a war and not saying anything.

"I put money on you getting captured."

The man holding the shield stiffened. The weight he carried shifted. "C'mon Buck."

A hand reached for his forearm, but Bucky wasn't having it. He turned away and started walking back toward camp. There were a few tense moments where he wasn't followed.

And then — "I brought food."

Bucky recognized the tone. It was something he'd heard many times in the past after they'd had a fight. The new arrival was trying to make up, uncomfortable with the awkwardness of being absolutely fucking wrong.

"Great," Bucky said, continuing forward. "Guys are starving."

He thought he heard muttering over the sound of that shield being hefted over a massive forearm. But eventually, they were both walking back into camp. Bucky on soft, careful feet, and his companion like a bull in a china shop.

It was telling to their exhaustion that nobody else woke as the man set about unpacking. Bucky didn't help. He went back to his bed on the ground and pretended his heart wasn't thundering away in his chest. Nobody tried to talk to him. Nobody poked at the thoughts and fears and things he wanted badly to say but couldn't. Nobody even noticed he was there.

He was surprised to be woken from sleep by the overpowering smell of cooking meat.

"Morning sunshine," that familiar voice said. Bucky sat quickly, surveying the scene before him with mixed feelings.

Several tins steamed from the coals in the fire, sending mouth-watering aromas into the air. Around him, his pack of scoundrels was stirring. Wiping sleep-slow eyes. Blinking away the fog of a sudden awakening. Shouting with recognition as their vision cleared and they laid eyes on the newcomer.

"Cap!"

"Hey, he's back!"

"Look what the cat dragged in!"

"So you didn't abandon us for greener pastures!"

Bucky felt that one especially. It was made even more difficult by the soul-destroying gaze from impossible blue eyes across the fire.

"Nah. Couldn't do that to you."

The chatter around the fire was jubilant. Full of actual sustenance, eager to hear and share the stories of how they were separated, the guys grilled Rogers on each and every detail.

Apparently, the great Captain America had single-handedly caught up with and 'taken care of' the two scouts who had been tasked with trailing them. Then he'd met a group of locals who had banded together to make things difficult for the Italians. This resistance group was combating the theft of food destined for the smaller communities to prevent it from being sold on the black market. And, of course, Captain Rogers couldn't resist helping the little guys.

They packed up after breakfast. Cap had secured three tents, brand new by the smell of them, a week's worth of rations for all of them, and a stack of secondhand books.

"What? You reading now, Cap?" Dum Dum teased. Rogers smirked in his all-American way.

"It's the latest fad. You should try it!"

His optimism gave Bucky a headache.

Bucky tagged along at the back as they hiked down the mountainside. Captain Rogers had a destination in mind, and the group followed him without question. There were rights to wrong, after all. Evil to defeat. Liberty to defend. Who would say no to that?

They moved slowly, covering dusty, dry ground as they descended. Bucky kept to himself. He didn't want his foul mood to affect the rest. Something was wrong with him that couldn't be cured by a rousing noble quest.

Around the bend of another mountain, Bucky caught sight of the sea. It was aquamarine and clear and too good to be true. He fought back the hope in the back of his throat.

They set up camp just before the sun sunk below the horizon. The tents went up quickly and the rations disappeared the same. And when Bucky could no longer hold his tongue, he disappeared from the group.

And, naturally, Rogers followed. It wasn't but five minutes after he'd shucked out of his boots, hung up his holey socks, and laid his head on the ground that he entered the tent.

Bucky closed his eyes. He knew they couldn't go on avoiding it.

"I know you're mad at me, Barnes."

So it was to be Barnes, then. Bucky took a deep breath and sat up to face his roommate. "I'm not mad. I'm furious."

Rogers crouched in the entrance, allowing the flap to fall against his back before he entered fully.

He didn't speak, so Bucky continued. "These guys? They'll do anything you say. But they aren't superheroes. They can't shake off a bullet wound to the shoulder. Trek a hundred miles without food and water. Then get up and do it every day for a week."

Rogers remained silent. His wide knees poked out from thick thighs as he crouched, one hand on the ground between them.

"They're bound to break at some point. They need to rest."

His companion took a deep breath. "And what about you?"

Bucky sighed in exasperation. "Doesn't matter, does it? You don't listen to anything I say anyway!"

Rogers began to argue, but Bucky cut him off.

"No! You don't get to talk! You were safe in Brooklyn! There wasn't any danger of them sending you over here! Then you went and signed up for some fool's science experiment! And I will never, ever, be able to make it up to your Ma'!"

Bucky flopped on the ground and rolled away. It didn't matter anymore anyway. He'd failed at the thing he'd promised Sarah Rogers before she passed. But, dammit, he was going to die trying to make amends.

The tent was quiet for a long, long time. So long that, if Bucky didn't know better, he'd have thought the man had left. But there was the telltale clumsy shuffle as Rogers joined him on his own bedroll not two feet away.

Time passed slowly, excruciatingly so. Bucky's palms began to sweat and so did his bare feet. His heart continued to pound unhelpfully, and his mouth had gone desert-dry. He wasn't prepared to hear the heavy, steady inhale and exhale of a man asleep.

Bucky turned his head, and sure enough, Rogers had assumed his usual arms and legs spread eagle pose. Always a bed hog, he was even more so in this strange new body. And there was still that little click in the back of his throat as he breathed.

That familiar protectiveness was back, full force. Even though it was completely unwarranted. Bucky turned onto his back and listened out of habit. Just like he used to. Making sure his friend was still breathing.

Something closed around Bucky's throat, and something else made him roll toward that which vexed him so. A third something broke down the wall he'd built to protect himself, shattering the rage he'd been harboring since he returned.

Bucky found a warm palm, large enough to fit his whole cheek into. He nuzzled into it, resting the weary weight of his face inside, and breathed easy for the first time in days.

"Steve."

#stucky #wwii era #howlies #chapter 1 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ratedE

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amethystfairy1 · 7 months ago

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Heya! This may be a bit of a long ramble, so take as much time as you need for this! (Or just don't read it, I think I just need this off my chest)

I absolutely love TTSBC, and I've heard about OC's in the world, and I kinda went wild with my personal Minecraft OC.

However, before we get into them, I do not believe that Allay hybrids have ever been mentioned in TTSBC? I, a self-proclaimed allay lover, kinda thought of some ideas?

I guess I'm mainly sending this to you for inspiration(?), or to see if it all checks out in the world. That, or I just like rambling, I don't know.

But allays! In Minecraft, they're small, carry around your things, reproduce using amethyst (hehe) and music, and they're all around very cute! They're often found trapped by pillagers, stuck in cages most likely. They flit about like little fairies (oh my goodness)

Soooo, how would Allays fit into TTSBC? Well, I think that, as a species, they'd remain in the under city. With their blue skin, pure white eyes, and wings that don't fold into one's back properly (more in the next section) it'd be hard to glamour over. Also, I kind of headcanon allay hybrids with tails, long with a frayed/hooked end, which would also be somewhat hard to hide.

Their wings sort of stick out of their backs. They don't have actual muscles in the wings like avians, they are mainly controlled using one muscle connecting it to the back. They flit from exuding straight from the back, to the side, laying more flat against the back instead of each other, but they don't fold into themselves, if that makes sense.

Still, allay hybrids don't necessarily have the best time, especially in lower levels! See, while Allays in Minecraft don't give off light, they are still super luminous! You'll see them a mile away! They're also sky blue, the closest thing to the sky down there, which is an incredibly dangerous combo (not as dangerous as golden glowing things, but that's besides the point.) I don't know where else to put this, but they're also smaller than average, maybe 4'10", 5' at the highest?

They also heal very quickly, (2 hearts a second!) so that could also play a role in how they're used. With their relative strength (they can pick up whatever you give them), it could be that, especially in lower levels, they'd often be forced to work in hard conditions with very little consequence on the people employing them. They are passive mobs, so I think of them as glass cannons, somewhat. Strong, but easy to overwhelm. I also like to think their blood has healing properties (more about that later...), so that could be something interesting...

In higher levels, if they're more respected, they'd probably work with health facilities. I think they'd mainly flit about rooms, working as caretakers. Though, I think that any kind of job that requires moving a lot of stuff easily or anywhere they'd flit about is probably a good place for them to work. Restocking shelves, providing organization, etc.

However, because Allays reproduce/replicate (asexual reproduction?) using amethyst shards, I like to think that they naturally reside in rocky amethyst geodes in Minecraft, but were taken by pillagers. Similarly, Allays prefer darker, rockier, moister environments. For some, maybe a few glowberries would be best for them. Maybe the redstone lights of the higher levels is not the best for the allays, preferring the dark. Due to their luminosity, they may even be able to see in the dark, which the lights may overstimulate. Also, because of the amethyst shards, I think their makeup is more similar to a crystal than anything like regular flesh.

Rather, I think injuries tend to "chip" away, or, should the flesh be squishy, be tougher and more similar to the glowy, liquid filled balls that you could probably find in the dollar section of a Target, or similar to nanotape. Because crystals need to be heated and then cooled to be solid, they likely run very warm. However, should they need to, they can focus a little bit of glamour into their environment to cool themselves or warm themselves up if need be. If they bleed, often times, the blood with crystalize once being oxygenated, the outside world being cooler than their body, and would likely heal the wound bleeding easily. Should anyone need any healing from Allay blood, they would either need fresh Allay blood, or blood that has been warmed to prevent it from crystalizing immediately. A bit of a play on "healing crystals". Do you think that Scar'd purchase one if he ever went under?

I think if they got their arm chopped off, the wound would immediately close. Using limited glamour and a LOT of time, perhaps they could cool their environment slightly enough to move blood more outward from their wound to slowly build their arm back.

Let's talk about mating rituals now! I think gift giving is a big one, especially since they love collecting stuff. Gems or cool rocks would probably be the main one. Spending quality time with their mate with some music also probably sounds nice, too. Because of their crystaline biology, I like to think that their vocalizations sound like windchimes.

I don't know if these work completely, considered how fast I came up with this, so do let me know how you'd change things up if you want.

This is a long one, but I hoped you enjoyed? If you did bring up Allays, then WHOOPS, this is a whole lotta nothing, so please ignore if you'd like.

Still, drink water, eat and sleep well, and remember to take breaks!

I LOVE THE RAMBLES

GIVE THEM TO ME

Ok first of all they sound so pretty? Like SO pretty? I love the idea of them using gemstones in their courting rituals because that is such a lovely concept? Just so beautiful to imagine? And that they're all little fairy-like people, such cuties! And you totally built in the darkness of the under-city considering how folks like that would be used for their specific abilities, especially their fragility combined with their strength being above average. And the glamor heat regulation! That's such a nice detail! I wonder if they would be able to share that sort of regulation with others? And if thats their glamor ability or maybe they're like voidwalkers wherein they use glamor for survival necessity but have a glamor ability on top of that?

I love long thoughts like this! Please send them my way, it always makes me so very happy to see people getting creative and feeling inspired by my AU! Thank you for sharing! 💖💖💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #through the sky blue cracks #ttsbc #ttsbc au #worldbuilding

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marshmallowprotection · 18 days ago

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Most outlaws wouldn't put much thought into their get-away, often opting for whatever could benefit them the most in the heat of the moment, but Unknown wasn't like that. He didn't want to leave fate to chance. It was too risky to go in blind, not doing any research for the heist ahead of time because one wrong swoop would have the authorities on his tail faster than they could holler for backup from a partner.

He didn't intend on getting caught any time soon and had those other criminals been smart enough to think twice about it, they'd have done the same. Even his brother knew better than to leave a game of chance on the board. It was better to know where to run, when to flee, and where to hide until the coast cleared of anyone willing to turn them in for a few measly coins.

That kind of forward thinking had saved his skin more times than he could count by this point in his life.

Fortunately, he had something that most crooks couldn't count on to help them out. He had the trust of his loyal horse to help him escape in the knick of time—every time. Begonia had been by his side since he and his brother helped a frock of horses escape from a dangerous situation. If they wouldn't have smashed the locks on the barn, those horses would've known nothing but cruelty on the trails.

Out of all those horses who dashed to freedom, two of them stayed behind as a show of respect to them. Saeran wanted them to run to freedom, but no matter how much he beckoned them to leave, they wouldn't stray. He and Saeyoung had no choice but to take them in, and he named his horse after a flower he once saw in V's old books. Begonia, an element of surprise, danger, and gratitude.

She was a gentle horse, all things considered, and he hoped to one day bring her to a field of grass as far as the eye could see so she'd have all the time in the world to graze and enjoy herself. She'd done her part to keep him safe, gnawing at his sleeve when it was time to make a break for it, whining at anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way, and galloping faster than a bullet when they needed her quick exit out of town.

He didn't have to worry about a messy get-away when she was with him. He was gone just as soon as he went in thanks to Begonia. She wanted nothing more than to look after him as he did for her to begin with. She was there for him when he didn't have another soul to turn to. Out on the range, it was just him and Begonia most of the time. It was easy to fall into a steady pattern with her, whistling a song under his breath as her footsteps dampened the sounds of buzzards.

He couldn't call many people his friends, but Begonia? She was more than his horse, his companion and partner in crime, she was a friend and deserved the best of the best. That's why he didn't turn down the box of fresh vegetables you sent with him on his way outta town. You meant for him to use those in a stew, but he intended to use them for more than just that.

As his dinner pot boiled, he sectioned out a chunk of the carrots for Begonia. It wasn't easy to carry that much food on the trails so the food you offered him had to be cooked as soon as possible... unless he wanted to make friends with the wildlife. He didn't intend to make a friend of the wild dogs, much less the coyotes, but you didn't know that. You always had someone with you to fend off wild animals if the worst came to light.

Unknown didn't.

All he had was Begonia and his guns. He didn't want to risk putting her in danger by carrying around too much food, either. It was better to do what he could every day than to worry about handling food on the trail. Besides... there was more to it than that. As long as he had food to eat, he didn't have to worry about a damn thing. He knew all the best spots to find food if he needed something. His energy levels would never diminish.

He didn't have to live the way he did when he was a little boy... not anyone. If he wanted food, he could find it, and nobody could order him to starve! It was the same for Begonia. She didn't have to work her ass off to earn her keep. She deserved to graze and eat as much as she wanted. They belonged to no man, and they were as free as a gentle breeze.

He couldn't stay healthy like he promised you if he didn't do the same for his horse. He knew just how to do enough for himself, after all. As long as he knew what would fill his guts, he knew what could be left out of the pot to go to her hungry cause.

"Cereus didn't half'ta go this far, I'd'a had a bellyache if I ate all o' this by myself," he grumbled. The repetition motion of the blade kept him busy, at least.

A faint whinny caught his attention just as he went to add the final batch of veggies to the pot.

It wasn't that odd for Begonia to sit with him when he took refuge in a cave, but tonight felt different than other nights. She'd crawled deep into the cave with him to avoid sleeping outside, likely because... she saw something in the distance she wanted no part of, and he wasn't one to tell her no when she did something like that. He didn't have it in him to scold her for something like that.

If something felt wrong with her comfort, then she knew better than to wait around in the dark for something to get her first.

If something found her—it wouldn't take long before it found him.

But, if he didn't know any better, he could've sworn she was inching closer and closer to him. He turned his head to the side and noticed she was only a few steps away from him now. He sighed at her quiet antics and patted the spot next to him. "Come on, girl. If y'ain't feelin' comfortable then y'might as well enjoy the fire."

Begonia took that as a good sign. She worked her way next to him but instead of resting her head on the ground, she tucked her head into his lap and bristled. He stared at her and she stared at him with her big, pleading eyes. If he wouldn't have known she was a horse... he would've guessed that she was trying to be like one of those cats that frequented the church his brother made donations to.

None of those cats liked his brother, much to his disappointment, but... they liked him and Begonia plenty. Unknown figured it was because they didn't get in their way. He didn't like to be crowded around by some fool, either!

He stroked the back of her head. "I don't mind yer' head on my lap, Beg. But m'afraid y'can't crawl on my lap like them cats do, okay? It ain't nothing when it's yer' head 'cause yer' head don't wear nothing to me, but the rest of ya' could crush my legs. Yer' a big girl, y'know that."

She made a noise that sounded akin to a huff. As if I would crush my Papa, he could practically hear her say. You used to sleep with your head on my side all the time!

"Don't make that ol' pouty face," he whispered as her eye brightened. "Y'kept me feelin' safe n' sound when I slept. So, I reckon... I'll do the same for you if y'ain't hungry yet. Go on, take a rest, girl. Sorry y'ain't the right size to sleep like them cats... but I hope this is the next best thing."

Begonia settled in and closed her eyes as he continued to work on his dinner. He didn't mind her attention. If she didn't feel good, she would let him know, and this out of anything else let him know that she only felt safe by his side. He could say she was among the few that did the same for him, so giving up his lap for the night wasn't a problem. She was a good horse, and she deserved to feel safe, too.

I'll have ta' tell Cereus that yer' such a spoiled girl, though... guess that's my fault as yer' Papa. I just can't stand seein' ya sad.

#cowboy unknown #cowboy saeran #mystic messenger #mod kait #mysme #saeran choi #mysticmessenger #choi saeran #mm #drabble

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sparkles-rule-4eva · 2 years ago

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WHOLESOME SONIC & TAILS WEDNESDAY BABYYY!!!

Short fic I whipped up today-- I know it's probably been done before, but I wanted a "Sonic's learning how to care for a toddler + hearing each other talk for the first time + Sonic naming him" all in one and haven't found all that in one fic yet so here we are!!

Looking after a toddler was harder than it sounded.

Especially when said toddler needed to be watched by the fastest thing alive, who was used to racing through everything with absolutely nothing holding him back.

Sonic studied the little two-tailed fox kit at his feet, trying to figure him out. Technically, no one had assigned him to watch this little one, but he'd found the poor thing getting bullied by some jerks. He'd taken care of the bullies, and the next thing he'd known, the little fox was flying after him. Yes, flying, using his twin tails as a helicopter of sorts.

That was all it took for Sonic to feel like the little kit was now his responsibility.

They hadn't actually spoken. Sonic wasn't sure if the fox kit could even talk yet, and he didn't see the use in trying to communicate with him vocally.

It was harder to keep on running when he now had to make sure the kit was safe. He hadn't realized how many needs one had until he needed to think of two mouths to feed, two places to sleep, etc.

It wasn't necessarily hard. It just took some getting used to. Nothing Sonic the Hedgehog couldn't handle!

He looked up and scanned their surroundings. They'd stopped for a break in a small, sparse forest. The fox kit was going back and forth from looking around nervously to gazing up at Sonic with owlish eyes. He stood not even a foot away from the hedgehog, clearly trusting him to protect him from any more danger.

Sonic waved a little to get the kit's attention, then pointed onward to the path they'd been following. The little one nodded vigorously, then spun his tails and hovered into the air. Sonic gave a single, firm nod, then took off down the trail.

As they sped along the way (the kit was able to keep up fairly easily, it was cool how flight seemed to automatically enhance speed), Sonic snuck a tiny glance back at his tiny friend. The fluffy little fox continued flying, unaware of Sonic's curious gaze.

Sonic still didn't know his name. Sure, he'd only been taking care of him for a week or so, but he learned the names of most folks he met the same day he met them. Granted, most folks he met weren't neglected orphan (?) toddlers.

Sonic had all but decided to adopt him at this point, despite not having known him for long. So would that leave the naming process up to him?

He smiled a little to himself as he continued running. Sounded good.

The thing was, though, he hadn't actually ever named someone before. Heck, he wasn't even yet twelve years old himself.

What kind of name would fit the little fox? He was small, still had all his baby-fluff, was a brownish-gold color, had big, bright, sky-blue eyes, with white fur across his stomach and muzzle (and obviously the tips of his twin tails).

An idea of a name, or nickname, was just on the tip of his tongue when suddenly the sound of robots, a lot of them, creaked up ahead over the hill. It was followed by maniacal laughter, and Sonic skidded to a halt and rolled his eyes with a scoff. He'd know that laugh anywhere by now.

Excited by the idea of a fight, Sonic was just revving up to spindash over the hill into the battle, but a squeak of fear suddenly made his heart lurch, and he almost fell over himself trying to stop.

The fox kit.

He was a literal toddler. He seemed about three years old, nowhere near old enough to fight or defend himself. Sonic couldn't just expect him to follow him into the battle and manage to avoid all the lasers and claws and spikes. He would get hurt too easily.

But . . . Sonic never ran from a fight.

He crossed his arms and frowned in frustration at the grassy ground, tapping his foot impatiently as he tried to figure out what to do. He wanted to fight, he had to fight. He didn't know what Eggman was up to. For all he knew, the crazed scientist was planning something big and dangerous, and might carry it to fruition if Sonic didn't stop him now.

But he also had to keep the fox kit safe.

An idea hit him, and before he'd given himself the chance to think it through, he spun around, scooped up the little fox into his arms, and took off back into the forest-- just not quite at his normal speed so the sonic boom wouldn't give him away to Eggman.

As soon as Sonic had found a safe-looking hiding place-- a hollowed-out nook beneath some tree roots-- he knelt down and gently tucked the fox kit into the little space. Just for extra security, he scooped up some big chunks of moss and tucked it around his friend's body. He held up his hands in a "stay" gesture, but a part of him worried that the little one wouldn't understand fully what was going on.

"Stay here," he said aloud, trying to look both gentle and stern, and the kit's eyes grew wide. "I'm just going to fight off the scary robots. I'll come back for you."

He waited till he got a nod from the fox kit, whose mouth was agape and eyes were still huge. The moment he'd gotten the acknowledgement, he spun around and blasted back towards where he'd seen Eggman and his robots.

The fight was quick and easy, routine at this point for him. Eggman yelled insults at him, he smashed through the bots, waited for the mad scientist to fly away in his orb-like flying thing (all the while shouting more threats at him) but for once Sonic skipped the stupid taunts and banter from his own end. He needed to get back to the fox kit.

When he skidded to a halt back at the hollow, his shoulders slumped in relief to see that his tiny friend had obeyed and was still huddled in the space. He was also still gaping at him in amazement.

Sonic grinned and flashed him a thumbs-up, then his own jaw went slack when the kit exclaimed happily, "You talk!" in the sweetest little toddler voice he'd ever heard.

"You talk?!" he exclaimed back, holding out his arms in excitement. "Buddy! Why didn't you say something before?!"

"You were quiet," the kit pointed out, his voice and words choppy and hesitant, making it evident that while he could talk, it was just barely. "I ph'ot I should be quiet too."

"Buddy," Sonic chuckled. "I just thought ya couldn't talk yet. That's all."

"'Course I can talk!" the fox chirped, sounding both indignant and proud.

Sonic snickered. "'Course you can talk," he echoed back teasingly. "Well then, what's your name, kid?"

The kit made a face. "Promise not to tell anyone?" He glanced around a few times before he added, still looking sour, "It's Miles."

Sonic tilted his head. "Miles? You don't look like a Miles to me."

The fox kit's annoyance at the sound of his own name was almost startling, he clearly didn't like it at all. The idea of not liking one's own name wasn't rare, but it seemed odd for a fox as young as this one to feel such a way.

But that meant Sonic could still name him. He grinned and winked at his new little pal, remembering the name he'd been thinking of earlier. "Okay. I'll call you Tails."

Barely a second after hearing his new name, the fox kit-- Tails-- lit up like it was the most exciting thing he'd experienced. Maybe it was.

"Yes! Yes, yes!" he exclaimed happily, jumping out of the hollow to fly around in a circle. "Tails! I'm Tails!"

And Sonic merely smiled. It seemed like he had a new baby brother.

(thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! This will be posted on Wattpad soon - my user is Chaton15 there - and this has made me want to write a ton more so I'll just post it as the first of a bunch of Sonic one-shots. 🤩)

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