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atinylittlepain · 2 years ago

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We'll Be Expecting You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x pregnant!reader/pregnant!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

Baby Miller is on the way. Are they ready?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, angst, descriptions of pregnancy, descriptions of giving birth (non graphic lol)

a/n | it's here! this can be read as a standalone fic but it is really a continuation of Unexpected Expectings, it's pretty fun either way I think :) also, um, it's long, so go get a snack and sit down, yeah?

.......................

“That’s it, honey. Feels good, huh?” His lips are a smear against her temple, bare chest curled over her back as he keeps her steady with firm but gentle palms smoothing up her hips. She clenches her hands against the bathroom counter, weakly pressing back into him with each thrust.

“Joel– feel s’good, fuck– don’t stop, please–” He shushes her, bringing one of his hands down below the swell of her belly, fingers finding her clit and rubbing tight circles that have her whining and throwing her head back against his shoulder. This has become how most mornings start since she had entered her third trimester, the morning sickness that had been rocking her all but gone and a new wave of hormones that had made her impossibly needy for him. And sensitive.

“C’mon, mama. I know you can give me one more. Please– need to feel you.” The low thrum of his words is all it takes to snap the banded pleasure pulled taut at her spine as her cunt spasms around him. He’s not far behind, rutting into her one more time before his warmth is spreading through her core, his damp forehead pressing between her shoulder blades. He lays a kiss to the nape of her neck, a comfort as he pulls out and she whimpers. Turning in his hold, they meet in a sloppy kiss as she runs her fingers through his hair, brushing back his sleep-mussed waves. His palms splay over the wide arc of her belly, and he pulls away with a chuckle, looking down at his hands and shaking his head in awe.

“I think our boy’s awake, darlin.” She grins, laying her hands over the tops of his.

“You’re still gunning for a boy, huh?” His eyes dart up to hers, a crooked smile on his face. She shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything, smacking one more kiss to his lips before getting the water running for their shower.

It’s a bit of a struggle getting dressed these days. There aren’t exactly any maternity stores to go shopping at in Jackson. She’s been making do with an elastic looped through the button of her jeans and Joel’s flannels, but even those are starting to stretch at the swell of her stomach. It’s hard to believe that they’ve made it to December, that in a little under a month it’s going to be time for this baby to come, one way or another.

She’s trying to stay calm, Joel already a nervous wreck the closer they inch to her projected due date, but the truth is, she’s just as scared as he is, if not more. There were no two ways about it, it hadn’t been an easy pregnancy. Much to her initial protest, Joel had gotten her off patrol shifts early on, but she wasn’t so upset about that when the vertigo episodes started coming on daily. There had been many a time when she just had to lay down where she stood and close her eyes until the room stopped spinning, something the town doctor had assured her wasn’t uncommon in pregnancy.

It certainly freaked Joel out though. He wouldn’t move from her side if he was with her when it happened, keeping a warm palm rubbing up and down her back. What had scared him more was when she actually started to lose weight during the second trimester, her nausea getting so bad she was lucky to keep sips of water down. He had taken time off of patrol then, staying by her side and trying to coax any food into her system that she could tolerate. They learned then that baby Miller had a particular affection for mashed potatoes. But it seemed like she was out of the woods once she hit the seven month mark, at least until the delivery.

“You know, I can still tell Tommy to go with someone else.” She huffs at his words, finishing up the buttons of her (his) shirt before waddling over to him. That’s the other thing, she waddles now. She’s never waddled in her entire life. She can see the entirely amused look on his face as he watches her from where he’s standing in their bedroom. When she reaches him she smacks his chest lightly before rubbing her palms up to clasp behind his neck and tug on his hair.

“I’m glad my gimpy walk is entertaining to you, Miller. But you wouldn’t be looking so smug if you had an entire human pressing down on your pelvis with each step.” He breathes a laugh, dipping down to press a kiss to her scrunched nose.

“I know, darlin. That’s why I think I need to stay close. I just– I don’t wanna–” She leans up to cut him off with a kiss.

“You’re not gonna miss anything. We’ve got nearly a whole month before doctor Graham thinks it’ll be time. And I’m feeling the best I have in the last eight months.” He huffs, shaking his head at that as he brushes his knuckles under her jaw.

“You’re tougher than most, that’s for sure.” She snorts at his words.

“Damn right I am. Go. Do your watch with Tommy. And come back on Wednesday in one piece.” She rests a palm over the curve of her stomach. It’s obvious Joel’s fighting a smile under his furrowed expression, but he finally gives in.

“Alright, mama. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He brings his much larger hand to rest over hers on her belly. She grins.

“We’ll be expecting you, Joel.”

…

Joel heads out soon after a quick breakfast. He and Tommy do this every season, camping out at the dam for a few days to make sure everything’s in order. Nothing was ever really wrong, a few swaths of infected, maybe a stray raider or two. It’s a routine check-up, and she isn’t worried in the slightest. It’s Monday, and he should be back Wednesday morning, nothing to worry about at all.

As she’s washing up after breakfast, Ellie comes bounding into the kitchen, holding something behind her back. She turns from the sink, resting her hand on her hip and taking in Ellie’s wide-eyed expression.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I swear you get rounder everyday. Seriously, that kid is gonna bust out of you all Alien style. Like ahhhhh.” Ellie makes more groaning noises, miming an explosion around her own abdomen before dissolving into laughter. She however, is less than amused.

“I take it that’s what was playing at movie night yesterday?” The girl hums, seeming to remember what she actually came in to tell her. She holds out what she had been hiding behind her back.

“Traded for this last night. Thought it’d be nice for the baby since she’s coming in the winter and everything.” She takes the bundle of fabric from Ellie, holding it out and seeing that it’s a sweet little quilt embroidered with pink and purple flowers. The other thing about being pregnant is how emotional she’s gotten, and before she even knows it, she’s starting to sniffle as she grasps the plush blanket. Ellie’s brow furrows, coming alongside her and awkwardly patting her back.

“Shit, don’t cry. It’s nice right?” She chuckles wetly, pulling Ellie into a tight hug that elicits a small “oof” from the girl before pulling away and holding her by her arms.

“It’s so nice, Ellie bean. I love it. Baby’s gonna love it too. I’ll tuck it in the crib for when they get here.” Ellie grins.

“You know, you can just say she. Everyone except for Joel thinks it’s gonna be a girl anyways.” She laughs, shaking her head at Ellie’s smug expression.

“I know. But he wants a boy so bad, the damn fool. I’ve been waiting to finish putting together the nursery because everything people have given me is pink.” Ellie laughs at that, sidling past her to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Might be a good time to get that done. Just rip the band-aid off before he gets back, you know?” She hums, folding the blanket back up in her hands.

“You’re probably right, kid. I’ll work on it today. The pinkening.” Ellie snorts around a swig of water before glancing at the clock hanging over the stove.

“Shit, I gotta go. My shift started five minutes ago.” She squeezes the girl’s shoulder as she brushes past.

“Be safe, alright? You better be home for dinner.” Ellie smiles, nodding over her shoulder as she’s already halfway out the door.

…

She’s been keeping all the baby odds and ends she’s been given in old boxes in a closet upstairs. Most of it really is pink, and she didn’t want to dash Joel’s hopes just yet. She picks up one of the boxes with a groan, shuffling down the hall to the nursery they’ve been working on. It had been Ellie’s room when they first got here. It was obviously a teen girl’s room before, bright colors and patterns on the curtains and the rug. But Ellie was more than happy to trade the room for her own little apartment in the garage that Joel had helped her build out. She could play her music as loud as she wanted to, a point that had really sold her on the idea. The twin bed remains in the room, but now pressed against the wall across from it is a crib. Joel had worked on it all summer, collecting scrap wood, sanding it down to perfection, carefully laying the pieces together, and carving swirling patterns into the rails. She had spent many a hazy afternoon sitting in his workshop with him, ogling the push and pull of his muscles under his thin t-shirts as he worked on it.

She shakes her head of her quickly simmering thoughts, starting to pull out impossibly tiny pieces of clothing to fold in the dresser. It feels odd, this quasi-nesting she’s doing. She certainly never thought she’d get to do anything like this after, well, after. In her old life, she did want kids someday, but she had only just started college when the world fell to pieces, and suddenly that desire turned into a pipe dream that she resolved herself to let go of. How things have changed.

She spends the rest of the morning organizing the baby’s room, laying the blanket Ellie had given her in the crib as a final touch.

Pregnancies were sort of a big deal in town, and for good reason, so when folks found out that baby Miller was on the way, they started dropping off old toys and books, cloth diapers and bottles, anything that might be helpful. It was nice, if not a little stifling. She knew there was a weariness to their excitement for her, an unspoken acknowledgement of how quickly it could all go south. The further along she got, the less she liked being out around town as people seemed to get more handsy, asking more questions about how she was doing that only made her nerves worse. The only person who disliked it more than her was Joel, keeping a protective hand over her belly whenever they were out in town together, a deep scowl on his face if someone started getting too nosy. But at this late stage of pregnancy, her doctor had all but commanded her off any work detail, a free pass to stay in and away from prying eyes, though she did still like to help out at the stables most days.

Glancing at her watch she sees it’s about time for her to head over to the stables. She sighs, standing in the doorframe to take one more look at the nursery.

“Ready when you are, baby girl.”

…

“You must be distracted because I’m whooping your ass harder than usual, man.” Joel huffs at Tommy’s words, throwing his cards down on the table and sitting back in his chair. Night is quickly closing in on the plains, and the brothers have set up their usual camp in the dam control room, a small lantern lighting their games of gin. Tommy smirks at his brother.

“Joel, she’s fine. She’s got Maria and Ellie looking out for her, and doctor Graham told you herself that everything’s looking good. There’s nothing to be worried about.” Joel scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t remember you being so relaxed when Maria was this close to her due date.” He’s got him there, a beat of silence passing before Tommy shrugs.

“Okay, maybe that’s true. But looking back, there was no point to that, getting so freaked out. Because I knew that Maria was strong, that she’d get through it. And hell, that woman of yours is one of the strongest people I ever met.”

“It’s not just about strength, Tommy, not in this world. You know that. One little thing gone wrong, that’s all it’d take.” Tommy lays his cards down, leaning over the table to look Joel straight in the eye.

“Well, that’s why we’re not gonna let anything go wrong, huh? All of us, Joel. We’ve got her. We’re gonna finish this watch and then we’re gonna go home and she’s gonna be fine because we’ve got her.” Joel swallows thickly, not wanting to press the issue any further, though his mind is still swirling in worry. He nods at Tommy.

“Get some sleep. I’ll take first shift. We’ll sweep the south side tomorrow morning.” Tommy nods, getting up and squeezing Joel’s shoulder before laying out his sleeping bag and settling in.

As the quiet of the night deepens, Joel finds his mind wandering. He can’t help thinking about how different the circumstances with Sarah had been. And not just for the obvious reasons. Joel had been so young, so reckless, and when Sarah’s mom came to tell him they hadn’t been as careful as they thought they had, it turned his world upside down. What had started as a hazy one-night stand turned into a shotgun wedding, an attempt to do what his father told him was the right thing. But the only thing that brought them together was Sarah, and even that hadn’t been enough. Before his baby girl could even walk, Sarah’s mom had flown the coop, divorce papers in the mail a few months after she left. Joel didn’t even care, not when he suddenly could hold his whole life in his arms. Sarah was his whole life, from the moment she was born until the moment he lost her.

But this was different. Joel still has a hard time telling her he loves her, mostly because it feels like love isn’t a big enough word for what they have, what they’ve been through together. But, he does love her, so much it terrifies him. He’s been struggling to even wrap his mind around what he feels about this baby, their baby. Part of him fears forgetting Sarah, though he knows that’s impossible. The other part of him fears just how far he already knows he’d go for this person who isn’t even here yet.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s going to be a long night.

…

It had been a long night. She had already been having trouble sleeping, but laying down in an empty bed made it all but impossible to get any rest. It had also been a particularly uncomfortable night. Wicked cramps had kept her restless through most of the night. She wakes up the next morning to a clenching pain in her low back. She assumes it’s just because of the weird position she had ended up sleeping in, curled on her side in a jumble of pillows, and hobbles out of bed with a groan. Glancing at her watch, she’s shocked to see how late she slept, quickly cleaning herself up and padding downstairs, wincing at how the pain doesn’t seem to be dissipating.

She finds Maria and Ellie in the kitchen, both of them brightening when she walks in.

“Well, good morning. Was starting to get a little worried that the alien finally busted out of your guts.” Ellie laughs at her own joke, but Maria shoots the girl a look before smiling back at her.

“You feeling alright?” She huffs, rubbing her low back.

“Yeah, just a little tired I guess. But my back is killing me. It’s like someone is wringing my spine.” Maria hums, passing her a glass of water.

“Sounds about right. I remember I could barely walk that last month, my back had seized up so much. Are you hungry? I made oatmeal.” She scrunches her nose, shuffling over to the kitchen table.

“I’m really not, but thanks. Think I just need to sit down for a moment.” Ellie takes the seat beside her, concern splashed over her face.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” She tries to offer her a smile, but it comes out more as a grimace.

“I’m alright, Ellie bean. I just–” She cuts herself off with a gasp when a sharp pain slices hot through her pelvis. It’s only afterwards that she realizes she had dropped the glass she was holding, shards all over the floor. Maria is cleaning the mess up in a flash with a dishrag.

“I’m so sorry, Maria– I don’t know what that was, I–” “Oh, shit.” Her eyes dart back to Ellie who’s staring at her pants. She glances down, having to look twice when she sees the liquid darkening the insides of her pant legs. She feels a cool panic settling in her spine.

“No no no no no–”

“Ellie, go tell doctor Graham she needs to get here, immediately. You’re gonna have to ride out to the dam after and get Joel.” Ellie nods at Maria’s words, her mouth agape, as she jerkily stands, but stays still, staring at her. Maria brings a hand to her shoulder.

“Go, Ellie. I’ve got her.” Ellie finally looks away, dashing out the front door. She meanwhile feels like her head is full of static, the only salient thought she’s having coming out of her mouth like a prayer.

“It’s not time yet, it’s not time yet.” Maria kneels down in front of her, taking her hands and squeezing hard.

“It looks like it’s time, alright? A little early, but nothing we can’t handle. C’mon, we need to get you cleaned up and comfortable.” Maria goes to help her out of her chair but just then another shooting pain jolts through her that leaves her gasping for breath. Her voice is a cracked whine when she speaks again.

“I need him here, please, Maria. I can’t do this without him.” Maria nods, eyes wide.

“Listen, Ellie’s gonna get him back here as quick as she can. But we gotta worry about you right now, ok? Can I help you stand up?” She’s already helping her up, tucking under her arm to help her walk.

She can’t believe this is happening.

…

She can’t believe this is happening.

Ellie mounts Shimmer in a panicked haze, and when she gets out of the walls of Jackson, she rides harder than she ever has before.

She had been excited about this new addition to what she had only just started to call her family, but now, there’s only pure fear running like ice in her veins. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and it has become incredibly clear that she could lose her today. The biting cold wind is freezing her tears on her face, but all she can think about is the gasp the woman she had started to think of as her mom had let out, and the crumpled look of pain that dashed across her face. If she hustles, it’ll be a three-hour ride out and back home. A lot can happen in six hours.

…

“Can we open the windows? I feel like I’m sweating buckets.” Even though it’s the middle of winter in Wyoming, Maria nods, creaking both windows open to let the frigid air in. She won’t let it show, but she’s nervous. It’s early, and unexpected. Unexpected is never good.

Kevin had come early, back before. They had to keep him in an incubator for two weeks. She remembers only being able to touch him through plastic gloves, how it had sent her reeling, not being able to hold him close to her right away. What she would have given to have him laid on her chest the instant he was born instead of being whisked away by nurses. She just hopes that it’s not too early for her, this woman she’s come to think of as a sister.

She had certainly been wary of her, and of Joel, when they first came, grizzled partners of obvious violence that they were. But seeing the way they took care of Ellie, and of each other, it became clear to her that their violence was never purposeless, rather an unavoidable cost to their quiet love for one another. They were family now.

“Let’s get you into some fresh clothes, alright?” She nods to Maria, biting down on her clear expression of turmoil as Maria takes her into the bathroom.

“Do you think you can stand for a bit? Would a shower help?” She gets no response, a vacant stare has settled over her face. Maria kneels down to get on her level where she’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Hey. I need you to stay right here with me, alright? Ellie’s gonna get Joel back here as quick as she can. But you have to focus on this right now. I’ve got you, you’re not gonna do this alone.” She brings her focus back on Maria, tears threatening to spill over. A twinge runs through Maria’s chest at the sight of this normally tough woman on the brink of dissolving. She takes both her hands in hers.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

…

Tommy hasn’t seen his brother like this in a long time. As he patrols the perimeter of the dam, he thinks to himself that Joel probably hasn’t acted like this since before the world ended, since before he lost Sarah. While it’s clear he’s worried, it’s also clear he cares. And while he’d never admit it to him, Tommy can see that he’s excited. For the first time in a long time, Tommy thinks that Joel looks wide awake.

But, damn, had he been so close to fucking it all up. Tommy had been so upset that day, when she knocked on his door and dissolved into tears, telling him what his brother had said. She’s tough as nails, and so is Joel, but it’s clear they’re each other’s weak spot. He’s just happy Joel didn’t fuck it up any worse afterward. There was no question he knew how to do it right. It was something Tommy always admired, and aspired to, how good he was with Sarah. When he found out Maria was pregnant, his mind often wandered to those first years that Joel had Sarah, and how amazed Tommy had been at how quickly he filled his new role. A natural father. Joel had told him he was hoping for a boy, but Tommy couldn’t see his brother not raising a girl.

He keeps walking through the snow, eyes shifting, looking for anything out of place. Like usual, it’s quiet, and he reckons Joel is finding the same thing from where he’s surveying a little further south.

It’s not quiet for long, however, his ears pricking to the sound of what he thinks are galloping hooves. He stills, cocking his gun, eyes darting around him, settling on the lone rider bounding toward him. He fixes his sight in the scope of his rifle, letting out a low curse when he can see that it’s Ellie.

This can’t be good.

…

“You’re about six centimeters dilated. We’re getting there, my dear.” She lets out a low groan as the next contraction washes over her.

“Jesus, fuck.” Doctor Graham checks her watch.

“Five minutes apart. And it ain’t jesus, honey. That’s all you.” Maria snorts at that, helping her get up from her bed so she can start pacing again. It’s the only thing that’s been taking her mind off the contractions. She glances at doctor Graham who has sat down in the armchair to take more notes.

“Doctor? How much longer do you think until it’s time to– it’s time–” She sets down her notepad, smiling softly at her.

“Well, I’d say anywhere from two to four hours until you’re ready to push. But then that’s gonna be a whole new rodeo. And I’ve told you a hundred times already to just call me Suze.” She nods, trying to muster a smile as she continues to pace the rug, Maria hovering alongside her. She glances at her, a hopeful lift to her brow.

“Joel will be back by then, right? He’ll be back in time?” Maria sighs, squeezing her arm.

“I just don’t know. But I hope so.” She doesn’t have time to frown at her words, not when a new contraction is making her keel over where she stands.

“Three minutes apart that time. Certainly getting closer. Baby’s gonna be here soon.”

…

Joel feels like he’s drowning as they hurry to mount up and get home. When Tommy and Ellie had come bounding towards him, he didn’t believe it at first, had shouted at Ellie that it was impossible, it was too early.

“Well you’re not the one who saw her fucking water break, old man!” That had shut him up quick. As they strap their packs to their horses, it feels like tiny fissures are splitting through his heart, and each breath is threatening to send him crumbling to pieces. He can’t think about it, if he does he’ll get paralyzed by terror, but all he wants is to scream because she needs him and he isn’t there.

He’s broken out of his haze by the stark sound of guns cocking.

They jerk around in a flash, he and Tommy holding up their rifles, Ellie whipping out a knife. Four men come prowling out of the treeline, the mouths of their guns facing them down. Raiders no doubt. Joel is just about ready to destroy them with his bare hands if he has to, but he takes a beat, trying to gather his fracturing thoughts. One of the men finally speaks.

“You folks better drop your weapons if you know what’s good for you.” No one moves, Joel quickly glancing at Tommy.

“I said drop your fucking weapons!” Here’s what Joel knows in that moment. He knows that Ellie still carries a gun tucked in the back of her belt, even though he keeps telling her not to. He knows Tommy’s got a side piece tucked under his jacket, as well as a hunting knife strapped to his leg. And he knows that he himself has enough unadulterated rage in his body right now to rip this man’s head clean off his shoulders.

He glances at Tommy and Ellie again, the slightest nod, and they all drop their weapons, palms up. The men step closer, eyeing the horses.

“Where are you folks from?” It’s Tommy who responds.

“Nowhere, we’re just passing through.” The man sneers at him.

“Oh yeah? Those horses look pretty good for you to be just passing through.” Ellie butts in.

“We–we stole them! From an old couple a few miles north.” The men keep inching up on them. Joel just needs them to get a little closer. The man who seems to be the leader sizes Joel up.

“Well, then I guess it’s no hard feelings if we take them off your hands, huh?” It’s almost imperceptible, the look he shoots at Tommy and Ellie, a silent understanding that’s arisen after enough standoffs together. Joel’s on the man before he can even get his finger on the trigger.

He can hear gunshots ringing out, catching the sight of two of the men falling in his periphery, but he’s too zeroed in on the man he’s throttling into the ground to check if it had been Tommy or Ellie who got them. He keeps his hand pinning the gasping man down by his throat, reaching back to draw his knife out.

“Real sorry about this, but the missus is expecting me.”

…

She thinks briefly of the time she got shot in the thigh. Back when it was her, Joel, and Tess, and their smuggling business in the Boston QZ. Tess had to pluck the bullet out of where it had lodged in the muscle of her thigh, digging a pair of tweezers into the wound. She thinks that this hurts way more than that.

Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, doesn’t even sound human, when she lets out a low, guttural scream, pressing her head back into the pillows, her chest heaving under her sweat-soaked tank top. Doctor Graham - Suze - is kneeling on the end of the bed between her spread legs. Maria is holding her hand tight alongside the bed.

“Nine centimeters. We’re gonna have you pushing in the next hour, my dear.” She sobs, shaking her head.

“No, we can’t– we can’t yet– please– we have to wait–” Maria shushes her, bringing a damp cloth to her forehead.

“Listen, Joel’s gonna get here when he gets here– if we try to wait it could hurt you or baby. You have to do this, Joel or no Joel.” Maria squeezes her hand, offering her sips of water that she refuses. She lets out a humorless laugh, bracing for another contraction.

“I swear to god if he doesn’t get here in time, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

…

Ellie’s never seen Joel move so fast, and the second he’s mounted, he’s gone, damn near impossible to catch up with in the whipping snow. She and Tommy do their best to stay on his tail, but he quickly becomes a speck in the distance as they all ride home.

…

She’s not sure how long she’s been pushing now, but it feels like an eternity. The only thing keeping her a sliver sane is Maria guiding her through each push, breathing with her.

“We’re crowning, my dear. You’re doing so great, honey. Let’s get ready for another strong push.” Her eyes dart between Suze who’s kneeling between her legs and Maria, wild panic creeping up her throat. Maria takes both her hands, holding her gaze firm and steady.

“I’m here with you. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” Suze squeezes her knee.

“I’m gonna count you down, my dear, and then I want another beautiful push just like you��ve been doing. Three– two–”

She lets out a blood-curdling scream on one.

…

“Open the fucking gates!” Joel glances over his shoulder, barely making out Tommy waving his red bandana in the air and hollering into the wind. He turns back, hearing the harsh groan of the wall opening. He’s coming in hot, hotter than he should. Normally people have to dismount before they pass through. But nothing about this is normal.

He whips through the narrow opening, galloping right down the main drag of town, people scrambling in shock to get out of his way.

When he reaches their home, he sees a whole cluster of people hanging on the railings of the porch, heads craned up towards the open windows on the second floor. He brings his horse to a hard, skittering stop, the crowd whipping around to look at him with agape expressions. He dismounts, but is stuck where he stands when a preening scream comes resounding from the windows. His heart finally shatters. He rushes up to the front door before thinking twice and shouting over his shoulder at the bystanders.

“Don’t you people have anything better to do? Get!” He barely hears their shocked gasps as he slips inside and slams the door behind him.

He’s still got his rifle strapped around him as he bounds up the stairs two at a time. He shoulders into the bedroom right as she’s letting out another ragged scream. The sight of her takes his breath away, her crumpled expression as she finishes pushing, her sweat-damp hair stuck to her face. Suze is quick to fix him with a hard look before he gets any closer.

“Oh, absolutely not, mister. You’re not getting anywhere near her until you lose the gun and clean off whoever’s blood that is.”

…

Her eyes crack open after her last push and she’s shocked to see him standing there.

“Joel?” He yanks his rifle off his shoulder, dropping it outside the bedroom door. She can see blood spattered across his jacket and face.

“I’m right here, baby.” He quickly shucks off his jacket and boots, hustling over to the bathroom. She cranes her neck and can just see him harshly scrubbing at his arms and face before he hurries back into the bedroom, Maria moving out of the way to let him kneel down alongside the bed. She narrows her eyes at him as he takes her hand.

“F-f-fuck you. I’ve been trying– trying to wait for you all day. Do you know how fucking hard that’s been?” His face goes slack at her harsh words, but before he can respond a contraction hits and she has to push, curling up over her stomach and bearing down hard as Suze counts her through it. She squeezes his hand tight, slumping back in a mess of heaving breath when she’s done. He takes her face in his hands, holding her gaze steady.

“Are you seriously mad at me right now? I’ve been trying to get back to you all goddamn day! You were the one that told me to go, you mad woman!” She huffs, getting ready to reply but Suze cuts her off.

“Hey! You two! Cut the bullshit so we can get this baby out, huh? A few more strong pushes is all it’s gonna take.” Her focus immediately falls back to the pain she’s in, and she grips onto both of Joel’s wrists, whimpering his name.

“I’ve got you, mama. Tell me what you need. What can I do, baby?”

“Want you closer, please– n-n-need you with me, closer.” He shushes her, letting go of her face and coaxing her to sit up a bit as he gracelessly crawls onto the bed to slide behind her. His legs splay out, framing her bent knees, and she rests back into his chest, her head laying back on his shoulder. For a moment, relief floods through her body as he brings a forearm to wrap over her sternum, hand squeezing her opposite shoulder as he presses kisses into her damp hair.

Suze settles back into position between her legs, Maria now standing alongside the bed with towels and scissors ready. Suze gives her a firm nod.

“Alright, my dear. I’m gonna count you down and you give me another strong push.” She brings her hands to curl over Joel’s forearm bracing, herself for another lick of pain, while he lowly murmurs in her ear.

“I’m here with you, baby. You’ve got this. I’m right here.”

…

“Three– two– one.” The scream she lets out sends a jagged shiver down Joel’s spine and he finds himself grinding his teeth as she bears down, her nails digging hard into his arm. He hadn’t been there for Sarah’s birth, not really, she was a c-section. This is certainly different.

She slumps back in his hold, her head lolling on his chest as she looks up at him through teary eyes.

“I can’t– I can’t do anymore, Joel– please.” He squeezes her shoulder, bringing his other hand to tangle with one of hers.

“You can, baby– I know you can– strongest person I know, huh? You’re so close, baby, just a little bit more.” She lets out a broken sob and Joel hates that he can’t do more for her, helplessly pressing a kiss to her forehead and continuing to murmur to her. Suze clears her throat.

“I think this next one is gonna do it. But you gotta make it a good one, my dear. Can you do that for me?” She huffs in his hold, shuddering around another sob before sitting up a little more against his chest. When she looks up at him, there’s steel in her eyes and Joel realizes that those weren’t just comforting words he told her, she really is the strongest person he’s ever met. She looks back at Suze and gives her a quick nod.

“Count me down. I’m ready.”

…

It’s a searing pain and then the sweetest relief she’s ever felt. The room is awash with the sound of cries and it makes her head go dizzy that it’s coming from her baby. Suze snips the umbilical cord, and Maria wraps the squirming thing up in towels before giving her a bright smile.

“It’s a girl.” What she wasn’t expecting was the breathy laugh Joel lets out over her shoulder at that, his words dripping in awe.

“It’s a girl. Our girl.”

Maria carefully walks to the side of the bed and lays her on her chest. It’s the most natural feeling thing in the world as she cups her impossibly small head, a tiny palm splaying like a star over her sternum. Joel brings a tentative palm over their girl’s little back. She glances back at him, tears settling in the creases of his smile.

“You did it, darlin. Did so good for her– you’re amazing.” She breathes out a wet laugh.

“I had help.” Joel grins, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Just a little. But that was all you.” She snorts, looking back down on her girl whose cries have settled into low coos before glancing back at Joel.

“You helped.” That makes him laugh, gaze focusing back on their girl.

“Just a little. Christ– know I wouldn’t shut up about wanting a boy– but she’s perfect.” She smiles, settling back against his chest and watching as her eyes open for the first time, wide and wild as she seems to take in her and Joel. He lets out a low sigh.

“Hey, baby girl. M’sorry I almost missed you. Never gonna happen again, huh? Think your mama would kill me first.” She scoffs, jostling back against him as he chuckles. He rests his chin on her shoulder, fully enrapt with their girl as she starts to look around, tiny fingers flexing against her chest.

“What’s her name, darlin?” She bites her lip, craning her neck to look back at him.

“I was thinking Olivia Sarah Miller. What do you think?” She sees his features soften even more, a sweet sadness threading into his joy. He nods.

“I think that sounds perfect for our girl. I love you, darlin. Love you both so much.” His voice is warbly, but she’s still never heard him sound so sure of something. She offers him the same certainty in her own voice.

“I love you too, Joel. And our little family.”

The sound of stomping boots sounds through the house, and Ellie comes blustering into the room, cheeks red and puffing hard breaths.

“Oh thank fuck. Is it– are you– are you ok?” Maria and Suze both chuckle from where they’re cleaning up Suze’s supplies. She smiles at Ellie, lightly nodding, but it’s Joel who speaks.

“They’re both alright, kid. Your sister’s a fighter, just like her mama.” As if on cue, Olivia lets out a small cry, her tiny fist pressing into her chest. Ellie laughs in disbelief.

A little family indeed.

…

Joel’s back is killing him. The first few weeks have been a bit touch and go with Libby coming so early, and they’ve been sleeping in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in the nursery, hardly leaving the room, making sure she’s warm and fed at all times. So Joel’s back is killing him, but he doesn’t care at all, not when every time he leans over the crib he’s met with the sweet sight of their girl, their little amalgamation of all their best parts.

“Well, she’s looking good, very healthy, nice strong lungs, putting on weight just like we want her to. I’d say you’ve got a tough one on your hands.” His shoulders slacken in relief at Suze’s words as she starts packing up her bag of medical tools. Libby begins to fuss in her crib and her mama is quick to pick her up, murmuring to her and bouncing her lightly before turning her attention back to the doctor.

“So would you say we’re in the clear?” He can see the worry creased across her face as she asks the question to Suze. He brings his arm around her shoulders, squeezing lightly as he gazes down at their girl. Suze grins.

“While anything’s possible, my professional opinion is that Miss Olivia here is going to do just fine. Although right now I’d say she’s looking a little hungry, so I’ll get out of your hair.” Suze slings her bag over her shoulder, nodding to them both before letting herself out.

She’s already moving to sit in the rocking chair that had been a gift from Tommy and Maria. Joel would never admit it, but he’s been getting worked up every time he gets to see her feed their girl. A softness takes over her that’s rare in this world, all hushed murmurings as Libby’s hand splays over the swell of her breast, content gasps coming from their girl as she starts to suckle. Joel can’t help but hover whenever he gets the chance, leaning against the back of the chair and dropping a kiss to her temple every now and again, sharing little smiles between watching their girl.

“Ellie told me she thinks you’re getting soft, Miller. Said she can’t believe you’ve opted out of patrol shifts to work the stables.” Joel huffs, standing up straight to stretch his aching back.

“Just got more important things closer to home I guess. But I ain’t getting soft, no ma’am.” She hums at that, craning her neck to peer at him.

“Oh really? It wasn’t you I heard up here yesterday afternoon singing some sweet little song to Libby?” He balks at that, trying to stifle a grin as he shakes his head. He had spent some time with their girl yesterday afternoon while she caught up on sleep on the couch downstairs, and maybe he had started humming tunes to her, watching her eyes widen with the sound of his voice like magic.

“Nah, couldn’t have been me. Think you’re hearing things, darlin. All them hormones are messing with you.” She rolls her eyes at that, righting her shirt before standing with Libby in her arms. She sways slightly side to side, looking at him over the top of Libby’s head.

“I like you soft, Joel. It’s a good look on you. At least when you want to be.” There’s such adoration in her eyes as she looks at him that he can’t help the blush creeping up his neck.

“Only for my girls. Everyone else can fuck off.” She laughs hard at that, shushing Libby when she starts to fuss at the sound. He shuffles over to her, coaxing their girl out of her arms and into his. He had thought it’d feel awkward, holding her for the first time, but it all came back to him in a flash, and now nothing felt quite as right as when he had her little body resting in his arms. She steps back, taking in the sight of him and humming.

“Don’t let Ellie see you like this, she’s gonna think you’ve gone full teddy bear.” He only grumbles a little, too focused on watching their girl’s wide eyes peering around. If being soft means he gets moments like this, he’ll take all of Ellie’s heckling, no complaints at all.

…

“So what’d the doctor say? Everything looking good?” “Kid, if you don’t chew first you’re gonna choke with the way you’re talking. Just slow down a little, huh?” Ellie huffs at Joel, swallowing around her bite of dinner before looking at her expectantly. She chuckles lightly at the girl’s eager expression.

“She said Libby’s doing great, told us that she’s a tough one.” Ellie grins, startling Joel when she slaps him on the back.

“Well seeing as she came from you two hardasses I’d sure hope she’s tough– I say that with love, of course.” Joel grumbles, side-eyeing her and muttering “of course.” She lays her hand over Ellie’s from across the table.

“Ellie, I never really thanked you for what you did that day, riding out like that. You don’t know how much that meant to me.” Suddenly shy, Ellie offers her a soft smile, shrugging.

“Couldn’t let the old man miss all the fun, right? I’d do it again in an instant, just so you know. Seeing as I– like– love you guys– I guess.” She glances at Joel who’s obviously trying to hold back a grin. She squeezes Ellie’s hand.

“We love you too, Ellie bean. Me, the old man, and your little sister.” Ellie’s smile brightens into a grin at that. Joel grumbles again.

“Can y’all stop calling me that? Not even that old, goddamn.” They share a laugh at his furrowed look. As they finish dinner, she can’t help but sit back and take in the sight of this strange family they’ve created. Joel and Ellie bickering about training the new horses for the spring, Libby dozing in her bassinet alongside the table. It’s something she could have never imagined, but she knows it’s perfect. It’s family.

…

“Suze said we really don’t need to be sleeping in there with her now. It’ll be ok, we’re like ten feet further away and a whole lot less cramped.” Joel seems unsure about what she says, glancing back at the crib where they just laid their sleepy girl down. She huffs, tugging on his shirt collar to pull him along across the hall to their bedroom.

“Joel, it’s fine. She’s gonna be crying in a few hours and we’ll both end up back in there anyways. Why don’t we try to get some sleep not as a human pretzel beforehand, huh?” He sighs, but acquiesces to her coaxing, following her into the bathroom as they both start getting ready for bed.

It’s silly, but she can’t stop watching the muscles in his forearm jumping as he brushes his teeth, her thoughts going a bit fuzzy and warm. Sex has been the last thing on her mind these last few weeks, and Suze had told her that was normal with all the hormonal shifts. But with six weeks in the rearview mirror of absolutely nothing, she’s getting hot under the collar just looking at his goddamn arms. She clears her throat, gripping the edge of the sink as she looks at him through the mirror.

“You know, Suze told me something else during my check-up today.” Joel hums, wiping toothpaste off his mouth as he turns to look at her.

“Yeah, she, uh, gave me the go ahead for the other kind of human pretzels.” She’s mortified at her horrible joke the moment it leaves her mouth, but Joel lets out a laugh, throwing his head back and crinkling his eyes shut. She huffs, the floor suddenly becoming very interesting as he tries to recompose himself. When he sees her crestfallen expression, he immediately dips down, trying to catch her gaze while stifling his laughter.

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. Just– please– never use the phrase human pretzel again.” He can barely get the words out as he dissolves into another laugh. She rolls her eyes, turning to walk away from him but he’s quick to pull her in until her back is snug against his chest, his arms wrapping around her as he dips his chin down onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry– I’m done, I swear. So, uh, are you telling me you want to?” She scoffs, trying to get out of his hold but he just squeezes her tighter.

“Well, I did. But then somebody laughed at me.” He shushes her, pressing kisses into the side of her neck that trail up her jaw all the way to her temple.

“C’mon, mama. Don’t be like that, huh? Been missing you so bad.” She’s already melting in his grasp at the way he’s nuzzling the slope of her neck, letting his lips drag over her skin. She lets out a breathy sigh of his name and can feel the way his mouth curls into a grin.

“Now that’s more like it, darlin.” She turns in his hold, meeting him in a hard kiss. They both groan into each other’s mouths, practically devouring each other in a tangle of tongues and bumping teeth. Only coming up for quick gasps of air, they shuffle back into the bedroom, hands roaming and wandering. Joel’s quick to lose his shirt with a harsh tug of it over his head and she immediately dips to smear kisses along his chest, fingernails grazing down his front. He tucks his fingers under her chin to bring her back up for a kiss, licking into her mouth hotly. But she stills in his hold when his fingers start working at the buttons of her flannel.

“Wanna see you– been missing just looking at you.” His words are murmured hotly into her neck, so he doesn’t catch the crumpled look that’s settled over her face.

She knows it’s stupid, but she’s been hiding from Joel over the last few weeks. It seems like her body looks a little different with each day, and while he had practically worshiped her pregnant body, this wasn’t that, and it certainly wasn’t what she looked like before. She steps back a bit, gripping his wrists to keep him from getting any further with her buttons. He looks at her with total confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She sighs, tucking her chin into her chest, too embarrassed to meet his questioning gaze.

“I just– it’s different– I’m different– don’t want you to be disappointed.” A heavy silence falls between them. She’s shocked when it’s broken by Joel laughing, quickly whipping her head up to see him looking at her like she’s gone mad. She huffs.

“I swear to god, Joel Miller, if you laugh at me one more time, I’m gonna–” he’s quick to cut her off, grabbing her hands and pulling her back towards him.

“Hey, hey, hey– I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at that ridiculous shit you said. I don’t wanna hear that kinda talk from you ever again, huh? You– you’re amazing. I could never be disappointed when I look at you, darlin. You wanna know why?” She glances at him, seeing that he’s grinning.

“Because, when I look at you, I see the woman who was batshit crazy enough to love me.” She snorts at that, but he’s not done.

“When I look at you, I see the woman who gave me life back. Who gave me family. You’re everything, darlin. When I look at you, I see everything.” Tears run down her cheeks as she laughs wetly at his words.

“Ellie’s right, you have gone soft.” He huffs around his grin, shaking his head as he dips down to wrap her up in a deep kiss, bringing his palms to cup her jaw as he all but takes her breath away. When he pulls away, it’s only slightly, their lips lightly brushing as he murmurs to her.

“Will you let me see you, darlin? Please?” She holds his gaze, nodding only slightly, but it’s enough to get a broad smile out of him as he lays one more kiss to her lips before letting his hands wander back down to the buttons of her shirt.

She holds her breath the whole time, only exhaling when he slips the shirt down her shoulders. When she finally glances at his face, all she sees there is awe as he lets his fingers ghost up her hips, her sides, over the tops of her bare breasts.

“So fucking beautiful. Just wanna look at you, huh? Never wanna stop looking at you.” Before the hard blush creeps any further up her neck, she pulls him in for another kiss, her mind swimming in the feeling of bare skin pressed to bare skin. Joel starts to shuffle them back toward the bed until the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she’s splaying back with a soft “oof” as he hovers over her.

Joel’s mouth starts to wander, trailing down her neck, along her collarbone. She can’t help but preen when he laves his tongue over the swell of her breast, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin there before doing the same to the other side. He keeps meandering lower and lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nips in his wake until he’s nudging his nose along the waistband of her pants. She huffs under his teasing ministrations and he looks up at her deep pout with a smug grin.

“Patience, darlin. Just trying to love on you a little, huh? Been a while.” She cards her fingers through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

“It has been a while– so quit fucking teasing already.” He snorts at that, murmuring into her skin how she’s “so bossy, goddamn” but he seems to comply with her plea, fingers working quickly to undo her pants and slide them off her legs along with her panties.

He kneels at the foot of the bed between her legs, eyes roaming over her completely bare figure, lips parted and eyes blown wide. She feels like she could melt he’s looking at her so hard. He brings his palms to her calves, dipping down to nose along the inside of one leg, trailing up and up and up until his breath is just grazing where she needs him most. But he’s gone in an instant, and she actually whines as he starts to mouth down the soft skin of her other thigh. He shushes her, his low murmuring rasp thrumming through her skin.

“So beautiful. My beautiful woman. I’ll give you what you need, darlin.” With that, he skims back to the apex of her thighs, and she shivers as he coaxes her legs over his shoulders, spreading her out for him as he lays between her thighs. No more teasing, he licks a broad stripe through her folds that makes her press her head back hard into the pillows. He works her over like a man starved, fingers flexing into the softness of her thighs as he licks into her, smearing her wetness up to her clit and laving over the nerves there. She lets her fingers drag through his hair, tugging lightly, his low groans sending jolts through her core. A ragged moan draws through her chest when he pulls away just slightly to spit on her cunt, quickly chasing the slick with his tongue and coaxing out more gasps from her.

“Fuck, Joel– feel so good, please– I need– I need–” she can’t even get it out, she’s so far gone, but he knows her well enough to understand what she wants, slipping two of his fingers inside her and finding a steady rhythm as he mouths at her clit.

“Want you to come for me. Just like this. C’mon, darlin, lemme see you.” The combination of his words and his wide eyes gazing up at her send her falling right over the edge of pleasure. She comes with a harsh gasp of his name, fluttering around his fingers as he works her through it.

He pulls away, shifting up the bed until he’s caging in her heaving body, stealing messy kisses tinged with the taste of her. She brings her trembling hands to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt until he gets the hint, sitting back to quickly shuck his pants down his legs. His cock is hot and stiff where it rests against the plush of her thigh, she can practically feel him throbbing.

“Joel, need you so bad. Want you– wanna feel you–” he quiets her murmurs with another kiss before fisting himself and sliding the head of his cock through her folds, hissing at the contact. She whimpers when he starts to press into her and he immediately stills, worried eyes darting to hers. She cups his face in her palm, stroking his jaw reassuringly.

“It’s ok– just need it gentle, baby.” He hums, turning to press a kiss to the middle of her palm.

“I’ve got you, darlin. Wanna make you feel good.” He’s slow and careful as he rocks into her, laying kisses on her lips with each little gasp she lets out as he shifts deeper inside of her. When their hips finally meet, they both let out ragged sighs, and he presses his forehead to the top of her sternum, panting hard into her skin.

“Fuck, I missed you– I’m not gonna last long, darlin– feels too good– always so good for me.” She grazes her nails down his back, letting out a sigh of his name.

“Need you to move, Joel– please, baby– just wanna feel you–” he presses a kiss to the dip between her collar bones before pulling out, languidly rolling his hips back into hers in a way that has them both gasping. She crooks her leg up along his hip, spreading herself open for him to press deeper as he finds a steady rhythm of push and pull. They move well together, just like they always have, her hips canting up into his with each thrust as they swallow each other’s sighs and moans in a mess of kisses. Joel brings one of his hands down to the softness of her stomach, fingers circling her clit.

“Will you come for me, darlin? Fuck– please, honey– need to feel you.” It doesn’t take much more for her to dissolve around him, digging her nails into the sliding muscles of his back as he fucks her through it. She hisses when he pulls out, watching dazed as he strokes himself over her before painting his spend across her heaving stomach. Joel flops down beside her as they both catch their racing heartbeats. She turns her head to look at him, a grin crooking across her face.

“Still got it, huh, old man?” He huffs out a laugh, turning onto his side to draw her in for a kiss.

“Still got it, mama.”

After getting cleaned up, they may have only gotten an hour of sleep before their girl woke them both up with a cry, but it had certainly been worth it.

#joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #unexpected expectings

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askponyinuyasha · 3 months ago

Note

I think that stallion likes you~ hehe

@drakowulf36579: I think that stallion likes you~ Heheh

Inuyasha: You think who what? Huh?

Inuyasha: Where?!

Inuyasha: Oh...

Inuyasha: Nah. You don't know what you're talking about. He doesn't even act like he likes me.

Drako: Oh? And how would that be?

Inuyasha: Well... you know...

[flashback] Jakotsu: I'll slice you up piece by little piece. Once I get going, even smart-mouths like you quickly become submissive. And in the end you'll be on your knees crying and begging me. You'll cry 'Jakotsu just hold me in your arms for a while please'. [end flashback]

Inuyasha: Sadistically murderous?

cue laugh track

(High-res transparent PNGs below the cut)

Sorry the long hiatus! I've been struggling with a bad depression flare-up and it's been a struggle to do the things I like, but I made an effort to drag myself out of the pits this weekend.

I've already got a couple PNGs of Drako floating around I keep re-using so I'm not uploading every single face variant I made for this little comic. I promise I'm not trying to play favorites with Drako, I just love drama and he's very good at stirring it up.

Regarding that drama, my boy is just a bit ignorant, seeing as how his only interactions with mlm have been Jakotsu and Suzaku, both of whom were effeminate, deranged, predatory sadists. Thanks, Rumiko. Maybe someone can open his eyes up a little? Or maybe that someone will just be offended that Inuyasha doesn't see him as sadistically murderous enough.

@askponydei is eternally cute. No notes. Love to draw him.

I also really enjoyed drawing Jakotsu. I re-watched the whole Band of Seven arc, taking notes on all the crazy stuff he said to Inuyasha to pick out just the perfect line for the flashback. Thanks episode 119. I'm also especially proud of his cutie mark. It's a snake making a heart shape because he's supposed to represent the deadly sin of lust and his name means "snake skill" and his sword is supposed to mimic the movements of a snake. I even color-picked the teal from the leaf patterns on his yukata!

I'm almost positive I've said at least one word in the text that will get this post silently erased from the tags, so shares are appreciated.

#mlp ask blog #mlp #inuyasha #deidara #jakotsu #crossover #band of seven #naruto #au #mlp au #ask blog #answer #askponydei #drakowulf36579 #cartoon blood #jakotsu being a little freak #he's so babygirl

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venear-tmblr · 1 year ago

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…. so i’ve had an idea

C!Ven FableSMP In-Character Smash or Pass

Today we reject canon and embrace non-canom ships like it’s the 2000’s-10’s again. Let us begin heheheh (also im sticking to masc leaning characters because c!Ven likes 🅱️oys.)

Aax

5/10: Pass

I don’t think they’d be bad for each other, I just think Ven would feel out of his depth yk? Their communication type wouldn’t clash badly, they’d both be able to argue without killing one another, but they just dont click?

I just think Ven would be intimidated? and that should be a dealbreaker in any relationship.

Caspian

6/10: Smash

Caspian would be the cool ex that you still see sometimes in random places, and you stop for 10-15 min to see how he’s doing, before you both leave and forget about each other again.

Cas would keep Ven’s bossy streak in check, and they’d sort out their problems together well. They have aligning interests in knowledge and writing, and overall they’d work.

they actually seem like the kind of couple to fall out of love with each other? which is very sad to me ;-;

They’d care about each other a lot i think, in a Scott’s Street by Phoebe Bridgers kinda way

Centross

7/10: Smash

… there’s only room for one self-sacrificing idiot in this relationship.

Opposite of Rae; Centross is Ven’s type, personality-wise. Also Centross does the love-bickering thing that Ven and Feng would do. They communicate well, they’d argue healthily, over all they’d be pretty good tbh. The sleep schedule between the two of them would be bad though, Ven would forget to stop work and Centross would do the same, they’d forget to check in with each other.

Rae

3/10: Pass (edit, was 2/10 but i raised it by 1 for Zenni the beloved)

you already know what i’m gonna say about these goobers. they’re terrible for each other

the interesting thing to me; there’s only two reasons for Ven to date Rae. 1) they’re young, and social norms say you should date someone similar to you. So both Vena and Rae would go “he likes what i like” and call it a day. OR 2) Rae would be a rebound for Ven. neither of which can happen in canon. (i love the band au blorbos <3)

Seven

4/10: Pass

they wouldn’t be bad, Ven just wouldn’t know how to approach Seven? Seven has so much going in, and Ven would need to know every detail about Seven’s past in order to feel comfortable in the relationship. Seven can’t really give that, so the relationship is over before it’s begun.

Ulysses

7/10: Smash

Similar to Caspian, they’d get along, they’d be good exes. Ven would learn a lot academically from Ulysses.

bonus point because this fish sounds aussie and that is important to me ok

Will

4/10: Pass

Based on the emotional reactions seen in the spy arc of S2, I don’t think these two would get along. i actually think Ven would get on Will’s nerves in close proximity, if he were to open up and let Will in emotionally. Not that it’d be Will’s fault, they just clash. They would have common interests though, so all wouldn’t be lost.

Will would speak his mind, whilst Ven clams up and avoids conflict, but they’d get around to communicating eventually. (so they’re def not the worst pairing on this list.)

Wolf

…9/10: Smash

ok hear me out, you haven’t seen the half of it in canon yet, but these two work well. They have a lot in common (that i can’t share yet)

they argue so well, maybe even better than Feng and Ven did. Where Feng would speak up with Ven, Wolf sits and listens and waits.

Wolf is Ven’s type physically,tall with long hair and broad shoulders, and comes close to his type in personality.

nodders they should kiss

…So in conclusion; Let Ven join Wolftross, its time for Wolventross throuple takover

#fable smp #c!ven #raeven #centross #fable smp aax #ghostyjpg #willowmvp #wiindsock #mcyt

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mifustudy · 18 days ago

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Lisa Miller vs. The Screen

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World is a six-volume graphic novel series that was published in 2004 by Canadian cartoonist Bryan Lee O’Malley. Through the growing fan base surrounding the novels, its story was adapted into four types of media, the most notable being the movie. The franchise boomed in popularity since its 2010 motion-picture adaptation, proving that as the years go by, most of the series' fans come from the hour-and-fifty-two-minute-long self-described epic. Gradually becoming a staple in pop culture, it was difficult to miss in online spaces, but one component of the story slipped through the cracks: a character named Lisa Miller. Completely scrapped from the movie script, fans of the Scott Pilgrim universe who are unfamiliar with the original graphic novel series will be pleasantly surprised if they look back on the source material; Lisa is a far richer character than the other adaptations fail to depict. She is more than a mislabeled "manic pixie dream girl" and contributes to the plot's progression in a major way.

Zeroing in on the well-known film adaptation, entire storylines were scrapped from the script, one of which follows Lisa closely. Introduced in Volume 2 and then properly utilized in Volume 4, she is established as an old friend of our protagonist, Scott Pilgrim. Meeting in high school, Lisa and Scott became fast friends then created a band together with drummer Kim Pine called “Sonic & Knuckles.” This flashback that lasts about 34 pages gives the audience a peek into how these characters came to know each other while Volume 4 builds on Lisa’s motives and feelings towards Scott.

Lisa, abruptly entering Scott’s life after around a decade, strains his relationship with his current girlfriend, Ramona Flowers, leading her to believe he is cheating. The couple quarrels on and off throughout the book as Lisa looms on the sidelines. The two have a big fight, leading to Scott getting kicked out of the apartment for the night. Stuck with nowhere else to turn, he calls Lisa, and she lets him crash at her place. There seems like she has an ulterior motive; she dressed suggestively, subtly moving closer to our unassuming protagonist within each panel, causing an alarming amount of tension. Scott comes to his senses and proclaims his love for Ramona to Lisa, rejecting any and all advances and closing the door on her one-sided infatuation. The three of them move on from this, Scott and Ramona remaining a couple and Lisa leaving for California to pursue an acting career.

This (very) brief summary of her arc fails to capture the depth of Lisa’s character. Discussing her Volume 4 actions further shows that this character propels our two protagonists, Scott and Ramona, through their own respective character arcs. Giving our main characters more than their regular relationship—as regular as “defeating seven evil exes” can be—creates a refreshing plotline within an episodic graphic novel series while simultaneously developing the audience’s understanding of the two. Illustrating a clearer image of Scott and Ramona’s relationship beyond the rose-colored glasses applied to the audience in the first couple of volumes is beneficial for the development needed to maintain undivided attention throughout the story.

Let’s discuss how Lisa's presence affects Scott Pilgrim’s character arc. Her short-lived appearance in Volume 2 set the stage for Volume 4, with most of the reason Scott decides to reconnect coming from nostalgia. Bringing Lisa around the group shortly after their reunion, this nostalgia-driven get-together expanded their individual connection, branching out into her connecting with everyone else; the only person Scott worries about is Ramona, his girlfriend. The undeniable discomfort present on his face as the two women interact feels uncalled for—considering Scott has not done anything inherently wrong—as he remains on edge the entire time they interact.

The coup de grâce of it all is when Scott stays at Lisa’s place the night after his big fight with Ramona. She finally comes clean about how she has been acting since they have reconnected; her dressing “all tarted up” specifically for Scott because he “couldn’t take [his] eyes off [her].” She felt awful about her actions, but she kept going anyway. When Scott tells her why he is there, he is greeted with a romantic advance. The panels fade to black and open back up to the next morning. Lisa filled Scott in on what happened: he chose Ramona over her—the panel explains it far better than I could summarize. Lisa plays a significant role in Scott's character arc, demonstrating how much he has matured and improved his relationship skills, realizing he feels genuine love for Ramona and should confess through Lisa’s actions.

Ramona’s growth is not as extreme as Scott’s but still offers further characterization absent in the film adaptation. Like Lisa, the two women have little to no character development; Ramona at least stars in the movie while Lisa lands a namedrop. The blonde’s introduction back into Scott’s life damages Ramona’s trust in their relationship, partly due to the fact she had not once heard of her before this, that the two have been spending an awful lot of time together, and that he is too dense to realize the subtle advances Lisa had been making the entire time. Creating friction and hostility between the couple generates a peek into Ramona’s mind, an infrequent occurrence throughout the six volumes. The two women share multiple “manic pixie dream girl” attributes—this is a complicated movie trope to dissect here, but a simplified definition can suffice. The MPDG is a female character portrayed as eccentric and desirable used only to push the plot in a film forward. They have no other character traits besides that, they are sort of like props. Lisa falls into this category and Ramona falls here only in the context of the film; Lisa’s existence prevents Ramona’s mischaracterization in the movie from happening within the books, acting as a character foil or “Evil Ex” for her in a way.

Winding down from intense character descriptions, Lisa Miller plays a pivotal role in the Scott Pilgrim vs. the World adaptations. While she may not be involved in the most popular portions of the franchise, she still holds up as an important part of the original story. With occasional references here and there, Lisa remains a piece of the oversized puzzle of Scott Pilgrim. Fans of the film unfamiliar with the graphic novel series’ story are highly encouraged to read back on what they are missing: the character of Lisa Miller is far more nuanced than she is usually portrayed as online. She serves as more than just a “manic pixie dream girl” and has an enormous impact on the plot's progression.

#lisa miller #scott pilgrim #ramona flowers #i cant stand her #im going insane #i need a lobotomy #scott pilgrim vs the world

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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year ago

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tags: noncon spanking, power imbalance (boss/employee), exhibitionism, f!reader, reader wears a skirt + is implied to be chubby, this is just about being disciplined by sir crocodile pffft sorry idk what got into me with this one mini disclaimer: I haven’t been up to date with one piece since 2015 + I just finished the alabasta arc during my current re-read. this is pre-canon but please forgive me if I’ve missed anything. pairing: sir crocodile/f!reader word count: 1.4k

“Are you stupid?”

The clipboard in your hand shakes at the harsh words. You owlishly blink at the source of them - your boss, whose upturned eyebrows tell you just how annoyed he is. Crocodile isn’t someone who you should try to talk back to, especially you - too soft compared to him and still fairly new to this job-

Yet you can’t help but bristle at his tone.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“I've excused you quite enough, haven't I?”

He clicks his tongue and his cigar dips with it, ignoring your indignant face.

“You don't listen, woman. I let it go yesterday but here you go again, staring off into space.”

Oh. So he noticed.

It pains you to admit but you’re still starstruck over working for Sir Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea - and somewhat of a hero to your people. Helping him operate Rain Dinners might be weirdly mundane but being close to the man who has saved the people of Alabasta countless times is something you’re still not quite over. You know you’re too old to be that naive, that blue-eyed - but who can fault for wondering where he got that scar in his face from, or how he lost his hand? Working for someone like him would spice up anyone’s life in Rainbase.

“Ah”, he sighs - heavy and exhausted as though you’re some kind of mutt, refusing to be properly trained - and puts out his cigar. “It's no use.”

Okay, now you’re starting to sweat. Your eyes rush to the manager - who just blinks back at you, a cryptic expression on her stony face.

“Over my knee.”

“Sir-”, you stammer out, glad that the words are even coming out despite the cold shower that is running down your spine. “This is entirely inappropriate- In front of other employees, no less-”

A wave of his hook interrupts you.

“A learning opportunity, then.”

This has to be some sort of nightmare - if it weren’t for the curious little head tilt of the other woman in the room, you’d try to pinch yourself awake. Your mouth opens and closes while you try to process this situation, try to make sense of it. You should leave, quit on the spot, tell him to fuck off-

You surprise yourself when you set down the clipboard with shaky hands.

Maybe it’s because deep down, you don’t want to lose this job or because of the way his voice leaves no more room for discussion - but you lower yourself over his legs, feeling very much like a rotten child and not a fully grown woman. They dig into the fat of your stomach and press the waistband of your skirt uncomfortably against it but you don’t even dare to adjust yourself, you just grip the edge of the chair weakly and try to soothe the sting of humiliation by scrutinizing the texture of the floor beneath you.

You know what comes next - still you startle as your skirt is hiked up by his rough hand. He lifts up your midriff ever so slightly while he pulls the piece of clothing over your ass, the sturdy fabric holding almost all of your weight for a short second. Luckily, it stays intact - contrary to your tights. Thick fingers hook themselves underneath the band that helps them stay in place and you can only let out an indignant squeak as he digs into the thin fabric like it’s butter, ripping large holes into it. At least he leaves your panties where they belong.

“You’re going to count for me”, he says from somewhere above as though he’s telling you how he likes to take his whiskey and not about to spank his employee for a minor transgression.

You just nod with too much enthusiasm and a burning hot face.

You’re stock-still and tense over his knee - so acutely aware of the impending doom. He’s not going to be gentle with you, you have no pretense about that, you know that he’s going to make you feel his frustration, every bit of it.

He lifts his hand from your ass - you hear the fabric of his clothes shuffle, strain - and brace yourself.

It doesn’t hurt at first. You only register the smack of his palm meeting your flesh and feel the force that is behind it, that pushes you forward and shifts the content of your stomach uncomfortably over the bone of his thigh. A split second passes and then- it burns.

You can’t suppress the shocked whimper that leaves you as you press out the count. “One.”

“One, what?”

You grit your teeth in utter shame but promptly rectify your mistake.

"One, Sir. And thank you- Sir"

Your words are rewarded with his hand rubbing the skin beneath it - maybe it’s to alleviate the pain, maybe it’s to cop a feel - you cannot tell.

The next four hits come rather quickly. Your head is thrown down with each one and you can feel the snot building up in your nose, blood accumulating where branches of both the external and internal carotids meet, the skin hot and sticky. Still, you count each and every one of them, your voice getting wispier and wispier from the pain.

“Having trouble holding that thick head of yours up?”, he asks after the fifth one, thumb digging into now tender flesh. It’s an entirely rhetorical question.

“Let me help you. Don’t move.”

Not moving turns out to be rather difficult when his hook moves to your neck, that sharp, glinting tip too close to the soft organs of your throat. The cold metal settles right where your suprahyoid muscles connect to the bone, just above your larynx.

It’s not enough to choke you - but the discomfort keeps your neck straining, instinctively trying to shield that small brace of bone that forms the hyoid.

Your eyes meet blue ones, just above the edge of Crocodile’s desk. You must look absolutely pathetic to her, you’re sure - but there is no judgment in her face, just a slender knuckle under her chin as her full attention is on you. Every further thought is swept away by another hit to your rear. It jerks you into his hook, crushing the fine cartilage of your voice box, forcing mucus into your mouth. Something pops among the muscles, like the jump of a tendon over bone and you balk at the noise, sure that he’ll break you before he even gets to the end of this.

Yet you sputter out the number six, voice throaty with strain.

Seven, eight, nine and ten follow quickly - and aren’t less harsh. Every single cell of your body is focused on getting from one moment to the next, of just getting through this.

Whatever it is you do, it’s deemed to be adequate - eleven and twelve come and go - slower, but heavier - and he finally rests his hand on your prickling skin after you croak out fifteen, Sir, your throat tender and ass bruised so deeply that your left leg shakes with it. A few tense seconds pass - during which you’re not sure if he’s actually done or not, but a soft sigh confirms it.

“Up with you.”

You’ve never moved faster in your life, beaten ass be damned. Trying to preserve the last shreds of your dignity, you tuck down your rumpled skirt with shaky fingers, fighting the urge to rub your sore neck. You can barely look at him, too scared you might find nothing but disdain in his eyes.

“Look at you now. What a nuisance.” He doesn’t sound disappointed - just tired. Like you’re a mess that needs to be cleaned up and he just came home from a long day at work. You shrink into yourself at his tone, relieved that it’s over but still tense, still afraid that there will be other consequences. “Go on. Get yourself fixed.”

You’re dismissed with a simple wave of the very hand you can still feel on your skin - that will make it hard for you to sit in the next few days.

Robin's eyes follow you as you hurry out of the door, pantyhose ripping even further because you try to clumsily adjust it while walking, your face betraying every single emotion you feel. Hurt, humiliation, even genuine anguish - but you’re still in one piece, even if your ego (and ass) are a little beat up. She tilts her head as she watches the very last traces of you disappear.

“Hm. You've gotten soft.”

He huffs in annoyance and reaches for the untouched newspaper in front of him, not even bothering to light a new cigar. She eyes Crocodile for a second as he pulls the pages taut. Something clicks.

"You like her", she says, thoroughly amused now.

The only answer she gets is a sharp tug at the newspaper.

A/N: It's hard to decipher what non-Baroque Works employees of Rain Dinners call Robin -- but she is addressed as manager, so I stuck with that. I hope it didn't confuse you.

#/one piece #one piece x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #/crocodile #tw.noncon

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whowhatifs · 2 years ago

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⋆｡°✩ Infamous MC ask game ✩°｡⋆

Infamous by @infamous-if has got my mind buzzing and me humming, so I put together this little ask meme to develop and get to know our MCs, if anyone would like to play!

These are mostly focused on things that would have been established by the start of the story, but there may still be a spoiler or two.

★ MUSIC ★

Band name: How did they and the others come up with the band name? Has the name changed since it was founded?

Albums: What are some of the albums the band has released? Are they a consistent style? What themes did they explore?

Favourites: Which song of the band’s is your MC’s favourite? Which is the fan-favourite?

Training: How did they learn to sing? Have they had any formal training? How do they continue to maintain and develop their singing voice?

Retro: What was the first CD they ever bought with their own money? Do they still have it? Do they still like it?

Full circle: What is the first song they ever wrote? Played? What’s the most recent?

Songwriting: What’s their process? Is it different than it was when they used to write songs with Seven?

★ PERSONALITY ★

Beginnings: When and how did they know they wanted to be a professional musician? Was there a deciding factor?

Performance: What are they thinking and feeling while they’re performing? How do they act on stage?

Persona: How does their day-to-day personality compare to their on-stage persona?

Stage name: Do they or have they ever had one? How did they choose it?

Professional: How seriously do they take their singing career? Do they consider themself a professional?

Quitting: Have they ever come close to quitting their professional music career? When? What brings them back?

Change: How has their personality changed since Seven left the band? Are those changes related to Seven leaving?

★ RELATIONSHIPS ★

Bandmates: How do they feel about the members of the band? Would they still be interested in stardom if they weren’t with that group?

Hero: What is their favourite thing about G? Why is your MC such a big fan?

Fans: How is their relationship with their fans? Do they go out of their way to interact?

Manager: Do they get along with Orion? What do they think of him as their band manager?

Besties: What’s their friendship with Rowan like? What are some things only he knows about them?

Baby: How do they feel about Jazzy leaving? How are they coping? What are their plans to stay in touch?

Tattoo: Did they keep the tattoo with Seven’s initials? Why/why not? What was that decision/execution process like? (Bonus: What do they think of Seven keeping their tattoo?)

★ CREATION ★

Development: How did you come up with your character? Is their design still evolving? How do you think they might develop through the story?

Voice: What does their singing voice sound like? Do you have voiceclaims(s) for them?

Lyrics: What are some songs you associate with your character? Any specific lyrics that really scream your character?

Fame: Do you think your character will enjoy fame? Do they think they will? What elements do you think they might struggle with? Do you think they’ll be happy at the end of this road?

Storybeats: If you could design one scene to happen in the story, what would it be? How would it change your character? What would make it so satisfying for the character arc?

Wild card: Tell us something about your MC! Feel free to really just roll us over with an emotional steamroller and crush the souls out of our bodies, if you’d like. (You’re also welcome to choose one of the other questions to answer!)

Seven: Do you have headcanons about their friendship and/or romantic relationship (past or future)? What do you imagine some of their best memories are? What do you think some of Seven’s favourite things about your MC were/are?

To keep the game going, please send an ask to whoever you reblog this from (if they’re playing)! And feel free to tag me in your answers, time permitting I’d love to check them out. Have fun! ♡

#ask game #infamous if #interactive fiction #my only MC with an established name is Hedwig though another has the stage name Cassowary (less developed)#i spent entirely too much time on this so im off to study for now xoxo #if there are grammatical errors please look away i am tired #pinned #update: ive got 2.5 MCs now. hedwig polly and another one with no name yet skcjfkskdk

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aspoonofsugar · 7 months ago

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That's Entertainment

The Hazbin Hotel's Pilot is called "That's Entertainment". The title is a tongue in cheeck joke, as the series is good entertainment, but it also references "That's Entertainment!", a song from The Band Wagon musical. This song is quite famous and it became an anthem of sorts for Hollywood as a whole. Here it is its final stanza:

The world is a stage The stage is a world Of entertainment!

Does it sound familiar? It should:

Alastor: After all, the world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment.

Why is there such a reference in the Pilot?

There are two reasons:

Hazbin Hotel is a series with allusions to musicals, movies, memes, fairy tales and different mythologies. All these references tie into the story and characters by commenting plotlines and arcs. So, The Band Wagon's easter egg is the same.

Both The Band Wagon and Hazbin Hotel are meta-stories. They are pieces of entertainment about making entertainment. "That's Entertainment!" (song) has something to say about musicals. "That's Entertainment" (pilot) has something to say about stories.

So, Hazbin Hotel is full of references that can be read:

On a story or character level - in the sense that they enrich the series and its protagonists

On a meta-narrative level - in the sense that they metaphorically comment on the entertainment industry

Let's analyze these two layers of reading, when it comes to some motifs and characters. Of course, let's start from one of the oldest creative minds of the universe. The very first dreamer:

Charlie: Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation.

LUCIFER: THE GREATEST SHOWMAN

Lucifer is a dreamer both when it comes to morals (story and character level) and to creativity (meta-narrative level).

Morals - Lucifer's first big project is to share free will with humanity:

Charlie Morningstar: Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

Lucifer and Lilith's plan was to give humanity knowledge, so that they could challenge the system and decide for themselves how to live. It is an ideal rooted in the faith people can be amazing, when in charge of their destiny.

Creativity - Lucifer is so passionate about "creation" that he turns Hell itself into a big colorful show. A seven-ring circus full of acts and performances happening at the same time. This is the metaphorical meaning of Hell's circus motif. This realm is the greatest shit-show of all times and Lucifer is its creator. He is the Greatest Showman. After all, Lucifer's known activities are:

Its previous shows with the Seven Deadly Sins' Troupe

A theme park called LuLu World

An App similar to Ticketmaster, which is called Lucimaster

These are all linked to the entertainment industry. Isn't it strange that the King of Hell has such a specialization? Shouldn't he have control over a more strategic part of the economy, like industry, banks or health? And yet, entertainment is Lucifer's domain because deep down Hell is nothing, but a showbusiness factory.

So, Lucifer is at his root a wide-eyed idealist, both when it comes to his political stance and to his creative process. And yet, Lucifer gives up on dreaming:

Charlie: Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream.

He stops seeing the good in others and loses hope for the system and people alike to change. He can't imagine a different future than the sad and lonely present he lives in.

He is stuck creating "ugly ducklings" he himself dislikes:

Lucifer: That's it… Almost there… Now presenting… the magic-tastical back flipping rubber duck! Haha! That spits fire! Hoo hoo hoo! Hold the applause please, okay. Oh, thank you, thank you. Oh god, who am I kidding? This sucks!

Lucifer's creative block is conveyed also by some details set up in the Hellaverse. For example, Helluva Boss shows another sin, who is very active in the entertainment industry.

WHEN MAMMON STOLE THE SHOWBIZ

Mammon, King of Greed apparently breaks an established pattern in Helluva Boss. In this show, every sin is introduced by a song focused on their vice.

Asmodeus, King of Lust, has House of Asmodeus:

Asmodeus: You singing love songs in my lustful lounge? Fizzarolli: Ozzie's ain't the place for sentimental sounds! Asmodeus: What'd you expect from a proprietor like us? Fizzarolli: Your demon host, Asmodeus, the embodiment of lust! Asmodeus: Give me a thrust! Fizzarolli: Bwabwabwabwa bwaaaah- Asmodeus: Show me some lust From the groin to the bust In desire, we trust In the house of Asmodeus

Beelzebub, Queen of Gluttony, has Cotton Candy:

Hey! I'm whatchu need, I'm watchu want I got it all, a carnival I'll bring you up, I'll take you down I'm sticky sweet, stuck in your teeth Like cotton candy Cotton candy (Ah-ah, ah-ah) Cotton candy (Ah-ah, ah-oh) Cotton candy (Ah-ah, ah-ah) I'm whatchu want Not watchu need (Ah-ah, ah-oh)

What about Mammon? The King of Greed has actually a lot of songs that explore his sin. Let's think about what his debut episode is called: "Mammon's magnificent musical mid-season special (ft Fizzarolli)".

Mammon doesn't sing nor performs, but the musical is still his. Fizz, who is the main character of the episode, gets only a mention.

In other words, all the songs featured in the mid-season special are Mammon's songs. They do not directly say anything about greed, but they comment on this sin in a meta-narrative way:

Octavia: Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off of Lucifer's far more popular Lu Lu World?

The Sin of Greed steals others' talents, so his songs are stolen songs. Loo Loo Land is the perfect example of this:

Everybody's friendly And nobody is mean No copyright infringements ever seen I have a dream (He has a dream) I'm here to tell (He's here to tell) About a magical fantastic place Called Loo Loo Land

This song has Mammon:

Profit of Lucifer and his Lu Lu World theme park

Rip off Charlie's Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow song

Possess Fizzarolli's body

The King of Greed is a talentless performer:

Asmodeus: Also, you are a waaaay better performer than Mammon ever was, and thaaat's just facts.

Still, he is good at marketing and is slowly stealing the showbusiness for himself. He organizes pageants, finds new talents to exploit and has convinced Hell's middle class that being a clown like him is the coolest thing ever:

Fizzarolli: It's not about that! It's getting to work with my idol. I just love that he's giving someone new the chance to be in the spotlight! He's an inspiration. Blitzo: Well he's- definitely something alright. I mean, I dunno, was it worth all our savings just to have him put on an over-hyped commercial, and then bitch about taxes, and then assault us with clowns, vomit, and pass out on stage? Fizzarolli: So worth it!

What does it all mean for Lucifer?

On a character level, it ties with Lucifer's depression and general sense of failure. He is a Seraphim, the King of Hell and a brilliant artist and performer. And yet, he can't stop one of his subjects from ripping off his ideas. Once again Lucifer's dreams are ruined. They become soulless and rotten. Moreover, the one doing this is a member of Lucifer's own Circus Troupe, which adds to the impression of isolation and loneliness Lucifer gives off.

On a meta-narrative level, greed is corrupting the entertainment industry, as the dreamer in charge of it feels unmotivated and uninspired. This is a pretty poignant and tongue-in-cheeck dig to the current state of things, where corporations are mass-producing empty stories. After all, Lucifer fits the Mr Alt Disney TV Trope:

A No Celebrities Were Harmed version of Walt Disney; expect him to be the animator of a world-famous cartoon character (frequently a Mocky Mouse) and/or the founder of Souvenir Land. Also expect an exaggerated interest in planned communities and/or creating a utopia, possibly with sinister undertones. He'll present said utopia in the form of a World's Fair-like exhibition, usually in his parks. Many of these characters go beyond parodying just Disney and fuse him with Howard Hughes, another mustachio'd early/Golden Age of Hollywood impresario and futurist. Hughes gradually became debilitated by severe mental illness (OCD and agoraphobia) and eventually was reduced to living in seclusion, obsessively carrying out odd habits.

Lucifer is an oddball with a Showbiz Empire in Hell. He is loosely an expy of Walt Disney and the old Hollywood, but he is now tired and unable to produce anything new. Luckily, there is a beautiful disney-like princess ready to help him.

HAZBIN HOTEL, THE GREATEST SHOW

Charlie is a disney princess with the twist she reigns in hell, rather than on a classical fairy tale kingdom. In particular, she resembles Rapunzel in both design and personality:

Both princesses wear their hair tied, but they let it loose when they use their powers. They are enthusiastic, able to inspire others, but also sheltered. So, they are a bit childish. Charlie is basically Rapunzel if Raps were met with a cynical world the moment she escaped the tower:

He's got a dream He's got a dream See, I ain't as cruel and vicious as I seem Though I do like breaking femurs You can count me with the dreamers Like everybody else I've got a dream

Inside of every demon is a rainbow! Inside every sinner is a shiny smile! Inside of every creepy hatchet-wielding maniac, Is a jolly, happy, cupcake-loving child!

Rapunzel enters a sinister inn, shares her dream and is validated and understood by a bunch of bandits. Charlie explains her goal to all of Hell and is humiliated and laughed at by everyone.

Despite this setback, Charlie is still a disney-like princess and throughout the first season she brings dreams to others. This is true especially for Lucifer:

The King of Hell's dreams are awaken by Charlie's Hazbin Hotel project in two ways.

On a character level, Charlie's Hazbin Hotel is the evolution of Lucifer's dream, as it is rooted in the belief human souls can choose goodness. Even after death:

Charlie: Don't you care, Sera? That just because someone is dead, it doesn't Mean they can't resolve to change their ways Turn the page, escape infernal blaze

On a meta-narrative level, Hazbin Hotel is the greatest show. It is a new series, which takes obvious inspiration from classics, both disney movies and musicals. However, it is still fresh and innovative. Similarly, its protagonist is a disney-like princess (Charlie), who inspires a Walt Disney expy (Lucifer). She is a creation (daughter) giving hope to her creator (father). This is why by the end of season 1, Lucifer finds some of his old creative drive, as he helps Charlie rebuild the Hotel:

Lucifer: Remedial creation for me... it's as easy as can be!

Charlie brings back both hope (story level) and entertainement (meta-narrative level) in hell:

Alastor: Hahaha, why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom! I've lacked inspiration for decades. My work became mundane, lacking focus, aimless! I've come to crave a new form of entertainment! Hahaha!

She has the talent to renew a showbiz (hell), which is mundane and aimless. She has a freshness, which catches the eye of navigated entertainers:

Alastor: She's filled with potential that I could guide Rosie: I concur Rosie and Alastor: Stick with her, you'll be on the winning side

Still, why is that so? Why is Charlie such a good entertainer?

CHARLIE: THE PERFORMATIVE DREAMER (CHARACTER LEVEL)

Charlie is entertaining because:

She tries hard to keep up her smile, even if she is suffering inside. In this sense, she is a real performer

She is so dedicated to her objective, that she is ready to do anything to reach it. In this sense, she is a true dreamer

Charlie, the performer

Alastor:Just because you see a smile don't think you know what's going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control.

Charlie is a character, who masks her negative emotions behind smiles, enthusiasm and an apparent neverending optimism. In reality, she struggles a lot with who she is:

Alastor: Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer's delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands, as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!

Has Charlie founded the Hazbin Hotel to help sinners or to find herself a purpose? The answer is both. Charlie's project is born from genuine altruism, but also from a selfish desire to matter.

Charlie, the dreamer

Alastor: You have a dream! You wish to tell! And it's just laughable. But, hey, kid, what the hell?

Charlie's dream seems impossible, almost a delusion. And yet, Charlie keeps pursuing it, no matter what. She sings her heart out to advertise the hotel... only to be seen by everyone as a joke. Still, she keeps going. She doesn't give up on her project.

Alastor: Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself! I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure!

Seeing Charlie struggle is fun because even if she fails, she tries again. She experiments new things, she learns and she teaches. She apologizes and she forgives. She never quits. So, she is an entertainer.

Charlie: I have a dream, I'm here to tell! About a wonderful fantastic new hotel!

CHARLIE, THE PERFORMER FULL OF DREAMS (META-NARRATIVE LEVEL)

Charlie puts up a performance and follows her dream no matter what. She hides within herself a selfish motivation (fiction), but earnestly pursues her selfless dream (reality). Similarly, Hazbin Hotel is a story (fiction) with a strong heart (reality).

That is because entertainment is rooted into reality:

Anything that happens in life Can happen in a show You can make 'em laugh You can make 'em cry Anything, anything can go (That's Entertainment! - The Band Wagon)

Charlie: Does getting into a fistfight with a reporter count as entertainment…? Alastor: Hahaha! It's the purest kind, my dear: Reality! True passion!

The song states anything can be entertainment

Alastor claims that good entertainment is born from genuine passion

It is the same idea declined in different ways. Entertainment is a representation of the world, of its flaws and beauties. It is fiction, but in a sense it must stay true to itself. Just like Charlie herself is both a performative dreamer (fiction) and a performer full of dreams (reality):

She is a performative dreamer because deep down she feels she must be perfect and repress her negative feelings. Only in this way she has value. She masks herself with a pollyanna persona.

She is a performer full of dreams because she has the talent to maker her dreams come true and to become a real artist in the process. To succeed, though, she should not ignore her hidden parts. She must face reality.

THE WORLD IS A STAGE AND THE STAGE IS A WORLD OF ENTERTAINMENT

When fiction and reality meet, entertainment is born. This is what Hazbin Hotel's meta-message seems to be. A story is invented, but the feelings behind it must be genuine.

At the same time, entertainment helps people better understand themselves. This may be why Hazbin Hotel is full of entertainment motifs. Here are some:

Charlie is a singer

Vaggie is a dancer

Angel is an actor

Alastor is linked to radios

Vox is a TV demon

Valentino is a director and producer

Adam is a musician, whose arc is described by the musical "School of Rock"

Charlie and Alastor's bond is commented by the musical "Annie"

For each one of these references, one could write a meta (I hope I will for some tbh). That is how much the idea of entertainment is intertwined in the story. In conclusion, it is definately true that:

The world is a stage = Fiction must take inspiration from reality or it will feel hollow

The stage is a world = Stories can help to better understand reality and make sense of it

Hazbin Hotel is a piece of entertainment about entertainment, which is best understood through the lens of entertainment. In short, it is entertainment!

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel meta #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #mammon helluva boss #my meta

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laiqualaurelote · 7 months ago

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First Lines

Tagged by @nostalgicatsea (forever ago but I'm only getting to my tags now). Thank you!

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

speak easy, swing hard

When the shots rang out in the Arc, the band didn’t stop playing. It was twelve minutes into the new year at a Stark speakeasy and the joint was jumping, the floor crammed with gin baby socialites essaying the Charleston, mobsters clustered around tables, petty thieves circling and dipping into the pockets of the unwary; when the bullets started flying the crowd screamed and sought to scatter but the bandleader barely blinked, just led his crew full tilt into another chorus of ‘I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate’ while the singer, a svelte Sokovian songbird in a shimmering scarlet number, sidestepped a bullet that buried itself in a piano leg and kept right on crooning, All the boys in the neighbourhood know she can shimmy and it’s understood, while all hell broke loose on the dance floor.

well-versed in etiquette, extraordinarily nice

“You must know, Mr Crowley, that this is to be my last job,” said Jane.

all the men and women merely players

In with the wind blows the news that the Players are coming to town.

constant as a northern star (constantly in the dark)

Sachiko Crimm meets Ted Lasso for the first time in a Lidl.

The Lady With The Recorder Asks The Questions

“You took out the line about the threesomes, didn’t you?”

ain't practical, a world you can't touch

Just a whole lot of aiming, he’d told Cornelia once. But it’s Martha Myers who misses.

maybe everything that dies someday comes back

“He don’t look like much,” said the client. “You sure he’s the chap we’re after?”

a song that will keep sky open in my mind

We knew Eli was back because of the baby. We could hear it crying clean across the wheat fields.

can't start a fire without a spark

It was a whole thing when Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham blew town together and ran off to start a rock band.

A Gentleman's Guide To Love And Piracy

Day seven of my return to the high seas, wrote Stede in his journal. Since Lucius was no longer around to take dictation, the journal existed only in his head. Morale is low, I will not lie.

Patterns - I'm a big fan of in media res (it worked for Homer and it works for me) and so I like to start in the middle of things. I'm also trained to write hooks for people with short attention spans, so my first lines tend to be crunchy. The one exception is the first on the list, which is from speak easy, swing hard, the 1920s Prohibition-era Avengers AU I wrote for @nostalgicatsea as part of @marveltrumpshate. I wanted it to evoke the wild, chaotic tempo of a hot jazz number (something like the intro to this) so most of it is a pile-up of a long run-on sentence, and the writing continues in this fashion until Tony shows up to calm things down, whereupon the paragraphs go back to being a brief couple of lines each. I learnt this trick from seeing how translators handle action sequences in wuxia novels.

Tagging: @leupagus, @themardia, @auntieclimactic, @nagia-pronounced-neijia, @eisoj5, @swallowtailed, @justplainsalty, @bropunzeling, @st-clements-steps, @sagiow and anyone else who'd like to do this!

#procrasktination #ted lasso #miss fisher's murder mysteries #mfmm #the english #tag game #stranger things #marvel cinematic universe #the avengers #good omens #jane austen #ofmd #our flag means death spoilers

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infamous-if · 1 year ago

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There's been some discussion recently about MC that caught my attention because I agree. MC feels like a loser when you think about all of the other characters. When I play an MC who did nothing wrong to Seven it just feels like Seven is angry for no reason. Seven is allowed to act like a child while MC has to take it? Doesn't seem fair.

Everyone has something going for them and what about MC? No one likes them and everyone hates their guts. Aren't they supposed to be the main character? Why does everyone hate them? Why aren't they considered more talented? It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

I don't want this to come off any way but I feel like the story would be stronger if you made MC a bit meaner or at least made people acknowledge MC as a better singer.

I don't want to sound rude but I'm very much exhausted by this topic. I've probably explained this 5+ times but I'll try to break it down one last time just so people can understand what I'm trying to do.

First, to get it out of the way, we are only on Chapter 2. I just want to reiterate that. The story just started.

It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

Secondly, MC is a character I try to give as much customization to, both personality and appearance wise. There's a variety of ways you can approach everything, or I at least try to in a way that doesn't sacrifice what I want to write for the plot, but I think people are under the impression MC is 100% a blank slate character when it's not true.

MC is still dependent on the plot and I always strived for MC to have their own narrative arc. The same way the ROs have their own character arcs, MC will have their own, because they are a character in their own right and going through some that fundamentally changes their life. That means the MC from Chapter 1 will not be the MC at Chapter 20. They will be different. That's what a character arc is. Character development is expected. How can you expect a slew of ROs to grow and change and MC remaining stagnant? Doesn't make sense narratively and it seems unfair to MC.

The MC is not a completely blank slate, and that's where people are getting it confused. In the beginning, MC is going through such a change with BOTB, without their family, and on the heels of a band breakup that's still impacting them today. MC is a little down, maybe even depressed if that's how you read it, and they're getting pushed to be leader by their manager. They are not really okay right now. They have to be professional and put on a brave face for the sake of their band, who, if you paid attention to what Rowan said in Chapter 2, are all depending on this. This is what they worked for since high school. MC is not going to flip a damn table on Day 1 just because you want them to. MC can fight, if you choose, against UWB. That's not supposed to be a smart choice, but emotions get the best of all of us.

They are only just navigating a worldwide globally famous show with a cheating allegation hanging over their heads, and a manager who wants them to be leader when, up until now, they haven't been. They've just been friends making music and miraculously having a fanbase. Now they're really in it. They have been thrust head first into the industry in a way that is so big that MC has to go from singer playing with their friends to a leader of a band who may just become globally famous in a few months if they play their cards right.

A lot of their actions are influenced by the fact that their band almost broke up and it's a thing that hangs over their head. Their past influences them. That's...how people work.

Now, if we're at Chapter 20 and MC is still acting like a scared bunny who doesn't know what they're doing, then be my guest. Scream in my inbox, I'd understand. That would be terrible writing, but we're not. The tour just started.

I play an MC who did nothing wrong to Seven it just feels like Seven is angry for no reason. Seven is allowed to act like a child while MC has to take it? Doesn't seem fair.

MC doesn't have to take it lol. I've always given an option to be rude to Seven/try to put them in their place.

People think I favor Seven when that's not true. (Seven isn't even my favorite RO)(That title goes to August lol). Seven acts the way they act because they are not in a healthy headspace. Their actions are not meant to be understood, because they are not entirely justified. Seven has a lot of growing up to do, but I have never sat here and advertised Seven's emotions as correct. Everyone knows Seven is childish, everyone knows Seven is handling everything terribly. People in the story have mentioned it. Their abandonment issues GREATLY influence their characterization and actions. MC has abandonment issues as well, of course, but MC is not as emotionally unstable as Seven. That's canon. It is what it is. Seven has a whole subplot about it.

As do other ROs. The only difference is that they're not so open about their struggles. Seven just doesn't care. Their emotions guide them. They can't control it. That's who they are. I have also said that many times.

I don't know why you think Seven can get away with everything when 1) it's only been 2 chapters and 2) no one knows how anyone feels about Sev because it's in MC's POV. Seven goes through their own trial by fire. As every RO does......thats a narrative arc.

Seven was always going to be a plot point, whether they were an RO or not. They were always going to be MC's former best friend.

This one bothers me the most, mostly because I don't know where this came from. "No one likes them" Jenna and The Jewels does. Slow Crawl does. Their fans do. We haven't even properly met the other bands. Of course there will be bands who don't like MC: they're competitors. They're not friends. They don't know MC, why would they be biased towards them? Because they're the main character? They don't care about that?? It's how fiction works.

Maya is following the band around because of how much she admires MC.

Orion quit his job because MC's singing inspired him that much.

G listened to MC and saw something in them. Literally calls them the 'Chosen One'

Fans of the old band preferred MC over Seven. They liked the songs where MC sang solo. MC was better for their future over Seven. Hence why it was Seven getting demoted, not MC. I've said this. It's in the story.

I don't see how being the lead singer of a band on a global show at 26 makes anyone an actual loser but I digress.

Literally in Part 2 MC is acknowledged so maybe it'd be better if we waited? Say a good few chapters...?

If you wanted a story where MC is Queen level famous right out the gate and the #1 draft pick for BOTB and has no problems and better than everyone, then I'd advise you to look elsewhere. I don't like that. I like giving MC obstacles because conflict creates story. I like MC having to fight for their spot. It's more realistic, and this has never been a story of fame. It's been a story of their journey to fame.

That's their narrative arc. They grow into it.

You are allowed to hate/dislike Seven. I encourage it. I have given MC the option to hate Seven, because I'm aware that what Seven is doing is unfair. I am not punishing you for hating Seven. And this goes for all the ROs. It does not bother me if you dislike my characters. It means I haven't made them squeaky clean and have made them realistic enough to have people both dislike and like them, much like real life. I get it.

I've always advertised Infamous as a messy, angsty and dramatic story. I've used the term 'melodrama' for it often. I've always said the ROs--especially Seven--are flawed. Some more than others. I've said, verbatim, they are not wholly good people. I don't know why people act so shocked when they act some type of way. Like...I've always stayed true to what the story is. Half the dynamics aren't healthy right now...but that's the 'growing up part' of the story we haven't even gotten to yet?

If that doesn't interest you, then that's perfectly okay! If you don't like the narrative arc I have planned for MC, that's fine too! It just becomes a bit disheartening when people ignore the narrative.

I will try harder to write in a way that specifies my intentions. I always believe that if more than a handful of readers have the same complaint, then it's on the writer to fix it.

I hope my tone didn't come off rude, I'm just really really tired of this. I've had to deal with this since even before the demo dropped :) but your critiques are valid and everyone is always free to express themselves however they want. <3

#inbox #'MC is a loser' convo will always follow me I guess #MC will win a grammy and someone will be like: “they're kinda...loserish though? imagine winning a grammy at 30 and not 20 lol”#/j #ill add this to the faq and never talk about it again

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amywritesthings · 11 months ago

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ownership of mine (4/4)

pairing: kino loy x f!reader ( andor ) word count: 2.2k summary: The Empire has integrated their prison systems, with you as one of the few women now incarcerated at Narkina 5. The unit manager takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! post-narkina arc, peril, presumed character death (he ain't dead gtfo of here), alcohol, angst with a happy ending a/n: this epilogue-ish chapter is dedicated to the wonderful people of next big franchise. without you all, this fic wouldn't have been possible. my many thanks for your laughs and friendship over the last year.

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR

welcome to the tenth day of the twelve days of amymas !!

Seven-hundred days.

It would have been seven-hundred entire days since you last stepped foot on solid earth;

Since your last real meal;

Since you made a vow to keep your head low, to serve, so that you could finally see the sun again.

And you were going to see the sun again.

Your sentence was drawing to a close with little incident.

Kino Loy would leave first, and you would follow.

Your new life was right there.

—but then the prison riots happened, and everything went to shit.

The day Cassian Andor arrived at Narkina 5 is still a hazy one.

You recognized the fire in his eyes right away; a death wish walking on two legs.

Cassian wanted out of here the minute he stepped foot in this place.

(Didn’t he know he had to serve his time, keep his head low, and do what he must?)

He became Kino's new problem and, naturally, yours.

Every day after became a blur.

Kino continued to keep order, to remind everyone of the common goal, even with Andor's poison of fighting their way out.

The floor manager still met you with secret touches, longing stares, and whispered promises to meet you at the showers when the unit was busy feeding...

But then something changed.

Veemoss dies. One hundred men on Level Two get fried.

The final domino was the passing of Ulaf.

Something snapped, and that something — that someone — was Kino.

Because Kino Loy wasn't busy keeping order, no.

The opposite:

Kino Loy was readily agreeing to chaos.

Order was an illusion.

The other floors were frying.

No one was getting out of the bottom of this pit.

One way out.

So your Unit banded together and pushed up.

Up, up, until you took the prison for yourselves.

Up, up, until you saw the expanse of a tumultuous sea.

Then down — off the platform, pushed by the other desperate prisoners.

Into the freezing water, where you fought for your lungs to propel you to shore.

Away from Narkina 5.

All without Kino.

You’d lost the fearless leader of Five-Two-D somewhere in the mayhem.

Kino!

The constant of sweaty hands and bustling bare feet made it hard standing still as you shouted his name.

Kino!

A brief moment of relief passes through your body when you see that familiar head of salt and pepper hair.

Your eyes connect. He looks just as worried as you — until he sees that you're safe.

I can’t swim.

You swear you heard it — Kino’s voice, but it's too late.

One burly prisoner knocks straight into you to dive off the platform, knocking you backwards with him.

You lose your footing.

The world is weightless as you fall to the ocean.

Your back collides with the water, leaving you with little choice:

Either you live or you die.

You can't go back for him.

Too many bodies are falling to the depths, and if you don't move, then you may get crushed.

So you choose:

You swim.

You swim and never look back.

SIX MONTHS LATER

It’s freezing at this outpost.

However, it’s better to be freezing in the Outer Rim than living in fear within the inner cities. That would be a surefire way of getting caught by the Empire.

Besides, you don't hate it here. The people are nice. Everyone mostly keeps to themselves.

You've finally seen the sun, eaten hot meals.

You've built a life.

As you enter your favorite dive of a cantina, you’re met with a swirl of artificial warmth. The bar curls at the center of the tiny establishment. A lone singer, a wanted criminal of the Empire herself, croons gently on the makeshift stage at the far right corner. The air reeks of the seasonal ale.

Scharzi, the Iktochi bartender, gives you a sage nod.

You’re welcomed here, even if you don’t usually speak much.

For the longest time, you spoke with no one.

(Paranoia seeped into your very bones.)

After a few weeks, however, you choose to chat with the locals.

It seems like everyone's on the run from the Empire in one way or another. Fugitives with a past and a present, not looking towards much of a future.

Maybe life is simple, dull, in the Outer Rim, but you all agree on one thing:

At least it’s free.

When you sit and shrug off your coat, you give a bland smile to the bartender and hold up a finger: the usual.

They’ve decorated this hole in the wall better than most.

An assortment of winter decorations, lights and strings, line the low ceilings of this place.

It’s cozier with the added lights. Less bleak and depressing.

Scharzi glances at you briefly as his assistant, a small twi’lek — Phia — earning her keep, smiles at you.

Phia is peppy despite her grave interactions with the Empire, scorned and orphaned, but Scharzi has done the best he can to give her shelter and a place to hide.

To be a ghost, like the rest of you.

“Doing anything for the holiday this weekend?” she asks after pushing a goblet of your usual ale to you.

Glancing up at the eager young woman, you shake your head. “Not particularly.”

“Well, we’ll be open our usual hours. I’m sure Charlie and a few others will be coming around,” Phia cheerfully informs.

She cleans up a sticky circle on the counter as a body takes a seat on the stool beside you.

“Then I guess I’ll be here tomorrow, too,” you tell her, scooting on your bar stool to give the stranger some room.

“You better bring your best holiday wish, then.”

“A wish?”

“Yeah, we always do them here.” Phia glances to the man beside you. “What can I get you?”

He waves her off without a word.

(Not uncommon around these parts.)

“Just tell me when you do want something, alright?” she pleasantly tells him, before turning her back to the wall of liquor bottles to rearrange them. “So? What’s your wish?”

You snort, taking another long gulp of your drink.

"My wish?"

"Yeah! Lay it on me. I promise telling doesn't make it not come true."

“It won’t ever come true, so." You sip again, shaking your head. "I don't particularly feel worried about it not happening.”

“Now that I doubt,” Phia counters, sing-song and light. “C'mon. Try me. Hypothetically, what would you make your wish?”

This is stupid.

Then again, so is trying to survive as hard as you have.

There isn’t a point to it, to any of it, yet you live freely out of spite and spite alone.

(The Empire will not win.)

“My wish. I guess I’d wish for… ha, well, I lost someone.”

You trail off before becoming resolute. Certain.

You see him in your mind’s eyes — the way he ducked his chin while sitting on his knees, staring you in the eye with the promise of a better tomorrow.

You earned this.

Your heart clenches.

“He, uh… I think he passed away a few months back. I don’t really know what happened to him. I hope it didn't come to that, but it was unlikely he survived. I think my wish would be getting to see him again, some day.”

The awkwardness of Phia’s stare makes you down the rest of your ale before giving it back.

“Mind topping me off?”

The twi’lek nods solemnly, taking the ale and disappearing around the semi-circle bar to bring you a fresh pint.

His words linger on your tongue, sticking to the roof of your mouth.

You earned this.

Living.

Breathing.

Being.

“Bloody awful wish if you ask me.”

The stranger beside you speaks up.

Their voice is baritone, low with an unmistakable growl.

You almost drop your drink from the shock.

In a flash, you whip your attention to an older man staring back at you: white curls with a growing salt and pepper beard, shorter in height yet twice as intense in the eyes.

His cheeks and nose are reddened by the cold outside.

Maybe Phia laced the ale with something, because you know you’re not drunk.

Maybe you’re tired. Hallucinating.

Or maybe—

“Should spend a wish on something that’s not so easy to come true,” Kino Loy grunts, setting his hands on the bar top as he regards you.

You can’t speak.

Won’t.

You’re too afraid to blink the illusion away.

The older man stares you down, waiting in silence until Phia brings back your second ale.

“Mind giving me what she’s having?” he asks the young barkeep, knowingly making her take a second trip around the other end of the bar to give you space.

"Sure thing! She likes 'em strong, hope that's alright," Phia chirps.

Kino thumbs at his nose. "I'll do my best to handle it."

You haven't stopped staring. You're sure Phia notices your wide-eye gaze.

It doesn't matter, because no matter how much you blink, Kino is still there.

He keeps his chin ducked while he waits to be alone again, before his voice smooths out the edges.

(Just like he always did, when it was only the two of you.)

“Didn’t bring a bloody bouquet of Queen’s Hearts with me, but—”

“How?”

You hate how much of a bark the question is, but the blurt must come before you’re rendered mute.

Kino’s mouth presses to a thin line of regret.

“Is this real?” you whisper, voice dropping to a whisper of uncertainty. “Because I heard—”

“I know.”

“And I saw—”

“I know,” he repeats with a heavy sigh. “It’s more complicated then what we have time for tonight. I’m not here to relive the past, kid. Maybe another night, but not this one.”

Your brain reels with memories you once swallowed so far down they stuck to the pit of your stomach, now threatening to spill here:

Kino Loy, alive and well, at the very Outer Rim city you’ve been hiding in all this time.

“How the hell did you find me?” you quietly reply, absently tightening your grip on the handle of your ale as you process the scent of him.

Faint cologne lingers, new, but it’s still him.

It’s still him.

Kino mumbles a thank you to the twi’lek bartender who then disappears once she hands him the ale, allowing you the illusion of privacy in this cantina.

“...you’re not easy to find, I'll give you that,” he explains, taking a sip of the ale.

His eyes slip close, relishing in its taste, before taking a second, much bigger gulp.

“Had to ask around, but I remember you mentioning this place. Remember you mentioning a couple of places, figured maybe you chose to hide out on one of 'em."

"And you..."

"Went to every single one? Yeah," he supplies. "I’m not one to waste time. Not when we’re living on a borrowed case of it, so I hit up as many places as I could. Finally found you on this one.”

Kino allows a moment to pass, settling his ale back on the bar top, before he leans in.

You don’t move, mesmerized by the way his chest rises and falls under his gray tunic.

Alive.

Alive, alive, alive—

“I told you once that we’d get the hell out of that shitehole, once and for all, and I’d buy you whatever drink fits your fancy at the nearest cantina.”

The man reaches a slow, cautious hand from the table.

Magnetism draws you in, desperate to feel something stable, something warm.

Eventually his palm connected with your cheek and you’re threatened with a surge of emotion.

Same calluses. Same stroke of his thumb.

Simultaneously, you both suck in a sharp breath — two octaves of the same relief.

It’s as though an electric spark flows between you, and you find yourself nuzzling his palm with a longing that’s propelled you for six straight months.

Kino chuckles under his breath at this, only to move in closer.

His other hand cups your face, cradling your head in his reach.

“Sorry I couldn’t find the bloody flowers,” he exhales. “Not exactly welcome at the pearly gates of Naboo, if you could imagine that.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the flowers, Kino,” you inhale, earning another rumbling laugh from the older man.

“No, didn’t think you would.”

When you slip your eyes open, you see him shake his head as if mesmerized by what’s before him.

You stare right back, raising your hands to gently rest against his.

Kino studies your face in the dim lights of the cantina, Adam’s apple bobbing from a thick swallow.

He frowns briefly, as if plagued by a morose thought, before his shoulders droop.

There’s so much to say.

So many doors have closed…

Yet reuniting with the man who taught you to fight to live feels like a fresh start, all the same.

“I’ll take that drink, though,” you murmur, forcing a tired smile to play on your lips.

The former unit manager’s eyes instantly drop to your mouth.

“Whatever you want, love, so long as you’ll have me.”

The smile on your face grows.

He mirrors, huffing and smiling back — only to drag you in for a searing, devastated kiss.

For the first time in years, hope is within the confines of your galaxy.

#kino loy x reader #kino loy x f!reader #kino loy x you #kino loy fanfiction #andor fanfiction #andor fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #kino x you #kino x reader #andor fic #kino loy fanfic #twelve days of amymas

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