#human interaction with sarah
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Ok but do you ever think about how ludo was Sarah’s first true friend in the labyrinth (excluding hoggle because he had mixed intentions at first)
In the novelisation (if I recall correctly) she even thinks she looks like her dog
#I’m a bit insane about gentle giant type characters#labrinth#labyrinth#labyrinth: a novel based on the jim henson film#ludo#sarah williams#going insane#soeciaky since ludo is a puppet and I love how humans interact with puppets in media#I’m a bit odd about this film
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Mason was ready to snap back until...
"Need I remind you, Mason, Orchid put her trust in this woman for our sake... DON'T say something YOU might regret." Yumi stated staring at the back of Mason's head...
"... I... will say that the 'Gray-nose' you are speaking of does have a name. " Mason did his best not to offend but was still miffed that Sarah referred to his sister in such a manner...
"Um... just ignore him for now, he is a bit heated... but we will be happy too answer your questions." Smith stood between Sarah and Mason.
"I'll start by answering about our other company who are not here." The librarian stated "I'm Jay by the way. I stayed behind with Archie and Valkyrie when you took Orchid. Valkyrie woke up a few hours ago and said I should be here as she can take care of herself. She hasn't been with us long but she has shown she can be trusted, having saved my life on a couple of occasions." He said the last part with a slight shy tone.
Yumi then chimed in "As for Archie, I knew him from a few years ago... he is the abnormally small Illager. He showed up at my doorstep looking for a safe place to stay... and he worked hard to be a part of my village. All he really wanted was someone he could call a friend as his clan had kicked him out for being supposedly weak and useless. After an incident with Karl, Archie volunteered to leave incase Karl came back seeking revenge...when we started this journey had been over two years I had not seen him. I'm just glad he was ok..."
"Let alone more than one?"
@orchid-151
#interaction post#illager arc#not ask#not answer#minecraft#minecraft oc#minecraft ask blog#ask blog#minecraft oc ask blog#oc ask blog#minecraft human#minecraft human oc#minecraft villager#i wanted Sarah a chance to react...#sorry for the delay
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Ladies don't travel to another country with a man if your legal status is uncertain. If you do hold onto your passport and make sure your ticket isn't a one way.
Exit trafficking: Western Sydney man abandons his wife overseas after she fell out with his mum
Western Sydney man convicted over 'exit trafficking'
He took his wife abroad, but only he had a return ticket
READ MORE: Human trafficking gang that operated a string of brothels jailed
By PADRAIG COLLINS FOR DAILY MAIL AUSTRALIA
PUBLISHED: 06:40 EDT, 27 June 2024
A western Sydney man who abandoned his wife overseas after she fell out with his mother has been convicted over what is known as 'exit trafficking'.
It is a type of modern slavery where women are tricked or coerced into leaving a country, in this case Australia, and prevented from returning.
The 44-year-old man, who lives in Merrylands in Sydney's south-west, took his wife on 'a charity mission' to their home country of Afghanistan in January 2018, police said.
But the man, known as AR to protect his family, only had a return ticket for himself. His wife did not realise that her ticket was one-way to Afghanistan.
The day after he returned to Australia, AR wrote to the Department of Home Affairs, cancelling the sponsorship of his wife's visa, the Sydney Morning Herald reported.
He did so because his mum didn't like his wife, and it resulted in the woman he had been married to for four years being stranded overseas.
The woman's relatives helped get her back to Australia, where she reported her husband to the police.
AR's conviction last Friday was the third such exit trafficking conviction in Australia.
He was sentenced to two years jail with 12 months of it to be served in the community on a good behaviour bond.
Human rights activist Helena Hassani said there has been an increase in such oppression of women, often in migrant communities, in Australia.
While there are many cases involving men from Afghan and other migrant communities taking their wives abroad and leaving them there, she said there are also many cases where 'Aussie men marry women from Asia, bring them here, but marry them into servitude, or treat them like sex workers'.
Many women, such as AR's wife, are only in Australia on partner visas, leaving them reliant on their husband's sponsorship to stay in the country.
Some women in these communities are discouraged from using money, getting an education or working outside the home because the men want a 'servant'.
'It's a cultural practice where the less educated women are, the happier men are, because then no one is challenging them, no one is confronting them, and they just live the way they want to live,' Ms Hassani told the publication.
Acting Detective Sergeant Sarah Manning of the Australian Federal Police (AFP) said exit trafficking often goes unreported.
No one has the right to 'cancel' another person's visa, including the visa sponsor,' she said.
'This type of behaviour is a Commonwealth offence and carries a potential 12-year jail term.'
The first exit-trafficking conviction was in 2021, when a man from Lidcombe in western Sydney threatened to murder a woman unless she boarded a flight to India with her infant child.
The horrific interaction was captured on Sydney Airport's CCTV after the anti-human trafficking group Anti Slavery Australia told the AFP what happened.
Anyone with information about potential modern slavery or trafficking is urged to report it to Australian Federal Police on 131 237.
#Exit trafficking#Human trafficking#Traveling with a man#Only a year for leaving his wife in Afghanistan?#Australia#Partner visa#Men marrying impoverished women to have a servant not a partner#Anti Slavery Australia
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wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 3
chapter 2 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 4
pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.
summary: you're at your wits' end with joel. so you have to do something about it.
warnings: 18+. nsfw. mdni. mention of sarah's death. probably absolute filth. some slapping. explicit smut with a plot. softdom!joel. biting. masturbation (m and f). finger sucking. unprotected piv. a bit of ass play. pet names (darling, sweetheart). sir kink. a slight breeding kink. some violence towards the end. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel's and reader's pov.
a/n: buckle up, my friends. i apologise in advance, but this has been coming for the last two chapters lmao. who am i to deny them? no one. all interactions welcome! enjoy and thank you all for reading! <3
w/c: ~3k.
It had been a week since Joel almost lost his mind, and he still couldn’t comprehend what had possessed him to do such a thing. For a split second he had lost control of his own actions and gave in to his yearning. A yearning for human connection he did not know he had. The last few months had been living hell, to say the least.
Every time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, Joel could only see Sarah’s face. Her smile, her warm hugs, her giggles, her vivacity. And then, the light abandoning her eyes, her blank expression, her limp limbs as he would press her dearly against his chest. The desperation he felt then had still not deserted him. He had been a man of God because that was what his family had imparted him, but since Sarah’s death his faith was wavering. Why would God take her away from him? Sarah was an angel sent from above, she should have not suffered such demise. So, either God was a cruel entity, or an imaginary one.
That night Joel did not even attempt to get some rest so decided to do the first night shift instead. They were still at the same cave as it had proved to be a good spot to rest up and plan what their next steps would be. Tommy had suggested they checked out the quarantine zones the government had set up in big cities, but Joel was not so keen on the idea. In the last nine months since the outbreak, they had been witness to too many ungodly acts ― all committed by the living, not so many by the dead.
That was why they were in Ouachita National Forest, further north than what they were a few months ago. They were still debating whether they should head towards Kansas City, Chicago or remain in the wilderness. Although resources were scarcer, so were the clickers. They had not encountered too many people either, which, considering their past experiences, it was a good thing. No one could be trusted anymore.
Joel sat down on a tree stump by the entrance of the cave, rifle on hand. He had his worn-out, unbuttoned military jacket on as temperatures dropped considerably after sunset. The night was so quiet it felt eerie. He could not see anything when he looked up as the treetops fully covered the night sky. He assumed it would be a starry night, clear of clouds. He kept his mind occupied with made-up scenarios to avoid drifting away into Morpheus’ world.
Hours had gone by when Joel heard the slight twitch of a branch from behind him. He rapidly stood up, gripping the rifle with tension. When he turned around and saw you, he clicked his tongue with disdain.
You were too sleepy to pick up on his rude gesture. You stretched your back, which hurt like hell. You had tried to fashion some sort of cushioned bed with leaves and grass, but your makeshift bed was still hard as a rock.
“What time is it?”, you asked grumpily.
“Not sure, around four in the morning?”, he answered without looking at you while he sat back down.
“You have a wristwatch, don’t you know how to read the time?”, you said sneeringly to get some sort of reaction out of him.
“Huh, you’re so fucking funny I’d laugh if I could”, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “It’s broken”.
You looked at him in silence, as you had done many times in the last week. You didn’t understand how this man could kiss you like the world was ending and then, a second later, he would pretend you were nothing more than an annoying moth flying around him.
It infuriated you. He infuriated you.
He was there as if nothing had happened between the two of you, while you just woke up because of a very realistic dream. Or should you say a nightmare? Your body had some unreleased, built-up tension that was damn hard to ignore. You blamed Tommy for interrupting you ― had it not been for him, you might have known what it felt like to be under Joel. Or on top of him.
You shook your head, angry at yourself and at the man in front of you.
“Sure is, I bet they didn’t teach you how to read the time when you went to school, hmmm, when? Back in the 50s?”, you teased again.
He stood up, leaving the rifle on the ground, leaned against the stump.
“Seriously, what is your fucking problem?”, he growled, his fists tightly closed on his sides.
Finally ― a breakthrough.
“My problem?”, you chuckled. “You are my problem, Joel Miller. Are you telling me you have forgotten about what happened a week ago, huh?”, you ventured.
“What happened a week ago was a mistake, that is what it was. I don’t even know what kind of demon possessed me, because I wouldn’t even touch you with a ten-foot pole”, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other.
His words hurt you, but they made you even madder. Who did he think he was anyway?
“You are a fucking mistake. And what you say is complete bullshit. Do you think I have not noticed how you look at me when you believe I’m not paying attention? You pretend you are not interested, but you need a goddamn reality check if you really think so”, you snapped back, the palms of your hands tingling ― you wanted to punch him so bad.
“You are frigging delusional, darlin’. You are the only woman I have seen in the last few months, it’s not like I have much to choose from, do I? It was a desperate move, nothing else. Stop imagining things―”.
That was it. He had crossed a line. So you slapped him to shut him up. His rugged face turned ninety degrees with the force of your blow. His cheek reddened slightly.
And then you grabbed him by the neck of his flannel shirt, forcing down his face towards you so he would not have time to react. You were going to prove him who was right ― and it wasn’t him.
You kissed him, separating his lips with your tongue. You outlined his top teeth with the tip of your tongue and then he let you in. You would have smirked if you could. You mapped out his whole mouth with quick but insisting twirls, Joel following your lead. You helped him remove his jacket.
One of your hands was still holding onto his plaid shirt while the other travelled south. You could swear Joel had stopped breathing, but you distracted him by breaking the kiss and looking at him with intent. His lips were parted and wet with your spit, slightly red. You grazed the prominent bulge on his jeans with the palm of your hand, biting your bottom lip down when he heavily sighed with some relief before he trapped your mouth with his again.
You let go of the flannel shirt to work on the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with some difficulty. Joel groaned loudly when you pulled down from the brim of his jeans to bring them down just below his ass, giving you plenty of access. One of Joel’s hands darted to your neck, circling your throat with the span of his fingers and squeezing lightly. Not to the point where you couldn’t breathe, but to the point where it made the whole experience even more pleasurable.
You moaned while your hand trespassed the elastic of his underwear and dipped your fingers down. You grabbed his manhood, already hard and leaking from the tip. You smiled as your thumb rubbed the precum against his sensitive skin and then slowly started to pump him. You had not seen his cock yet, but judging by the girth of it, you were not to be disappointed. You put some pressure on his shaft before upping the rhythm of the pumps.
“Fuck it, fuck this”, Joel wailed as he broke off the kiss.
For a second, you thought he was going to push you away.
His mind was spinning like a Ferris wheel coming off its hinges. He was mad, utterly mad. He shouldn’t but wouldn’t stop. Not now when you had enticed him this far. His dick was pulsing in your hand, and he was panting like a thirsty dog which had not tasted water in days.
He grabbed your adventurous hand and forced you to take it out of his briefs. Then he pushed you towards a fallen tree nearby. Joel was right behind you, his manhood hard pressed against your ass as he bit your neck, then pecking it where he had marked you. He took off your shirt before you could complain. You wore no bra, so when the cold air touched your sensitive nipples, you sighed. Joel’s hands were resting on your hips, but both quickly moved upwards until they gently cupped both of your breasts. He massaged them with care while he left a path of kisses on the side of your neck.
Then his left hand ventured south at the same time he twirled your right nipple between his fingers. You whimpered audibly when he dunked two fingers in your wet slit. He traced you up and down, your knees trembling with delight. Your cunt was so soft with your own fluids that it felt like velvet. Joel wondered how it would taste if he flattened his tongue against the damp skin and fucked you with his tongue. He groaned at the thought, and instead he paid special attention to your clit with his dextrous fingers. Your back arched, your ass touching his bulge ― you unconsciously wiggled your hips to grind on his cock. Then he tested your entrance with one fingertip, circling it slowly, while your bottom lip was quivering.
“You want this?”, he said in a coarse voice.
You nodded.
“Speak up, sweetheart”, he demanded.
“Yes, please, sir”, you whispered.
You closed your eyes and suspired loudly when his ring finger got greedily engulfed by your dripping hole. He started slowly, then fingered you relentlessly with two digits, to the point where you had to grasp his wrist to steady yourself. He curved them towards the front of your insides, stroking the right spot. You couldn’t help but watch as his fingers disappeared between your soaked folds. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ before you let go and came violently on his fingers. But Joel gave you no truce, he carried on masturbating you until you orgasmed twice more in quick succession with tears in your eyes. Your cunt was gushing for him ― you could feel the trickle of your cum going down your inner thighs. Your knees bended and you almost fell to the floor, but Joel held you by your hips with the firm embrace of his right arm.
“Good girl”, he purred in your ear, offering you his wet left hand.
You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist to hold it in place and sucked on his fingers with wanton need, his digits touching the back of your throat. You showed him explicitly what you would do to his throbbing dick if you had the chance. You licked him clean, tasting yourself on him.
Joel understood exactly what you were doing, feeling the tip of his cock touching his lower belly. He pushed down your trousers and underwear in one swift movement. Joel placed one hand on your back to make you go down on your knees. You kneeled on the ground, and he did so behind you. You put your hands down on the fallen trunk and looked over your shoulder for a minute. Joel had freed his dick, and he was holding it from the base. For a moment you wondered if it would fit, and you bit down your lip at the idea. You felt hypnotised by the sight, pondering how it would feel against your tongue, its glans pushing past your uvula, suffocating you.
“Lean forward for me, darlin’”, he muttered, and you happily obliged with dreamy eyes.
You rested your left cheek against the fallen log in between your hands, ass up in the air. You heard the rustling of leaves as Joel positioned himself right behind you. He placed his hands on your butt cheeks and cracked them open to have a peek. Joel groaned at such blissful picture. He could see your pussy literally throbbing for him, beckoning him like a siren a sailor. What a sight to see, he thought. With a pained huff, he let go of your buttocks and guided the tip of his dick to kiss your entrance. You hissed with pleasure. Finally, you thought. But he didn’t go in ― instead he trailed the tip of his cock along your slick cunt a few times.
“Joel, please, I beg―”.
“Shh”, he hummed at the exact time he went back down to your needy hole and pushed in his tip. Your flesh parted to make way. Your pussy was aching for him, burning to feel him inside. You have never felt this aroused in your life.
He took his sweet time, caressing your clit again as he went in inch by inch until his whole length was inside you. He stayed there for a long minute, letting you get used to him filling you up entirely. Your pussy choked his manhood at irregular intervals ― you just couldn’t control your own muscles anymore. It felt like heaven for both of you.
Then he moved back slowly, his shaft almost slipping out before he pushed back in with brute force. Joel freed your clit from his touch to grab your hips and started fucking you mercilessly. He found a devilish rhythm and you just went along with it. Both of your moans could be heard from yards away, as well as the squelching sounds coming from where you two connected ― luckily for you, Tommy slept like a log.
The roughness of the wood scratched the skin on your cheek, but you didn’t care. It felt too good. Your fingers clutched, trying to hold on to something as your body was being rocked by Joel’s thrusts, an orgasm creeping up on you. And then you came again, almost screaming into the dead of night, like you never came before. You could feel your whole cunt squeezing him uncontrollably, your clit burning with electricity. You felt extremely overstimulated, but you let Joel ride you to find his own release.
Joel’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head ― he had never felt this horny before. This damn woman ―you― was doing something to him, albeit he didn’t know what. He felt your inner walls tightened firmly around his cock and he almost lost it. Every time he locked eyes on where you two met, seeing his shiny dick pulling out of you, he thought you the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
His balls were so tense he feared he was going to spill his seed in you. But he found the last bit of sanity within him ― as much as he would love to claim you for himself, he couldn’t. And so, he pulled out just in time, lodging his shaft between your buttocks. He put his hands on each side of your ass to squeeze his manhood in the fold of your skin. He leaned forward, his chest against your back, to bite you between your shoulder blades before straightening himself again. Joel pumped himself a couple of times in between your buttocks and came on you abundantly. What a waste, you thought out of nowhere.
Both of you stayed in the same exact position for a hot minute, breathing heavily with effort. You were the first one to move, although your limbs felt like jelly. You grabbed some leaves and cleaned the cum off your lower back as Joel watched you avidly.
Joel stood up and pulled up his briefs and jeans, while his mind was racing with doubt. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have let it go this far. What was meant to be a lesson for you, ended up being a lesson for himself too. Concealing his concern, he offered a hand to help you get up. You gladly took it and proceeded to clothe yourself again, being fully conscious of Joel’s hungry gaze.
You smiled at him.
“That was fun―”.
“A mistake”, he cut you off before you could say anything else.
You were left speechless. What did he just say?
“Are you fucking shitting me right now, Joel?”, you shouted at him. “Because if you are joking, I swear to God I will―”, your anger was raising up fast.
“No, I ain’t joking, we shouldn’t have done this. You don’t understand, I’ll just get you k―”.
“JOEL!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs when you suddenly saw a man a few yards behind him.
Before Joel could grab the rifle, a gunshot was heard and impacted on Joel’s right shoulder. He fell to the ground in agony, and you hastened to kneel beside him. Blood was quickly soaking his flannel shirt.
“No, Joel, please―”, then you felt someone pulling your hair back and yelled in pain. “Let go of me, you jerk!”. It was a different man.
The first man who had shot at Joel came towards you. Joel tried to sit up to fight back, but the man with the gun hit him in the head with the grip of the weapon and Joel fell back down on the dirt.
He was not moving. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be. You felt the bile rise up in your throat but managed to hold it.
“Joel, Joel―”, you said with tears running down your cheeks.
“Shut up, bitch”, said the second man before slapping you.
You fought them back with all you had, but in the end, they hit you in the head too, rendering you unconscious, and dragging you away.
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller ff#pedro pascal ff#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller x you#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#tlou#the last of us#ff#pedro pascal character#ppedit#pedropascaledit#ppascaledit#smut
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Can I make a request for an S/O who has a pet that is extremely gruesome and scary, but is very cuddly and protective when interacting with its owner? Like, like the animal was something similar to the Demongorgon or something.
If you can, do it for Sarah, Shenhen, Dehya, Candance and Navia.
(Genshin Impact) Sara, Shenhe, Dehya, Candace, and Navia's S/O with a terrifying pet
I was bouncing between a Tyranid from 40k or a terrifying bug from a user created horror story called Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, but I'll just settle on some non particular bug abomination.
Sara was barely able to hold back from immediately drawing her bow when she walked into S/O's house the first time and saw a massive insect inside.
It nearly stood up to the ceiling as it straightened its back, before relaxing from seeing its owner.
(Sara) "What is that?!"
(S/O) "OH! S-Sorry, I forgot to mention it to you beforehand! This is my pet!"
Sara stared at S/O before her eyes slowly glanced over to the "pet" they kept.
It resembled some kind of centipede with massive antennas, but had arms resembling a...human?!
Sara still kept her battle stance, wearily looking at it before turning to S/O, noticing their relatively happy expression.
(Sara) "...And, this will pose no threat to the people of Inazuma?"
(S/O) "Of course not, he doesn't eat people!"
(Sara) sigh "Thank the Almighty Sho-"
(S/O) "He eats corpses! It's a scavenger bug, not a predator!"
(Sara) "..."
Sara is uneasy around S/O's pet, putting it mildly.
The only place she doesn't allow S/O to cuddle her is at their house.
The one time she allowed them to rest their head on her shoulder, the romantic mood was immediately halted by S/O's pet resting its head on their lap.
Despite how much it unsettled her, she could at least complement its intelligence and loyalty.
When S/O was threatened, it would immediately attack whenever they commanded it to.
It even enjoyed getting pet, though Sara politely declined from doing so herself.
As long as it didn't cause a public disturbance, it was fine to remain.
But Archons help S/O if she gets a report of that...thing threatening a citizen, not even its terrifying and gross legs would skitter away from her wrath.
Shenhe reached for her polearm before realizing the bug was relaxing near S/O.
She had seen all kinds of fantastical sights thanks to her Master, so it didn't really take long for her to adjust.
(Shenhe) "...Is that a pet, S/O?"
(S/O) "Sure is! This little guy has been with me for a long time!"
(Shenhe) "I see. It is good you have a companion."
The bug's head, or at least what she assumed was the head, seemed to lean into S/O's hand as they scratched under the chin.
...Neat.
Shenhe is used to nature, but she had never seen a creature like this before.
But then again, being with S/O taught her all kinds of new things, maybe this was another she should take heed of.
Seeing other people react to the bug, she moves to protect it like she would S/O.
Something that even it recognized, and protected Shenhe like its owner.
The only thing Shenhe dislikes about the bug is how clingy it got whenever she was wanting to spend time with S/O.
Other than that, the bug and Shenhe have a strange silent respect for each other.
(Dehya) "S/O, GET BACK!-"
Dehya suddenly leaps into action when a giant bug-like creature emerged from the sand behind S/O.
Before S/O got in the way, trying (and failing) to keep her arm down.
(S/O) "WAIT, DEHYA! I-It's with me!"
Dehya's expression was something between confusion and anger, quickly looking back at S/O and the bug.
Just as they said, it was just staring at her before turning its attention to its owner.
(Dehya) "Jeez, ya never thought to bring this up to me before?! It looks like it could eat us!"
(S/O) "I-If it makes you feel any better, it's like a vulture! A scavenger eater, only corpses!"
(Dehya) "It really doesn't..."
Dehya is honestly creeped the hell out by S/O's pet.
She's seen a lot of desert fauna, but nothing like what S/O had.
It especially didn't help matters that it liked to hide under the sand until S/O spent time with it.
She especially didn't like that it butted its head in whenever she wanted to hold S/O.
More than one occasion she was ready to tell it off before S/O did so gently, letting it gently comply.
The other mercs are completely freaked out by it, which she doesn't blame them for in the slightest.
But, it did help during their contracts by scaring the hell out of rival clients, other eremites, and animals in general.
Begrudgingly, she let S/O keep it, but then again maybe it's best it remains with them and doesn't wander off in the desert to potentially reproduce.
Candace notices something shifting in the sands near S/O, which she immediately raises her spear to throw at-
Before S/O frantically waved their hands, signaling to her not to attack.
Candace sees the bug emerge from the sand as it gives S/O a lift, riding towards her.
She takes a step back from unease, sizing the bug up and down before turning to S/O.
(Candace) "Have you...tamed this creature?"
(S/O) "K-Kinda? I didn't really tame it per se, more like we became friends!"
Candace did acknowledge it had some kind of intelligence in its eyes, as it responded perfectly to S/O's commands.
Being reassured by S/O that it would not attack the people of Aaru village, or eat the children, she allowed it to stay.
It took a bit for her to get used to it, but she no longer flinches seeing the bug.
It helped that it didn't seem to be naturally part of the desert, since she had never seen anything like it before.
Eventually, it became as much of a guardian of the town as Candace, much to her shock.
When S/O was threatened, the bug leapt from the sands and dragged them under, and the same went for any of the townsfolk.
The only thing she asks is that it sleeps outside, mostly just cause it'd drag sand all over the floor.
(S/O) "HOLY CRAP, GIANT BUG!-"
S/O immediately aims her umbrella-shotgun before S/O stopped her from pulling the trigger.
(S/O) "W-WAIT! NAVIA, IT'S MY PET!"
(Navia) "Your pet?! That thing could eat one of the Clockwork Meka whole!"
She shuddered in terror as it skittered towards S/O, seemingly lax by their mere presence.
This sure as hell wasn't a man's best friend situation, and every cell in her body wanted to shoot it.
But seeing as it was with S/O, she very reluctantly let S/O keep it.
The only thing is that it HAD to stay outside the city and only in S/O's home.
Every single Meka and Guard would be trying to kill it, not that she wouldn't blame them either.
Navia screams in terror everytime she opens the door to find it turn its head towards her.
Why couldn't S/O just have a cat or something...?
Her urge to stomp the bug grows bigger when she moves to hug or kiss S/O, only to watch it approach from seeming jealousy.
#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#sara kujou x reader#shenhe x reader#dehya x reader#candace genshin impact x reader#navia x reader#kujou sara#shenhe genshin impact#dehya genshin#candace genshin impact#navia genshin impact
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"If it works as you say...then perhaps...evacuation will not be necessary!"
"Quite nicely indeed."
With a rare genuine smile, she hands back the charm.
Mason pulled out a bracelet like trinket. "My friend made this for our journey. It's an item that allows the user to change into their opposite form; AKA turn a Villager to look like an Illager and vice versa... He warned us that it has a 15 use limit and that the more it is used, the harder it is to remove it..." He held it up to show Sarah and the Captain. "I've been saving them for an emergency... And considering the circumstances in our situation, this seems like an emergency to me..."
@asktotallyhuman
#habby saraaaah#again forgive any inconscistancies#sarah's arms are supposed to have a bunch of scars all over htem#buti didnt wanna#swear to god i made her head too big in the first one but it's fiiine#it's fiiiine!#yall love my inconsistancy#minecraft#minecraft oc#minecraft ask blog#ask blog#minecraft oc ask blog#oc ask blog#minecraft human#illager arc#rp post#interaction post
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Sakamaki Brothers as Dads Headcanons!
This is in the context of their character development in later games, but I'm still going to try to be accurate to their personalities and try not to over-soften or idealize them
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Shu:
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- Shu struggled to find a balance between gentle discipline and guidance and freedom for his kids, he didn't want them suffocated like he was
- While he's there to help and support, he believes they should learn to work things out on their own. He's not neglectful of their problems but he's a little less hands-on in that regard
- Instead of solving things for them he works with them so they can learn to solve things on their own
- He keeps an eye of them without getting too involved physically like while they're playing or in public
- Though he'll love all his kids equally he really wanted a girl after centuries of being the older brother to 5 brothers
- Though he wants them to be able to take care of themselves, Shu is very protective of them
- He's generally very calm, even when angry
- He'll probably adopt a kitten or puppy for them to raise with him
- When they're young he lets them nap on his chest
Reiji:
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- Strict, but warm and gentle
- He makes sure to give each of his kids equal attention as to not let history repeat itself
- He also wants to prevent his children from having that same animosity and resentment he felt/feels with Shu
- If he managed to make some sort of peace with Shu he'll be okay with them interacting
- He'll take them into the woods and help them take care of and interact with animals
- He's adamant that they'll be vampires, not half-vampire, half-human, so he will absolutely turn his s/o into a vampire. No discussion
- Teaches them what he knows but also helps indulge them in their interests
- Kisses their forehead or heads
- Will check for monsters under the bed or in the closet, but won't let them sleep in bed with him and his s/o, he'll just reassure them there's no monster and give them a nightlight
- They can still hang out with him and his and his s/o's bed just not sleep there overnight
Ayato:
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- He's the fun dad
- But also sometimes the really embarrassing dad
- His son's playing a sport? He's losing his mind in the stands
- His daughter's the lead in a musical? He's clapping obnoxiously and bragging to EVERYONE
- Literally brags about every single one of his children's achievements
- Also the parent with the belief of his children can do no wrong. Like he'll argue with the teacher if one of his kids gets a bad grade
- He was really excited when you got pregnant
- But was secretly really worried
- He kind of idealized it at first, underestimating the difficulties of raising a kid and how much work infants are
- Was legitimately surprised at how long it would take for them to walk or talk
- At first he was entirely against any sort of discipline because he didn't know what discipline was, he didn't know you could be a good loving parent and discipline your child without mistreatment or abuse
- As far as he knew, discipline was abuse
- Very protective and possessive, especially with his daughter/s
- Sometimes fights with his kids over his s/o's attention or the last bite of food
- He'll always give them to last bite of food
Kanato:
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- He loves them the way he loves his s/o, it's genuine love but it's also very possessive love. He loves them as possessions
- Kanato can be surprisingly verbally loving in the games so he'll be like that with his kids, giving them compliments and telling them how much they mean to him like he does with Yui
- He'll stroke their hair and have tea parties
- They can't have Teddy but they can touch and talk to him
- He'll make them their own stuffed animal and they'll be allowed to name them Teddy Junior if they want to
- Kanato really likes dressing up his daughter/s like pretty dolls, he'll get disappointed if she doesn't like it but may come to tolerate/accept that's not who she is
- Not very interested in changing diapers, but will be present there, just not doing the actual action, more support and company
- He does hold them and rock them and he will take over so his s/o gets rest
- Extremely possessive. They are his and s/o's only. He's not even happy that they're related to his brothers
- If he has a good enough relationship with his brothers though he may tolerate them interacting
Laito:
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- He was excited to be a dad, but really worried
- Laito was sure to properly teach his children love
- Laito was really wary of who he allowed his kids to be near or alone with. He got it into his head that any adult might try to hurt or abuse them and for a while he was insanely over-protective
- He hated letting them out of his sight and even into their teenage years he had familiars following them
- A really playful dad
- Surprisingly good at discipline. Never in an abusive way of course, but he's surprisingly good at it and willing to teach them to behave
- Hates the idea of his daughter/s getting a boyfriend
- He will allow his children to play dress up with him, paint his nails, etc
- He'll play toys with them
- He's actually a very responsible father and all his brothers were really surprised
Subaru:
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- Subaru started out TERRIFIED
- How could he possibly be a good parent? His parents weren't and he still thinks he's a horrible monster
- Finally agrees to get therapy for his anger issues
- He was at first terrified to touch or hold his first child after they were born because he was scared he'd pollute them
- All his kids after that he was able to hold and interact with because he was able to get over that fear
- He turned out to be quite the natural
- Fiercly protective
- Still a bit of a tsundere, but is very open with his love
- Can barely resist their begging or cute little pleading faces
- Like Laito he often sends his familiars after them and doesn't like them being out of his sight, especially as children
- Loved taking care of them as babies, he found bathing and feeding and rocking them really relaxing
- It reminded him of all the good and love in the world and he never wanted his children to feel unloved by him
- Lets them cling onto his arms and he'll lift his arm to hold them up
- Puts his hand on their heads affectionately
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I hope you like this!
Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated my loves ❤️❤️❤️
Mukami Brothers Version 👇🏻
#diabolik lovers#diabolik lovers fandom#diabolik lovers headcanons#ayato sakamaki#shu sakamaki#laito sakamaki#subaru sakamaki#kanato sakamaki#reiji sakamaki#sakamaki brothers#sakamaki laito#sakamaki ayato#sakamaki reiji#sakamaki subaru#sakamaki shu#sakamaki kanato#diabolik lovers shu#diabolik lovers laito#diabolik lovers subaru#diabolik lovers reiji#diabolik lovers kanato#diabolik lovers ayato#shuu sakamaki#sakamaki shuu#diabolik lovers shuu#raito sakamaki#diaboys#diabolik brothers#dialovers shu#dialovers subaru
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BELONG TO YOU - two
pairing; ellie williams x fem!reader
warnings and tags; dealer!ellie, reader being shy and anxious, and literally not knowing how to talk to someone lol, weird dude being kinda creepy but hes barely there, joel is alive in this and ellie's biological father, sarah is alive too, mentions of jealousy, very slight allusions to smut, overall mostly fluffy
author's note; i'm still so floored by the amount of love u guys have shown the first part, thank you so so much. i hope you have fun with this!! also don't mind any typos i need to beta read tomorrow i just wanted to get it out lol
one
You feel stupid.
It’s friday night and the hallways are filled with people leaving their rooms to leave for parties and gatherings. You make your way upstairs to your floor and know that you will feel much better when you’re in your room, either continuing to study or lay down in your bed and do nothing but sleep. Your roommate is out at a party so you have some time for yourself, not that she’s often in your room to begin with. When you reach your door and look into your bag, there’s a second where you freeze.
It was just a few hours earlier that you were packing your notebook from your desk into your bag and took out your keys to make room when your mind wandered off to the encounter you had just three days earlier. The way this strange girl had just talked to you like it was nothing, smiled at you so sweetly and looked so fucking pretty had your mind spinning nonstop. You couldn’t stop thinking of her, no matter what you were doing… It was the first time in such a long time that someone simply spoke to you as a friend and you were desperately clinging on to the idea of talking to her again. In all that daydreaming, you hadn’t put your keys back into your bag and left them on your desk.
Since your roommate isn’t there either, she had locked the door when she left so there was no chance of getting into your room until the early morning hours when she would come back. You sigh deeply at your own stupidity and somewhat feel like crying when you realize that you don’t have anywhere else to go. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and simply choose to sit down on the ground next to the door for now. You let your bag fall to the ground next to you and lean your head against the wall, closing your eyes for a few seconds to drown out the noises you hear from the staircase. You want nothing more than to be in your bed and sulk at your loneliness and maybe dream more of the girl that plagues your thoughts. You see people coming down and up from the staircase and enter your hallway, most of them coming up to the door next to yours. You watch as a few of them knock on the door and are let in by someone you don’t see and leave again just a minute later with a little bag in their hands. You suddenly realize that the door they knock on and the room they enter is Ellie’s.
You know that Ellie is pretty popular around campus, mostly because people know her for selling weed. You don’t really know what to think of that, never having tried drugs or have the desire to do so. All you know is that despite the reputation that Ellie might have, you know that she’s a nice and kind person. To you, at least. In that one time you ever talked to her.
You shake your head at your naive thoughts and take one of your textbooks out and begin to read a section about the geology of oceans, not really reading but only thinking more and more of the conflict in your head. You feel so stupid for letting yourself get so invested in Ellie and the way she had talked to you, how easily she had talked to you and smiled at you. It was naive and stupid of you to get so invested into the one interaction you had with her but how couldn’t you? You’re desperate for affection and attention, just like every other human and you receive so little of it. Taking another deep breath to calm down, you try to concentrate on the book in your lap. From the corner of your eyes, you see a boy knock on Ellie’s door, looking like he’s headed to a party. You notice him staring at you but pointedly ignore his gaze, staring down at your book and at the words in front of you. The door opens and he’s let in and it takes every ounce of self restraint to look up and get a glimpse of Ellie. God, how could you let yourself be so entranced by this woman?
Ellie hands Jake his two packs of weed and takes the money offered to her in return. Friday nights are always some of her busiest times since most people come to get weed to smoke with their friends at parties on the weekend. He must be her last one however since it’s late and Dina and her other friends are already waiting for her. Jake thanks Ellie but before he opens the door, he turns around to her with a smug grin.
“That’s a cute ass neighbor you got, Williams.” He’s out of the door before Ellie can respond in any way and she frowns as he leaves the door open, not bothering to close it. Who the hell is he talking about? She walks up to the door to close it when she sees you sitting on the ground across your door, a book in your hand and looking up at her like a deer caught in headlights. She almost wants to run down the hall and strangle Jake for calling you cute. She doesn’t know why.
You’re not sure how to react when Ellie suddenly stands at the door and looks at you in surprise. She must think that you’re weird for sitting in front of your door and you almost wish that she hadn’t come to the door, that she would have pretended not to see you because this is pretty embarrassing for you. Her gaze goes from surprised to soft and… endeared? No, you’re reading into it, that’s definitely not how she’s looking at you.
“Hey. What are you doing here in the hallway?” Ellie leans on the doorframe and crosses her arms in front of her chest and the pose makes you feel… something. It’s as if she’s radiating this power, a natural dominance that she simply holds within herself. You feel totally normal about this.
“Uh, my… roommate is at a p-party. And I, uh… forgot my keys.” There’s a second where you feel like bashing your head against the wall behind you because of the way you speak. It just makes you so incredibly nervous because you’re so unused to interactions like this. Maybe the fact that it’s Ellie talking to you makes you nervous too… She’s so gorgeous and sweet and it makes your head dizzy to think that you’re talking to her.
“Oh, damn, that sucks.” She looks at you in empathy and then opens her mouth again to say something but no sound comes out. It’s as if she hasn’t come up with what she wants to say yet and it makes your heart clench because it makes her look so cute. “Do you… wanna come inside? You don’t need to sit out here the whole time and I doubt your roommate will come back soon. Besides, I wanted to show you my drawings.”
Your breath hitches and you stare up at her and try not to look like you want to bolt and run away. The idea of being in Ellie’s room and hanging out with her makes you feel excited and anxious all at once and the mixing of those two feelings is… definitely something. You try your best to put on a small smile and nod your head.
“Y-yeah, sure.” You’re scared that you will squeal like a schoolgirl if you say anything else. You put your book back into your bag and sling it over your shoulder as you stand up, giving Ellie another smile as she moves away for you to enter her room. Her scent hits you as you enter the room and you feel embarrassed about how you subtly smell as much as you can of her. She closes the door behind you and you look around the room, her beautiful drawings displayed all over it. There were many different ones of landscapes, people or animals, some of them colored and some not. They were hung all over the walls of her room and you admire how brave she is for letting her art be openly displayed. You step closer to a drawing of a man on a porch with a guitar in his hand. The drawing is one of the more simpler ones, not colored in and seemingly ripped from a journal page. You hear Ellie come up next to you and turn your head to her and smile at the way she looks at the drawing fondly.
“That’s my dad. I went easy on him, he looks ten years older than he is in the drawing.” You giggle at her comment, the sound coming out easier now that she’s heard it from you before. The way she had looked at the drawing had tugged at something in your chest… It’s similar to the feeling you got when you felt jealous over someone having a good relationship with their parents. You know it’s stupid to get jealous over something like that but you can’t help it, the squeeze of your heart is not something you wish for but it appears all the same. It feels different with Ellie, though… you don’t feel jealousy or envy, more like happiness. Happiness that she has a father in her life that seems to be good to her and that she loves. She deserves it, you think. She’s simply too cute to get jealous over.
“You… You’re very talented. Your drawings are all very pretty.” You take one last look at the drawing of her father and briefly wonder if he ever taught Ellie how to play the instrument. You’re sure she would be talented at that too. You continue to look at the other drawings and recognize her friend Dina from one of them.
“Thank you. It’s just something I do for fun and I enjoy it a lot.” You miss the way Ellie blushes over your compliment as you trace your eyes over a colored painting of a forest, the greenery of the trees and grass and blue of the lake so beautiful to look at. Your eyes wander down to her desk where she has a big collection of different comics sitting. You let your bag drop down to the ground as you reach down to take a closer look, curious about what Ellie likes to read.
She watches you with a small smile, her heart feeling like it will leap out of her chest at the way you pay attention to every detail of her drawings and comics. Ellie has never felt like this before, she barely knows you and yet feels so drawn to you in a way she never has before. She’s had a few relationships before but she’s never felt about any of her girlfriends the way she feels about you. You may be shy and reserved but the small smiles you would give her are enough to make her feel weak in the knees. She’s interrupted from staring when her phone buzzes in her pocket and she suppresses a annoyed huff as she pulls it out and checks the message Dina had sent her.
did u fall down the stairs or are u on your way to the party
Shit. The fucking party. She looks up from her phone to see you browse through the first volume of Savage Starlight and read it enthusiastically. You have a smile on your face as you read and your eyes are slightly squinted as you read and her heart does what feels like an acrobatic trick. She shakes her head and quickly texts back.
nope, not coming. got someone else to spend my time with who’s a thousand times cuter than sweaty drunk college girls
She quickly puts her phone on silent before sliding it back in her pocket. When she looks up, you have a bright smile on your face as you read the words and god, Ellie just feels like she needs to wrap you up in a blanket and keep you forever. You look up from the comic and at her, a sudden apologetic look on your face.
“I hope I’m not interrupting your night or something. I… I can leave if you have somewhere to be.” You try to hide the disappointment in your voice and suddenly feel so stupid for being here. She probably has a thousand better things to do than hang out with you in her room on a friday night.
“No, you’re not, got nothing planned. Besides, I invited you. I want you here.” The words leave Ellie’s mouth before she can stop them but for some reason, she doesn’t regret them. Yes, it might be embarrassing to say this when it’s only the second time you’re meeting her but she can’t really bring herself to care. You seem sweet but also very anxious so she would take on any embarrassment she might face in order for you to feel comfortable around her. Your eyes widen at her words and you feel dizzy at the words, from pain and from happiness. No one has ever said something like that to you or made you feel like they wanted you around. But she does. For whatever reason, this pretty, talented and funny girl wants you around and wants you here, in her room. It makes you feel so warm in your chest. You managed to nod and hide the incoming smile on your face.
“I… I want to be here too. With you.” You hope that you said the last two words so softly that she didn’t hear them. She smiles at your answer and looks down at the ground with blushy cheeks and oh my god, she’s so cute, I want to bite her cheeks. Your eyes widen a bit at your thoughts and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from actually doing it. Ellie looks up again and gestures for you to sit down on the couch that she comes to sit down on. You sit down next to her, still putting some distance between you but you can’t help but crave her closeness. You remember the way she had touched your cheek, her caress so soft and gentle. You wonder briefly what you would have to do for her to do that again.
“So, now you can see why I’m doing fine arts. You have to tell me why you’re into marine biology now.” The way Ellie speaks has you transfixed, your eyes looking more at her lips than anything else. You like the way she speaks so much and her voice is soothing to your ears. You wonder if besides possibly playing guitar, she also knows how to sing. It wouldn’t surprise you since she really seems to be multi talented.
“Uh, well, I-I grew up close to the ocean and often spend my time at beaches and with animals there. Was just always something that I was interested in, I guess. I also didn’t know what else I should do… So I went with this.” You stutter slightly as you speak and nervously play with your fingers as you speak. You try to hold eye contact as much as possible but it doesn’t really work since you have to keep looking away from her. God, she probably thinks I’m a weirdo. Can’t even talk about something so normal without being nervous.
“That’s nice. Must be cool growing up by the beach. I wouldn’t know, having grown up in a desert.” She chuckles lowly and the sound makes your head slightly spin. You raise your brows questioningly and she smiles at you, making you feel weaker than ever before.
“I grew up in Texas with Dad and my sister, Sarah. We later moved to Wyoming and now I’m here. Been living in deserts all my life… You wouldn’t know the things I’ve seen.” She says the last part dramatically and it makes you giggle a little. It makes you wonder if she’s like this with everyone… Truthfully, you expected her to be a much different person due to her being a drug dealer but she has been nothing but kind and sweet to you. Shouldn’t judge people so quickly.
You try to hide it but there’s a small sound that leaves your mouth as you yawn. You had been up early for a specific class and it was close to midnight now. Mentally you curse your roommate for leaving you stranded even if she’s not responsible.
“Oh, you must be tired. Come on, you can sleep on my bed, sleepy head. Your roommate won’t be back until the morning anyway.” You watch as she stands up and walks over to her bed in the corner. You stand up as you watch her pull the blanket on top away.
“No, Ellie, that’s really not necessary. I… I can just sleep on the couch.” You try to sound convincing but Ellie doesn’t seem to listen to your words. She turns back to you when the bed is ready and her eyes are still fond but serious in a way you haven’t seen before.
“You will sleep on my bed and I’ll take the couch, pretty girl. Unterstood?" The hairs on your arms stand up at the sound of her authoritative voice and you swear, you feel something deeply exciting and daring. Her words make you feel like a docile pet and the nickname doesn’t make things any better. You can’t do anything else but nod as you look at her hazily. She nods in approval and in that moment, you would get on your knees to get her approval. You swallow heavily as she walks to the couch with a blanket and pillow, setting up her sleep space quickly. You quickly get under the covers and drag the blanket up to your chin, desperately hiding your blushy cheeks. Ellie turns the light down and lays down as well. She looks back up for a second and wishes you a goodnight before lying back down again, her back turned to you.
You only then notice the scent on the pillow you’re laying on and almost want to moan at how much you’re enveloped by her wonderful smell. Along with the way her voice had sounded just minutes ago, it really didn’t help in how plagued your mind is by her.
You fall asleep like that, her smell in your nose, her voice on your mind and your hand wedging itself between your thighs.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams fluff#ellie x reader#ellie williams imagine#belong to you#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you
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godless promethean, elektran rage.
navigation: masterlist
pairing: pirate!joel miller x siren!reader
word count: ~8.4k words (I KNOW I'M SO SORRY)
summary: when the wrath of poseidon brings in something not quite human, a hardened pirate with the harshness of a soldier at war faces a bright-eyed siren with the delusion of a dreamer.
warnings: this is a DARK, EXPLICIT fic. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT or i will BLOCK you. so much plot, pirate!au, siren!au, joel is a violent motherfucker, reader is a metamorphic creature that turns human-like when not submerged in water, graphic depiction of violence and injury, mentions of abduction and implications of abuse, explicit p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, soooo much murder. it's like a greek tragedy without the incest.
note: THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS!!! much of this work was inspired by me rereading the odyssey by homer, but the trope of joel x siren!reader is not of my own making! thank you so much for reading, and as always, comments and reblogs are much apprciated!
Be strong, saith my heart. A wave crests over the hull of the ship. Then another. And another. I have seen worse things than this. Synchronized hands haul the rope for the sails, a last attempt to regain control of their vessel. The Balkan sea stretches before weary sailors, endless and unforgiving, with one foot in their watery grave and the other clawing to live.
In the midst of this carnage is The Flounder, harbinger of chaos, populated by a crew of men who pillage, murder, and destroy anything that gets in their way. Joel once thought of him and his men as indestructible. The Wrath of Poseidon makes him reconsider otherwise.
“Goddamnit, Bonnie, we’re never gettin’ out of this mess!” Joel yells over the deluge of rain, tightening his grip and growling as the rope digs in to the skin of his palms. He sees another wave crest over them, sturdy as a wall, coming down upon their shivering backs, leaving them spluttering out seawater. He coughs momentarily, heaving in air as he digs his feet into the deck.
When he regains his breath, he hears his name being called. He looks, their Captain bellowing from where he steered. His new orders came through in the middle of the crack of thunder and the whistle of an unending storm. Check beneath the deck for damages. Fix anything that could sink them. He calls for someone to replace his hold and he runs for it.
In his head, he had begun to pen a letter back to his waiting daughter under the care of his brother. Dear Sarah, he thinks, climbing down the ladder and finding himself in knee-deep, ice-cold water. I promised you that this will be my last expedition. That after this, we shall live out however you want us to. I only hope that I can live up to that promise. He cusses under his breath when he finds a growing leak in the hull, crossing himself as he immediately went about to fix it temporarily with what materials he could find. You’re safer with your uncle Tommy than here in this misery. And should anything happen to me, know that I love you and I trust you to be good to him, too. He crosses the threshold to see if there was anything else, moving across floating bottles, bobbing up and down with remnants of booze. With a sigh, isolated from the chaos above deck, he leans against a column, grabbing a drifting bottle and swallowing down the booze to settle his nerves.
I grow old, I grow old. He mouths the words under his breath. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
The muffled sounds of the world melts away as he tries to catch his breath, gritting his teeth from the ache in his hips. Getting too old for this. He tries to think of a way that rest can be comfortable in this mess. Sleep, he thinks, delicious and profound. The very counterfeit of death. It is only when his nerves settle that he hears it.
A splash in the common room. Too loud to be some drifting object. Something that continues to move against the motion of the ship between the waves. He stills himself, the empty bottle slipping between his fingers. Slowly, he moves closer to the source of the sound, like a predator stalking his prey in the darkness. He retrieves a drifting harpoon, peeking through the threshold of the room to inspect. In the semi-darkness, interrupted by the flickering of lanterns and dying candelight, he catches the shimmer of something alive. He raises his weapon, looks through his good eye, his brows crinkling at the effort to focus.
Too old and too goddamn blind for this shit.
He blinks a few times more before he finally sees. And what he sees is you.
Your lithe arms reaching against the walls of the ship, trying to find a weak link that could let you escape. Were you brought in by the waves? Were you the very thing responsible for the leak he just had to fix? Initially, Joel made the movement to speak, to ask how you had ended up here—the sea is no place for a maiden like you. But his breath hitches when he looks closer to see… well, you. The incandescent flickering of a scaled tail, blending with inhuman yet somewhat human skin around your hips, and your upper body, glorious, unmarked, and completely fucking naked.
Perhaps it was the months at sea, conversing with no one but the same crew of men who, despite their intelligentsia and capabilities, do not exactly have the looks capable of producing in him the flustering exhilaration of some teenager. But he, of all people, know of the stories, too. The whispers shared in the saloons in the darkness. The shared thrill and excitement of such beauty and danger lurking beneath the temptresses’ skins. He has heard of claws coming for his companions’ throats, have heard of the trickery they can cause with the power of the ocean entirely at their disposal. He thinks of Odysseus again— tethered to the mast of his ship, The only one of his men to hear the voice of the sirens and have survived. Odysseus, who would have laid his life down just to come close to the very presence of something so divine.
Another thing he knows is that the price of one siren is half the bounty they had planned for. Months of work cut out for himself. Months closer to seeing his daughter again. It’s enough to give him the taste of freedom. His own little piece of heaven that, ironically, is someone else’s hell. The funny thing was, he does not feel guilt about it.
Perhaps he was not Odysseus. He was not as noble. Nor did he ever want to be. A noble character would never provide a good life for his Sarah, waiting for him oceans away.
That was the decision that sealed the creature’s fate before him. Without a second thought, he fires his harpoon, the sharp head piercing through the creature’s shoulder as an angelic wail emanates from her precious throat. With her pinned down, he had begun yelling, calling for the presence of men to see what they’ve caught in their vessel. Their ticket to riches. The honeypot herself.
The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.
He swallows down the guilt as the thunder of heavy steps descend upon their victim, her screams only growing louder and louder amidst the exhilarated, disbelieving laughter of his companions. He does not dare to look. Does not dare to see those doe eyes of yours begging for respite, pulling him into your charms.
An eye of an eye. A good life for Sarah in exchange for hers.
Fair enough.
—-
When The Flounder has escaped the barrages of the storm, the sea is quiet. Some would even say peaceful. Joel wouldn't exactly use that word. Not when he hears your wails breaking the silence. That first night, no one understood what needed to be done. No one even bothered to try and treat your wound. The very wound he had caused. Everyone had something more important to do. Clear the seawater beneath the hull, secure the sails, have a quick meal, get a few winks of sleep. Naturally, the mythical being, as all other inconsequential things, were tucked away, you dealt with the usual brusque nature of men.
So when he had been called to watch you before dawn broke, that's what he set his mind to. Stepping down beneath the deck, with spare scraps of cloth and booze in hand. They've cleared out the flooding. But the wood hadn't dried completely. Mick, who he had passed beforehand, gave him a questioning look. "Aren't ya scared she'd rip your throat out?"
He scoffs, tilting his head to the side as he speaks. "I'm more scared of the stench she'll make if she starts dyin' on us, Micky."
What he did not expect when he opens the closet you've been locked in is the metamorphic cross between a tail and legs you kick out at him. What he hears next is the snarl, your body knocking him over, small, webbed hands slipping around his throat. “You asshole!” That same heavenly voice, filled with so much malice that does not fit with the angelic features towering over him. You speak in a language he does not understand, a torrent of words driven by so much emotion that he sees a glance of what Homer was so distasteful about. You could kill him, devour him bones and all and you wouldn’t even flinch.
However, he sees how your rage blinds you, too. Blinds you to his precise movements, making you think you’ve subdued him, only to suddenly flip your positions, pinning you down by your wrists, trying to look into your eyes.
What you see, staring up at him as your last yells escape you, is the strands of silver in his hair. What follows next is his tired eyes. A sea of stories that you feel as if you can almost hear them if the world is quiet enough. However, you cannot deny the warmth to them. The fire that you failed to see in the other men that shoved you in the closet you have been suffocating in. It’s what makes you stop in your struggle as you finally hear his voice.
“Damnit, let me help you, honey, c’mon…”
It’s then that Joel finally comprehends what he sees. You, a mythical being that shifts from merfolk in one instance, to a walking goddess in the next. Perhaps it was what helped your kind survive; camouflaging yourself and disappearing amidst throes of people. “You turn when ya… when…?”
You swallow, breathless and trembling as you grit your teeth. He sees the panic in your eyes, the idea that he can just betray you if he wanted to. If it would benefit him.
“Let me help you, darlin’.”
“W-when I’m…” You breathe in sharply. “When I’m not in water.”
He nods, slowly, watching the lithe legs and your bare body, spotless and perfect in every way. “I see.” He removes himself from you, moving away from your periphery. You gather your breath, turning over to see him, kneeling over an upturned washtub, somewhat filled with some form of water or another. “Those men up there? They can’t see you like this, otherwise…” he trails off, preferring not to picture what they’d do. What they’ve all once done before at sea. “Ya hear me?” He looks back at you, watching the way your hands gripped your bleeding shoulder wound, evidence of what he had already done to you. “You don’t know what else they can do to a pretty girl like ya.”
So, gently, he kneels beside you with a pained groan from the ache in his knees. You flinch under his touch and he gives you a stern look. “Why did you do this?”
He shakes his head, opening the bottle he brought down with him to pour it over the gaping flesh. Your soft fingers grip on to his arm, the softest whine escaping your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re not the only one fightin’ to survive in this world, honey.” He shushes you gently, moving to wrap what pieces of cloth he could find, using them to bandage your wound as you finally soften in his hold. He helps you into the tub, and he tries not to look into your eyes again.
You spoke again when he turned away, giving you the privacy he assumed you needed. “Just because you need to survive doesn’t mean I need it any less.” He stops in his tracks, looking down for a moment before clearing his throat. “Are men always this wretched? That one must tear down the innocent to survive?” He moves to answer, turning back momentarily, before sighing, turning back to continue cleaning up the mess. “Thank you, though. For… this.”
You know exactly how to describe it. You just don’t want him to hear it. The gentleness that comes, not in the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.
Joel hears the noise in his head, clouding his thoughts and drowning them out as he moves from one place to another.as he tries not to think about you, quiet in a tub of water, pretending to ignore him. Men are so quick to blame the gods…
He hands you a plate of scraps. The trimmings from a loaf of bread. A slice of some meat, and the last pieces of cheese he could find. “Eat,” he orders gruffly, moving to sit by the side of your tub, while he seats himself with a slice of bread. “Can’t have ya dyin’ of starvation either.”
You obey, weakened by the struggles of the evening, disheartened by your imprisonment, so close to freedom and at the same time so far away from it. You eat slowly, as if considering each little fragment you were handed, as if the world is unfamiliar in the presence of someone else.
Joel couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was your charm. Whatever it was, he started to tell you things.
He tells you of his life, so far away from the ocean, landlocked. He tells you how they make a living with animals. But he also tells you about Sarah. Sarah who dreamt of the world. Sarah who he was doing all this for. Sarah who asked him as a child to read to her every night. Sarah who was growing more and more with each passing day, the gap between the two of them becoming wider than he could ever comprehend.
“My survival may not mean much,” he says, “but hers is the most vital thing in my life, doll.”
He feels your gaze on him, becoming easier and easier to see as the sun slowly grows higher in the sky. In thirty minutes, his watch will end, and you do not know how the next man will treat you next. Will he be kind? Will he have Joel’s eyes?
He turns to leave, taking the plates with him as he stands up with a pained groan. “Don’t cause too much trouble, girl.” He only stops when you say his name, his gaze catching the blurry image of you, your tail sinking beneath you in the tub. “Yeah?”
“Will you read to me when you return?” you whispered, afraid to show fragility in your own internment.
He nods after a moment of thought, clambering up on deck to report back to the Captain.
Men are so quick to blame the gods.
—
For a while, a week or so, you believed things could be nice with Joel somewhat in your corner. Everyone else seemed to care less or cower in fear of you. Maybe because you do try to scare them away. At least, if you were going to be betrayed, it was Joel doing the betraying.
He returned at the same time just as he did the night before. And slowly, a routine emerges. He cleans your wounds, he feeds you whatever he finds. Then he reads to you. His eyes are too weak to read without you holding the lantern. So you learned that second night to emerge from your tub and to hold the lantern for him. He reads to you with the skilled words of a bard. He reads to you as if he’d read this tale before. Perhaps to Sarah? Perhaps to someone else?
You feel your stomach curdle at the thought of there being someone else in his life. You swallow down the bile and listen more closely.
When he leaves at dawn, you lie in the tub, dreaming of the words he had read to you, turning your back to the man that comes next. They do not bother you. You do not bother them. You become a ghost until he brings you to life.
Sing to me, Muse, of the Man of many wiles.
By the third night, he brings with him a blanket for you to wrap yourself in as you sit closer beside him, trying to follow the words he read, only to surrender because the letters are too rigid, too unnatural. You began shutting your eyes as he reads to you, learning of Odysseus, a once too familiar name you have heard in others of your kind before…
Sing to me, Muse, of these matters. Daughter of Zeus,My starting point is any point you choose.
You begin to talk to him too by the fourth night, observing your transformed toes as he hammered little areas he figured needed repairs. You tell him of the world beneath the waves, the languid distances you’ve traveled, never truly feeling as if you have found a home. You tell him, too, of wonders big and small.
You spoke of all these things, pretending to be unaware of the way he listens with such interest. It’s like you wanted him to be interested. How could you not, when night by night his eyes become warmer and warmer whenever they fell upon you? How could you not when he’s the only one that cared?
You try to read his thoughts, sometimes, when it’s quiet and he prefers to sit by himself, finding a few winks of sleep while you ate your food. He’s rather good at hiding them. You wonder if it makes his life easier. You wonder if any of it is easy for him.
Then he asks you something on his fifth watch.
“Is the whole singin’ thing somethin’ you actually do?”
You turn your head over your shoulder, setting down the snowglobe you’ve taken an interest in the last couple of hours. You saw it on a shelf this afternoon. And you had been impatient for Joel to arrive ever since. You consider the question, Then you smile and nod meekly.
“Do…” you pause, moving to face him instead. “Do you want to hear?”
He smirks, moving the chair closer to your seated frame, seating with the backing pressed to his front, legs straddling the seat, arms atop, covering that sliver of chest you had been sneaking glances from all evening. He had that thin linen shirt on again— the one that swoops down his chest. The one you see in your dreams.
“Only if it won’t kill me, sweet cheeks.”
You like that. Sweet cheeks. You barely understand what it means. You nod slowly, moving to lay on your back as you stare at the ceiling, monotonous and unchanged since you last looked. As you sing, you try not to look him in the eye. As if you cannot bear the sight of him seeing your capabilities and forever changing his perception of you. The hymn is warm, almost homely. A relentless Odyssey that means to take you home. A song that’s said to bring forth memories of home. You know Joel does not understand the language. Nor do you want him to. You won’t admit it, but you’re still terrified of what he could do if you remind him of how much he misses his home.
But what is even more surprising is this: instead of reminiscing about the tropics from which you have loved so deeply, all you can think about is him. All you can picture is his face. All you can see is possibilities of how he’s looking at you now.
When you finish, dawn is already breaking over the horizon. He has to go.
Quietly, you rose and slowly return to the tub with your snowglobe, watching as your body metamorphosizes— your last line of defense for survival. The shine of your scales so familiar, but never this clear under the water. The light is always so diffused— as distant as a foreign planet. Joel, on the other hand, stays there for a few minutes more, looking at the spot where you just were—at the plank of wood bearing the wet shape of your body. You started to think maybe he won’t leave when he swallows, rising from where he sat, and approaching you to hand the cheese he couldn’t eat from his portion of the meal.
“I quite enjoyed that,” he confesses, tucking the food into your palm. Just then, he encloses your hand in both of his, taking a moment to savor the feeling of your cool, changed skin against his. He wonders momentarily if you’ll feel different without your tail. “Thank you.”
He leans down, bringing your hand up to his waiting mouth, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. A shiver runs down your spine as you comprehend the sensation. His lips. How warm he is… the scruff of his beard against smooth skin. You feel him smirk against your hand, pulling away as he makes his way above deck.
And on your hand is the reddened skin that evidenced the smidgen of affection you were giving. And for now, it’s enough.
You turn your back to the world once more and into your own dream world, staring at your hand as you dream of Joel all morning long.
—
You suppose everything that goes around does eventually come around. You wonder why you're so optimistic. But, you supposed, just as things were getting better, the fates had other plans in store for you.
The call came just as you were coming of the stupor of sleep. From what you can tell, it was barely midday, and someone was yelling above where you resided. All hands on deck.
The thunderous noise of heavy feet trundle above head. The man watching you grumbled, muttering something along the lines of, "don't you dare think about running, li'l bitch."
You watch him slam the door, and curiosity gets the better of you. You rise slowly from the tub, slinking along the floor, struggling to lift yourself enough to peer out from one of the windows. But when you do, you've come to realize the gravest sin of your naivety.
There is a ship to be plundered. Slowly, the masks worn by the men where you are melt away. You see familiar men with their swords drawn, laughing maniacally, screaming and terrifying the ship they've found to appease their hunger.
You feel your body changing, and you begin to turn away from the window when you catch sight of silver hair and scruff. A visage that you finally see in broad daylight.
Joel is one of the men who almost seem to dance to the song of violence. Perhaps the stories were true. Perhaps the secrets of the shadows are laid bare in the light. Even Joel's secrets cannot escape the midday sun. When you see him, he is in battle with some toughened fisherman, their duel witnessed by cowering passengers and well-dressed women. For a moment, you think Joel will come to his senses, see how senseless all this violence is.
But then he takes the man by his hair, holding his head and facing him to the sun. His sword arches across the expanse of his victim's neck, rivulets of blood bursting forth in gush, an unstoppable stream. A squeal escapes you, the violent image burnt into the recesses of your brain, forcing you away from the window.
You run on shaky legs, screaming and yelling, reaching the doorway and attempting to push the door open, only to find resistance. Your fists pound the hard wood, your body pushing and shoving, unable to accept the fact that you can't call to him— show him that you saw and you demand an answer why.
For the first time, ever since Joel shot you with a harpoon, you truly understood something you tried so hard to ignore.
You sleep under the shelter of murderers. You think you felt affection from the hands of a man who just as easily took someone's life away. You are only loved because you're something else. Something not human.
You are only loved because you'll ensure their survival.
—
The blade itself incites the deeds of violence.
When the carnage ended, Joel raised his head to see the sky beginning to paint itself in bolder strokes of colors. He stretches his arms, only to feel the sticky plasma of drying blood sticking to his arms, his torso, spotting the expanse of his face. He is the last to leave their conquered ship, and he takes his time. He walks along the scattered piles of bodies, putting whoever hasn't perished out of their misery with the very same blade he wielded in battle. He's alive. He can go home. He watches the revelry on their vessel: men roasting the spoils from the kitchen, barrels upon barrels of ale and mead slowly being chewed through.
The stage is set. All they need is a little shock of entertainment.
But what he worries about is you. You who probably cowered from fear at the sudden influx of noise. You who definitely saw the things they are capable of doing. You with the wound on your shoulder, healing at a snail's pace with your imprisonment. So, he takes the time to find supplies to help you. He finds antiseptic. He finds needle and thread. It will have to do.
When he returns to his ship, He has spread oil across the deck where the bodies lay. With one bloody hand, he strikes a match to burn away the evidence of their carnage. The burning ship drifts further and further into the horizon, drowned out by the sounds of cheering. Joel is handed a mug of better than average mead.
As he watches the lights flicker and consume the rest of the ship, one question remains at the forefront of his thoughts, echoed and repeated by every voice in his head.
Do I dare?
Clarity comes when he's two mugs in, everyone else fucking off to see how much treasure piled up. He looks at the door that leads directly where you are and the question becomes clearer. It is in the iambic beat of his heart. I am, I am, I am.
It's in the excitement at the thought of seeing you tonight and having a good meal to offer. He begins to smirk, taking two plates and finding food he thinks you'll like.
Do I dare disturb the universe?
—
You do not look at him when he enters. You cannot, knowing the things you’ve seen today. Especially when you hear he’s happy, humming as he sinks down the stairs from the deck. The jump on his step was not there before. And instead of finding that itching curiosity to see if he was smiling or if you were responsible for this joy, you feel your stomach sour at one thought.
Perhaps the slaughtering of others brought glee to his bones.
“You must be hungry,” he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You feel a strange stickiness to his touch. So strange that you finally look, only to be horrified by the sight of his bloodsoaked hand. You yelp helplessly, shrinking away from his touch. You shed tears, luminescent in the semi-darkness, as precious as pearls that only he can see. “Darlin’...” His hand comes to cup your face gently, trying to make you look him in the eye. In this form, your skin is cold, the warmth of his hands turning your skin red.
“Y-you killed them,” you finally manage, the iron smell filling your senses. Seeing you panicked, Joel reaches down into the tub to slowly bring you out of your tub and into his willing arms, slow shushes escaping him. “Are you going to kill me, too?”
So that was what you were so scared of.
You bury your face into his chest, his shirt smelling of him— of sandalwood and musk, tobacco smoke, and underneath it all, a few specks of blood. Meanwhile, he lets you, cradling you in his arms as you continue to shed your tears. He lets you, knowing you wouldn’t listen to him with so much emotion in that pretty little head of yours.
But when you do eventually calm down, he doesn’t miss a moment. He couldn’t.
“I can never harm you, honey.” He breathes in through his nose, finally close enough to smell you. The sea air in your hair, sunshine and honeysuckles from lands he can only dream of. “I can’t even if I tried.”
Slowly, he lays you down where he had dropped his sheet—the sheet you’ve been wrapping yourself around. The sheet that smells like the both of you; that way he could imagine waking up to you the past few times he had gotten sleep. Slowly, he straddles your changed form, naked and so fucking divine it has his head spinning. “Can I take care of ya, darlin’?” He waits for you. Even when everything is pushing him to kiss you— he has to know you want this.
He has to know you’re not miserable.
Seeing this, you take a deep breath. You hold his face. Your skin, smooth and not exactly human, bright against his, earth-marred, bloody, and burnt from days in the sun. And yet, you do not see those flaws. All you see are his warm eyes, so desperate to tell you he wants you, and yet so willing to walk away if you asked. So you grip him by his shirt, pulling him against you in a wanton, desperate kiss.
It is the first kiss you share. The first of the hundreds you’ll share that night. But you will always remember that first.
Because it’s burning against your cool skin. Because the scratch of his scruff is a sensation you have not felt in the long life you have lived. He holds your face, bringing your head closer to him, pressing against the front of his skull, making you whine from want as he deepens the kiss. You’ll always remember it because you know this kiss.
You can already see the ending before the two of you ever began.
His hand slips into your hair, his mouth pulling away from yours, only to drift down your cheek, your jaw… He chuckles against your skin when you gasp so meekly, melting like butter in his arms.
“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispers, marking the crook of your neck with his mouth. “Let me show you how ya have me wrapped around your pretty li’l finger.”
Already, you can see him in your memories, tangled up in him. His kisses on your neck, his spit drying against your skin. His fingers reaching and tearing you apart. In the eternity you’ll be facing alone… he’s there. Just there, a willing invitation to a dream.
He’s pushing your legs up, now fully transformed, and he comprehends everything. Without words, it seems, things simply come naturally to him. He cups your cheek with one hand, folding your body in half as your legs drape over his broad shoulders. His thumb brushes your lips, and you part them for him. You let him fuck his thumb into your wet mouth, groaning at the way you suck on him. “Good girl…”
Just then, his other hand reaches down, a warm sensation cupping your cunt as you whine softly against him, looking him in the eye. “Good God, are you always this soakin’?”
You slowly pull back, shivering softly from the sensation of him parting your folds. Only you, Joel. No one else can do this to me. He comprehends, and he groans again, leaning down to kiss you. His cock aches in the confines of his pants. Just like that, everything dulls out and he can only comprehend this: to have you. You, you, and just you.
“Guess I have some makin’ up to do to ya, huh?”
Just then, his head disappears between the valley of your breasts, marking a trail of blood-red hickeys down to your stomach, one hand pinching a nipple harshly enough to make you squeal, to which he shushes you again. Gonna get us caught, doll. He continues his way, finally finding your sweet cunt. He shifts his hands so he can slowly part your folds. He kisses the inside of your thighs just as you clamp one hand over your whining mouth. And, with nothing left to do, he takes a deep breath, looking at your face as he sinks his tongue down between your folds, tasting you with a longing groan of delight.
Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
All you can feel is the flurry of rhythm Joel sets. His trembling jaw, as if whispering prayers to whatever powers may be. His tongue splitting you open and fucking you raw in a way so obscene, you think it’s unbecoming. Perhaps it is. Perhaps by letting him have you this way, you have turned your back on your world. But he fucks one finger into your surprisingly warm cunt and everything else fades away into the silence.
“Fuck, baby…” It’s so easy, you whining urging him on, calling for him and begging to just keep going, dear God. One finger becomes two, then three. Then he raises himself so he can see your face better. So he can see the way your features contort into a heavenly amalgamation of beauty and pleasure and wonder in one full spectrum. But there is nothing more beautiful when his fingers brush against something that made you keen closer to his touch, eyes wide open with your mouth trembling.
“That’s it, isn’t it, darlin’? It is, huh?” He chuckles, the rumble of it vibrating from his chest, echoing to the backs of your thighs, and finally, straight to your wanting cunt. He smirks, his upper body shifting so his arm was much more free— just so he can keep aiming for that one spot that made you keen so beautiful he gets a glance of your otherworldly beauty.
A long forgotten poem comes up from the back of his head, just as he was pulling your orgasm from your willing frame, his other hand covering your mouth before you get too loud just so you wouldn’t be interrupted, caught, and possibly separated.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. “Good fuckin’ girl. Such a good girl, honey…” I did not think they’ll sing for me.
You shut your eyes, grinding your hips into his touch, chasing a sensation you can’t even dare put into words. You whine into the palm of his hand, feeling as if your skin, normally so cool, set on fire with the desire you have for Joel. You peer through your damp lashes, making out the silhouette of his smirk, his warm eyes somewhat swelling with pride.
“Joel… there’s… there–” you barely get the words out when you feel it. Your vision going white, the electricity flowing through your body, and coming out of you in warm bursts.
Heaven, you think, from how Joel so lovingly described it.
When you come to, he’s pulling his fingers away, and a spurt of fluids follow in the wake of his absence. He chuckles, the sound of it emanating the very depths of your consciousness. “Didn’t know ya could do that, pretty girl.”
It leaves you warm, slightly sleepy. Slightly drifting in and out—the way the ocean climbs and recedes from the shore.
You don’t notice the way Joel watches you. The way blood smeared your perfect face. You do not notice his hand tracing down your torso, coloring it a faded, rusty red. Marked by him, and for him.
And yet if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so will I endure. For already have I suffered so much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and wars. Let she be added to the tales of those.
“Please eat,” he finally says as he kisses your forehead. “I saved a plate for you.”
So you do. You sit up, trembling, the cool porcelain pressed against your thigh as you feasted. Grapes, expensive nuts, and meats you could only dream of. You try not to think of the price he paid to lavish you with such an offering. Because now, instead of the guilt, you feel the rumblings of power in your veins. You have become his very god, the one he’d slay men for. The very god to which he offers a plate paid for by carnage. And if you’ve become god, what can you offer him?
Heaven was not fit to house a creature such as I.
—-
He makes love to you after dinner. Slow, careful. He doesn’t want to terrify you. He doesn’t want to get caught, either. He has you on his lap, your cool hands cupping his heated face, spineless from pleasure as he fucks up into you, giving you a moment to accommodate him and get used to the feeling of his cock stretching you wide open. Every vein, his very length, arching and filling you up in the best way there is to be filled.
“Tell me you want this,” he asks, and you oblige him. You whine for him, calling, biting your lip and throwing your head back. You lead his hand to your chest, heaving with slow, shaky breaths. He knows what you want without ever asking it of you. And that is why he squeezes the curve of your breast, sitting up to press his mouth to your collarbone. The kisses set your skin aflame, his fingers pinching and pulling the pleasure from your willing body.
So he gives you everything. You cum once again with you on top of him. You cum again after he bends you over the nearest table with his rough fingers rubbing circles on your needy clit. And on the third time, somewhere when it’s quiet, you both lie on the blanket, your back to his chest, his cock unmoving inside of you.
It’s a moment of respite. A lull. A moment to catch breaths.
“How much did you see earlier?”
His arm is around your waist, his mustache brushing against the back of your ear. It’s nice. It’s almost domestic, a word so foreign to you. Perhaps domesticity is something innately human. But he makes you have a taste of it. And it tastes so sweet. You hum softly, tilting your head so he can kiss more of your neck.
“I saw the first man you killed,” you tell him, to which he groans, pulling you closer. “I couldn’t watch any more after that. It was… too much.” You feel his teeth brushing against the curve of your ear. Then he bites gently just to hear you squirm.
“I don’t want you lookin’ anymore, sweetheart,” he whispers, “not if it’s going to upset you this much.” He leans up, peering over your peaceful face, with your eyes shut and your body languid. “But… I suppose I’ll try.” You open one eye, peering up at him. “Less murders, my queen, yes ma’am.”
You giggle, pressing your palm to his mouth as he continues to tease you with such pet names. He speaks behind your palm. Angel baby, cutie pie… Other pet names you don’t comprehend because the sounds disappear into your cool skin.
And then he’s fucking you again, with you on your side and him above you, caging you in his arms. You catch your lip between your teeth, gritting out half-choked moans. Already, the pleasure has begun to border the line between pleasure and pain. Already, you feel your legs quaking, but you feel the tremble in his spine as well.
He’s close. He’s so fucking close.
That’s when you notice how sporadic his bursts of movement are becoming. Fewer and shorter in between. So, you begin to give back, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying on top of him once more, digging your blunt nails down against his biceps. You feel his hands on your waist. Bloody hands that have taken an infinite number of lives before you. Bloody hands that will take who knows how many lives after. Bloody hands, that, despite their track record, hold you as if you are so fragile in his grasp.
Gentleness incomprehensible. The best of the world in the palms of his hands.
The both of you, flying into deep, empty space. Alone with Joel in the aether.
Watching his orgasm wash over him just as yours does for the fourth and last time. He pulls you into his chest, letting you moan into his chest. The only thing that betrays his release is the stuttered breaths, the shaky fingers. That is all. And then you feel the warmth of his seed, buried deep within you, treasured and tucked away. It’s so much, you feel it reach places you didn’t expect it to be.
Even when he’s ending things, he’s giving you everything he’s got.
In the afterglow, he takes care of you. Already, the sun is rising Once again, you won’t see him until it’s dark again. You’ll be turning away from the world and dreaming of those eyes and his smile. But for now, he wipes you clean, kissing your forehead as he brings you back to your tub. For now, you hold his hand for another minute.
“Y’know… Sarah loved playing siren as a fuckin’ kid,” he finally says, cleaning up the plates in silence. “She loves the sea.”
You peer over the lip of the tub, smiling up at him dreamily. “She must be so beautiful. With your smile?” You sigh, leaning back as you look up at the ceiling. “You must miss her much.”
He brushes your cheek with a sigh, shrugging. “Every fuckin’ day, baby.”
He walks away from you, and you wait for him to look back. He does, with a shit-eating smirk at your dazed eyes, neck marked up by his own doing. “Don’t kill anybody today, Joel.”
He nods slowly. “Get some sleep, squirt.” As you turn away, the smile drops. He cannot show that vulnerability out there, amongst the men he’s shared blood, sweat, and tears with. Men he killed from and men he killed with. Men who’d want to tear you apart and swallow you whole. Men who’d kill him if they knew what the two of you did all night.
Then how should I begin to spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways? How should I presume?
He doesn’t have to presume for long. Not when he emerges on deck and he sees the dark shadow of land specking the endless sea of blue he had grown accustomed to. There stands the rise and fall of a mountain, a jagged line breaking the skyline.
The Captain speaks, and the shock burns through him so rapidly that he tries to hide it by leaning against the starboard side.
We hit land midday tomorrow. Our li’l baggage ‘bout to finally bring in some fuckin’ money.
The clock is ticking, what else can he do? Go, go, go.
—
When Joel returns, he’s waking you from a long, languid sleep. You turn to smile at him, but there’s a different look in his eyes. An urgency, a finger pressed to your lips to ensure silence. He carries you from the water and you’re brought up close to see the crease on his forehead. When he wraps you in the sheet, that’s when he speaks.
“Need t’get ya out of here, baby.”
The great escape. The prison break.
Now you feel the tension.
He waits for you to turn, to become inconspicuous. Meanwhile, he’s hot on his heels. He’s gripping a rucksack in his hands, heavy with some inconceivable baggage, muttering to himself. You start to understand the madness. You start to wonder if there’s two versions of Joel waiting behind every door. One of them is the lover— the man who’d kiss you as he introduces you to a world of pleasure. Then there was the monster— the man who sliced open the throat of the person he was robbing blind, the man who fired the harpoon that caused your imprisonment.
“So the monster has come to set me free of my bonds.”
You rise, shaky on your legs and clothed in that sheet that kept you modest. It’s when he stops in his tracks, looking you in the eye before sighing, tearing the cloth away from you to introduce a linen shirt of his. It smells of him; perhaps it even reeks of him.
“They’re going to butcher you if I don’t try, sweetheart.”
You do what you promised to yourself you’ll do when he asks you something. You put your blind faith into his hands and take a leap.
He leads you through a maze of rooms you cannot comprehend. You stop at the crosshairs. You duck under tables when he asks you to. And you know why. Because the men who thirst for your blood can be found on every corner. Because you’re running out of time. Because he’d rather lose you to the waves than those who shed blood like he does.
In a matter of minutes, you find yourselves in the cool evening air. It’s a blind spot, and it’s far enough that he helps you to the raft while it’s almost silent. The sounds of men beginning to have dinner so distant and far away, it’s like an entirely different world. Skillfully, Joel lowers you both into the ocean, the distant beating of the waves masking the sound of him cutting the rope that tethered you to the ship.
He keeps one hand on the behemoth you’ve escaped, and he audibly counts. Quiet enough for you to hear. Tens. Hundreds. Then, a thousand seconds passes.
He pauses, straining to hear. In the flickering light of the lanterns, you see the silver in his hair and his beard. You wonder, momentarily, if it’s the last you’ll see of him. That’s when you hear it.
Yells. But not of alarm. Not of you, their treasured prisoner, missing from her cage. It’s the yells of panic. Of suffering. Of pain.
Upon seeing your features, Joel finally reveals the hidden card up his sleeve.
“I poisoned them. I poisoned them and robbed them blind so they’ll never come after you.”
You look to him, waiting for another shoe to drop. But there is none. This is who he is, laid bare for you to see. Your devotee, giving you the ultimate sacrifice. This is not the monster nor the lover. This is Joel. All masks have fallen to their knees and prostrated themselves before you. Every post abandoned and conquered, only for you.
“Go.”
You blink, and his trembling fingers hold your cheeks, his shaky lips kissing the crown of our head.
“No one’s coming for you as long as I’m there to stop them.”
When you don’t move, he grits his teeth, as if caught between a rock and a hard place. A second passes, then his arms take you, throwing you overboard and into the familiar depths of an ocean below.
The waves welcome you with a surge of power, relentless and enduring. More immortal than you. More divine than you can ever hope to be. The moment you are released from Joel’s hold, the saltwater licks clean the wound on your shoulder. It washes away the scent of Joel’s shirt.
He’s already being erased from you.
From beneath the depths, everything comes back to you. The kiss on your hand, the scraps of food. His sticky, bloodmarked fingers marking you. All of it, slipping through your fingers like sand. In the cool darkness of the open sea, all you can see is a flame starting from the base where you last saw Joel. A fire spreading amongst the ship which you once hailed your prison.
You can see Joel’s boat, smaller in comparison, already racing away towards the shore.
All you can do now, with the power of Poseidon surging and bubbling beneath your veins, is to sing. To sing a hymn that begs before the very gods themselves. But it’s a song that begs Joel, too. Begs him to remember you.
Don’t forget me. You do not know if he hears you. Don’t forget me.
You attempt to follow him beneath the waves.
Don’t forget me.
—-
Against all odds, Joel Miller disembarks from the train to find himself in a farmland so familiar to him. Against all odds, it is three weeks later, and he’s followed all the roads and finds himself home.
He breathes in the smell of wheat under the scorching summer heat. He embraces it. He puts one foot ahead of the other, sea legs no longer present. The ground is too still that it still sometimes unnerves him.
A few meters away, he catches sight of the house. The windows wide open, the breeze making the curtains dance within. And on his porch is a familiar figure that had lowered her book and peered in his direction. He sees her face, and relief encompasses his bones. Sarah.
She’s running to him, yelling, loud and youthful and her face is like the sun. He feels himself smiling, too. The first time in weeks. Miles of walking and sleepless nights fade away with each step you take closer together. Then she’s running to his arms squealing as he embraces her.
Tell me. Is this really then Ithaca?
Finally, the years that separate the little family are slowly bridged. He rebuilds. He tells her stories. He tells her about you. When the sun sets, he tucks Sarah in and kisses her forehead.
Now, here he is. A couple of months that feels like decades have passed him by. He dreamt of you every night for the past three weeks. He sits in his bath, wondering if this was ever how you felt in those long, terrifying days. Did you feel peace, too?
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown.
His eyes fall shut. His breath slows.
A moment of peace as he sees your face, smiling at him, languid hands reaching and asking him to follow you.
He hears your voice, singing into his ear as he chuckles.
Until human voices wake us, and we drown.
-
taglist: @tuquoquebrute @boofy1998 @persephone-girl @lunxramour @none-of-this-makes-any-sense
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#pirate!joel miller x siren!reader#pirate!joel miller#pirate!au#siren!au#mermaid!au
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That with mark and alternative Y/n was so adorable!!! :0
May i request like the aftermath headcanons? Like Mark begins to trust alternative Y/n and sees them now as his Guardian “Angel” and they become a duo! him bragging around school catching others attention like adam and Jonah? :3
Aw thanks! I'm glad you liked it! Also we're calling this an AU where "all the victims are besties and attend the same school"
If y'all wanna read the prequel it's here!!!!!
.................
Mark had prayed all his life for a guardian angel.
Never did he think one would come as an Alternate, of all things.
But...how else could he describe you?
Ever since that night, you've kept your promise to protect him, keeping him safe from the others who wanted to prey on his loss of faith and hope.
It still took a while for him to fully trust you, though, getting jumpy whenever he spots you in the corner when he's about to sleep or hears your voice all of the sudden.
And of course his nightmares have gotten 10x worse, but you're always there to comfort him.
The worst ones are where you sell him out to your "Savior", though those eventually faded.
You only went into hiding when Thatcher visited his house for a wellness check after his school's receptionist got concerned with his prolonged absence.
He didn't give away the fact you were still present, but did report his encounters with the other hostile Alternates, allowing the lieutenant to collect evidence.
Once Mark is determined not to show any M.A.D symptoms, he's okay enough to go back to school, where you still watch over him regularly.
Alternates haven't found a way to infiltrate schools yet, but you didn't wanna take any chances.
From your observations, you learn that he's quite the shy/loner kid, sometimes getting teased by others for his personality alone.
You also learned that Cesar usually rushed to his defense...but with him gone, Mark was pretty much on his own now.
One day, he's drawing you during class. But when the teacher left the room for a minute, some jerk snatched his "Reassurances" notebook and made fun of him in front of everyone.
He managed to get it back, but he hid in the bathroom during lunchtime and cried for a while until you appeared in the mirror and asked what's wrong.
Long story short, you gave the bully M.A.D later that night and left them to their fate (spoiler: they were part of the 3% who lived, unfortunately, but they dropped out of school).
Mark's not one to condone this kind of thing from you, but....you actually did him a huge favor by getting rid of them. They've bullied him for years--ever since the day he shared that "scary night" story back in elementary, in fact, and they never let it go.
With them gone, he becomes a bit more confident in himself, eventually telling his friends about how an Alternate actually helped him.
Ofc seldom few actually believe him, though it definitely caught the attention of Adam, Jonah, Sarah, and Evelin.
They're trying to get a paranormal/ghost-hunting club established and think it would be neat to have a friendly Alternate as their mascot and/or helper.
They are surprised when Mark agrees to join, considering he used to say it was "demonic" and didn't want anything to do with the club--but you've changed his perspective.
Obviously they don't want any authority figures getting word of an Alternate hanging around the school, so they do their best to talk to you in secret, learning how you helped their friend that night and why you're so benevolent towards innocent humans.
Sarah and Jonah are lowkey nervous interacting with you (Sarah bc her brother nearly died thanks to the actions of two other members of your kind, and Jonah bc he's skittish around all things scary).
If anyone trusts you, though, it's Mark.
#clanask#anonymous#tmc x reader#the mandela catalogue x reader#mandela catalogue x reader#mark heathcliff#alternate reader#alternate y/n#platonic#headcanons
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ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀɢ
DEALER!ELLIE X READER - THE CAT IS OUT OF THE BAG. [COLLEGE/UNIVERSITY AU].
[PART SIX TO THE CATWOMANSERIES.]
WORD COUNT - 2,499.
RATING - 18+.[Angst, wlw sex, use of vibrator and tribbing].
SUMMARY - the truth about you is finally exposed by an unexpected soul.
[follow for more content].
previous chapter - chapter five.
It had been a long week, but everything had been worth it, your relationship with Ellie had improved considering what had happened previously, and the both you and Ellie were able to look over it and pursue the road of happiness, and currently, the both of you had been in an atmosphere of hot food, smiles and bliss under the roof of Ellie’s family home.
You had been specifically invited by Ellie, but you had comprehended that her adoptee father had actually been the one who wanted to see you. Their home had been homely, mostly made out of wood and had a Texan cowboy essence that they had evidently been proud of. They had all been kind, the second you had entered the house you had been greeted by kind hugs---chiefly by Sarah, Maria and Joel, Joel who couldn’t wait to expose how Ellie had always spoken about you whenever she had the chance, which had led her to have flustered cheeks and desperately mumble for him to stop.
“What about your family?” Tommy asked, and when you felt all eyes fall on you once more, you had awkwardly smiled. During the time you had spent with them, you had understood that Tommy was the blunt one, almost all of them had been straight-forward, but Tommy was usually the one that spoke first and thought later. “I heard you come from a well-off family.”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “My family sponsors the university.”
Interested the rest of them began to mumble to each other. “What does your family do?”
“Politics,” you smiled. “My father is a politician.”
With a few shared glances, Sarah sat up on her seat. “What type of politician?”
“For human rights and for us to have a better eco-system,” you replied and impressed, they nodded at your answer. “My father owns branches all over the world, to help the world become a better place.”
“That’s a great thing,” Sarah said and with a brief smile you continued eating your food.
You had planned to be nice, so you had held yourself back from asking them to speak about something else. Though, it had appeared as if your uncomfortable expression hadn’t worked. “I’d love to meet your father one day.” Joel said and with an uncertain look on her face, Ellie glanced at her fingers.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Ellie awkwardly chuckled and briefly, you sent your girlfriend a side-glance who had immediately felt regretful for what she had said.
Confused, Maria furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
With a side smile, you had sat up before you had spoken. “He’s terminally ill,” you replied, prepared for the sad looks that would be sent your way when you spoke about your father’s condition, and you had been correct. There had been an awkward silence after you had retrieved apologies, and to save the moment you had sent the rest of them a smile. “But I know he would’ve wanted to meet you guys,” you said and after words of appreciation, the dinner continued.
❊❊❊
Sweaty skin and jerked breaths, both you and Ellie’s arms had possessively wrapped your arms around each other, hot tongues that had licked--- sensation almost feather-like but passionate, sweet moans gently vibrated in the room while the left thigh of Ellie’s had parted your thighs, you had felt yourself gently grind against Ellie’s limb while the subtle music that sang of love and solace had bounced off the walls, the music supported by a show that played in the background from Ellie’s television had hidden the lustful interaction the both of you partook in.
Focused, you had slipped your fingers against Ellie’s covered chest, and as you had briefly pushed away the unsure feeling you had in your mind you had attempted to unbutton her shirt, but knowledgeable of your manners, Ellie furrowed her eyebrows and softly pulled away from you. “Is something wrong?” The auburn-haired girl questioned and hesitant, you shook your head.
“No, everything is fine,” you said and unmoved by your response, Ellie pulled herself back from you once she realised you had tried to kiss her.
Stubborn, Ellie had grabbed your hands and brought them together. “I can tell when something is off, especially when it comes to you.”
Fairly flattered, you had slipped your paws away from Ellie’s grasps. “Did I say anything wrong?” Ellie softly inquired and as you moved your face away from her, your nose gently flared in response.
“No,” you whispered, your soft response interrupted by a short whimper, and revealed, you had covered your soaked eyes with your hands as you could feel Ellie move towards you again to pull you into an embrace, you quickly removed your hands away from your face ere you burrowed yourself between the crook of her neck. “I don’t think I should be here,” you gently cried. “I need to be with my father.”
Empathetic, Ellie pulled herself away from you, her warm grasps on your shoulders. “Before you came here, your father said it would be best for you to come here, because you worry about him all the time,” Ellie kindly reminded and blue, you gently wiped a tear with the side of your index finger.
“You’re right,” you whispered and with a side smile, Elle picked up her television remote.
“Do you want to chill here? And just watch TV?” Ellie suggested and with a short nod from you, Ellie pulled you closer to her pillows and softly helped you rest against her cot.
❊❊❊
“Fuck!” You had whined, hand wrapped around Ellie’s wrist as she had softly grabbed your throat with her hand, over-stimulated, you had felt warm drool slip from the side of your mouth as Ellie’s gently circled the vibrator against your nub, and lustful, your eyes gently closed as you began to chant your girlfriend’s name as you could feel your climax near.
“Ellie! Ellie!” You cried out as she held you down, stubborn to let you move further against your bed, her green eyes had been shadowed with lascivious lust as she could feel her own natural juices coat between her sex as the mere sight of you weak under her grasp had stimulated her.
Enthralled, Ellie moved her thumb against your lips, charmed by your eminent whines, the pad of her thumb gently found way into your mouth, bottom lips tucked behind her teeth, Ellie watched how you immediately sucked on her digit as wetness gently coated your eyes. “Like that?” Ellie whispered and moved; you had quickly nodded your heads as you could feel your stomach slightly cave in as your climax slowly climbed through your senses. Aware, that you had almost reached your peak, Ellie gently breathed through her mouth once she released her lower her lip. “Cum for me,” she muttered and once you had received her approval, you curled your toes as your fluids easily slipped out.
Your back arched as your nectar spread against your sheets while your figure gently shook, Ellie pulled the vibrator away from your clit as she rested her mouth against yours and climbed on top pf your body, you placed your hands against her hips before you softly flipped your positions, currently above her, you softly pressed your used bud against her damp area.
“I want more,” you whispered and faintly surprised, Ellie looked up at you with eyes of armour, her hands then slid to the lower of your body as she had then smoothly gripped your buttocks as she aided you to position yourself on a better position fore you gingerly commenced to rub your clit against hers.
“Ah---just like that,” Ellie moaned as she pressed the back of her head against your pillow. “Go---[Y/N], she whimpered as she humped her body against yours, easily taken in by her pleasure, the Williams girl began to go at a quicker pace to chase her high.
Eyes rolled back; you shakily released a breathy moan as you could feel a second round of an orgasm aid to take over your body. “Right there!” You whined and as you could feel Ellie’s body move stiff against yours, you realised she had neared her release, eyes screwed shut, Ellie’s eyes cut into loud whines as the hold on your body strengthened, and ardent, you had moved your lips closer to her neck, gently licked and sucked on her sensitive areas aware of how enamoured it had moved her.
“Shit!” Ellie groaned as she mechanically began to buck against your sex while her white ambrosia leaked through her cunt, your high following through after, you had then eventually pulled yourself off her physique and rested beside her, exhausted, the both of you had stared up into your dorm room ceiling. “That was amazing,” Ellie smiled ere she twisted her body towards you. “Where did you get all that energy from?” She smirked and attentive, you widely smiled.
“Being with you gives me that energy,” you replied and with her face scrunched, Ellie gently smacked your arm.
“You’re so corny,” she answered and with a brief shrug, you pretended that you were about to turn away from her, but before you could, Ellie brought you close to her as she had then pulled you into a short and sweet kiss.
Content, you gently sighed as you had remembered you had class in half an hour, with a pouty look, you pulled yourself to sit up. “I have class soon,” you tell Ellie who immediately followed your actions.
“I’ll take you there,” Ellie said and with a brief thank you, you moved to the garments that had been thrown around your dorm room. |My family say that they like you,” Ellie happily said and with a smirk you turned to look at her.
During your time together, Ellie had been able to understand that you, her girlfriend had been an arrogant charmer, but that conceited side of yourself had been something the auburn-haired girl had loved. “I can win anyone with my charisma,” you candidly replied and with a short snort, Ellie hastily smacked your ass.
“In two days, I have a performance,” Ellie informed. “It contributes to my grade---”
“I’m coming,” you quickly said with a wide grin, happy, Ellie brought herself to kiss your cheek.
“Good,” she whispered as she had then picked up her backpack and swung them onto her shoulders, she kindly collected yours. “Now hurry up.”
❊❊❊
Calmed, Ellie exited the bathroom stall she finished using and headed to wash her hands, she had currently been in class and had to excuse herself. Her class had started thirty minutes after yours, so she had comprehended that you had finished your lesson and likely been in the canteen writing your assignments for your fashion course.
It wasn’t like Ellie hated her class, but truthfully, she’d rather be with you.
With a soft cough that Ellie had ignored, another bathroom stall had been pushed open and the Williams girl had quickly identified the being to be Doris. Alerted, Ellie immediately furrowed her eyebrows and aimed to grab her ex-dorm roommate before she could clean herself.
“At least allow me to wash my hands!” Doris rudely argued and adamant, Ellie pushed Doris against the wall.
Eyes dark with anger, Ellie had remembered that you had pleaded for her to forget about the situation, but truthfully, Ellie would rather not. “I don’t give a fuck!” Ellie seethed. “Why did you do that? What were you getting out of it?”
“You don’t know the full story,” Doris replied and as she had pressed Doris further against the wall, there had been an expression that warned Doris that Ellie had been seriously enraged.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t punch you?” Ellie asked and as Doris struggled to get out of Ellie’s grasp, the girl briefly sighed.
“Let go of me,” Doris pleaded. “And if you do, I’ll explain why,” Doris suggested and with a small thought, Ellie scrunched her nose. “[Y/N] is not who you think she is.”
Bemused, Ellie twisted her face. “I know of [Y/N]’s past,” she said and with a scoff, Doris walked over to the sink and began to wash her hands.
Amused by Ellie’s naiveness, Doris curved her face to look at her. “You’re a fool for trusting her.” Doris said, and with her arms crossed, Ellie leaned against the wall as she had waited to hear what else her ex-roommate had to say. “She fucked Cat over; she fucked me over and she will fuck you over.”
Confused, Ellie uncomfortable unfolded her arms. “[Y/N] is not cheating on me.”
“Yet,” Doris corrected before she placed both of her hands against her hips. “Ellie, think,” Doris said as she lifted her index finger against the temple of her head and tapped it.
“Think about what?” Ellie dragged.
“I was one of the first people, your girlfriend got with, and she cheated on me with Cat, knowing Cat was in a relationship with you---”
“Bullshit,” Ellie gritted as she had then furrowed her eyebrows in disapproval. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
With another scoff, Doris took a step forward towards the Williams girl, arms dropped to her sides. “Think again, Ellie.” With her fists clenched, Ellie briefly looked away from Doris, as she could slowly feel herself fall into a state of panic. “Ask her about it,” Doris candidly suggested. “Ask her about it and see how quickly she will fall---the bitch got what she deserved---”
“The leaked nudes was all a plan?” Ellie gasped as she returned her vision towards the other girl.
“I got in trouble, and even fucking sued,” Doris replied. “But it was all worth it. Cat was supposed to tell you everything, which is why she swapped classes with me.”
In disbelief, Ellie’s eyes fell to her feet. “Well, I tried to avoid Cat.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have,” Doris truthfully answered. “Now, you had to find out that your pretty girlfriend is just a whore who will throw you to the side in no time, better to do it to her before she does it to you,” Doris advised and Ellie slowly shook her head in disapproval, Doris hastily clenched her jaw. “Cat tried to tell you what kind of person she is.”
“Well, Doris, Cat still cheated on me,” Ellie replied.
“She is sorry for what she had done, Cat has changed, but [Y/N] on the other hand…” Doris shrugged aware of the insecure look that had been on the William girl’s face, she decided to continue speaking. “It’ll be stupid to think that she did. To think she has changed.”
Gut-wrenched, Ellie briefly clenched her fists, a wave of miserable emotions had travelled to her heart in mind as she had then thought of the countless possibilities of [Y/N] romantically interacting with other people without her knowledge. “I want to leave,” Ellie muttered ere she pushed herself off the walls and exited the toilets.
feedback would be appreciated!
masterlist
catgirl masterlist
for those who read my other fanfics, my realm's diamond series is going to have chapters published soon :)
♆
#the last of us#ellie williams#the last of us 2#tlou#the last of us two#ellie williams x reader#tlou2#joel miller#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams imagines#ellie williams x you#ellie smut#elliewilliams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#the last of us part ii#ellie the last of us#tlou ellie#ellie and joel#ellie#ellie x fem reader#tlou 2
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The Magical Girl Guide to: Faerie Witchcraft
A post a long time in the making, it's finally time for it to get out of my drafts. I've talked about specific faeries in the past but never a sweeping generalization on faerie witchcraft it, so let's change that this 2024.
Faerie witchcraft at its core is a path of witchcraft that revolves around communicating with the folk, working with them, calling on them and leaving them offerings as thanks for their assistance. That is the biggest generalization I can make about the path, but what that core looks like can be very different from faerie witch to faerie witch. So, let's talk about the faeries.
(As always, these 'magical girl guides' isn't the 'end all be all'. These are barely the tip of the iceberg. Always look at other's experiences/UPG and of course make sure to do more extensive research beyond a post on Tumblr.)
What are faeries?
Faerie, Faery, Fairy, Fae, Fey, Fay, it doesn't matter how you spell it, we are all referring to the same thing ー the Good Neighbors.
By definition, faeries are "is a type of mythical being or legendary creature, generally described as anthropomorphic, found in the folklore of multiple European culture a form of spirit, often with metaphysical, supernatural, or preternatural qualities."
There are no real single origin for faeries so much as a collection of folk beliefs from all over.
Terminology
Other Way to say Faerie
Ao sí/Aes sídhe
Daoine sídhe
Sídhe/Shee/Sìth
The Good Folk
The Good Neighbors
The Fair Folk
The Folk
The Gentry
The Good People
Greencoaties
Changeling - a substitute left by a faerie after kidnapping a human. Can sometimes be one of their own, other times it is glamoured rocks and sticks. Was used as an explanation for stillborn children in the past.
Seelie - the "faerie good guys" in stories.
Unseelie - the "faerie bad guys" in stories.
The Wild Hunt/Sluagh/Underfolk - a group of supernatural hunters in a never-ending hunt/chase. The perception of the Wild Hunt changed after the introduction of Christianity to the isles.
Wild/Solitary Fae - faeries with no Court affiliations, not to be confused with the Wild Hunt.
Trooping Faeries - live in communities and are known for singing and dancing.
Faerieland
Also simply referred to as Faerie, this is the home of the faeries.
Thought to be divided into the four Seasonal Courts of Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. The Spring and Summer Courts represent the Seelie Court while Autumn and Winter represent the Unseelie Court. These lands are considered to be eternal displays of the season they are.
faeries in folklore
We would literally be here all day if I talked about faeries in folklore. Y'all know faerie folklore and mythology is ancient X'D so this category isn't really all that important.
In these stories, faeries can be anything from benevolent to tricksters to someone out to get it back in blood.
faeries in media
Just as expansive as the faerie folklore post. Faeries are becoming more and more frequent in pop culture with books such as the Folk of the Air series by Holly Black, The Spider Wick Chronicles also by Holly Black, Sarah J. Maas' ACOTAR series and even in older TV shows like True Blood.
Hell, I'm working on a novel that has to do with faeries.
UPG
Since starting my own journey working with the fair folk I've come to learn that your fae working experience is shaped by the fae you go out of your way to interact with, the fae local to your area, what the folk feel comfortable sharing with you and what they feel comfortable letting you share with others.
A faerie witch whose experience centers around the flower faeries local to their area is going to be different from a faerie witch whose experience centers around Unseelie fae. Same for someone who only focuses on transactional relationships with the fae (ex. leaving out home baked goods weekly for a brownie, the brownie takes care of the home and that's the extent of their relationship) vs a someone where their path focuses on enveloping themselves in faerie culture and learning about it on a more personal level (ex. befriending a Court local to your area).
For me personally, my fae work experience centers around wild fae like selkies and death fae like banshee and dullahan. Both of which are very personal and has me enveloped in the cultures of these faeries. No transactions here but something deep and personal, like family. It's influenced the witchcraft I've chosen to incorporate into my craft as an eclectic witch and things I experience on a daily basis. (I do have guides on both selkies and banshee if you are curious. Dullahan post is in progress.)
Because of this, your prospective relationship with fair folk and what that may bring in your life is going to be very personal to you, I've found. There will be some overlap, of course. You'll run into someone and go 'oh damn, me too!!'. But it will still be special and unique to you.
It can be as personal as you want it to be. It can be as impersonal as you want it to be. It's up to you.
As such, I can't really make a generalized UPG post about what working with fae is like. There are so many kinds of faeries out there that it would take forever to complete! And one person's daily UPG can look vastly different from someone else's.
I don't believe it's as rampant as it used to be in witchcraft-related spaces as it was in say 2016, but there will always be people who will say things like 'avoid working with faeries in general' or 'fae work is only best for the experienced. If you're a bigger, fuck off'. But I personally think that, like with any craft, as long as you take the time to baby step your way into it, study as you go along, then fae work isn't something that should be gatekeeped to the experienced.
Seelie vs Unseelie: A Lesson in Faerie Morality
There's a huge misconception about these two faerie categories that Seelie means 'good faeries' while Unseelie means 'bad faeries'.
So the best thing someone can do when stepping into the world of fae work is completely disregard that notion. You can meet Unseelie fae who don't mind mortal company and then meet a Seelie faerie who doesn't fuck with humans in the slightest. I think it would better to think of it as faeries who commit to the right or left-handed paths and even then that's putting human morality on it. Human morality and faerie morality are not the same and the faster you realize that, the better it'll be for you.
What you might find atrocious, faeries might go 'that's not so bad'.
What you might find 'not so bad', faeries might find despicable.
Unseelie courts tend to be a bit less welcoming than Seelie courts in a general sweeping overgeneralization. That’s not to say there aren’t Unseelie fae that wouldn’t interact with humans, but a good majority probably won’t be happy to see a human frolicking about the place unattended. So if you ever feel the desire to visit an unseelie court, I’d wait until you’re more experienced working the fae and having the etiquette down
How important is etiquette?
I've personally found that the closer you are to a faerie, the less important etiquette is.
I don't speak to my selkie friends the way I speak to the flower faeries that are local to my area. The way I talk to banshee I know is very different than how I talk to banshee I don't know.
So yes, it is important to learn the proper etiquette to avoid angering a faerie. But the closer you get to the specific folk in your lives, should the relationship go beyond acquaintanceship/transactional, you'll find yourself speaking a bit more casually with them over time.
Faerieland: A Personal Dive
The home of the Good Neighbors.
You can go to Faerie by way of the astral or by slipping into a pocket of Faerie found in our realm (ex. you're on a nature hike and suddenly you've found yourself walking into a revel).
You could write a 50 page dissertation on the courts of Faerie and still not be done covering it. There are hundreds of Courts outside of the main few that you'll hear tossed around by fae workers and folklore enthusiasts and even with those known few there can be dozens of Sub-Courts.
I've met faeries from the Flower Court, a Summer pixie who came from a specific sub-Court called the Lake Court. I've heard of fae workers talking about Winter Sub-Courts that have to do with specific wintery holidays. So yes, there's definitely more than just the Seasonal Courts.
I always let people who frequent this blog what I can and cannot do and what I have and have not done. So in the spirit of keeping things transparent, I've only ever visited two Courts in Faerieー the Autumn Court and the Death Court. I can't really tell you much direct information about the other Courts because of that.
So I can't really give any 'here's a place I recommend visiting in Faerie' beyond a simple 'avoid any place embroiled in politics'. Any court going through serious issues whether that’s a change in power or what have you, won’t be the best place to visit.
Stick to well-populated places to start. You’ll likely find less problems there than say remote areas of Faerie. Just know, Faerie can be as terrifying as it is beautiful.
As for leadership, that looks different from Court to Court, Seelie to Unseelie.
I usually hear more about matriarchal rulership in Faerie, but there are faerie kings.
Who counts as 'Fae' and who doesn't?
If they consider themselves fae, they're fae. If they don't consider themselves fae, they aren't. That's really all there is to it. I've met merfolk who consider themselves faeries and I've met merfolk who consider faeries separate entities from themselves.
So in my experience, I've found that you just learn what the entity in question thinks of themselves as and respect that.
I'm just trying to keep faeries out my space tbh
You'll find the old timey methods to be very suitable. Iron, salt sprinkled around and so and so forth.
And should be out and about in nature, and you want to enjoy a hike without the fair folk messin' with ya, I'd recommend keeping an item of clothing inside out, carrying rowan or iron charms. And keeping to the trails. Faeries are more likely to avoid areas with heavy human foot traffic.
suitable offerings
The disclaimer here is that these are general offerings that most faeries should like. Should you ever find yourself working frequently with a faerie or find yourself the companion of one, there could be other things that they specifically like or dislike. But you usually can’t go wrong with:
General
Anything from nature like flowers, leaves, etc.
Tea
Honey
Cream
Berries
But should you be trying to get the attention of a faerie of a specific species, fine tune your offerings to that type of faerie. Seashells for selkies, bones for dullahan and so on and so forth.
how to gain the attention of a faerie
1) old fashioned offerings
2) astral travel
3) spirit attraction spell
I’m not a promoter of conjuring or otherwise, forcefully bringing a spirit to your vicinity. Think about it like this: you’re at a wedding. You’re best friend in the entire world is getting hitched to the love of their life, and you’re among the audience. You’re welling up with emotion and pride for your friend to have made such an important milestone in their life when… Suddenly, you’re not at their wedding anymore.
No, instead you’re looking at some random stranger who summoned you to their home who say it’s because they’re interested in working with those of your kind. You wouldn’t be too happy about this, would you?
Not only is conjuring or summoning bad for the entity, it can be bad for you if this entity isn’t easily forgiving of being torn away from their personal life to your home and you can end up paying the consequences for it. Instead, I recommend a spell that attracts entities to your home or if you’re sufficiently prepared, astral travel it up.
#magical girl guide#witchcraft#faerie witch#faerie witchcraft#fae work#spirit work#witchblr#black witches of tumblr#witches of color
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wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 9
chapter 8 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 10
pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)
summary: "only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love" ― george elio.
a/n: uhmmmm... yeah... i did tell you guys i love drama, right? well, this chapter has a dangerous amount of angst. i'm sorry?? i really hope you guys like this one, i have put a lot of effort into it 😭 as always, all interactions welcome. thank you all for reading and generally being amazing! xx
warnings: 18+, mdni. angst, angst, ANGST. have i said angst already? discussions of death, suicide and assisted suicide. sarah makes an appearance. soft!joel. lovemaking. there are some "i love you"s thrown around. crying. smut. oral (m and f receiving). masturbation (m and f). creampie. goodbye sex?? if that's even a thing to tag. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n. joel’s and reader’s pov.
w/c: ~5.3k.
tags aka the drama wagon (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981
@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille
“Joel, please, I beg you. Don’t do this, please”, Sasha pleaded with him.
She was on her knees, imploring him to spare her life. But he couldn’t do that. She was infected ― she was wearing the proof on her forearm, the bite bleeding shades of red and yellow.
It was just a matter of time before she lost herself, before she was truly gone. He was just being merciful with her, he thought. Ending Sasha’s suffering before it became too great to bear was the right thing to do. She was dead anyway, speeding up the process was lenient of him.
He gripped the gun tighter, his index caressing the trigger. If it was so rightful, why was he hesitating? The barrel kissed her forehead as she shut her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, mouthing a silent prayer. Joel noticed a familiar scar on her right cheek ― it had almost faded, but he knew it all too well. He had stroked it many times in the last few months.
His brows furrowed in confusion. Why did Sasha have the same scar you did?
“Daddy? Don’t kill her, please”, Sarah’s voice rang in his ears.
Joel’s attention quickly turned to his daughter. Sarah materialised, standing right there in front of him at arm’s length. She felt so real to him, he thought himself mad. Her bright sad eyes pierced through his resolution. She was as beautiful as he remembered ― curly brown hair, big green orbs, a sweet soft smile, the most soothing voice known to man, to a father.
But her features were torn with sorrow. In fact, her eyes were dotted with thick tears, her lips pursed in a grimace. He felt the urgent need to calm her down, to tell her everything was going to be alright. This time he could protect her. He would. He had to.
Joel knew he would not survive this all over again. It would break him for good, shattering the last remnants of what made him human.
“I have to, baby girl. I need to keep you safe”, his voice faltered, filled with emotion. A knot in his throat so dense he could not even swallow. “I won’t lose you again, baby girl, I can’t.”
“Daddy, no!”, she cried, touching his forearm ― a light, comforting pat that made his skin crawl with nostalgia.
The lump in his throat spread to his chest. An overwhelming sensation threatened to rip his torso apart. Oh, how much did he just want to embrace his Sarah tight, to feel her warmth again, to know such unconditional love one more time. To cry with pure relief, letting go of that daunting feeling that had been haunting him for over a year.
Joel knew he would do anything to protect Sarah. And so he did.
A loud bang ricocheted, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s.
“No, daddy, what have you done?”, she muttered, holding onto his forearm, digging her little fingers in his flesh.
She was weeping uncontrollably now. Joel dropped the gun to the floor, cradling Sarah’s face between his murderous hands. He swept away her tears, and his heart ached with longing.
“What I had to, baby girl. I’m keeping you alive, no matter what the cost”, Joel’s voice was so low, it was almost a whisper.
For the first time in four hundred and fifty-one days, he allowed himself to cry his eyes out. He let go of all the bottled-up emotions, knocking down the walls that contained all the misery and despair that he had felt for so long.
Sarah’s hands wrapped around his wrists, her sobs and his flowing in unison.
“But you’ve killed her, daddy.”
And then she vanished, leaving a trail of warmth on Joel’s fingertips. She was gone.
His heart jolted against his ribcage. Darkness engulfing his senses once again, casting away any feelings he had, leaving him as empty as he ever was.
He composed himself ― something in her tone, in her emphasis in the word “her”, forced Joel to look away from where his daughter had stood a minute before, down to the woman on the ground.
But it wasn’t Sasha. It was you.
You were dead. Because of him.
Grief swallowed him whole. Chewed him, spat him.
Joel startled awake, his heart racing so fast he could feel it pressing against his throat. Panic strangled him, forcing him to swallow the hard lump in his throat. He blinked rapidly, realising he had been crying in his sleep. With one hand, he brushed away the tears as reality set in once again.
He was going to lose you and there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent it from happening. Your fate had been unfairly sealed. The future he thought he had with you… gone. Joel had allowed himself to dream, dooming you in the process of doing so. He should have known by now that happiness was meant to escape him forever. Joel tainted everything and everyone he touched, leaving a trail of lingering darkness that would eventually catch up with those he marked.
He looked around, for a second forgetting where he was. You both were in a flat on the second floor of an apartment building on East Lake Shore Drive, with views to Lake Michigan. He guessed it was around midnight, a couple of hours after the whole debacle.
Joel barely remembered how you both got here, his memory was hazy, unable to recall much after seeing the bite mark on your wrist. The part of him who was built for this world ―unattached, steadfast, unwavering― took over, guiding you both to safety.
It was weird how he used to space out in those moments of high anxiety. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. He barely remembered the days after Sarah’s death either. The brain fog was so dense it felt like swimming through murky waters.
He shook his head and glanced down. Sitting on the couch, you were laying down on your side, with your head on his lap. Your hands were tucked away under his thigh, your face almost completely leaned against his jeans. One of his hands was buried in your hair ― he massaged your scalp lightly, his other hand resting on your hip.
Joel just wished he could take all of it away. Had he never known you, you would not be in this position. If your paths had never crossed, he was convinced you would have lived a full, happy life. And, as always, he fucking ruined it. Ruined you.
As if his conscience was not tortured enough, little Ava popped in his mind. Another failure, a very grave one. The little girl had unearthed a side of him he thought dead: the longing father.
The one who would worry to death every time Sarah fell to her knees while learning to walk.
The one who felt extremely proud when she took her first steps unaided.
The one whose heart would flutter with anxiety on her first day of school.
The one who spent hours deciding what to get his baby girl for Christmas.
The one who tried baking a cake for her fifth birthday.
The one who trained with her for her first soccer match.
The one who cheered at the top of his lungs every time his baby girl would score a goal.
The one who couldn’t protect her.
The one who hugged her desperately while she took her last breath.
This felt like a second punishment. Joel shouldn’t have had let go of Ava, but what was he supposed to do? Watch you fall in a river full of furious clickers? He couldn’t. He had to choose and chose you. It was fucking wrong, he knew that ― he was so selfish he condemned an innocent toddler without giving her a second thought. Losing you ― this was karma. A twisted payback endorsed by the universe.
You had cried yourself to sleep, caving in to the irrevocable fate that awaited you. Your dreams were besmirched with haziness ― a whirlwind of clickers, people running directionless, Joyce and Ava falling to their demises, death everywhere.
Your heart wept at the memory. Joyce’s blank eyes haunted your dreams, as well as Ava’s small voice, begging her nana to come back from the dead. Life was so unfair you could not wrap your head around it. They were innocent. Joyce was the type of person who would give her everything for everyone ― so thoughtful, attentive, always willing to lend a hand or an ear. She had been a light for you, healing that part of your heart that missed your parents. How much you had wished that your sacrifice would have had worked out. To trade your life for hers. Joyce should be eternal.
And then little Ava… you felt agony just thinking about her reaching out to the darkness below. Her imploring her nana to get back to her, to hold her. Her life cut so short ― it was too cruel.
You had lost too much, too soon, too fast.
When you woke up, your emotions were weirdly in check. Defeated, you understood there was nothing you could do. About Joyce, about Ava, about yourself. The dice had been cast and nothing could change the end result. So you had to accept your destiny and make the most of what little time you had left with Joel.
You momentarily shut your eyes, feeling Joel’s fingertips rubbing your scalp. Swiping your tears, you turned your head ninety degrees to your left, looking up at Joel. He was blankly staring into the distance, lost in his own train of thought. He reminded you of when you two first met and that scared you. You didn’t need to read minds to know what was crossing his.
The worst part about dying was not death itself, but the devastation it left on its wakening. Those left behind had to deal with the drowning grief of losing a loved one ― the sorrow, the regrets, the lost opportunities, the what if’s.
You grabbed his hand to kiss his knuckles. His eyes slowly drifted down to you, stained with affliction and unspent tears. His thumb ghosted your lips, a caress that tugged at your heart. He bowed down to replace his thumb with his mouth, a light peck that tasted of goodbye.
You stroked his jaw when the kiss broke off and reluctantly sat up on the sofa, nestling against his side. He wrapped you with his arm, holding you tight, his chin resting on your crown. Your hand was placed on his chest ― his heart beating steadily, calming your inner panic.
You closed your eyes. You didn’t want to do this, but you were scared out of your mind. You had trusted Joel with your life, so you would trust him with your death too. It was so fucking selfish of you, it made you sick. You had seen what a prolonged death did to people and didn’t want to suffer the same fate. Withering away like a flame on a thunderstorm was not something you wanted to experience. You wanted it to be quick, painless.
You knew it would break him and you hated yourself for it. But fear, as overwhelming as it was, had a tight grip on your ability to think clearly.
“Joel”, you whispered, rubbing his chest. You didn’t dare to glance up, your eyes fixed somewhere in that tiny living room. “Please don’t hate me, but… when my death is near, would you… could you… please… just… put an end to it? To me?”, you wept, tears flowing again. “I know it’s cruel of me to ask this of you, but please understand… I don’t wanna come back as one of those things, I don’t wanna hurt you. Or anyone. I just want to rest knowing I didn’t cause any harm…”
You felt his heart picking up a wild pace under your fingertips. A very long silence ensued, which forced you to look up at him. His jaw was so clenched you could see the muscles straining.
Joel was making a titanic effort to keep his emotions at bay. A world of past demons, of rotten feelings and of secret tears overran his mind. Facing his own death was easier than accepting yours. How could he be a victim of fate, a witness to death and the executioner of it as well? He couldn’t, he didn’t have that many faces ― he just was a simple man whose life got complicated too easy, too fast.
As intricate as his thoughts were, as many atrocities as he had committed in the last year to keep you safe, he detested being the ghoul to those he treasured. You had asked him to be the worst version of himself ― one he did not know if he would ever come back from. Once the afterlife sullied his soul, Joel would lack the strength to wash it off himself. It would forever taint him, marking him as the grim reaper’s lackey.
But what was one more death on his conscience? Your death? He had already branded you for slaughter the moment he landed his eyes on you many moons ago. It was only fair you solicited he finished what he had started, after all.
Ending your suffering before it became too great to bear was the right thing to do.
You were dead anyway, speeding up the process was lenient of him.
If it was so rightful, why was he hesitating?
The irony of his dream would have struck him to his knees had he been standing. If he loved, really loved you, he would not vacillate. He would greet your death compliantly, certain his would quickly follow.
You were a fucking monster for asking that to the man you loved, for laying such a burden on him. How could you be so damn tactless? You knew how he thought of himself, how he believed he spoiled everything he touched. And here you were, reinforcing that idea for him.
Your sobs grew louder, your hand travelling from his chest to his jawline as you straightened your back to reach his cheek so his vacant eyes would meet yours.
“I’m truly sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t know what overcame me, I just… I’m scared”, you muttered through trembling lips. “I’ll do it myself. Please, forget what I said, I didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry, Joel.”
Joel finally blinked, coming out of his trance. He cupped your chin, fear and grief swirling in his irises. He tilted his head down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“I’ll do it, sweetheart. I’ll do it”, he whispered breathlessly, and you just shattered in his arms.
You embraced him and cried until your eyes stung and ran dry ― until you flushed out such dreadful feelings from your system. Joel held you throughout, stoic and unfaltering, brushing your forehead with his mouth from time to time, whispering reassuring words in your ear.
You had noticed the difference in his voice, as if your request wholly broke him. How you wished you could retract yourself, travel back in time to restore the trust you thought you fractured. “No, I will. I will”, you repeated, inflicting your words with determination, one you didn’t feel.
This wasn’t how you wanted to spend your last hours on earth, lamenting yourself, wasting the little time you had left. This wasn’t you. You needed to show him you loved him, make him forget your sickening petition. A thought formed: you never replied to his confession ― a wrong you could right before you lost your mind to cordyceps.
You stirred in place to uncoil your back, your lips lined up with his. “I love you, Joel Miller. Since the moment I met you, I knew you were the one”, you mumbled with a sad smile before closing off the distance, your mouths crashing in desperate need.
Feeling his hesitance, you insisted with your tongue, stroking his with long brushes until Joel relaxed into your mouth. His hand slipped under your t-shirt, caressing your back, drawing invisible lines on your skin with the light touch of his fingertips.
“I heard you the other night, I thought I dreamt it”, he admitted in a hush when your lips detached.
“The other night, you mean yesterday?”, you teased with a small grin, and he nodded in reply. It did seem like an eternity away. “You didn’t dream it, I said it. I’ve been wanting to say it out loud for a while.”
“Me too, been thinking it for a bit, but didn’t know when it was the right moment, if there was a right moment. And then it felt like that moment was gone, that I was too late”, his tone became sombre as he spoke, your heart shuddering and breaking and healing and crying.
“You didn’t need to say it ― I knew, believe me, I really knew. I’ve known for so long now, before you even realised. I only wanted you to say it when you were ready”, you reassured him, your noses nuzzling.
It was a very little consolation, but you both held onto it.
This time it was Joel who resumed the kiss ― his lips were softer than usual, his mouth more begging than dominating. The caress of his tongue was affectionate, not demanding. You slid your feet from underneath and climbed on top of him, straddling him. You sat on his lap and peppered his jaw with little pecks. He hugged you by your waist, bringing you closer to him. You softly moaned when he trapped your mouth with his again, your crotch flush with his groin. You involuntarily rolled your hips against his, friction awakening your desire.
“I want you to make me feel alive one last time, Joel”, you sighed against the corner of his mouth, your palms against his cheeks.
He stopped and looked at you for a long second, probably debating himself. But whatever doubts crossed his minds, he put them to rest. Sometimes you wished you were a telepath ― Joel was a man of few spoken words, but you knew his inner talk was loud and loquacious.
With his forearms, he pressed your thighs around his waist. Placing his hands on your butt cheeks, he stood up with you in his arms, holding you tight against his body. Joel walked you both to what you assumed was the bedroom. It was quite minimalistic, white walls and spiderwebs decorating the corners. The bed seemed comfy with a very thick mattress and silky bedsheets.
He set you down on the bed before kneeling to undo the laces of his boots, throwing them to a side. Your shoes quickly followed his to the same corner. Joel stood back up and undid his belt, his eyes never leaving yours as you helped him. The unspoken words were loud in your head, neither of you needed to say anything else.
In silence, he undressed, leaving a pile of clothing on the floor. You admired his body ― his broad shoulders, his strong arms, his chiselled pecs, his slimmer waist and softer tummy. You traced the scar on his right hip, the one he got for defending Tommy. Ah, Tommy, another loss. You casted that thought away quickly.
He was gorgeous and he was yours. All yours. You loved this man with such passion, it sometimes startled you. The way he cared for you in all meanings of the word warmed your heart.
You caressed his sides, your fingers wandering to his ass cheeks to push him towards you. You kissed his belly button, his happy trail inviting you down, which you gladly followed. His erection was creeping up but was still soft, so you kneaded his testicles tenderly ― your free hand pumping him unhurriedly, teasing him, while your lips brushed his V line.
You looked up at him with adoring eyes before your tongue rippled around the plump tip. Slurping the precum off his slit without breaking visual contact, Joel tucked your hair away behind your ears and let you do as you pleased at your own pace. Closing your eyes, you took his manhood in your mouth, slathering your saliva on him. His cock was hungering for your touch, weeping, throbbing ― you could feel the heat hardening him under your tender hands and darting tongue. He tasted musky, but also sweet. Your favourite flavour. You heard a deep rumble coming from Joel’s chest as his glans caressed your uvula.
You took him out of your mouth when you felt the pulsation ― he was ready for you, whenever you wanted to take him in in your slick warmth. You slid your tongue across his whole length before leaning backwards to meet his eyes.
You saw lust, but also raw love. Joel motioned his hand in an upward gesture, and you stood up in front of him. Tasting himself in your mouth, he helped you undress completely. When you were both bare naked, Joel hugged you tightly. Oh, how you wished you could stay like that forever, frozen in time.
Joel gently pushed you to bed again, his lips never abandoning yours, and dug a knee on the mattress as you laid down on your back. His body was hovering over yours, his frame covering you.
He showered your neck with pecks and licks while your dewy lashes fluttered like butterflies. A soft, liquid whimper grew in your chest, breaking free. His calloused fingers cupped your breasts, his thumbs ghosting your nipples ― a light touch, electricity thundering down your spine. Your back arched, lifting off the mattress when his thick fingers were replaced with the welcomed wetness of his mouth. He did not linger for long though, set on a downward path.
Joel came off the bed, dragging your hips with him to the edge of the mattress. Knelt before you, you unconsciously parted your legs to make room for him. He marvelled at the sight, the proof of your passion pearling your velvety fold, the core of your pleasure begging to be paid due attention.
With the back of your knees resting on his shoulders, he kissed your mound while his thumb caressed your dripping entrance, circling it tentatively before drowning in it. You gasped at the sweet intrusion. Then his tongue scurried down, licking your clit with a languid, long stroke.
He lapped your creamy slit, gulping your fluids down ― everything you had to offer, he took. His tongue worshipped every crevice in your silky pussy, not even an inch was left unattended ― Joel made sure of it. He alternated between fingering you slowly with his thumb and introducing his tongue in your tight opening, stroking your g-spot the way you liked it. It was too much. The tense knot in your belly melted with no warning, releasing a spurt of lava into Joel’s mouth. You wailed, clutching the bedsheets, gushing for him, only for him, eyes averted.
Like a thirsty man in the middle of the desert looking for an oasis he could drink of, Joel made you come with his tongue over and over again. You lost count of how many times you orgasmed ― your skin pearly with sweat, your cunt overstimulated, your dusky nipples hardened, your limbs shaking, your heart burst with love.
Joel emerged from in between your legs and crawled on top of you as he dragged you to the centre of the king size bed. Holding his weight off you on his elbows, he blanketed your body with his ― his hardness intimately resting against your swollen mound. You slipped a hand between your bodies, your fingertips teasing the head of his column. You pumped him slowly as his mouth invaded yours with lazy strokes.
You bathed his cock in your slick, swiping it on your puffy lips ― drenching him in your arousal. Then you wielded him from the base and broke off the kiss. You wanted to look into his eyes as he possessed you one last time. As he loved you and you loved him back with your whole heart. Guiding his tip to your needy hole, you encouraged him to push it in with your heels on his butt cheeks, never breaking eye contact.
Both of you moaned as his cock found its way to your cervix, kissing it gently. You draped your legs around his waist, taking him in as far as you could house him. The connection you felt to him was eerie, almost unreal. His orbs were transfixed on yours, none of you able to look away. Your mouths were parted in unspoken awe, then he lightly bit your chin to stop himself from groaning like a madman.
You laced his neck with your arms to pull him towards you, your lips crashing as he rolled his hips into you. In, out, in, out ― very slowly, so slowly it just enhanced the intensity of his swaying.
“I love you, Joel”, you husked as his cock dragged along your anterior wall, pulling out to then ripple back into you.
Joel’s thrusts were lethargic, as if he didn’t want the moment to end. “I love you too”, he replied as his hips undulated like waves between your thighs.
Joel kissed the scar on your cheek as you foraged for his mouth. The façades had fallen. There was no roleplay, no dominance nor submission, no “sirs”, no dirty talk, no begging ― none of that. There was only two people showing their love and affection to each other. It was the first time you actually made love.
Because you were head over heels for him. Had been for a long while. And you just knew he loved you to bits, there was no denying that. The overwhelming sensation flooded you, tears welling up and shedding. You cradled his face and realised the apples of his cheeks were soddened too. Both of you were crying your love and your regrets ― your tears mixing with his, wetting your lips with a salty taste that got diluted in the shared dampness of your mouths.
Your heart wept for the time you didn’t have with each other. You hugged him closer to your chest, nipples kissing, when the soft hammering of his pelvis against yours picked up a faster but controlled, smooth pace. Way more intense too, his pulsing cock driving in as far as it could reach.
One of Joel’s tears fell on your neck when he kissed your chin, then slid down and gathered at the centre of your collarbone. His mouth dropped to lick it off your skin, leaving a different type of wet trail behind. You whimpered heavily, his tongue now attending the crook of your neck while Joel’s hand darted down, quickly finding your buttery button and stroking it dextrously.
Your moans grew louder ― your legs gripping tighter around his waist, your nails digging in the skin of his back, your back arching, your mouth open so wide it was an inch away from dislocating.
Joel didn’t contain his passion either, heaving notoriously, his chest rumbling with a deep, guttural growl. His dick was diving in you so smoothly, it even felt mythical. He was throbbing for you, your creaminess cloaking his manhood. He could feel your heartbeat contracting your inner walls every single time, his own pulse drumming in his cock at the same time. Your pulsating sexes were fully synchronised, in complete harmony.
You yielded first. Your overstimulated clit sent the signal across your whole body, a potent wave uprooting a high-pitched shriek off your lungs as you reached the best climax of your life. Your quivering cunt clamped down around Joel’s hot cock, squeezing him uncontrollably ― you could not get hold of your own muscles, they just spasmed around his pounding dick. You felt his manhood twitch violently inside you, announcing his own orgasm ― your pussy heartening his cock to come.
Joel felt his balls tense up, his lower belly contracting so hard it was painful. He was so turned on, a prolonged howl escaped his mouth, cavernous and thundering. His dick writhed in your welcoming hole, his hips stuttering with measured effort. He placed the palms of his hands to each side of your head to lift his torso off you, his hips still waving against yours, and caught a glimpse of your heavenly face: half-lidded teary eyes, O-shaped mouth, your eyebrows relaxed. You looked so damn beautiful, the most beautiful he had ever seen you, so much so his heart tugged with longing, with love, with adoration.
With a painful groan and out of habit, he tried to pull his cock out of you to come outside. But you quickly shook your head no, raising your arms to lace your hands behind his neck, forcing his head down towards you. The heels of your feet pressed against his butt cheeks again, your legs locking around his waist to keep him in the place he needed to be ― inside you.
“Please, Joel, I want to feel you, I need to feel you”, you urged him, his breath mixing with yours, mouths agape.
With such plea, Joel finally let go at the same time he claimed your lips with his, moaning into your mouth. Devouring you, his cum spurted out into your inviting, slick cave, in several waves. He filled you up to the brim, his cock still throbbing, painting your inner walls white. He remained still between your legs, his dick slowly softening inside you, until he finally pulled out, both of you grunting.
You squashed your cunt to keep his warm spent in your pussy for as long as you could.
Joel kissed your cheeks, sweeping away your tears with his lips while your hands cradled his face, your thumbs brushing his away too. You had never seen him cry before. It killed you knowing that he felt so safe with you, he could let his walls down and be himself without any repercussions. His teary brown eyes pulled yours into their orbits ― you were unable to look away.
Joel closed the distance and sweetly kissed you. Again, that heavy, goodbye feeling nested in your chest, squeezing your heart and your throat.
This was goodbye. You would never see him again and that broke your heart into tiny little pieces that could not be glued back together.
Don’t think about it.
Joel laid on his back and you quickly curled up against his chest, hiding your face from him. Silence ensued, each lost in their own thoughts. You pecked his chest while your fingertips lightly traced every line on his tummy.
“Promise me you won’t do anything rash, please. Go look for Tommy after… after I’m gone. Please don’t even consider… following me.” You whispered, slowly looking up at him. “Please.”
His eyes wandered on your face, then he sighed heavily, looking away. “I can’t promise you that, sweetheart.” His orbs slowly locked on yours again, your bottom lip quivering with sadness. “I may or may not consider it, but Death is capricious and, sooner or later, it always comes knocking.”
“I hope it’s later rather than sooner. You deserve happiness, Joel.” Your words, albeit stammering, were sincere.
“This is my happiness, right here with you in my arms. If Death came looking for me tomorrow, I would die a happy man”, he admitted in a whisper.
Your heart exploded at his confession. You laughed and cried at the same time, kissing his jawline. “You do know how to make a girl feel special.”
“That’s because you are.” He shrugged, hugging you closer to his chest.
“I love you ― to the edge of the atlas and back.” Your hand caressed his left cheek, bowing his head towards you so you could capture his mouth.
You made love twice more that night, none of you wanting to fall asleep. You made sure every minute counted, showing and telling each other how much you loved one another.
You also cried together to purge your sorrows. When you thought no more tears could be shed, one of you would prove yourselves wrong, breaking another invisible dam. You both felt vulnerable, but also loved.
Soon enough, dawning colours painted the sky ― shades of red and orange filtering through the curtains, tinting the white walls of the bedroom with warmth.
You sighed, resting your cheek against his pec, feeling heavy and cold. Very cold. Suddenly, you shivered. Joel noticed your trembling, instantly worried. He pressed the palm of his hand against your forehead.
“Honey, you’re burning up.” His voice seemed to be far away.
You felt so drowsy you only managed to hum, “Mhmm?”.
Then you blindly plunged into darkness, unaware of Joel calling your name, panic in his voice.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller ff#joel miller fic#pedro pascal ff#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal cinematic universe#ppcu#the last of us#tlou#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#ppedit#pedropascaledit#ppascaledit
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return the favor {chapter 22}
Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader || M! OC x Pre Boston QZ! Reader (flashback scenes)
Summary: Memories often spring up at the worst of times, but as you continue to travel alone there's not much else to occupy your mind.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: minor character death, m! oc death, canon typical violence, canon typical language, cursing, insult, sexual content, non con, allusions to non con sexual advances, allusions to p in v, unprotected p in v that results in pregnancy, kissing, pregnancy, symptoms of pregnancy, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, allusions to child loss, fighting, blood, reader gets injured, joel gets injured, guns, gun violence, self-depreciating internal monologue, if i left anything out pls lemme know!
A/N: trying something new with this chapter, i hope it reads well! thank you to everyone who participated in the poll for the next few chapters of this fic! this one is a little shorter, but the next one will be a doozy. my mind is a little overwhelmed with school and tutoring and four different WIPS
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
Joel was trying.
He was trying to tamp down the anxiety he knew would thrum in his veins the second the gates of Jackson closed behind him. Back out in the unknown and unpredictable landscape. Winter was granting him a passive day, no snow, no biting wind, cloud coverage clear for the sky to shine a light blue to crystal clear you would think it was a brisk summer day. But the pause in extreme weather aside from the near freezing temperature did nothing to quell the pulse beneath his skin.
He was alone, traveling with a teenager he had come to care about in a dangerous way.
The journey had been meant to be made with Tess, first. Strong-willed, no-nonsense saint of a woman for taking what he could offer her and not asking for anything in return. Just wanting to share space and renown within a controlled setting that allowed for them to execute their runs and make what passed for a decent living back in what was left of the quarantine zones. To share their bodies when human nature sparked connection in the oldest and most instinctual of ways. She had turned an eye to his abuse of the very same things they traded for food, for water, for supplies for their shabby apartment that had seen far better days before they stepped foot inside.
Then journey was then meant to be made with you. A surprise in the moments after her death. Skilled in many things and willing to help a man suddenly saddled with a teenager he had no clue how to interact with. But he had, once upon a time. The situation tasting of irony and self-destruction. Selfless to the point of disembarking on your own path in the wake of his own attempt at running when faced with something too real for the world. Maybe in the Before times, it would have worked out. Perhaps a meet cute as he delivered his brother to an urgent care for a drunken blunder, a work accident he himself fell victim to, or a begged visit for Sarah should she had fallen off her bike or taken a tumble in soccer practice. Maybe then it would have been given life, hopeful glances and lingering touches that would have turned into nervous dates. Nervous dates that would give way to regular familiarity and then heated nights beneath sheets of his bed.
But it had never should’ve blossomed in the now, in the after. And yet, it had tried.
Ellie was mad. She wasn’t trying.
Not the first day at least.
Speaking when spoken to, ire and hurt flaring uncomfortably in moments he could sense weren’t aimed at him. At least not completely. Aimed at you, for going back on your word. Something you wouldn’t have had to do if he hadn’t screwed up so monumentally by falling for you. He had been wrong in his accusations, throwing the proposition you made to him all those days ago back in your face. Like you had forced yourself on him, forced him into thinking of you that way, of wanting you that way. But it had been him, his decision to take you up on it in his grief. Wanting to feel something other than the gaping hole that seemed to eat up more and more of him as the years went by.
But instead of just taking his body in the ways he allowed you to, you had also begun to heal that black hole he was made up of. Slowly and so minimally at a time that he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
He stopped and made the time to teach her how to shoot the rifle, hoping it would help to bring her out of her shell. And it worked, he silently thanked the universe, it worked. She was cracking jokes and quipping like normal. Mirth lighting up her eyes and questions flowing from her. And he indulged them, as best he could. Telling her of how he supported himself before the world fell apart. About how he always dreamed of singing and making music.
But just as everything seemed to be on the mend, it was broken once again.
With the crack of a wooden bat.
“A-Angelo?” You voice was as shaky as your reaching hands, fingers brushing against the man’s face only a few steps away. He was older, that much was certain. Only a year apart back then, back when the world functioned in an entirely different way. Only a year apart, but two decades of time separating you now, turned into completely different people. A wave of emotions at finding your family by pure chance and circumstance in the wilds of a state you had never been to before while on your way to look for them hit hard. You both surged forward and embraced, the man’s arms coming around you and tightening.
“I thought it was you, the hair,” He choked out, deep voice cracking. He was so broad, tall frame looming over you, developed fully into a man who had survived the worst of nature and humanity. Just as you had grown into a woman who took nothing of ill nature aimed at you, taking the things that had happened to you and using it as a foundation to be stronger.
“It’s me, I’m okay.” You gripped his shoulders tight, pushing him back a little to look him over.
“No injuries, no bites, you’re okay?”
“Yes, yes, I’m okay….We both are.”
That’s when your mind decided to remind you of the other voice you heard, the feminine one.
A young girl, no more than her teens and far too skinny was half concealed behind a tree trunk a few yards away. Her eyes were brown, honey brown and beautiful and they reminded you of so many people lost to space and time. They shown just as Taylor’s had done, once upon a time. Like you had both talked of wishing to see on a bright new, chubby face…
“Oh.” The phantom jolt of a kick felt through the skin of your aunt’s stomach so many years ago sprung to life in the palm of your hand. “Oh, Angelo. I’m-I’m so sorry.”
He detached from you, taking a few steps toward the girl, now in between you both equally. He held out a hand to her, his gloves tattered and stitching frayed in certain places.
“It’s okay, she’s okay. She’s family.”
“You’re so beautiful,” You gently coached her out, hoping nice words would help her to feel safe. “I’ve never met you, but I’ve waited a very long time to. You- you can call me by my name or Bean, if you’d like?”
“This is our cousin, from mom’s side. Do you remember her saying that we needed to go East?”
A small nod, wide eyes taking in the situation.
“It was to find her. She’s good, smart, she can help keep us alive.”
“You’ve been doing good on your own.” She didn’t move, not taking a step to back away and put distance between you nor toward you in a hesitant greeting. Her wide brown eyes were alert, telling of the things she’d experienced and been witness to. Of how cautious she was in the face of new people, a good thing to be but completely unwarranted in this particular case.
“Yes, but…Adela, we…we need help. This season, it’s harsh and we don’t know this land as well.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I know we’re practically strangers but we are related. I know that doesn’t mean much these days to some people, but it means a great deal to me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, just like your brother.”
Hours later, after a shared meal and an introduction of your gifted appaloosa, camp was made and secured. Adela was fast asleep, one of the blankets you had tucked underneath the saddle wrapped around her small frame inside her sleeping bag. Light snoring sounding from the bundle she made against the horse.
“We’re the only ones that made it.” Angelo said before you could even figure out how to ask after everyone. Outbreak day a rather taboo subject amongst those that survived it. For Joel, at least, for you it was easier to divulge but still not a light subject to talk about. You had been willing with Ellie, with Maria. The first to quell her curious questions, to allow her another perspective on the events before her time that shaped the world into the one that she knew. The second to appeal to her, to connect with someone who felt comfortable.
“We didn’t know anything was going on for a while, you know how it is working in a ware. house all day. But when I got home that evening, apparently grandma had passed during the morning. Scared the hell out of everyone when she came sprinting into the living room and lunged at dad.”
“I…I can’t imagine, I’m so sorry. I know I had a missed call from the house that day, but I had been running late. And then, you know….”
“It’s okay,” One of his gloved hands reached out, taking the closest one of yours and squeezing. “We both made it, Adela made it. I love our family and cared so much for everyone, but this world is too harsh for them. It was always going to be us and that’s the only comfort I have in what happened.”
Silently agreeing, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, your grandparents had softened in their age, his parents and your father caring for them together. Soft in their endearment too, not suited for a life of constant unrest, of constant fear and paranoia. Of scrounging for food and basic supplies, having to defend what was yours by any means necessary.
“I was traveling with a man from Boston QZ and a girl, we were trying to find her family out this way. The last lead would’ve taken us to the University of Eastern Colorado.” You admitted over dinner the next day, having taught Adela the basics of how to properly interact with a horse, how to climb up in the saddle. While she was tall, she was skinny. Alarmingly so, but Angelo assured you that he always made sure she had enough to eat. He was willing to go without to provide for her, to ensure her still growing body had as much as it needed, or close to it at least.
“We were just there,” He took a breath, savoring the smell of the coffee that you had brewed for him as you all settled around the fire for the night. Scraps of foil that had contained easy, portioned meals to through on the fire that Maria had provided you with. “Well, around there. We came across a group of people settled into an old lodge town. Not to far from the city actually.”
Something about the man’s tone had you delaying your questions until Adela had laid down to rest for the night, tired from the day of interaction. But she was warming up to you, a familiar comfortability between you both as you talked to her about her mother. She admitted quietly that Angelo wasn’t willing to talk about their parents, people she had never had the chance to meet. The chaos of Outbreak day and those following it too much for him to talk about.
“We-uh, we left the group pretty quickly.” The man cleared his throat, turning around to ensure that his little sister was indeed asleep and not feigning it in order to eavesdrop. “The leader, god – what was his name? It doesn’t matter, he was so nice at first. Preaching about how people need to stick together, that his flock chose him to lead them and look after them.”
Your heart sank to your stomach, religious fanatics always putting you on edge. The way they manipulated the words of the bible in order to further their own agenda. And the way Angelo described him as initially nice and welcoming. A ploy, a trap laid out to ensnare people.
“But the first morning there, he came to visit us in the small set up they provided us with. Asked Adela to go out on a walk with him while I was still asleep. She hadn’t wanted to go, but felt obligated. Like he was just going to give her a tour or somethin’ and it was harmless, ya know?”
The rush of blood in your ears was loud, but you strained against it, needing to hear the words coming from the man beside you.
“He- that motherfucker, he exposed himself to her. Said that if she wanted to stay and use their resources that she needed to earn her keep. She begged me to leave right that second, to gather our stuff and make a run for it. But I don’t her we needed to act like nothing happened, to wait until nightfall and take what we could. So we did….but if you said you were traveling with a girl…brown hair, short, scar in her eyebrow?”
“Yes.” You breathed out, body thrumming with fear. No….no…there was no way Ellie could’ve been taken by the same men. She wouldn’t willingly go with anyone, had been hesitant to even let you or Joel out of her sight for too long….That meant…Joel had to have been injured in order for them to steal her away from him.
“She was unconscious, they were…they were carrying her into the settlement.”
Your head shot up, drink spilling over your hands cupped around the thermos.
“No.” You stood, hands steady despite the flood of emotions raging around in your mind. “No, no, no. I know those people, without them I wouldn’t have made it back out this way. We traveled from the other coast.”
It was late, but you didn’t care. You were gathering everything you needed, your pack and half of the food supply.
Adela roused at the noise, springing up and reaching for your hands.
“No, please, don’t leave us. We’ve lost too much already.” Tears were in her wide eyes, tugging at your heart in more ways than one. You crouched down in front of her, clasping your gloved hands around her own. Giving her your undivided attention.
“Honey, please, listen to me. I’m- I – I don’t want to leave you two, but I have to. Please understand. The girl that you saw, that was…she’s important to me. And she needs my help. I’ll see you again, I promise. I swear to you, Adela, I will see you again. Behind the walls of Jackson, we can…we can have a life there.”
Standing, you pulled her into a tight embrace.
“I’ll tell you embarrassing stories about your brother from when we were little.”
Pulling the map from your pocket, you circled the spot for Jackson with a marker.
“Here, this map will get you back to a settlement. Jackson. It’s large, has walls, it works. Ask for Maria or Tommy, tell them my name and that I sent you. Tell them you’re my family, you are. Take this,” You moved to wrap your old coat you had draped over your lap over the small frame of the girl and push the map that would lead them back to Jackson in the man’s hands.
The man surged up and gripped you tight in a bear hug, his body wrapped completely around you like he would do ever since he had begun to tower over you as children.
“Please, be safe!”
“Seek refuge in Jackson. I’ll return there, I promise.” You urged as you mounted the horse, reigns tight in your hands.
You clicked your tongue and tugged hard, urging the horse forward. The sound of hooves beating on the frozen ground was the only sound in the quiet, frozen night.
The remains of the a few bodies were scattered about the derelict campus that had been the destination sought out by them. Joel and Ellie. Those you were searching for nowhere to be seen, only hints of them in the bullet casings, the torn-up dirt, a bat broken in half- the jagged ends of one piece soaked in a deep red stain of blood. Joel’s, if your cousin’s words and your spiraling thoughts were correct.
Internally cursing at the man for pulling it out, for not waiting for a better moment, for not thinking in the haze his mind must’ve been.
Just as you began to trace the trail of rather fat droplets, you heard the crunch of someone stepping on fallen leaves behind you. Before you could even turn around completely to face them, someone was wrapping their arms around your neck, cutting off your air.
Your last thought was of Angelo and Adela. Of Joel and Ellie.
‘It was hot. Sweltering. And your dress was too tight over your swollen middle. It was a small bump, barely visible from the front, more so from the side. You had thought you indulged in too much food one evening after a deer had been caught but the teasing jab soon delved into something more serious. Especially when the swelling hadn’t gone down in the following days and nausea became a morning ritual.
You had been ecstatic, a first for you. And exciting thing you had always wanted. A faint thought you hadn’t entertained even in a working world, a notion you hadn’t thought possible at all with the demise of the world. When you had told him, Taylor had shared in your excitement, immediately beginning to hoard everything he could loot from the nearby state park. Gathering everything you could use, whether it was to repurpose it or store it for the future.
You had found a pocket of happiness and security in the rubble of the world, hidden deep in the forests of Tennessee in the form of a man who welcomed you into his space when all you had wanted to do was run. Finding yourself injured and needing aid, he had offered it to you.
What had begun as a small stay to ensure you would heal okay, that your stitches were secure and wouldn’t pull. But the conversations that flowed from one to another over those first few days tied you to each other. Braiding together your futures in such a wonderful way. There was no way to know how badly the universe would fray the untethered strings.
The only consolation was that the nights were cooler, the evenings and mornings twinged with a chill that signaled the end of an unseasonable warm fall. But as time moved on, Taylor had pleaded with you to consider staying close to the cabin. You had agreed, the symptoms of your pregnancy making it hard to do much of anything for long. Hunting and patrolling far too much for you to handle at the moment.
You were tending to the horses when he appeared behind you, arms snaking around your shoulders. The tickling of his facial hair sprouting giggles from you. The horses snickered, sharing in your delight. After securing them back in the modest stable, large hands were wrapping around you and sweeping you off of your tired feet.
“C’mon, princessa, let’s go have a nap.”
“But I don’t wanna,” You whined, not wanting to waste the sunshine while it was still showing, winters notoriously gray and overcast in this part of the region. The looming mountains casting dark shadows over pockets of land. Thankfully the cabin wasn’t in one of those regions, hidden well by the tall trees and stained a dark green all along the roof to avoid searching eyes to those at a higher altitude.
“Who said we were gonna sleep, silly girl?” Taylor swooped down to kiss you fully on the lips. Stirring warmth in your core. With a deep laugh at the chasing of your lips after his, he carefully rushed up the stairs and through the front door. “I’m gonna devour you, you’re too good looking a snack to leave untouched.”
“Oh hush,” You curled your hands into the long hair he had tied into a bun at the back of his head. Taking the band from around it and causing the strands to cascade around his handsome face.
“Glowing and full of me, carrying our baby in your pretty little tummy. Good god, you’re constantly on my mind, princessa, you’re my entire world.”
“And you’re mine, mi amor.”
Bubbling giggles flowed through the cabin as he made his way up the stairs and through the small landing. Into the bedroom that you found happiness in the midst of the fallen world.’
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#dev writes#fic: return the favor#tlou#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fanfic#the last of us#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#ellie williams#platonic ellie williams
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I just saw your essay on the codependency of FizzOzzie and it cleared up a lot of things I've been thinking about this ship and to be honest, I myself thought it was the most healthiest ship in the whole show even better than the trash that Stoliz is but well... (btw, I was trying to scroll through tumblr to find it but can you just link it for me so I coud read it again)?
It also brings me to an idea of the possibility brung up in two fics each with different ideas:
#1 if Hazbin's events every leak in Helluva's since they're the same universe, there's a possibility that Lucifer would want to have precautionary heirs for the defense of Hell and outright force Ozzie and any other relationships with lowerclass apart since it's "not compatible with angelic DNA" or some thing, so Ozzie could in fact leave Fizz because of his status
#2 Ozzie getting tired of Fizz... Ozzie is the sin of Lust after all and Lust can be ever-changing and capricious in its nature as a sin. Ozzie’s character, embodying Lust, might lead to a fluctuating commitment level, influencing his interactions and relationships. In biblical lore, he did end up causing a lot of sinful things like fucking a human named Sarah or so I remember?
Again this is the same guy who humiliated Blitzø in Ozzie, S2 just rewrote him completely (btw, in my rewrite I'mma change him to be more evil and instead give the whole "lovey-dovey Sin" idea to Satan who is female and thinks Asmodeu's "fake-love" is like a slap in the fact to her idea of realistic and true romance)
I'd just feel like Fizz would be better off with Blitzø tbh or Striker or all in a threesome... the possibilities are endless, and why is the show making love seem too fairytale and unrealistic?! Like Blitzø shouldn't have to fuck Stolas just because he was his arranged playmate for just one day??? The show did the childhood friends trope dirty and would be better if Stoliz was a thing until mid-teens broke up for [insert reason] and reconnect but honestly, Stolas should've had his own seperate season/arc dedicared to himself if HB was an anthology show
Also the fact that Asmodeus couldn't just burn the contract, one-shot the lawyer and go on a rampage to save Fizz is just beyond me... the Sins are supposed to be these scary demon lords so why aren't they, hm?
Sorry for rambling and what do you think or want to add?
Absolutely here you go.
The consistent failure of Vivziepop is to commit to a mature story. She describes her own protagonists as "Deeply flawed but understandably traumatized people who just need love to fix them" while the villains of her shows are "irredeemable" (and women, but that's a tangent).
I mentioned before that trying to use the excuse of the setting being Hell and playing that out to the logical conclusion would end up exactly like Good Omens. The whole moral of said show being that imperfect humanity is worth saving, that life is worthy and beautiful for its own sake of existence. That is why the story of Good Omens uses the Bible, angels, and demons to tell it's story, to make that point.
Why is Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel set in Hell? What is being said by the plot, themes and story? So far we have that demons are better people than the Angels in Hazbin. That sacrifice is the only virtue worthy of redemption and thus reinforces backwards Christian ideals of penance.
Personally, I would have made Hell less absurd. Less a place of debauchery and chaos and more a mere continuation of life. We see in the Hazbin Pilot a character falls from the sky and says "I'm alive?" Before being hot by Travis' car. The point being that people just transition from one life to the next and in that they keep living life the way they always have.
My personal criticisms of the series' use of Hell is that it established this idea that people only behave if they have a god to fear. Once in Hell, there is no salvation, so why bother. It's like a Christian asking an atheist why they wouldn't commit murder if they don't believe in God. The answer is that people like order and security. People dying would seek to maintain their status quo from life. A lack of salvation wouldn't change that for them.
And frankly, I wouldn't have redemption be a thing. This story and its messages are actively devalued by the act of redeeming sinners when the Angels are just the same as them. By having Hell just be a warped continuation of life on Earth, it makes the message more universal: Life is Hell. Life is suffering in a way Hell can never hope to be. Physical anguish and torment for all eternity can never amount to the pain of the fleeting and the terror of change and uncertainty.
I would have made it impossible to be redeemed because the fact is, regardless what you believe happens after death, what we know we have is life. We fear death so much we have created salvation throughout history, the wish to keep living forever in some way. But, especially for young people, life is harder now than ever before. It's more terrifying and uncertain and cruel and uncaring.
So if life is Hell, how do you be happy?
That would have been my thesis for the show. The message underneath is all about finding happiness in the absence of salvation. Even the idea that maybe salvation is something we should reject to really feel what it means to be alive. Giving up on our deaths and seeking our own fulfillment, and in that finding community, love, and hope. To see true humanity as something selfish and kind at the same time.
That's how I would have taken the concept.
#hazbin critical#helluva boss criticism#helluva boss critical#hazbin hotel critical#vivziepop critical#ask and answer
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i need more tommy x red content, i feel like all of their interactions would be so unintentionally funny, like red is trying her hardest to be nice and tommy is just so scared of her. however i can actually see tommy being one of the first people outside of the ellie and joel that red warms up to. but whenever joel and tommy gets into a little brotherly spat she can get a little mean with him.
😂 I'm doing this headcanon style just because I feel this would have to encompass a lot of different moments lol
Tommy doesn't realize what Joel means by Red being a little wild until a week into their settling down in Jackson because he makes the mistake of grabbing her backpack (mind you, he was just going to hand it to her, but he didn't know how she would react)
Instantly, she's stepping towards him and rationality is gone from her eyes making him drop the bag immediately as Joel steps between them with hands raised. His eyebrows are in his hairline as he watches his older brother try to placate her. He damn near feels like bolting when she moves around him and snatches her bag from the floor beside him, giving him a glare
It takes a good few drinks and forcing his brother to sit down and tell him who the fuck he brought into his town before Joel gives him her full story
She's not just rough around the edges, like he had gauged during that first meal when he met her. He had thought she was quiet, antisocial maybe. No, she's full on raised-by-wolves wild.
He avoids telling Maria for another week to keep from stressing her out. He wonders how the hell his brother found this woman.
This becomes unavoidable when the problems start. She almost breaks a guy's wrist when he puts his hand on her shoulder. Ellie is yelling at people in her defense. Grant comes back from their first patrol together, without Joel, beat to shit for flirting with her. She keeps pulling weapons out on people.
He knows Joel likes her. Hell, he thinks the man even loves her despite his grumblings, ambiguity, and avoidance of the topic. So he's stuck between caring for his brother and his town/wife's wishes.
He tries to bridge the barrier during family dinners and gets nothing at first. It takes a few dinners and a couple of hints from Ellie (who is so much like Sarah sometimes it hurts) before he manages to get her to talk about music. And for a while, she doesn't seem so bad as he watches her warm up and relax and look a little bit more human.
He brings up seeing concerts growing up with Joel before serving in the Army and when he tells her Springsteen was a better show than Johnny Cash, somehow it's like she's a different person as she debates with him.
"You're fucking out of your mind. You saw Cash and you thought Springsteen was better?" "Hey, I didn't say it was bad-" "Springsteen?" "Are you going to kill me if I said I also liked Bon Jovi more?" "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Lighter, quicker in her replies, more at ease. No stutters, no hesitancy. He can see what Joel means about those hints of her former self and he doesn't miss the smirk on his brother's face, even if Tommy is worried she's gonna kill him.
Things get tense when there is discussion of Red getting kicked out. He's the one that has to break it to Joel.
Maria is stressed after more incidents with Red and he's quick to suggest a different job. Less people, something she'd be more at ease with. The kennels were usually run by Jamie, the towns most experienced vet who was having to split time between the dogs and the horses and the farm animals. She's more than willing to have Red help.
Red takes to it quickly and Tommy can't help but feel proud of himself for the suggestion. Joel tells him he talked to her and she's trying even if it looks like torture for her. The incidents go down with the exception of the Harper problem. He makes it extremely clear to her she's to keep away from Red after Joel tells him what happened.
Red does well enough in the kennels that Maria thinks she's good to stay in their commune. The worry eases a bit and he can breathe.
Tommy often finds her there, sitting with the dogs, reading whatever books she can on training and caring for them. Jamie leaves some of her veterinarian texts for her to study and she's quick to focus on that. Joel tells him that when she has a goal, a job, she goes all in and it seems the dogs are her focus now.
He catches her there one day when he's returning Bailey back to her pen after a patrol. Usually they nod at each other and that's that, but he's almost startled out of his skin when she appears right behind him. He hadn't heard her at all. Sometimes she scares the shit out of him and he wonders if his brother has a death wish.
But she looks nervous and Tommy tries to be patient as she stutters out a sentence, almost looking frustrated at herself, "Um...it's getting colder...and, um, the puppies..." She takes a deep breath with clenched teeth and continues more evenly, "I don't want the pups to die and it's, um, too cold. Joel said I had to ask you."
He doesn't interrupt, tries to piece together what exactly she's asking and act like this was a normal situation, "You wantin' a heater installed in here for the dogs?"
She nods firmly before jumping to add (making him slightly flinch), "And the older dogs. The cold isn't good for their joints."
Maybe because he's trying to make an effort or because she doesn't ask for anything ever, but he's quick to agree even though it means arguing with the electrical team. He gets the heaters installed for her that week and even installs some insulation to help.
She seems a little less scary after that.
He's the one to find her when one of the senior dogs passes. She doesn't cry, but clings to his fur, laying on the ground, as if her warmth could bring him back. Part of him wants to go get Joel, but doesn't want to leave her alone. So he sits beside her, resting a hand on her back, and stays.
He helps her bury him and when she goes back to the pen, silent and closed off, then he goes and gets Joel. She stays there for a week until his brother manages to coax her back home.
It seems to break down some sort of wall between them. Even if she isn't exactly warm to him, he can tell there's less tension. He sees more hints of how she is with Joel and Ellie. She gets through a family dinner at his house and even throws a few more digs at his music tastes. When they're on patrol with Joel, she proves she is a much better shot than him and even laughs when he misses their designated target. Joel mutters "half a mile, my ass."
Old habits die hard. Joel was always the one to take charge, to tell him what to do. Now that Tommy is more in the leadership role they butt heads like before. They're arguing over construction plans and Joel is frustrated with Daniel, the man in charge of the project.
He knows Joel has more experience, but Maria had put Daniel in the head role and he wasn't going to undermine her. But his brother is on a rant about all the things the man is doing wrong and he's having to defend Maria's decision.
When things get more heated, Red is there. She doesn't say anything to him, but it's like having a live wolf in the room. He freezes at the way her eyes are blank, hollow, cold. One wrong move and she'd be on him, it didn't matter who he was. The argument ends if only so Joel can keep her from killing him over a dumb fight.
The line is clear. She'll protect her own against anyone. It terrifies him but he also respects it. Joel needs someone to watch his back.
Tommy doesn't realize how much she begins to grow on him until he happens upon her at the wood mill. The men are leering and one is giving her a hard time, obviously coming on to her. He knows she's trying. Trying to be less aggressive and reactionary, trying to keep her head down. But it's him that reacts when the guy grabs her arm firmly and doesn't let go. When she tries to shake him off and he spits out, "Maybe someone just needs to break you in, wild thing."
He doesn't think, old traits flaring back to life. Tommy socks the guy in the face. Hard.
The man hits the ground on his back hard and he just stands over him next to Red who looks unsure and a little surprised, a first for him to witness. But Tommy shakes his hand and hisses at the man, "Don't you lay a hand on anyone like that again, understood? Don't you even look at her ever or I'll break your fucking jaw. You can tell your buddies the same."
The rest of them don't say anything and he helps her grab what she needs before they leave.
They're walking back to Joel's house, his hand smarting a little and her holding the wood pieces she had gone to collect. They're almost at the house when she looks at him like she's trying to dissect every piece of him, split him open and analyze what makes him tick. It's uncomfortable but he stares back with what he hopes is an easy smile.
"You didn't have to do that," she mutters with a hard frown but he can hear the underlining words. Joel always said she has a hard time saying what she means. That you have to peek underneath what she's saying. You helped me, you came to my defense, why why why?
Tommy huffs and smiles a bit wider before patting her on the back. She doesn't flinch.
"I was just lookin' out for family, that's all."
#joel miller x feral reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x oc#series: feral#tommy miller#feral reader#raicodoll writes#anon asks#asks
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