#this has been in my drafts for a while but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1d1195 · 2 days ago

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Neighbors Extra VII

Read Neighbors here | ~1.8k words

From me: surprise! This has been in my drafts since I finished the original storyline

Warnings: none

Summary: It's the first s'mores fire of the summer. She and Harry are in love with their little life. And Rory hates lying.

“Hey lad,” Harry said. They were sitting on the couch watching the latest Disney movie that Rory had been asking to watch. Harry paused it and Rory looked at Harry curiously. He wondered if he forgot to put his shoes away or a different chore that Mumma asked before she left to see his Auntie. “D’you remember when y’went to the hospital cause y’were sick... and we ate pancakes the next morning?”

“I remember. Mumma made chocolate milk,” he nodded.

“Right,” Harry chuckled. The real highlight of that morning it seemed. “Do y’remember me asking if I could date, Mummy?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. For Rory, that was a weird question when it was asked. But he didn’t think too much of it in itself because he was little. Also, Harry was his best friend, so he didn’t really mind because it just meant he got to play with Harry more often. “Yeah, I remember.”

Harry smiled, took a deep breath. “Do y’think you’d be okay with me marrying Mummy?”

“What’s that? Like have Christmas with Mumma?” his little brow puckered together. “We already do that Harry, silly.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Rory was the cutest thing in the entire world. “That’s merry with an e, lad. I said marry with an a. D’you know what marry means?”

He shook his head. “I hearded it once in a movie.”

Harry smiled and looked at his hands a moment before he looked up at the now six-year-old. “I ask Mummy if she wants t’marry me and if she says yes, I have t’give Mummy a ring t’put on her finger. And then we would have a big party.”

“I like parties,” Rory smiled impishly nodding his head.

Harry laughed quietly again and nodded. “Me too. All of our friends and family would come and... well I’d be Mummy’s husband and she’d be my wife.”

Rory knew those words from kindergarten. His teacher had a husband. “Wouldn’t you be my dad, then?”

Swallowing nervously, Harry nodded. He was wondering if Rory would think about that. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I thought you already were,” Rory shrugged casually.

Harry chuckled. He could have cried if he wasn’t trying so hard to keep it together. “Well thanks, lad. I kind of think so too. This would make it a bit more real.”

“Would you and Mumma have another baby?”

“Maybe,” Harry smiled. He certainly hoped so.

“I think Mumma would like a girl,” he told Harry. “So then she would have someone to play with like I play with you.”

Harry smiled. “So I can marry her?”

“Does this mean you have to kiss more?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Probably.”

“I still don’t like kissing,” he grumbled.

“I know, lad. We won’t kiss that much in front of you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “You can marry her. Can we finish the movie?”

Harry pulled Rory into his arms and gave him a huge hug and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Rory,” Harry said knowingly.

“I love you too, Harry,” he giggled.

“Mumma, do we have s’mores stuff?” Rory asked.

“Hmm... let me go look,” she said. “I’ll get some drinks, too. Do you want anything in particular, baby?” She asked looking at Harry.

Harry’s heart warmed at her kindness as always. “M’fine, kitten, thank you.”

“Careful around the fire, boys,” she said as she headed back for the house to look for supplies and drinks. Rory was sitting patiently by the fire while Harry kept an eye on him and the flames. Glancing toward the gate leading out toward the front he saw a single hand wave over top and then a thumbs up.

“Hey lad, d’you remember our conversation from a couple weeks ago? When I asked you if I could marry Mummy?”

He nodded watching the flames. “We’ll have a party, right?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes,” he nodded. “Would y’want t’help me ask Mummy?” He wondered.

He shrugged. “Sure!” He wasn’t doing anything at the moment. Mumma and Harry always said he was a really good helper too.

“Good,” Harry grinned. “M’gonna ask her when she comes back out. D’you think y’can give her this?” He asked, handing him a card from the back of his chair’s pocket compartment. He nodded. “Tell her y’made it at school and y’want to give it to her now,” he winked.

“That’s lying, Harry,” Rory pouted and shook his head. “Mumma doesn’t like lying.”

Shoot. Harry forgot that Rory was the sweetest little boy in the world. “You’re right. S’a little fib, I promise she’ll forgive you. This is the one time.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. Rory really wanted to help Harry. But he did not like the idea of lying to Mumma. She would get really mad. “I promise this one is okay,” Harry said again.

Rory sighed and nodded. “Okay... just this once though.”

Harry nodded and crossed over his heart. “Just this once.”

“Alright boys,” she said returning with her arms full, silencing Harry’s prep work. “I have the goods. Are we ready for the first s’mores fire of the summer?” She said wrinkling her nose so cutely as she settled the stuff on the nearby patio table. Harry glanced at the gate once more and then back to her.

“Here, love,” Harry said moving to her side and pressing a hand on her lower back. “Let me,” he smiled. “You sit,” he said pressing a kiss on the side of her head so gently she wondered what that was all about. It was just s’mores. And she liked s’mores. She was good at making them and didn’t mind in the slightest. But it was nice as always for Harry to just do things for her after so many years of having to do everything on her own. Even when he did little things like scooping Rory up from his car seat or carrying the groceries in, it just made everything so much easier for her.

She thought about the month and a half she tried avoiding Harry. It was by far the stupidest thing she had ever done, and she wondered often what would have happened if she never got over her silly fears. But fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long, because Harry was right there, making s’mores for her and Rory like he always did.

“Mumma, I made this in school,” Rory said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. Rory looked at Harry impishly as he handed the envelope to his mum. Good thing this would be the only lie. He was a little worse for wear on the delivery.

“For me?” She smiled curiously and took the envelope in her fingers. She slid open the top.

“Uh-huh,” Rory giggled sheepishly.

Harry glanced at the gate again and then held his breath as she pulled the card from the envelope. “What’s it say, Mumma?” Rory giggled and if she hadn’t already been reading the words on the card, she would have realized Rory had no part in this little scheme.

She turned suddenly after her eyes scanned the card once and she looked at Harry with wild eyes. “Harry?” She asked nervously.

“Harry said I could lie,” Rory said quickly seeing her discomfort and was worried he would get in trouble. He didn’t like it when Mumma was mad at him. Mumma was the best and didn’t ask Rory to do anything except to not lie. “Just this once,” he promised.

“That’s okay, love bug,” she said softly barely looking at him as she did. Relieved that he wasn’t going to upset Mumma, Rory sat back in his chair and waited for Harry to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

For once, she ignored Rory. Her eyes stayed on Harry as she felt her heart nearly beat out of her ribs. “What does it say, beautiful?” Harry smiled. His eyes were so gentle.

“It says ‘Life is s’more fun with you, will you spend the rest of it with me?’” She read carefully.

Harry bit his lip. “It is s’more fun with you,” he repeated, and he moved in front of her chair and knelt between the fire and her. “Will you marry me?” It was amazing Harry could be so hopelessly in love with her and have her still be so surprised that she was deserving of love that was so all encompassing, Harry sometimes wondered how he could stay upright.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly and her eyes darted to Rory so briefly, but Harry still caught it.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, really, you silly, sweet thing,” he rolled his eyes. “M’horribly in love with you and would like t’spend the rest of our lives together,” he repeated. “Please marry me?” He repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, just say yes!” Her sister’s voice distinctly called from the front gate.

“You brought my sister here?” She asked with a teary giggle.

“Auntie?!” Rory shouted and ran for the gate.

“Um... I brought everyone... I really anticipated you saying ‘yes’ a lot quicker than this,” he chuckled awkwardly. Rory opened the gate, and the entourage of people Harry invited came through the gate. Her eyes lifted to look at them so briefly she barely saw who was in attendance. Her eyes returned to Harry knelt before her waiting expectantly for her answer. “I’ll beg if you want,” he said softly with a grin.

“Mumma, look! Grandma’s here!”

She smiled and waved to her mom standing beside Anne and Gemma who were watching with such happy smiles. “You really want to marry me?” She asked softly. As if no one was in the backyard except her and Harry.

“Very badly,” he nodded, and he pulled the box from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he smiled gently. The diamond glittered in the sun so beautifully. Harry was wonderful. He always was and this was no exception. But she closed the box quickly as she answered.

“I’d marry you without it,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shook his head at her. “So that’s a yes?” Harry had never felt so happy. He didn’t think she would say no, but he knew she could convince herself she didn’t deserve happiness if he gave her enough time.

“God, yes,” she nodded and giggled excitedly. She leaned forward as Harry moved toward her as well and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“You said no kissing!” Rory called.

She laughed against his lips, ignoring her son’s protest and continued kissing Harry. “I’ll love you forever,” she promised.

Harry grinned, nodded, and kissed her again as he mumbled against her lips. “And then some.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

neighbors taglist: @mopeymousey @vmpellie

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #neighbor!harry #harry styles sad #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction writing #neighbors

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allieinarden · 3 days ago

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See the problem is that in the post-90s iteration of The Simpsons bizarre stuff is always happening to Homer and his family because he is an incurable seeker of chaos, but in the 90s Simpsons bizarre stuff is always happening to Homer and his family because his boss is amnesiacally obsessed with him.

#The Simpsons #This has been in my drafts for a while but I realized it’s too real to just leave there

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ginnsbaker · 5 hours ago

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All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado…

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!”

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that?

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles.

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?” You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse.

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town.

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you.

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her.

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms.

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need.

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it.

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #oneshots #fic request #wandavision #monica rambeau #darcy lewis #jimmy woo #All Of Your Pieces #AOYP

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half-oz-eddie · 1 day ago

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Some of my Autistic Tommy and ADHD Buck headcanons (This has been in my drafts for months)

Bucktommy spooning but as soon as Buck is in a deep sleep Tommy is rolling onto his own pillow and rolling Buck up in a blanket like a burrito because he cannot sleep while cuddling.

Tommy "if I don't write it down it doesn't exist" Kinard and Evan "I write everything down" Buckley

Buck constantly talks during movies to share trivia about the film or the actors and Tommy has to pause it because too many sounds at once means everything gets tuned out and he wants to hear Buck

If Tommy is really tired he will not watch Buck cook because watching him move around the kitchen so quickly is overwhelming

Buck likes a bright room when he reads and cooks and sometimes Tommy will bury his face in Buck's chest to avoid the light when he wants to keep him company while he reads

They're both pen biters

They both like watching everything with captions

If the TV volume is louder than 3 when Tommy is tired, it's too loud.

Buck will put something down and forget where he put it. Tommy will tell him that he put the thing in question where it belongs. They may or not bicker about it. Depends on the kind of day they had.

Tommy is not wearing socks in the house. Buck might though.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #neurodivergent bucktommy

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threepandas · 2 days ago

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Bad End: Actions Speak

"Be Silent."

Those were the first words commanded to me by the High Dragon Prince of the South. He did not want to hear me. Did not want to see me. To even be forced to endure, my obnoxious, insignificant, human presence. Any more then he absolutely had too. If it weren't for the fact that I had magic? He likely would have preferred to have me killed.

Just like the others.

I was a prisoner of war. One, which? I had no choice but to take part in. Had been drafted, by the humans. Only to be captured, by the dragons. All I had wanted? From my second chance at life? Was to live quietly. Study magic. Enjoy what I could not, before. Instead? I got warfare. Fear. The constant threat of death.

They needed me to open confidential human intelligence. Reverse engineer defenses and weapons. My safety and quality of life? Depended entirely on my compliance. And? If those reports and devices happened to be trapped to hell 'n back? By Mages FAR more skilled then myself?

Do it anyway. You are replaceable. Either you succeed... or you die.

You... hah... y-you really...

Really can say, I guess, n-now I know...? That...

That you really DO learn faster, under fire. Enduring pain curses. Fighting lethal curses, for your very life. Fire and drowning attacks. Lightning. Wind spells meant to choke the life of out of me, by sucking out all the air from my lungs. They... they really were creative, weren't they? My old colleagues.

Yes, sadistic, in ways I had never imagined. But also? Very, very creative.

I had the scars to prove it now.

All the while, as commanded, I did not talk. Did not DARE. Still do not. Even as I am shoved around. Dragged from tent to tent, building to building. Hurried along, like an inconvenience. A faulty, inefficient, piece of machinery, that dares eat their food and breathe their air. Slow and lagging, but sadly? Oh, sadly. They could not find better.

But I endure. Survive. I do not talk, so I can not offer. I give them nothing more then they demand. Malicious compliance. Nothing more, nothing less, then EXACTLY as you commanded, oh Wardens mine. My Keepers, foul and wretched. The holders of my chains. Someday... someday, this war will end. Or I will die, my luck running out, at long, long last.

And I?

I Will Be Free.

Once, long before this all, I had heard rumors. They say that talented humans, magically gifted humans, tended to be kept as glorified, pampered little pets, in the Vampiric lands. It... it sounds nice, now. To worry for nothing. To be protected. Adored and provided for, like some exquisite house cat, lounging in the sun. I could study again. Find someone nice.

....I worry.

You see, I... I think...

I may be breaking, around the edges of myself. Hairline fractures, born of stress. It's the isolation. Surrounded as I am. None of them are human, none of them will talk to me, at me. Anything at all. They follow the lead of their Prince. And he? Oh, he has made his distain for humanity clear.

Which begs the question. Why is he here?

Or rather, why am I? Dragged, from the ratty little cloth hovel they call "my tent", by the worn and patched to incoherence cloak I now wear, straight to the central command tent. Where the Prince is. The generals. The beating heart of the army itself. Dumped on the ground at his feet, I was fully expecting that to be it. That this would be the day.

They had found a better, less worn down, mage. A stronger one. A more obedient one. My services would no longer be... required.

I sat there. In the dirt. Eyes locked on his feet and waited. Palms splayed against the floor. Why bother fight? If I did THAT, they'd use me as "an example" for the NEXT mage. No. No, better to go quick. I had been reborn once. T-there was a possibility... however small... it... it might? Happen again?

Please, Gods. Please Gods, let it happen again.

But no. I was told, with judgment in his voice, by some general, to "get up". Ha! As though they were not directly responsible for my beaten down state. How dare. How DARE he judge me? I owed them nothing. Refused to die, in some short sighted tantrum of honor or pride.

I would LIVE, damn it. I MUST live. For how ever long I could. I wanted to be free again. To read and travel, do magic for magics sake. Never... NEVER see another dragon again.

Perhaps that was hateful. But damn it... I... I was so tired.

Nonetheless, I stood. Looked at no one and said nothing. Just an empty, ragged cloak with flesh inside. I am not here. I do not suffer. Unfocus your eyes and be far away. Yes, that's right, I tell myself, far... far away. It's like meditation. Just... ride the flow of magic. Do not call it. Merely observe. Let the colors drag you in. Be washed away. Far, far away.

I hear and do not hear, there. See and do not see. They can not touch me, can not hurt me, there is nothing and everything, in the Magics. It is... so... so BeAuTiFuL.

No wonder so many are lost. Drift and never come back.

I play a dangerous game, here.

But they can not hurt me.

No one can.

In here.

No answer comes then. But I am expected to work. Perhaps it is a show? Or they wish to verify, that I am indeed, doing what they keep me alive for. Nonetheless, I sit, in the corner, silent as I got to work. As old colleagues try to stop my heart, freeze my blood, rupture my organs. As burns roar over my skin and lightning crackles against canvas walls.

I do not scream. That would be too close to "speaking". I am not fool enough to give them an excuse. There is a belt I can bite. I use it often. Will have to salvage another, as this one is falling to pieces. That and a silencing spell? My screaming is muted.

Getting better at healing magic, I think. Either I have learned to numb the pain or I may have nerve damage. I doubt, now, that I will ever win awards. For my beauty. Too many scars. My arms are a wreck. My hands a travesty. It is nothing short of a miracle, that I have not LOST any fingers, to this.

Why am I here? Why? Why?

At least in my little hovel, I can curl up and weep. Emote. Can take breaks between bouts of pain and battles of magic. But here? Like a machine, stacks are dumped before me, and I am expected to perform. Do or die, human. We can always find another.

Through it all, haunting golden eyes watch. My pain, my exhaustion, all observed, giving away nothing, by that impassive royal face. I don't know what he WANTS.

Finally, after weeks of considering me, he decides to tell me. Comes to some conclusion, no input required. Why would it be? Of course. He is a High Prince. His power is great, his honor and name without equal. Why would he need MY input on anything.

"Did I know," he asked me, voice ponderous and musing, "That of all the mages his people have captured... I had lived the longest?"

I had not. But it did not suprise me.

He sat, considering me, splayed back in his chair like it was a throne, every bit the picture of a royal. A portrait of the man he was born to be. But the distain... the distain? Had... lessened. Not gone. Never gone. Gods, no. We peons were beneath him. Especially I, a mere human. But? Apparently I was not longer quite so wretched.

Our dear High Prince decided I should get a better tent. A new cloak. Actual medical supplies. What wonders.

It made me nervous. What cost, did these things come with? What expectation? Loyalty? I had offered none and never will. That would quickly become a problem. Still, I kept my head down. Always, always, keep your head down. Let the dragons die, for their stupid fucking war.

No longer replaceable. I discovered.

In the next big attack, as there was ALWAYS a next one, I wasn't evacuated last. As attacks fell. But FIRST, as the soilders were arriving. I was... was "essential personal". Shoved in an evac cart with the fancy strategists.

They started deliberately capturing mage supplies. Books and spell papers, chalks and high quality inks. Not just to disarm their opponents. Oh no. But to give to ME. I had... I had NEVER gotten supplies. The last time I had actually, truely, desperately, needed ink? I had been forced to use my own blood.

My hands actually shook. Touching such richs now. It overwhelmed, after so long, with nothing. I... I had healing books. Could actually look things up!

Curling up, before the piles of crates they dumped in front of my little tent, I didn't care, if they saw me cry. On my knees like an acolyte before the alter. Finally. FINALLY! Answers, armaments, and supplies. Relief, after so long? Was rain on desert sands. Burned skin left tender and screaming, to the cleansing mercy, of the softly weeping skies.

This, too, the High Prince saw.

No where to store them, of course. A gift given then taken away. Held just out of reach. Just long enough to give hope. All the better to torment you with it. Oh where we would we store, your useless little trinkets, human?

But I refuse to play the game. Fine. Take them. Take it all.

I need nothing.

Retreat into the Magics. They can not hurt me. I am not here. Far, far away. I am far, far away.

The High Prince, lounging and watchful, seems to have decided. No. The human things will go to him, actually, not to the fire. He watches with strange, considering eyes. In fact? I will make my self useful. Show my gratefulness. He is using valuable storage space on me, so I am to come before him and study. Prove it is worth it.

Is he not gracious? Now press your face to the dirt in thanks, human. Bow and scrape. Be glad, be honored, that your Liege is so kind.

He does not disagree, as they tell me these things. Why would he? They are his due. I think... I think I hate him. Hate them all. But the pull of books, of proper supplies, is simply too powerful. Back to that wretched tent I go. Under the staring eyes that dissect me so. Finally, I can heal my aching body.

He watchs me. As I study, improve, learn and grow. As old books are taken from me, shipped away somewhere, beyond my reaching, and new ones arrive. I desperately make notes. Hope those notes will be enough. Work and suffer and bleed. Somewhere, in the camp, I sense others.

The come and go. Bright lights that flare and then dim. Struggling and struggling, before finally going out. Some faster then others. The objects and messages they have me working on now? Are truely nasty. Again and again, I see the crests of Nobel houses and royal seals. How powerful, I wonder, have I become? Or is it simply... specialized?

A gift, for not dying.

Over the camp walls, I have begun to recognize the surroundings. The mountains and the valleys. The trees, in bloom. It seems wrong, that the world should be so beautiful, as everything is ending. The nation I grew up in, is falling. But... but we passed Heartriver two weeks back. And THAT? Was well within the border.

And from HERE... I can see the school.

The University of Magics. All I had ever wished, was to return. But... but not like this, never like this. I'm... gods. Oh Gods, I'm sorry. For my weakness. For not choosing to die. For not running at all, before it all began. I should have. But... but I was a coward. And now everyone else, must pay the price.

I stand outside my pathetic little tent and watch the horizon smoke. Burn.

Dragons are so very, very fond of fire.

Far away... j-just go far away... the Magic will always take you. Is always kind. Towards the tent I go. I remind myself, as I force myself to move, one step in front of the other? That if the worst comes to worst? I can just... Let Go. Go DEEP. So deep that no one and nothing can ever find me again. So far away, my body forgets I ever lived at all.

Just... just a soul. Floating along like a jellyfish, in the beautiful Allthings. The light and void, the far away and gone. I-It wouldn't even hurt. Just be like... like letting go of a balloon. I could be that balloon. Disappear into endless starlight...

But... BUT! I wont.. I can't! Not yet. Not until every other path has burned. Last resort. Only, ONLY, as a last resort.

(I refuse to acknowledge... how comforting the knowledge is. That I have a plan at all. A way out.)

Entering the tent, I head for "my table". At the High Prince' feet like a dog. A lovely little carpet, comfortable little pillows, a low table to work on. It would... honestly? It would be a lovely place setting. A delightful workstation. If it were not the context. The obvious, blatant, demeaning context.

Sit at his feet and behave. Be good and you're rewarded, be bad and you're punished. Brought little treats at HIS command? Sit on a pillow, on the floor, as they talk over your head? Ha ha... I? I half expected to one day show up to find someone holding a fucking collar.

If they fucking tried? I was going to set everything on FIRE. Even I, had limits.

However, it was just the Prince and I. Uncomfortable, but I could ignore him. Walking for my humiliating little seat, I noticed him watching me. Slowed. Why... why was he watching me? Awkwardly I paused. Did NOT want to be kneeling in front of a man that was staring that intently at me. Especially not so closely to a man, staring like that. The vibes were... off.

"Did you know, pet, that we actually have several rather old alliances amoung the Vampiric Royal Houses?" He said, breaking the strange silence.

'Pet, huh? Good to know he's at least fucking AWARE. I did NOT consent to that!' I seethe, in my head.

"It's been bothering me, you see. Your wretched state." He continues, completely unbothered that he might as well be talking to a statue. I stare, seethe, would give a limb at this point, to set him on fire. "You've suffered unbearably and I've done nothing to correct it, even though I could. We needed you for the war effort, you see, but now? Now, pet, we're nearly done. And I can finally care for you properly."

"Reward you, properly." The bastard says, calm and oh so reasonable, as though I had anything to do with him willingly.

"Honestly, it's long over due. The second I realized I wanted you as Mine, I should have stepped up to care for you properly. Officially. But, sadly, it would have been a conflict of interest. An abuse of power. Now, however? Now I can finally call on our allies for their support. Get you the medical assistance you so badly require."

A pleased smile stole across his face as he considered me.

"You'll make a lovely vampire. It was selfish of me, to cheat you of the years turning you sooner would have given you, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Our people needed us. I can swear to you now, pet, you will forever remain my favorite, even if I take a Queen."

Horror was like a gut punch, deliver by a fighter jet. I felt immediately and intensely sick. W-what? Frozen so completely I nearly forgot to breathe, I looked for ANY sign he may be joking. Exaggerating. But... but no. W-WHAT?? How. WHEN? At what point, in my torment? In my UTTER SILENCE? Did this man "fall in love"?!

H-How can you LOVE a women you've never-?! No. No, I KNEW how.

You decide you like the IDEA of them. The shape of their body. You project onto them your OWN narrative and decide it is a love story. Fuck. FUCK!! I was... this was... no no NO! I REFUSED. Like HELL was I could to live, trapped for DECADES if not CENTURIES, the pretty little war bride of a tyrant!

The High Prince gets up and walkes towards me. Sweeps me into terrifyingly powerful arms. When he smiles? There are fangs. Deadly and hardly the comfort he thinks they are. We are a laughable contrast. Richs and rags, power and prisoner, royal and the woman who might just burn the world to escape. Shit. SHIT. I was scared of him before.

And that's BEFORE he decided he loved me.

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yanblr #reader insert #powerful yandere #power imbalance #trapped reader #tw sui ideation #she IS trapped n not cool with that #pow reader #tw power imbalance #tw pow #tw war mention #yandere dragon #royal yandere #entitled asshole yandere #bad end actions speak #bad end actions speak au

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tofics · 2 days ago

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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)

Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”

What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it.

Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” “I said yes,” you snap. Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.

😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.

S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.

“Your glasses broke.” “Yeah. I see that.” “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.” “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.”

“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.

S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

🫡 Sir yes, sir.

“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”

I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary.

😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.

Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.

🫠🙃🫠🙃

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

*inhales* - *screams*

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”

😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!

“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”

The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”

😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.

Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder.

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.”

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.”

“Mhm.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.”

You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps.

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.”

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.”

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice.

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”

“I said yes,” you snap.

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.”

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being -

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected.

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.”

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.”

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.”

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song.

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.”

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.”

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch.

“The other one.”

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace.

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him.

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?”

“Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.”

“No. It was burning me.”

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.”

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.”

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you.

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.”

“You can ask, you know.”

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.”

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.”

“Yes.”

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?”

“It’s not your business.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.”

“I don’t want to,” you whine.

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.”

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.”

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.”

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip.

“All of it.”

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.”

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?”

“Somewhere else.”

“Right. Somewhere else.”

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you.

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?”

“Yes.”

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.”

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck.

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass.

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is.

“Joel.”

No answer.

“JOELLLL,” you yell.

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.”

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?”

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.”

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?”

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too.

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you.

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel.

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now.

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper.

“Exactly.”

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says.

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs.

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while.

“Figures.”

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that.

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it.

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before.

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure.

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized.

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.”

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it.

And fucks you, and fucks you.

And keeps fucking you.

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.”

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle.

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?”

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

“But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.”

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.”

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.”

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head.

“Super, yeah. Sore.”

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.

#read list #joel miller #fic rec

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teeldaa · 1 day ago

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I wanted to rant a little about Wyll , Mizora and Raphael,their prewrite versions and my issue with how Larian wrote devils and cambions in general and some theories :p This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, I got sick and completely forgot about it ...I think i got carried away with my Raphael theories, because of that i wasn't even sure if I wanted to post this or not(warning:a lot of yapping) And sorry in advance for my bad English :p

Wyll and Mizora first thing that bothers me is i see a lot of people saying Larian rewrote Wyll because EA players didn't like him, but that's not true?!I was looking through Larian's interviews, they either said they’ve redone Wyll because it wasn't working for them, they lost a little bit of narrative room for telling all these stories that he had(x) or they weren’t telling his story as well as they could have done(x)so it was Larian's decision and not players feedback. Pre rewrite Wyll: He wasn't related to Ulder Ravengard, he was a descendant of Grand Duke Eltan,the founder and leader of the Flaming Fist.these are the lines that were datamined during ea(source)

Although Duke Eltan founded the flaming fists, his family had to sell their interest to pay off debt... in the release version if Wyll doesn't sign the contract with Mizora and Florrick is still in jail Cordula Eltan confronts him about Ulder(might be an Easter egg)

after getting caught for thieving, Wyll was sent to flaming fists by his father.he pointed out that he wasn't a good fighter and didn't fit in well there and then one day Spike and his fellow goblins attacked the village

this is the part that a lot of people miss,you could only get these lines if you modded the ea to play as origin Wyll(x) when confronting Fezzerk the narrator said these

Your belly crash into memory, Spike was the one who slashed out your eye this one held your head while he did it

The bile rises in your throat, you hate this cockroach, you hate his chief ,You hate…yourself you'd been selfish,lazy,lustful. you'd all but invited goblins to a slaughter

and If you made Wyll torture the prisoner, Spike would say"The Blade always knew how to throw a party!" So I guess Goblins used throwing a party as an excuse to trick Wyll into letting them in!

I think what they were going for with Wyll was... A nobleman who had to meet high expectations put on him by his status and his dad, went through a very traumatic experience(humiliated, injured, witnessed the slaughter of an entire village)and had no way of fighting back! he was in need of rescue and had no one to help him, so he took Mizora's deal and became the blade of frontiers to prevent that from happening to other people?!

I often see it being said EA Wyll was a "fake hero" or a "glory hound" or … which are not true, He was the only companion who prioritized saving the tiefling refugees over finding a cure, was ready to die for them and would have left the party if you sided with Minthara. He wasn't "evil" he just had more flaws... Wyll decided to break his pact after Mizora asked him to pay "a price he wasn't willing to pay", they were arguing then got kidnapped by mind flayers. these lines are from modded Wyll origin(x) said by the narrator:

one moment you'd been bartering with Mizora for freedom. the next whisked away by tentacle monsters

what was it Mizora had said?oh yes- 'over your rotting corpse'

Spike found Mizora's pod and put a collar around her neck that neutralized all her powers, She communicated with Wyll through his eye and promised to free him if he saved her. Before the party got to the goblin camp, drow came and took Mizora to Moonrise tower and apparently they had"big plans"for her I think this version of Mizora was working for her father based on these dialogues(x)

Mizora: Get .Me .Out of here Wyll: and if i don't? Mizora: then my father will. and your eternal soul will be his.

maybe that "big plans"had to do something with her dad?! The lines that implied she and Wyll might had been romantically involved at some point were these:

Wyll: Don't tell me - someone came to you, an object of desire. made you better. More than better Wyll: Same happened to me. Tav: Someone, yes. who was it you saw? Wyll: An old lover. tempting as a trail of rose petals, and just as fragrant.

and for anyone wondering what does she smell like...

Tav: Tell me more about this old flame of yours. Wyll: A giver and taker. without her, id hardly be who i am, for both better and worse

I kinda get why they decided to change their dynamic, but they made it so much worse... what Wyll and Mizora had was a toxic codependent relationship with a power imbalance but the game was taking it more seriously...in his act1 romance scene You could hug him and make him feel safe. the only datamined Wyll/Mizora interaction we had was this! and this version Mizora is way better! She didn't treat Wyll like a "dog" or use weird degrading pet names. i wish they kept her straightforward and no-nonsense attitude, she had so much personality, probably more content and plot relevancy too She was already lawful evil and the game made that very clear, making Mizora treat Wyll in a super dehumanizing way was just unnecessary in my opinion and it didn't do neither of them any favors. the release version Mizora supposed to be a cambion but she's not really written like one. the most important part of cambions lore is that they are outcasts! They grow up very lonely because they are never accepted by either society, Even in the bg3 artbook it is mentioned that they have to be resourceful to survive "as the forsaken of two races"

They're not always evil, they can be neutral or even rarely good(depending on their mother's alignment). I feel like they were doing a way better job with datamined version of Mizora, You could actually see her half human side more. Tying Wyll to Karlach's story was a bad idea… Zariel's characterization feels kinda off(Karlach called her the biggest liar in all the realms??)and Mizora doesn't exactly seem like the type of person who works for her...Zariel is a warmonger obsessed with stopping the Blood War because if the demons win they will conquer the Material Plane and start destroying things, she's more of a“the ends justify the means” type of evil. Zariel is not into politics of hell, i feel like Wyll should have been forced to fight in the blood war just like Karlach because that's the only thing Zariel cares about. and...if Zariel doesn't own Karlach's soul then why does she want her dead?!Shouldn't Mizora order Wyll to capture her alive?so she can take her back to Avernus? i find it kinda odd there's not an option to ask Mizora to remove your tadpole. I think she should be able to that, In that datamined interaction she had this dialogue:

That's an illithid tadpole in your brain, let it fester for long and you'll be birthing a squid from your head hole. You want that thing out? Brush the dust out of your eye and get over here.

And bg3 has a prequel comic called "Mindbreaker"and a devil(an erinyes who served Bel) did remove an absolute tadpole...

Wyll's transformation into a devil confuses me! The dialogues makes it look much more significant than it actually is...it's just horns, i wonder if Larian was originally going for a more drastic change, bg3 concept art Devils have very distinct features... and btw Mizora turning Wyll into a devil should have cure him, ceremorphosis doesn't affect fiends...

I feel like if they didn't tie Wyll's story to Karlach and didn't change his father, they could have kept most of Wyll's previous content like his ea romance scene which was great And it could still work for the current Wyll. Was all that changes really necessary? And they didn't even give Wyll a unique starting outfit when his Keyart Armor was already in the game files and it looks perfect on him.

Mizora's father Just for fun, there was this Harbs Narbs theory(x) that Mizora's father was Levistus(Archdevil of Stygia) Levistus is the Infernal patron of vengeance and betrayal,His followers are called bladereavers.he is an honorable duelist and his favored weapon is a rapier in that video he said that blade of frontiers tag gave Wyll an automatic rapier proficiency and armor of agathys(Levistus tieflings have that spell) ...and the spell" Tomb of Levistus" was datamined Levistus is described as a tall humanoid male with dark hair, a neat goatee and an extremely pale complexion but would be able pass for a human if not for his pointed teeth and coal-black eyes that practically radiated darkness. Mizora concept art also happen to have "extremely pale complexion" "coal-black eyes"and looks more human compared to other devil and cambion designs...

(I really like this design, specially those small blades that are hanging from her dress. I think the outfit she's wearing now in the game was supposed to be for her human disguise and this was for her devil form) I couldn't find anything else about Wyll, But i think he suffered the most from the upper city getting cut. I am very curious about his EA version's father and his role in the main plot...He probably was the main focus of Wyll's quest in act 3(because Mizora was supposed to end Wyll's contract if he freed her from Moonrise) I imagine this version of Mizora could also become a camp follower, She was tortured badly by goblins so it makes sense that she would help us defeat The Absolute...

Probably not a hot take, but I don't think they should have completely rewritten his entire character that late in development(Just to be clear, I like release Wyll and i think Theo Solomon did an incredible job voicing him.I just wish the narrative treated him better) I completely understand why someone would prefer the current version he's a sweet, loyal and brave folk hero but in my opinion he would have been more popular and resonated with more people if they kept his old self. EA Wyll was more charismatic, chaotic and extroverted, He had A LOT of struggles and flaws but he was trying his best to overcome them and that made him more relatable. The difference between EA Wyll and release Wyll to me is like the difference between Batman and Superman, Batman has a way bigger fandom and more films, games, cartoons and...even though Superman is this uncorruptible and aspirational symbol of hope with so many cool super powers. Another thing I like more was how they were doing the warlock/patron dynamic. The relationship was much more personal and complicated and original version of Mizora was superior in every way (I could be wrong, but I always assumed from the way Wyll talked about the powers Mizora was giving him that the whole thing was some kind of allegory for addiction) that's all i had to say about Wyll and Mizora...

Raphael first the stuff they cut

the most important thing that got cut was his deal that he could solve your tadpole issue in exchange of your soul

in this interview Senior Writer Adam Smith said this:

In one situation, for instance, a devil will approach players with a bargain for their soul. That might seem like an offer to immediately reject, but that deal might also help players understand and control the change happening to their character as the result of a magical parasitic infection.

and in this one Swen Vincke said he is a potential solution for the tadpole problem:

even in the first encounter he says "Oh, A mere trifle. How dear is one's soul, Really?" when you ask him what he wants. ...so i guess that means you could have had Raphael as your patron?!

it was datamined that he wanted the artefact (x) not the crown

the person that supposed to be inside the artefact, helping you and not letting you turn was Orpheus, so Raphael wanted him...for some reason!

there is also this List of All Cut Content!apparently Raphael supposed to be a Merchant and soul coins were there for trading with him...

Raphael the Merchant - Originally Raphael was meant to be a fully viable option to remove your tadpole, in fact the "Soul Coin" items that you collect in game where originally meant to be a powerful alternative currency accepted only by Raphael in exchange for possibly retrieving your soul as well as a long list of incredibly powerful artifacts from the House of Hope that would be sold by Raphael himself.

originally Karlach didn't have her Infernal Engine(x)so that's probably true!

in early access If you didn't give Gale magical any artifact, he would make a deal with Raphael(x) Gale would inform you that he no longer needed anything from you, he didn't exactly tell you why but if you passed the wisdom check the narrator would said this :

You flutter through his mind like a bat through the night and you see… fire. You hear laughter. You smell brimstone. mocking words drift back to you.'This is the House of Hope.'

Origin Karlach could have made another deal with Raphael! she had unique datamined dialogues with him and Korilla

there's 4 unused Raphael models(with different hair style)in the game i see people calling them earlier iterations but they are not, they were datamined all together later in the early access along with companions dream lovers in one room(it was called AA room) They could be for some sort of cut content/quest lines?!

Concept art Raphael doesn't have hair so idk maybe these were supposed to be his different human disguises?! Even in this early live stream he had the same devil model with black hair while his human disguise looked like Lord Farquaad...

this was also on that list of cut content

Mol and Raphael - Isn't it odd how Mol will just escape from Raphael on her own and say it was "easy?" Well it turns out that's because they cut whatever the final leg of that quest was meant to be, instead they allow Mol to escape on her own which more or less skips to the end and around the cut content.

there's one Yurgir line!(you can hear his datamined voice lines here)

now, Leave me. I must prepare for my return to hell, Triumphant.

(thanks @doomsbutt for looking that up) apparently it was supposed to trigger as a fallback for when Raphael can't appear! The tag checked for that dialogue says "Sets if the Last Justiciar contract was completed, but Raphael didn't show up" Currently this is not an option in the game, but we could have just tell Yurgir he can be freed by killing the rats!so maybe there was supposed to be an option that got cut ?!

Astarion and Kith'rak Voss asking Raphael for help were added after rewrite

in early access the game locked you in a cutscene when Raphael visited the camp, you couldn't switch character, pickpocket him or see his health bar!also in ea Korilla wasn't spying on the party

in conclusion Astarion quest, Raphael's dialogues with Karlach and Dark Urge + everything in act3 should be new. Raphael probably originaly had A MUCH BIGGER role, He was mentioned in all the larian's earlier interviews and was on all of the promotional stuff... I think they changed him really late in development as well *take with a grain of salt*larian beta tested the game in july 2022 I heard about that version twice, What they both mentioned that had changed was the House of Hope. one of them said even Hope and Haarlep didn't exist in that version*again take with a huge grain of salt, I heard from someone who had heard it from a beta tester in both cases*

the release version (@tellmeallaboutit sorry it took so long...I changed my mind several times while writing this, then forgot about it for a while...) I know it's because of that late rewrite but in my opinion Raphael's writing in Act 3 is not great!(like everything else in act3) He has a really good set up but it just goes nowhere,his deal just sucks...after Yurgir quest i was excepting the contract to be a song or poem, option to negotiate the terms, and consequences...but nope!nothing! And then you can just go and steal your contract?!(pretty sure that's not a thing, since contracts are magic that bonds your soul to a devil not a actual piece of paper)and even if you break the contract, he won't kill/punish you for some reason. First i wanna rant a little about Hope…i think after they decided to cut all of Raphael's original content, they wanted to give the player a reason to kill him so they made her! she is a prisoner who is being tortured to accept Raphael's deal and...that's not how Infernal Contract works, terms become binding when both parties willingly sign the contract, the contract is void if the devil uses force or even threats. this is from Fiendish Codex II :

The same goes for buying slaves...there's a reason why devils go out of their way to corrupt mortals and offer services, why bother making contract if they could just buy people?! that aside my biggest gripe with Hope is she's not representing hope as a concept , she's very brave and strong-willed but kinda pessimistic. literally the first thing she say to you is"you came. such a shame. curiosity killed all the cats it won't be so kind to you"like??!Isn't that the opposite of inspiring hope? i was re watching her cutscenes and majority of her dialogues are quite cynical...i feel like whoever wrote her and HOH quest straight up confused hope with persistence, strong will and determination! IMO Isobel is a MUCH better character to represent the concept! for anyone who says "Why can't Wyll and Karlach stay in the House of Hope"they cant! Hell is very lawful hierarchical place. You can't just stay there, other more powerful devil will absolutely attack and take over HOH right away after Raphael's death. Another thing that really bothered me about Hope's situation is that it doesn't really line up with what Raphael was saying earlier... To make it easier to explain what I mean, i tried to analyze pre-rewrite stuff separately first: *Disclaimer:I'm not talking about current canon of the game This is mostly just my thoughts and speculations as to what his character and story might have been before the rewrite, i know I'm most likely totally wrong* Destroying people's hope was not exactly Raphael's goal, He even gets upset if you agree to take his deal in the first encounter"Oh. That's disappointing.I prefer it when my clients put up a fight…" and"i really am at my magnanimous best when people make an effort" That's why IMO it just doesn't make any sense for him to torture and imprison a person who didn't take his deal right away, Since he explicitly wanted his clients to have hope and go explore all the options they have, because for some reason he was sure they can't find anything and going to fail every single attempt"only to realize victory was never an option" then they themselves come to him and ask/beg him for help and he gets to be their"savior" The thing I find interesting about pre rewrite Raphael that is completely gone in act 3 is his savior complex and how he tried to portray himself as someone who helps people in need. "House of Hope" is a VERY common name for nonprofit organizations that provide treatment, shelter, financial assistance and...(if you google it and pass through bg3 stuff you can find many of them)I don't think the name's a coincidence because of this line"This is the House of Hope, Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed lavishly"he was supposed to be an option to heal your party from the parasite. He also talking about having"boundless compassion" and "infinite mercy" and his the gathering card is called "Fiendish Savior"These are not things I associate with the devils or the hells. He is named after an archangel. Raphael is known in various religions as an angel who does acts of healing. The name Raphael means "It is God who heals", "God Heals", "God, Please Heal" in Christianity "he is the patron saint of travelers, young people, happy meetings, nurses, physicians, sick people and medical workers. He can cure blindness, eye afflictions, nightmares and..." in Islam "he is a beautiful angel who is a master of music, he sings praises to God in a thousand different languages, the breath of which is used to inject life into hosts of angels who add to the songs themselves."

In the final release the name Raphael seems very random for a cambion but if we look at his cut content it makes a lot of sense,He was supposed to be the party's patron who would cure their "eye afflictions" This could be remnants of Mol's original quest, but notice how even her blind eye healed after she took on Raphael's deal. He could also fix Gale's orb and Karlach's "condition", Maybe that's why he was named after the archangel of healing. another thing I've noticed is in his boss fight when you try to hit him with radiant damage he says this:

I don't think a cambion should be able to that, because "Radiant damage doesn't do anything special to demons/devils but they aren't particularly resistant to it either" No creature is immune but aasimar and celestial do have resistance to radiant damage. and there's also angel/devil aesthetic in the HOH decor...

Both of these are definitely Raphael, The devil one is sticking his tongue out, There's a lot of tongue imagery in Raphael's clothing concept art as well. The angel one(?)has some kind of plants around his head same as that one Ascended Fiend design on the HOH floor(The actual design has antlers instead of those)

Speaking of Ascended Fiend, I find it really hard to believe that they made a uniquely detailed model just for a phase of his boss fight that could be missed. There is no cutscene or explanation why he has a third form(i know about that cut"Mephistopheles, hear your son!..."line but I don't think it's canon anymore, and it's definitely not the original reason why this form exists, The design is already on the HOH floor and on his clothing concept art so it was supposed to be something that he already had) It doesn't look like a devil to me...It is designed in a way to draw all your attention to its head...it has 3 animal skulls smashed together(?)and Stag Antlers. Correct me if i'm wrong but i don't think that skull is for a real animal right?! And those stag/deer antlers are the most in you face part of this design, They are also seen in one of Raphael's concept art design and even in Korrilla's outfit on her chest.

This made me wonder what exactly that Ascended Fiend design was even supposed to be(I saw some say it's a pit fiend But it does not look like a pit fiend at all, pit fiend are heavy, have big muscles and gargoylish appearance)And what's with the antlers? Okay, here's my delulu theory: I think the Ascended Fiend's design and Raphael as a character were both inspired by a Wendigo.

"Wendigos are described as having long limbs, long, sharp claws, and teeth, and their eyes are said to be sunken in and glowing red. They are also said to have a long tongue that they use to lick their victim's flesh and can shapeshift into other animal and human forms." "The Wendigo was gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tightly over its bones. With its bones pushing out against its skin, and its eyes pushed back deep into their sockets, the wendigo looked like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave.What lips it had were tattered and bloody … Unclean and suffering from suppuration of the flesh, the Wendigo gave off a strange and eerie odor of decay and decomposition, of death and corruption" "The wendigo craves human flesh and is constantly starving for it. The wendigo is known to have its preferences: the sweet fat of children, the soft skin of women, the course muscles of men (especially warriors and hunters) Wendigos are embodiment of gluttony, greed, and excess; never satisfied after killing and consuming one person, they are constantly searching for new victims."They also stalk their preys for a long time and prefer to terrify them before moving in for the kill. the description kinda fits the design right? Notice how Raphael's eyes are sunken into their sockets in his human form. this also explains why there is so many tongue symbolism in his house and concept art...and looking back at Raphael's dialogues again, there's a lot of Food-related proverbs/idioms/phrases (they definitely toned it down in Act 3), some even could possibly indicate that he might have been based on a wendigo"through a nice juicy brain""My last contract here fed me for decades" He also called greed his"favorite virtue" and Shadowheart said this about him"there were no right answer with that devil. He was toying with his food-us""A devil sought us out, Teased us with his help…But he also stared as if we were the banquet, Rather the one on the table."(this is a cut line from ea)

There's this line in act2"I have this picture in my head of you tossing and turning in the middle of the night, thinking strange things, dreaming strange dreams..." In Cree mythology, wendigo can possesses people through their dreams and cause its victims a feeling of insatiable hunger, the desire to eat other humans, and the propensity to commit murder. And these were "urges" from early access:

Nausea twists your stomach, But it's hunger not revulsion, Something inside you clammers for blood, For death and only the the tear of flesh will do.

Amid this flurry of questions you feel something else deep inside you, A hunger, A lust for blood.

Durge is the last addition to the origin characters so ea urges should have been for something else so...idk. i looked up to see if wendigos are a thing in 5e but I could not find a solid answer...(put pin on this, I'll have more to say about Raphael and dreams) Another big thing I feel was really missing and should have been explained in act 3 is Why was Raphael so sure that his clients wouldn’t find anything and always come back to him to matter what...first two act was setting up Raphael as someone who likes to play games that he is sure his clients cant win but there was no such game in act3. I believe the current narrative wants me to think it's all an act or it's just him being overconfident but that doesn't make much sense, He acts as if he has never failed before and has the upper hand and lots of advantages in these situations, He shows his true form right away and never hides the fact that he's evil and even denies you If you accept his offer in the first encounter. To me this is someone who is looking for a challenge. You can see this in the way he dealt with Mol and Yurgir(their act2 voice lines were dataminded in patch 8 of EA, So their deals with Raphael were written before that late rewrite...) In act2 Raphael trapped Yurgir in the Gauntlet of Shar by offering help to Lyrthindor...so Raphael did put Yurgir in a situation where he had no other choice but to accept his deal. I'm having a bit of a issue with this quest... i know they tied Astarion to this quest after the rewrite(this is why there is no deal when Astarion is not in your party) and It was supposed to be an option to free Yurgir(because of that unused line i mentioned earlier, I wonder if we were going to see free Yurgir again in Avernus cut content...)So they have changed this quest at least a little. I feel like Yurgir's soul was not Raphael's number 1 priority, He made a deal with Yurgir. There was always a loophole in that deal, He could have sent someone else to kill Yurgir all this time but he didn't. it seems to me that he's just messing with him? And there's this line "My last contract here fed me for decades"as if he keeps getting profit out of that contract?!i don't think he's getting those dark justiciars souls?So what or who was he feeding on all this time? This should have been the quest that basically established what type of person Raphael is and how he makes deal, But the difference between this deal and what he offered the player is so big that it doesn't seem like they were made by the same person. In Yurgir's case the contract was a song, there was a loophole in it, and Raphael didn't play fair, The "perfumed trickster" in act 3 suddenly is an honest and fair devil who doesn't backstab his clients?

Yurgir himself was soften up a little too much in act3, I liked that he was this evil, ruthless devil who could easily kill you and enjoy it, But had a sense of honor. he was reduced to "uwu little rabbit" in act 3 As if we did not see his bed and this is not the same person who said "I made him watch as i ate his concubines and young, Then i fashioned a codpiece from his skull.""Owe you? Every breath you take from this moment now on is my reward to you. Few walk away from me intact."idk it's just a bit inconsistent for me... And there's Mol! She was presented with a deal from Raphael and then suddenly She got kidnapped after right after that...I don't think it was ever confirmed that Raphael was involved in her kidnapping but "It's only a matter of time before the apple is plucked."and"she still has the unconditional freedom to choose the only option she has left"kinda makes me think he may have known this was going to happen?!He had no way of knowing this was going to happen and I don't think it's even possible for him to be responsible for her kidnapping, But he spoke as if he knew... And then in act 3 you can just find Mol and give her back her contract and that's it... which was pretty anticlimactic. It just feels unfinished and rushed, Probably because they cut off Raphael's content and Mol's original story was connected to that said content?! Maybe I'm just being nitpicky but i feel like Mol should have known Raphael's a devil?! He offered her a deal and smelled like sulfur?Like what kind of deal did he offer her that didn't require revealing his identity? (*take with a grain of salt* It wasn't just Mol, If what i heard from that version that they play tested is true, There were supposed to be more children npcs in HOH and i have a feeling the devil with the silver tongue in Wyll's story who took the farmer's daughter away is also Raphael. This could be a cut storyline?maybe?) There are also these lines that do not make much sense to me"You're the best thing for business since the Second Sundering. Countless sorry souls came running to my door after your work in the grove." "To repay you for the souls sent my way, I offer a taste of the truth."Which souls is he talking about here?Why would "Countless sorry souls"go to Raphael specifically after the grove incident?

after rewrite Those were all the pre-rewrite stuff... Kith'rak Voss scene with Raphael must be new, He was a very different character and was involved on that big "The Creche vs The Cult of the Absolute" fight in Rosymorn Monastery that got cut. Raphael originally wanted the artefact not the the The Crown of Karsus so him want to be ruler of nine hell is probably new?! which is ridiculous If you know anything about hell hierarchy and power scaling(the reason is to enforce law and order(?) as if hell isn't already like that and Asmodeus isn't a primal embodiment of lawful evil) Maybe that's just me but Raphael's writing in general feels very different in act 3, My guess is that they gave him to another writer after rewrite, he seems to have been written by a more skilled and talented writer before that...like if you compare the first meeting with him to his monologue before fighting him, the difference in quality is very much noticeable. Raphael himself went from being very smart, snarky and manipulative to straightforward, blunt and comically unselfaware. I guess the current narrative wants me to just ignore all the earlier stuff?! And i have other nitpicky issues, "Down comes the claw" is supposed to be a reference to Raphael's lullaby in Act 1 but that doesn't make sense,This was what happened between the cat and the mouse, and Raphael was supposed to be the fox watching them. if they player was the mouse, who is this cat that they were brightly smiling at? And why "claws coming down" was a form of "love"? My guess is that the original meaning of that rhyme is something that has been cut. In my opinion, the House Of Hope quest itself was pretty underwhelming with lot of questionable writing decisions and basically was a weaker and less interesting version of hag's lair in act 1. I feel like the writer was much more interested in shocking people or getting a reaction than writing a good story. The last thing that bothers me in act 3, Raphael suddenly out of nowhere became really obsessed with law and order...I mean that's what he says but he never really does anything to show that he cares about those things? His house is a chaotic mess and Neither Hope nor those "Eternal Debtors" should be there. Devils can take someone and torture them without owing their soul ONLY IF those people to come to hell themselves(which wasn't the case with Hope) and I couldn't find anything about those "Debtors" in dnd lore. What is even the purpose of their existence beside shock value? Those who sell their souls to a devil become divine energy for the hells, Lemures or soul coins after they die, All of which are relatively worse outcomes and i think he should have served an archdevil in Avernus(but he doesn't)...All that talk about hell's laws but he lowkey not following any of them... IDK maybe he wasn't originally meant to be lawful evil? In act2 he said this about Mol "She cheated, of course, but that's half her charm"i don't understand how can you find cheating charming if you love law and order so much? and he also said this"After all, if there is one rule I hold dear, it's that one must always give the devil his due." Doesn't this contradict what he's saying in act3? He basically said he doesn't care about any rule beside "giving the devil his due" here... And there's Raphael's magic the gathering card "Fiendish Savior"

MTG cards have 5 colors, each of them has their own meaning and mechanic(you can read about them x,x) Raphael's card is half black half red. Black is color of lack of ethical restraint, Power at any cost , self-interest and ... which still kinda fits his character. Red is "impulsive and emotional. The color of passion, frivolity, and chaos"."Red values freedom above all else. It wants to do what it wants when it wants, and to whom it wants, and nobody can tell it otherwise.""Red believes that life is an adventure and that it would be much more fun if everyone stopped caring about rules, laws, and personal appearances and just spent their time indulging their desires through experience." I think this was made before that late rewrite, because it doesn't really fit him any more.(Wyll card is also red and that's definitely for his EA version) Red doesn't always mean chaotic alignment but character with half red half black card are very often chaotic evil. Unlike devils, Cambions can be other alignments beside lawful evil so maybe they were doing something different?!or maybe he wasn't even a cambion?

(Just a warning, I'm about to over analyze a lot of details in bg3 artbook, early access and prequel comic to guess what they might have planned for Raphael before the rewrite, if that's something you don't really care about you should stop reading...A lot of this is just my theories and speculation about the og storyline) Raphael's design I think just like Wyll and Gale, they didn't give Raphael his actual design and he stuck with his ea placeholder model. His final design is really bland and it looks nothing like his concept art. (i can't post more photo because tumblr's limit but you can see them here) I prefer all of them to what's in the final game right now, all of these designs are very bold, detailed and fancy, which I think fits Raphael's over the top personality better. They all have a black and red color scheme with lots of gold jewelry. There's a lot of nature symbolism(vines,roses, thorns and...), Eyes, Tongues and dragons in there as well. I also really like how Raphael's devil form has unique features and isn't just basic tiefling with wings like the release version. I don't know what this is but apparently it was important enough that has its own section on his page...

Another thing I noticed, Gortash's final outfit is very similar to some of Raphael concept art. Specially that early sketchy design (even that dragon tattoo was originally meant for Raphael) similar symbolism: Eyes, Tongues, skulls and dragons, None of these can be found in other Gortash concepts So idk maybe this is just an unused earlier design for Raphael? (Is it just me or the dragon on Gortash's collar looks a lot like Tiamat? it's literally a dragon with several heads. I don't see how she could be related to either to Gortash or Raphael so i didn't look more into it)

Another thing all of these designs have in common is that they are clearly inspired by Jareth the Goblin King and different customs he wore in 1986 Labyrinth. It reminded me of this tweet from back in ea where one of the dev even compared Raphael to Jareth.

that kinda explains why there were children npcs in HOH in that beta version of the game... I was thinking about this comparison then something suddenly clicked for me, Jareth was a manifestation of Sarah's desires(at the beginning movie in her room you can see a picture of David Bowie with her mother). He was offering Sarah her dreams and was trying to get her to submit to a fantasy...And that's EXACTLY what the original dream visitor from early access was...Which is interesting because when i was reading about Wendigo, That also reminded me a lot of EA dreams and urges(They can shapeshift into different human forms and posses people through their dreams and...) I knew Raphael's original role was to be a solution to our tadpole problem in exchange of our soul and be a Merchant. So I thought he would be an ally against the Absolute, but probably had his own evil agenda and dealing with him had its own consequences(kinda like an evil equivalent of Malady from DOS2)...It never actually occurred to me that the reason he wanted Orpheus and our souls was because he was with the cult...This sent me down a rabbit hole. If you haven't played early access you can watch all the dream sequences here. just by these alone it's obvious that the dream person isn't the tadpole specially in the last dream Where their mask fell off... And I think the Absolute and the Dream Visitor were supposed to be the same person...There was this conversation with Lae'zel:

Tav: Those dreams linger in my memory. Do you think that strange figure will come back? Lae'zel: It is a certainty. I had assumed our parasites served a ghaik Elder. But i believe they serve a greater master still. Tav: The Absolute is this 'master'. I'm sure of it. Lae'zel: Perhaps. 'Absolute' may be a mere pseudonym behind which this master hides. Whatever this voice, Whoever this master, It dominates dreams and unites minds.

Minthara also had this line in EA"The Absolute has spoken to you already, in whispers and dreams, but at Moonrise you will be in her presence." and Absolute's pronounce changed depend on the person you're talking to. EA dream visitor was referred to by two names in the game files: Daisy and Desire. This was datamined about multiplayer(x)

Daisy: can have up to four "Daisy" character in game , one for each avatar, The "default" Daisy is the host. Desire : only one "Desire" in the game.based on the Daisy made by the host.

Some NPCs in game files also were referred to as desire, So they were probably Daisy in disguise. for example one of them was Counsellor Florrick.

I recently watch this(x)Remember i mentioned those 4 unused Raphael models that were in the same room with origin character's dream visitors. Now i know what they are, They aren't for cut content 4 naked models are customizable dream visitors for each 4 avatars and there are 4 Raphael for each of them because Now there are 4 extra Emperor with those customizable Dream guardians in there instead ...(They aren't in the separate room like EA and Origin don't have their own Daisy now so they aren't there)

Looking back at EA footage now, I think the original visit to HOH probably was a dream sequence...unlike the release version Raphael would only come to camp at night after a long rest and when the scene ended the whole party was knocked down (Basically you would wake up from it)

I think that's why he said a "lullaby" would suit the occasion? And if you talked to Shadowheart after the first dream, There was an actual option to tell her that our dream visitor could be "that devil, Raphael"

I didn't even remember this because i usually didn't use the tadpole powers(They were to have severe consequences) and i think you only get this if you met Raphael before you get the first dream...Does anyone know what Shadowheart would say if you pick this option?

There's also this Raphael's cut line:

I have a thousand mistresses, Karlach. Fear and pleasure blend quite well.

(I think it could be a reference to “Just fear me, love me, do as I say…”?! ) "thousand mistresses" is something that is not really physically possible BUT if was the dream visitor, this explains who these people could be. I think every person that was tadpoled had their own Daisy.

The Cult of the Absolute itself has changed quite a bit after rewrite, There was this theme of "Power at a Cost"that is gone. The Absolute was going to offer you "powers" but indulging in those corrupting powers would send you down a dark path and had long-term consequences. "Cultist of the Absolute"MTG card had this in the description "you embrace power at any cost, and if it consumes you, so be it." Now the Emperor is the one who insists that you should use this powers, but consuming tadpoles has no real impact, it just a for a powerup system.

I was re-reading bg3 prequel comic Mindbreaker, I noticed something really interesting. At the end of the first chapter a group of true souls teleported to a library to perform a ritual. Then suddenly they started speaking Infernal while they were standing on something that looks a lot like the marks on Astarion's back...

And then a tadpoled priest of Kelemvor "father Alby" killed the true soul lady that was standing in the middle, using a dagger that looked like Rhapsody(it wasn't a 1 to 1 copy but the design were pretty similar) and after that a portal opened and he was like"now it is revealed to us, my fellow true souls…the glory of the Absolute has no limits!" Okay so who's this ritual is for? (It's definitely not for neither The Dead Three, their chosen nor The Netherbrain), And why is this "ritual" look so similar to devil worshiping?! At the start of chapter 2 the comic described whatever happened there as this:

Divine magic is power imparted by a god upon one of their worshipers, a reward for prayer and good service in the deity's name. But there are other paths to power as well…Dark pacts with strange beings whose magic and influence rival the glory of the divine, even if they are not called gods by those who define such things. woe to any who fall under their sway or drink deep from their corruption.

It implies the Absolute is not a real God, and the description doesn't really fit the Netherbrain neither. The use of those "powers" that the Absolute offered were described as "Dark pacts"

After all that, I looked into whether or not devils even could have dream powers and turns out yeah a certain type of fiend do! There's 3 type of incubus/succubus, EA dream visitor was really similar to the fiendish type who are neither devil nor demon : "Fiendish succubi commonly used their ethereal form to slip through walls to reach a mortal's bedside, and linger there as they slept. Here, they filled their victim's dreams with debauched scenes and whispered of forbidden pleasures, tempting them to indulge in dark desires, appetites, and taboos. The more the succubus did this in their dreams, the more vulnerable their victim became to temptation in the waking world. Eventually, the succubus entered the mortal realm directly, in a pleasing form previously seen only in the dreams, and befriended or seduced their victim, so they could influence them directly and indulge all their desires so they would perform evil deeds of their own free will. When the victim was utterly corrupted, such as by committing three betrayals of thought, word, and deed, their soul was in the grip of the succubus, without need of contract or pledge. For a more virtuous victim, this corruption might take longer, but their downfall was all the more rewarding for the succubus. Finally, the succubus slew their victim with a kiss, and the corrupted soul went down to the Lower Planes as their prize." "Fiendish succubi could become ethereal by slipping into the Ethereal Plane. They could also magically charm a humanoid, in sight up to 30 feet (9.1 meters) away, and make them obey any command they gave them. The victim might resist, especially if made to perform a harmful or suicidal action." It's all very similar to EA dream visitor and that also explains why EA dreams were so seductive but the only thing that doesn't line up is succubus could only have one charmed victim at a time...so i'm not really sure.

Looking back on it now, I think the character who replaced Daisy wasn't the Emperor, It was The Dark Urge(or more precisely Bhaal) What we were resisting in EA dreams was the dream visitor themself, not the urge to kill them. This would happen if you failed that charisma check(I find it weird that some people still insist that original Tav was Durge/a Bhaalspawn even when the writer straight up confirmed that's not true.) My theory is those "urges" were the consequences of using the tadpole powers and not resisting the dream visitor. The character that the emperor replaced was actually Orpheus(Emperor existed even before the rewrite. I'm not sure what his original role was, But his name was datamined back in ea) Orpheus was the person in the artefact that help the party and prevented them from becoming mind flayers, Based on this datamined conversation with Halsin (x)

Halsin: You're aware of the monster inside you. You don't bow to the Absolute, like the true souls do. How is this possible…? Tav: A being called Orpheus is protecting me; Shielding me from the worst of parasite's magic. Halsin: That sounds…novel. But alright, Who is this Orpheus? I'd like to bend the ear of anyone who knows about these things. Tav: I don't know the truth bout him. I'm not sure he even has an ear to bend. Halsin: Hmm. There's so much stock you can place in mysterious friends with unknown agendas...

These were also datamined about Orpheus (x)

in the game files " the cube contains the long imprisoned spirit of a gith general, who wants to fall into our party's hand in effort to eventually break free."

He's forcing Shadowheart to either join the party or get killed by the party - either way the cube will be where it wants to be.

A mysterious character who is trying to survive and break free, who prevents the party from turning into illithid and Shielding them from the Absolute's influence...That's just the Emperor now. Raphael originally wanted the artifact, so there should have been some sort of connection between him and Orpheus. Orpheus from Greek mythology was a poet and musician who descended into the underworld/hells to bring her wife back, So maybe there was something going on that got cut? .............. Small rant about Mephistopheles I feel like they just slapped him in the game last minute... The fact that Mephistopheles had the Crown of Karsus but did not use it does not make any sense. Mephistopheles is a wizard, ruler of Cania and second most powerful devil next to Asmodeus. he was desperately looking for divinity so he could beat Asmodeus and take his place.(Especially considering what happened between him and his cambion son Magadon just for a portion of the god Mask's divinity. he managed to get only a fraction of that )He could have use the crown, Steal Asmodeus' divinity and easily defeat him. "frigid archivist who made a miracle into a museum piece" is not really who Mephistopheles is ,he's very power hungry and his "most damaging issues" are his "rampantly unchecked megalomania and recklessness in the pursuit of power" The chosen stealing the crown from him is weird on itself(IMO None of them were smart or strong enough to pull that off)And then Mephistopheles did not go after them and let them carry out their plan?why?! I even think Raphael being the son of Mephistopheles was something they added later for several reason: Everything that connects Raphael to him was added after the rewrite(Him wanting The Crown of Karsus, Astarion asking about his scars and Haarlep). This makes him way too similar to EA Mizora, She was supposed to have a powerful devil father. Raphael's concept art looks a lot like Yurgir and other devil concepts from Avernus cut content and shouldn't he be blue?!Because I read somewhere that Mephistopheles's red skin is the result of the experiments he did on himself and he was blue before all that?!

Mephistopheles's deal with Cazador and him wanting 7007 random souls is also kinda ooc for him. He is the one archdevil who prefers quality over quantity("He has the advantage of having the lowest quotas of the archdevils but with the limitation of the highest standards")that's why he's in debt to some of the other archdevils like Dispater and Levistus. He also only makes deal with skilled wizards and cunning sages(Cazador doesn't really fit the bill) My theory is Astarion's back scars originally might had something to do with Raphael himself. Cazador's lair in bg3 art book looks different, Notice how the set up for the ascension ritual isn't there(Instead there is a pool of blood?)

if you look at Astarion page on BG3 artbook, it is mentioned that whatever is carved on his back is part of a poem.

Mephistopheles doesn't make contract in poem form. When the set of the MTG cards that included bg3 characters was released, They published this video explaining each card, Brandy camel (community manager at d&d i think)said this about about Raphael:

Later in the same video she said this when discussing Astarion's card:

He's an individual who's kind of been operating in that place between being rising to nobility but hasn't quite made it there yet, So he's kind of under the thumb of Raphael and he's not super happy about it.

So originally i thought this could be a mistake but if Raphael was EA dream visitor, I can see how he could be involved with Astarion. Here's a little summary of Astarion's og storyline(source of datamined stuff here) So there was this chosen of the Absolute "the Butcher",He and Cazador had a rivalry over who get to control the Baldur's Gate graveyard.(You could have sided with either of them) Cazador sent some of his spawns to investigate the cult, We were supposed to meet them in act2. Astarion wanted to ally with a monster hunter named "Spencer" against them, But if we talked to spawns we would learn that "the Butcher" send his apprentice "Ohler" to the graveyard(he was putting tadpole inside the skeleton's head and that made them hostile toward the vampires ) then an ancient and powerful vampire called"the Alluring" killed him. They also mentioned how they were happy with their situation and that Cazador is an okay boss"It is good. You don't age and everyone is afraid of you. Cazador is a bit strict but he makes sure we are fed" So about how Raphael might have been involved, "the Alluring" was called "Desire/Alluring" in the game files so he(?) was EA dream visitor in disguise... That explains why Astarion was the only one who had nightmare about Cazador instead of tempting dreams like the rest of the party. also in ea if you speak on dead on gur and asked him who sent him he would say this :

Astarion : Who sent you… Was it Cazador? Gandrel: No… Maiden Fel… Astarion : Who is Maiden Fel? Gandrel: Reason… Even monsters… Have nightmares…

If hypothetically Raphael was Daisy, this "Maiden Fel"was also probably him too? ................ so here's another delulu theory: (I know it's not very likely, I wasn't even sure to include it) Raphael's name still bothered me, I couldn't help but think there must be a reason why they name a devil after an archangel. So I checked to see if I could find some sort of connection between Raphael and any of d&d deities(since angels associated with gods) i have two guesses. the first one is Beshaba. Beshaba is "chaotic evil deity of accidents, bad luck, misfortune, and random mischief" and her holy symbol is the horns of a stag. She is the twin sister and sworn enemy of Tymora, the goddess of good luck(they are kinda like Shar and Selune) Raphael has this line in act1"They do know how to write them in Cormyr, don't they?" "Tymora was the most famous deity around the country of Cormyr, after she protected their capital, Suzail, during the Time of Troubles. Her efforts prompted a resurgence of her faith throughout the nation." and there's this one fallen temple of Tymora in the city of Tantras literally called the unlucky"House Of Hope"(x) Raphael has these dialogues "One might say you're a paragon of luck. I'll be there when it runs out" "You're out of luck." which didn't happen This is less likely guess because dnd evil deities don't really have angels... my second guess is Lathander. He's the deity with most similarities to Archangel Raphael "Lathander was a deity of creativity, dawn, renewal, birth, athletics, spring, self-perfection, vitality, and youth. He favoured those who dispelled the undead and blessed those who planted new life. Lathander was also the god called upon to bless birth and fertility related ceremonies.""A common symbol associated with Raphael is the color green. This color is often used to represent healing and renewal, which are two of Raphael's primary areas of expertise. The use of green in depictions of Raphael can also be seen as a nod to the natural world, which is often associated with healing and growth.Finally, Raphael is sometimes depicted holding a fish, which is a symbol of abundance and fertility. This symbol is particularly relevant to Raphael's role as a healer, as it represents the idea of restoring balance and vitality to the body." And both Archangel Raphael and Lathander are commonly associated with the Sun. Lathander is also a god of "hope and beginnings", He and his followers"Strive to bring hope to others" that one statue in the House of Hope with a sun behind his head and plants around his neck looks pretty similar to Lathander's statues in the game...

There's more to this if Raphael was the Original dream visitor. Daisy also spoke of "change", "growth" and a "beautiful and glorious renewal" If you look at the art of "Cultist of the Absolute" MTG card, You can see a window on the background that looks a lot like Symbol of Lathander. In the prequel comic there was this panel where one of the protagonist asked the tadpoled true soul"father Alby"what happened to him and why is he doing all of this, he replied"A simple answer to both questions, I have been Awakened" Novices in the Lathanderian faith are also called the Awakened. In original storyline that supposed to happen in Rosymorn Monastery(x) Kith'rak Voss got some kinda information from there that he wanted to tell Vlaakith about! He had this cut dialogue "I will make for the plane-gate. Vlaakith must hear of this!".The Absolutists REALLY didn't want this information to reach Vlaakith. Even Daisy was going to make an appearance because of it, this was datamined:

We need a system for showing daisy and making them talk to the player in the world// Daisy insists that the player shouldn't let Kith'rak Voss escape.

Why is this information obtained from a temple of Lathander be so important to the cult of the Absolute? Avernus was supposed to be playable and Zariel was also an angel under the command of Lathander before her fall. so maybe there was something going on between Raphael and Lathander ?! like i said I know it's not very likely... ............. So that's all i had to say, I tried to look into it more specially stuff that was datamined from patch5 and 8 of Early access(there was A LOT)but i couldn't find much, Most of the stuff from those patches were deleted or unlisted on YouTube... Just remember I’m literally just sharing my opinion, it is not a personal attack on you or your taste :P ok bye.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll #wyll ravengard #bg3 raphael #mizora #bg3 meta #bg3 orpheus #cazador szarr #bg3 cazador #bg3 datamine #bg3 daisy #kith'rak voss #long post #bg3 mizora

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