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fionarara · 10 months

Text

+ cherry bomb .

+ GOJŌ SATORU x READER .

+ T W ⇾ 18+ only . smut . sugar daddy!gojo . dilf!gojo . f!reader . implied ddlg dynamics . adult age gap (the amount is your interpretation) . aquaphilia aka underwater sex . praise . a bit of a baby bimbo reader so um dacryphilia, no rly, like i’m talking actual tears, yeah . gojou has a dumb joke (or two) . mention of divorce (not yours) and of gojo’s child (also not yours) . slight size kink if you squint . i feel like both flaunted capitalism and vapid self-indulgence needs a tag here ?? we be explorin dark kink of all kinds on this here blog, right? (｡>ω<｡) . reader has a few nicknames . no beta . and lastly, probably goes without saying but daddy kink, i repeat, daddy kink . oyasumi ✌︎ .

+ A N ⇾ um, istg i totally did not mean to post this dilf!gojo on actual father’s day, h-whoa? but the universe just always has my back i swear, an amazing coincidence as i only realized right before posting, and somehow it feels *symbolic* ?? - this is for the sugar daddy collab by @sleepysnk, ty for letting me join last minute summer ♡

+ W C ⇾ circa 5,500

Zz Zz Zz.

Within your skirt a vibration kicks off.

The ringing of a phone tucked into the waistband against your tummy chimes out its soft little tune where you withdraw it to peek at the screen. Flashing vibrantly across its surface reads ‘DD Gojo’, and the smile unveiling on your face shines as brightly as the reflected device in your palm.

From where you stand on the sidewalk in elegant heels, all dolled up for the occasion, the twilight of dusk is visible on the horizon. The vision of picturesque dark multi-colored hues harmonize nicely with the wafting scent of warm pastries and tea in the air nearby, out from the cafe of the luxury shopping center you’ve been waiting in front of: Gojo’s favorite meeting spot. Whereby inevitably, has become yours as well.

A place you have both frequented together before, where he has showered you with many gifts, many times over, treasured in both of your memories. Cherished adventures built here upon wining and dining at the finest restaurants, playing dress up at the shops amongst extravagance, the cavalcade of glittering jewels and lavish garments–all the things you deserve as far as he’s concerned. He is of the belief that whatever you receive should be nothing but the best the world could ever offer, or at least his wallet, he figures.

And since life has been really tough on him lately–divorce is a bitch, the entire ongoing legal process has been one drawn out migraine–you and your overall companionship are so highly prized, not only in his day-to-day, but because of the new glow you’ve supplied his life. Especially during the last several months of regularly seeing one another after the separation from his marriage.

Unabashed in his absolute fondness for you, he has deemed you his little crème de la crème angel.

You pick up the jingling phone in your hand.

Gojo Satoru seems to be in an especially exuberant and silly mood when his voice forces a notable husky tone, answering your greeting with a fun-loving tease, a low murmur on the other end of the call.

“Ring-ding-dong—is baby ready for my dong, sweets?” He finds himself hilarious, goofy, a laugh ripping out of his throat with audacity, clearly and thoroughly enjoying his own terrible joke.

Wow. There’s that classic on-a-whim, lively, larger-than-life bluntness that comes along with Gojo’s Sagittarius energy you have come to know well: he’s innately playful and comedic, fun, loud, has got a charmingly sharp tongue with no filter—it can sometimes come back to bite him in the ass if he’s not careful—and all of that is blanketed by a sort of fiery sense of passion for the things he loves.

The fact remains that his way of being has always been able to find a kind of carefree humor within you, something so inexplicable. He brings out in you a sense of total ease or lightness you weren’t even sure you were capable of. A kind of untapped, unfettered joy no one has ever been able to touch in you before…

So you’re halfway snickering at him now, amused, but with full-blown sarcasm you reply, “Ha–ha, Satoru, you’re so classy…” then you’re truly giggling, “...just shuddup and get over here already.” You try to restrain the crack of a too-wide smile from spreading across your cheeks, but fail, gloriously.

So you give in to it. Deciding to oblige him, you press the mic of the phone closer to your lips with a hand cupped over your mouth, shielding your next spoken words while you avert your head downward in a play of secrecy. It’s almost a whisper when you respond.

“But…yes, I think that…just maybe, I am ready for it. Got it?”

He’s unable to actually see the minxy raise of your brow shown on your face, but the gesture is not lost on him from the tone in your voice. He hears it loud and clear.

“Jeesus, baby, I’m comin’, I’m comin’...”, the subtle rise of anticipation within him giddy and excitable. "Listen, I’m almost there. My GPS says I’m two minutes away.”

Late afternoon air has you rubbing away chilly goosebumps alive on your skin, particularly your upper arms, to bring you warmth. “Ok, good. Please hurry, it’s getting nippy out.”

“Oh?” Here it comes… “Mm, ya better have nipples out…see you soon.” The sound of a bold chuckle is distorted by the phone speaker before it’s cut off by a prompt click. He disconnected the call in that way.

Already, it is your second humored eye-roll of the evening from his cheeky Gojo-behavior and you haven’t even seen him yet.

Your chest is lighter because of it.

The shopping bags in your grasp shift from two hands into one, your free hand thumbing to find the golden credit card Gojo lent you in the pocket of your jacket. Assuring yourself that it’s still there is important.

Over a month ago, he had broken the news of how meetups between the two of you would soon become more of a challenge, due to court and custody hearings surrounding the finalization of his divorce. You’d be spending a considerable amount of time apart, he’d said. It would be longer than usual, by a whole month, and offered to grant you some form of consolation in return. So the very next day, an express-shipped credit card appeared at your doorstep in the fine afternoon with a letter enclosed. In it, he expressed that you were to use it and shop to your little heart’s content. The only deal was that you would hand it back upon the arrival of this date.

The car that pulls up to double park along the curbside beside you is, without a doubt, the most expensive car you will have ever ridden. It’s new. Gojo had mentioned it last week, making the purchase to lift his spirits and also as celebration for the court case he’d won against his ex. They’d granted him equal joint custody of their child. Actually, his final stop prior to fetching you this evening had been dropping off his baby daughter.

The door swings open on its own, remotely controlled by electronics. In view and resting on the front seat is a tatty teddy bear belonging to his child that was forgotten.

“Oops, lemme move that for you.” Somehow the sight of this tiny plush toy in his large hand brings about the sweetest rush in you for him. The stuffed animal is laid to rest onto the back seat where you also note a hollow purple baby bottle leaking a dribble of spilt milk from its nipple and onto the cushion.

Nineties grunge-rock plays soft on the radio when you climb in. The air is filled with a sweet and peppery, woodsy scent, one you recognize immediately–it’s him, his comforting cologne so greatly missed, only making you that much more aware of just how profound the ache has truly been for this moment to be by his side.

Crawling towards him, you pelt your eager arms around his neck, a way that communicates it has felt like an eternity apart. Both of you have a greater sense of it now, from being in the other’s presence. You can hardly keep your exhilaration in check, not with the soft squeals you let loose on his shoulder. For a moment, together you melt, breathing into each other.

It hangs in the air of the moment as you embrace.

The weight of the wait.

He then cradles you deeper, pulling you into an assertive kiss so welcoming, so sloppy with intention, it’s as if he’s blissfully unconcerned with how messy it is because, finally, you’re here. Letting you know it’s been far too long for him when he’s matting your cheeks with numerous pecks and taking in the scent of your hair.

Withdrawing to observe you, his eyes alight with radiance at the full sight of you, your energy. “God, I almost forgot just how stunning you are. Look at you! Just…incredible.”

The praise washes over you and after exchanging a few more greeting words, of how you’ve longed to see each other, he shifts the car gear into drive.

Buildings whip across the dark sunset and late dusk settles in. The spectacle of nightfall on this ride, of the city through the windshield, excites him enough to ignite a sudden curious stir in his pants. Maybe it’s the prospect of what night can bring with you along after so much distance that has his dick twitch at the thought alone.

And with that, his hand is creeping over to your lap. It should be almost comical when you believe for the quickest moment that his approaching hand would be innocent. One only of affection, to caress you, a gentle expression only in missing you…

But consequently, their energy becomes different—turn into those fingers, the kind you know well that are wanting, possessive. And being able to even think another thought is lost on you before he is squeezing at the thickest part of your inner thigh then slipping under your skirt.

“Satoruuu…wait…” you swat his arm with a light tap, dissuading him from getting too distracted. It’s happened once or twice before he’s lost control of the wheel when attempting something as naughty as this, but it is half-hearted when you breathily urge, “…pay…pay attention to the road…”

Not a moment later, out from the speakers the bass booms more loudly, the volume amplifying higher by the second where the music thumps heavy throughout your body. You locate the outlandish crystal-eyed culprit and his thumb pressing the ‘+ volume up’ button on the steering wheel.

Not only does he have the music blasted, but has the gall to flash a cutesy grin of mischief at you, a most sinful and impish face. That expression is followed up with a playful mocking yell, where the holler of his voice competes and cuts through the music.

“HUH, baby?-! WHAT? I can't hear you!” he teases, then carries on anyway with the slide of his fingers between your pressed thighs. It’s difficult for you not to part them a smidge while the electric feel of his three fingers reaches for your clothed cunt. They press flat against your mound at the first touch, then begin to fondle lightly at the grooves of your pussy, tracing the outer shape of it with his fingertips.

Having some restraint here had been your aim, but tonight you seem to be failing plenty at not completely succumbing to his whimsical charm–it's just been so long since you’ve been near him–you’d almost forgotten how magnetic his presence truly is.

Attempting to keep your desire hidden, you try stifling the puff of air that escapes your throat, turning your head away towards the window, but it is futile. On full display to him now is how unable you are to withstand his spellbinding touch, and he’d spotted it. That little starved expression tells Gojo how badly you’re fiending, it has him lowering the radio, the amplitude of the loud song descending and funneling out of the small space, volume all the way down so he can very clearly hear what his defiance has wrought on you.

Listening to your tiny constrained moans sends heat straight through his abdomen. You do not want to be condoning any of this while he’s driving, but unfortunately for your willpower, you act on instinct when you begin pawing desperately at the muscular forearm connected to strong fingers massaging over the wet spot of your panties.

“Yeahh…you like this, huh? Knew it.”

But, in a moment too soon, he is cut off by an abrupt swerve of the car and you gasp.

“Shit–” he grips steadfast onto the wheel, gaining composure of the vehicle.

“...Alright, alright, you were right. Let’s save this.” Punctuating the final word with one reassuring pat down onto your pussy, it's honestly more like a gentle spank.

You’re pouting, but of course you nod, agree, and settle into the electrically warmed seat produced by the suave leather chair, feeling loosened up.

Safety first.

. + .

The door to Gojo’s opulent estate, only a fraction of what sits on a 22-acre property, welcomes you by the greeting of a polished and suited butler. Warm lighting casts down from the expansive ceiling and it’s the first time this evening you’re able to catch a true glimpse of Gojo’s eyes. They look a bit tired, a tad worn from his recent circumstances, but it is truly a wonder how he can make even a light touch of under-eye bags look sexy.

Walking past the foyer toward the candle-lit living room, you extend him your comfort. Wrapping your arm around the bulk of his bicep, the other palm reaches for the hard pec on his chest to rub soothing circles of understanding.

Here you are at long last, approaching the grand sofa, both of you plopping yourselves atop the plush expanse and seamlessly locking on to one another. He relishes in the beautiful body flush against his.

Encircling his waist with your arms, you find it rather cute in taking note that he is marginally plumper around his middle than before, having developed a more modest weight around his butt and love handles. Though abs of steel still ripple his shirt, the overworked dad you hold in your arms seems to have relaxed a little from the recent stress and you are filled with a sudden pride for him.

A light-hearted joke flickers in your mind of his natural ability to take up space from his energy alone anyway–how you admire it, a part of you secretly wishing you could embody more of that in yourself–but mostly in how you appreciate this bigger physical development in him, because it now means there's a little more of him in the world.

“Shall we toast?” he suggests, so he whips you up a nice pink drink while he sips hard gin on the rocks, leaning back, thighs spread open like an empowered slut.

Curiosity then strikes him when the haul of shopping bags sitting on the floor from your spree earlier this evening catches his eye. “Ooo, lemme me take a peek at what you got.” he sits up and nods, face gleaming.

One by one each item is showcased and he is enthralled by every piece, because of course he is—it’s part of why he adores you, chose you, your keen eye and clear level of taste has always been impeccable, distinct and unique, highly attractive.

Then his heart is increasing in size as you confirm, right here, right now, that those aren’t amongst your only positive qualities when you’re showing him you’d also picked up something for him and had been thoughtful enough to do so. An ornate watch is pulled out of a fresh bag by your delicate hands, that then with a snap is on his wrist, handsome as it glints and refracts in the candlelight of the room.

Your body reaches over the littered items on the elaborate rug, clasping the final shopping bag which houses the bikini you had bought for this reunion by his request.

He whistles at it. “Superb. Model it for me, will you, babe?”

You do. Twirl, shimmy, joke with an exaggerated runway catwalk, giggle, then there’s something visible written on his face and you’re able to anticipate what his next move might be.

Gojo had developed a pension for bestowing you with a few cutesy nicknames in the time spent getting to know you. Amongst his favorites and most frequently used is that of ‘cherrybomb’. Must be a fan of The Runaways, you figured, but it truly came about when, almost exclusively, you began wearing rouge-shade lipsticks in his presence. Perhaps you could make yourself seem a little older, you’d hoped, give yourself a closer touch of sophistication in his world by presenting yourself in such a way.

But mostly he’d donned you with the specific moniker because a smattering of the red tends to end up around the lower half of his dick after he's had his way with you, a faint painted crimson over his pelvis near where it meets the shaft.

You’re halfway through striking a faked model pose when he lifts himself off the couch and approaches. With an index finger so sensual, he presses up into the cushion of your ruby lips, holding tight to your gaze, coaxing you with a query, “So, gonna help daddy feel better now, cherrybomb?"

Then, far into the depths of crystalline aqua you swim, deep into the mesmerizing eyes that lock onto yours and you say nothing; nothing except for an exhale of hot moist vapor releasing onto the firm finger that baits you. The slow lick you give it afterward, dragging your tongue up along the column of his digit, landing at the tip, answers any and all of his questions. He can already feel the swell of blood trickling in to fill up his cock.

The time has come for his hand to guide you through another hallway toward the recently completed construction of a large-scale naturesque onsen the size of a massive pool, installed in the outdoor area beyond the sliding doors. Intending to experience it tonight for the first time was on his agenda, professing his desire to christen the new space with you, right before he glides a magnificent lustered glass door to one side, letting you through.

You step into the open atmosphere: water bedazzled by moonlight, submerged light fixtures softly illuminating a mint-aqua azure-blue glow, steam rising thick as fog. A plethora of tall bamboo trees enclose the surrounding space, a waterfall cascades off a giant boulder just around the bend and beneath your feet and everywhere is an assortment of gorgeous stones varying in shapes, sizes and sorts.

Gojo leans into you from behind when you approach the onsen’s outer edge, planting kisses along your neck. A clean tug at the string of your bikini top by his hand has it flopping off your breasts, exposing them to the crisp night air, amongst the sprinkle of stars hanging in the heavens. Bikini bottoms hit your ankles next and he strips completely, down to his boxers, then to nothing at all. Already he’s rock hard, a cock so upright, it seems it could nearly touch his abs.

A large hand links to yours, leading you down into the inviting water.

"God, you’re tiny next to me." He tells you, loving how much his big build towers your frame, admiring your body from behind as you descend into the blue, bare feet hitting each lowered pebbled step.

Submerging into warmth, it cradles you as you dip in. Vapor floats off the lapping surface where your joined bodies bob together in water, all of your limbs wrapped around him. He wastes not another second longer, gripping you impossibly closer, making out with you, ardently; proving himself to be ever the great multitasker with one hand gripped on your asscheek and another kneading at your breast.

Now the sizzling of your skin isn’t from the heated water alone, for beneath the very surface you simmer for him, a robust flame of aching arousal so unbearable it has you trembling. Shaky and flustered by lust, from how strong hands grope every inch of your body, how his tongue intoxicates you as it rolls fluidly against yours, he senses it all—how overcome you are by need—making him groan with a fire in his belly, as do you, too.

Desire has your spine arching. Legs still grasped to his waist, your ass pops backward as far as it will reach, creating easy access for him where he can trace fingertips along the crack of your ass as a guide, down to the ‘X’ which marks the spot of your slick hole.

Two thick fingers dip up, curl inside you, and plumes of oxygen off your light moans release between whimpers. Like your third eye opening, the instant clarity you receive in understanding how these fingers are able to create such powerful sorcery is made evident now, by his digits making literal magic in you as they fuck you filthy beneath the water.

“Missed you like hell.” He murmurs, then you grip tighter, moaning, sucking a quick bruise on his neck.

Yet all too soon, he notes the angle of his wrist is not ideal, nor the slight pushback from the water. All of it provides much resistance for him to thrust into you at the necessary speed that he knows would truly have you unraveling for him.

A light bulb flicks on in his head.

“Turn for me.” He commands, gentle and true.

In favor of getting you back to the onsen steps without letting you lose arousal, he whips your body around, directing your arms to wind behind his neck, your ankles to wrap around his. With your back meeting his chest, exposed nipples sting wet in the cold bite of the air, wading you through the water. His goal to keep that hot coil of desire burning within you also means his own cravings run high right now, to have you squirming on his fingers from this position, knowing where that button can be pressed upon.

“Thaaat’s it, baby, keep it up for me…” He entices, approvingly, an eager hand reaching from around your hip to the front, massaging over your clit in winding motions of expertise. His game is won when your hips begin to stutter, rocking and chasing for more of his touch and he can sense the steady rhythm of your thighs tensing against his.

Soon, your feet hit the stony steps. Placed on a higher level than him, it gives him reason to bend you over as planned, to hike your ass up above the waterline where it collects just around your thighs. It’s there you are instructed to hold steadfast on the edge of the onsen.

“Good, baby. Just like that.”

He reckons it’s his turn to make you pliant and easy access for himself. From where he stands below, waist deep in water, his face is lined with the entirety of your raw nether-region, anxiously awaiting to eat you out from behind.

But first, the sight of you like this is truly something to behold.

Here is a quick moment of pause for Gojo, caught in admiring the beauty of pearlescent vapors casting heat off of every bit of your skin, dancing upward through the shine of moonbeams contrasted against the darkness.

“Mmm.” There’s a tone of carnal wonder—and just a touch of light playfulness—in his humbled voice. “Your pussy is steaming hot, baby. Literally.”

You whine from the unfavorable lack of contact as he purrs his sweet words. Air is blown over your bare steamy cunt by his lips, cooling it down, watching it clench, eyeing heat vapors disperse around it. Then he gingerly pries the petals of your pussy open, lingers in admiration for another moment longer before finally tugging your thighs backward to strike his face onto the wet folds. He impresses a deep open-mouthed kiss onto it, sucking your pussy slow and deep into his mouth, and you snap—out comes your ungodly cry in ecstasy. He makes it sloppy, purposefully a bit disheveled, all wicked slurps and licks of passion, and a huff from his nose hits your asshole in a stimulating sensation.

The taste of the mineral water mixed with the sweet drip of your cunt thoroughly quenches his thirst for this christening.

Light daddy scruff from his lower face can be felt against you as another slow upward lick nearly grazes your anus. He wants to create a plateau of his tongue stretching across the whole of your pussy, so he’s scooping under to search for your clit and press there, toying with the nub for several long languid beats.

That is until he makes a quicker decision to swap it in favor of shoving his fingers inside you and pump them with force from behind. When you thrust back to help his fingers reach deeper, he already misses his face being trapped and pressed to your cunt, so he moves back to slurping your clit too.

Your head falls forward as you crescendo from tiny whimpers into staccato groans, then sensing him pause for the smallest of moments only to catch a breath where you can feel his rapid draw of air.

He is attuned to when your hips begin gyrating harder onto his sucks, it’s a signal you’re close to your finish. So he doubles down, grabbing hold of your sides in a bruising grip, fingertips digging deep into the flesh of your hips where he forces you tighter onto his face. All that’s left to give is a tiny sting of pain to send you reeling and crying out his name, so his large hand cracks down on an asscheek, several filthy slaps, with the swirl of his tongue still on you.

He alternates, working and circling open your tender hole to motioning down onto pulsating clit-sucks in such perfect rhythm, it’s like the epic beat of a hit song—and in an instant, it must be your favorite tune, because now you’re singing out along with it, belting out with a searing vibrant orgasm that courses through you.

Your elbows and knees wobble, near to collapse, but he’s caught you just in time with a slide of his arm underneath your tummy, holding you up with another hand by your outer thigh.

And you feel entirely supported by him, in many more ways than one.

You’re weakened and topple sweetly into the water, flopping backward into his broad chest. He draws in your back from behind, whispering warmth in your ear. “Daddy’s turn.”

The way your cheeks beam in post-glow daze has him tender-hearted. “Aw, my little cherrybomb…” he brushes away clumped strands of hair plastered to your face, “...like how only I can make you feel?”

Being older than you means he’s more experienced. No one other than Gojo has even remotely had you cumming as hard, so you can't deny his accuracy. You’d never dream of denying it anyway.

“Without question, daddy,” a little raspy voice so sincere, your body twirling in the clear blue liquid to face him outright, telling him point blank, “you’re the only one that has the power to make me feel this good.” Nearly sung like a lullaby off your tongue, you stare up at him with the most earnest eyes.

The sweet innocence of your praise is so astounding it raises his eyelids to widen so greatly until the appearance of the moon’s reflection fully shines in his eyes ; a genuine response to your unwavering devotion. Then it’s gone in a flash, because his eyelids shut when he’s peppering a line of kisses over your forehead and his dick is forcibly throbbing against you.

“Mhm yeah, you feel that?” He sucks on your earlobe, it’s still between lips as his whisper vibrates on the sensitive skin. “Want you bad. Help your daddy out now."

It’s nearly impossible to contain yourself when the all consuming thought and need in this moment is his grown cock in your hand, to supply him with anything and everything that would satisfy him, service him with the utmost amount of pleasure possible it’s as though he would never again know of pain.

Plunging forward and splashing further into the water, you hurl yourself onto him, a hand wrapped around his cock, an arm thrown around his nape. You pull him into another session of sucking one another’s faces, feverish mouths echoing moans into each other while you fist him below the water.

Gradually, the motion pushes him further and further backward until his spine hits an eventual rocky wall, arms-length away from the flow of the waterfall.

Gojo hauls you up by your thighs to wrap over his hips, simply wanting you to feel how hard he is from the outside, skin against skin, tenderly outlining the full protruding length of himself over your folds. Teasing between velvety lips, he’s grinning at how much of your slick can be felt through the water as he rhythmically runs his hard cock to bump up against your clit. Pleasure erupts through you with uncontrollable shuddering, from the remembrance of how unbelievable it could be just to have Gojo rubbing over you, the rush of the hazy memory all comes flooding back to you now.

Your head cannot withstand its own weight any longer, dropping dead into his fragrant shoulder, the scent of his neck driving you to delirium, inducing an almost intolerable desire for him.

“Enjoying yourself?” He chimes, but you are barely able to muffle out an agreement with your mouth muted against his skin. The best you can give is a tiny nod and it feels you’ve mildly blacked-out behind closed lids. “Tell me how much you need it.” He commands.

“I-I…” you start, but it dies in your throat, “...I...I–”

“Come on, baby,” he coos, a little smug, a bit more pride in his request, “I wanna hear it.”

You're at a loss, struggling to form coherent sentences, already helplessly weak from his cock and it's not even inside of you yet.

“...so...s-so bad, please…I–”

A wordless understanding soon emanates between you both, suspended in the air surrounding you. It’s a palpable exchange of etheric empathy. He understands–identifies, since you have never spent this much time apart before and seeping into the gravity of that is also beginning to make him feel dizzied. “That's it…that’s it…you can do it, sweets, you can tell me...” He rocks his taunting hips, hypnotizing your needy hole from the outside with the prodding head of his cock as you try once more to formulate a sensical sentence.

“D-don't think…I've ever…wanted anything–so badly–I-I–”

The more you babble, the harder he throbs.

“Daddy, I just–!” You feel actual tears starting to well up in your eyes, “–missed you so much-!”

An unexpected pang in your chest induces a flood of tears from your lower lash line. It’s only obvious to you now that you’ve been harboring this specific avoided emotion for a while, possibly even weeks. Trying to keep “strong”, convincing yourself you’ve been fine, or shoving down anything that would surface from within you about making the distance a bigger deal than you thought it ought to be.

Feeling so foolish, naive, to be crying with a mix of anguished pleasure for him, you lightly choke on your resistance to all of it, but without any ability to stop it.

He slows, then halts to observe your face, detecting the moisture below your eyes. It catches him by surprise. Concerned for you, he speaks with care.

“Aww, angelll…”

A tear streams down your cheek where he stops it with his lips, kissing it away, and Gojo feels his cock swell harder.

Undeniably horny by your undeniable ache for him.

A hand swipes over your face, shushing you to calm. “Shh…that's alright, okay baby, shh, you did good–so good speaking up for me–letting me know how much you want me…” soothing tingles by gentle scratches of his hands along your back quell you, “...re-laaa-x…shh…that was good enough for me now.”

Your cheeks are burning, born out of the pit of stupidity you feel as it pools in your stomach. Yet still, you continue to tear up, subtle quivering comes in waves over your body and has him offering you more words of comfort.

“...Nnnm…I missed you too, hey, hey–” he cups your face, making sure you’re truly hearing him. “–I did too, I really did…I know, baby, I know…” since you’re already crying, he might as well give you a better reason to, in the only way he knows to make it better, “...missed you somethin fierce…here–lemme show you how much. Come’ere–”

Lining up with your drenched hole, he guides you down onto the smooth stretch of his thick cock and your breath constricts. It has your face contorting from the dizzying nature of it all, denting your nails into his broad back. Gojo’s glimmering eyes connect with yours, reflecting back a shared intensity. Your gazes mirror one another as two pairs of eyelids are drooping together in unison, carefully examining each other’s faces as you adjust to him and he finally bottoms out inside you. But he grants you mere moments before the overwhelming thirst for you is far too irresistible to bear any longer.

He surrenders to the will of his body as if possessed, chasing more of the sweet suck of your cunt in every thrust and now you’re crying from something else entirely. Strong, effortless, determined pumps of his length drive into your core, the way he knows you’ll always end up begging for, although now, no longer does he want to ask that of you.

In this instance, his sole purpose becomes your unspoken bliss, to anticipate your desires without you needing to word them, yearning to spare you any further trace of strain or exertion. He intends to allow you the full sensation of simply craving his strong presence, pistoning into you, to let you relinquish control, entrusting him to tend to every remaining detail of your pleasure.

“Does this make you happier, baby? Hm?” Still carrying you, he turns a 180, switching spots to push your back against the flat rocky surface and ram you up against the wall. “Does it? H-huh? Ngh. Does it make you ha-happy?”

The splishing of the waterfall and his fierce rhythmic grunts are the only sounds filling your ears. You nearly match the waterfall as more tears spill and that’s when you’re sure he doesn’t require a verbal reply. The confirmation of your entire body responding to him renders sufficient, like how your fingers instinctively entwine with his hair, gentle tugs at snowy locks for extra support, you then give a few wobbled nods.

But now he needs a little more support and leverage, gearing up for that one ideal angle in you.

Hanging low and tilted just overhead, rests a bamboo tree. Reaching that one sweet gummy spot inside of you will mean reaching one of his arms up to grab hold of it. Gojo steadily raises both of your connected bodies so both waists together are just a hair above the waterline. He is up on his toes, tight grip on the bamboo culm, when he pounds you to perfection, deep and generous, positively wrecking you ‘till you’re wailing from your finish in blinding satisfaction.

And daddy fucks you raw into the night, again and again, through to the edge of dawn; then later on, when the birds begin to chirp and you are fully spent in his bed – so fucking cute when you’re fast asleep – Gojo realizes he won’t ever grow tired of the faint traces of cherry smeared across his pillows.

. + .

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saintrvckwell · 1 year

Text

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life (joel miller x platonic!reader)

joel miller x platonic!reader

summary: perhaps now, twenty one years later, joel finally found the courage to face his fears. aka joel finally allows himself to accept the role he has in your life.

warnings: father-figure joel miller (more like an invitation rather than warning), fluff, slight angst at times, father-daughter duo kind of moments.

words count: 9.5k

a/n: joel miller was always the coolest father but pedro's portrayal took that to a whole new level. dedicated to all the daddy issues strugglers out there (myself included). here's the dad you deserved to have.

ps: this is my first work focused solely on joel's character so be patient with me. <3

enjoy!

"and I will go if you ask me to. and I will stay if you dare."

•

You were a mission, something that was supposed to have a beginning and the end. Someone he was supposed to lead to a given location and walk away. It was supposed to be easy—that what Tess promised to Joel when she begged him to take you, fulfilling her dying wish. How easy it was for her to ask, how difficult it was for Joel to keep that promise.

There was a reason as for why was Joel so reluctant to take you—to temporarily care for you. Reason unknown to you. He was cold from the day you met him; made sure you knew all the rules and understood that whatever role you were going to assign him, he was not going to take it. After all, that was what he promised himself.

To keep his distance, to put the walls up and protect himself from the possibility of being hurt again. But you were too determined to tear them all down.

And at a certain point, he didn’t know for whom he was fighting anymore. To protect himself from you or to protect you from him? You’ve encountered things, places, people and tragedies one could only fear.

And with each strike he took, with each throat he slit before they lied their hands on you, Joel fell deeper. Into the sense of protection that was rising within him each time a danger appeared in your sight. Before he knew it, he was in the same spot he was twenty years ago.

That’s when the breaking point came. And he turned around, grabbed your hand and walked back to the only place that could’ve offered you the life you deserved. And deep down hoped Tess would’ve understood. In the end, he kept the promise—he made sure you were safe, more than that. He gave you the opportunity of the best life you could’ve had, given the fungal conditions around.

And you didn’t protest, didn’t utter a single objection. Because you would’ve followed Joel to the edge of the universe and back.

Or at least to Jackson.

You arrived at dawn, holding tightly onto his back, nearly falling asleep on the horse. The last few weeks you’ve spent outside were taking its toll on you. It was deadly cold out there with temperating falling down every second. You heard his voice, calling out your name three times before you opened your eyes. You were standing by the stables with Joel’s younger brother walking towards you.

“We’re here,” Joel whispered.

“Oh,” you yawned. “I’m sorry,” you pulled your hands away and slowly got off the horse with Tommy immediately offering his help.

“Good to see you,” he smiled politely, “both of you,” his eyes landed on his brother.

You waited outside whilst Joel and Tommy stabled the horse.

“So,” Tommy spoke again as soon as the three of you were together, “how long is it this time?”

And your eyes met with Joel. He shrugged his shoulders and briefly looked at you before his eyes met with Tommy’s again.

Joel was never good with words which you learned pretty quickly. It was all about his subtle actions—that’s how the two of you bonded. For all those days on the road and nights under the dark skies, you never led any deep conversations, instead found a comfort in each other’s presence. In your signals.

Being back in Jackson felt strange at first. Accustoming to such world after months in the wildness was odd to say the least. But it felt easier with Joel by your side—or at least, that’s what you were hoping for since he brought you here. Yet, after a few days in, you couldn’t overlook the way he was trying to distance himself from you.

First, it was about the house.

With the previous one being given to a family that recently came to Jackson, Maria and Tommy had to find a new place for you.

“I wanted you to have something of your own,” Joel admitted one night whilst the two of you were sitting in the kitchen, eating leftovers. “But Maria said they’re full right now. As soon as something opens, I will let you know… if you’d like.”

You were caught off guard by that.

There was a part of you that hoped—no, that took this as a foregone conclusion that you and Joel would be living together. You couldn’t even picture yourself being alone considering how accustomed you’ve gotten to Joel’s constant presence. In certain sense, he represented some sort of safety blanket. He was the reason you came to Jackson in the first place.

Perhaps, you thought, now that his job was done, he might have thought that the two of you should go your separate ways. At the end of the day, he wasn’t your family—just someone who was promised to look after you.

Perhaps, you were not as significant to him as he was to you. There were too many scenarios running through your anxious mind. But you never asked.

Then, it was the patrol duty.

When Tommy showed up at your doorstep, three days after your arrival, he mentioned that kids your age were starting to learn how to shoot so they could join the junior patrol groups.

“You should go,” Joel proposed once Tommy left. “Tommy’s good with guns. You’re going to learn from the best.”

He sounded almost uninterested.

You looked up from your bowl of breakfast, hurt glancing in your eyes.

And he quickly became aware of that.

“What?” he asked and you didn’t know whether it was care or rather annoyance that you heard in his voice.

“You promised you were going to teach me how to shoot.”

There it was again in his eyes—the regret.

He thought, with genuine worry in his heart, that giving you space was what you wanted—what you deserved. Without realising he was hurting you both in the process.

Joel didn’t know how to walk in this, how to approach this new situation he found himself in. He wanted you around, he wanted to make sure were alright. But didn’t know how.

That afternoon, when you left the house to join Tommy and the rest of the kids, Joel was already gone. His brother had him signed on old kinds of duty around the settlement—giving him an opportunity to contribute. And as much as Joel complained and growled, he like the idea of being of use—being needed.

You arrived by the Tipsy Bison, joining the group of kids standing around and registered.

A young man, approximately in his early twenties looked upon the list of names he was holding before his eyes met with yours.

“You’re signed on the East Gate, Tommy’s waiting for you there,” he informed you.

You squeezed the straps of your backpack as you walked by the stables, nervously looking around. You were still trying to adjust but it felt so difficult at times, especially when you were alone. Tommy was nice, considering he most likely knew nothing about you, beside what Joel must have told him. But you didn’t felt that kind of safety you had around Joel.

Joel, who was standing three feet away from you, with riffle hanging over his shoulder.

Maybe he joined the patrol group as well, you thought as you headed towards him.

“Do you know where Tommy is?” you asked as you looked around, looking for his brother.

Joel frowned, almost offended.

“Am I not capable enough?” he mumbled playfully.

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on.

“What?”

Before you uttered another mumble of confusion, Joel stepped closer and handed you the riffle.

“C’mon kid, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

The gate opened and Joel headed outside the safety, with you following his steps. There was a smile on your lips as you looked up and saw him, already explaining the route you were going to take—the high spots you were searching for. This was his way of apologising—his way of trying to do better.

Of making sure you knew that.

That day, you spent the whole afternoon together. What was supposed to be a regular two hour training that most kids took Joel turned into five, with the two of you coming back shortly after sundown, already past dinner time. It was the first time in a while you saw Joel genuinely laugh as he watched you struggling to reach the target.

You returned to Jackson with an empty magazine and one successful shot. But as you the two of you were walking home, side by side—it didn’t matter to you. It didn’t matter how terrible your aim was, how much of Tommy’s ammo you waisted. What mattered to you was the look in Joel's eyes, the smile on his lips he had as he was watching you.

He let his guard down, even if it was just for a second. And there he was—the Joel that was watching stars with you on the road.

It was about these moments. They meant whole world to you.

“You hungry?” he asked as you passed the dining hall.

You shook your head. “I’m alright. Besides, I think we’re already past the dinner time.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen you eat since breakfast,” he commented. “I could make you something at home.”

Home.

It stuck with you.

He didn’t think about it when he said that. Perhaps, that was the revelation you were waiting for. That Joel felt the same way and what you had was, indeed, a home.

Joel’s parental instincts were always there, no matter how determined he was to suppress them. Every night on the road, he stood by your side with gun in his hand, every time you fell asleep without ur blanket, Joel made sure you were tucked in. Each time he promised himself it would be the last. But always failed to do so.

Truth was, without the fear of enemies lurking in every corner and in the safety of Jackson’s settlement, it was easier to slip back into his old, fatherly habits without even realising. Only took a few weeks for Joel to accustom to this life—to having you around every day.

You sat together for breakfast every morning and met by the gates every afternoon after your assignments ended to take you for another shooting lesson.

Month later, you hit three out of six targets. Each time, he stood beside, that proud smirk on his lips. Three weeks after that, you hit five of them. That night, Joel even offered to take you to the movies as a reward for your successful lesson.

You were so excited—you wanted to join the others for so long but didn’t feel like going by yourself so having Joel propose that idea felt quite nice. But after all the training and another two hour long shooting lesson, you started to get weary. Twenty minutes into the movie, your head crashed onto Joel’s shoulder as you slowly fell asleep. His eyes landed on your sleepy face and there it was again—that smile. The one he didn’t have in a while.

Two hours later, you woke up in half empty dining hall.

“Need a hand?” you heard a familiar voice around you, mixed with laughter.

“I got it,” Joel replied.

A few seconds later, Joel’s hand caressed your cheek. “Kid?”

You quickly became aware of your pposition and immediately pulled away, despite the tiredness still wearing off.

“Shit,” you whispered, rubbing your sleepy eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Joel shook his head. “Let’s go get your jacket.”

He got up and you, still not fulling woken up, followed his steps. Joel noticed how somnolent you were, so he walked you to the door, helped you put on the your jacket, wished Maria and Tommy good night before you headed out back to your place.

You were barely seeing above your own feet, tiredness still having power over you as you struggled to keep up with Joel’s pace. Didn’t take long for him to realise that you were two feet behind. He swiftly turned around, rushing towards you.

“I’m so tired,” you yawned. “I just want to lie down.”

“Absolutely not,” Joel mumbled. “Let’s go, we’re two streets away.”

“That’s so far,” you whined. “I could just lie down right here and fall sleep.”

He couldn’t help but laugh over your statement. He stepped closer, threw his hand around your shoulder and pulled you closer to keep you warm. “Two streets and we’re home.”

There it was again.

Being too tired to notice, you paid no mind. This time it was Joel who was caught off guard by his own words. As the two you walked through the quiet streets of his brother’s settlement, it slowly dawned on him. There was no point in denying. It was a home—to you, to him. Even if he wasn’t strong enough to admit it out loud, it was your home.

Three weeks later, Jackson county was covered in snow. Due to an ongoing blizzard, all of Joel’s shooting lessons were postponed until further notice, as Maria prohibited him from taking you outside the settlement in such unpredictable conditions.

That afternoon, she showed up unannounced by the east gate—already figuring out your and Joel’s teaching schedule. To keep the two of you busy, she signed you to decoration duty instead.

As the holiday season was slowly approaching, the whole settlement was getting ready.

Joel’s disgruntlement over her orders couldn’t be more obvious. But he swallowed his need to object and accepted the orders, leaving you in Maria’s hands.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t like those little trips of yours,” Maria admitted whilst the two of you were scavenging the decorations for the Christmas tree Tommy, Joel and other men were putting up.

You shrugged your shoulders, “We’re not going that far. Just around the settlement.”

“Why can’t you just go with the other kids at school?” she asked.

“Don’t you always say that we should only head out there with those we trust?”

She saw the look in your eyes and knew there was no need to say anything more. You knew she meant well—Maria wanted you to adjust to this place, to make friends of your own age. But she was also aware of the fact that separating you from Joel would do more harm than good. She did not agree with most of his actions but still respected that man. After all, he was her family.

That day, you got there late. Joel was already back, sitting in the living room with book in his lap. As interesting as the crime thriller could have been, Joel’s attention was elsewhere. Sitting in an old chair by the window, he was impatiently waiting for your arrival. It was shortly after nine when you came. As soon as he saw you on the porch, he grabbed the book, suddenly finding interest in every line.

You entered the dark hall, seeing the only source of light coming from the living room. That’s when Joel finally looked up, seeing you standing there with snowflakes in your hair.

“Hey, didn’t hear you coming,” he greeted you, closing the book. “How was your decorating duty?”

“How was yours?” you mumbled sarcastically, ready to roll your eyes.

Joel chuckled over your reaction. “Fair enough.”

For a second, the awkward silence crept in until Joel spoke again.

“I grabbed you some food on the way back,” he announced. “Left it in the fridge for you.”

“Oh… thanks,” you whispered, quite taken aback by that gesture. “But uh, Maria took me to dinner…so.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head.

There was a reassuring smile on his lips—even if it was for a moment.

“By the way…” Joel spoke again, sensing that you wanted to head upstairs. Once he got your attention again, he continued: “Tommy asked me today if we’d want to join him and Maria for Christmas Eve dinner next week.”

We.

You tried to hide that unexpected excitement his words left in you, yet Joel still managed to spot that glimpse of sparks in your eyes.

“It’s not mandatory, so if you don’t want—“

“No!” you interrupted him. “I mean yes… yes, we can go.”

“Oh,” he whispered, surprised by your sudden reaction. “Alright then, I’ll tell Tommy.”

After that, the awkward silence appeared again. You stood there for moment or two before Joel considered that it was time to go—he wished you good night and quietly disappeared upstairs, whilst you stayed there for another second. It was so unusual to see Joel this nervous and you wondered what could’ve been the cause of that.

With the holidays approaching, the thought of the old days was harder to avoid, especially with all those children running around. Everywhere he went, he saw her, saw the memories tied to her. It was easier to avoid those when he lived in Boston. The only haunting things were his nightmares which he usually deadened with a bottle of whisky and sack of pills. But here in Jackson, it was different. There was the glimpse of normal life—as normal as one could get in such world. It was way too easy to look at those luckier than him and wonder what could been.

That could been the root of the problem as for why Joel struggled with the way he felt about you. Each time he grew closer, it frightened him. He was frightened by the idea of encountering the same pain again because he knew that this time—he couldn’t bear through. He couldn’t suffer through the loss of another daughter.

Because that's who you were for Joel.

You were his daughter. Despite the numerous times he tried to fight, despite his inability to express this, deep down, Joel knew it. Even as terrifying as it was to admit it, you were his kid. He never stopped being a dad, he was just now yours.

And when he lied awake that night, he made a decision. Maybe it was time to stop running away from it—to stop running away from you.

When you woke the next morning, something felt different. Dressed up and ready, you ran down the stairs, surprised to see what was in front of you. Lighted and decorated, there was a Christmas tree standing by the fireplace. You couldn’t quite comprehend that sight.

It was barely after eight o’clock. You couldn’t help but wonder when did Joel managed to do this. In the kitchen, you found a message on the table along with a piece of apple pie that he must have brought from the dining hall.

Tommy and I had to leave early, there’s been accident at the power plant. Maria’s going to bring you dinner tonight. We should be back in a few days but if not, Merry Christmas kid.

— Joel

A part of you felt saddened over the thought of Joel possibly missing the Christmas Eve. But at the same time—you couldn’t help but smile over him doing all of this before he left. Putting the Christmas tree, getting you breakfast. He wanted to make sure you would still have good time, despite him missing it.

Later that day, Maria stopped by with dinner. As soon as she entered the hall, she couldn’t overlook the shining Christmas three. You two dined together in silence, washed the dishes and even offered for you to stay at their place until Joel and Tommy return. But as kind as her offer was, you politely declined. That night, you fell asleep on the couch, staring at those lights, hoping Joel was alright.

The blizzard out there wasn’t going away anytime soon. Each morning, whilst walking to your training, you couldn’t stop worrying. You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet that didn’t stop the ongoing fear that was rising within you each time you came home and he wasn’t there.

The house felt so empty without him there. Even though the two of you spend most of your time in silence or in separate rooms, you both had your comfort in each other’s presence. The idea of Joel being door away from you felt reassuring. Naively, you never thought that could change. In this sense, Jackson has softened you. Those gates around gave you sense of protection.

But he didn’t have that.

Each night, you waited. Sitting in his old chair by the window, you held your switchblade between your fingers and waited until you fell asleep. Fell asleep with a hope and woke with coldness wrapping around your body and disappointment that dawned on you when you found his room empty.

Three days before Christmas, you felt the need to express your anxiousness to Maria.

“The plant is a few of miles away. And with the snowstorm out there, it would be too dangerous to head back in such conditions,” she explained. “They’ll be back soon, you’ll see.”

You knew she was worried as well. But she did much better job at hiding it. She promised you that even if Joel and Tommy didn’t make it in time, you would still celebrate the Christmas Eve, together. And as much as you appreciated that effort—you didn’t care about celebrations of any kind. The only thing you cared about was Joel.

On twenty third of December, the clouds of fog and heavy flakes of snow finally disappeared. Yet there was no sign of Joel nor Tommy. You waited by the East Gate whole afternoon until your fingers felt numb from the coldness. You waited there until the sundown when Maria came to pick you up. You protested, begging her to let you stay up with men from the night watch.

“You’ll wait for him at home,” she insisted. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re freezing.”

But you didn’t care and she knew. But there was no point in fighting with her. You sighed, jumped down from the lookout and with disappointment hidden behind your eyes, you returned to that empty house. That night, you sat in that chair with switchblade in your hand—just like all those previous nights and waited.

On the twenty four of December, Christmas Eve, you were sitting by the kitchen table with Joel’s note in your hand.

“We should be back in a few days but if not, Merry Christmas kid.”

The chances of Joel and Tommy returning before the Christmas dinner were slimmer with each hour that past. At noun, it was decided that small group of patrollers would head to that plant and bring them back. With the weather conditions improving, you knew there must have been a different reason as for why they were still not coming back. And Maria knew it as well, despite her best efforts to keep you calm.

“There’s Christmas dance going on at the hall tonight. We could go if you’d like,” Maria offered when the two of you met at the stables. “Or we could still make the dinner.”

“I think I’ll just stay home,” you whispered, grabbing your backpack from the floor. “I’m quite tired. And I have the kindergarten duty tomorrow, so.”

“Y/N—?”

“Just tired, really,” you interrupted her. “Don’t worry.”

“Alright then,” she sighed, not trying to persuade you. “But tomorrow—dinner at my house. No excuses, six o’clock sharp.”

You felt guilty for declining again. So this time, you agreed to her proposal. After all, you could really use a moment out of your house. Maria meant well, she cared about you and she wasn’t exactly happy with the thought of you being all alone there.

On your way back, you passed the gate again, stayed a second or two and waited. For a moment, you thought you could sneak out tonight and try bribing one of those junior patrols guys at the watch to let you sneak up there. But you knew one of them would tell and you didn’t want to cause any more unnecessary worry for Maria. She already cut you a lot of slack with all those assignments you signed yourself off of.

When the clock stroke eight, you lost all your hope that Joel could make it before midnight. But knew that he wouldn’t want you to stare out of that window forever. So you decided to stop by the Christmas dance to grab a dinner, at least. When you returned, you lit a candle and sat down by the tree. Though as much as you tried, your eyes always landed on that view.

Shortly before midnight, you headed upstairs to his bedroom. His bed has not been made since the day he left. There wasn’t much of sight of him, besides the stuff in the clothes where you were headed. You opened the wooden door and took out his old jacket. Maria forced two of you to get rid of most of your old clothes and gave you new, not ripped and stained ones, but he still kept that one jacket.

You took it off the hanger and put over your sweater. It still had it scent.

With that, you went back and with switchblade in your hand, you sat down on the stairs on the front porch. You heard the celebratory noises coming from the hall but didn’t feel the need to join. Instead, you looked up at the stars.

During one of those night out there, you told Joel how much you loved the constellations and even showed him some of them—which he found profoundly interesting, as much as he tried to tell otherwise.

There you saw it—Big Dipper. The one you showed him, the only one he managed to spot.

That’s when midnight stroke.

And tears rolled down your face. As you looked ahead and saw the darkness.

And a shadow.

Shadow of a man.

For a second, you thought you could blame it on your somnolent mind. But when your name slipped from his lips, twice, it wasn’t your imagination anymore.

It was Joel.

“Joel?” you whispered as you saw him, heading towards you.

You couldn’t quite believe it.

“Joel!” you called out, not waiting another second to rush towards him, meeting him halfway.

He was out of the darkness, standing right there in front of you.

It was him.

But the smile you had on your lips faded away the second you saw a blood seeping through the fabric on his right leg.

“Are you—“ you gasped, eyes landing on his injury.

He immediately realised where your mind went.

“No,” he reassured you, stepping closer. “It’s just an injury, a scratch. Nothing more.”

You noticed the trouble he had whilst walking.

“I still have aid kit in my backpack upstairs,” you mumbled, worried thoughts jumping from one another in your mind. “It’s not much but I can fix it. I could just go and fix it, just let me—“

“Y/N!”

His voice echoed in your ears. Suddenly, he stood right in front of you, his cold hands grabbing both of your puffy cheeks. There was one thing you had in common in that very moment. The fear that rose in both of you, the worry that was put on display when you looked into his eyes. You couldn’t hold it together anymore, despite the efforts.

“I thought,” you gasped between the sobs, “I thought you didn’t come because…”

“No,” Joel reassured you again, this time with a smile on his lips. “See? I didn’t. I’m alright, I’m alright.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, trying to comprehend what was going on.

And as he saw you, standing there in his old jacket, freezing and crying—if there were any remaining walls, they all fell down. In that moment, every single one of his parental instincts kicked the minute he pulled you into his arms.

“I’m alright, kiddo,” he whispered, caressing your hair as you cried out. “I’m alright.”

As soon as you pulled away, Joel threw his hand over your shoulder as you quickly helped him get inside. Sitting him down on the couch, you ran upstairs, throwing the backpack on the bed as you impatiently took out one thing after another until you find the first aid kit. Only then you rushed downstairs, fix Joel’s wounds.

You almost tripped over your own feet.

He was sitting in the same spot, eyes landing on the lightened Christmas tree.

After you sewed his injury, the two of you sat there in silence. Neither of you needed the words in order to embrace the comfort you had in each other’s presence. You sat there, watching the lights until you fell asleep on his shoulder. In that moment—Joel didn’t need anything else. He was home.

“Merry Christmas, kid,” he whispered, looking down on you.

Twenty minutes past midnight, Joel made it.

But then the dawn came.

You woke up, eight hours later, finally without those worries hanging over your head. In the same spot you fell asleep, only with blanket covering your body. It was quiet, peaceful. Until you slowly awakened and your eyes landed on the wall clock above the living room dresser.

Within a second, you were up on your feet.

“Shit!” you yelled out, ignoring the possibility of Joel, still being asleep.

With tiredness wearing off, you tripped over your feet tree times, with each almost landing on your face. You quickly changed your clothes and ran back downstairs.

And there he was.

Leaning against the kitchen desk with cup of coffee in his hand, Joel couldn’t overlook the distress pictured all over you.

“Ever heard of a hairbrush?” he commented your appearance, being in the mood to have a little dig at you.

You didn’t have the time to roll your eyes over his words.

“I’m running late,” you whispered, looking around, trying to find your backpack. “I was supposed be at the kindergarten twenty minutes ago!” you cried out, stressed, trying to find your possessions. “Maria’s going to kill me. And where is that fucking thing?”

“Tried your room?” Joel proposed, visibly being amused by your current state.

“Dammit!” you yelled out, running back upstairs.

Within seconds, you were rushing back down, pushing your switchblade into your back-pocket.

“Gotta go—!” before you managed the disappear outside, Joel’s voice stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he headed towards you.

You turned from the doors, “to my assignment? I already missed most of them this week. Can’t screw this one as well.”

“Where’s your other jacket? The down one that Maria brought the other day?”

You stared at his, utterly confused over that question.

“What?” you shook your head. “What are you talking about?”

“Y/N, it’s freezing out there, you’re not going in this,” he pointed to your windbreaker.

In this moment, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“I don’t have time for this—“

“Y/N, this is not open for discussion,” he stepped closer. “Go and get the other jacket.”

“Joel—!”

“Now, Y/N,” he repeated, admonishing look in his eyes.

He was never more parental than in that moment as he watched you grumpily running upstairs to grab your other jacket.

You came down, clothes changed.

“Now hat, and gloves. Where are your gloves?”

“Seriously?!”

There was something unimaginably funny as he watched you losing your temper when you did a second round of running and came back, redness in your cheeks.

You put it on and looked at Joel, annoyance expressed all over your face.

“Happy?” you mumbled sarcastically, grabbing your backpack from the floor.

“That you’re not going to freeze out there? Yes, I am,” he shrugged his shoulder. “Although,” he stepped closer and pulled the zip of your down jacket up to the top. “Now, I am.”

You rolled your eyes, once again.

He couldn’t help but chuckle over that response.

“You’re warm enough?” he asked.

“I’m sweating like a pig, Joel.”

“Better than freezing, don’t you think?” he couldn’t help but have another dig at you. “If you caught cold, I would be the one running around you.”

“Well, I couldn’t rob you of your favourite I told you moment, could I?” you grinned. “Besides, with this leg… you can barely walk so I don’t know what running you’re talking about, old man.”

He bursted into laughter.

“You're such a stubborn pain the ass, you know that?” he observed between laughs.

But then it happened.

“Okay, dad.”

That one sentence that was supposed to be an innocent joke—a little dig.

Carrying little no meaning.

Until you saw how Joel’s eyes suddenly shifted. And the laughter was no longer there. The spark was gone and he stood there, quiet and frozen. Stiff and numb over your words.

It’s been more than twenty one years since he last heard that.

His heart dropped into his stomach, the world around became too heavy.

There she was, in his mind again. That day, that exact moment. His eyes landed on his watch.

He heard his name coming out of your mouth, three times before he looked up—seeing the genuine worry displayed right in front of him.

“Joel—?“

“Go,” he whispered, so coldly.

You shook your head, confused. “Joel, are you—?”

“Go,” he repeated. “Your assignment is waiting. Leave.”

You stood there for two second, before you heard him again—urging you to leave. All at once, you couldn’t recognise him. You had no idea what caused this strange reaction, but didn’t dare to ask. Instead, you obeyed. You bowed your head and walked out of your house.

Each step you take, the further you were from the house, the more guilt was rising within you. What could you have done to displease him this much?

You’ve experienced Joel’s anger a few times, while the two of you were on the road. To be honest, Joel’s patience was thin and you knew what strings to pull to get him into rage. Him yelling at you became a daily routine at one point. But you’ve never seen him like this. The stare he had, the emptiness in his eyes.

As if you were dead to him. Truth was, you would much rather had him screaming at you than being this eerily quiet.

You arrived to your assignment and quickly got to work, hoping no one would notice your delay. But even with the amount of work you had around, you couldn’t stop thinking about that odd encounter with Joel. What could’ve been that made him so upset?

Could’ve been the joke, you thought. But it was an innocent statement, with not much truth in it. Or was it? Or was it something that accidentally carried more truth that you were willing to let on? Could Joel sense that?

One too many scenarios running through your worried mind.

“Y/N?” Maria’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked up and saw her, standing by the door.

“Hey,” you mumbled, putting the basket with toys on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Just checking in,” she replied, smile on her lips. “I stopped by your place but forgot your had your duty today. Wanted to take Joel to infirmary but looks like you already took care of that.”

“Oh, yeah. It was nothing,” you whispered, eyes landing on the floor, the desire to avoid every conversation that included his name rising with each second. “I have a lot to finish today, so…”

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Maria laughed. “Just wanted to say that since Tommy and Joel got back in one piece, we thought we could have the Christmas dinner today. After all, the holidays are still on.”

“I don’t think Joel’s in mood for celebration of any kind,” you admitted.

“I already talked to him and he agreed.”

So maybe he managed to cool down, you thought. Or at least, you were hoping for that.

Maria stayed for a few more minutes, asking you to come earlier tonight to help prepare the dinner. She freed you from your afternoon assignments to have enough time to change and get ready. You stayed at the kindergarten until one in the afternoon, then helped for two hours at the stables before you headed back to your house.

You learned from her that both Tommy and Joel had a day off so part of you hoped you would run into him. But when you came, the house was empty. Joel’s backpack and gun were lying by the chair but he was nowhere to be found—as you searched every room around. You tried to not think much of that but there were still those doubts inside you.

Luckily, you were running out of time—which meant you had to hurry up and pull yourself out of your worried mind. You didn’t have any decent clothes to wear, except for the regular ones. So you just grabbed a clean sweater, pants and tied your hair up before you headed to Maria’s.

When you arrived, Maria was already cutting the vegetables in the kitchen. You let yourself in, throwing the jacket on the hanger in the hall as she called you in. It was the first time you were in their home as they mostly came to visit you and Joel. It was much bigger than what the two of you had but all those details displayed around implied that they’ve been here for quite some time. Each corner had a track of them. There were pictures on the walls, books on the coffee table with an empty cup, flower pots on the windowsill.

But what caught your attention was a board, resting on the top of the fireplace.

You didn’t mean to snoop but when you saw those names, you couldn’t look away. There were two of them, along with four dates. Took only few seconds for you to realise what this was supposed to meant.

Shivers went down your spine. Especially once you heard Maria calling you again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, rushing into the kitchen.

“It’s alright, just finish these carrots,” she handed you the knife. “I need to start preparing the meat.”

You took the orders without any objections.

You wondered. Were they Tommy’s or Maria’s children? Or did each belong to one of them? You wouldn’t guess the two of them to experience such loss since they’ve both seen so well put together.

But you knew yourself how easy it was to put up a believable surface. You did that after Tess’s death, despite how painful it was to lose someone so close. You didn’t have any other option. Maybe they were once in a similar position.

Eventually, every person finds a way to live with their pain. They either face it or suppress that, deep down.

You only now realised how important must have been this child to Tommy and Maria. Get a second chance in a world like this was almost a miracle.

“Tommy’s memorial caught your attention?”

Almost as if she read your mind.

You startled, nearly accidentally cutting yourself.

“I wasn’t… you mumbled, embarrassed. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Maria looked up, reassuring smile on her lips.

She was kind, like always.

“I’m sorry about your kids.”

So you felt the need to let her know.

Her eyes locked with yours again, “Thank you. Although, just a kid, Kevin.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “So Sarah was Tommy’s daughter?”

“She was his niece,” Maria replied, still preparing the meet.

In that moment, the world around stopped for a second.

Tommy’s niece.

Meaning?

You had to take a deep breath.

“So, she was…” you swallowed, feeling the frog in your throat growing bigger each second.

“Joel’s daughter,” Maria finished your sentence, paying no mind to your current state.

Joel’s daughter.

Joel had a daughter. A daughter just three years younger than you.

You needed a moment to process this.

He used to be someone’s dad.

Then the last piece of the puzzle was found. And the mystery was solved.

And your shattered heart dropped into your stomach.

He used to be a dad.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Suddenly, you’ve never felt worse. For what you said, for being so cruel. All those days, all those moments, all his words—all at once it made sense. It was the last clue you needed to win the prize. Was it worth though, was the question.

“Y/N?” you heard Maria’s voice calling your name.

Three times before you looked up, still a little spaced out.

“He didn’t…” she whispered, putting two and two together. “Oh…”

“That’s alright,” you shook your head. “It’s not your fault.”

You didn’t know how to approach this newly revealed information, how to solve the problem without causing even more of them. Joel was never the most sharing individual, neither of the two of you was. Though you couldn’t blame him. He was keeping this inside of him for more than twenty years. One could one fear how difficult that must have been.

“How did it happen?” you dared to ask.

Maria looked you. She knew this wasn’t her place to talk but still gave in. “I don’t know the details. Just that it was the day of the outbreak.”

You thought there was no chance this could get any worse.

“Day after Joel’s birthday.”

Somehow it did.

And you felt even more guilty for asking these questions in the first place.

You thought of this afternoon, when you were rushing back to your house, hoping you would find Joel there. Now you were on the verge of praying to every none-existent higher power that he could change his mind and not come. You wanted to do everything you could to avoid him, out of the shame that you were feeling.

That of course, did not happened.

At half past six, Tommy arrived from Tipsy Bison with bottle of scotch and smile on his lips. He had a stitch above his eyebrows, meaning both him and Joel were involved in whatever fight that went down at power plant, probably with those raiders Maria kept mentioning. Greeting both of you, he kissed Maria on the cheek, placed on the bottle on the kitchen desk and disappeared upstairs to change his clothes.

Thirty minutes after him, Joel arrived.

You were in the middle of settling the dinner table when you heard the door slam. You paid no mind, placing the four plates on their spots. Only when you turned to get the cutlery, you saw Joel standing by the coffee table—his eyes immediately landing on you.

The fear in your face was difficult to overlook. For a second, your sight shifted from Joel to the memorial board right next to him.

For a second.

Yet he still managed to catch that.

Without a thought, you turned around and headed towards the kitchen to grab the tray with glasses and cutlery. When you came back, you saw him standing on the same spot. Only now, his full attention was directed towards that board before you caught his attention, again.

It didn’t take much for him to realise the nature of your behaviour—beside what happened this morning.

You stood there, staring at the each other. Your heart was pounding louder with each second, hands were sweating, the tray in your hands shaking. Only when Tommy’s voice called out for Joel, you looked away and went to finish your job.

Feeling even more ashamed than before, if it was still possible.

To say the dinner was awkward would have been an understatement. The four of you sat by the table in silence, with mostly Tommy or Maria leading the conversation. Their words and the conversation in general was revolving mainly around Jackson and things related to that as both of them sensed that none of you were in the mood. Maria kept checking on you—she didn’t miss how determined you were to avoid Joel’s eyes.

It was after dinner when you saw him lighten up a little. Tommy grabbed the bottle of scotch and took Joel into his little office space downstairs, right in the entrance hall. Which you and Maria used as an opportunity to wash the dishes.

You placed the dishes right next to the kitchen sink when you heard Tommy’s laugh.

“…it’s time consuming!”

Shortly, it was followed by Joel’s brief laughter. Still, it was nice to know he was easing up.

“It’s that stupid clock joke Tommy heard this morning,” Maria commented as you handed her the dishes, one by one.

There wasn’t any response coming from you. Your mind was too preoccupied for that.

And as much she didn’t want to cross the boundaries, she was worried about you.

“Joel cares about you, you know,” she spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at her, handing her the plate.

“I’m not really sure about that right now,” you admitted. “Although, I couldn’t really blame him.”

“You worry too much,” Maria chuckled.

“Can you blame me?” you muttered, looking down.

“I had plenty of evidence to be confident in my previous claim.”

“Like what?” you sighed.

“A, he brought you here—“

“I saw him spare a rabbit once. So not leaving me out in the cold is not a strong argument.”

Maria chuckled again.

“He brought here and asked for the two of you to be placed together.”

Wait a minute.

You looked up once more, confused over Maria’s words.

“No,” you shook your head. “Joel said you just didn’t have any other place for me…”

“We have a few houses specifically for kids of your age. Since I knew your situation and wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to be around your peers. I offered that to Joel. But he insisted that you stay under his roof.”

That sudden new information needed a second to process.

You thought that, perhaps, he thought the two of should take your separate ways—that’s why he mentioned that you should have a place of your own. When in reality, he wanted you around. He asked to have you around.

“What’s B?”

Maria took a deep breath and placed the plate into the sink.

“It’s tough to lose a child, in any kind of world, fungal or not. And it is even harder to allow yourself to care this way again, for somebody else. Which is why you might have felt like he was pushing you away at times, maybe even right now. But despite his actions saying otherwise at times, you mean a whole world for him. You are his whole world.”

You wanted to believe every word of that statement. Because that’s what Joel was to you. After everything you’ve encountered, Joel was the closest thing to a family one could have in this world. And you wanted to believe that you carried that value for him as well.

“You just have to cut him some slack. He might be scared,” she continued.

“Scared of what?”

“Scared of having another chance to be a parent. It’s way too easy to screw that job, in every world.”

Maybe all you needed to understand Joel was one conversation with someone who was once in the same position.

Suddenly, each attribute of Joel’s personality, each strange detail about him pulled together a one, bigger picture. Although the losses in your life might not have been as traumatic as those of Joel’s, you were starting to understand him. And deep down, hoped that you didn’t blow up all your chances to fix what you’ve broken.

That evening, you headed home first. After you helped Maria clean everything, you asked her to tell Joel that you were tired and left early. Even though there was a part of you, wanting to run after him and apologise, you couldn’t do it. Once you heard his laugh, you knew you owed him a moment of peace. Your conversation could wait for another day or two.

It was first time since this morning there was even the slightest amusement on his face. Could’ve been the simple stupidity of that joke, the bizarreness that somehow made him chuckle. He stood there, leaning against the grey wall with scotch in his hand, trying so hard to suppress those laughs.

“You can laugh, it’s funny,” Tommy teased him, finishing the rest of his drink. “It’s a great joke.”

“A really lame one,” Joel commented, squeezing the glass in his hands.

“Well, you never really had a good sense of humour so,” Tommy chuckled.

Joel shrugged his shoulders over that statement, partially agreeing before he drank the rest of his liquid courage.

It was getting late, he wanted to head home and get some rest. He handed Tommy the empty glass, patted his shoulder and gave him a fleeting smile—enough to let him know that he was thankful for the distractions. Only then he went into the living room, looking for you.

He found Maria instead.

She knew the answer he came for in the first place.

“She left a few minutes ago,” Maria answered the implied question. “But she left this in here,” she turned around and grabbed pair of green gloves. “Could you give that to her?”

Joel nodded, bitting his lower lip, slowly immersing into his thoughts.

“Well,” he snapped out his head after a second, squeezing the gloves in his hands, “I should probably go too. Thank you for the dinner, though.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled.

He knew where he was going. Yet before he made a single step, the memorial board caught his sight again. He was aware of not always being the most pleasurable human being to others around, though he always justified that by saying that he was only trying to protect himself. But when he visited today, for the first time, and saw the board—there was regret. For, maybe, being too harsh at times.

Everyone was carrying around their own kind of pain. Some were just too good at hiding it.

So before he left, he turned to Maria.

“Listen,” he cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “About…”

She knew where he was headed. And wanted to spare him the difficulties.

“I know,” she whispered. “Me too…”

Nothing else needed to be said, they both understood.

With that, Joel grabbed the rest of his stuff and set off.

As he walked through the streets, seeing the lights hanging on the houses and snowflakes falling to the ground, his mind wondered. Towards you, towards this morning. Part of him felt guilty for pushing you away so suddenly. You must have meant it as a joke, he thought. That’s what he’s been trying to tell himself the whole day.

Yet there was a part of him. Part of him that was terrified of you, being serious with that title. Joel came to terms with the way he felt about you, with the amount of care and sense of protection he had for you. But why was the idea of you feeling the same way about him so frightening? Why was it so easy to accept you as daughter but hesitate to become your father? He was in this same position twenty one years ago. And he couldn’t promise to not fail again.

There was guilt. Guilt he was carrying around for more than twenty years. Guilt of failing, for not being the father Sarah deserved to have in that moment. And it felt selfish of him to put another child through that. Maria was right. It was scary to have another chance with something so fragile. Perhaps, he should’ve just walked away, could’ve given up.

But somehow found himself standing in front of your door. With pair of green gloves in his hands and shame in his eyes.

He knocked on the door two times to make sure you were still awake. Only when he heard your voice, he let himself in.

You were standing by your closet, carefully folding your things.

Somehow, in this moment, seeing you so accustomed this place, it made Joel happy.

Then he saw the curiousness in your eyes and panicked. For a second, he panicked, overthinking his actions.

“Maria,” he mumbled, looking for the right words, “Maria… Maria said you left this at their place,” he finished his attempted and stepped closer into the room.

Your eyes landed on the pair of gloves in Joel’s hands.

“Oh…” you raised your eyebrows. “But these… these are not mine. I gave them back to Maria weeks ago because they were too small for me…”

You stopped for a moment and realised she achieved exactly what she wanted with that gesture. And you couldn’t help but chuckle over that.

Joel, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore the embarrassment rising within him.

Quickly, you saw that. Saw him clearing his throat and placing the gloves on the edge of your bed.

He stood there, for a second or two and you wondered if, perhaps, there was more to his visit. You looked into his eyes and saw the struggle—saw how desperately he was trying to find the appropriate approach to this situation and took this as an opportunity to set things right.

“Listen,” you whispered, catching his attention. “I just…”

You both struggled with finding the right words.

Placing the clothes you were holding just a second ago onto the closet shelf, you stepped closer to him.

“I’m sorry for what I've said this morning. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know that—“

The shame he had in his eyes was now glancing in yours. And he saw that, saw every bit of that.

That’s why he stopped you.

“No,” he shook his head. “Y/N, please no.”

He followed your lead and stepped closer, sitting down on the edge of your bed as the frustrated sigh left his mouth.

“It’s not your fault. How could you know…”

It was the first time you saw Joel like this. It was the first you spoke of this.

There was hurt in his voice and you knew he must have been trying to suppress that for quite some time.

You quietly joined him, eyes landing on the floor.

“Maria told you?” he asked, filling up the hollow silence.

“I saw the memorial Tommy made… you probably figure the rest,” you whispered.

Joel nodded.

“Don’t be mad at her, please. I swear, if I knew… I wouldn’t—“

He finally looked into your eyes, stopping your words. “Y/N, it’s alright. I am not mad at her.”

There was a sense of relief that flew through your body.

Although, there was also one question remaining.

“What about me?” you dared to ask.

He heard the tone of your voice and saw the worry in your eyes.

There it was, the confrontation he couldn’t keep running away from. For a moment, the hollow silence returned just as your fears. In the same exact moment that Joel finally decided to face his.

“If you think about me this way, if you feel about me this way… then I don’t… I don’t mind if you want to call me that.”

That certainly was not what you were expecting.

But it turned out to be better.

“I’m trying to say that even though I can’t promise you that I’m worthy of that title… if you want me to have that role in your life…” he whispered.

“I thought you already had that,” you admitted.

The shock in his eyes was evident.

“Listen,” you whispered, turning to him. “I was on my own for most of the time before Tess finally found me and brought me to you. I’ve never had anyone like that. So I don’t have much to compare with. But if dad is supposed to be someone who makes you feel safe, who feels like home, then for me, Joel, you are worthy of that title.”

There it was. It was no longer just an assumption but a long lasting wish. He got the truth, got what he wished for and feared at the same time.

“Depends on if you want it.”

In that moment, he wanted to allow himself to want it. But in order to do that. There was one last step remaining.

Joel needed to forgive himself.

He needed to finally put down that baggage of guilt he’s been wearing around for twenty one years. He needed once and for all, stop looking behind him. And look ahead and take the opportunity the universe gave him.

Perhaps, you were what he needed to achieve that. By making sure you were safe, he would able to forgive himself for failing at that twenty one years ago. Deep down, he knew, she would never want him to wear his sadness around his neck. There would always be a part of her in Joel, nothing was going to change that. But maybe now, he was finally able to make space for you, too. To be your dad.

You heard the chuckles and looked up again. And there he was, looking down at his something to fight for. His whole world.

He smiled quietly and replied, “I do, kiddo.”

And when the word left your mouth, calling him that officially for the very first time, he barely managed to hold it together. Every remaining piece of his baggage disappeared, every last piece of the sadness he was wearing around his neck fell down as he finally put his guilt to rest.

And he kept the promise he gave. To both of his daughters.

#writing #the last of us x reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou oneshot #tlou fanfic #tlou imagine #tlou au sort of?#the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #father figure joel

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sigmalaussene · 2 months

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Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham

As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy

10. "Funny looking fellow"

(season one)

We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.

9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"

(season two)

This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle

8. "Yellow rat snitch"

(season one)

We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???

7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"

(season four)

Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it

6. "Golden goose"

(season one)

Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.

5. "Beaky nosed freak"

(season five)

Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.

4. "Scaley faced bitch"

(season one)

This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.

3. "Sad little breadhead"

(season two)

This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.

2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"

(season two)

This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.

1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"

(season one)

This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.

Bonus:

(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)

Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)

Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys

His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)

He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao

#ofc “penguin” is implied #i finished my latest rewatch!!! ajsnakak i love this little silly guy so much AND i made my brother love him too YAY #gotham oswald #oswald copplepot #ed nygma #nygmobblepot #gotham #riddlebird #gotham fox #show #tv show #top ten #top ten weird ways oswald cobblepot gets called #gotham fandom #scaley faced bitch <3 #fandom meme #gotham meme

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 year

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a Magical Girl and the justice league 1 (platonic)

Part 1 part 2 part 3

Tagged: @harpy-space @mxtokko @viviyene

I shall make a part 2 sometime for the other members is just cause this already took me long enough lol

Also I’ll probably make one but for the light

It’s about a month after your initial adoption by Bruce that he knocks at your door one day

After you welcome him in your now adoptive father pokes his head in, a once empty storage room now full of personality and life

It makes him smile, especially as you you breathed a new sense of life not only here but also across the manor

As it turns out Superman, has practically been begging Bruce to bring you to the next Justice league meeting

And while Bruce wasn’t demanding you to go, he asked if you’d join (only if you were comfortable with it though) in the next few days

Safe to say you didn’t hesitate to say yes

Like fuck yeah your going, your not missing the opportunity to meet Wonder Woman…oh and the other ones

(Across the world several hero’s felt a chill go down their spine yet didn’t know why)

Each day you get more excited, your practically buzzing with excitement throughout the day and into the night

It gets to the pint that everyone kinda notices especially since your usually kinda stoic in the sense you control your emotions

It truly makes you seem like your age for once, bustling with energy and having a bright smile that makes your cheeks hurt after awhile

When he does take you (the others tried to convince him to let them come along he denied them) your extremely ecstatic

Your hand is slipped into Bruce’s, magical girl outfit practically sparkling in contrast to his grim and dark uniform

Safe to say it’s a culture shock to the rest of the league when the doors open to reveal you and Bruce

Y’all have the complete opposite aesthetic of the entire Batfam

You sit down, scooting your chair to a more comfortable distance near Bruce who hides a smile at the sight

Though the entire league is talking about serious stuff it’s obvious what their actually paying attention to

Your lightly kicking your feet under the table, Rigel curled around your neck and furiously taking note about what everyone says (lol)

You even colour code the entire transcript of the meeting

When the entire meeting is over and things have been discussed, Bruce is like “oh yeah this is my new kid. Say hi y/n” “hi” “let’s get this over with”

And then you have several adults crowding you looking at you with awe

Clark aka superman is the first to introduce himself, he reminds you of a golden retriever with how bright his smile seems to shine

He’s friendly and gentle, a certain enthusiasm in his voice as he lightly hovers above you till you use your powers to do the same

Bruce is brewing in misery as you, him, Hal and Martian man Hunter form a hovering squad

As he talks to you he kinda sends some slightly passive aggressive jabs at Bruce

Kinda salty his best friend didn’t fucking tell him how he adopted again, and that he didn’t respond for the 15th time to bring the family to his farm

He’s really happy the Wayne household has someone who’s as calm and level minded as you

God knows the amount of times he’s lost sleep wondering how Alfred keeps that house afloat

Thinks your outfits really fun and adorable, especially finds it cool that you can magically change it at will

He has a soft spot for small animals (he secretly befriended a few possums when he was a kid) so he loves Rigel

You haven’t told him that Rigel is an inter-dimensional god yet and your not sure he’d believe you

Definitely tries to convince you to meet his son and visit much to the chagrin of Bruce

Listen, Bruce likes Clark but he can be a bit overbearing for his and most of his families nature

100% will offer you a slice of his apple pie that Lois packed for him

Half the league doubles takes cause he’s never done that before and the last time flash ate it he was brooding in the corner

No matter the situation if he sees you he’ll give a polite little wave and smile even if it’s during a battle

Like once he and Luther were going at it but then you casually strolled by, both stopped gave you a hello and then right back into their fight

His wallet has pictures of Jon, Connor and Kara, and he’ll spend an hour talking about them

For April fools you buy him green rock candy as a joke and he eats it in front of lex

That leads to Luthor having a fucking panic attack now thinking the ONE thing that could seemingly kill him was now basically nothing to him

He finds it really funny if you change your outfit to look like a mini him cause it makes everyone (but especially Bruce) poute

When you find out that the only thing that separates his identities is a pair of glasses you end up not believing it

Until green arrow chimes in and is like “yeah that’s it”

Your silently wondering if people in metropolis just know he’s superman but don’t acknowledge it

Your betting on it with Flash and Aquaman

As a joke you begin calling him overpowered and a “Gary stu”. He’s so confused but doesn’t say anything

You sometimes go to him for writing tips for essays since he’s a reporter

And he absolutely helps you get an A without any effort

Lois and the rest of the family really want to meet you and he makes his fact very apparent

When your class trip went to metropolis he definitely does a fly by for fun

It makes you smile at how he makes the class erupt with cheers

Is definitely concerned for your safety but also your mental health because of the amount of stress you have over being the only one able to kill the “shadowmites”

He’s definitely glad Bruce has taken you under his wing and your basically safe wherever you go since you have some inate ability to befriend literally everyone by accident

He doesn’t really like you being friends with certain villains but as long as their not hurting you then he’s not complaining

Wonder Woman aka Diana Aka your favourite definitely catches on that she’s the favourite

And not to brag, she’s totally lowkey happy about it lol

She’s been your favourite hero since you were a kid since she was one of the only female ones

She reminded you of the magical girl cartoons you’d watch for your only bit of joy in the day

Thus you have a lot of respect for her

She finds it really cute that you look up to her so much

Especially since your such an amazing young mind with a kind heart

She doesn’t need her lasso to get that your telling the truth when you talk about basically abandoning your life to save others

100% tells you about themyscira and the Amazon’s whom she calls sisters

Definitely like everyone else finds your outfits really cute especially when she’s surprised by something new each time

Like the others she’s silently worried for your mental health but is at least happy you now have Bruce and his kids to help you as best they can

Maybe started a bet about what other villains you’ll end up befriending

Her bets are on Klarion since she has a feeling you’ll work whatever magic you did on Damien who’s similar in the fact that he’s a chaotic ball of anger

While meeting her you kinda inched your chair closer to her, she noticed and thought it was sweet

Bruce definitely pulls her aside as your talking to the others and explains that yeah “your the favourite” which makes her laugh at his kinda sour expression

At some point she places her tiara on you and takes a photo cause your super happy

She might be testing the idea of maybe taking you back home for a weekend cause she knows everyone would be really happy to meet you

Since she’s kinda immortal you go to her sometimes for history projects

She’s always happy to help especially since she really enjoys talking of all the change she’s seen over the years

It kinda makes her feel fuzzy that someone is interested since she kinda assumes most people find history boring

Definitely lightly teases you about using her as a source for your project lol

One day you show up with your magical girl outfit somewhat resembling hers and she’s gonna treat you like your her mini me for the day

And all Bruce can do is watch with the expression of “this is my life now. My kid is getting adopted by others now as well”

He is content though with how happy you are and how you don’t seem to ever not be able to bring a smile to others as well

She’s kinda iffy on you being friends with villains but after seeing them full on pause as you pass by she’s a little better with dealing with it

But she does worry that you might be influenced by their behaviour

Also she 100% can tell Rigel isn’t a normal Ferret and is the only one of the league to actually believe you

She’s not sure where he’s from but she trusts the white fur ball enough we’re she knows they’ll protect you

Flash/Barry Allen is sliding near you at the justice league table and leaving little post it notes with doodles and making funny face when no one’s looking

What can he say?, he’s good with kids and your not an exception to that either

He’s kinda like a fun uncle

The one who’ll pick you up and place you on his shoulders before running around base

Out the then all he’s kinda the most laid back of the bunch

Sure he can still get serious when the time calls for it but on the other hand he’s a chill guy

He’s also the most in touch with stuff than the others so when you reference something he’s like “I get it!”

While the others stare at him in confusion as you high-five him

Sometimes you like asking hims questions about his powers and y’all try to test it out

Bruce has had to stop him many times and put him in the figurative time out corner

He finds it fucking hilarious when he once walked In on your practicing and you had a giant battle axe as your magical girl weapon

Gives you several nicknames like “sailor moon” or “madoka”

Y’all definitely watch anime on your phone when no one’s watching

He likes messing up your hair only to see it go back into being perfect about a second later

Kinda is now tempted to go to the future and see what you do later on in your life

So he can then tease you about while your looking at him confused

You like to joke that he does shit too fast and he jokes back that your just two slow

By god Bruce is gonna kill him if he begs one more time for permission to gift you knockoff merch of your persona for the 50th time this week-

Pranks…just gonna say be careful cause he’s already on thin ice after the last time he pulled one

He likes telling you stories about his nephew and how proud of him he is

He finds your outfit pretty neat especially since you can change it by will whenever you want

Please be warned though that having anything yellow and red themed may be a bit iffy for him

Bruce probably warns about that beforehand along with not bringing up Barry’s mom

Probably finds it funny that your hanging out with villains n shit

Like especially since your kinda bow just like a neutral ground/entity

Finds it hilarious the juxtaposition of your aesthetic and personality vs big bad Bruce

Rigel is his lil buddy and likes curling up on his shoulder

Kinda gets cosmic vibes from the ferret though

#platonic #dc x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #wonder woman x reader #Diana king x reader #flash x reader #superman x reader #Barry Allen x reader #justice league x reader #Clark Kent x reader #magical girl y/n

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somerandomdudelmao · 8 months

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It's Cass appreciation time!!! Don't get me wrong, I think we all appreciate you exactly all the time, but I wanted to write it out because I'm filled with SO MUCH LOVE RIGHT NOW THAT I PHYSICALLY CAN'T CONTAIN IT.

So!

First and foremost, I think you're a wonderful person. I may not know you personally, but the way in which you go about things - not just in your comic, but the way you interact with people - just leaves me in awe. You're so gentle but in the most chaotic way possible, and it makes me so happy to be alive. You're supportive of people and the things they create, while also just... spreading the joys of not just the fandom, but so many other things too. You're one of the people on here that unites the fandom as a whole, and it's so inspiring! You bring so much love here, and I admire that about you.

Another thing that I admire is that you know what your limits are and that you take care of yourself. I see so many people these days who don't - some who just forget, some who don't realize they're doing it, and others who blatantly refuse to do so - and it's frustrating to see. I want to help them (aka: wrap them in a blanket burrito to protect them from the world, offer coping skills, give them the support they need- the list goes on), but I can't really do much of that without burning myself out. Which is why I love to see you take care of yourself - whenever I see those asks that are like "reminder to drink water / rest / take a break", it reminds me that I need to do it too, and I'm positive that it reminds others as well. That, and it's refreshing to see!

I also love how creative and spontaneous you are! The plots you come up with, as well as the characterization and overall flow of the story - not to mention the PERFECT amount of fluff and angst you give us (WITH THE PROMISE OF A HAPPY ENDING??? OH MY GOD)- leaves me floored every time! I don't know a whole lot about writing and portraying things, but I've learned a bunch just by what you do. LETS ALSO REMEMBER ALL THE SMALL DETAILS YOU PUT INTO THIS - THE PARALLELS, THE LITTLE SHOWS OF AFFECTION,AND JUST- EVERYTHING??? GHDBDKDBSJ

AHH!

You inspire me to create, and whenever I have the confidence to post what I'm working on, I'll be sure to tag you (bc all of it is related to your comic)!

I have so much to say, but not nearly enough words to fully express it! But this is also getting much longer than I thought it would, and as much as I want to sing you praises all day, there's not enough time. So to wrap this up:

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all that you do. I'm sure it's not easy - you're a whole person outside of this, and everyone has bad days - so, again, thank you. I may not know you personally, but I still care a great deal about you. Please keep taking care of yourself! Drink some water, have a snack, take a nap, make some time for yourself - whatever it is, have a fantastic time hon. You deserve it.

Keep being amazing, and I wish you the best!

Until next time, dearie ^-^

Oh god I don't even know what to say jcdtujdsukcdhb thank you yhank you thank you so much you just brightened my day I

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astrhae · 11 months

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some important and underrated lines in the books, related to wylan van eck (aka gold that i found again while writing the character study fic):

Wylan took a deep breath as if sucking in courage and sputtered, “You won’t throw me overboard. You need me.”

--- Six of Crows, Chapter 13. when i say wylan is unhinged, i mean he had the audacity to lie to kaz brekker (who doesn't know yet that wylan isn't the best hostage) AND use that lie to go against kaz AND actually win. jesper only notices wylan lying to kaz in the second book, but despite being wide-eyed as matthias describes, wylan's been lying to kaz from the very beginning. throughout the books, wylan gets better and better at using people's assumptions of him as a weapon/tool, and he admits as much when jesper says: "i'm going to stop underestimating you", and wylan replies: "then you're going to be a lot harder to surprise."

While Kaz explained and Jesper used the laundry shears to portion out pieces of rope, Wylan helped Inej and Nina prepare. To pass as members of the Menagerie, they would need tattoos.

--- Six of Crows, Chapter 28. wylan is CANONICALLY a tattoo artist. demolitionist. poisons expert. musician. and tattoo artist. do with that what you will

“I don’t like the idea of killing people, either. I don’t even like chemistry.”

--- Six of Crows, Chapter 32. HE LIKES NUMBERS. and music. and jesper. there's just something about wylan being forced into chemistry when he doesn't truly enjoy it, vs. everything his father's forced him to do when he doesn't truly enjoy it. he says this right after the we could wake him up line, and him mentioning that he doesn't even like what he's been doing all along underscores how much wylan's ruthlessness comes from a place where he doesn't want to be cruel. he's just. had to do a lot of things to survive. and he does want to survive

Gunfire sounded from above. Apparently, Wylan had found the controls. ... Wylan had scratches from the glass all over his cheeks and neck. He was beaming.

--- Six of Crows, Chapter 39. wylan is unhinged. truly. and i love him, really. he was really the first to figure out how to fire the tank. him, not jesper, which was a choice i very much approve of

He should be making a plan, maybe even plotting revenge, trying to gather his wits and his resources. And what was he doing? Wishing he could ring for tea... Whatever it took to survive the Barrel, Wylan knew he didn’t have it.

--- Crooked Kingdom, Chapter 23. first, wylan wishing he could ring for tea, vs. the parallel in the show where he offers the crows tea. second, wylan being painfully honest with himself. but third, he ends the chapter being able to navigate the streets of the barrel himself without knowing how to read the signs, which really reflects his amazingly good memory and skill for thinking along three axes, like the lockpick kaz compared him to

“Yes,” Wylan said, that one word imbued with a whole world of hope. “But I don’t have anything to bargain with.”

--- Crooked Kingdom, Chapter 28. wylan's spent so long bargaining for his life that by the time he meets genya, he doesn't believe he has anything left to bargain with. but wylan still tries, AND when he succeeds, he still has the audacity to get genya to make him look better

in conclusion, wylan might be shy but that doesn't mean he isn't scheming something, but that doesn't mean he wants to scheme, but that doesn't mean he isn't good at scheming. he's excellent at it, he's just an unhinged ball of contradictions, and wylan would, could, and should beat kaz in a chess match

#six of crows #wylan van eck #fic: staccato in coda #let's also not forget the part where wylan gets seasick and his father put him on a boat to belendt #or the things he did to an ambassador's leg #but THAT's an unhinged post for another day #anyway someone asked me why i wrote in the fic that wylan didn't have what it took to survive the barrel #and the answer is because wylan thought that #and i found that thought to be very interesting #will make a wesper specific post later

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rillils · 3 months

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how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

#stucky just stucky #personal #stucky #yes this is very dumb but dumb is my middle name lmao #i hope the read more works??????????#are all the pictures even there????#i'm too tired to check agsdjahkasdjk #sorry it took me a while to reply honey!!!!#i hope you're having a fantastic day!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #rillers scribbles

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esamastation · 6 months

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Part thirty-six of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five

What do you get when you take the random encounters of a turn-based RPG and add a hefty dose of action RPG, and then turn that into a semi-realistic world? You get absolute shitton of critters.

There's so many. Not just types, of which there admittedly aren't that many. There are lizards called Tail Vaults that try to headgrab you, there are huge beetles called, weirdly, Bizarre Bugs that either try to body slam you or poison you, depending on whether they feel like flying or not, there are birds that try to electrocute you, which are, disappointingly, called Thunderbirds - disappointing, because they're barely the size of falcons and something called Thunderbird should honestly be bigger…

Sephiroth is really starting to feel at home here! While the monsters of Final Fantasy VII so far aren't exactly impressing him with their variety or imaginativeness, they're just about on par with PIDW with how fucking annoying they are.

Because they never fucking stop coming!

"You know, I was really enjoying this," Sephiroth comments after another random encounter with half a dozen or so mixed mobs. "I was having such a good day. But these things just don't stop coming, do they?"

"Welcome to Wutai, it's all bugs and angry grasses from here to the bitter end," Angeal agrees. "Just be glad there aren't any Adamantaimai here."

"What's that?"

"Big turtle with a bunch of shield magic that throws all your attacks back at you."

"Ooh, I want to see one!" Sephiroth says excitedly.

"Sephiroth, no," Angeal says firmly.

"But -"

"Firstly, they live in the northern end of Wutai, so it would be a week's trek there, and for two we have our hands full here," Angeal says. "We're not going to see Adamantaimai."

Sephiroth sighs. "Fine," he mutters and looks ahead. "Oh, look, more bugs."

"Back to it, then," Angeal agrees, adjusting his gloves.

Though they can't seem to take more than twenty steps before running into more monsters, the fights themselves aren't hard. It's actually really cool, to just mow them down in single swings like he can! The Liu-shidi vibes are incredible, just, ten out of ten. And the more Sephiroth fights, the more comfortable with his body he becomes. He can almost feel his meridians unwinding!

It's really quite something to be in a body that feels so at ease, swinging a sword around. Though he could've done without the whole villain alien hybrid who will one day try to destroy us all thing, there's something really nice about fighting now. Like Shen Qingqiu felt at ease reading or painting or playing music, Sephiroth's feels most comfortable swinging a sword.

It's really becoming more and more apparent by the moment that Sephiroth's body is best suited for physical cultivation. He can just feel his stress levels coming down!

Ah, but he would really like a little break to take in the rest of what Wutai wildlife has to offer too! The forest around them isn't just a backdrop in a battle screen, there's all kinds of interesting plants, and he's pretty sure he's seen some familiar trees, and Sephiroth would really like to take a closer look!

"Can we take a break?" he asks, trying not to sound too plaintive after the umpteenth fight against endlessly spawning mobs.

"Are you getting tired?" Angela asks, alarmed.

Honestly he doesn't even feel like he's been exercising. Sephiroth has a fucking golden body, it's ridiculous. "No. I just want a break."

"Yeah, sure - we'll take a break," Angeal says and deals away with the rest of their most recent patch of enemies. "What's going on - are you alright?"

"I'm fine - I just want to take a look at that tree over there," Sephiroth says, nodding. There's a really huge tree a little ways from them, big enough that it's visible at a distance and past the other trees.

"Huh? I mean, sure?" Angeal says and looks. "I guess it's pretty impressive - is there something wrong with it?"

No, it just looks like a ginkgo tree. Sephiroth shrugs and, after making sure they're not about to be stormed by another swarm of low-level mobs, walks over to the tree.

It is a ginkgo tree, a really old one - old enough that if it was in PIDW, the locals would've already started giving it tributes in expectation of its awakening. It's so big it's starting to push out other trees around it, outcompeting them for space and sunlight, and so creating a clearing around itself.

It really… looks like a stray piece of home. Though there weren't that many ginkgo trees on Cang Qiong Mountain, there were some - including one really impressive one on the Beast Peak, which they were expecting to awaken any year now. The disciples used to hang charms from its branches.

Sephiroth puts his sword away as he approaches the tree. Feeling a bit silly but also not wanting to be rude, he bows to the tree before going closer. Gently, he rests his hand against the tree trunk. It takes some effort… but he can feel the Qi flowing in the tree trunk. There's a lot of it, too.

The tree is not awakening - but at the same time is not… not awakened already?

Probably something to do with the cyclic nature of souls in this world. Everything is sort of reincarnation of everything else - so the Qi in the tree is thousands of years old, thousands of lives lived.

"... Sephiroth?" Angeal asks quietly. "What are you, um…?"

"This tree is old. Very old," Sephiroth says - then bites his tongue on the natural conclusion of that statement in old as balls. Trying not to lose his composure, he looks up. "No trees like these near Midgar."

"... No, there aren't," Angeal agrees, eyeing him. "Can you… feel something from the tree?"

Sephiroth looks down at him. "You mean the Lifestream coursing through it?"

Angeal looks a bit startled at that before shrugging, uncomfortable. "I know they all say that Lifestream is just a bunch of nonsense - but it's like you said," he says. "No trees like this around Midgar."

"Mn," Sephiroth hums.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what might've happened if they built a reactor in the Mideel Islands," Angeal says, considering the tree. "They say the ground is too unstable and there's too many earthquakes, but… if they had…"

Mideel is this world's version of the Pacific islands, right? "All your weird apple trees would've died, probably," Sephiroth muses.

"How dare you call our apples weird, sir," Angeal says, mock offended. "I would have you know, Banora Whites are my hometown's main export!"

"Don't you call them stupid apples or something?"

"Dumb apples," Angeal says with a huff.

"I rest my case," Sephiroth snorts and looks up at the Ginkgo tree. Sunlight is screening through the leaves, like dancing sparkles of gold, and if he was Shen Qingqiu, he'd try his hand at a poem for it just about now. Maybe he could do a bit of meditation here…

And of course that's when there's a sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling somewhere behind them as something large and probably angry comes their way. Damn.

"I guess break time is over," Sephiroth mutters and grabs his sword. "I know there's an Enemy Lure materia - is there an Enemy Repellant one?"

"If I ever find one, I'll let you know," Angeal says, putting his fists up.

And they're back into the fray.

#fanfiction #ff7 #ffvii #svsss #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #angeal hewley

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scrufflesksunnide · 5 months

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Something I've been working on for awhile and finally I can tell you what this au is ABOUT.

Welcome to...

SURVIVOR AND MONK: ECHOS OF TIME!

an AU that tries to follow the canon of rain world in it's own unique way, creating new landscapes, added backgrounds that weren't there in rain world, new characters, and overall headcanons galore!

The AU is heavily inspired by things like Mario and Luigi: Partners in Time and Omori! Character refs and information below!

The premise of the au is about Survivor and Monk being contacted by a familiar white iterator from the void, who sends them on a mission to fix this world before things get messy with the landscapes they stand on shifting from times ahead and before, the memories they gained being wiped from them completely, and everything being set back to the very beginning. Their goal is to close time rifts causing this calamity, with the help of the Echos trapped inside these rifts, not only will they gain power to help the world but also gain memory the player never got to see... Will they be doomed to repeat this loop again due to their own problems? Or will they stop it all in time, before they have to repeat it all over again? They are all stuck here for their flaws, much like the echoes before them... maybe it is possible to break the cycle for once...? Meet the Main Cast!:

"Seth" aka The Survivor

Age: 20 Likes: Collecting pearls, Manny, Happy thoughts, Nature, History Dislikes: Having to give up pearls, Lizards, Bad thoughts, Thunder Storms (how ironic), and forgetting about the good times...

"Trying to find peace and happiness in a world that hurt them, their curiosity leads them into a new adventure. However, they aren't alone this time. With their sibling by their side, nothing will take this duo down!"

"Still full of curiosity, they are a sucker for nature much like their sibling. They are deeply curious about nature and wants to explore the world for what it has to offer. Their thoughts cannot be trusted however, despite it being full of curiosity, it is also full of doubt and bad faith after bring them down and keeping them rather depressed. They are numbed by the cruelty of this world, often not showing their emotions due to feeling static. It makes it hard to understand what's going on with them when they don't show a lot that's going on inside. However, they try their best to see a brighter future. They are quiet for the most part, but isn't scared to take action when necessary." Relationship Chart:

"Manny" aka The Monk

Age: 18 Likes: Gardening, Seth, Lizards, Batflies, Donating! Dislikes: Fire, Violence, Blood, seeing Seth sad, being alone. "Full of sunshine and and optimism. No matter of their naive nature, they set out to save this world with their kindness and their sibling by their side. Flourishing their way through this world with kindness has it's ups and downs however, we'll just have to see how they take it." "Peppy and happy, they try their best to make others joyful as well... to the best of their abilities anyway. They can be naive and foolish, they aren't super smart but they try their hardest... though sometimes they push themselves a little too hard. Due to the incident with Seth, they HATE being separated from him and suffers from separation anxiety. Their separation anxiety makes it hard for the duo to split up when it is needed, creating a struggle for the poor fella." Relationship Chart:

"Harvey"/"Harv" aka The Hunter

Age: 19 Likes: Doing risky shit, Red Lizard meat (sorry Manny), combat, their friends... helping out others in need... oh and uh, jokes Dislikes: staying in one place, being fluffy in the morning (yes they do fluff up fun fact!), being on a time limit, scav tolls, failing the mission. "After living through the scary odds, much to the world's pity, they live weaker than what they once were... but luckily they gained a strange but much needed friend." "Energetic and risk-taking, they make great effort to be danger to the enemies who dare try and disturb the peace. They led their ego and pride get the best of them at times and get carried away with playing the role of "hero" as that's the only thing they feel they have left to their name... "hero". They will willingly take a spear if it meant people made it out alive, they will rush head first into danger to shield those they care for... but in turn get extremely hurt in the progress. They can be impatient and does not want to be stuck in one place for more than 10 minutes, they have a soul that NEEDS heroic action and NOW!" Relationship Chart:

enot (dats me!!) the inventor (hehe see what we did there?) here's my [icture!

im 20 even though some people don't believe that fo[r sum reason (also I am very tired so my typig mayyyyyy be a bit wacky but ill fix it latr... probs) anyway uhhh I liek making cool gadgets, being the prettiest thing you'll ever see, my friendsss, eg, and kissing my babe (sethy!!) (and they is MINE, I will KILL YOU IF YOU DARE TOUCH THEM... just kidding!! there's enough of them (and me!) to go around!) and I like long walks on the shore! what I DONT like. I HAAAAAATE when people do not cooparate with each other and don't stick to the plan! like I swear everytime I'm playing skywars I get so pissed because I get teamed up with kids who dont even know how the game works OR they are SO egostical that they try doing stupid stuff and dont LISTEN to the guy who has actually PLAYED the game and KNOWS what their DOING!!! only reason why I lose so damn much is because of these bad teams holding me back, thats why I do solos most of the time and I do SO GREAT with those and- whats that? OH CRAP SORRY UH UH, I also don't like spiders and dark places, I've had a big fear of it back then and I've gotten over it... I think. anyway! im just gonna copy and paste this and be on my way, see ya later! "I'm stubborn sure but I have a great plan!... at least plans that are silly to others but DO work. I guess my biggest downside is I take too much pride in myself and i'm a bit too loud haha but im working on it!! Im very caring and loving and im cringe but im free!! I maybe a bit unstable... physically I mean PHYSICALLY IM FINE MENTELLY... I think. I do have a feeeeew memory issues (but im pretty sure everyone else does since, yknow, the current situation, hopefully I gain my memories back soon with those echoes!) anyyyway, hope you have fun reading everyone else's bios, see ya soon readers!! -love enot" Relationship Chart:

"Grant" aka The Gourmand

Age: 25 Likes: Mold Slime (Loves it so much that 80% of their body is made OF it!... wait that's probably really unhealthy- uhhh-), taking care of slugpups, crafting handy tools, hugging, and art Dislikes: People hurting their tribe, not eating for a period of time, seeing others sad, letting their craving/urges win. "One of the slugcat tribe's greatest warriors and excellent crafter, only thing holding them back from their truest peak is their huge appetite." "Carefree and always willing to protect those they love most. They be a bit slow but they are a lovable guy all around! They often get hungry due to them consuming a lot of mold slime, needing more food to feed their belly and having a shift in mind if they don't get food right away, they often eat other people's food without realizing it. This becomes a problem when people need to save food, it's a huge struggle for them to control these new found urges and often gets disappointed in themselves for letting those urges win. Despite this, they make up for it by trying to be a good role model and inspiration for people. They aren't the actual leader of the slugcats, however, they do take role as leader when the current leader is dead (unlikely but can happen) or they need to split up for expeditions. Relationship Chart:

"Asher"/"Ashley" The Artificer

Age: 20 Likes: Taking care of slugpups and baby scavs, when people do their job, quiet, listening to music, combat, scav boxing matches that take place every Wednesday night (they like watching them instead of being in them cuz they don't trust themselves with fighting people as they get, rough, really rough.) Dislikes: Loud noises, Seeing slugpups get hurt, leeches, water fuck water FUCK WATER FUCK WATER-, having breathing problems, smoke, being reminded of their mistakes, having to get violent. "A strict but fair ruler to the scavengers, swore to make sure scavs don't dare try and step out of line with slugcats ever again. Despite their rage and violent past, they have calmed down and learned that taking on this role (the role the old ruler barely did right) would be a good change in the slugcat race." "Ash often gets a bit annoyed when people step out of line, but luckily they don't expect people to be perfect, they will NOT give slack to people that step out of line on purpose. They are more mature and parent like when it comes to ruling over the scavs, at first they saw them as freaks, but they grew on them after awhile and treated every single scav as if they were their own, even if they don't show it, they appreciate their hard work. They can be demanding but they would never ask anyone to do something dangerous unless they knew they could handle it. They can be pessimistic, most of the time feeling down due to thoughts, that doesn't make them less of a fighter however. They are a combat warrior when it comes to fighting, just because they got rid of their violent ways to the scavs... doesn't mean they got rid of it for the other creatures like vultures, lizards, and centipedes. Relationship Chart:

"Ruffles"/"WD (Water Dancer)" aka The Rivulet

Age: 18 Likes: Collecting pearls with Seth, Swimming, relaxing and chilling with LTTM, other fishes, pretty lights. Dislikes: Huge waves, being Pressured, being on a deadline, being made fun of, getting startled by people, rain, and the rot. "Being on the run for awhile, they were sent out by chasing wind to deliver a data pearl to any surviving iterators out there. Their anxiety is the key to their speed as they rush towards their destination out of fear alone." "Ruffles gets startled pretty easily, though their reaction is oddly... delayed. They often have trouble controlling their vocal volume when they are not relaxed, often getting shaky and anxious when put on the spot or is the center of attention... but when they are relaxed and calm, they really open up to be a fun loving slugcat! They feel they need to get things done quickly due to the events that happened with trying to GET to shoreline, that and they think people might get disappointed in them if they don't do it quick enough. This results in them getting more anxious and things could easily fall apart if people don't catch up. They can be clumsy but makes up for it by having fast reflexes, they almost drop your birthday cake? Fear not as they will do their DAMNEST to have that birthday cake be perfectly fine! They see LTTM as their best friend, often feeling relaxed and comfortable around her, LTTM is the only time where Ruffles feels safe... other than their friends of course." Relationship Chart:

"Sii07" aka The Spearmaster

Age: 19 Likes: Challenging themselves, having a goal and completing it, drawing/painting, SRS... and warm places. Dislikes: Failing a goal, not having a purpose, being bored, people getting in their way, and vultures. "A message slug created by Seven Red Suns that fulfilled their purpose... but found themselves in an unsatisfying life after their loss. They find new albeit, risky and hurtful adventures to challenge themselves so they can feel they have purpose... or at least try to think they do."

"Sii has a knack for putting themselves in dangerous expeditions, resulting in them getting hurt often... but they feel completely numb to it all. They set too ambitious goals with only satisfaction as their reward. It takes a lot to get them to stop trying to do dangerous expeditions but when they do stop even if for a bit, they can be a chill and almost inspiring! They are a pretty good critic too when it comes to art and combat, even though they can be harsh whenever it's negative, they want people to improve upon their skills... It seems pointless to them to try and teach people things... for now at least. They are highly determined, always preserving no matter what, this can be a good... and bad thing. They can get bored pretty easily so they like to doodle or draw full on pieces of art for however long they feel like it, it's much rarer nowadays... but when you get to see it, it's beautiful." Relationship Chart:

"Sage" aka The Saint

Age: 21 Likes: Uhh... Guiding people to the right path...? They didn't really... fill this out. Dislikes: They don't like meat... that's pretty much all I could gather. "Created by-" what?... would you rather that be private? You sure there are people already kno- Okay, okay. We can skip that part. "They set up to help people in need, and be of a sort of guide for Seth and Manny on their quest to fix this big problem... again." "A pacifistic being whom aims to help others in need of guidance. Although their perfectionist nature holds them back from being happy with their results often times. They do their best to support Seth and Manny in their adventure, testing their new found powers and helping them be better people. They have a tendency to not let people in their personal life... but sometimes, just sometimes, people can gain their trust. They are highly mysterious and it's hard to tell if they mean well or not... but they haven't hurt anyone so far and they seem to want to help people with their calm and on form approach." Relationship Chart:

More info coming soon!! This post will be updated now and then so do check back here every now and then! Comics will be in the making soon as well so keep look out for that!

#rain world #rain world downpour #echos of time au #rain world fanart #rw survivor #rw enot #rw monk #rw gourmand #rw saint #rw spearmaster #rw rivulet #rw artificer #rw hunter #rw au #MORE TO COME SOON!!

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