#and he's always on that damn violin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deafsignifcantother · 3 months

Text

if music be the food of love

♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic) ♥ word count: 2.1k ♥ warnings: reader got hurt by someone they loved before death, reader is shorter than him, bickering, reader loves tea, lonesome reader, alastor invading space ♥ my idea is that reader has a small stereo on her chest that lets out classical music based on her mood. I imagine that it comes from both her chest (softly) and the outside of her manor (loud as fuck). matching pinterest board

Your manor is only visible to the town when the lights are on a tall hill and covered in trees. However, even if all the lights were off, people would at least know it's there.

There are two reasons: the tale and the music.

Tale, a story for the newcomers. They speak of a demon who plays music all day, doomed to play music forever. Oh, the music. The music can be heard from even miles away.

It's refined and dainty, and it reeks of misery. The classical music never seems to repeat itself; it goes on and on and on and on. The demons hear you only through your music. When you cry, the violins and cellos grow with a cruel crescendo. When you sleep, the music is soft, almost quiet. Everyone comes to an understanding, assumption, that if the music were to stop, you would be dead.

The demons who try to step closer to your manor will find themselves experiencing unfathomable sorrow and guilt. The sound of your music is the demonic ability you possess, and it's out of your control. Due to the sadness of your death, you are forced into misery in the afterlife. When you were alive, those you loved and devoted yourself to only broke your heart.

Everybody affected by your music feels that grief.

Alastor doesn't understand why people fear your manor. Your love-related pain doesn't affect him at all.

He starts up the hill, moving both on his feet and through the shadows. On his way to your manor, he focuses on the landscape. The landscape is beautiful; the forest below is so dense that the red sky disappears. Personally, he loves the music. He loves tuning in on you and hearing how you're doing. He sparsely gets to visit, so hearing the song of your heart is always so welcoming.

The worst thing to him is how long the damn walk is.

You're in your house, passing through the dining room, when the lights flicker. The people from the nearby town stutter when the usual sad music suddenly becomes upbeat.

Opening the door, you are greeted by Alastor's traditional smile. You're the one that initiates the hug. He gently wraps his hand around you, only for a short time before he pulls away and establishes his distance.

"Long time no see, my dear." He signs, his claws adding a flare to the simple signs. Truthfully, his sign for "my dear" translates directly to "sweetheart," which he's aware of, just putting faith into you understanding what he means.

"I'll start some tea." You sign, turning immediately to the kitchen.

He smiles at the jazz sneaking its way into your music. The people outside know what it means.

Alastor looks around at the new decor; the place is different every time he enters. It's all the things that you enjoyed when you were alive. That's what is most noticeable about you beyond the aura you possess and how stuck you are to the past; you refuse to acknowledge your situation, which is both a curse and a blessing.

From the kitchen counter, you look at him, seeing him behind you, his staff out of his hands.

He leans a bit forward. "I have news! Have you heard of the new buzz, the new project from the princess of hell?"

A small smile forms. "Charlie?" You remember many years ago when she appeared at your door, in tears due to your involuntary magic, begging you to teach her ASL. You politely declined, though you wrote her a long paper about Deaf Culture (often derailing to rant about your opinion on common debates/crazy events). You've never seen her again, but you're confident she's read it.

You continue, "Her projects are... sweet?"

"Sweet and quite peculiar. She believes that demons can be redeemed. How absurd!" His smile grows, his eyes squinting in interest. He knows you're devoted to being good and staying away from violence. He's here to convince you to join her cause.

"Fascinating," you can't help but show your pure astonishment. "She's on our side."

"Oh, how kind you are!"

The tea is ready. You turn entirely away from Alastor, and he lets you. Your thoughts are apparent; he has spent weeks excited about this conversation. He's absolutely fighting the urge to spill out every argument he has; he wants to mention that if you participate, you'll see each other daily. That hasn't even crossed your mind yet.

You pour the tea and take your time, a little nervous to continue the convo. Alastor's eyes remain on your frame, your casual clothing. The last time he saw you, you were dressed up despite spending your days alone.

You hand a cup to him. Neither sign; you stand still, staring at each other and drinking. Both of you already know what the other will try to say next. Your eyes are deep in thought while he is locked on you. The only reason you are doubting being involved with everything yourself is that you know your aura makes others depressed. It is not very good, isolating. On the opposite stance, Alastor always noticed how your music gets positive whenever he's around. He knows (guesses) that in the hotel, with his presence, your saddening demeanor would be no more.

He moves abruptly, you follow, and he sits on a heavily cushioned couch, dipping deeply, which makes him smile. Your soft smile grows—more piano.

"What are your thoughts?" He prompts with one hand. You take a very long sip of your tea before putting it down.

"I wouldn't make them feel comfortable," you explain. "That's all I think about."

"Ever so pessimistic, my dear. You never know unless you come to visit. What do you say?" He grabs his mic and jokingly reaches it to your face, "A simple visit?"

You put a hand to your temple. "My love," you sign without noticing how his lids droop in comfort, "do you really think I would belong?"

He puts his hand to his chin in faux thought. "Of course I do! The princess will approach you with open arms."

You let out a small, broken groan. You're not going to be winning this little debate. Alastor's going to be able to rebuttal everything you say. Knowing that, why is it still so hard to give in?

You put your hands in your lap before returning them to your temples. His smile grows, and the static radiating off him grows ever so prominent, tickling your skin. You look up at him when you notice the change in the air.

The way he looks at you gives away his intentions. He is standing tall in his usual formal way in his seat, but his eyes are ever so casual. He gazes at you more than anything. His smile is still wide and prideful.

You wiggle a finger at him. "Ah."

He squints.

You continue, "You want to see me more, don't you?"

"Who wouldn't?" He plays off, shrugging. "Your captivating presence has every demon in hell dropping their jaws agape."

"Youuuuuu," you smile mischievously, "you want to see me more."

He continues to wave his hands. "Your accusations are futile, go ahead and fill your pretty head with things such as affection," his shoulders bounce as he chuckles, "dreams about how I miss you."

A breathless laugh leaves your lips. Rather than continue the teasing, you let the positive atmosphere linger in the air. You lift your chin with confidence. "Practically admitting it."

"I know what you want me from me." He signs. You smile at how he interpreted it. You don't bother responding. Instead, you give him a sly smile and lift your cup, taking another long sip; his bottom eyelid is twitching.

The last time he saw you, he signed you many compliments and even danced with you to the rhythm of your music. He let you put your hand on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Admittedly, you only started teasing him because you wanted him to tell you that he missed you. Obviously, he did. You didn't expect him to be so stubborn about it.

When you don't respond, he continues. "When I'm here, your heart sings in happiness."

You nod and sign with one hand. "Very true."

"Well, I find the sound lovely."

"Very appreciated."

You watch as he leans back and crosses his legs, lifting and finishing the teacup. You both spend a few seconds without conversation, just looking at each other. In an attempt to hide how flustered you are starting to look, you lean your head back and gulp down the tea to the point where the cup is hiding your face. But you can only keep it in that position for a short time. After finishing the drink, you place it back down, finding that Alastor is already sitting with his fingers intertwined and waiting for you. His eyes sparkle.

"My dear, I missed you very much." And as quickly as the affection comes, it disappears. "I must give the little lady what she wants. There, are you happy?"

"I missed you too, Alastor. Thank you for coming up again."

Sappy, sappy, sappy. Will you agree to return to the hotel with him now?

He straights his bowtie and stands. "My dear, I'm afraid our time here will be cut short; I have a hotel to show you, don't I?"

You stay seated, just eyeing him. Peer pressure, you sigh and try not to roll your eyes. A simple nose exhaling is enough to show him how you feel.

He leans his head to the side. "Is there anything I can do to convince you?"

You finally stand and meet his eyes. His eyes are gorgeous; you love the way he looks at you. He doesn't take his eyes off you when you step close to him. Your hands reach for his overcoat, and you adjust it fruitlessly, only wanting an excuse to touch him.

You smile. "I can cook you something for your long trip back."

"Our."

"Your."

You both lean in, smiles straining.

He tries again. "Our."

"Biscuits, I assume," you turn your heels and motion for him to follow you. The motion you make is beckoning, and when you flick your wrist, he grabs it and pulls you into him. He lets you go to see your response. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You fall for people too easily. His touch is demanding, yet his face is calm, and with how close he is, all you can do is stare up at him. Your feet stumble a bit to adjust to your new stance. He will fight tooth and nail to get you to follow him back; throughout his days, he always wonders what you're doing and your music might sound like. He'll close his eyes and try to imagine the melody in moments of silence at the hotel.

You can't find yourself stepping back. "I'm perfectly okay with where I am." A lie. "Nobody will bother me if I'm out here."

"And nobody will bother you when you're next to me, get it?" After he signs, both of his hands hold your cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth to try and lighten the mood that's getting a little serious.

You try to hold his wrists and pull his hands down, but he fights against you. He lifts your face so he can look at you head-on. The waist bends his body; he curls himself up to you. Your touch falls to his sleeves and then moves to his biceps, your fingers grazing him gently.

The music is fast-paced, like your heart. It sounds almost angelic, a new ethereal sound surrounding it.

"Okay," you fold but then immediately chew on the inside of your lip.

"Perfect!" He presses his forehead to yours quickly before pulling away. He's taking this win. He turns and eyes the room, motioning. "Packing anything?"

With a small sigh of defeat, you place your hands on your temples again. What would you even need? Like a spoiled child, you realize that if you did need something in particular, Alastor would get it for you. You smiled and shook your head to yourself. "I don't think I need anything at all."

"Spectacular!" Another dramatic sign. "Come along then." The fast twirling of his staff blows air onto you when you start to walk behind him, eyeing how his fingers twist. His head turns as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his head dipping as his smile widens. The static in the air becomes thicker.

You take a deep breath. If you can say 'I told you so' to him, you will be bringing it up until the end of time. He knows that, so it's good that he's confident in himself and his deductions. He'll ensure you won't be leaving and isolating yourself any longer.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #x reader

1K notes · View notes

honey-milk-depresso · 3 months

Note

Hello! May I request Diasomnia boys dealing a very sick S/O? Like they will get sick every month. High fever, vomiting, headaches, blocked nose, sore throat, you name it and they have had that illness before. And they're also very behind on their studies because of this.

I had a friend like that too, and she’s currently in another school but we still talk to each other once in a while. This might be a little bit of my own experience mix in this so hopefully it doesn’t sound weird :”))

Diasomnia looking after a really sick s/o

Malleus Draconia

The smallest of a little sneeze from his precious child of man already makes him panic. Seeing you bed-bound with a runny nose, sore throat and headache, he’s getting an actual heart attack.

How can one be so frail??? Malleus might offered casting long lasting healing spell, or try making an elixir to make you permanently well again that no sickness can touch you no longer. But even you think it’s a bit too much when he elaborates how hard it is to find all the damn ingredients.

But Malleus is insistent. “It’s alright, my dear. I will scour the whole continents to find each ingredient.”

After much convincing from you, he reluctantly agreed to just help make simple, healing potions that can last you for a few days before you need to consume them again from him.

He might also consult Lilia on what he should do to entertain you while your bed-bound, and I swear to the SEVENS that he will bring his whole violin as entertainment while having many other brass instruments playing a whole orchestra of soothing music for you like you’re royalty or something like-

He might’ve also consulted with Silver for help and he told Malleus that you probably only wanted his company. To talk to him while you’re stuck in bed for a while until the potion boils finish so that’s what Malleus do. It’s rather peaceful just sitting there and talking to you quietly. It makes his heart feel at ease and he hopes he makes you feel at peace too. <3

Lilia Vanrouge

He’s experienced in taking care of sick people because he had young Malleus and Silver, so he’s pretty much equip to look after you.

Although Lilia has never quite experienced someone who can REALLY get sick and stay sick for a long time, he’s up for the challenge if it means to care for you. You’re his S/o after all!

Lilia is actually really good! He knows how to make the bed super comfy for you to sleep in, his voice always soothes and calms you down, he always remind you to take your meds and drink lots of water while you’re at it. Maybe he’ll ask Malleus to make you a potion to cure your sickness for a while or do it himself!

Just errr…. Don’t eat his cooking because, well, we all know how ominous it looks. And tastes.

Lilia has the habit of reading bedtime stories to you, mostly because he did that for Silver and Malleus when they were younger and he projects that action into you to comfort and soothe you while you’re sick. After all, you won’t feel better if you’re heart isn’t at ease, either.

When you finally fall asleep, Lilia smiles softly before kissing your forehead, sitting on the chair beside you bed and watch over you. <3

Silver

He panics a little, but the first thing he’ll tell you is to get lots of good rest and sleep.

He also tries to mimic what Lilia would do when he was sick during his younger days: singing you a lullaby, try reading bedtime stories (although he might fall asleep halfway), reminding you to take your meds and drink plenty of water.

Silver may also seek Malleus help in making a potion that could help you recover for a while or even lend one of Lilia’s storybooks to help you.

Would stay around you to be company while you’re bedridden, even if he gets sleepy and tired he’ll never leave your side or stop taking care of you.

Might’ve also tried to cook for you, but he only cooks soup because he doesn’t really know what else he can do. He just hopes it can make you feel better at least.

While you rest in bed, Silver, although succumbing to falling asleep, still holds your hand while you rest as both of you fall into a deep slumber together. <3

Sebek Zigvolt

Panicking beyond belief. How can one be so fragile and sickly?! He can hardly believe it and he doesn’t know what to do when you are bed-bound. The smallest sneeze of you already has him all over you with concern, so with your really sick nature, he’s practically made it a point to just be in your life now. Like he shares with you.

Initially, Sebek might’ve come off a little bit insensitive, saying how you should exercise more or something to build up a better immunity system. However, Lilia taught him otherwise to put you first. He knows the boy cares about you so he’s helping him show care in better ways.

He learns to cook soup, pray to Malleus for help in making a potion for your sickness (which the latter helped obviously), might’ve also pulled off the “I WILL TRAVEL THE WORLD FOR THE RARE POTION INGREDIENTS TO CURE YOU FOR GOOD” thing like Malleus which you have to keep on insisting for him to, I don’t know, not be stupid to get himself killed and he RELUCTANTLY listens to you.

He watches over you despite being tired and despite him not being the most lovey dovey or romantic boyfriend out there, you know he cares about you, maybe much more than you know. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

602 notes · View notes

sepublic · 1 year

Text

Post-Hoot with Dana Terrace!

Dana’s put over 200 hours into games she’s missed since the finale; Octopath Traveler, Little Nightmares, etc. Sarah Nicole-Robles cried harder than she ever did when she said I learned a language I’ll never forget, a whole chapter of my life is over, during the King-ceanera. She said the line once and was suddenly sobbing because of how meta it was.

Rebecca has a ‘sona during the bit with Barcus in the epilogue sequence. Cissy also cried when watching with her family, her kids asked her about it; Sarah was really excited as she watched the finale.

No sequel happening, but we can always hope; Dana would like to do more, but Disney owns the IP and needs to give them permission. Dana knew the prequel line in the finale was ham-fisted as hell but still went with it because she was pissed (she said Fuck to express her rage). Rebecca went back to the Anger phase of grief after watching the finale after realizing what they missed, but Sarah was also in Acceptance because it was hard to regret something that ended so well.

Dana doesn’t cry that much, but TJ’s remix in the soundtrack made her cry. Dana brought back everyone for BBBYYYEEEEEEE, noting this was every character’s last line, and wished Hooty had more lines. Alex improvised a cut line after the Bye with Hooty expressing appreciation for the finale and readiness for his spin-off.

Dana won’t say much in hopes she’ll get to do more for TOH in the future; A Youtube reviewer (shoutout to all, Zachary Ax, Man of a Thousand Thoughts, Rebecca herself), the Third Bill got it right on Hooty, and Dana won’t be more specific about that.

They found out about the shortening during S2; They had an ending in mind that Dana had in mind since development, but it needed too much setup and so they couldn’t pull it off. All of Season 2A was written before knowing the cancellation; Follies at the Coven Day Parade was the first episode fully written knowing the show was shortened, hence the tonal change. The Galdorstones was an arc Dana planned more on, as well as the Coven Heads; Bat Queen; It was a hard situation choosing what to leave out.

There weren’t whole episodes written that had to be trashed; Just one-sentence ideas on a whiteboard never fully outlined or scripted. But Dana is still happy with what came out, because it was pretty damn cool.

Rebecca Rose once saw someone with a King sweatshirt like hers at Disneyland and said hi, but they just side-eyed her and didn’t respond; Despite this, Rebecca hopes they had a happy day and believes they were just having a bad time. Sarah joked about not being so forgiving.

String Bean’s inspiration: Owlbert is in the title of the show, String Bean indeed was there the whole time! The S wasn’t completely intentional at first, but Dana flipped the logo around and figured it out. When making the first episode, the logo wasn’t finalized. They always liked the idea of Luz being connected to snakes, it’s what she brought to school and they liked her reclaiming something she terrorized her classmates with. The Snake-Shifter idea specifically; Zach Marcus just said “Snake-Shifter” as they brainstormed ideas and Dana, being a sucker for lame puns, was sold.

That was indeed Dana being represented as a student in the epilogue! She was Beastkeeping and Oracle; Dana can see the future of the show, and really likes animals. Raine’s palisman was indeed hidden within the violin’s design; Hunter and Dell worked to fix the palismen after Raine broke it trying to stop Belos. The violin is more akin to the staff, anyhow. Dana considered responding to a question about general Caleb, Evelyn, and Flapjack lore, but Sarah insisted she stay silent in case they get to answer it as an actual story later.

Dana liked to think while writing Thanks to Them; No, Evelyn’s spirit isn’t in Flapjack. But to Philip, he saw Flapjack as the culmination of the corruption in his brother Caleb; He saw Flapjack, if it weren’t for YOU. You can see a hint of it in Masha’s story, Evelyn entices Caleb with Flapjack, who was Caleb’s introduction to magic. Evelyn was probably disguised as a human, and trusted Caleb for seeming reasonable and less violent. Perhaps like Dog owners passing each other by and suddenly becoming friends over this.

Evelyn and Caleb’s relationship was sweet, from platonic curiosity to romantic. Eda doesn’t know she’s descended from them, nor does Hunter; And Dana has more to say, but will keep it hidden. Luz will stay the majority of her stay in the isles as she goes to college. Camila bought the shack leading to the human world, which allowed Luz to visit during holidays, weekends, etc.

They never got to explore it, but it could’ve originally been the home of Philip and Caleb, long abandoned; Eda emerges after discovering the portal. In the next thirty years, she fixes up the shack as she builds the Owl House. Dana also advised fans to google Death of the Author, since she’s technically no longer working on the show, and thus gives permission for fans to write their own answers.

Eda became the Owl Lady before Owlbert, due to the curse; They planned to do an episode where Eda learned palismen carving with Dell, and how Eda reclaimed the Owl identity to carve Owlbert. Dana stills has the outline of that episode in her head…

According to Rebecca, Caleb and Philip’s graves were in the basement of the shack, based on this church in New Haven Dana passed by every day on her way to school (Gravesfield is based on some places in Connecticut). However, Dana realized the graves didn’t fit into the story. They also had an ‘original’ Belos design for him taking over animals. Marina Gardner did some amazing Belos designs, and Thanks to Them alluded to it.

The Portal’s eye comes from the Titan’s missing eye!!! Hunter is bisexual, Willow is pansexual, this is how Dana always wrote and imagined them in her mind, but it’s not explicitly stated so technically it’s more headcanon. Dana noted how some people just picked it up. Dana likes to think Amity and Lilith rekindled their student-mentor relationship. Having worked in the library, Amity was interested in Lilith’s knowledge of history. Dana suggested to Zarya(?) from the design team to add notes to Lilith’s museum blueprints. A helicopter passed over and they joked it was Disney trying to stop spoilers.

Cissy only got her lines and didn’t know any other details about the finale, to Dana’s surprise; Dana explained that people not getting a full script is due to the pandemic. Before quarantine, actors would get the full script. They have to rely on Eden Riegel and Dana for context a lot. Bosook Coburn spoiled Luz’s death to Rebecca Rose during the celebration party. They came up with a lot of designs for dying Luz, trying to figure out how they can hollow out her head how much. Dana mentions it’s up to the showrunner to show how much they want to the actors.

Thanks to Sarah, they kept in Luz saying her own SFX during her fight with Eda in O Titan, Where Art Thou; She heard someone do it as part of the mock script and wanted it. When Dana voiced Eda and Luz at the end, Dana was crying. There’s a recording of Season 2B and Season 3 of Dana doing a voice-over of the script to get approved by executives.

Dana clarified everyone would’ve had more of a chance to talk with each other, such as Hunter and Amity; Hunter would’ve talked to Vee, as well as more human realm kids, literally everyone would’ve had a little more time with each other. Dana loves Luz and Hunter’s sibling dynamic. Dana was sorry they couldn’t have Luz and Raine hang out, but they had the Hexsquad storyline. Luz finished high school in the human world, with the renewed motivation that she’ll go back to the isles. Knowing she has a safe space outside of high school made it more bearable, as was the case for Dana growing up.

Cissy brought up Gus’ hair in the epilogue, which she loved; Emmy Cicierga did the design for Gus and Raine. Harpy Lilith was by Emmy; Dana did Emira, Eberwolf, and Skara’s timeskip designs. The name of the Titan is unpronounceable for humans.

Dana can’t say much about the Archivists; The Collector never had a flash-forward design, as they age much more slowly than everyone else. Maybe the Collector got just a tiny bit taller. The idea of the Collector came from creepy dolls, as well as a nightmare; John Bailey Owen had a google folder filled with cool references of creepy dolls with a starry aesthetic, liminal minimalist nightmare-scape. They knew who the Collector was gonna be, what role they’d play, but the vibe still needed to be decided.

Dana confirmed the Collector was always a part of the show before the shortening, and they solidified their placement after the announcement. The Collector has indeed stayed connected with the others, visits occasionally. Dana has seen fan comics on this and teared up.

Hooty doesn’t have to be vacated from the Owl House if he doesn’t want to; When the door isn’t active, Hooty could be present. The new portal can probably fold up, and Hooty is busy as a curator for Hooty’s new museum.

Dana said Raine and Eda’s business is their business; Not all love stories end in marriage. It’s their thing and it doesn’t diminish any love, but they do live in the Owl House together (Raine moved in).

Mattholomule getting a palisman is something Zach Marcus can answer, since he made the character and Dana respects the lore he made. It’s hard to say for Dana if Vee and Masha are dating, since Masha didn’t show up in the finale, but Vee definitely has a crush on them. Again, Dana encourages the Death of the Author approach, if the headcanon makes you happy.

Alador and Odalia got officially divorced after the finale, and the kids happily lived away from her. They might visit her if they have the energy, but also recognize she’s a toxic influence they can cut off at any point. Dana gave a shoutout to Rachel McFarlane’s voice acting, praising her performance for Odalia.

In regards to the tower King was born in, Dana has an answer; It was related to a character we all know, who now may have amnesia.

There was a plan to explore Gus and Willow’s glowing eyes, and do it for other characters; Amity wasn’t going to have that, strong emotions are indeed connected to magic. It was mostly a worldbuilding magic rule they could’ve expanded on, that Dana wishes she did early in the story.

In the boards, Dawn Han(?) did Clouds on the Horizon, and did the scene of Amity and the twins hiding in the factory as their parents talk about the Abomatons, Alador is worried since it seems like a tad much. Alador had T-rex arms in the storyboard, and it reminded Dana of Remy from Ratatouille, so when they got to the scene of them looking into Alador’s lab, Ratador was drawn in his place as a joke. Dana laughed so hard she decided to keep it in, with Dana handwaving it as Alador’s palisman.

According to Dana, a show should be appreciated for as it is; But the other way to enjoy it, under the context it was made, is also important to her; Both ways are valid. It was easier for Sarah to voice depressed Luz since she was also depressed. The writers preferred to put their feelings into the show, VS a more happy-go-lucky approach as others did; It was kind of dark for a bit, especially during quarantine. Sarah felt her own experience validated with Luz’s depression, but she and Dana appreciated the balance of having a happy ending too.

What made the crew hopeful was knowing the characters would always have a happy ending; Luz could continue her studies in full-force, a new family. They KNEW it would end happy. Dana acknowledged how the fandom misinterpreted “I hate the term happy endings,” and Sarah knew about the quincenera when asked during previous Post-Hoots, but couldn’t answer.

Rebecca commissioned 3D-printed Funko Pops of S2A Lilith and S1 Luz, and gave them to the others as gifts; Rebecca didn’t know about Avi’s appearance until two days before the Post-Hoot, otherwise she would’ve had a Funko of Raine made. Dana’s stand for Luz had to be made with painter’s tape (she appreciated it) due to Rebecca running out of the other kind, and planned to place it beside her Peabody award. Elizabeth Grullon, Camila’s VA, had to call her mom in the middle of a session to translate her line about maduros into English.

Cissy clarified this wasn’t intended to be the final Post-Hoot! And the video was ended with a BBBBYYYEEEEE!!!!!

#the owl house #dana terrace #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #boiling isles titan #edalyn clawthorne #eda clawthrone #raine whispers #raeda #palismen #the owl house hunter #willow park #bisexual #pansexual #post Hoot

2K notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 4 months

Text

How Thorin’s Company Acts Around Their Crush

Hope all who celebrate had a wonderful Christmas! Since I’ve gotten some requests for The Hobbit characters as well I thought I would start with my usual beginning! Yes I’m repping ALL of them 😤😂 you can imagine the older members’ as taking place when they were younger or not…depends how you like it 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

Balin

✧ As his feelings for you grow, so too does his care for you. As if by magic he always seems to know where you are and what you need. Being more subtle and witty with his feelings, Balin is not the easiest to decipher in terms of intention but you can be damn sure you know he cares.

✧ Shares stories with you, tales of his ancestors or days as a young dwarf roaming the mountain halls, chuckling warmly at your reactions.

✧ There to catch you whenever you fall, hands gently gripping your waist as he asks if you’re all right.

✧ Tells you how much the others like you, especially if those around you are a bit tough about it. Balin hears and sees a lot more in his position so he is quick to reassure you.

✧ “Let me get one last look at you before I go- that’s all the energy I need.”

✧ Balin loves to hear your voice, so his guilty pleasure is asking you to read to him whenever you get a moment’s peace- please indulge him, he’ll be so relaxed and content!

Dwalin

✧ Acts like he's just going along with your ideas or whims, but in reality you're wrapped around his finger and he'll do anything for you, not to mention go anywhere so he can ensure you're protected. The way he always makes jokes for you and shows off in your presence may make it easier to tell how he feels!

✧ Offers you a drink at any opportunity, bringing you a mug or glass of whatever you prefer most, even if it’s just water.

✧ Playfully spars with you if you’re game, complimenting your form and encouraging you to try more daring moves.

✧ Does anything in his power to make you comfortable and stand up for you. The log you’re sitting on is uncomfortable? He stands right up then and there to carve it down. If he sees an orc get a strike in on you you’ll know who’d getting beheaded next.

✧ Laughs at jokes he wouldn’t normally, like if the others tease him Dwalin will probably smack them or snark back, but if you say it he’ll just laugh and roll his eyes, maybe lightly elbow you.

✧ I’m pretty sure it’s both book and movie canon that this man dwarf plays the violin??? So you know he is going to whip it out to impress you! And maybe it’ll make for an excuse to dance and sing together too!

Thorin

✧ Thorin is the sort to orchestrate his entire romance to a T, so you will not be able to decipher his intentions until the exact moment he plans to tell you, and that will take some time getting to know and trust you.

✧ Always moves you behind him when danger strikes, readying himself in a moment to stand in and defend you. If you've been separated, you're the first person he seeks to check on.

✧ “Give me your hand.” Anytime the terrain is rough or you could fall, Thorin takes your hand in his to gently but firmly guide you over/across it.

✧ It’s hard sometimes to defer to others especially with all the pressure of being king, but Thorin is intentionally very considerate with you, asking for your input and following your counsel.

✧ Drapes his coat over your shoulders if he sees you looking cold, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary…

✧ Rather than tell his story, Thorin prefers to ask yours- he wants to know where you came from and why you care about the things you do. If nothing else he craves a feeling of understanding passing between you two, a deeper relation and connection. He’s not afraid to ask deep questions like if what legacy would you most like to leave behind or the most important character trait in your eyes because his partner needs to share his values and be comfortable with deep discussions.

Oin

✧ His biggest tell is the way he dials up the gentleman act for you and only you, behaving so much more politely and attentively.

✧ Sometimes people don’t take the time to have conversations with him due to his hearing difficulties, so he makes sure to be extremely attentive and show his appreciation whenever you talk to him. Expressive listening and reactions are his specialty!

✧ Having skills as a healer, Oin does anything in his area of expertise to ease your travels, whether it’s pain relief, soothing oils for your muscles, steam treatments for your breathing, etc.

✧ He knows a lot of games, too, so if you’d like Oin would love to sit down and teach you some. If you ever look bored or down he will approach you with cards or dice in hand asking if you’d like to while away some time or thoughts.

✧ In turn, any hobby you have is something he’d be eager to learn about. You like to see? Show him how! You paint? Well, what do you make your paints out of? He wants to find a way to support your joys.

✧ Does silly things behind the others’ backs when only you can see, making fun of them or just shaking his head no if they give bad advice. Acts completely innocent even if they catch you laughing.

Gloin

✧ The ability to speak one's intent and feelings clearly, perhaps even with a bit of poetry, definitely runs in his family 😌 He will pay you the best compliments you've ever heard, leaving you to wonder what wheels are turning in his mind as he speaks them.

✧ Unafraid of telling you how nice your outfit looks on you whether it’s the color or the fit or, as is most likely, both! Tells you, in fact, that you’re more beautiful than any gem he’s ever seen.

✧ Teaches you how to play all his favorite tavern games! Subsequently always asks for you to be his partner at them.

✧ “Oh, you’ve got a little…” Extending a hand, he gently removes a small leaf from your hair, gently brushing it back into place.

✧ Won’t give the others the time of day if you’re talking to him. “Can’t you see I’m talking to them and not you?”

✧ Becomes your designated lifter of heavy objects and opener of difficult things, flexing as he tells you that pretty much everyone comes to him for it (even if it isn’t true) 😌

Bifur

✧ Absolutely becomes a showoff whenever he sees you, especially when he's sparring. You're like an energy of your own, bringing him new vigor and passion to overtake his enemy before he flashes you a smile. It's fairly obvious what he's doing, but you can't deny its effectiveness.

✧ Gets you familiar with his signs so he can spill the tea about the others when they aren’t looking 👀

✧ Elbows you lightly to get your attention, then waves at you or wiggles his eyebrows teasingly when you peer at him.

✧ Strings together some beads he has on hand along with some pretty rocks that he found to make you a little necklace or bracelet! Looks so proud as he holds it up for you too 🥺

✧ Gives it his all in every fight where you’re in harm’s way too because it’s not just about him making it out anymore.

✧ Sharpens your weapons for you without you even having to ask 😌

Bofur

✧ Bofur is incredibly sweet around the one who draws his attention, always smiling when you look his way and address him and always laughing at your jokes. His actions could be seen as just friendly but he's incredibly generous and giving around you which is a bit of a tell.

✧ Starts breaking touch barriers! Just with little things like resting a hand on your shoulder as he teases you or expresses sympathy, offering a helping hand to stand back up, or taking your hand or wrist to look at your jewelry.

✧ Yours is the first hand he reaches for when Bofur starts up a song and dance. He holds you so gently but twirls you so eagerly, a smile on his face for you the whole time!

✧ Hype man. Believes in you like it’s a given- of course you look amazing, go on, you can do it, don’t be scared, they’ll love it. In his words, “Don’t dull that great shine you’ve got.”

✧ Sharing little running jokes is his favorite. Whether you two were the only ones to catch another company member say something ridiculous or Bofur was the one you shared a certain story or fact with, he loves those little points of connection and will never let them die.

✧ Loves to take care of you, so when you’re seated together at meals he’ll load your plate and pour your drink for you- you won’t have to do a single thing but enjoy your time!

Bombur

✧ Such a quiet sweetheart! You may not be able to tell he likes you because he's so subtle with his little gifts and waves sent your way, but he's always asking about you and trying to show he cares.

✧ Lets you sneak tastes of whatever he’s making even though he’d usually smack their hand away 🥰 Also he always serves you first at the end of the day and gives you the best bit of whatever he's made! And if you're a lady, he always says “ladies first” with the sweetest smile ☺️

✧ The absolute best if you get anxiety, like he will learn exactly what is best to do for you whether it’s breathing, words, serving as a living weighted blanket for you, a phrase or sensory experience, you name it! He just wants to see you smile again 🥺

✧ Quietly leaves you flowers by your bedroll when you aren’t around, just little surprises to bring a smile to your face at day’s end.

✧ Bombur has the most hilarious theories about how he thinks he can predict the weather, so rather than have you ask Gandalf he’ll explain them all in depth until you’ve got stitches in your sides from laughing.

✧ If you break touch barriers, expect the most shocked, happy :o face from him followed by a smile that slowly grows more and more lovestruck.

Dori

✧ Another case of 'could be interpreted as friendly', Dori practically fawns over you to make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need, but because he's a big brother it can come across like his natural sibling instinct.

✧ Anyone who bothers you gets the biggest scolding of their life- watch out!

✧ Making tea is his love/connection language. He'll offer to make you a cuppa if you're cold, stressed, need some energy, you name it and he'll do it for you!

✧ Practically shushes everyone to get your opinion when a ruckus emerges over some company decision or another, making some creative excuse why you have sway over it.

✧ Dori is definitely the sort to always check in and make sure you ate and got a drink too, always getting certain you’re keeping up your strength and care for yourself.

✧ Invites you to take walks with him when he wants fresh air and time away from his brothers, just the two of you enjoying nature and some one-on-one chatting and laughter.

Nori

✧ Shameless flirt! You'll know by the way his eyes travel up and down, by the way he smiles and approaches you, by his complete and utter lack of fear in complimenting and teasing you.

✧ Probably hits you with a pickup line as one of your first interactions, seeing you and immediately stepping in with the 'what's someone like you doing in a place like this'.

✧ Naturally he always volunteers to pair up with you on watches or lookout duty…just to make sure you’re safe, you know!

✧ Tells maybe, just possibly, exaggerated stories of his feats of heroism…or just gambling, whichever.

✧ One hundred percent the one who tries the old ‘yawn and put your arm around them’ trick one night by the fire or on watch.

✧ If his exploration leads him somewhere interesting you’re the first one he’ll be pulling over to check it out with him, pride written all over his face at your amazed reaction!

Ori

✧ He's so shy and polite around you that you can't help but wonder if his flustered state and smiles are connected to you. He also gets clumsier, suddenly walking into things and dropping them. What can be said, you just have an effect on him 😉

✧ Always points out animals he sees on your travels because he knows you like looking at them. Will sketch you pictures of your favorites so you can carry them with you!

✧ “Ooh, ooh! Sit with me!” *proceeds to not know what to say or do with himself once you get there*

✧ Knits for you, whether you request a scarf or gloves or a hat Ori will make it for you. “Here. This’ll keep you nice and warm,” he tells you as he passes it over, smiling sweetly as your hands brush.

✧ Tries to replicate anyone else’s feats. Fili threw a knife and hit a bullseye? Well watch this. Bifur balanced three bowls on his head? Care to see Ori do four? And if he doesn’t, please don’t laugh too much!

✧ Asks your favorite everything, like what flower you like the best, what meal you enjoy most, what’s your favorite color. Your favorite flower will forever make Ori think of you, and in fact it becomes his muse. He dedicated two whole pages to pressing and sketching them, one for him to keep and one for you!

Fili

✧ Epitome of 'if he teases you, he likes you'. Always shooting you jokes and smoothly grabbing your attention to show you things. Fili just gets a twinkle in his eye around you and his behavior clues you in.

✧ Teaches you the best way to throw knives, standing behind you to help you get the best angle 😏 asks if you’d like to give a name to the one you do the best with!

✧ Such a great listener. Goes full-on chin in hand just watching your animation intently, nodding and smiling as you speak.

✧ Struggle with something in Fili’s sight and you’ll never lift a finger at it again. He swoops right in to help you, always reassuring you it’s no big deal at all.

✧ Opens his arms immediately if you’re stressed or grieving, offering a warm, comforting embrace. He gives amazing hugs, too, a hand sliding soothingly up and down your back as he pulls you in.

✧ Trips and falls in front of you, but saves it by saying he lost his footing because you were so stunning 💁🏻‍♀️

Kili

✧ If he teases you he likes you part two. He also shamelessly flirts by winking at you and doing anything in his power to hear you laugh, so you'll be able to see what's up pretty quickly.

✧ He has a habit of taking things to see if you notice, just small things like if you leave your comb sitting out or lay down your weapon to go talk to someone, he'll snatch it up and hold onto it to see how long it takes! "Just keeping it warm for you ;)"

✧ Takes it upon himself to teach you archery or help you practice, making lots of corrections to your stance, especially with guiding hands on your hips 👀

✧ One night Kili has a coin perched on his hand. “Heads or tails?” You call your guess, and as luck you call it correctly. “Well, that means you get to sit with me tonight,” Kili replies with a wink.

✧ If you don’t mind it, he’ll probably end up giving you some sort of nickname, whether it’s based on some sort of inside joke or just something you like or remind him of.

✧ Conversations he’s involved in quickly involve you, too, as Kili can find a reason to think of you amidst even the most mundane topics.

Bilbo

✧ He isn't flustered around you, but he behaves with a certain awkward consternation that you wonder at. If you have a tougher time reading others like me, you might think he's just plain studying you, confused even, but in truth he is hyperfocusing on every little part of your interactions!

✧ The type to always stick by you, making sure he's the one seated next to you at mealtimes and placed next to you at the campfire.

✧ “Perhaps we ought to hold hands? Just to keep together. After all, it’s quite crowded out here.”

✧ Being introverted as he is, a big sign of Bilbo’s care for you is the way he approaches your time together- even at the end of the day he will still come to you, making it clear time together with you recharges. It equates to ‘me time’, which is big for him.

✧ Asks a lot of questions about your home, the cultures you come from and languages you speak. Bookish as he is, Bilbo will undertake learning your other language(s) and trying to bring pieces of your home right to you!

✧ “So, have you ever… you know, thought about settling down someday? After all this is over.”

558 notes · View notes

rainybubbles · 1 year

Text

How do you accidentally confess to COD men ?

Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Gaz, König, Alex, Price

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written)

S O A P :

-"I can't lose you, Soap. Shit, you're important to me," you say while crying.

-"...I'm flattered, but can you focus on fixing my leg first?" he says.

-You blinked awkwardly.

-Let's start over and try to understand this, shall we?

-Well, you were a nurse working on a military base.

-When all the doctors asked you to wake up at 3 AM, you knew something had happened. You ran to the infirmary and saw Soap.

-He was heavily injured.

-Your heart skipped a beat.

-You and Soap had known each other since his enlistment.

- You were just an apprentice nurse, and he was a cadet. He always burnt something, and you were there to look after him, even when he accidentally burnt the ass of his sergeant.

-You had a crush on him since that time, but you decided a long time ago not to act on it.

- Soap was clearly not interested in you, and he had gone out with a lot of people.

-You can definitely say you're not his type at all, and you like your bond the way it is.

-But now, seeing him like this, it was different. Your heart was overwhelmed, and your mouth spoke before you could filter what you said.

-"I can't lose you, Soap. Shit, you're important to me," you say while crying.

-"...I'm flattered, but can you focus on fixing my leg first?" he says.

-You blinked awkwardly.

-"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not ethical at all. You need help, and I'm talking nonsense."

-You helped the doctors and quickly went outside when you finished, in order to think about what had just happened.

-"Shit, it was so awkward. I really thought we were in a movie or something," you said, angry at yourself.

-"Well, honestly, it was fun to see you like that. I mean, it could have been the climax of a movie if Ghost had started to play the violin, and a slow-mo started on your face," a voice joked.

-You turned around and saw Soap.

-"You're supposed to lay down. You can't walk."

-"What can I say? Seeing you make miracles," he says with a smirk.

-You sighed and walked towards him, offering your arms to lead him to a bed. He smiled.

-"I'm sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have said that," you said.

-"But you mean it?"

-"That's not the point. It was not the moment, and I know the answer. It was just cringe."

-"...damn, loving me is cringe?" Soap said teasing you.

-"That's- you know that's not what I mean."

-"Yes, I know. I feel the same, by the way."

-"But you..."

-"It's been three months, I realize. I know it's longer for you."

-"You noticed," you realized, all these years thinking you were good at hiding it were in fact obvious to him.

-"Yes, but you decided not to tell anything, so I never acted on it. But I...I feel the same now, and you almost confessed, so can you give me a chance?"

-"You mean when you can take me on a date and not bleed to death?" you said, looking at his injuries.

-"Yes," he chuckled.

-"Okay," you whispered, scared that it was a dream.

-"Okay," he repeated with a smile.

G H O S T :

-"WHAT DO I DO NOW ?!" you screamed and looked at your friend.

-"Just...explain to him."

-"Oh yeah and how do you explain why I send him a fucking eggplant emoji at 4 AM without anything ?" you screamed panicked

-"Tell him the truth." your friend casually says.

-"He won't believe me. Like 'hey I sent you this emoji not because I want to fuck you, but because my brother sent me a lot of memes with eggplant so every night we sent this emoji to each other laughing. And I made a mistake and sent this to you, not him. Nobody does that. He won't believe me." you sigh."Oh fuck, he rode the text."

-"Well...he's your crush no ? I mean you talk about him often so if anything happens it could be good."

-"Yes he is, but I don't want to confess, not now. Fuck, I only met him like three times and only thanks to Soap. We're just acquaintance. I only have his number because I'm Soap's emergency contact."

-"And now he thinks you want to fuck him." your friends resumes

-"Thanks for your help." you say sarcastically."Shit he's writing, what would he say ?"

-"Well I bet on a peach emoji."

-You looked at your friend and showed them your middle finger.

-"What if I make things awkward and-"

-"You are always awkward."your friend interrupts you.

-"...thanks for your support." you said ironically.

-"I mean the worst is that he says no and when you'll meet again the only thing he remembers will be this fucking emoji. That's fine."your friend says.

-"No. I don't want to be the eggplant emoji in his mind."

-"It's too late."

-A ring interrupted your conversation.

-"It's him." you said looking at your notification.

-"And ?"

-"He sent a comma."

-"A comma?" your friend asks lost

-"Yes."

-"what does it mean ?"

-"I DON'T KNOW ! Does it mean he stops to breathe, or I should breathe or-"

-"Or he made a mistake and typed wrong."

-"No, he's good with his hands."

-"I don't want to know how you know that." your friend says looking at you

-"...I wasn't implying anything weird. He's a fucking military." you answered.

-"Ok. So what do you do ?"

-"I could send a comma too ?"

-"Yay revise your punctuations with Y/N and Ghost." your friend says ironically.

-"I...oh fuck, he sent another text."

-"And ?" your friend asks

-"Does the eggplant be used to convey a desire to meet me or is it some weird shit like Soap does usually,"you read out loud his text

-"he texts like a grandpa." your friend comments

-"Fuck you." you say.

-"Calm down, I'm just saying the truth. You should answer it's because you want him."

-"No way, I told you we're acquaintances. I have a crush yes, but we don't know each other well and I-"

-Ting.

-Another text from him.

-"Because it's okay in both cases." he texted you.

-"Oh fuck." you say with your eyes widen.

-"You can say that again !" your friend laughs.

A L E J A N D R O :

-Being a soldier means living in a community. And even if sometimes you're lucky and have your own little room, it's obviously not a hotel.

-So when Alejandro was doing a patrol to check everyone was asleep, he didn't expect to overhear you.

- But it was normal, the walls were thin and he could hear Rudy's snore from here.

-So yes, he heard you talking in your sleep.

-Except it was a fever dream you were having, and it was his name you were whispering.

-He froze.

-He didn't want to intrude, so he stepped back, but it was too late.

- He heard you clearly because of those thin walls.

-The next morning, when all his soldiers were eating together and you were present he couldn't stop looking at you. He didn't know what to do.

-He was not a moron, and he didn't want to confront you about that, but keeping this silent was also horrible.

-"Everything is good, Ale?" Rudy asks.

-"...I overheard something."

-"Let me guess, two soldiers making out? It's like the fourth time this week. Are they rabbits or what?" Rudy sighs at the new cadets.

-"No, it was not two soldiers," Alejandro answers.

-"Oh." Rudy realizes, "oh. Well...it's also common to do it solo. Why are you making this a big deal?"

-"Because they say my name."

-Rudy chokes on his bread and starts laughing.

-"Why do you find this funny?" Alejandro whispers angrily.

-"Because you seem all flustered. You're usually a smooth talker, but you seem so shy about it. It's not the first time a soldier has a crush on you, Alejandro."

-"I know, but it's different."

-"And why is it different?"

-"It's them."

-Rudy smirks.

-"I see."

-"But I can't say I overheard them, but I want to tell them I feel the same. How do I do this when all I could think when I see them is this memory?"

-"Be honest, you don't know how to lie. You're an honest man, Alejandro."

-"You're right, I have to tell them," Alejandro says. He's brave, he can do that.

-"They're coming, good luck," Rudy says and winks.

-You sit at your usual place, greeting everyone, and look at Alejandro.

-"Is everything okay?" you ask him when you notice his expression.

-"I overheard you," he says blankly out of nowhere.

"...can you be more clear, because I have no idea what you're talking about?" you say lost.

-"Last night, I was checking if everyone was asleep and I overheard you saying my name in a feverish dream."

-You raise your eyebrows and smirk.

-"Is that so?"

-He notices the smirk.

-"Why are you smirking?"

-"Because I was on cleaning duty this night; it's Mina who was in my room."

-"Oh."

-"Yes. I guess you have to talk to her," you say.

-"You're right. Sorry, I didn't know."

-"That's okay, but if I may ask, what were you planning to do after telling me this?" you tease him.

He notices your playful tone and smirks back.

-"That you don't need to dream, you can have me in real life."

-"Smooth, really smooth, Alejandro."

He smiles.

-"So it's a yes?"

-"Yes, but you still have to talk to Mina. I wasn't joking; it was her in my room last night."

G A Z :

-It was a night mission.

-You were waiting with the 141 for the order to go.

-It's been hours since you were waiting, and you knew after this mission you probably couldn't see the 141 again.

-Because you were in a different unit, and your collaboration was only for this mission.

-So you knew it was probably the moment to shoot your shot with Gaz.

-You inhale and go to his figure lying in the dark.

- "Gaz, I know we get along with each other. I can't count how many nights we spent just talking to each other on the base or even how many times we laugh together.I...I'm interested in you in more of a friend way. I know it's horrible to say that now, but afterward, it will be too late. So yeah." You say.

-Silence.

-You only hear silence as the figure doesn't move.

-You feel your heart aching.

-Shit, is he rejecting you in silence without saying anything?

-You look at the ground.

-"I think you should activate your vision nocturne, soldier. Gaz is at your right."

-Shit.

-Shit, shit, shit.

- You open your eyes wide.

-You...you just confessed to Price thinking it was fucking Gaz.

-"Shit, I'm so so so sorry. I didn't mean that obviously. I-"

-"Calm down, soldier. And go talk to him. We still have time here, but look at who you're talking to." Price teases you.

-You nod and walk towards Gaz ashamed.

- "Are you okay?" Gaz asks.

-"I just made the worst mistake of my life."

-"What did you say? Did you say to Price he had a nice ass or what?" Gaz jokes to light up the mood.

- You stay silent.

-Gaz opens his mouth. "No, you-"

-"It wasn't his ass. But yeah, I basically confessed to him, because I mistook him for someone else. ?Because obviously in the dark without night vision you can't see anything."

-Gaz laughs.

-"Stop laughing, it's horrible. I'm the worst, he probably will report me."

-"No, he knew it wasn't for him, didn't he ?"

- "Yes, but it...I'm feeling so ashamed."

-"With who do you think mistake him for?" Gaz asks.

-"I don't answer that question. I have made enough confessions for today."

-"Come on, tell me."

-"Nope."

-"Let me guess then."

-"We're only five here, I don't want to let you guess."

-"Soap?"

-"Gaz, I said no."

-"Because if it's him, I don't think he-"

-"You. It was you." You say to shut him up. "Happy, now?"

-He stays silent. You look at him.

-"Yes," he says, smiling. "Even though I'm jealous that Price got the whole speech, it felt like I'm only having the crumbs." He teases you.

-"Shut up," you smile.

-"But I'm happy, I feel the same."

-"Good, because I have enough rejection for today."

-"Ohhhh, Price's rejection is not a good experience?" He jokes.

-"I could never again look at him in the eyes," you say.

K Ö N I G :

-"I thought you were just getting to know him," Soap says.

-"Yes. And that's why I was doing."

-"So could you explain how König ended up with his vest burnt if you were just talking ?" Gaz says skeptical.

-"I...well I was lighting the vanilla candle and he was here, with his eyes and I-"

-"You were checking him out and didn't pay attention to the matchstick, isn't it ?" Soap asks.

-"I was absorbed by his eyes ! They're like so beautiful and he was so close, I-"

-"You burnt his vest." Gaz says.

-"Thanks for the reminder, Gaz. I know now my chances are ruined with him. Shit. The worst is that I can't tell him why I accidentally burnt his vest, so now he thinks I hate him."

-"Well you could find an excuse." Soap says.

-"What excuse could explain a burnt vest, Mr. explosion ?" you asked.

-"You wanted to test if his vest was fireproof." Soap tried

-"..." you said.

-"..." Gaz said.

-Soap sighed.

-"Ok it's not a good one. But I'm trying to help, okay ?"

-"I have to tell him the truth. I don't want him to think I hate him. He's so gentle with us."

-"He's here. Go !" Gaz said as he pushed you.

-You opened your eyes wide. You didn't expect you would have to do that so soon.

-You walked anxiously towards him.

-When he saw you, he stepped back a little.

-It hurt you, but it was fair after the incident.

-"Hey, König, I- I wanted to explain what happened."

-He looked at you and just nodded, waiting for your explanation.

-"In fact I burnt your vest because I was admiring your eyes.I was gazing at you. And I didn't concentrate at all on the candle and I let the matchstick fall. I'm sorry."

-He opened his mouth. He didn't know what to say.

-"I- you were gazing at me ?"

-"Yes, I find you beautiful. But it's not an excuse for what happened. I should have paid more attention to the candle" you said honestly.

-"Thanks for the compliment and the apology"

-"I hope that you don't have any grudges, or you don't think I hate you. I wanted to make it clear."

-"Oh no, well, I know it was an accident. You seem..." he stopped himself to find the right word to described how much you were screaming and scared "terrified ?"

-"Yes." you confirmed.

-"So I knew it was not intentional, but I didn't understand why. But now I know."

-"Cool, so we're okay ?" you asked.

-"You don't want to know ?"

-"Know what ?"

-"If I find you beautiful too ? If I'm gazing at you sometimes ?"

-"Oh, no. I mean I didn't expect anything, so don't feel pressured or anything and-"

-"Because I do." he interrupts you.

-"Oh."

-"Yes."

-"So if I ask you on a date ?"

-"Yes."

-"Cool, cool, cool," you said anxiously but happy

-"Tonight ?" he asked.

-"YES ! I mean, yes of course."

-He smiled under his mask and left. You walked back to Soap and Gaz.

-"So ?" Gaz asked.

-"I have a date."

-"WHAT ?" Gaz said.

-" WHY DID Y/N HAVE A DATE WHEN THEY PUT HIM ON A FIRE AND I CAN'T EVEN HAVE ONE ?!" Soap whined

-You laughed. You didn't know why, but you definitely knew you were lucky he said yes.

A L E X :

-You were a barista at a coffee shop. You were taking Alex's order as usual, since he was a regular when your colleague interrupted you.

-"I prepared the order of the regular hottie you were talking about."

-You looked up at Alex.

-You looked at your colleague.

-He opened his eyes wide.

-"Oh shit" your colleague said.

-"I'm sorry Alex." You said, "This one is on the house and the next time my colleague will serve you. Sorry again." You gave him his coffee and left in the backs now not only your chances were ruined, but you could be possibly fired.

-Shit, it was unprofessional to talk with your colleagues about your crushes on some clients.

-But this was worst because the said client knew that now.

-He knew he was the hottie.

-"Hey", your colleague said after few minutes "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

-"That's okay you couldn't guess he was here. In fact you could because it was his order, but yeah..."

-"But I'm happy."

-"Happy ?" you said a little angry by his remarks now.

-"He let you that." he said giving you a paper.

-"What..." you took the paper and saw a number :"glad to be called a hottie by a hottie, call me."

-"oh wow"

-"It's like a romantic movie !"

-"Absolutely not."

-"YESSSSSSSS" your colleague teased you.

-"I'm just glad to not be fired right now."

P R I C E :

-You were an interpreter. During a long, boring brief, you were chatting with Gaz.

-"Nikolai, Lasswell, Price. Kiss, marry, kill," he says.

-"Lasswell is married, Gaz." you answer.

-"Then Ghost."

-"I kill Nikolai."

-"You dare to kill him!" Gaz says shocked.

-"I mean, I like him. He's a good guy, but I don't know him well. So yes, kill him, kiss Ghost, and marry Price."

-"Your judgment is so biased," Gaz says laughing.

-"Biased?"

-"You only marry Price because you like him."

-"Yeah, that's the point of the game. It's based on preferences, Gaz," you say.

-He smiles.

-"You don't deny what I say."

-"It's because that's obvious, I have a thing for him. Plus, everybody knows Price is like the perfect husband material."

-"Hmm, thanks for your comment," a voice says.

-You and Gaz look at each other.

-The whole room is staring at you.

-Lasswell points the microphone at your right, which is still on.

-"Fuck," you say and your voice echoes throughout the room.

-"Sorry about that," Gaz says, and he switches off the microphone.

-"We are so dead," Gaz says.

-"I am so dead, you mean. I'm surprised if they don't replace me with another interpreter at the end of the day."

-The meeting ends, but as Gaz and you are leaving, you hear Price calling you.

-You hesitate but walk towards him.

-"You know what I'm about to say."

-"Yes, Sir, it was inappropriate, and we should have paid attention to the brief. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. As you can guess, my goal was not to let this slip," you answer.

-Price nods.

-"Good. You can leave."

-You leave the room.

-You thought it was the end, Price clearly rejects you.

-Yet a few weeks later, when the mission ended, Price approached you.

-You were sitting at the bar with the 141 celebrating the success.

-"So you're not working with us anymore," he said.

-"Yeah, that's the end of my mission." You answered, smiling.

-"So it's not inappropriate if I ask you on a date?"

-"A date? Wait, you-"

-"I keep my work and personal life separated."

-"Shit, so if you didn't say anything, it was because we were colleagues."

-"And because it was fun to see you defeated," he chuckles.

-"You're mean." You laugh. "But that's a yes."

If you want more my Call of Duty masterlist : here

My masterlist : here

#cod x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alex keller x reader #alex x reader #könig x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader

2K notes · View notes

angelshimaa · 4 months

Text

@sweeteaas :: hi love, i'd like to request a fluffy poly!kiribaku baking christmas cookies with reader. tysm and i love your works as always hehe <3 a/n :: hi my love !! i apologise for the untimely manner i'm posting this, but i hope it makes you happy :) thank you sm for entering ! cw :: gn!reader, mentions of food (they're baking)

event (closed).

the heat of a preheating oven is enough to make the kitchen toasty, perfect for a baking session while hiding away from the cold that lay outside. everyone was doing their part— katsuki worked on the baking of the actual cookies and you worked on making the icing, with kirishima reading out the steps of the recipe for you both to follow.

“can anyone get me some sugar, please?” you call out, waiting for one of them to hand it to you whenever they could. as you wait, you feel kirishima step closer to you and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“there you go, baby. some sugar for ya,” his sharp teeth flash in a proud grin, and you can't help beaming at your boyfriend, warmth at his sweetness settling into you. “d’you need any more?”

a scoff sounds from the blond sieving the flour. “always so damn cheesy, ei.” you watch the little smile grow onto his face— he can feign distain as much as he wants, but that smile of his erases any form of annoyance he attempts to display.

“looks like i got some for you too, katsuki.” with that, kirishima steps towards to kiss katsuki's cheek too. like it's second nature to him, the blond fakes a grimace, wiping at his freshly kissed cheek.

eijirou takes it in his stride, making sure to plaster more kisses onto his boyfriend’s skin. “keep wiping them away, baby, i’ll keep kissing.” you laugh when katsuki threatens to blow kirishima’s face up, hand barely pushing his face away before setting off light sparks that kirishima easily defects with his quirk. “no escaping, kats!”

“y/n, get this idiot off me!” katsuki exclaims while he looks at you out of the corner of his eye. his cheeks are coloured with a light tinge of pink and it's hard to miss the gorgeous smile tugging at his lips against his will. it matches with kirishima’s, which shines in between kisses, and you realise they both match with yours.

you grin, abandoning your mixture and squeezing behind your boyfriends to end up on the other side of bakugou. “y’know, katsuki, eijirou’s got the right idea.” it's your turn to kiss bakugou's other cheek, smiling against his skin before giving him another. “it wouldn't be nice of me if i didn't give you some sugar too.”

it doesn't take long for him to surrender to your and eijirou's tag-teaming and he rolls his eyes when the two of you have decidedly had enough. the looks you and kirishima share have the same sparkle in them, and katsuki can't help but wonder how on earth he managed to get the both of you to adore him the way you do.

“back to work, idiots! these cookies aren't gonna bake themselves.” as commanded, you make your way back to where you were, picking up your whisk to keep mixing the wet ingredients together.

“aye aye, captain!” eijirou grins. “what else can i do, captain bakugou?”

“step out of my kitchen, there's no way your clumsy ass can squeeze in here for long.”

you giggle at the little pout forming on eijirou's face at katsuki's deadpan. like it or not, he was right— the kitchen was a bit too small for three, and there was no point if eijirou just couldn't be trusted in the kitchen and could stand at the entrance of it.

“you won't be able to use that as an excuse for long, katsuki. wait ‘till we get a bigger kitchen.”

you note the tone and implication of eijirou's words, and how easily they roll off the tongue— he makes a space in the future, a space with your and katsuki's names on it. it seems katsuki notes it too, with the way his eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise.

“a bigger kitchen, hm?” you smile at kirishima, feeling your heartstrings being played like a violin by the softness of those red eyes. that specific colour had a hold on you when it held tenderness, bringing you closer to the feeling of love whenever you glanced at the both of them.

“yeah, pretty— more space for me to give you both sugar whenever you want it,” kirishima winks and you don't miss the playful eyeroll katsuki brings to the table. “who knows, maybe you both can teach me how to cook—”

katsuki scoffs. “you can't even crack eggs properly, ei. learn to walk before you try to run.”

“you’ll teach me that too, kats. we have time.”

matching smiles adorn your faces— kirishima’s right, you have time. enough time to teach your ‘oaf’ (katsuki's words) how to separate yolks from whites, enough time to think of the messes that will stain the kitchen— your kitchen— and the bonding over tidying up every mess.

for now, it was time to finally finish making these cookies. with light smiles and short gazes that hold the promise of tomorrow, you find the process to be as warm as how the cookies come out, and worth every second.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

#𝅄 ۟ ✧ — angel's gift event ·˚#kiribaku x reader #kiribaku fluff #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakukiri x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha x reader #mha x you #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #poly!kiribaku #mha kirishima #mha bakugou

320 notes · View notes

raccoonspooky · 1 year

Text

If the slashers had dating profiles:

Slashers included: Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, All 3 Sinclair brothers, Bubba Sawyer. Micheal Meyers, Billy Lenz, Leslie Vernon

X Reader format. Gender neutral. Slight nsfw

Jason Voorhees:

The profile has several burry pictures of trees and what you think is some kind of shambly looking cabin. There’s picture of a bee on a weirdly gnarled looking hand with an offputting blueish green color to his skin. You figure that it must be the lighting and there’s nothing to be alarmed with. His profile description is wordless save for a bunch of emojis, trees and flowers and a campfire.

His height is listed as 7’0 so… you swipe right immediately.

Brahms Heelshire:

Theres several pictures of a dapper little doll doing things. Sitting in a chair, playing with blocks… You swipe through them intrigued by the strange little doll and lastly theres mirror selfie of a man holding the doll, the camera flash conceals his face but you’re able to get a nice eyeful of a tempting hairy chest. The doll is creepy but… if that’s his owner, he cant be too bad. Everyone has hobbies!

His height is listed and he’s a respectable 6’4. Under “Hobbies:” he’s written “Dolls.”, and added an emoji of a violin. You’ve always had a weakness for artsy guys. You figure he’s just some hipster. He’s selected various tags to mention he’s a homebody, and he’s looking for a long term relationship, and he’s a homeowner??? You’re sold.

Bo Sinclair:

Pictures of a dirty truck. Several memes about mechanics. You would’ve immediately swiped No, but he’s uploaded quite a few pictures to go through. Amongst the unfunny memegenerator images and past the ones showcasing a dirty old truck, there are several selfies to go through and the guy is just drop dead gorgeous. His jawline could cut butter. He’s got sparkly blue eyes and god damn does he know how to take a proper thirst trap.

There are a number of red flags unfortunately, his description is extremely long and it says nothing about himself besides what you can infer from his LONG list of what he’s looking for in a partner. He wants obedience, a good listener, someone who’s not afraid to get dirty, someone to cook and clean and do his laundry. It all makes your eyes roll. The weirdest part of his profile is that he’s selected that he’s looking for short term things, and that he’s not wanting to be tied down…? Yet he seems to be looking for someone who will just about chew his food for him.

To you, he seems like an overgrown manchild with a pretty face. But… if he’s only looking for fun, you could really do worse when it came to a no strings attached dick appointments. His page says he’s from Louisiana and you wonder what his voice sounds like… As you’re debating whether or not to swipe right, your phone buzzes with a notification that Bo’s superliked your profile.

Vincent Sinclair:

The first image of his profile is purely black and you think that it must be a blank profile. On a whim you read the tags he’s selected, and his interests include several different art mediums. You swipe past the black header image to see several examples of his work, he’s skilled in everything he does and wax figures are a pretty interesting medium. It’s not everyday that you find someone who specializes in working with wax.

His description is blank and he’s not selected anything in terms of what he’s looking for. Even so, you swipe right in hopes you’ll match so you can ask him a load of questions. Mysterious as the profile is, you have to admit that the guy is talented.

Lester Sinclair:

The photos in his profile are a little yikes. Though he’s not holding fish like every other embarrassing profile on this website, there are a number of photos involving dead animals. In one of the photos, the guy is squatting near a bloated gator, pointing and grinning. In another photo, a grimy hand holds a flattened rodent of undeterminable classification.

In the photos with his face, he’s grinning in every one of them. His clothes are kind of grimy and you can assume that he must be some kind of roadkill guy, hopefully as a job rather than as an enthusiast. He’s got such a sunshiney smile and you think he’s cute besides the grime.

The description attached to his profile is just adorable. Everything that he’s selected displays that he’s on this site genuinely because he’s looking for someone to love. Long term or short term, but nothing casual. He’s written that he doesnt have much but he’ll make up for it by ‘Lovin’ ya.” and its just so sweet that youre hitting that superlike button to send him a message immediately.

Micheal Meyers:

Blank profile. No description. No pictures besides a plain black image.

You accidentally swipe right rather than left with a catastrophic finger fumble and you’re surprised that your phone chimes with an immediate match. A moment later, you recieve a message and it’s just one emoji. A knife. Yikes! Blocked!

Despite the block. Your phone chimes with another message and you’re met with a photo. Its blurred for your safety, just in case its an unwanted dick pic. You have to click on the photo and what you’re met with is so, so much worse than the scummiest dick pic. The photo looks like a photo of the outside of your house.

Billy Lenz:

His photos are almost incomprehensibly strange. Everything’s blurry. One of the photos was a blur of movement of which you could vaguely make out a human shaped thing and a single eye. Everything is offputting and strange. The only non blurry picture is (1) single photo of a fluffy white cat.

In his description, theres a very strange paragraph about someone named Agnes, accompanied with baby emojis and then several cat emojis.

At the very end of his paragraph, you see that he’s selected several tags to imply he’s looking for something quick and dirty. The only coherent part of his entire profile is a single, long winded sentence about his apparent desperation to eat pussy.

Bubba Sawyer

Several photos of a chicken. He’s used one of those filter apps to put hearts and other things around the chicken.

Besides chicken pics, there’s a picture what looks to be a windchime made of bones. It’s hung up on a porch, looking out toward a green field with the sun making everything look warm and tinted orange. It’s a nice photo, Bubba seems to have a good attention to detail.

He’s selected no tags to help you determine what he’s looking for. But he’s listed his height and weight. He’s a big… big guy. You swipe right in hopes that you can beg the guy for a face reveal.

Leslie Vernon:

Finally! a guy who shows his face! His profile seems almost meticulously curated. He’s got all the things that would show up if you were to google “How to have the best dating profile.” Theres a photo of him with a dog, a photo of him covered in flour, a photo of him laughing and eating a salad. All the photos seem incredibly staged, which is…. strange.

His description is all about himself. He seems as if he’s been looking for an opportunity to talk about himself and he decided to use a dating website to do it. He mentions that he loves horror movies and that he’s in the “business.” You’re not sure what to make of that. Does he… make…?? horror movies? Does he run a blog or something?

At the end of his very, very long monologue that includes his favorite color and his all time favorite top five movies and music and everything under the sun— he closes his description by saying that he’s looking for his final girl. It’s cheeky and adorably stupid.

Strangeness aside, you love horror movies too, so you’re at least open for a fun discussion about them over drinks or something. He’s pretty much the only guy on this website that seems to know how to use it anyway.

#this is VERY SILLY #Slasher fandom #slasher community #x reader #jason voorhees #Brahms Heelshire #House of wax #Bo Sinclair #Vincent Sinclair #Lester Sinclair #Bubba Sawyer #Micheal Meyers #Billy Lenz #Leslie Vernon

1K notes · View notes

theladyofbloodshed · 1 month

Text

Hunt x Nesta - Chapter 8

The sounds of the shower roused Hunt from sleep. Since Nesta had discovered that her cell could access music at any moment, she was unstoppable. A symphony blasted through the wall; violins were reaching their crescendo alongside a barrage of brass instruments that were accompanied by a flurry of percussion. Then the cannons came as she turned off the shower.

Releasing a groan, he rolled onto his side to check his cell. Eight messages. All from Nesta at various points in the morning whilst he still slept. Each one made him laugh.

‘Hey, when you text, you don’t need to write an address line or a sign off. I know it’s from you because I have your contact saved,’ he explained as she entered with a towel wrapped around her body.

‘What do you mean?’

Hunt motioned for her cell that was churning out another classical song. ‘What am I saved as?’

Nesta paused the music. ‘I don’t know. Plus five zero five eight two-’

He yelped like he’d been shot and threw himself down. ‘You didn’t even save my number? Do I mean nothing?’

‘I don’t know how.’

With Ruhn’s number, he showed Nesta how to save it. He pulled a photo from the web of Ruhn being arrested before he was legal to drink – of course, his daddy had the charges scrubbed but the photo remained – and saved him as the Prince of Pricks.

‘There, now try with me.’

A devious smile flitted over her lovely face as she stood in the middle of the room typing at the speed of a snail.

‘That index finger is getting quite a workout,’ he commented.

Surprising him, she raised her middle finger.

For the second time that morning, Hunt collapsed back onto the pillows, laughter rumbling out of him. ‘Who the Hel taught you that?’

‘We have that in my world.’ She flashed the phone towards him.

His contact name had been updated to Orion Athalar – my favourite angel along with as many emojis as the name would allow. The picture was of him shirtless with ridiculously fluffy wings.

‘You said you’d deleted those, liar.’

‘I’m leaving today. I need a memory to keep.’

‘You’re taking the cell with you to plug in where exactly?’

Nesta shrugged and pressed it to her chest. ‘I will invent electricity in my world so I can always look at these photographs.’

There was no doubt in his mind that Nesta could do anything that she set her mind to. He couldn’t help but wonder what sort of person she’d be if she stayed in Lunathion. They’d stayed up late in each other’s arms talking for hours; Nesta had wanted to know everything about him and the land she was leaving behind. They’d talked about university for over an hour with Nesta needing to know what could be studied, what the fees were, who could study, when it could be studied, and what happened upon graduation. Hunt had listened to her talk about Prythian but most of it left him seething. Nesta couldn’t tell him anything about the place she lived because they stuck her in a fucking house and cut off her funds so that she was entirely dependent on the king and his lackey. That one, Cassian, he’d quite like to meet so he could knock him into next week. She’d grown upset when she talked of her sister whose pregnancy would cause her death. Beyond kidnapping a couple of surgeons and a midwife, Hunt didn’t know what to do to help. The male, Cassian, who forced her on a hike as punishment for telling her sister the truth deserved to be punched. He didn’t like any of these fae males, but this one sounded like the worst.

He'd even come clean about Micah and the awful things he did to inch towards freedom. In a way, Hunt wanted her to be repulsed or to pull away then at least it would soften the blow of her departure. But this damn female just said that she understood why he did it and held him a little tighter.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’

Nesta snickered. ‘Don’t tempt me, Hunt.’

It wouldn’t be that hard to adjust. He’d grown up in a time when technology was near enough non-existent then emerged from a dungeon and everybody had cell phones or were driving cars. He’d cope again going backwards. Anything was possible with her at his side. But maybe Hunt would cause a few too many fights with the fae that ruled her.

‘Just stop letting them put you in danger and using you. Or I’ll fly all the way there and kick their asses.’

Hunt sat her down on the edge of the bed to start drying her hair. She was nervous about him doing it although he thought he did a fabulous job of his own. Truly, he was desperate to do it. Nesta was leaving back to a world where the male that she was tangled with didn’t seem to care for her at all. He needed to show her that males could be gentle – that it was a choice not to be caring. He wanted to dry her hair and take care of her because that was a male’s duty – not fucking her then leaving with his seed still dripping from her.

Vik was expecting them when Hunt took Nesta through a private entrance into the Comitium that was strictly for workers only. Worker was laughable. The slave’s entrance was a better name for it.

‘The sword and the Harp as promised. And I don’t need to remind either of you that it would be a good idea for Nesta to return today, do I?’

‘No, mom,’ Hunt replied, kicking her boot lightly.

‘And I needn’t advise you that walking through Lunathion with a sword will likely have you arrested.’

Hunt frowned. ‘Danika Fendyr and Ruhn Danaan do it.’

‘They’re leaders of the aux and will be the heads of their species one day,’ Vik said.

Sensing Hunt was about to argue with Vik, Nesta rested a hand on his forearm. ‘I’d rather spend my last hours here with you rather than in an interrogation room.’

‘I’d still be there. We can play cops and robbers.’

‘Gross,’ muttered Vik before she turned back to her computer.

For once, Nesta had left most of her hair down. She’d pulled it from her temples with a twist and a couple of hair pins. Paired with a pale blue summer dress, she was utterly stunning. But his dreams of strolling through Lunathion with her again hit a snag when Micah’s name flashed on his cell.

‘You should answer that,’ she said, peering at the name.

‘I want this day with you.’

Nesta pushed the phone towards him. ‘I’d be glad for time with my thoughts. Answer that. Do whatever it is you need to do. We can meet later.’

‘I’ll fly those to the hotel,’ he said, gesturing to her returned items.

Nesta kissed his fingers then strode into the sun, hips swaying as she went.

***

How many different ways could Nesta try to convince Hunt to leave with her – or for him to ask her to stay. She didn’t want to impose. She’d done that enough already on his life. But if Hunt asked her to stay… No, she couldn’t. Feyre was dying. What sort of sister would she be if she left her in those final moments?

Nesta sighed.

The same sister they all believed her to be; worthless, spoilt, and needing redemption.

A shadow bumped into her arm then a figure took up the seat beside her on the bench. Ruhn Danaan wore his typical black jeans and t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses to protect his hungover eyes from the bright sunlight.

‘It’s very loud,’ he said, wincing.

Children were playing at the park where Nesta’s feet had taken her to. Their squeals and joy made her think of the children who never stood a chance in Prythian; the ones who were exposed to war, Illyrian girls who were clipped and beaten.

‘I didn’t think you would come.’

‘And miss the chance to say goodbye?’

Following Hunt’s advice, Nesta had sent a text that merely asked Ruhn to meet her – and she received a reply asking who it was in return. Then another saying if they had once had a date, he wasn’t the sort of guy to want to settle down and he was sorry.

‘I need to return this.’ Nesta held out Tristan Flynn’s credit card. ‘I’d like to keep the cell phone. If that’s alright.’

‘Of course you can. Flynn will be devastated you gave this to me and not him.’

A messenger otter scurried along then stopped in front of Ruhn, brandishing a letter. Nesta couldn’t stop her fawning.

‘Tharion Ketos. What a weasel,’ he muttered, pocketing the letter.

‘I wish we had those.’

‘Mer?’

Nesta tutted. ‘Otters. We have otters, but not ones that wear little jackets and deliver letters.’

Ruhn gave a slight laugh then folded his arms over his chest. He looked at her, really looked at her. ‘You don’t want to go back, do you?’

Everything suddenly felt hot and painful. Nesta tipped her face upwards, blinking as quickly as she could to keep from crying. Ruhn stroked her bare arm.

‘I can’t sugar coat it. My father will not stop until he finds out who you are. You’re technically under his jurisdiction as one of the fae. Hunt is a slave – there isn’t much he can do for you. If Micah sells his ass to Sandriel, he won’t be here.’ Ruhn winced. ‘Is it really better here for you than there?’

Yes, she thought. Because I can be somebody here. I can study and learn and be my own person without history trailing me. And I’d have Hunt.

‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I know I have to.’

‘Let me walk you back to your hotel at least.’

Despite the beauty of the day, Nesta had gone cold and hollow with every step closer to the hotel.

Nesta steeled her wounded heart. She held the pieces together even if they felt like they would shatter from the force. It wasn’t fair.

‘How much would it cost to buy Hunt?’

Ruhn let out a whistle. ‘The Umbra Mortis?’

‘What if I offered my Harp or my sword?’

‘It might sweeten the deal but Hunt Athalar is one of a kind.’

Visions of her putting on the Mask or Crown and forcing Micah to release Hunt to her came to Nesta. It was a bad idea, but a tempting one. There had to be some way for them to be together. Maybe destiny was forged by their own hands.

‘That Harp of yours,’ Ruhn said. ‘It wouldn’t be related to the Horn, would it?’

‘Why would it be?’

Ruhn shrugged. ‘It’s just that the Horn went missing the other day. I came to see you just afterwards and you looked pretty panicked. Then Athalar appeared looking sweaty just after there was a freak lightning storm at Luna’s Temple.’

‘How odd.’

‘Odd indeed.’

On an instinct, Ruhn grabbed the strap of her dress with two fingers at the edge of a busy road without a crossing. Nesta hadn’t quite mastered it yet, but she knew not to walk out now – but his care was appreciated.

‘I heard it’s broken anyway,’ Nesta said with an airy tone. ‘It wouldn’t be any use to the person who now has it.’

‘Unless they knew how to create Made items like a magic sword that doesn’t like me.’

‘What would it mean if there was somebody in Lunathion who could create Made items – theoretically, Ruhn?’

The hotel came into view and they slowed their pace to finish their theoretical conversation. Ruhn pretended to stroke an imaginary beard then slung an arm around her as they walk so he could lean towards her ear and speak in a whisper.

‘If the Asteri knew there was somebody with those powers in Lunathion, they’d be the public’s most wanted. And Hunt Athalar would be ordered to bring them in dead or alive. I don’t think that theoretical person would want the Umbra Mortis in that situation, would they?’

There was no telling if Hunt could disobey direct orders although she knew he’d try. For her, he’d try. And she couldn’t do that to him.

At the doors to the hotel, they stopped opposite each other. Amidst the vibrant colours of his tattoos, Nesta could make out damaged, scarred skin.

‘I’m sorry that it can’t be the way you want it.’

Nesta offered a half-smile that felt like a veneer slapped over a rotting foundation. ‘Do any of us ever get what we deserve?’

‘Maybe in another life.’

This was her other life, her other chance. When Ruhn embraced her, she didn’t know how to respond because the males here treated her with kindness without expectation.

‘I’ll tell Flynn you love him. He can peddle that story about unrequited love to simpering females.’

‘Goodbye Ruhn.’

***

Five names. Five names for him to kill.

Hunt felt sick from it. Sick with himself. Because five on one night was more names than he usually had in half a year. He shouldn’t rejoice in death, but it would shave off a little more of his debt.

He was wrong for it. Wrong for being glad that he could exchange a life for his debt.

Nesta deserved better than that. Better than a slave. A killer. A worthless male.

When he met her in the hotel room, he didn’t mention that he could smell Ruhn Danaan on her clothes despite her desire to spend time alone. He’d let her keep that secret if he could keep his. She might have held him last night and waved away his debt to Micah as something he couldn’t control, but it was Hunt’s action that led him to this point. Nobody forced him to lead a rebellion. And it wasn’t just killing. A single bullet to the head was merciful; the sorts of death Micah had him enact would send Nesta running from him.

Hunt bundled up his grief and disgust. He could hold it back for a few hours. Give her a good few hours before she returned. Let Nesta go home beneath a golden sky rather than his storm.

‘I did something. I think.’

Nesta held out the Horn to him which was glowing with an iridescent light. Faintly, he could feel a thrum of magic through his core.

‘How?’

‘The sword is a Made item. Made by me. I was Made by the Cauldron then took its power.’ Nesta swallowed then looked at him. ‘I fixed it Hunt. It can open to new worlds. It’s a safer bet than the Harp. I fixed it.’

‘If anybody could fix a relic that is thousands of years old, it would be you,’ he said, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.

Every now and then, a silver flame would skitter across the instrument that she clutched in her hands. The Harp would hum in unison with it. Whoever – whatever – Nesta was, Hunt didn’t care.

‘Are you going to blow it?’

Despite her nod, Nesta didn’t move for a while, just stared at him with wide eyes.

‘It’s alright if you’re scared. I’ll be with you.’ He kissed her forehead and the Horn buzzed between them like a hornet. ‘I’m talking to Nesta, not you.’

*** ‘Ready?’ She wanted Hunt to call it off, to tell her to stay at his side until the stars fell. No matter his warnings about the Asteri or Micah or the Autumn King, none of it could be as bad as what was waiting for her in Prythian. A vengeful queen, a sister who was to die, and a high lord who only wanted her to suffer. It didn’t matter what danger she faced in Lunathion because with Hunt at her side, anything was possible. There was no storm they couldn’t weather together.

Hunt squeezed her knee. ‘Ready. To the stars.’

Pursing her lips, Nesta touched the horn to her lips and blew.

A pathetic, raspberry echoed through the horn.

She glanced at Hunt, heat building in her cheeks, and saw that he was screwing his face up. After a moment, he burst into riotous laughter.

‘What was that?’ He asked between his booming laugh.

She found herself laughing in answer, infected by his merriment. ‘I’ve never blown a horn before. I don’t know how to do it.’

Hunt slapped his thigh, trying to right himself. ‘Not like that!’

The pair of them lost it. Whatever tension had been clinging to the room soon evaporated as Nesta tried again and again to put her lips towards the horn. Each time she pouted or made a trumpeting noise, Hunt roared with laughter, setting her off too.

‘Stop looking at me because you’re putting me off.’

Tears rolled down Hunt’s cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut although a large grin spread across his handsome face.

Nesta pulled out her phone and searched how to blow a horn. In a world where knowledge was at her fingertips, it seemed terribly wasteful not to utilise it.

‘Maybe the Horn is still broken, Starlight.’

But it couldn’t be because her magic had been drawn to it and the Horn had been buzzing with possibilities since.

‘I can do it,’ she insisted.

‘I know you can,’ he replied, touching her leg again. ‘Not looking again.’

Easing out a breath, Nesta formed her lips in the shape her cell phone told her to. A low, well-held note emitted from the top of the horn.

Hunt whispered her name.

Near the wall, a great portal had opened, its edges rimmed with her silver flames. Rather than offering a view of Crescent City, Nesta saw into the library in the House of Wind. There was her favoured arm chair with the foot rest pulled close by. A little stack of books that she’d pulled out a couple of weeks earlier was upon the three-legged table.

‘You did it,’ he praised, stroking her cheek. ‘Is there anything you can’t do, you wonderful girl?’

Nesta grasped for him, too emotional to speak. Her hands reached for his face, pulling it to hers to kiss one final time. Strands of his hair fell onto her cheek as they kissed and she stretched out a hand to brush the inside of his wing one last time.

‘Mother above, what the fuck.’

She leapt away from Hunt, startled by the voice.

Lucien Vanserra stood in the library opposite them, peering into the hotel room, a full cup and saucer held in his hand.

Hunt braced his legs then lightning wreathed his body.

‘No,’ Nesta urged. ‘This is my sister’s mate.’

His voice took on a lethal edge. ‘This is Rhysand?’

‘Definitely not,’ called Lucien.

‘Elain’s mate. The eye.’

‘The eye,’ confirmed Hunt, finally taking in the golden eye and the scar rippling down Lucien’s face which was paler than usual.

‘We thought you were dead or kidnapped or trapped in the Prison.’

‘Surprise,’ Hunt said drily.

They passed the bag through first to test it. Lucien, baffled and muttering to himself, waited on the Prythian side to accept it. Maybe it was odd to keep all of the clothes from Lunathion as they’d have no place, but Nesta didn’t want to part with anything from her week there. Everything was taken from her in the war, so she wanted to keep this.

When the Harp and Atraxia were passed through safely, she said it was her turn.

The portal was too high for her step through easily so Hunt lifted her over it and Lucien, gingerly, accepted her on the other side, lowering her to the floor as if she was a sack of potatoes.

‘I think if I blow the Horn again, it will close it.’

She lifted it near to her lips. ‘Don’t make me laugh this time.’

‘It’s my last chance. I have to,’ Hunt insisted, brown eyes sparkling with joy.

But when Nesta did press the Horn closer, the amusement drained from Hunt’s expression, accepting it was the end.

A single note emitted and the flames collapsed in on themselves, leaving Nesta with a view of the tall windows in the library. She dropped the Horn then sank to her knees and wept.

#hunt x nesta #hunt athalar #nesta archeron

82 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 9: Hold

You and Joel go on your first patrol alone. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-8 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 6.8k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey Bambi!” Tommy jogged up Joel’s front steps and leaned against a post, examining you. You were tucked into a corner of the porch, your back against the front of Joel’s house, guitar on your lap. You stopped playing, looking up at him as he smirked a little at you. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here. Didn’t know you played!”

“Oh Miller,” you sighed. “I imagine the things you don’t know would fill several libraries.”

“See, Bambi, this is why I’m glad I’m not goin’ out on patrol with you anymore,” he clutched his heart, mockingly wounded. “You’d just try to kill me out there without Joel to hold you back.”

“You really think Joel could stop me if I wanted to kill you?” You teased, brows raised.

“You really think I’d try to stop her?” Joel was standing inside the doorway, arms crossed, the screen door the only thing between him and the outside. “She’s tryin’ to kill you, you probably deserve it.”

You smiled a little, liking the small intimacy of the front door of Joel’s home sitting open when you were there. In the weeks you’d been playing guitar at Joel’s, you’d made a lot of progress. Once you’d mastered Bad Moon Rising and House of the Rising Sun you started going through the CDs at your house, finding songs you used to know and refreshing your memory. You practiced chord progressions on the handles of shovels in the stables and hummed the melodies as you worked with the horses. When the work was done, you’d get cleaned up and go to Joel’s.

You’d never explicitly said you would be coming by all the time but he quickly grew to expect it, often meeting you on the porch with the guitar in hand before you even had a chance to knock on his door.

He usually left you to it, disappearing back into his house - always reminding you that you were welcome to come inside any time you wanted - but he sometimes would sit on the porch with a book or a cup of tea, politely looking toward the horizon to not make you uncomfortable. You still caught him glancing your way every few minutes but you never said anything.

“I want to hear you play,” you said one night when he met you on the porch.

He laughed a little.

“Promise you don’t, Bambi,” he held the guitar out to you but you didn’t take it, hands in your back pockets.

“Yes I do.”

He sighed and shook his head but smiled a little.

“Please?” You asked, thumbs anxiously rubbing the seams of your pockets. You didn’t want to make joel do anything he didn’t want to do but something in you desperately wanted to hear him play. Since he’s said he wanted to be a musician you’d wanted to hear him play, be able to see and know that side of him.

Music had always felt strangely intimate to you. It was the only way you really felt comfortable expressing your feelings and you’d never really understood how people could just get up and perform for hundreds or thousands. The closest you’d ever come was playing violin for the damn beauty pageants your mother made you do as a girl, until you figured out that if you said “fuck you” during the question and answer portion they wouldn’t allow you to come back. But you knew Joel listened to you playing. Sometimes he was more obvious about it. Other times, he quietly opened a window just a bit and didn’t say anything, like he thought you wouldn’t notice. You never bothered to correct him.

You felt oddly OK with Joel listening to you play. It felt like he already knew so much of you, listening to your music wasn’t going to change any of it. You wanted to know him that way, too. Wanted to be closer to him that way since being physically near him made you nervous.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Ain’t played for anyone in a while so don’t expect me to be some rockstar.”

You scoffed.

“Rockstars are boring assholes anyway,” you said. “Asked to hear you play.”

He shook his head and quirked is jaw but sat on the top porch step anyway. You sat on the bottom one, back against the railing, and looked up at him.

“Remember you asked for this,” he said, arranging the guitar on his legs.

He’d downplayed it so much that you were almost expecting it to be bad or, at best, mediocre. But Joel was… good. Really good.

It took you a moment to recognize the song. It had been a while since you’d heard Springsteen and Joel’s version of I’m On Fire was slower and gentler than the original. But you liked it that way, you realized.

Joel’s version felt a little less insistent, less verging on being out of control and more like quiet longing, the ache of wanting something you couldn’t quite reach but you wanted it so bad you had to at least try. It made your chest tighten and your stomach knot to hear it, made you start to feel warm enough that you were fidgeting in the coat. There was a pull in you to want to be a part of anything to do with him, be alongside him, make something with him. You wanted to fall into him and get comfortably lost there, going along with everything that made Joel who he was, no matter where that took you.

You were silent until the last of the notes had faded and Joel sat there, looking down at the guitar in his hands, the uncertainty pouring off him in waves.

“Well, that’s…” he began but you cut him off.

“You’re amazing.”

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours as he frowned slightly.

“You are,” you said quickly. “I like your version better than Springsteen’s. No one tell the Boss that, though.”

He smiled a little, just enough that you could see the dimple on his cheek and you smiled back.

You were more comfortable being closer to the house after that day. You spent a few days playing on the bottom step, then moved to the top. Now, you always sat in the corner of the porch, your back protected by touching Joel’s home. You liked it there.

The comfort had made it easier to relax while playing, too. Now, you were back where you were before the outbreak, playing whatever song you could hear in your head without much trouble, experimenting with the different ways you could pull sound out of the instrument and how you could weave it together into a melody. That’s what you’d been doing when Tommy came up - what you did most of the time that you were at Joel’s now - toying with things in a way that was melodic but not really a song, just whatever music you felt like making in the moment.

“What brings you by?” Joel asked, opening the screen door.

“Need to talk to the two of you, actually,” he said. “This saves me a stop. Want to come inside, Bambi?”

Before you had a chance to reply, Joel spoke for you.

“She doesn’t like bein’ inside,” he said, stepping outside and going to stand near you. You got up and perched on the porch railing near him, close enough that your knee brushed his side, still holding the guitar. “We can talk on the porch if it’s all the same to you.”

“We’re workin’ Bambi into the patrol rotation,” he said. You nodded, frowning. This wasn’t a surprise. It had been more than a week since you’d finished your training. That didn’t warrant a visit from Tommy. “And we discussed it and we think it’s best if you two stick on patrol together instead of sending her out with someone new….”

“I can handle myself,” you protested. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you. “I don’t need Joel to baby sit me, I can patrol with anyone…”

“Never said you couldn’t,” Tommy said gently. “But we got another new person comin’ in and I’m gonna go out with him at first for a while. You two work well together, watch each other’s backs well. And… Well, Bambi, not to put too fine a point on it but… You’re not comfortable with most people. Seem comfortable enough with me n’Joel, no reason to make you uncomfortable in a situation that’s already dangerous enough.”

You felt your face get hot as you looked at the ground, not able to face Tommy. You didn’t like that people made you uncomfortable and you tried to hide it. Apparently you didn’t do that good a job.

“First patrol is in two days,” he said. “We’re gonna get Olivia to run the stables that day, it’ll just be a day long shift, no overnight. Sound good?”

“I’m good with that,” Joel said. His eyes were still on you.

“Works for me,” you said, looking up toward Tommy again.

“Good,” he smiled a little and gave a single nod. “Then I’m gonna get home before my wife bites my head off.”

He turned to go but turned around, a cocky smile on his face.

“Hey Bambi?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you play Freebird?”

You glared at him for a second, arranging the guitar on your lap again, planting a foot solidly against a spindle of the porch railing so you wouldn’t fall.

“I’m just kid…” He began but you cut him off with the first notes of the solo from Freebird.

You had to watch your fingers to play it and not think too hard about it, just let your hands and mind go. If you focused too hard, you’d fuck it up. But you played the whole damn thing, the whole four minutes and 24 seconds of it - a little faster because you always rushed it. You were a breathless when you were done and looked up at Tommy who was staring at you, open mouthed.

“Don’t know why men always want to hear fuckin’ Freebird,” you rolled your eyes. “Allen Collins is great, don’t get me wrong, but I mean Joan Jett is right there. And no one ever asks for All Along the Watchtower which, Hendrix? I mean come on. Y’all are such simple fuckin’ creatures…”

“Jesus, Bambi,” he said, almost reverently. “Where the hell’d you learn that?”

“My bedroom when I was a teenager because I figured out men don’t take girls who play seriously unless we can play shit like that,” you replied. “Lemme know when your taste develops and you wanna hear some Heart.”

“Well I’m gonna get outta here before I make an even bigger fool of myself,” Tommy smiled again, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Good luck patrolling with that one.”

“I’ll do better than you,” Joel called after him and you laughed a little, shaking your head, before going back to toying with the guitar. You only played for a minute though. Joel didn’t go back inside. Instead he just leaned against a post, watching you silently. You stopped playing.

“Can I help you?”

“Do you not want to patrol with me?” He asked. It wasn’t accusing or even hurt. His face was soft and open, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

You frowned.

“Why d’you think that?”

“Seemed like you didn’t want to be paired with me,” he shrugged. “It’s OK if you don’t, we…”

“I do,” you said quickly. “I want to patrol with you.”

He frowned a little, like he was doubting you.

“I do,” you said again.

Because you did. You’d found yourself wanting to do things with Joel - everything, really - since you’d started patrolling with him the first time. He made you more relaxed than anyone else did, even Ellie. You started standing outside the mess hall and waiting for him to get there before going inside to eat. He’d started beating you there and waiting for you instead. You liked when you heard the soft thud of him opening a window when you played guitar and he tried to listen without disturbing you. You liked that, when he got back from patrol and it was the end of the day, Joel would help you get the horses settled and walk with you to his place to play guitar.

You’d been spending so much time with Joel, people had started to notice. Or, at least, Ellie had.

“What the fuck, Bambi?” She demanded the morning after your last patrol with Joel. You winced, her voice loud, your head pounding after drinking too much at the Tipsy Bison the night before.

“Good morning, Ellie,” you said, hauling a bucket of feed to the next stall. “I’m doing fine, thank you for asking…”

“Oh fuck off,” she stomped up next to you, her eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking Joel?”

“What?” You almost dropped the bucket into the stall.

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, volume isn’t the issue here, kid,” you set the bucket down next to your feet before you took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest. “What do you mean am I fucking Joel?”

“I mean,” she snapped. “Everyone saw you fucking dancing with the guy last night. I know you’re over at his house all the time - I live out back in case you fucking forgot. Are you fucking him?”

“Who is and isn’t between my legs is none of your damn business…”

“It is if it’s Joel,” she cut you off. “I said he could use a friend, not…”

“I’m not fucking anybody,” you said. “But if I were it wouldn’t be your business, regardless of who it was.”

“Joel’s different.”

“And you still won’t tell me what your issue with him is,” you said, picking up the bucket again. “Doesn’t seem fair that I should need to ask your permission to fuck the man if you won’t even tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“So you do want to,” she said.

“Ellie,” you sighed. “Want to tell me what your actual problem is? Because something tells me it doesn’t have shit to do with whether or not I’m sleeping with anyone.”

She clenched her teeth for a moment and glared at you even harder before she sighed.

“You were my friend first,” she said. “And if you start doing… that,” she gestured to your torso and you tried not to laugh. “You’re going to be his… whatever the fuck you’d be. Be friends with him, fine, whatever, but I really don’t want you to ditch me because I’m not speaking to him and you’re fucking him.”

“Ellie,” you smiled a little. “First of all, I’m not anybody’s anything. That’s wouldn’t change even if I were fucking someone. Second of all, you really don’t need to worry about me fucking Joel or anybody else. Not only is it not your business but it’s not… I’m not… It just isn’t gonna happen, OK? So don’t get worked up over shit that isn’t happening and isn’t your concern.”

She relaxed a little but looked like she didn’t entirely believe you.

“Need me to bring a horse out to the paddock for you to work on drawing?” You asked, brows raised.

“Maybe.”

She didn’t look too happy about that fact. You smiled a little.

“C’mon kid,” you said, going to get Shimmer. “We’ll get you all set up.”

You were glad she hadn’t pushed you too hard about Joel or any of the rest of it. You didn’t want to tell her why fucking anyone felt totally out of the question. Or how you wished that weren’t the case because at least that would explain part of the strange draw you had to Joel, this growing longing to be close to him, one that was outweighing your fears.

“Bambi,” Joel said gently. “It’s OK…”

“Will you stop acting like you’re some leper I don’t want to see?” You looked at him, incredulous. “I just… I don’t want the fact that I’m… antisocial to make problems for people, alright? I want to patrol with you. You’re about the only fucking person I’d want to patrol with. But I can do it with other people. It’s my shit to deal with, not Tommy’s, not yours, not the people who figure out patrol rotations, mine. I’m tired of being a fucking burden all the goddamn time…”

“You’re not a burden,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him. “You’re not. Everyone’s got their shit now. It’s the end of the world, that’s how it goes. We work around it. You’re not a burden.”

You nodded slowly, running your fingers over the fretboard of the guitar.

“If you don’t want to patrol with me, I’d understand,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him. “You can…”

“I want to patrol with you, Bambi,” he cut you off. “Meant what I said before. I like bein’ the one to look out for you.”

“OK,” you said, giving him a single, definitive nod.

He smiled a little.

“OK.”

Joel walked you home that night after you went to the mess hall for dinner but asked to stop by his place first to grab something. He came out with something wrapped in paper tucked below his arm but didn’t say anything about it until you were at your front porch. Joel always came to your front door now, always waiting for you to get safely inside and turn off the light before going to his own house again.

“This…” He held out the package, awkwardly cupping the back of his neck, not looking at you. “Thought you might like this.”

You frowned and took it, untying the string around the paper. Inside was a long sleeved shirt, light weight and far too big for you. You looked at him for a second, confused.

“Well, you said the thing you liked about the coat was the smell,” it was like he was trying to look at anything but you, too uncomfortable to meet your eyes. “And… well, it was my coat and I think that means it smelled like me which, you know… That makes sense, seein’ as I was the one who brought you here, you were passed out on me for a few hours and smell is supposedly tied to memory… anyway… It’s too hot for the coat now, you’re gonna get yourself hurt tryin’ to do everything you need to do in that heavy thing and that shirt is a lot cooler and I wore it for a while.” You looked down at it, running your thumbs over the fabric for a moment before bringing it to your nose and breathing deep. It smelled warm and safe. It smelled like Joel. You smiled a little. “Only wore it when I was clean and shit, wasn’t out doin’ anything crazy…”

You looked up at him for a second before you slowly, cautiously pressed yourself against him. Joel froze for a second and you just stood there, your face in his chest, your arms clutched to your torso, the shirt still in your hands. You closed your eyes and breathed him in for moment, calming and centering yourself on him. He gently put his arms around you, holding you to him. You could hear his heartbeat, feel his breathing, absorb his warmth. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“Course,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t… Wasn’t weird?”

“No,” you laughed a little into his chest. “At least, not to me.”

When you went inside that night, you raced around to your back windows and watched what you could see of the street behind your house, the shirt held to your chest, following his darkened silhouette with your eyes as he walked home.

You found yourself looking forward to patrolling with Joel. It would be nice to see him without other realities of life in the way. Just infected and the looming threat of raiders. That was easier to navigate than a pissed off teenager. But you were nervous, too. Less about the patrol itself - you’d done almost the exact same patrol with Joel and Tommy for weeks and almost nothing happened - and more about being alone with Joel for that long.

It wasn’t safety you were worried about anymore - even though the knot in your stomach wasn’t about to let you into Joel’s house anytime too soon - but more the kind of company you were now. You hadn’t been alone like this with someone in so long. What if the person who made you feel the closest you came to OK didn’t want to spend time with you anymore after going out there with you? You wouldn’t blame him, you were barely functional in society as it was. But you didn’t want to lose him, either.

You hardly slept the night before you left for your first patrol alone with Joel and when you did sleep, you dreamed.

You were in a snow covered forest, the trees stretching out for miles in neat little rows, the ground white. You didn’t leave footprints and neither did the little girl beside you even though you could hear the crunch of snow under both your feet. There were shadows in the distance, shadows shaped like men but they were too far away to recognize. But you could feel that they were a threat, that they wanted to close in, that they wanted to rip and tear and take.

“I don’t want to do this.”

The little girl looked up at you with wide, doe-like eyes, her hair clipped back from her face, a gun that was far too big for her in her small hands.

“I know,” you said quietly. “But we have to.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you nodded to the shadows on the horizon. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.”

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You brushed her hair back.

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.”

Her small mouth formed a grim line but she lined up the shot anyway.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you.

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.”

You didn’t remember the dream when you woke up. You only felt the hollow ache of loss as you got ready to meet Joel at the stables.

***

You were wearing the shirt.

It was the first thing Joel noticed when he saw you at the stables, your forehead pressed to Renaissance’s own, your eyes closed.

He cleared his throat and you jumped a bit, away from the horse, your body tense for a moment before you saw it was just him and you smiled a little.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey.”

You were wearing the shirt. His shirt. He hadn’t been wrong, he was the thing you liked about the coat.

His heart beat a little faster.

Joel felt like he was in some kind of delicate dance with you. He had since the night at the Tipsy Bison, when you’d touched him without flinching away. Instead, you’d melted into him, all soft warmth and gentle breaths as you moved together. It was a wonder you didn’t ask him what the fuck his problem was, the way his heart was racing in his chest as your head rested against him as the two of you swayed on the dance floor. He’d been touching you, holding you, feeling you.

It was somehow more than he’d expected it to be.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He had feelings for you, there was no point in denying it. If he was at all honest with himself, even for a second, he’d had feelings for you from the day he met you. Even half dead, there was something in you that he was reaching for. It had just grown in the months he’d known you, watched you with the horses and with Ellie and even his nephew, William. Grown as he’d listened to you relearn the guitar, playing until he had to clean blood off the instrument before putting it away at night. Grown as he watched you grit your teeth and face deeply held fears, trying so hard to fold yourself back into humanity you were willing to tear yourself apart to do it. It had grown so much that, when you moved closer to him in the dim light, he was overwhelmed by it. Like everything else fell away and it was just you and him and the slow, haunting music.

If you’d been any other woman, he would have taken your face in his hand and tilted your lips toward his own and kissed you that night and fuck, did he want to kiss you. He wanted to feel the soft give of your mouth against his, wanted to taste you, wanted to breathe the same air as you.

But he couldn’t do that with you. You were so delicate in this way. He could trust you to claw a man’s face off but couldn’t trust what you might do if he were to touch you the way he so desperately wanted to. And nothing - not even feeling you the way he longed to - was worth the risk of hurting you.

He went home that night and made himself come so hard in the shower he almost collapsed with it, thinking about nothing but the way your body felt cradled against his own as you moved with him on the dance floor.

That night had tipped something in him over the edge. He had to fight to stay away from you, make a conscious effort to not seek you out at every opportunity. All he wanted was to be beside you and, when he wasn’t, he wanted to know that you were OK, wanted to know what you were doing, wanted to know what you feeling. He wanted to take care of you in whatever way he could and the shirt was something he could do for you.

Joel just felt like a bit of a jackass doing it, though.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he’d muttered to himself as he put the shirt on after he was freshly showered and getting into bed one night. Because he felt like a fucking idiot, assuming that the smell you mentioned had fuck all to do with him. How self absorbed could he possibly be?

But he wore the shirt, anyway. If he was right - if the smell you felt safe with was him - then he should help you. It was worth the risk of looking like a goddamn moron if there was even a chance that it could make your life a little easier. He slept in the shirt for a few nights before he wrapped it in paper. It glared at him from the top of his dresser for two days before he was sitting at the mess hall with you and you made some smart ass remark and he caught a glimpse of you, laughing, relaxed and happy. If he could do anything to make the world feel safer, make that version of you closer to the surface, he would.

And you were wearing the shirt.

“Ready to endure a day of patrol with just me?” You asked, smiling a little.

“Better than a day with just Tommy,” he smiled back, going to saddle up his horse.

The patrols all left at the same time and Joel took the lead with yours, following a trail that he’d come to know well through the years. It was the same patrol he’d been on with Tommy when he’d found you months before.

He wasn’t going to mention that part.

“Where’d you find your guitar?” You asked after the two of you had been riding for a while.

“There’s a city, few hours ride away,” he said. “Found it there. Why?”

“No reason,” you shrugged. “Just… wondered if I might be able to find one of my own. Figured you were probably tired of me comin’ around all the time.”

“Not tired of it,” he smiled a little. “Come by as often as you want. I… I like it when you come by.”

“Also thought it would be nice to play with you sometime,” you said, not looking at him, your voice strained. “Not sayin’ we should start a fuckin’ band or anything but… You’re good. I’d like to play with you.”

He smiled wider.

“I’d like that, too,” he said.

The two of you were getting close to where Joel had first found you when you frowned, your eyes narrowed at a spot on the trail. Joel’s chest got tight. Did you remember more than either of you realized? Did you recognize something?

“See that?” You asked, nodding at a branch low on the tree.

Joel frowned.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes and guided your horse to it. You pointed out a splotch of mud on the branch as well as some on the side of the trunk at about knee height.

“Someone climbed this tree,” you said, touching the mud spot on the branch. “It’s dry, been a few days at least but someone climbed this tree. There are people out here.”

“Alright,” Joel nodded slowly. “Lead the way, let’s see what we can find.”

You found a few other signs of people - all at least a few days old - as the two of you worked your way further off the usual path. There were some cabins marked on the map close by and Joel wasn’t particularly surprised when the trail led to them.

You dismounted before he had a chance to say anything, your sidearm held low in your hands as you went up to the first door. Joel jumped off his horse before it fully stopped moving, barely reaching you before you threw the first door open.

The one room cabin was empty, just some old sheets and towels on the floor, the air damp with mildew.

“Bambi,” Joel said, voice low. “We should…”

“Just gonna check,” you replied, looking through the room quickly, yanking up blankets to check below them for something. You made a frustrated sound.

“What are we lookin’ for?” He asked, looking at the hearth in the corner of the cabin. The ash in it was cold, at least a few days old.

“Any sign of there being women or girls here,” you said, lifting the mattress on the floor with your toe. “And any sign of where they might have gone.”

Joel didn’t say anything. He just let you take the lead, knowing you were going to be disappointed. This was a raider camp. It wasn’t like they were going to have left a roadmap to where they were headed next, it wasn’t like there was going to be shit like hair brushes lying around to prove there were women with them.

You went to the next cabin and found more of the same. The largest cabin had more beds but the same disarray. Finally, there was one cabin that you seemed to latch on to.

At first it seemed like the others but you spotted something against the wall quickly. You went to it, kneeling slowly before you picked it up. It was a chain, bolted to the wall. Joel’s stomach turned as you ran your fingers over it to the cuff on the end. You pulled out your flashlight and shined it on the metal, delicately tracing the inside of it before you pulled your hand away.

“It’s dried but there’s blood,” you said, straightening up and shining the light at the ground before you found a stain on the floorboards. You knelt again, running your fingers through the dirt and blood there, examining it. You sighed and hung your head. “Doesn’t matter, looks like they killed her anyway.”

You turned off the flashlight and stuck it back in your bag before brushing past Joel and stalking outside. He followed. You’d stopped next to the fire pit, staring down into the pile of ash, the thumb of your right hand absently tracing the inside of your left wrist.

“Bambi,” he said gently, but you cut him off.

“How often do patrols come out this way?” You asked. “And do they ever make it this far?”

“They come out on the route we’re on every other week,” he said. “But don’t make it all the way out here except every few months, just to check in.”

You nodded slowly.

“They were probably watching for people like us then,” you said. “If they knew the pattern, they took off days ago.”

“I don’t think we can follow them, Sweetheart,” he said gently.

You nodded.

“I know,” you said softly. “Don’t think there’s a reason to right now, anyway.”

“Bambi…”

“Let’s go,” you said, not looking at him as you stalked over to Renaissance.

“If you want…”

“I just want to get the fuck away from here,” you snapped. “So can we please move on?”

Your eyes met his for the first time since you’d found the cabins and the barbed wire was back but it was wrapped around so much pain it hurt to look at you.

“Course,” he said. “Let’s get back.”

The first few hours of the trip back were quiet until you slowed on the trail and waited for Joel to come alongside you.

“Can you do me a favor and not say anything about that?” You asked. “At least, leave me out of it as much as you can? Folks here should protect themselves of course but…”

“Not going to say anything,” he said, watching you. The barbed wire was gone now. Instead, it was just hurt, an aching, screaming pain behind your eyes. He wondered, for a moment, if that’s what he looked like in the time after he’d lost Sarah. If that’s what Tommy had looked at for weeks if not months.

You nodded.

“Thank you.”

About an hour out from Jackson, Joel started humming. You glanced over at him when he did but he pretended not to notice. It was The Chain, the first song he’d ever heard you sing. He was trying to remember the pacing you used, trying to match it. When he finished it, he just started it up again.

“Listen to the wind blow…” Your voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but you sang it all the same. Joel kept humming.

By the time the two of you were back to Jackson, you seemed a bit more like yourself. You leaned forward on Renaissance and scratched her neck, draping yourself over her mane.

“Thanks for that,” you said, opening your eyes and looking at Joel, your cheek still pressed against the horse’s neck. “I needed it.”

“Course,” he said.

Joel was exhausted, the diversion to the cabins adding a few hours to an already long day, and he was ready to write a brief report about what the two of you saw on patrol and get a hot meal when the gates opened as they rode up to town. But Ellie came running out to meet you, her eyes wide and afraid.

“Thank fuck you’re OK!” She looked back and forth between the two of you. Joel looked at you and you gave him a small shrug before you both dismounted.

She threw herself at Joel first, her small body hitting him with so much force that it shocked him. He hesitantly put his arms around her and held her close, her arms tight around his neck.

“I was so fucking scared,” she said, her voice wet.

“What happened Baby Girl?” He frowned. Patrols ran a bit long all the time, it wouldn’t cause her to freak out, not like this. Not when she’d so much as glanced his way in months.

“Other patrols got attacked,” she pulled away from him before going to you, giving you a big but shorter hug. You gave her a squeeze back.

“By what?” Joel asked. “Is everyone OK?”

“Raiders,” she said, stepping back and looking between the two of you, a frantic look in her eyes. “The people all made it back alive. Looks like Jody might lose her arm but she got the worst of it…”

“Fuck,” Joel swore, shaking his head.

“Ellie,” you said. “Do me a favor, grab Joel’s horse and come with me back to the stables so Joel can go handle that?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, squaring her jaw. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You gave Joel a single nod and he watched the two of you head for the stables for a moment before he went to find Tommy.

There wasn’t much he could do, however. The council was already meeting and Tommy filled him in on the worst of it as he nursed a knife wound on his leg.

Half the patrols that had gone out that day had been overrun, one large group of raiders catching them at a crossover point on their routes. The raiders had either been extremely lucky or they’d been watching their patrols and knew where they’d be when.

They’d managed to kill a few raiders and no humans from Jackson had died before fighting off the others. But a total of five horses had been lost in the attack, including Samson.

“Shit,” Joel said, looking toward the stables, where he knew you would be.

“I’ll let you know what else happens,” Tommy said gently, jerking his head toward the door. “Get outta here.”

Joel looked at him for a moment before pulling him into a tight hug, clapping him on the back as he did.

“Glad you’re OK,” Joel said, his voice thick.

“You too, man,” Tommy said. “Go take care of your girl.”

“She’s not…”

“I said what I said,” Tommy cut him off. “Get your head outta your ass, man.”

Joel just shook his head and took off for the stables, looking for you.

He found you there, curled up on the floor, your arms wrapped tight around yourself, your knees against your chest. You were sobbing, your whole body shaking with it. The sight made Joel’s heart ache.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel said quietly, approaching you slowly,.

“G-g-go away,” you managed. “Don’t w-w-w-want your pity.”

He ignored you, getting down on the floor next to you.

“It OK if I touch you?” He asked softly. You nodded through a wracking sob. He lay down behind you and put an arm around you. He delicately, slowly, pulled you back against him, putting his other arm below your head so you weren’t just lying on the cold concrete. You pressed yourself back into him and he buried is face in your hair. “I’m so sorry…”

“N-n-never lost this many at once,” you choked out. “And S-s-s-s-samson wouldn’t have been out at all if it wasn’t for me, it was my fault…”

“Wasn’t your fault,” he kept his voice calm and even. “If it wasn’t him, it would have been another horse. Not your fault, Sweetheart. Promise you, it’s not.”

“It’s probably dumb for m-me to be so upset about the horses,” you sounded like you could at least breathe now. “When there were p-p-people who…”

“Not dumb,” Joel said gently. “The people will live and you worked with these horses every day. Course you’re upset, Sweetheart.”

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, taking a shaky breath. “Jackson, without the horses, we need them to patrol, what…”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Right now, you just breathe. You had a long, awful day. You need to breathe.”

Joel brought the hand that was below you to your forehead, brushing your hair back. Your head dropped back against him, your whole body pressed to his. He just held you like that, feeling your breathing calm and your sobs slow.

“Can I stay here?” You asked quietly. “Don’t wanna go home, just wanna be here…”

“Course you can,” he said gently, his hand finding a gentle rhythm on your hair. “Want me to stay with you?”

“Would you?” You asked, voice shaky again. “Because I… I just… Just want you to hold me…”

“Course I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his hold on you tightening. “I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

Next Chapter

A/N: GUYS

THEY LIKE... FULLY HUGGED AND CUDDLED IN THIS ONE.

This is probably the slowest burn slow burn I've done and I can tell because I get SO EXCITED when they like... barely touch lmfao. I hope you're enjoying it, too.

I'm still doing the tag list thing and I promise I will start up an updates blog soon. I just have not had the time this week! If you want to be added to the tag list and see what the Tumblr Gods will allow, comment below.

Thank you so much for being here and for spending your time with these characters! I so appreciate it, it makes sharing this story so worthwhile. Love you all so much!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #slow burn #yearling

254 notes · View notes

ghostlycheuwing · 7 months

Text

The empty frame (which also became an incidental meta about portraits in Ghosts)

I find the establishing shot of the Captain reminiscing privately in Carpe Diem very meaningful.

We get this image with the music they used in Redding Weddy to introduce the flashbacks between the Captain and Havers. Interestingly, in that episode, we hear the violins twice and it's always in association with the letter addressed to William – the first time, the Captain is looking at the envelope in deep thoughts and hurriedly hides it as he bids Havers to come; the second, he looks at the envelope in deep thoughts and eventually throws it on top of the bomb (his metaphorical heart), intending to bury them forever (... or until it explodes, as it were. Of course, if you repress your feelings for too long, they tend to explode in your face).

When you hear the music, you immediately understand the Captain is thinking about Havers.

The framing (pun intended) is really interesting to me. The Captain has an expression of intense longing on his face. He seems to be in the same position as he was at the end of Redding Weddy, when he sees/remembers Havers' private goodbye from afar as he left for the front; sitting at the same window; turned the same way; a similar expression on his face; both hands on the stick again. Indeed, just after, we are shown the same view of the front gate, sans Havers. If you allow me another nod: the frame is empty.

I keep talking about frames, because I find the empty frame on the Captain's right very symbolic. The association with the next shot (the image of the front gate without Havers = an empty frame) makes it all the more poignant to me. Why is the Captain's frame empty?

Frames are shown to ornate several kinds of objects in the show:

Portraits of loved ones. Fanny's husband comes to mind. Interestingly, it is the portrait of a closeted homosexual man, whom Fanny eventually learns to accept for who he was and what society was through his portrait (while a gay wedding is about to take place).

Portraits of oneself. Humphrey and Fanny are prominent ones. I just realised that both portraits get torn during the show, which reflects their fragmented identities/sense of self. I love that Fanny's portrait gets repaired, albeit not perfectly, by Alison. I love that Fanny recognises that she is still the same girl underneath. (I love that Humphrey seems mildly disgruntled and resigned at the damage on his one? It's exactly his reactions towards his recalcitrant body, and it feels very much like his whole vibe; I adore him). Also, we shouldn't forget Thomas' portrait: slowly built until he overthinks it all, gets ahead of himself and rejects the piece before it is ready... a portrait which ends up being put aside by the woman he loves (a woman who feels slighted by his hasty words even if he only wanted to be honourable). If it doesn't parallel his relationship with Isabelle and his death, I don't know what does!

Mirrors. It is a recurring theme around the Captain of course: we see his reflection in the mirror in the intro; the picture on Alison's mirror has him reminiscing about dead seagulls and start the process of resolution which saves the day.

With that in mind, I find the symbol of the empty frame can work on several layers here:

Portrait of a loved one: the frame is empty, but not because there is no one (there is still a frame). It could symbolise an absent lover (Havers left the picture through that front gate)... or a love that never became official. No one could have taken Havers' portrait for the Captain. And Havers wouldn't have given him his picture, because everything was left unsaid. Not to mention the fact that it would have been incredibly damning and dangerous for the Captain to keep the image of the man he loved around him. It had to stay hidden, invisible. So no picture, and Havers is far away and out of reach, but he is still very much present in the Captain's mind and heart. He is able access the memory of Havers not through his portrait but through his secret memories.

Portrait of oneself: a portrait (one like Fanny's, Humphrey's and Thomas') is made with care. It takes a long time to complete and it cements the way you want to (or people want you to) be remembered through time. It is a reflection of who you are, but also the way others perceive you. Humphrey and Fanny had their portraits done because they were socially important and rich people; these are very official portraits. As I touched before, they are also a sign of their fragmented selves. Both characters want to be and get to be more than this unmoving piece of history. They both lost themselves in who they were supposed to be. Through death, they are allowed to show their own individuality. For his part, Thomas gets to pose like a romantic intellectual (or an intellectual romantic?), very much the way he wants to be seen and remembered. He has someone close to him who is willing to paint him.

Now, the empty frame could be a sign that the Captain was not considered important enough in his life or was not remembered fondly enough (by the troops, for example) to capture his image. We understand that he has never been on the front, and men like Cartwright sneer at him for that reason. In a room full of officers, the heroes whose memory the Captain never fails to honour, he is readily rejected. At that point in time, there is no place in history for the Captain to be remembered (and he believes it too: "I am no hero"). The empty frame could be a symbol of his lack of active role during the war (something that is obviously important in his own identity and the way he is perceived by people who "made history"). The absence of a portrait could also reflect the fact that no close one was there to take his picture. He was not fully seen by Havers, or, once again, it was not possible for them to carry a portrait of their loved one. It was even less possible for Havers to take the time to paint the Captain or be asked to take his picture (… although... one could dream. I mean, can you imagine Havers secretly, or not-so-secretly-but-the-Captain-is-oblivious, taking a picture of him, developing it on his own and frequently gazing at the portrait of the Captain, so focused on his image that he fails to see the seemingly judgemental old lady looking over the Cap's shoulder in the background. I love the idea of Fanny & James, the repressed siblings, having a photo taken of them together before they even got to know each other). To sum up: no official loved one to preserve the Captain's image, no place in history according to his society.

Mirrors: well, it's all about the reflection of the self, isn't it? We know the Captain has difficulties with his identity. He has carefully crafted his military persona and has played the role of the strict and efficient commanding officer for decades, repressing his more sentimental and less conventional side as much as he could. A crucial part of his arc is that he buried his heart and he has to learn to accept himself and express who he is without fear. I also love the idea of inversion in relation to the Captain: in a mirror, you're looking at the inverted image of yourself. "Inversion" was a synonym for homosexuality in the Victorian era (and was still in use in the 40s). Therefore, the recurring theme of mirrors makes a lot of sense around this character. Even his decorations (over his heart) are placed in an inverted way. The empty frame could represent the lingering issue around his identity. After this moment of introspection, and faced with his potentially impeding passing, he will finally tell the truth about who he is. The frame is empty right now, but he is about to leave that behind: he gets to accept who he is. He gets to share the truth about his past and his heart. He gets to be seen (and cherished) for who he is.

The Captain is gazing out of the window, but visually the empty frame is very much part of that window. Hence the Captain is metaphorically reflecting on this empty frame. A symbol for the absence of his loved one, the lack of place in history or remembrance for him, the lack of place in history and memories for his relationship with Havers, the sense of intense self-repression. (on that note, bear in mind that up until his confession, no one knew the Captain's name. It is after this deep introspection that James is able to be open about it all)

When he comes out of his reflection (... pun intended?), we can see how intense the process is for him. It is overwhelming and painful. But when he looks away from the window/empty frame, he faces forward. He turns his eyes to the room next to him - I believe it is the room where he's about to meet the ghosts, so the room where he's about to come out. This shift means that in the Captain's mind, it is not about then anymore: it is about now. Back then he couldn't be himself; he couldn't show his heart. Now, if he's brave enough, maybe he can exist as his true self.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts meta #the captain ghosts #the captain #ghosts bbc #bbc ghosts series 5 spoilers #bbc ghosts series 5 #bbc ghosts spoilers #ghosts spoilers #ghosts meta #the captain's name #carpe diem #the captain and havers #capvers

151 notes · View notes