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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

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yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

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Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.

PART TWO

Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.

If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.

So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her.

Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point.

This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.

And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all.

Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.

A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you.

In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head.

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.”

Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?”

You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”

“Then why -”

“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.”

His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel.

“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything.

Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.

“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!”

Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man.

But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.

If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out.

You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners.

Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her.

You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.”

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse.

When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room.

You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number.

“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you.

“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised.

“Sir -” You began.

“Yulian, please.”

“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.”

You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…

“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.”

You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?”

He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”

“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.”

Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.

“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.

Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time.

He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home.

As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes.

It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped.

She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right?

The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment.

“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room.

“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley.

Her reaction was….amusing.

After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good.

Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too.

But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all.

Taglist

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@navierkalani

@yanderefangirl

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #fem!reader #yandere! literary agent #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #ns.fw #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior

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grimzeyblogs · 2 years

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got a pm on my edit blog and i thought it was someone who's event i'm hoping to enter but no. just a scam bot :[

#lex shouts into the void #sometimes tumblr sucks ass #like if your going to say that you like my art at least INTERACT with it so you have a chance of being believable #even just liking it (which albeit does nothing for me at all but make me feel like its not good enough) would show you SAW IT

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alloftheimagines · 1 year

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joel miller | don't let me drown

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.4k

warnings: drowning, hurt/comfort, angst, lil bit of nude cuddling for warmth reasons but nothing steamy, strong language, inspired by ep six but i changed it up so the bridge is unsteady for the purposes of *drama*. hint towards age-gap with reader in their thirties. they/them pronouns. no y/n.

synopsis: in which the reader falls into the river of death, and it's joel's job to save you and find shelter. featuring ellie. not requested!

You used to think snow was pretty. Magical, even. Now, you only think it’s a bitch to travel through, especially on foot with the harsh mountain winds blowing off the river.

Of course, you can’t complain because the fourteen-year-old and fifty-six-year-old aren’t, and you’re probably supposed to be fitter than the two of them put together. But inside… fuck. You’re exhausted, freezing, and desperate to get to your next destination so you can sleep on something other than ice and mud.

When the bridge comes into view, relief washes through you. If you can get away from the open water, maybe the winds won’t be so biting and you’ll finally be able to feel your cheeks again. You puff out a visible breath and glance at Joel, who is both pale and rosy-cheeked from the cold. Ellie follows behind, watchful as ever. You can’t imagine what it must be like for her, trekking so far from where she began. Seeing so much. It’s been rough on all of you, but you’ve made it through together. Whatever comes next should be a breeze.

“Keep a lookout,” Joel warns, poising his handgun and nodding at you to do the same. You’ve been warned that nothing good can be found by the river, and it’s left an unsettling silence between you since you started your journey.

You dip your head, preparing your own gun as Ellie does the same. But if anything is here, you don’t see it — not on this side of the bridge or the other. It’s a rickety old thing, but if it gets you across… it’ll do.

“C’mon,” he grunts. The bridge creaks beneath your feet, and you follow Joel’s footsteps to avoid any weak spots. Until gunshots sound somewhere in the distance. You all jump, but it’s you who loses your footing as a chunk of rotten wood disappears beneath your feet. Before you can find something to grab onto, you’re falling, screaming, clutching thin air. Joel yells your name with a fear you haven’t heard in a while, but his voice is lost as the rushing water swallows you up.

Freezing. So cold it makes you burn. The river turns your world grey and endless, as though you’re floating in a void. You thrash, trying to kick up to the surface, but the shock is jolting through you, making you numb, and you can’t remember how to use your limbs.

You cough and gulp down an unbearable amount of water, and that’s when you know. There’s no air, no way of making your lungs work. They just keep burning, squeezing for something that no longer exists. Your vision goes blurry and then disappears completely.

***

Joel watches it in slow motion. The splintering bridge. The fall. The ripple in the river as it chews you up and doesn’t spit you out. He doesn’t realise he’s screaming your name, doesn’t realise he’s even running, until he reaches the other side of the bridge.

“Stay there!” he orders Ellie with a warning finger, fear ricocheting through his voice, through the trees. You’re gone is all he can think. You’re gone, and he can’t fucking do this without you.

His knees ache as he half-sprints, half-slips down the embankment, kicking snow into the river. After shucking off his shotgun and placing it down, he takes off his jacket in a moment of clarity, knowing you’re going to need something warm. And then he’s plunging into the river, cursing at its low temperature. His teeth chatter as he shouts your name, searching for any sign in the steadily flowing water. But there’s nothing. He dives under when he gets closer to the bridge, skin becoming ice as he searches the murky depths.

He has to come up for air twice before he finds you sinking to the riverbed. He’s never moved so fast, snatching you up in both arms and pulling you to the surface. You’re deadweight in his arms, and panic lances through him when he finds you’re eyes closed.

He calls your name again, urgency sharpening his words as he pulls you to the embankment. Despite his orders, Ellie waits there, eyes wide and afraid. He doesn’t have time to scold her. He’s too busy carrying you out, water pooling at his feet as he staggers to solid ground and lays you down.

“Baby?” He shakes you, droplets falling from his face and onto yours as he kneels over you. “Come on. Come on, baby.”

He presses an ear to your chest: finds no sign of breathing.

“Shit.” He begins compressions then, counting to thirty before giving you mouth to mouth. Your lips are ice cold, and so are his, his knuckles reddening as he presses the heel of his hand down again and again and again. “Come on. Come on. Breathe.”

“Joel,” Ellie whispers, terror in her voice.

He squeezes his eyes closed, unable to face what it means. What might be happening. He isn’t losing you today. Not any day. “Come on. Come back to me. Come back to me, darlin’.”

Your breath gutters, and instinct has him rolling you onto your side as you cough up more water than any person should be able to.

“Fuck,” he’s saying, rubbing warmth into your shoulders. “Ellie, grab my coat.”

She does, and he wraps it around your quivering body before pulling you close. “I got you,” he’s whispering. “I got you, darlin’. I'm here."

More coughs leave you, and he brushes your hair off your forehead to look for any sign of injury. Your lips are blue, and it terrifies him. Cold water shock can kill, and the way you went under… Shit, it’s a miracle you’re here, upright.

You’re shivering so violently that he knows the worst isn’t over. Hypothermia. Pneumonia. Those are just some of the things he’ll have to watch for. He can’t take you anywhere like this, can’t protect Ellie or you, but you can’t stay here either. You need to warm up. You both do.

“We need to find shelter. Somewhere to light a fire and get warm.”

“I saw some rock overhangs deeper in the woods,” Ellie said.

“Can you grab the bags?”

“Yeah.” She slips a backpack on each shoulder and then props Joel’s shotgun under her arm. Not ideal, but he can’t think about that now either. Not when you’re barely opening your eyes.

He breathes your name and then: “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

A faint nod.

“Good. That's good. We're gonna get you warm.” He pulls you into his chest, hooking an arm under your knee and the other around your back. You sink into his warmth, but you’re so limp that it terrifies him as he carries you up the embankment, following Ellie’s lead.

Sure enough, she guides you both to a deep overhang beneath snow-topped crags, and he dips his head to fit in the low space. He places you against the wall, already unravelling the bed rolls.

“Get a fire going,” he says. He’s certain that he had a few matches left last time he checked, and Ellie rifles through his bag before producing them. With shaky hands, she gathers a pile of sticks and surrounds them by rocks just like he taught her before lighting the match and letting it spread.

The twigs are damp and produce a lot of smoke, but sure enough, an amber glow lights the dark shelter a moment later.

“That’s it. Good,” he whispers.

Ellie glances at your hunched form warily. You’re so pale, so cold you’re practically convulsing. “Are they gonna be okay?”

“Have to be,” Joel mutters. He slips off your sopping wet coat and sweater, and Ellie turns away as he gets rid of the rest.

“You still with me?” he asks you.

You hum in response, folding into yourself in your nudity.

“Here.” Covering her eyes, Ellie hands him a spare long-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweats from her own pack, luckily from Bill’s stash of adult clothes.

“Thanks,” he replies, urging your arms up so he can slip on the shirt. It’s an uncomfortable ordeal with your clammy skin, but he needs you warm. Now. Even when you groan, skin no doubt stinging painfully. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

He has to pull you up for the sweatpants, and then he’s rolling thick thermal socks onto your feet and tucking you into blankets and bedrolls. “How’s that? Feel warmer?”

You shake your head, and he helps you shuffle closer to the fire.

“Now?”

A nod that has him relieved. He can’t help but place a kiss on your damp forehead, realising too late that he’s cold and shivering too. He only has another flannel in his backpack, though, and he can survive until he’s at least gotten you warm. Protecting you from his damp clothes using the bedroll, he wraps his arms around you to keep in the heat.

“Gave me a damn heart attack,” he mumbles into your hair, squeezing his eyes closed to chase away the darkness creeping in. The thought of losing you. All the other scenarios where you didn’t end up here with him after the fall. He should have been smarter. Shouldn’t have taken you across that damn bridge.

The ghost of a smile crosses your flame-lit face. “Sorry." And then: "You’re… cold too,” you rasp between shivers. “Get in here.”

He glances at Ellie. No way in hell is he going to strip off with her here. As though understanding, she raises her brows and shifts away. “I’m going to go find out if bears really do shit in the woods.”

“Don’t go away,” he orders. “Just… give us a couple minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” She disappears, and her crunching footfalls outside keep his concern at bay.

His concern for her, at least. Your face still lacks colour, your breaths sounding watery and wrong even now. He grinds his teeth, reluctant to pull away from you for even a minute. But if he dries off, he can give you his body heat, so he quickly tears off his clothes and replaces them with the one dry shirt he owns. He doesn’t bother buttoning it up, instead crawling into the bedroll with you and enveloping you in an unyielding hold. You lean against him, eyelids drooping but shivers finally beginning to ease.

He begins to warm up after a few minutes and can only hope you are too. When he notices your eyes closed, he stiffens. “You still with me, darlin?”

“Think so,” you murmur, your cool hands travelling across his bare chest. He tries not to flinch as he directs them up to his chest. His mouth. He kisses your knuckles before cupping his own hands around yours and blowing. Then, he rubs, generating friction.

“Keep talking to me,” he pleads.

“‘Bout what?”

“Anything.” Anything, as long as you don’t leave me. As long as you stay. “What was your favourite book growing up?”

You were barely fifteen when the pandemic hit all those years ago, but you smile as you remember that old bookshelf your dad put together full of worn paperbacks. “You don’t read, Joel. You wouldn’t know even if I told you.”

“So tell me about it.” He’s still using his hands, pushing feeling back into your body bit by bit.

“I’m okay,” you whisper finally. “I’m okay, Joel. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know that.” But he won’t stop, won’t give up, even when your cheeks turn pink once more. God, he’s missed the way you glow like that, the way it looks brighter in the snow.

You take a ragged breath. “I liked Gulliver’s Travels.”

“Yeah? Who’s that by?”

“Joel…” Your eyes flutter shut. “Please. I’m tired. I’m warm. I’m okay.”

But he can’t trust it after he’s just put breath back into your lungs; can’t trust it to stay there. He holds you tighter, placing a gentle, terrified kiss into your hair, even if he’ll never admit that he is terrified. That he can’t breathe if you’re not breathing. He realised that the moment he jumped into the river without caring if it got him killed too.

You’re all he has to hold onto, and he could never let you drown.

“I just need… I need you to keep talking to me for a little longer, baby. Just until I know you’re okay,” he says.

“Okay.” So you tell him about your favourite book, drifting in and out of the conversation. Soon, you stop shivering against him and the bedroll warms with two sets of body heat, just as he’d hoped. The fire keeps up until Ellie finally comes back to refuel it with more sticks, offering Joel a smirk that he returns with a gentle glare. You barely seem to notice, still muttering.

“Sounds like a great story,” he says finally. “I think Sarah had that one.”

“Yeah.” You smile, cheeks swelling this time as you nestle into his chest. But then you cough, and he frowns. God, is this what it’s gonna be like now? One cough’ll leave him frozen with fear?

“I can read you guys a great book!” Ellie volunteers, and of course pulls out her pages of puns.

Joel groans. You chuckle, and his heart warms at the sound.

“Tell me the one with the penguins again,” you ask.

Ellie grins and flips through the pages, and you get a million more cheesy puns that make you laugh until you can no longer hold your head up. You’re certain Joel’s bare chest ripples with stifled amusement at some points.

“Joel?” you ask as Ellie turns the page.

“Yeah.”

“I’m so tired.”

Another wave of dread. He masks it clearly, examining your features. You look and feel warm, and you sound like you. If you need the rest, he can’t keep asking you not to take it for his own selfish reasons. For his own pathetic fear.

Finally, he surrenders. “Okay, darlin’. Get some sleep. We all need it.”

“Night,” Ellie says, getting comfortable in her sleeping bag.

Your eyes shut instantly and don’t open again, but your chest rises and falls smoothly against your interlocked hands. He listens to it as the shelter quietens, the fire getting lower. He listens all night just to make sure you’re still breathing. When light returns the next morning, he finds Ellie has done just the same, wide awake and unwilling to tear her gaze away from the two of you.

“They’re okay, right?” she asks.

Joel can only hope that it’s the truth when he says, “Yeah. They’re okay.”

“Good.” She nestles into her makeshift pillow — her backpack. “You’re a real grouch when they’re not around.”

He rolls his eyes, tempted to point out that he is always a grouch, though Ellie’s right. He needs you. He will always need you.

And god, he hopes he never comes close to losing you like that again.

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

Note

Okay, since you’re rereading the books and your up for this request, can I request headcanons with the same hades reader you wrote earlier where she meets Nico di angolo when he arrives to camp and from the moment they met, they hit it of instantly and Nico clings to the reader his entire time there, and even hangs out with Luke cause Luke is the readers bf?

This was long as shit as I got carried away…oops. Not so much on Luke and Nico spending time together but more so reader and Luke talking about Nico.

The moment Nico was brought to camp, a wide eyed boy who was so full of awe and wonder and excitement, you just knew how special he was and you couldn’t help but feel a familial sense when it came to the boy.

Almost as if you knew him your entire life when in reality this was your first ever meeting the boy, but something deep down told you that you would do anything to keep this boy safe and happy for as long as possible before it would be taken away from him; after all life as a Demi-god wasn’t all glory and valour and you all had to learn that rather ruthless lesson one way or another…oftentimes prematurely.

Then again, you chalked this feeling down to you being protective towards the younger Demi-gods that entered camp but this feeling was a lot stronger then that, a hell of a lot in the sense that a older sibling would fret over their younger siblings…but Nico wasn’t your sibling…well not that you were aware of seeing as he was still unclaimed but you guessed being a child of the big three had made you envious of what children of other gods had; family. You were alone and have been alone for quite a while…

Luke, your beloved boyfriend, was able to fill that void for a while, but sooner or later the realisation of just how lonesome you have been would come to consume your every thought.

Mythomagic. You hadn’t heard of that game for quite some time but you had a deck of Mythomagic cards locked within a box, underneath one of the floorboards inside your windowless cabin. Why? They had become so severely damaged and worn with time that you were scared that if you were to pick one up, it would crumple to dust within your palm. Plus it was a sentimental gift from your mother before she…never mind.

The memory was still too painful for you to recollect.

So when you saw Nico fiddling with a Dionysus card -the weakest card in the card game- between his fingers out of nervous habit, you almost didn’t recognise yourself speaking until Nico’s dark eyes looked directly at you with excitement.

‘A Dionysus card, haven’t met anyone who played Mythomagic that genuinely liked that card, you like Mythomagic kid?’ You had asked.

‘Do you?!’ Nico exclaimed as his smile matched his dark obsidian eyes in how brightly they shined.

‘Does Hades have 4000 attack power, 5000 if the opponent attacks first?’ You quickly corrected your self as Nico moved to sit next to you under the tree. ‘Who’s your favourite?’ You added, wanting the lad to feel at ease with you despite what everyone else might’ve told him about you in terms of unapproachableness.

‘Dionysus obviously!’ Nico replied, showing you his card as if to emphasise his point. ‘People think he’s not all that good but I think his powers are pretty cool and to find out that he’s real?! Even cooler!’ He adds on as he looks down at the card as if he was debating whether or not he was going to ask Mr D to sign it. However if Nico was the type of player that you assumed him to be, he wouldn’t dare tempt the idea. ‘Who’s yours?’

‘Hades.’ You said point blankly before continuing, ‘and it’s not because he’s my father.’

‘Hades is your father?!’ - Nico near enough shouted to ear you both the eyes of a couple of campers but you shot them a deadpan glare and they were quick to go back to whatever it was that they were doing beforehand. You softened your face as you looked back at Nico and answered his question. ‘Yeah, he is. He’s not as bad as people make him out to be, he doesn’t get in other people’s business like some gods and goddesses, considering he’s got his own dealings that take presidency but he’s more accommodating then most seeing as I’ve visited him on multiple occasions.’ You finished, shrugging your shoulders, you didn’t want to add on the fact that he had even gifted you Dvir, a hellhound, just yet. In due time you would but, some people would consider that too much.

‘Wow, you’re so cool.’ Right then and there you decided that you would have Nico’s back no matter what, for he was the only one besides Luke that didn’t fear you for your father and by god was it the most reliving thing ever!

You became someone Nico felt comfortable being his true self with, and would even try to sneak into the Hades cabin whenever he needed you to give him comfort and reassure him that you wouldn’t leave him for the Hunters Of Artemis like Bianca did; despite it being against the rules and all but it’s not like you didn’t do the exact same thing with Luke whenever you needed his presence to sooth and put your mind at ease.

He even tried to sit next to you during dinner time at the pavilion, another camp rule he had broken in order to be by your side, but no one dared to speak up upon it and instead bite their tongues, seeing as you and Luke were equally challenging anyone to speak about this to Mr D or Chiron but, nobody dared to do so. Meanwhile Nico was completely obvious to it all and was showing you all of his Mythomagic figures, Mythomagic expansion packs and bestowing every last drop of his knowledge of the card game onto you, all the while you were storing it within your own head as though it was something you were going to have to use later on.

No matter where you went, Nico wasn’t far behind following you like a lost puppy. Needless to say that whenever anyone saw Nico on his own, they knew better then to try anything for you were often lurking within the shadows nearby, watching over the boy with such a fierce protectiveness whilst giving him his freedom to better aquatint himself with camp. When it came to Nico, it seemed as though you became a complete different person, you didn’t know why but all you knew was that you weren’t going to let anything harm Nico while you were able to do something about it.

‘Doesn’t it bother you? Having him cling onto you all the time?’ One brave camper asked once and in all honesty? You didn’t care that he clung to you do suffocatingly. If anything you were glad that he choice you to be the one he relies on for anything and everything, it made you feel an whole assortment of things, the main one being happy knowing that someone openly sought you out because they viewed you as someone who’s opinions are worth listening and taking head to.

Nico felt safer with you than he ever did elsewhere, which was saying something considering he was within a camp built to protect people like him but he felt his most safest with you; Someone whom he quickly began to form an attachment towards and would oftentimes find himself clinging to your side like a second shadow. So much so that Luke would playfully tease you about it whenever he saw you both.

When in actuality Luke loved the fact that Nico was so attached to you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that even with him by your side you still felt like you were alone, and could only hope that Nico would be the one to fill in that void within your heart completely. He was also happy for Nico for having you to fall back on because there was no one in camp that he would have to watch his back then yourself.

‘He’s asleep.’ You mused, looking at Nico, who fell asleep against Luke’s shoulder and was snoring softly.

‘He’s a good kid.’ Luke replied, ruffling Nico’s dark hair as a smile appeared on the younger boys face as he readjusted himself before falling still. Still like the dead Luke once playfully commented.

‘He really is.’ You said aloud, grasping Nico’s hand upon watching it reach out for you, squeezing it in hopes of showing him that you were with him. Luke pressed a kiss to your forehead as he saw the variety of emotions that flashed through your eyes as you kept watch over the sleeping boy. ‘You’re a good influence on him babe, don’t doubt yourself, the boy practically idolises you.’ He tried reassuring you but still the thoughts wouldn’t let up.

‘What if there’ll be a time where I can’t reach him, where I can’t save him from himself and he’ll resent me for it.’ You asked, needing Luke’s guidance more than ever in your time of uncertainty. Luke pondered this for a bit before finally responding. ‘There won’t be a time where Nico would ever resent you and even if that did ever happen, I just know that he would hate himself even more for pushing the one person who had his back and cared for him like their own flesh and blood.’ He then squeezed your thigh reassuringly. ‘That and you’d dive into the depths of the labyrinth to bring him back no matter what and he knows that better than anybody that you’d endanger yourself just to save him, even from himself.’

He was right. You knew he was right. You would wholeheartedly throw yourself into harms way if it meant Nico came out unscathed and that terrified you and Luke could see this. ‘So don’t doubt yourself because if you doubt yourself then Nico will doubt himself by extension. For if the person he admires doubts themself then he would feel like he should too.’ Luke then rests his forehead against yours, his eyes staring deeply into yours. ‘I know you can guide him down the right path, be the kind of person you needed when you were in his situation, be the person you know you’d feel safe with, be his protector because I know you can. He needs you.’ He finished.

You looked down at the peacefully sleeping Nico before looking back up at Luke with a look of determination. ‘I promise to protect him and help him in whatever he may need.’

Like smirks. ‘That’s my baby.’

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic

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daytaker · 2 months

Text

The Gang's Tumblr Pages

Inspired by this and my own reaction to it.

Lucifer

Perfectly curated, perfectly formatted, and whenever there's a major change to the tumblr format, he simply leaves the website altogether in a huff of peacock feathers.

Lots of HD photography of nature getting reblogged.

Has an extremely complicated and specific list of tags he uses for every single post.

He only reblogs text posts that are sufficiently visually appealing. Very few meet his high standards.

You could look through his entire blog and not learn one single thing about him except that he's a perfectionist to the point of neurosis.

He has a lot of professional art blogs following him.

Mammon

Oversharing oversharing oversharing!!!!

He regularly gets himself in trouble by shouting about the shit he's done into the void of the internet.

Tried to have a tagging system but forgets about 7/10 times.

Reblogs himself all the time to say "AND ANOTHER THING!!!"

He hates looking at the actual blog pages. The text is always so tiny and some of them start playing music and changing his mouse into a weird shape? No thank you.

He has very few followers and he doesn't really care. Who goes on tumblr for the social element? Weirdos, that's who.

He's insanely easy to troll with anonymous asks. Everyone has done it. Even Lucifer, though he wouldn't admit it.

Some of his best asks:

"did u just post that you're okay with the idea of ponies and unicorns breeding. like no shade on that conceptually but why."

"If you reblog another 'reblog this for good luck' post, I will personally break down your door and steal your skin."

"ur ugly" "yeah-huh" "ugly" "no i won't 'come off anon and fight u' whhy don't you come ON anon and fight me?" "'i don't know how' sounds like something a chicken would say"

Leviathan

He just makes a blog like one of us. Fandom stuff.

Except he's multifandom to the extreme. It's impossible to keep track of his interests because he always has so many simultaneously.

He has the most followers of the brothers just because he gets so deep into so many fandoms that they come rolling in.

He has blocked all of his brothers except for the twins. They're okay.

His blog is a chaotic mess but there is order within the madness. He has a masterpost of tags that explains everything if you care to look at it. (I don't recommend it.)

Satan

It feels stupid to even put this in writing but...cat pics. Endless cat pics. That's like 90% of his blog.

The other 10% is a mixture of book recommendations and analysis, Lucifer shade, and a comprehensive, ever-expanding list of shit Lucifer has done to make Satan angry. It's a very long list. It's organized by theme.

"Lucifer inflicts unjust punishments." "Lucifer makes unnecessary snide remarks." "Lucifer simping for Diavolo and MC (pathetic)."

His blog itself is very minimalist and clean.

He's another fastidious tagger. He tags the cat pics by color, breed, age, number of cats, setting...

Asmodeus

He's not very into tumblr. It's like Devilgram but more complicated and less popular.

Sometimes he'll post or reblog 'aesthetic' things. Moodboards and the like.

In general though, he doesn't really 'get' tumblr.

People don't post selfies very often. Weird.

Beelzebub

Food blog.

Just food.

Reblogging hot dogs.

Reblogging nachos.

Reblogging ice cream.

Nothing else. Ever.

Belphegor

"This minimalist Tumblr has no posts."

No posts.

Default profile picture.

Sometimes he'll like something.

Usually he just looks at it.

Diavolo

There is no order. Only chaos.

He hardly ever uses it, then he'll come online and reblog a million things that have nothing to do with each other. Then he'll go silent again.

He has no tagging system.

He has no custom theme.

He is very friendly to all anonymous askers though.

Barbatos

Barbatos would never have a tumblr. Don't be ridiculous.

Solomon

He only posts very rarely. He prefers to lurk.

When he does post, it's something weird as fuck, like reblogging statistics about owl pellet contents.

He likes to keep people on their toes.

Simeon

Reblogging inspirational quotes, pictures of nature, and general positivity.

That is, once he figures out how the website works.

That takes a really long time.

What is a queue? What are tags? Why is it called a "reblog"? How does he track activity? How does he navigate the homepage? Why does it post things in such a strange order? What is a "Blaze"? What is a draft? Custom URL? Custom Theme? Sideblogs? Mass Post Editor?

Someone please help him.

Solomon probably does that.

Luke

Baking.

He uses tumblr for recipes and images of baked goods.

But tumblr isn't even the best place to go for that, so he isn't on very often.

He sometimes likes Simeon's posts, just as a show of support since he knows how hard Simeon works to post anything anywhere.

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dancingtotuyo · 3 months

Text

5. sleep the hours that i can't weep

Woman | Joel Miller

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You have a rough day

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (Reader is 42, Joel is 56). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: Grief, depression, sadness,

Notes: huge shout out to my beta readers @fhatbhabie and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin I love you both so much! and I appreciate the time you've taken to help me with this story.

Words: 2711

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Two Months Later

It wakes up with you, the heavy weight that dulls your senses making you feel removed from the world. The bed feels colder, and emptier, like you’re staring into a void. You miss Gabe and his warm smile waking you up. You miss the laughter ever present in his eyes.

Your hand reaches out, fingers spreading over the pillow, his scent long gone. You sigh, eyes closing with the few tears that escape. You pull the covers up, tucking it under your chin. The grief washes over you.

Your bedroom door clicks open. There is a soft patter of little feet on hardwood. Carter’s small hands clutch the sheets as he pulls himself up, slipping into the vacant space. Warm palms touch your cheeks. You open your eyes to be greeted by the same eyes you miss. Only, they’re smaller.

“Morning, Mommy!” He smacks a wet kiss on your cheek.

“Good morning, Baby Boy,” A smile reaches your lips. Your arms wrap around his small frame, pulling him into your arms. You pepper his face with kisses as he giggles, covering his eyes with his hands. “Did you sleep well?”

Carter nods, snuggling further into you. He provides you with a warmth your body can’t seem to produce and the July morning doesn’t chase away. You inhale deeply as the grief settles in again. Double this time, as Carter’s namesake floats through your brain. You know the date well. The birthday of both your brothers. Blake and Carter. The day you spend thinking about Carter. His lifeless body flashes before your eyes. The day you were left alone in the world.

It’s the day you spend wondering if Blake might still be out there, and your parents. Most of the time, you accept that they’re all gone. Today is the exception. It got harder when Tommy showed up. It gave you hope for maybe.

“I think we’re gonna stay in bed for a little bit. How does that sound?”

He doesn’t respond, but you don’t expect him to. He’s content in your arms. You don’t have to go to the clinic today. You won’t. They’ll come get you if you’re needed so the two of you stay snuggled under the covers late into the afternoon.

Joel’s voice pulls you out of your hazy nap. Your limbs feel warm and stiff in a good way. Carter shifts beside you, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead as it always does when he sleeps. Your eyes blink open, Joel’s solid frame slowly coming into focus as he leans against the door frame.

“Hey…” Your limbs extend as you stretch your muscles.

He smiled softly, drawing to the edge of the bed. “You weren’t at the clinic. I was worried something happened.”

“We just needed a day in bed.” Your hand brushes over Carter’s head.

The mattress dips with Joel’s weight. He smiles at Carter’s sleeping form. “Everything okay?” He notes your puffy eyes, red from your previous tears.

You’re tempted to shrug it off and keep the information to yourself, but this is Joel. You’re working on opening yourself up to him.

“It’s Blake and Carter’s birthday today. It just makes me think about my family.”

Joel nods, hand running up and down your covered calf. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

You pull yourself into a seated position. Joel smiles, running a hand over your cheek where tears had run hours earlier, though it felt like they’d hardly stopped. “I must look like a mess.”

You wipe your nose with the back of your hand. The heaviness still rests on your shoulders, but some of the weight has lifted. It doesn’t feel as close as it did this morning.

“Maybe just a little bit,” Joel chuckles, holding up a small space between his thumb and pointer finger. You smack his bicep.

“Rude.” but a smile pushes its way onto your face.

His deep chuckle fills the room. “I’d like to stay if that’s okay. Maybe make you dinner?”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

He kisses your forehead softly, thumb caressing your cheek. The afternoon sun pours through your bedroom window flickering off floating dust particles. Carter’s head is heavy in your lap. You know he’s going to stay up all night. You have no idea how he’s stayed in bed with you all day.

“Good.” He hums.

Your stomach rumbles, loud enough for Joel to hear. He tilts his head your way. Carter shoots up, looking at you through narrow eyes. “Hungry Mommy.”

“We might need to eat dinner at 3 pm.”

Joel chuckles. “I can make that happen.” He eases off the bed. Carter follows his lead stringing sounds together in the process. You get the impression he would like to help. “I agree, bud. Mom could definitely use a shower.”

You scowl.

“And her teeth brushed.”

You cross your arms in protest but the body odor fills your nostrils. Crinkling your nose, you try to ignore it, but can’t. “That’s not very flattering of you.”

“No- but it’s honest.” Joel winks. “You take a shower. You’ll feel better, and Carter and I will make food.”

Carter nods, crossing his arms over his chest. You can’t help but giggle at your toddler. “Okay, okay.” You throw your hands up, and another wave of body odor. “But I expect dinner to be on the table when I’m done.”

“Aye, aye.” Joel salutes you. Carter copies, making you laugh more.

The two of them leave you to prepare a meal. Your stomach growls again as you pull yourself out of bed.

Once you’re in the shower, the tears spill again, mingling with the scalding water of your shower. It’s one of those days when you wonder, why you? Why did you get to live? Why did you have to lose so many people? Blake, Gabe, Carter, your parents, their faces all flash in your minds, some more blurry than others. There are more faces and names still. The people you’ve lost since the outbreak, the people you couldn’t save. The weight compounds, threatening to break you, yet you’re still here. You’re still standing.

Eventually, the hot water dries up and so do the tears.

Joel is right. The shower helps. Despite the bloodshot eyes staring back at you in the mirror, you feel like a new person, your body scrubbed clean from all the sweat and tears. Steam still drifts through the bathroom as you pull on your clean clothes. Your breath smells like mint and your skin like lavender.

Dinner is almost ready when you make your way downstairs, but the warm smells drift through your home. Ellie’s voice joins Joel and Carter’s as Carter shows Ellie where to find the correct dishes. It pulls a tired smile to your lips. She comes and goes these past few months, not sure where she belongs as you and Joel settle into whatever you are. You always make space at your table for her.

“Looks like I should’ve taken longer.” You tease.

Joel smiles, handing you a cup of water. It’s cool on your tongue, feeding your dehydrated body. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You refill the cup, taking your time with the second glass.

“Nurse Lady,” Ellie says. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“She’s got a name,” Joel glances Ellie’s way.

She looks at you with an eyebrow raised. You shake your head, winking at her. “Hopefully I’ve got an answer for you,” Joel mutters under his breath. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering…” Ellie chews on her lip, her frame showing less confidence than it did seconds ago. “Do you think- Never mind.” She shakes her head. “Forget I said anything.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Well hold on. Now you’ve got my curiosity piqued. What is it?”

Ellie’s eyes dart from you to Joel, back to you, and then to the floorboards. Her boot scuffs at the hardwood.

“Ellie,” Joel says.

She sighs. “I know you don’t have a lot of equipment or anything, but…” She stops for a second, seeming to weigh the words in her head. “But I was wondering if you could look at my blood. Just to see if you can find anything in it.”

“Ellie… I-” You say.

“I know it’s a long shot.”

You search for the right words. There are none. There wasn’t a cure for fungus before- and even if there were- you didn’t have the tools or even the abilities, but she looks at you with so much hope and need.

“The fireflies said there wasn’t a cure,” Joel says, shortly. “And they had a bunch more resources than Jackson.”

“I know but-”

“There’s no cure, Ellie. Let it be.” Joel snaps.

Ellie looks at you, her stubborn streak kicking in even as the hope in her eyes dwindles. You can’t tell her no. You won’t give her false hope, but you won’t tell her no.

“Look…” You glance at Joel and then back to her. “There was no cure for this kind of infection before. I don’t have the tools or the knowledge or training or any of the shit you need to create any kind of cure.” Ellie’s shoulders fall as she waits for the inevitable. “But if you come to the clinic tomorrow- I’ll take some blood.”

“Really?” A spark returns to her eyes. You feel Joel’s mood shift behind you, gathering the impression that he is not a fan of this idea.

“Yes, but please don’t expect anything. Okay? About all I can do is look at it under the microscope.”

Ellie nods, but you see the excitement growing in her small frame despite your warning.

“Dinner’s ready,” Joel says, pulling a pan off the stove.

You look at him, but he’s focused on transferring the food to a serving bowl. Deep lines set in his forehead. You don’t even have to ask to know that he doesn’t like this. You just hope it won’t hurt Ellie more when it doesn’t work out.

Joel loosens up throughout your early dinner, and by the time you finish up, he’s laughing. You feel warm and fuzzy like you’re riding a nice buzz. It’s a welcome change from this morning and the weight this day carries. In some ways, it reminds you of the family dinners growing up as you celebrated your twin brothers’ birthday, laughter and smiles filling the room until it spills into the outdoors.

Eventually, Carter pulls Ellie off to his room, blabbering on about cars and space. Their playing echoes off the wall of your home as you help Joel with the dishes. It’s a welcome change. It reminds you of all your stolen plans. Two kids- three if biology would allow it- and a house so contagious with love and laughter it infected the whole street. The old dream is like a siren's call lulling you out further and further in until you drown. Oddly enough, you don’t care. The slight spike in your anxiety is quickly overridden by Joel’s easy presence.

He hands you another dish to dry. “You gonna tell me why you’re upset I agreed to look at Ellie’s blood?”

“I’m not upset.” Joel bristles slightly, but you keep your eyes trained on him. You know he’ll tell you. He cares too much about Ellie not to. “Don’t want to get her hopes up is all.”

“Bull shit.”

He sighs, rinsing another plate before handing it to you. “You didn’t have to tell her last time it didn’t work.” He pauses. He won’t meet your eyes as he shifts from foot. You feel like he’s withholding something, trying to decide what he should tell you. “She looked like there wasn't a reason for her to be here anymore. She’s been off since we got back because of it, and you just ignited that spark again.”

“And what if it works, Joel?” You don’t believe it will, not for a second, but Joel’s attitude makes you defensive.

“And when I have to deal with the fallout again?”

“I set beyond reasonable expectations.”

“And she brushed them aside.” Joel’s words start to rise in volume.

You match it. “She said It herself. She knows it’s a long shot.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What’s this really about? This feels like a lot more than protectiveness.” You cross your arms.

Joel sighs, rubbing his temples with sudsy hands. “I don’t remember you being this stubborn 20 years ago.”

The words set off a wildfire inside you. Heat spreads inside your chest, eyes growing wide with rage. “A lot changes in 20 years.” You throw the dish towel down. It smacks against the counter with a solid thwack.

You storm out of the house, seeking the calming effects of the outdoors. The ups and downs of the day hit you like a semi-truck. Your knees buckle, sending you to the stairs. You don’t feel like crying, but you sit there with your head in your hands, reeling.

You’re not sure what exactly about Joel’s words set you off. The expectation of being the same person you were before the world ended? Or the disregard for everything you’d been through in the past two decades? Or maybe it was the fact that it was just an asshole thing to say.

After a few minutes, when your heart rate returns to normal and the angry heat has begun to seep out of your body, Joel eases next to you. You keep your eyes pinned straight ahead.

Neither of you speak. A breeze sneaks around you, raising goosebumps. A couple of kids play in the street a few houses down. A bird chirps, hopping across the ground in search of grubs. It chirps and flits up to its nest where you know 3 baby birds lay.

Joel inhales deeply, rubbing his hands together. “I’m sorry… for what I said.”

“I can’t live with expectations of being who I was 20 years ago, Joel.”

“I know, and that’s not fair of me.”

You nod, unsure of your next words. You’re going to forgive him, you already know that. His warm hand settles over your knee. He squeezes it softly and you can’t help but lean into him a little bit more. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Joel stiffens a little bit. He tries to hide it, but you’re starting to pick up on his mannerisms again. They’ve hardly changed in 20 years.

You place a hand over his. “You don’t have to tell me what it is if you don’t want to.” You finally look at him, gathering his strong profile.

His Adam's apple bobs slowly. He’s told you a lot these past couple of months as you lay in bed. Sometimes, you stayed quiet as he talked about what he did to survive, and things inside the QZ, sometimes you joined in, but you know there’s more to his story. There’s more to your own story.

“One day.” He says. “Not now.”

It’s enough for now. It’s more than enough really. He’s already further than you thought you would let someone in again.

“Okay.”

He leans over, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Wanna go for a walk?”

You shake your head. “Not tonight.”

He furrows his brow. You stand up, holding your hand out. Taking it, he rises to his feet following you back inside. Bare feet pad against the hardwood floor. Ellie and Carter’s conversation drifts down the stairs filling you with a sense of comfort you’ve never felt before. You turn on the old record player and a warped copy of Rumours, skipping to the second track. It was one of the few things you brought with you from your grandparent’s house when you moved into this pocket of remaining civilization. The volume is up just enough to set the atmosphere.

Joel sits on your couch and you ease beside him, feet tucked under you with your head on his shoulder. His fingers brush along your shoulder. The grief you woke up with still lingers. Between the low hum of Dreams, Ellie and Carter’s faint noise, and Joel’s breathing, your eyes droop. For the first time next to Joel, slumber calls your name, and you answer.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #woman (joel miller)#woman (joel’s version)#pedro stories #pedrostories #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #hbo tlou #pedro boys #pedro pascal fanfiction

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alientee · 5 months

Text

This is rated 18+ just in case minors don’t interact Maugaxreader

🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋

I’ve had Mauga brain rot since he came out and there not enough fan fiction for me so I’m weighting this because it’s a funny thought I had in my mind I may even make it into a series. Reader is AFAB. Mauga x reader, some fluff, just a lil smut (barley) maybe more in the future enjoy!!!!!

You were relatively new to overwatch, but you were strong. The team knew you had their back, and that’s all that mattered; it also helped you have omnikinesis. But you couldn’t control it that well; you were unstable.

That’s why you reached out to overwatch, to control yourself before you hurt the others around you again. It’s a good thing they found out about you before talon or who knows what could have happened?

Speaking of Talon, you are having a team fight against them now. They tried to destroy another omnic and human peace event. Some of the richest humans and omnics were attending.

So you, Ana, Mei, Winston, and Lifeweaver were on guard duty. And lo and behold, here comes Sigma, Sombra, Reaper, Moria and some other big guy you didn’t know to ruin the party. Everyone began to run around in the grand dining room.

Sombra was hacking communications, so you couldn’t check on your backup. Mei and Ana were dealing with Reaper, and Moria, Winston, and Lifeweaver were dealing with Sombra and Sigma. That left you with the hulking, raging giant with tribal tattoos.

You quickly dodge his machine guns, using everything around you in the room as a shield. You quickly hide, trying to regain yourself; if you lose focus, you lose control.

“HEY HEY HEY WHERE DID YOU GO?!”

You hear smashing and bullets flying, trying to think of a plan in your head.

“EITHER YA COME OUT OR I START SETTING SHIT ON FIRE YOUR CHOICE HAHAHA!”

“Ok your completely insane” You whispered

You snuck around the hulking hot head. You hype yourself up to do a sneak attack that hopefully won’t take down the whole building. You focus on all the skylights and chandlers, bringing them down on top of the hulking man before jumping on his back, ready to detain him.

Until you were encased in darkness.

You find yourself squished by the man who was trying to kill you just moments ago. You were lying on his chest and straddling his waist while he was scrunched up and bent forward. You look up at him, seeing the snarl on his face.

“Ummmmmm hi there” , his eyes narrowed at you.

“What the fuck did you do!”.

You look at him startled and confused. “What do you mean I thought this was you?”

He looks like he’s about to yell at you again untill you both hear somthing.

“(Y/N)! Can you hear me!” It was Ana “YES!”

“Sigma got you two stuck in there!”

The large man shouted right in my ear while his chest rumbled underneath me. “HE DID WHAT!”

“Ah Mauga my friend would you like to hear about my new project. I was trying to trap the other one but you’ll make a great tester as well!” you could hear the collective sighs outside.

“It’s a black cube! One could say it’s a miniature black hole, but not a black hole at all, just a void in cuboid shape. It’s supposed to hold matter and keep it stabilized in place. It’s purpose is to hold things until it fully disappears on its own. Can you hear the melody within the universe? ”

You could feel the man named Mauga stiffen beneath you, you stiffen as well.

“Does that mean we dissapear to!” You scream

“Hmm possibly or maybe it will disappear without you in it the possibilities are endless.”

Your about to speak again when you hear Mauga grunt, you look up seeing him move his head down, that’s when you realize it’s shrinking now.

“It’s shrinking now!”

“Don’t worry (Y/N) given the circumstances we will work together until your both out”

“Don’t die in there Mauga I still have use for you” You shiver hearing Moria speak in such a way it’s gross.

You look up and see Mauga looking annoyed and uncomfortable “I’m sorry”

“Why you didn’t do nothing”

“It’s just that, if it shrinks without disappearing you’ll die. I could probably protect myself if I think of a way but I don’t know how it would affect you I can’t fully control my powers.” All he does is hum in response.

“(Y/N)! Can you use your powers to force the cube open!” Now that’s and idea but before you could even think about it Sigma speaks again.

“If you try to force a black hole to seperate it may disrupt everything around it destroying us all”

but sigma speaks again “But if she uses her powers and makes a black whole within a black hole?”

“Then Mauga dies, it would be such a waist but it may be an easier option” Moria spoke again, you could see Mauga rolling his eyes “Fuck you”

You look back up at Mauga you can still see the cube slightly shrinking again. “Mauga who are you?” He looks at me confused not saying a word. You sigh and speak again.

“If I’m going watch someone die in a cube I at least want to know them.”

You can’t help but stare into his eyes; he looks very handsome. Just something about him being a giant hunk of muscle with a sharp tooth smirk had you enticed.

He looks at you and puts a smirk on telling you the basics: he fought a war, he got two hearts, he lives his life as he pleases, and the rest is history.

You learned he liked video games, he takes pride in being strong and actually works out, letting you know he’s not an experiment with Moria, he’s a hot head but he’s passionate, and you even learned you both own a pair of shark slides.

The cube really did seem to be some type of black hole because you lost track of time and talked for what seemed like hours.

“Since you wanna know me so bad you mind doing me a favor” you nod looking at him

“If I die in here do something for me” You stiffen and look away sadly; you didn’t want to think about him dying in here, especially being responsible for someone’s last wishes.

You may be able to save yourself with your powers, but not at the expense of Mauga's life. You could only hope you would get out before then.

“I need you to tell Bap that I was mad at him for trying to blow me up and for leaving me behind. I was willing to drag his ass back; I missed him. Tell him the next time he grows a conscience, don’t skip out on your friends.” You looked at him confused, but nonetheless agreed.

“Ummm ok I’m not even going to get into that, is that all” He looks away and ponders “Make sure my turtle plush and guns are buried with me to and make my funeral a celebration of me not some sad ass drag of a day”

“Considering we’re technically supposed to be enemy’s I don’t think I’ll be able to plan that who knows what they’d do to your body, but I’ll try my best”

“That’s all I ask”

We stare into each others eyes what seems like forever. Until he leans down more moving his forhead to mine “One more thing?”

You look into his eyes shyly looking away when his gaze got to intense. He looks at me giving me a wink and that damned smirk of his. “What is it?”

“I always said if I died, I’d be on my terms. I wanted go out happy with a gun in each hand and a smile on my face. But right now I think the only thing that could make me happy is if I was taken care of by a beautiful lady?”

You blush looking at him with wide eyes “Are you asking me to have sex with you!?”

“Can’t really do that in this position doll” He’s laughing his ass off, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Then what do you mean?”

He looks down your breast and you blush getting and idea of what he wanted. “If you could let me lay my face in those big tits of yours that’s a way to go” he smirks.

You feel your blush go from your face to your neck. “We don’t even know if your going to die Mauga, they could be done getting us out any minute.”

You listen outside to see if I can hear anything.

“We are not destroying the cube Moria!”

“Why not Mauga can be replaced and that girl can cause the destruction of our universe she’s a liability and a threat”

You could only mumble under your breath. “Your ugly face is a liability and a threat to everyone’s day and stomach”

You hear Mauga chuckle. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure to fuck up all her lab shit if I get out of this”.

You noticed his words if. And you couldn’t deal with that. If he died you’d have been to useless to stop it and in that moment you didn’t want to think about him dying.

You can see the cube shrinking more but Mauga doesn’t make a sound of discomfort, it’s like he doesn’t want to bother you every time the cube gets smaller.

“Hey Mauga”

“What’s up?”

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and push his face down into your breast. You don’t know what possessed you, but the thought of giving him his last wishes made you confident in your decision.

Mauga snuggles his head in your chest. You hold him there pushing his head down , not wanting him to see your blushing face making this even more awkward.

As if he can sense your distress Mauga motor boats your chest making you laugh. “Hahaha what the heck Mauga!”

“Just enjoying my new home. I love it here.”

He pushes his face deeper in your breast, inhaling your sent. “Hmmmm I really love it here” You feel him lick your chest.

“Mauga! W-what are you doing”

You pull back to find him looking at you with lust in his eyes and a shit eating smirk.

“You looked nervous I wanted to break the ice. I want you to enjoy this too. Can I?”

You don’t know if it was the way he looked at you, or because this was the first time you’ve felt a man’s touch like this, or maybe it was the fact that you wanted to help him; either way you nodded your head giving him the green light.

He puts his forehead against yours once more. “I need words sweetie, tell me what you want”

You look down refusing to make eye contact “I want you to touch me Mauga”

He slowly moves in and kisses your lips, his lips are surprisingly soft he pulls back biting your bottom lip. He moves his face down back to your breast, kissing and biting them slightly, leaving read marks on your skin. You use the front of your hands to pull down the top of your dress, thanking yourself the dress you had on didn’t require you to wear a bra.

He looks up at you as he slowly licks around your breast, taking a nipple in his mouth. His hands cant reach your chest so he settles on placing them on your ass.

Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he suckles on your nipple, his tongue flicking against it softly. He gropes your ass, squeezing your cheeks roughly. You can’t help but moan softly in his ear.

He releases your nipple with a loud pop giving the same attention to the other while nibbling it.

You can feel something slightly poke at you. You realized Mauga got hard. He felt so big even behind his pants. You slightly raised yourself to sit on top of his dick and begin to grind on his erection.

Hoping to give him and yourself some relief, your panties were soaking wet from the attention. You didn’t want to think about the wet spot you were about to leave on his pants.

“Fuck~, you feel so good sweetheart.”

You were about to respond but the cube starts to shake rapidly. You quickly pull your dress up and hold on to Mauga. All you can think about is his safety wanting to put both of you in a shield that could protect you no matter what.

And it seemed like your powers agreed. Because the next thing you know, you and Mauga are in a giant bubble floating above everyone.

He’s looking at you with wide eyes his frown turning into a giant smirk. “I made you feel so good you broke the cube huh”

Your embarrassment must have faulted your concentration, because you two instantly fell from the sky. You land on top of him in front of everyone making it even more awkward.

Everyone looked down at you two before you quickly got up and walked towards your team while covering yourself, just incase you didn’t put your dress on quite right. Reaper spoke up

“Next time you all die”

Ana spoke before anyone else “Oh shut up Gabriel I’m sick of the death jokes”

As they begin to leave Mauga turns towards you giving you a wink.

“It was fun sweetheart”. And he walks away with the rest of talons members.

Mei spoke up while everyone else looked at me “Did he hurt you (y/n)?”

“No he didn’t, he’s just messing with me”

They all nodded and we all begin to retreat back to headquarters. You could only guess sombra hacked everything before you even tried to get back up because no one showed. You started to wonder if you’d ever see Mauga again.

That thought alone made you blush. Lifeweaver tapped your shoulder. He gave you a smirk showing you he was laughing at you. You look at him confused wondering what was so funny.

“What is it?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“I hope he wasn’t to rough with you”

You looked at him in horror and confusion how could he even know! You looked down to your chest seeing dark red marks all over your breast.

Dammit Mauga!

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch mauga #mauga #mauga x reader #mauga overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch smut #maugaloa malosi

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amphiptere-art · 8 days

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Can I just point out something again.

How am I supposed to care for the main protagonist in Tsams. When they use the woes of the antagonists for their own entertainment?

I don't care how much better of a person Monty has become. I don't care how much better of a person Moon has become. I get and understand that they have every right and reason to be upset with eclipse and blood moon. They have every right to be angry. But do they have them right to laugh and point out the villain sorrow? Am I supposed to feel happy when they tell me every reason and understanding of why I feel sympathy for the villains as a joke?

This is the epitome of Batman laughing at joker for going insane. There is nothing good about joker being insane. For many villains and hero relationships. None of those heroes laugh at the misery of their villains. They will be angry. They will shout. Hell they might not even feel sympathy for whatever the villain had to go through. I can get that. But most don't play it off as a joke. Most don't go haha, that murderer's brother died. Most don't go haha, You're a little twerp that never should have lived.

Those sentences sure don't feel gratifying or hilarious when said in a void does it? Call me a villain kisser. Call me a moon/Monty hater. Have you wondered why some people would be like that? You can hate the killer but you never laugh at what life brought them there. You can wish for their death but you never celebrate the misery of their lives. You may celebrate their death, But you certainly don't mock about it with an air of jokery to those that are left behind in the aftermath.

There is one thing I get from watching real life crime reviews. People will get angry. People will shoot it in the villain's face. They will celebrate the villain's death with cry's and triumphant yells. But no one looks at their life and giggles. No one flonders their death around family no matter how involved they are. You don't do that. There is usually nothing right with how they were treated, And there certainly is nothing right about packaging someone's death certificate in a present, and handing it over to whoever was closest.

I don't care how sweet or better Monty has gotten. I don't care how different of a person Moon is. I don't care how understanding the soft Sun's anger is. I don't care if puppet is some primal entity who was expecting this from the beginning. I don't care if Lunar's jokes are just an expression of anger. At least he has an excuse. At least it feels like lunar is legit joking out of a fit of anger. Everyone else up there has made plenty of jokes and jabs without some sort of anger to cover it up. Sun maybe. But everyone else? Especially our oh so wonderful Monty?! No! I could get it maybe in the sanctity of his home. In the quiet of his friends. But he literally takes the time to drive these villains out into the light and play with them for a bit.

I feel like I'm being force fed this idea that I'm supposed to be okay with this. Like it's entirely okay to look at a villain's backstory and laugh at it! That I'm not only supposed to celebrate a murderer's death, but also joke about it to their family and friends! Everyone in this goddamn fandom hops and skips around that issue because surely it can't be. Surely I can't look at these wonderful characters I've been voting for for ages, and realize that they're jackasses. But they are promoting the worst behavior I have ever seen. Let's just laugh at the jokes. Let's just jear at the expressions. Let us ignore every possible reason why this is the most fucked up shit.

Because for some reason. As long as they have a reason to hate. They have a reason to joke. And while I might understand it as some sort of self therapy. Talking to the villains about it and even there friends is cruel!

#sams #tsams #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #tmgafs #mgafs #the monty gator and foxy show #monty gator and foxy show #puppet and Monty podcast #pamp #tlaes #laes #the lunar and earth show #lunar and earth show

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

little cute things to remember (because it’s been a while since we’ve done this):

✨ you’re more that the notes or the followers you get: outside of the obvious, sometimes a fic is a grower (it’ll find people in time) and sometimes it’s because people are storing your work away ready to read when they need comfort. your worth isn’t attached to your numbers, it’s your storytelling, your soul and kindness. plus, if you love it, that’s one super fan—and anyone else is a bonus.

🌙 you don’t have to write X to fit in/be seen: just like we don’t eat the same meal every day, people’s interests change. what is popular changes, but what doesn’t change is what makes you happy. so, write that because that means your heart will be in it.

🌾 it’s okay to be nervous about connecting with people you admire: but I promise it’ll be worth it. work up to it, take the time you need, but I promise (from someone who is a chronic worrier and big ball of anxiety) everyone will be just as thrilled to hear from you, as you are to hear from them.

🪴 your process is your process, own it: I see people worry about not posting enough, and those who worry they post too much. your process, your writing, your blog at the end of the day, is yours. if people don’t like it, they know where the unfollow button is. you’re doing amazing, you’re doing what you want, when you want it, with the time you have. don’t let anyone take your shine.

🔑 I don’t think I can write X or Y or Z: that’s okay. you don’t have too. even if they’re wildly popular or it’s your fave character/trope to read, it’s okay if you find it overwhelming to write. but, try. even in private, even if it never makes it online and stays in a private discord with your bestie. sometimes, it’s scary to take the leap, but sometimes it’s also pretty fucking great.

🩷 for my anxious, worrying souls: sometimes, it does feel lonely. it feels like you’re shouting into a void, surrounded by people, but still on the outskirts of the convos, the chats, the places, the fandom. it’s one of two things: perspective—your brain, as wondrous as it is, is also very cruel, and twists good things into bad (like a disney forest that if you go too deep into begins to look eerie) or you just need to find your person. the one you send all your thoughts to, the one who learns all the intricacies of your life, your routine, easily. it can be hard (and intimidating) to find them, but you will. they’re out there, waiting for you as much as you are for them.

☁️ what makes fandom great is not just the works we find along the way, but the souls we find and connect to. fandom is about supporting art, sharing, loving, enjoying, but it’s also about having fun, being in a space you can curate that makes you smile, and doing so with people who get you, who understand why you love that movie (even if it’s not rated that great) and love you for it all the same.

🫂 do what’s best for you: you don’t want to tackle that fic now, that’s okay. you want to change fandoms, that’s okay. you want to take a break and come back. you want to be around, connecting but not writing for a while, that’s super cool. you want to press pause, hide, lurk for a moment, you do you bby. ignore that pressure you feel on your shoulders, it’s not real. those who love your work, your words, your style, your heart will be here. there’s only one you, and if you burn out at both ends, all you’ll be given is a version of you that you’ll look back on and not like to be reminded of.

lots of love,

jo (undercoverpena) 💕

#kind things #jo’s thoughts

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fieldofdaisiies · 5 months

Note

hi hi, did you have a part 2 to your drabble on a request about azriel seeing his ex after he broke up with her a year ago and she’s doing well and he’s almost crying in a cafe?

I think I didn't, but here you go❤️ here is pt. 1

"Azriel?"

With parted lips, he lifts his head, eyes wide open.

"I am sorry, Y/N."

But you don't say anything. You just look at him. Your whole world feels like it is crashing in on you when you see the emptiness in his eyes, there is nothing but void in them.

He is a broken male, and...

"How are you?" you say, ignoring the apology he told you moments before. You don't want to hear it, it only brings back memories you want to forget.

His voice is raspy and your can hear the lie before he even starts to talk. "I'm alright," he says and forces a smile onto his lips. It does not reach his eyes. "You?"

The only thing you can do is, extend your hand, grabbing his and taking it into yours.

He told the story about the scars, why his hands are the way they are – he shared everything with you. You shared everything with him, talked about everything, always, until–

"Sit with me." The hand that is not holding his, pulls out a chair and hesitantly, almost reluctantly, Azriel claims the spot next to you.

"Why?" you ask, and try to search his gaze. He wants to look away, but somehow your force him to hold your gaze. You want to see his eyes, want to look into them, while you are talking.

You want to hear the whole truth now, thinking you really deserve it.

He hadn't fallen out of love, was what he told you back then. It was bullshit, you knew it, but he wouldn't give you another reason.

"I was never good enough for you, Y/N," Azriel says in a low voice.

"But that was–"

"That was the reason why I ended things between us. You deserved so much better. You do. I am not a good male, not the male you deserve. Not the male you should spend the rest of your life with. You–"

You are outrages, and then hold he now has on your hand is the only reason why you stay seated. Otherwise you would have jumped out, thrown your hands up in despair and shouted at him.

"You are a huge idiot!" your voice is loud and you don't care if the people around you can hear you. "I loved you so much, I still do until this day. You were everything to me. I was happy because I had you in my life. You made me happy. You were the male I wanted to spend my whole life with."

Azriel's lips part a little, his eyes widening.

"But I am–"

"So good. I loved you so much. You, for your big heart, for how soft you could be, for how protective you were. For how much fun I had with you, for how much you loved me."

You feel tears creep into your eyes and now also place your second hand over this. "I hate that you don't feel worthy of me because this is bullshit. You are worthy of me, you deserve me and my love, as much as I deserve you and your love."

He moves his hand over yours, now all your hands holding onto each other. "I am a huge fool, huh?"

"The biggest," you huff. "Bu maybe we have a second chance at love?"

@whatthefuckshappeningrn since you also asked for part two ❤️

#azriel x reader #azriel drabble #azriel

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eris-snow · 26 days

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𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, meet in dreams, fluff

We met in a dream. Really? Really. Literally? Literally.

"You're here again."

Bakugou whips around, and he catches your eyes again. It's the same empty void, the same white, endless room.

And you're there again.

Waiting for him, it seems.

"Right back at you."

"You're insufferable."

Bakugou chuckles at that. He loves getting under your skin and loves the challenge you give him. Some people are just delightful to annoy, and you're one of those people.

"Rough day?" He asks, striding closer to you. Your face twists into a scowl, and he laughs at that. You wear your heart on your sleeve, no matter how much you try to mask your feelings.

It takes a second before you respond. "Don't laugh, idiot. You don't look any better."

Bakugou winds his arm up, feeling the ache in his bones. Well, you have a point. Training to become a hero isn't just your average high schooler's day-to-day 7 to 5. His battery is flat by the time he ends the day, and the next thing he knows it's morning again.

But this is a dream, his dream, and this isn't his first time here. The both of you have built mountains, painted cherry blossom trees and created sandy beaches straight from your minds.

"We can make anything," Bakugou says.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You peer at him, a smile forming against your lips for the first time tonight.

You look so good when you smile.

"Well then what are we waiting for, Bakugou Katsuki? Let's get to it."

Bakugou remembers that night standing in grassy fields with you. It was your turn to set the scene, and you brought hazy green and a strong gale with you as the both of you stare at the moon from the grass.

Bakugou likes the feeling of it. the fields stretch on and on, and he feels free, like he could do anything.

"We can make anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

That's what you had first told him when he first dreamt of this place.

People think he goes to sleep early because he wants to keep his sleeping schedule intact, but his biggest motivating factor is his dreams. Dreams instead of nightmares of his kidnapping, dreams instead of the war.

He loves this, so, so much, and he's grown fond of you.

"Where is this?" He asks. You always have a reason for whatever place you take him.

"Nowhere." You tell him, arms cushioning your head as you stare up at the round, round moon. "I just like the wind in my hair the breath of fresh air. It's so wide, so quiet, and it makes me feel like I can do anything."

It's a good 15 minutes of talking before you sit up abruptly, causing Bakugou to do the same.

"What is it?" He asks.

You look at him before tapping his shoulder lightly. Then, without warning, you take off into the night.

It takes him a good 5 seconds to decipher what you just did. "Oi! You little shit, get back here-!"

He runs and runs chasing after your surprisingly nimble self. He can't use his quirk here, and he knows it'd be unfair if he did anyway, you'd never count it.

No matter, he can tag you without it.

Your voice bubbles with laughter as you dodge his attempts, scaling a sakura tree and watching him trying to grab your shoe.

"Catch me!"

Sakura petals drift down as you jump. Startled, he does, but your momentum causes the both of you to collapse on the ground with a loud thump.

You snicker, he sputters, yelling at you.

"What is wrong with you, dumbass? Does the word bruises exist in your vocabulary? What about injury? You're crazy, you know that?"

His ribcage throbs, but in a good way. The weight on him is good, because you're still laughing, and that's all that matters.

"It's a dream, silly. You don't get hurt in dreams." You reply, getting off his body.

"Come on, catch me."

With that you take off again, and he's racing after you, shouting the entire way.

You both do it more often than he'd like to admit. Chasing each other in the grassy fields, you laughing, him shouting, as the wind of eternal spring messes up your hair.

Sprawled on the ground without a care in the world. He loves it. He loves the way you make he feel.

He loves you.

"What are you looking at?"

He glances up, and he sees you hanging lazily from a tree.

You like trees.

Sakura ones, especially.

"You," His lips coil into a smirk, and he grabs a brunch and swings himself up there such that he's right in front of you.

You don't look fazed at all.

He leans in, and the kiss is short and sweet on your lips. You lean in too, and when he pulls back, he settles himself comfortably next to you, bodies comfortably pressed against each other.

"You're blushing," He notes. You try to smack him, but he catches your hand. "Look who's the one getting flustered."

"Insufferable. Downright insufferable." You mutter, yanking your hand out of his grip.

"Says the person who runs around fields for hours at a time."

"Yeah, love you too, asshole." You reply.

We can make anything.

And we did, Bakugou thinks, smiling fondly as holds you closer.

Let him have you, he tells the universe, let him find you.

A remedy for his nightmares, a medicine for his heart.

Catch me, you'd say, and he'd chase you for as long as it takes.

As long as you're here, anytime, anywhere, real or not, it'd be better than just a dream.

Author's note: I was gonna write angst but given the option, my sister chose fluff, so arghh-

#mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #fluff #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugō #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x you

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emira-addams · 1 month

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Dude I asbsplutely loved ur velvette and Odette fic??? And I was wondering you take requests? I was hoping i could request some emilute!! (Emily x Lute) us emilute shippers are starving

Hazbin Hotel - Emily x Lute - Drag Me to Hell

"No!" Emily almost shouted at her sister, while tears gathered in her eyes and blurred her vision. Again and again she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "You can't just kick her out of Heaven. She has nowhere to go, they'd rip her apart in Hell!"

Sera crossed her arms sternly in front of her chest "I'm so sick of Lute's permanent misbehavior!" she scolded. "She's always causing problems. She doesn't go to her appointments with her doctors and her sessions with her therapists. She refuses to take her medication. She bothers the other residents of Heaven, she scares them. She can't control her emotions and she's not seriously trying to get better." Sera sighed sorrowfully. "Emily, I have to think about the greater good for all the residents of Heaven, I'm responsible for all of you and I can't allow Lute's misbehavior any longer..."

"Sera, please... Don't give up on Lute so soon..." Emily pleaded, her voice full of despair. She looked intently at her sister, her vision blurred with tears. "Please, Sera, don't kick Lute out of Heaven... I promise you, I'll make sure Lute does everything you want... I promise, I'll take all responsibility for her!"

Sera's cold gaze started to warm slightly. Somehow she was proud of Emily, her little sister really wouldn't give up on any soul so easily. "All right," she agreed to Emily's suggestion. "But you're completely responsible for Lute and if she misbehaves again, I'll kick her out of Heaven for good..."

"Thank you!" Emily squealed and threw her arms around her sister's neck, hugging her tightly while beaming with joy.

"Good evening, Lute!"

Emily found Lute on the edge of Heaven, sitting silently on the ledge and staring down into Hell. Her shoulders sagged and her legs dangled in the void. Once again, Lute hadn't shown up for one of her appointments.

Too lost in her thoughts, Lute winced, startled. She looked up, confusion reflected in her glassy eyes as she looked Emily up and down. "Hey, Emily..." she greeted the youngest Seraphim hoarsely. Her voice rasped with dust, so rarely had Lute used it recently. "Can I help you?" she asked politely. She contorted her face into a grimace and made an effort to smile for Emily.

"No," Emily replied bluntly, joining Lute on the edge instead.

"Why are you here?" Lute wanted to know quietly, her voice wavering and the hand in her lap trembling. She was looking bad. Black circles under her eyes formed a stark contrast to her sallow skin, she was terribly pale and her body trembled. Golden blood stained the bandage around the stump of her left arm; it had probably not been changed for days.

Emily sighed sadly. "I'm here to help you..." She put her hand on Lute's remaining one to stop her trembling. "We all want to help you, the doctors and the therapists... So tell me, why are you skipping your appointments?"

"I don't know?" Lute shrugged her shoulders, slowly lowering her heavy head to rest on Emily's shoulder. She enjoyed her warmth, while the sun disappeared behind the horizon, the black of the night bleeding into the golden glow. Bright stars shone above them. "Every time they sit in front of me and look at me so disapprovingly with their stern gazes, analyzing my symptoms superficially and claiming so confidently that they know what will help me. As soon as my hour is over, they shoo me out the door with empty words of encouragement and a plastic bag of medication to numb me..." Lute tilted her head back, looking longingly up at the stars. "You know, Emily, if I take these pills, my whole world will go numb. If I don't take the pills, then I feel the faux pain in my missing arm, and if I still can feel the pain in my arm, then my arm is still attached to my body, right?" Lute laughed bitterly, glistening tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto Emily's hand. "Then it never really happened, I am still an exorcist and he's still with me. If I don't take the pills, I'll still hear his voice and I'll still see him standing in front of me. I don't want to take these pills, please, because if I do, I'll really lose him..." Lute looked to the ground. "With these pills it's too true to be good..."

"Oh, Lute..." Gently, Emily squeezed her hand. Emily never saw Lute cry before and she couldn’t do much against her tears, so she intertwined their fingers while her other hand gently turned Lute's chin towards her, coaxing her to look at her. "I'm sorry, but you can't just suppress reality for ever..." Emily leaned her forehead against Lute's as fine fingertips ran tenderly over her cheekbones, wiping away the stray tears again and again.

"I can try..." Lute whispered, while she lost herself in her eyes.

"You can’t just give in to your inner demons so easily." Emily shook her head. She saw the pain in her eyes. She heard the pain in her voice. "I won't let you to, Lute, I promise..."

I have never written Emily and Lute, but I hope, you like it! It was fun, maybe I will continue this idea?

#hazbin hotel #my writing #ao3 #fanfic #request #emily #hazbin emily #hazbin hotel emily #emily x lute #emilute #lute #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #sera #seraphim #hazbin sera #hazbin hotel sera

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