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dalliancekay · 2 months

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The 'Aziraphale Still Believes in Heaven' Take

Is one that I see so often. Too often. The way many fans (still) say Aziraphale is so naïve, he's never learned anything, he never changes, Metatron just offered him a promotion and he happily jumped on it. Happy to go back to Heaven. Still in their clutches. Leaving Crowley behind. Cos nothing lasts forever. Amirite? Poor long-suffering Crowley. So patient. Goes through so much. Aww. Takes that say that because Crowley never told Aziraphale about the venom in Gabriel's "Shut your stupid mouth and die already", Aziraphale has no idea that Heaven is not the good guys, that he still believes they are on the side of truth and light.

Takes that claim Aziraphale wants Crowley to come to Heaven and be an angel again so they can be happy like in the good old times. Takes that basically say that Aziraphale is stupid. And blind. LISTEN Do you mean this Aziraphale:

Who knew before Crowley did that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, that things are wrong and one can get in a lot of trouble for a thing as minor as a suggestion to improve things. Is this the Aziraphale that would seriously suggest to Crowley, who he was immediately deeply anxious over, to go back to 'good old times'? What good old times? How is Heaven a place of light when:

A bunch of angels comes down to Earth to bully and PUNCH ONE OF THEIR OWN?

Why would he think they are the light when they shame him for being who he is?

Yes, I HC is that ultimately, Aziraphale still believes in God, in Her inherent goodness, even if Her tasks were often odd... and not lining up with what he thought was right. He thinks (remember my own HC) something somewhere went wrong with the what She wanted and the how it was understood and executed. And yes, Aziraphale wants to do good. But that's not tied to him being an angel. And it's not a bad thing ffs! Crowley does good as well. Aziraphale might be the only one who knows, but he knows. Maybe getting humans out of the Garden to seek knowledge was always a (certainty) possibility, and maybe not, but it was Aziraphale's decision to arm them.

And She didn't make him Fall for it. And do you remember when:

Aziraphale first openly questioned that Heaven was actually doing what God actually wanted? He had a think after the Flood, didn't he. He did what he thought was right. He trusted Crowley over his fellow angels, with his own sense of rightness. He and Crowley saved the kids that Aziraphale triple checked the Archangels saw no problem in letting die to make things easier. And She didn't make him Fall for it. In Edinburgh:

Az re-evaluated the thinking he was taught and did a full 180 degree turn, trying in few hours to save the grave-robbing girl AND the possible future lives of children that could be helped via more learning. And when we come to Metatron and his threats, we don't see the full conversation, but don't we see enough? Aziraphale says that he's not interested. Metatron keeps nagging at him. Pushing the symbolic coffee from Coffee or Death at him. Flattering him with obvious untruths. After all, Aziraphale knows what Heaven thinks of him. He tried to reason with Metatron before. Metatron tells him they know how deep his disobedience lies:

Aziraphale is not a fool. He knows this is an offer of come quietly or we will find a way to destroy you and your demon this time. Aziraphale didn't have to hear Metatron's quip of: "For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." He knows the system is rotten. He knows for a LONG time. Did you see his face when he met Muriel and realised what a lonely sad existence they lead.

AND Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale despite the fact that he's being used to get out of trouble, being made to listen about random things the angel enjoys from symphonies to food and plays, and who continues to believe in goodness and kindness. CROWLEY LOVES AZIRAPAHLE BECAUSE OF THOSE THINGS AND because he sees Aziraphale for what he is, an angel who thinks for himself, changes his mind, learns, angel who is brave, who stands for the right thing, who sacrifices his own happiness for the safety of others, especially the demon he loves. They are the same. They are lonely. They are one of a kind. And they love each other.

Aziraphale wants to stay at home. In the home he built for himself and Crowley. On Earth where he's found so much to love. But he knows it is impossible. As Crowley confesses his love, Aziraphale struggles to stay on his plan to push him away, to make him stay. He'll miss Crowley terribly. He wants them to be together. For him, they were an 'us' the whole S2. However tenuously. Fragile existence and all that.

But even this was ripped away from him. And whatever he's planning, he knows he needs to do the first steps on his own. He can't submit Crowley to the torture that being in Heaven is going to be for him, an unwanted, despised angel. And that would be even worse for an unwanted demon. He had to push him away.

So he leaves. Furious. And determined. Whether it is to burn the place down or find God and ask Her all the questions to Her face I don't know. But his love will push him through.

And if I see one more simplistic take of the snarky demon is really good isn't he, so that means the stuffy angel is bad (and needs to change to be worthy of the demon) I will curse their dreams with lines about shades of grey. AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY ALREADY LOVE EACH OTHER

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #neil gaiman #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #good omens thoughts #aziraphale my beloved #aziraphale is such a bastard #aziraphale defense squad #good omens meta #hc #the final fifteen #season 2 #kaypost

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yandere-toons · 5 months

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Matthew Patel

Romantic Headcanons – Yandere

WARNING: violence, death, implied stalking, mentions of religious concepts, toxic mindset.

From the moment you invite Matthew into your life, he will carry that memory to his deathbed. The bond you forged that day is unbreakable and immortal for him: he will go blind to all other reasons for living, consumed with rage at your absence, and ecstatic at any sign of your favour.

Talk of other suitors sends Matthew into a frenzy from which he will not emerge until this obstacle to his happiness is laid low. Dispute over the value of certain traits leaves Matthew resentful—of himself for not being better, of the other person for possessing what he lacks, and of the universe for cursing him with such horrid luck.

When such a person speaks your name, Matthew is driven by his own insecurities to loathe them. The sound of their voice becomes like a cheese grater to his ears, a reminder of how close he is to losing his world for the second time, and from thence into a sound he will fight to the death to silence.

The look of this person, particularly when they light up at the mere mention of you and receive such a look in kind, is a ghastly thing. Matthew's takeaway is one of doubt and bad memories, of all the similarities to Ramona's waning interest that he had been too immature and inattentive to rectify. He vows not to make the same mistake twice.

Seemingly overnight, Matthew transforms from a brooding presence lurking in your shadow to a wellspring of offers to solve even the smallest of issues. He makes a habit of dropping to one knee and delivering a Pagliacci-esque soliloquy about how deep his affection runs, professing that you've become his whole world and that to lose you would leave him with nothing.

Despite your promise not to "betray" him, as Matthew so graciously puts it, he fears it would be a mistake to let his guard down. He believes you were sincere at the time, but Ramona's flippant attitude has left him anxious that you may change your tune and turn your back on him for no apparent reason.

For years, Matthew sought answers as to why she hurt him: on bad days, he blames her for playing with his emotions; on worse days, he blames himself for not trying hard enough to become someone she wanted. Now that he has another shot at human connection, this earth will burn before it slips away from him.

Matthew's actions arise from a peculiar sense of justice: he views himself as retribution sent down upon all those who have wronged you. By daring to replace him, their way of looking after you is inherently and unforgivably flawed. Someone who could, in reality, be quite decent will devolve in his mind into a parasite who takes advantage of you.

Whether they are cruel or kind-hearted, what obsesses Matthew and keeps him stewing for potentially years is the notion that they've robbed him of his one chance at happiness. So long as they keep you company, he sees his future darkening.

What should be a private affair, Matthew turns into a spectacle: he takes to the stage in his most flamboyant attire and declares war, goading his enemy to meet their doom at his hand. Everything, from the venue to the battle itself, is a power play, a performance art in which he displays his prowess for all to admire and envy.

Once he has struck the first blow, there is no version of events where Matthew shows mercy or admits defeat. The harder they fight, the prouder he is to butcher them. Their death will be a triumph, a testament to the fact that he is strong enough to win this war. Anyone who rolls over in the face of his challenge must not be truly committed to you and therefore deserves to feel his wrath for stringing you along.

Coming to over the shiny remains of his enemy, Matthew forgets his rage and revells in the thought of having the sole being who brings him happiness. Ready to pick up where he left off and confident he's earned that right, Matthew throws himself at you and proclaims how thrilled he is to be together again.

Matthew struggles to move beyond the past and to envision a future where he is alone. Having spent much of his life pursuing others, Matthew has no concept of living for himself. He stakes his survival on the volume of applause at the end of every performance, and in the home environment, his tendency to cling to petty recognition has taken root in all interactions.

This emotional hunger reveals itself in the unnecessary extremes to which Matthew proves his devotion, convinced that the obsequious nature of his company and continual sacrifices gives them meaning. He jumps at every opportunity to be near you, no exceptions, afraid that missing even one will be termed neglect and spell the ruin of his life with you.

At his best, Matthew is an unrelenting thespian who serenades you with ballads and calligraphic poetry. But at his worst, he is an unstable and violent creature full of pent-up rage, who conspires with Daemonettes to bind your soul to his, making it virtually impossible to give him up for another.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

#Matthew Patel #Scott Pilgrim #Scott Pilgrim vs the World #Scott Pilgrim Takes Off #Imagines #Reader Insert #Yandere #X Reader #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere x You #Yandere Headcanons #Gender Neutral Reader #Scott Pilgrim x Reader #Matthew Patel x Reader #Yandere Scott Pilgrim #Yandere Matthew Patel #Yandere Writing #Fanfiction

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gremlingottoosilly · 29 days

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mafia!reader x mafia!konig where they’re from rival groups and heeeeyyy guys check it out who we have as a hostage!

(yes that hostage is ambiguous)

You can fool yourself enough that you're smart, that you're capable, that you won't ever get too cocky when your prey is right in front of you...but honestly, seeing Konig, leader of The Fucking KorTac, bound to the chair in a tort... interrogation room, is far too alluring. You never saw the guy before - always thinking he is like a ghost. Not the Ghost, that guy was pretty well known and seen by everyone, but a ghost. Apparition, urban legend, something straight up from those freaky German fairytales. The guy is big, wears a fucking bag over his head, and no one, who saw his face, ever lived to tell the tale.

No one before you, of course. Honestly, you don't have a reason to hate him. You're just a little cog in the big mafia machine, nowhere near enough the boss levels. You never as much as saw his top dogs in action, not even speaking of the man itself - but, he got sloppy. But, you got lucky. A group of unimportant thugs and "tax" collectors, you never thought you could catch the leader of an enemy group lacking. He was at the bar, chatting up with you - admittingly, you were too dumb to know who he was, at first, so you just did the usual. Chat up with an already drunk guy at the fancy bar, flash a little tiddy, make consistent eye contact, and caress his hand to distract him from all the shit you're pouring into his drink. The plan was to rob this guy blind, but then your colleagues came over and freaked out. You accidentally snatched up the leader of the most dangerous family in the city. Looking at him all bound in the small chair, it's almost obvious how much of a human he is. Not a myth, not a monster. A guy, a big guy, who smells of expensive cologne and sweat with a bit of blood. And he is waking up. The next thing you know is the ears-shattering crack of the chair as he lifts himself with ease. The second thing you know is the way his hands are going over your neck, squeezing just right to make you whimper. Then he suddenly stops, looking you in the eyes, your gang members too terrified of the guy who could effortlessly get out of the fucking handcuffs. He laughs. The monster of this city just told you that he is going to get what he is paying for all the way back into the bar. You think you hear your teammates screaming - but it all blurrs down with gunshots, yelps, and the pounding in your head as Konig pushes you against the wall. He picks you up later, a broken doll in dirty thief clothing. He says he would make you a proper lady. His lady. You almost wish you were smarter and killed him before taking his money in that fucking pub.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig

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archtroop · 2 months

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Sometimes I need to remind myself that tumblr is a fringe social network, and is by far not the average. What it is though, is a good sampler of the more extreme, I would say, ideologically swayed. A bit.

The more comments and notes I read from the Free Palestine crowd, the more it gets obvious that these are incapable, useful idiots. Literally, spoonfed couchpotatos at best. Starbucks Boycoyters at worst.

It's like the 00's insecure attention seeking posers, with an amoral, ignorant twist to them.

And they are entirely, ABSOLUTELY useless people.

Some morally rotten such individual wrote me that "Israel deserves what's coming for them, you deserve to die" etc. And it really made me think. What's coming? WHO'S coming? You? You, an unemployed tumblrina? You and what army?

What are you gonna do? Try to kill us all? What's the WORST you can do that wasn't, hasn't been tried already?

Truth is, no one is coming.

You read about this pompous, self indulgent "Palestinian Activism Solidarity ". What the FUCK are you talking about? Where is it? What, SA under IRI at the ICJ?.... Watermelon emojis...? ...Slogans?

The most "affective" actions FreePalestine Movement "achieved" was a few shootings/stabbings/rammings here and there, a hostage situation in Turkey in the name of Palestine (the man was executed on the spot after some negotiations. Turkey, yeah). A few burnt synagogues around the world and a whole lot of terrorized Jews in the Diaspora. Not a single Palestinian benefited. Not in Gaza anyway. To sum it up, what exactly are you gonna do? Blow yourself up in a subway in the name of Palestine? How incredibly unoriginal and unhelpful. Although expected and unsurprisingly fitting to the roots of the movement, I'll give you all that.

No one is coming. A lot of pakapaka from Nassrallah and Co. and a radio silence from the Arab world.

Iran pulled the Houthies out of their boydem only for Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Jordan to reluctantly push the button to down Houthie ammo flying towards Israel. Houthies "asked" of Saudi Arabia to "let them cross over to fight the Zionists", and not only this is a joke, a caravan of sandals-wearing, AK-47 totting, Houthie caravan crossing Saudia to do what exactly? Bite Israeli ankles in Eilat Port? Rather It's an insult, to show that "here see we tried", since Saudis are fighting the Houthies FOR YEARS, it was never an actual option to begin with.

Are you blind? No. One. Is. Coming.

After 75 years of trying to erase Israel from the map, the 7th of October unleashed what could only have happened after Israel had its last straw broken.

Congratulations, you've managed at dehumanizing Israelis to the point that you managed to rob us from one aspect of humanity, even if temporarily: our symphaty.

Not forever, but for a period. And when you did so, you WERE LUCKY, for US were here WITHIN MINUTES, being smart enough to talk Israel out from attacking on the freaking spot. Instead, Israel waited 3 damn weeks. For 3 weeks, Israel called for the evacuation of Gazans from the northern side of Gaza.

Symphaty has an expiration date. The 7th of October 2023 was that date. You backed Israel to a wall, and no slogan will suffice against a nation that KNOWS that its very existence was threatened in a very real, visceral, inhumane, and depraved way.

No one is coming. Not for us, not for the Gazans. The Arab world is waiting to see, when will they wake up with one Iranian proxy less on the map. The truth is, aside from the pakapaka all round the clock, Isrsel was left with "do what you do, we wait" kind of global attitude.

Arab nations don't care about Palestinians. They don't care for the Palestinian Cause. Never had. It was always for show, as a pawn. A distraction. And we know it, very well.

The Palestinians are, and always were, used. They were used to carry on this idea that Israel would disappear from the map. If not by force, then by proxy warfare and terrorism, with time. If not by proxies, then by mass protest and public opinion. But the thing is, reality is a material thing. You need TO DO a thing for it TO HAPPEN. And public opinion rarely holds. And for how it's loud, the Free Palestine Movement is nothing but that: Loud.

As for the undoing of Israel and Bney Israel, well. Many have tried.

And oh boy, did the Arab nations TRIED.

They PAYED for trying.

But that's in the past, largely. Now, the annihilation of Israel and the creation of a Palestine is just a cruel pipe dream, with human prisoners, and an international cheering squad. After all, you can't free something that never existed and couldn't form one coherent ideology that makes sense and strives towards a positive, creation-adjacent activity in 75 years of its yappery. It's just not there. If the ideology surrounds destruction, it can not create. It can only destroy.

You may shout your lungs out and make up all kinds of delusional narratives. In the end, they are just that: empty words to make the righteous self of the woke crowd feel better, to feel active. To be a part.

To be USED.

It says a lot about the sad reality of this mass of people. The yearning for purpose, this loneliness. The rootlessness. Loss of identity. Identities so fractured, so incohesive. Loss of trust in the institution. The shallow knowledge. The practically non-existent reading comprehension.

All are easily diverted to create this cult like behavior.

People cry their eyes out over something that not only they have zero way of affecting but oftentimes is inflated, twisted, and presented as something completely false, or fake or what have you, instead of looking around them and doing something about their own realities. Pouring their hearts out over an unreality, fruitless.

This is either willful ignorance or escapism. Can't even say which one is worse.

This mass is being used. It creates a pool of despair, mysery. Feelings of "not enough", of unachievment. Those masses are breeding grounds for terrorism activity recruitment.

One party, one goal.

Free Palestine is a magic combination of words. You would ask, what is it? And they would sell you, ah, it's this magical place over the rainbow far, far away, and you can be the savior of those people. What a beautiful fantasy. Except you can't save those who did all their best to commit a slow, painstaking suicide, over 75 years. It's unrealistic, whatever this so-called "movement" is yapping about. There are no outlines, no strategy. It's just empty, big, bombastic words, to rile up emotionally as many people as possible, who look for a meaning.

I keep remembering the movie The Wave (2008). It's amazing how word by word, scene by scene, the story is playing out right now with worrying accuracy.

I don't know where this will lead Europe, UK, US, Canada... Australia... you all should be on high alert internally. But one thing is pretty clear.

No one is coming. As for Israel... You did your worst already. You have left Israel with nothing to be afraid of.

BDS biggest achievement was the eventual unemployment of thousands of Palestinians from the West Bank. UN is a joke. Red Cross is a joke. UNRWA exposed, visibly and undeniably. Abraham Accords are proceeding, even if slower, yet still they do. HAMAS gets mopped the floor with. And Lebanon has to do the impossible: drag Hezbollah away from the Isrseli border. Otherwise, there won't be much of a Lebanon to speak about in a very short amount of time. And that's not even a threat. It's reality. As government officials in Lebanon plead with Hezbollah to halt, Israel is ready on the border for 80,000 Israelis are internally displaced within Isrsel itself because of the war with HAMAS, but mainly away from the northern border because of constant shelling by Hezbollah.

And it won't hold forever.

And no one is coming.

Because who will? You and what army?

#israel #gaza #palestine #geopolitics #the wave #herd mentality #free Palestine

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cosmicjoke · 6 months

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So I wanted to just take a moment to elaborate a little more on Levi's leadership during the Battle of Heave and Earth, because I think it's so important to understand just how vital Levi was to that final battle and, ultimately, toward the alliances' victory. Everyone was vital, of course. Everyone contributed in ways indispensable. But I think Levi's role was particularly crucial, and I want to explain why.

They wouldn't have won without Levi.

Full stop. They wouldn't have won.

I spoke before about how so often we've heard criticisms of Levi and his choice to let Erwin die, accusations hurled at him of having "robbed" humanity of the only leader that could save it, and I spoke about how those accusations, in the aftermath of Levi's contribution to that final battle, fall so utterly flat, because Levi became the leader that humanity needed in the moment when it counted most.

Armin was out of commission for most of the final battle. Of course he was doing his own, important work toward ensuring victory by convincing Zeke to stop wallowing in self-pity and actually do something (Zeke gets no credit from me, he let 80% of the population die because he felt sorry for himself). But my point is, Armin, despite being the Commander, wasn't able to lead during most of the battle because he was trapped in the Paths.

Levi took the reigns, then, without even needing to be asked or told. He simply took command, and it was his decision making that lead to their victory.

But before that, he fought alongside all of them as simply another soldier, putting his body and life on the line to take down as many titans as he could in the attempt to clear a path back to Armin. Levi was literally half-dead during this battle. His body was beyond compromised. He was suffering internal bleeding, likely major trauma to his organs, half blind, his dominant hand half-mangled, and later, his leg likely broken and torn apart and open. His ability to fight, and to fight so well and with so much strength, was nothing, then, but pure will on his part. Pure determination and refusal to quit. He never gave up, not once, despite his body needing him to.

When he sees the tied of the battle not going their way, then, a path back to Armin seemingly impossible, he takes charge and calms everyone down, tells everyone to stop and think. When it becomes clear that they won't be able to simply retrieve Armin and win this thing, when it becomes clear that killing Eren is the only way to actual victory, Levi is the first to organize everyone into accepting that bleak and awful reality, and to lay out a plan of attack toward accomplishing it. He breaks their team into two units and instructs them on what to do, one to go after Armin, the other, Eren's neck. This was Levi's plan, Levi's decision, and it's largely why they were able to succeed in their goals.

And then later, when he heartbreakingly thinks of himself as a burden, as someone who will just get in the way, he disproves his own self-criticism by stepping up and once again taking command in what truly was the most critical moment of the battle.

He takes out Zeke, of course, which stops the Rumbling. But then Armin's initial plan, of using the blast from his Colossal Titan transformation to kill Eren, fails, and the worm responsible for Eren's power threatens to reach him and start the Rumbling back up. It begins to release the same gas which Zeke had used on Ragako Village to turn the Eldian's into pure titans, and in that moment, with hundreds of Eldian's on the ground, it would have proven the end of the battle for all of them if Levi hadn't acted as quickly and with as much clarity of thought as he had. They all would have died, and the entire population of the world would have been wiped out.

Nobody else realized what was about to happen to them, too dazed and complacent and stricken with hopelessness, even after Connie posited what the gas could be. Only Levi understood what was about to happen, and only Levi took action in that moment to prevent total disaster. And then, while everyone else is standing around, paralyzed by their horror at the realization of what's happening, overcome with grief and fear, in that moment, Levi didn't hesitate. Like he once told the 104th, if disaster struck right now, he would act faster than any of them, and that's exactly what he did.

He understood the situation within seconds, and understood within seconds what needed to be done to avoid total catastrophe. He understood that he and Mikasa and the titan shifters were the only ones who would be immune to the gas, and so it was up to them to take action and end Eren's life, or all would be lost. He understood in that moment that they would be forced to abandon their family and comrades on the ground, abandon them to their fate of being turned into pure titans, in order to save what remained of the rest of the people trapped down there, and he didn't hesitate. He didn't falter. He pushed aside his own grief and horror, his own driving need to save everyone, in order to save who he could, just like he's always done. He armed himself with their only remaining thunder spear and ordered with commanding force for Mikasa and Pieck to get onto Falco's back, for them to take to the air, because he understood on the ground, they would all die, and if they were to have any chance of victory, they needed to be up high. He was able to ignore their stunned and frozen grief and initial refusal to move and act, and overcome it with his own refusal to give in. He made them act in the moment when it mattered most. And when Mikasa was overcome with grief at what was happening and the prospect of killing Eren, Levi refused to let her lose herself, screaming in her face to get it together, reminding her again and again that only they could stop Eren now, only they could save what was left of humanity.

And finally, with his failing body and waning strength, he fought side by side with Mikasa, battling through what seemed literal hell on earth to give her the opening she needed in order to deliver the killing blow to Eren and end it once and for all.

Mikasa wouldn't have been able to do what she did if not for Levi. If not for Levi's quick thinking, if not for Levi's orders, if not for his command, if not for his battling side by side with her, clearing a path for her. If not for his own sacrifice, giving up everything, having to leave behind the people he loved for people he didn't even know. Levi made that final push toward victory possible.

Levi essentially took over for Erwin when no one else could. He took over for Hange when no one else could. He became the Commander of the Survey Corps in that final battle. He became the one who lead them to victory.

I think understanding that is so important. For anyone who ever tries to accuse Levi of not caring about humanity, or accuse Levi of dooming humanity because he let Erwin die, you're wrong, you're so wrong. Because Levi became every bit the commander Erwin ever was in the moment when it mattered most. He refused to let humanity fall. He lead humanity to victory.

#Levi Ackerman #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

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bardandbear · 8 months

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Look, I unapologetically love Raphael BG3 and I will forever be angry how he gets shafted for the plot (even if it is appropriately extra).

I want to ramble about why I love his ego though, because the way he acts hits different if you consider where it might come from. (Literally all the spoilers, obviously).

Raphael is just a cambion - half human, and therefore fallible, to the point that it's one of the first things your level 3 party comments on immediately after meeting him. The actual disrespect!

He's the son of Mephistopheles, who seems to be at best a very absent parent. Despite it being implied that Mephisto knows Raphael is plotting to try and take over the Hells, the most he does to stop it is sending him an incubus to distract him. None of the Archdevils show any other interest in stopping him at any point. There is a good chance that in the majority of playthroughs, the upstart heroes he's been trying to deal with will instead decide to just rob him blind instead of working with him - in no small part because they think they can.

Sure, he writes his own planar domination fanfiction, he's dramatic and ostentatious, but why? No one else takes him seriously. He's just a cambion. He's just Raphael. He has to be his own hype man because literally no one else will be. Mark my words, mans has an inferiority complex at the root of that ego. I, for one, respect the hustle.

#bg3 raphael #bg3 spoilers #bg3 meta #did I think i'd end up with kenough parallels when starting his character analysis?#no #i just have a lot of feelings about raph #he's a fascinating bastard #i both feel bad for him and think he deserves it #root cause of evil: not hugged enough as a child

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signedeclipse · 1 year

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Hello! I was the one with the cannibalism request. 🫣 I really loved the headcanons you wrote! 😊

I would like to make another headcanon request for Kokushibo, Hantengu and Kaigaku with a reader who's blind. They could see when they were much younger, but now most of their vision is lost, and they have difficulty navigating at night. At first they didn't even recognized the other as a demon but were very accepting when they found out. Now they hate to be away from their demon partner and would rather spend every minute with them. I can also see them utilizing their condition to lure in victims (by asking for help) for their demon to eat.

Thank you in advance and I hope you have a great day! ☺️

Hantengu | Kaigaku | Kokushibo [X Reader]

In which their s/o is blind, and helps them lure humans in for eating.

Hantengu

Ever since he met you, alone and lost, he felt pity that you had been left to nothing for something out of your control

Of course, you were just like him, so he would protect you if it meant protecting his own ego

But you were so kind, and you didn't say anything cruel or judgemental to him, he could go as far as to say you depend on him

He liked that a lot, it made him feel special

Being apart of him, the clones didn't touch you either, either amused by your lack of sight, feeling pity, overtaken by anger at those who wronged you, or liking having something so new around

Fortunately all their eyes were different, save for Hantengu and Sekido, so it was easy to tell them apart if not for their personalities

In no way was the Upper four weak, but sometimes he was a bit...scared

He noticed how you attracted people to him, and how easy it was for him to kill once secluded

So you did it more so he could kill, instead of his clones

You empowered him and all of his egos, fueled him and made him far more powerful

God forbid someone you're luring try to harm you, they'd be dead before they can even realise what's happening, and left to rot

Him and the clones don't find trash all that delicious

Kaigaku

He found you quite pathetic all things considered

Lost with no one around, stumbling and trying to find some kind of light so you could gather your bearings

Those electric blue eyes of his, they pulled you into a false sense of hope

But through your words, so unknowing of who he was, you convinced him to humour you for awhile, as if playing a game

Kaigaku gets attached similar to how you do, but far more possessive and jealous

In a messed up way he likes that you can't see well because it means you'll only ever know him best

The fact that only he can protect you and keep you safe gives him a superiority complex, but he rarely beats down onto you about it

Your kindness is hard to combat, but he does act like he hates it

In his months as a demon, it was hard to find people to kill without making a scene, and when you saw him starving like that, you convinced yourself you could bring someone back

And with a false story about someone robbing you, three men were lured into your shared home for the slaughter

He kept it clean so you wouldn't get sick- not that you'd really notice- and since then encouraged the behaviour

Once he heard a group of people bullying you for falling in mud after you slipped

It was the only time he decided to make a real mess, leaving trails of organs across the street for all to see

You had to move but he found a better place anyways

Kokushibo

Kokushibo can be very quiet, so when you call out to him or he feels the need to say something, it usually scares you half to death

Once caught your arm moments from hitting him because you felt something on your neck and figured it was an insect- it was his breath

Tends to be unhelpful because he wants you to adapt as much as you can, and to remain independent

But on the rare occasion he'll allow you to cling to his sleeve and step slowly through darkened places

Might let you get minor injuries from walking into things but he would never allow you to gain a scar

The first time you lured someone, it was an accident

He had left without telling you, and in a panic you yelled out for him while falling

A hunter heard this and came to your aid, but Kokushibo had them handled moments before they even touched you

It happened mostly by accident

But if he was ever weakened, upset, or having trouble getting someone from a crowd?

He'll just say he needs a favour, and then leave you stranded in the street until someone comes prancing

If anyone does the opposite of helping and tries to harass you, he'll make sure their death is prolonged

Consider a thousand deep-ish wounds, so they can bleed out till morning

Authors Note - Honestly so rare for a Kaigaku request which makes me sad cuz ahhh I love him! He's really great and deserves more fanfics... But thank you for coming back Shrew (if i can call you that), your last request was such a hit I think ive written 2-3 extra requests off of it already haha!

Please enjoy and come back soon!

#hantengu #hantengu x reader #kaigaku #kaigaku x reader #kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny #kny x reader #kny headcanons #headcanons #reader insert #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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florencemtrash · 6 months

Text

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Prologue

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Death and mentions of torture

Comment below or message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Also, check out my masterlist if you would like to read my other works.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Another body dropped down from the sliver of cave light that cracked through the darkness. You were like a creature of the deep sea, formless and blind after ages spent under the immense weight of the ocean above you.

But you didn’t have the luxury of being dead along the ocean floor.

No, you were pitifully still alive.

The body hit the ground a dozen feet away from you with a familiar wet crack followed by a wretched moan.

You stood up on shaky feet, one hand pressed against the stone wall to your left as you let the sound of the poor fae lead you forward. It was a male’s voice, low-pitched and gruff in their cries of pain. With the faint light available you could make out the rich scarlet tones of his hair mingling with the blood that ran through the arteries of the floor like a river through a canyon.

“No. No… please.” The voice moaned out.

Pity sang through your chest, a painful but reassuring reminder that you had managed to hold onto scraps of your humanity with tooth and nail. You could only imagine what stories they told of the beast beneath the mountain. The beast that killed the ones who would dare defy the High Lord of Autumn, drinking power from their veins before casting their bodies deep into the stone that traced the borders of Autumn and Winter.

The male tried to scramble away from you. His legs were broken, dragging along the floor as he heaved himself forward.

“Stop moving.” You said, your voice hoarse from lack of use.

The shuffling increased.

“I said stop.”

You finally reached him, feeling your foot press up against his and the heat of his breath warming your legs. He had managed to sit upright, one hand brandishing a rock in warning.

You poured honey and softness into your voice, trying to calm him down.

“I won’t cause you pain. I promise.”

You reached out blindly, searching in the darkness until your fingers closed around his forearm. He weakly pulled away from you, but at the instant that you began to absorb his pain his shoulders slumped forward, all the fight within him leaving his body with a relieved exhale.

“What-what are you doing?” His words were slurred and wet. Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth.

“I’m taking your pain.” You said quietly.

Every word spoken at these depths sounded too loud to your ears, echoing off the silent stone. You winced as his pain became yours, shoving it into a deep corner of your heart where you stored all memories of this evil place.

“It’s one of my talents, if you can call it that.”

The Autumn soldier who’d tried so hard to run away was suddenly melting into your touch, begging you to give him some reprieve. You traced the burned skin of his back with a light touch, erasing the pain like the sea could sweep away footsteps.

“You’re one of Eris’s men, aren’t you?” You asked, although you were certain you already knew the answer, “Beron sends a lot of them down here.”

He nodded, leaning his head against your shoulder. You reached up and combed back blood-matted hair. It was short and blunt beneath your fingertips - cut with a brutal hand. The first thing Beron did was cut the hair of prisoners, robbing them of their appearance and some small measure of their beauty.

“I am.” He said.

“And how long did he hurt you for?”

The male winced, “Seven months.” His heartbeat had begun to slow in his chest now that the pain was gone.

That’s good. You thought quietly to yourself. The last male had been a prisoner for over two years.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, feeling his soul begin to slip away as you drained him of his pain and then his power. It was the only thing that had kept you alive all this time. That and the promise you’d made yourself that if you ever looked upon the High Lord’s face again it would be with a sword against his throat.

“Tell my High Lord…” It took him a long while to gather his strength. He swallowed thickly, “Tell Eris I never betrayed him… If you can.”

“I will.” You promised, feeling your chest clench painfully at his display of loyalty.

“What are you?” The male breathed out and his body went slack.

You buried your face in your hands and began to sob.

A prisoner just like you. A soldier who was too loyal for their own good.

Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note: I always have a difficult time deciding if I'd want to be with Azriel or Eris from the ACOTAR universe. Neither character gets much screentime in the books leaving it to us readers to interpret them to our heart's content.

Around Autumn time, I especially find myself leaning towards Eris and evaluating the flaws and hypocrisy of the Inner Circle/Night Court. This angst-filled, multi-chapter fanfiction was a product of my fantasies about the characters this last month.

I've already written most of it and I am now just in the editing phase, so this project of mine will be updating every week on Wednesday evenings.

I hope you enjoy! As always, feel free to message me or comment on posts. I'm trying to be better about interacting with users on tumblr because you all seem like really cool people and I've enjoyed reading people's blogposts and fanfiction works.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

Note

How about some Yandere Hercules, Thor, Ares, Lu Bu, Rudra, Hades, Qin Shi Huang and Apollo x Hiyori Reader (Leodonis’ Daughter) where she just straight up BITCH SLAPS Apollo for insulting her father

She refuses to back down or bow her head for forgiveness because “I’m a Spartan’s Daughter, I will never back down! Especially when I know I’m Right!”

Underneath her cold, flirtatious and ‘vain’ exterior is a brave, compassionate and selfless woman who cares deeply for others, as she would manipulate any cruel and evil Gods, Humans and Demons with her irresistible beauty for their valuables and power until they have nothing left and give it all up to the people to live better lives

She loves and admires her Father deeply, and won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting him, as she has a high moral code, as her father was a brave and strong man (As she’s a total Daddy’s Girl, even showing her childish and tomboy side when he’s around *As she also tried to drop kick him, one of the moves he taught her for self defense, which he’ll laugh about since he’s glad she can at least defend herself*)

Leodonis is also on the floor cackling after hearing his daughter slap the hell out of Apollo (As her hand print is clear for everyone to see on his face)

-Leonidas couldn’t breathe, death was fast approaching as he held his stomach, never had his abs hurt like this before, even after years of intense workout or even getting stabbed.

-Before him stood a glorious scene, his daughter, who looked like an angel, delicate and soft, was standing over Apollo, who had just got bitch slapped right across the teeth, “I am a daughter of Sparta, worm, and if you insult it’s king, you insult me. And nobody insults Sparta.”

-Apollo was bringing it on himself technically, as the others around you could vouch for, as Apollo was trying to flirt with you, telling you how beautiful you looked and that he couldn’t understand how someone so crash and vulgar could be the father of such an angel.

-You were normally very level-headed and calm, but your papa was your soft spot, even if you would deny it, acting shy about it, you wouldn’t hesitate to throw hands to defend your papa, even though he could do it himself.

-You were known as quite the heartbreaker around Valhalla, but your targets were always cruel people, cruel gods and humans, and you would use your looks and never-ending charm to get in a good position with them, only to rob them blind.

-Many called you a villain and many tried to get you arrested for your crimes, but there were many more who would defend you, as everything you stole, goods, money, food, clothes, and you would always give it to those who needed it but didn’t have it, mainly because those you stole from had taken it or horded it, not distributing it like they were told to do.

-When the investigation was launched, you were actually thanked by so many high ranking gods for finding these thieves, who were punished instead. Many begged you for mercy, but you were cold and unforgiving, “I have no mercy to give to those who deserve none.”

-Many thought your icy nature was alluring, wanting to get to know you in a romantic sense, but in a serious romance, not your typical ones.

-You were always hesitant on making an actual relationship with someone, as you were afraid they would find out about your past exploits and what you’ve done, and you didn’t want to be deemed a loose woman.

-Leonidas would defend you, even if you told him you didn’t need his him, kicking his butt with your foot, telling him to leave, only to make him laugh while others would see your slight tomboy side.

-However, there were times like this where you easily showed your papa and anyone around you, that you were indeed a daughter of Sparta, and the daughter of the king, and you were not to be underestimated by any means.

-Many around were in shock, stunned with wide eyes but at the same time, they were admiring you, you took no disrespect and you slapped a god to the floor, not caring in the slightest that it was done in front of witnesses.

-Holy moly that was HOT!! He couldn’t believe his eyes to watch Apollo flirting with you, the object of his own affections, and then insult your father, and the next thing the sound of a slap is ringing around and Apollo is on the ground, a pulsing red imprint of a hand on his cheek as he lay twitching on the ground. Immediately approached you, asking if you were okay, taking your hand in his own, holding it gently; he was careful because he didn’t want a matching handprint on his own face. You felt your face warm as he held your hand so gently, massaging the palm gently, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself while praising you for making it look so easy. Leonidas couldn’t help but grin, seeing you acting so shy with soft affection, you were so cute!

-Ares, Hades, Hercules, and Qin Shi Huang

-Was in awe, seeing you dispatch a god so easily and with just a slap across the face. It made him curious on how hard you actually hit Apollo. It also made him curious on how strong you actually were; it wasn’t everyday where a woman could drop a god with one hit. Picked you up when you started getting a little feistier then you probably needed to be, wanting to yell at Apollo some more, and they were worried that Leonidas really was going to die from laughing so hard. He was surprised when you went silent, being held princess style before your face immediately went red and you started to push on his face, demanding to be let down. This was an unexpected but enjoyable surprise, seeing you so shy from being treated like a maiden. Leonidas couldn’t help but grin, wiping the tears from his eyes, he knew you could handle yourself, but if you came to him, he had no issues putting someone in their place.

-Lu Bu, Rudra, and Thor

-Stars in his eyes, birds circling his head, and ringing in his ears were all he could recall. He had been speaking to you but had realized, after you disciplined him, that he must have said something rude to you. Could see you glaring down at him, chewing him out but couldn’t hear anything but ringing. You were the whole package, beauty and strength, just like him, and he knew, being a daughter of Sparta, you could handle yourself, you were just like him! He couldn’t help but smile up at you as he became more coherent, hearing Leonidas nearby laughing loudly as well as many others laughing at his misfortune. Apollo beamed up at you, adoration in his eyes as he had never met a woman like you before, “Marry me!” Everyone went silent, completely stunned by the question, however it was your reaction that got more attention as you immediately flushed, holding your cheeks, “What are you saying?! Did I scramble your brains?!” before rushing to your father who was now standing, moving to hide behind him, however, seeing you so shy made Apollo fall even more in love. Now he just needed to convince Leonidas.

-Apollo

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror ares #ror hades #ror heracles #ror qin shi huang #ror lu bu #ror rudra #ror thor #ror apollo

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glitteringcrab · 4 months

Text

Evil Morty and the other Mortys (part 2)

A continuation of this blog.

Theory 7: Internalized victim blaming

Evil Morty is not the only Morty acting extremely harsh to other Mortys. We've already seen random Mortys in the Citadel being jerks to other Mortys.

1) Mortys in Morty Town seem to be particularly aggressive towards Cop Morty. It's unclear if it's because he's a cop (and therefore they're equally aggressive to Cop Rick), or if it's because a Morty accompanied by a Rick. Or if they are aggressive to Cop Rick because he dared enter Morty Town. It could be all of the above.

Cop Morty, in turn, returns the favor.

Here we have a Morty who dares to utter the phrase "Mortys are human!" (I mean... is it a matter of debate?! YIKES)

And he gets (a) called a "Rickless animal" (b) electrocuted for his trouble.

Soon after, we see Cop Morty:

(d) electrocuting another Morty for absolutely no reason:

Note that the derogative insults obviously apply to Cop Morty as well. He, too, is a Rickless Morty, as he keeps making clear that Cop Rick is simply his partner, not his Rick. And he might wear a uniform right now, but at some point in the past he definitely wore a yellow shirt.

2) AT THE SAME TIME, having a Rick is also an insult:

(and things escalate fast)

3) Initially, Cop Morty was capable of overplaying his "Mortyness" to other Mortys...

...who also did the exact same thing to him, before making fun of him:

Mortys are also overplaying their Mortyness to Ricks...

...which apparently is a thing that happens often, judging from Cop Morty's immediate explanation:

Cop Morty tries the exact same technique against his partner... (and it's clear at this point that Cop Morty actually liked Cop Rick... but doing as Cop Rick was asking him to do would have serious consequences for him, so Cop Morty put his own well-being first)

However, Cop Rick is wise to this trick by now, and so he is ready. He shoots first.

4) Mortys are quick to throw other innocent Mortys under the bus, so that they can escape:

Here is a description of the Mortys responsible for the perpetration of the store robbery:

No noteworthy features. Just four normal Mortys.

And here is a picture of the Morty Town Locos:

They have facial tatoos... THEY DIDN'T ROB THAT STORE.

5) Cop Morty is ready to go to extreme measures to erase every trace of the Morty Town Locos:

Do any of the above sound familiar?

Derogative terms to other Mortys...

...including self...! (pretty justifiably though, in this case)

2. Getting angry at the suggestion that he is accompanying a Rick:

3. Overplaying his Mortyness

4. Throwing innocent Mortys under the bus:

5. Going to extreme measures for your own well-being...

They're all textbook variations of the things Evil Morty has been doing.

Which makes sense. After all, if he is one of the many excess clones in the Citadel, then his experiences must be similar to the experiences of the other unwanted Mortys, and they should have similar reactions. The only difference between them is that his actions have been careful, calculated and ultimately successful (and, uh, excessive), whilst theirs have been uncoordinated and heated.

If we take into account all of the above, it seems to me that there might be a lot of internalized victim-blaming among the excess Mortys of the Citadel.

If they partner with a Rick, they're sell-out yellowshirt Mortys who throw away their self-respect in favor of Ricks' interests, who choose to turn a blind eye to all the atrocities Ricks have been committing, who worship an undeserving being all for the sake of a mocking semblance of family, encouraging other Mortys to engage in the same self-destructive act. They want to be a human shield. (They might as well be a human shield, then...)

If they don't partner with a Rick they have very few tools in their disposal to survive. They have to become as ruthless and unforgiving as their surroundings. They have to become their own Rick, so that they can catch up to their Rick-full environment. And the Mortys who choose to not do that? It's their fault for being weak and emotional and not doing what needs to be done. I mean, think of it. Evil Morty overpowered his Rick simply by making him drunk. Literally every Morty could do that, if they wanted. They just choose not to. Morty Prime can disassemble neutrino bombs. My bet is he could assemble one too, if he wanted. He could easily kill a black-out drunk Rick C-137, if he decided to. Or he could try to find a way to keep Rick in stasis, so that he doesn't return via Operation Phoenix. But he doesn't. He chooses to let the abuse keep happening to him, so he's deserving of his fate.

(I mean, not really, of course, but I can totally see Ricks mocking their Mortys for not having the guts to stand up for themselves and claiming that Mortys want the abusive relationship to continue... otherwise, why even enlist in a Morty Agency, if not because you want more of the same?)

(At the same time, Ricks manipulate Mortys into believing they're selfish for trying to set boundaries... Into believing they're evil for not putting Ricks' wellbeing first.) (might as well actually be evil then, huh)

...I'm glad the Citadel's gone.

#rick and morty #evil morty

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ryin-silverfish · 7 days

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I really like Azure Lion as a character. Yeah, you can stop following me now. /j

But no, seriously, I like how LMK has adapted this particular character, given him way more potential complexity than his novel counterpart——not that it's a high bar, the LCR trio of JTTW are just demon warlords living in a literal human slaughterhouse.

Which is why I deeply dislike the take that "Oh, Azure manipulated SWK into fighting the JE! He's just using him like a pawn!" Like, wow, way to completely butcher two characters' personality and agency in one go.

Such takes reduce SWK to some innocent kid, when he is at most an impulsive, daring teenager who haven't met a single real obstacle so far——he robbed the dragon kings blind, and they couldn't do a thing! He struck his name and all his monkeys' names off the Book of Life and Death! What couldn't he do?

And Azure's failing isn't him telling a toddler: "You know what? Driving your tricycle into oncoming traffic will be real fun, trust me kiddo." It's letting his friend go way over the speed limit and not telling him that he should maybe, y'know, slow down, bc he'd seen his epic driving skills, SWK's the bestest driver he ever met, surely nothing would happen!

(And also, no one in that car is sober, except Macaque.)

What I'm getting at here is, even without Azure, SWK is not gonna be content with sitting on his mountain, eating peaches forever. Hell, he sure doesn't in the novel, where his demon king brothers are little more than namedropped NPCs.

He is always gonna want more, chase after greater destinies, drown out that existential ennui and fear of death at the back of his mind with bigger and bigger power-ups and the laughters of his companions.

He told himself he would be content after getting this one thing he wanted. That he could stop at any time. But alas, like any ADHDer, he will not stop at this one exciting thing, and sooner or later, the boredom sets in, and he gets ideas and impulsively leaps into making them reality.

That is the Mind Monkey at his worst: being a whirlwind of chaos, while unknowingly enslaved to his own chaotic mind.

(In the book, this is Wu Cheng'en's reminder to the reader that, even though you shouldn't keep your heart constantly under lock and keys, Neo-Confucian style, the other extreme——letting it go completely wild, disregarding all external rules and consequences, can be equally disastrous.)

And when that car was driven through the Celestial Palace's front door, off a bridge, and straight into a ditch, it was him in the driver's seat, steering the wheels the whole time.

Everyone else in that car failed terribly as friends when they didn't voice any objections, or try to get him off the driver's seat, or realize that cheering and egging him on is an awful idea, however genuine their blind trust was.

Like, they are certainly not helping, and made the situation much, much worse. If you let your buddy drive while under influence and hand him more beers in the car, even if you are also drunk out of your mind and aren't actively trying to get him into a traffic accident, you are a shitty, irresponsible friend.

But the thing is? SWK is still responsible for the consequences of his decisions. He could have stopped, by his own volition, and no one was holding a gun to his head and forcing him to drive. He, too, wanted this.

That, to me, makes a much more interesting narrative than "Poor innocent baby SWK was puppeted into becoming the Great Sage in Heaven by shady blue cat, how awful!"

Oh, and since I'm feeling particularly salty today, I'll also ask some last questions: is SWK so weak-willed and devoid of self-agency to you that he couldn't even OWE his most famous title, the Great Sage in Heaven, 100%, without being manipulated into it?

Is SWK so immature and unintelligent to you that he is incapable of being a genuine idealist or rebel, that he cannot agree, out of the depth of his heart, that the Celestial Realm sucks balls and needs better management?

TL;DR: Havoc! Era Azure Lion isn't some cult leader brainwashing this kid into becoming his figurehead. He's the dumbass who's too busy staring at his teenage crush to care about the blaring police sirens.

Also, I had a bit of an epiphany after writing this: why am I so annoyed by people reading Azure's idealization of SWK as him intentionally manipulating and love-bombing him? Because it is a very western and modern reading.

For someone with traditional Confucian beliefs, it is perfectly normal——it is what you are supposed to feel, as a liege who has found your just and virtuous lord.

If Romance of the Three Kingdoms existed back then, he would probably describe himself as the Guan Yu to SWK's Liu Bei, however wonky the analogy was.

(Gosh, now I want a "Four Classics read each other" crossover.)

I'm not saying it is healthy or wise. But under this context, putting your lord on a pedestral was normalized, and even encouraged, as the virtue of a righteous gentleman. It was the sort of ideals romanticized culture-wide. NOT having such beliefs would probably make you look weird.

And since the Celestial Realm in the novel is a parody of Confucian hierarchy in a Daoist trenchcoat, it was really no surprise that an idealistic ex-celestial soldier would hold the same beliefs.

To torture the analogy further, the problem is that he was trying to be the Guan Yu to SWK's Liu Bei, when the Brotherhood had more in common with the Bandits of the Marsh, down to their giant downer ending.

#lego monkie kid #azure lion #lmk azure lion #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong #rant #chinese literature #journey to the west

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mrs-snape5984 · 25 days

Text

“Take my mind and take my pain…”

“Like an empty bottle takes the rain. And heal, heal, heal….” (“Heal” by Tom Odell)

Nighttime is my favourite time of the day. Being surrounded by this natural darkness and silence (not in the way, in which I have to “mute” the world all day long by shutting the blinds and wearing noise cancelling headphones to avoid being overstimulated) makes me feel…safe. Almost content.

In some nights, I’m even strong enough to leave my room, so I can sit outside on my balcony, enjoying a fresh breeze on my face. The world is silent, there’s no car on the streets and all I see, is the Moselle glistening in the moonlight in front of me. Finally feeling human again…

During the phases of my crashes, I can’t even step outside to my balcony. Sometimes I’m desperate enough to crawl outside, when my legs are refusing to do their goddamn job even with the help of my cane! In these moments, I’m glad to be alone…without any witnesses to my humiliation.

Last night was a lost night. I passed out…again. It scares me to hell that these moments are happening more often nowadays. All I know, is that I sat down on my bed…crying from exhaustion and pain. And hours later, when I’m coming back to consciousness, I’m still in the same sitting position. There are proofs in my room, that my children must have been here…proofs like a drawing lying next to me on my bed…a plushie sitting on my coffee table, watching over me. And I know that my kids will tell me, that I didn’t wake up…no matter what they tried to do.

Yesterday a friend of mine wanted to visit me in order to enjoy a cup of tea with me in the darkness of my room. I was so excited to see her…to have someone here for a little while…to feel less lonely for a moment. My body ached so badly and my exhaustion felt like a truck, who was parking on me…so I passed out whilst I was waiting for my friend to come over. When I came back to senses, there were several text messages and several calls from her. She was upset, that I didn’t hear the doorbell, both of my phones and her knocking on the door. So, after a while, she left…and all what’s left for me is a feeling of being a total failure…a pathetic shadow of myself.

There’s still no cure for ME/CFS…and no one knows, if there’d ever be one. All I can do, is trying different things, and yet…nothing helped me. With each new crash I’m falling deeper into the void of darkness and despair. Each new crash takes its toll on me…takes a piece of me away! I’m so afraid of losing myself completely!

When I commissioned my friend @sleepybradipo for this meaningful piece of art, I begged him to make the trust between Severus and Julia - but also their despair - palpable. They’re searching for a way to heal Jules…to cure her body and her soul. Maybe the answer lies in the Dark Arts…who knows? These lovers will try anything possible in order to save her…just like I wished to be saved.

Ivano, when I got the idea for this project, I just knew, that you would be the best artist to make my dream come true. Your tender style makes my heart swell with so much love and gratitude. I adore your work and the dedication to all these marvellous details in this artwork…it’s everything, I hoped to see, when I described my idea to you. Thank you for helping me to soothe my troubled heart and mind with your beautiful art and your kind words. I’m beyond grateful that I met you here, my friend. You’re truly a blessing to me. Thank you for everything. 🥹

Oh, and please take my apologies for this chaotically worded post. My disease seems to rob the next piece of me by stealing my ability to create vivid images with my phrases (I already mentioned that in my last post).

I’m sharing my nocturnal view with you. Feel free to enjoy the Moselle at night.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

why can’t we have monster sheriff reader and horny ass town mayor and bandits

(Werewolf sheriff? Werewolf sheriff.)

A picture frame crashes to the abyss as you tumble into the nightstand. Those god damn idiots. Robbing someone blind on today of all days. The rage visible in the venom dripping from your teeth only upped their ante. None the wiser to your curse, the little demons damn near fainted when a growl slipped from your throat as you chased them about, catching the bastards in record time so you could return home before it was too late.

Your spine curves against the floorboards as you fall onto your side. You barely made it back before the transformation began. Your fangs assault your gums in trial to force out your human canines; the smell of the blood flowing from the vacant holes sending you into a furor. Course hair sprouts over your entire body, stemming from the deep claw marks on your bicep. The scar flares with a white hot pain in similar burn to when you first received it, the fruit bearer of your blight.

You drag your body across the floor as your limbs extend; fighting to reach the basement before the haze clouding your mind traps your brain in its fog. Vision spotty, the soft moonlight on your back doesn't register until you're facing it fully as you writhe in pain. Your talons rip the wood to shreds as your conciousness slips; heartbeat hammering through your maw. The last thing you hear before everything fades is a door handle rolling across the floor.

"You moron! Now they'll know we're here if they're home."

"Sorry! I'm still excited from earlier. Coulda swarn they were tryin to take my head off with that swing."

Shaking off the fuzzy shutter the memory brings, the lockpicker joins the rest of the group in piling into your home. The bandits were worried about you after your public display. While you losing your shit was a welcome surpise, they feared you had a bad week and wanted to cheer you up in the only way they knew how. Stealing things and dumping them off in your shack.

As they place their goods in various directions, a shout comes from the bedroom.

"Hey, guys- come quick!"

Rushing inside your room, the bandits stumble across the scene of a crime that looks like a tornado blew in armed to the teeth in blades. The nightstand was knocked over and blinds torn from the rack. Claw marks splintered the floors, walls, and even the ceiling. The moonlight centered on the bloodstains in the carpet; four teeth embedded in the wool.

The leader kneels and picks up a tooth. "What the hell happened here?"

"Is the sheriff okay?..."

"Look outside, I saw something move!"

A large shadow slinks away from view. Reflecting the natural light, the pin on its tattered clothes could only be one thing. The sheriff's badge.

"What was that?"

"Whatever it was, it has something to do with the sheriff. Follow it."

Fueled by anger and fear, the bandits barrel out the backdoor and after the creature. It's long gone by the time they tumble outside, but footprints and broken leaves lead them directly in its wake. Their adrenaline makes the chase as close to a match as possible for a beast of such calibre; broad shoulders easily the size of at least two of the bandits' torsos.

The pursuit comes to a halt as the group approaches the old farmer's gate. Fool spent a fortune on silver wiring after the lawsuit he lawsuit. As it stands still, the bandits get a good look at the creature. Fur as black as midnight, jaws and dentures that could snap some clean in two, familiar eyes. Looking closely at the beast, it becomes clear that the torn clothes on them aren't from them ripping someone to shreads, but from someone growing to large to wear them. A sheriff hat sits tucked bewteen its ears.

"S...sheriff?

The wolf's ear twitches in recognition. You huff in warning.

All at once things become clear to the group. All at once - that fear they each felt blends with something else. Those claws. That build. You could annihilate whoever you pleased. And that was one of the hottest things imaginable.

"Holy shit."

The human part of your brain wonders if now would be the best time to use the silver bullet tied around your neck as they approach. The weight of nearly a dozen humans jumping on you is about the same as a fly in your hair, but to avoid any casualties you allow them their fun. You have enough control for that, you think- till hands start wondering where they shouldn't.

#Sheriff reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #Yandere bandits #werewolf reader #yandere insert

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queers-gambit · 1 year

Text

When It Rains, It Pours

prompt: ( requested ) after a long hike, you and Joel find a rundown motel, and after finding the cleanest room, there's only one bed.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 4.4k+

note to requester: i know i said i'd get slutty but it wasn't going the way i wanted it - so, we've come to this. i'm so sorry 😭

warnings: cursing, we all pretend like we're not all dirty and disgusting from the apocalypse, mild mild mild smut but still NSFW [female-receiving fingering]. OC Joel who has a thing for pet names. author doesn't know what this is and promises she normally writes better.

The night was pitch ebony, swirling thick darkness making it hard to see in the absence of the silvery moon. There had been a wicked storm that brewed quickly overnight, and being as you and Joel were making a supply run into an area you don't often venture, it was easy to lose yourselves in the wilderness. If it wasn't the night that disrupted sight, it was the sideways rain that pelted over you two; and no matter a functioning compass or not, it was still hard to fucking see, let alone gage where you were.

"Joel!" You snapped, "This is fucking ridiculous. We're either going to wonder into a fucking trap or catch pneumonia. In case you're not paying attention, we're not exactly strapped with penicillin right now!"

He sighed, the two of you huddling under a tree. "We're almost there," he told you gruffly after hours of silent hiking.

"Yeah? How's it you know that? The rain is washing out the trails, Joel, we're kinda stuck out here with no real indication of where we are or where the fuck we're going!"

"No, we keep heading West - "

"How can you even determine which way is which!?" You snapped. "Our flashlights went out an hour ago, we should've made camp to wait out the storm."

"So the rain water could wash us out? Or so Infected could accidentally stumble upon us? Oh, wait, I know! So the other humans could come and rob us blind before leave us for dead, right?"

You offered a mocking look, "Then what do we do now, genius?"

Joel sighed heavily through his nose, shaking his curls out and spraying water all around. He tried to look through the trees but it was difficult to see three feet in front of yourself. "We should keep moving," he decided.

"I agree but our dilemma is, which way?"

"Uh," he tried to wipe the compass clean but in reality, he simply couldn't see from lack of light. "Shit."

"Yeah! Shit!"

"Don't get snippy with me - "

"I told you at least three miles back that this wasn't doable nor smart," you glared. "We should've been better prepared. So, where to now?"

"Well, I mean - "

"Fuck's sake, Joel, are we lost now?"

He paused, "Not exactly lost..."

"Just unsure, right? A little misplaced? Confused, even?"

"Just - c'mon." You glared at the back of his head but pushed off the tree trunk to follow him. "Bill said there's an old motel 'round these parts. With luck, we can crash there."

"If we're even in those parts," you growled.

"Well, keep an eye out."

"Have I slapped you today?"

Joel hummed, "Nope."

"There's still time," you huffed, yelping slightly when your foot stepped into a thick mud hole - tripping you into the flooding mud. "Ah, fuck! Ow! Hey, Joel?"

"What happened?"

"I'm stuck," You grit, trying to yank your leg free. "Fuck's sake, it's really in there. Joel, c'mon, help me out. What the fuck is this new Earth made of? Bastard ain't budgin'!"

Joel had to pause and double back to simply kneel, soaking his knee with mud, and after three good yanks, there were two pops: a loud one from freeing your foot (with your shoe still on) and a small one from within your ankle.

"Shit," Joel panted, wobbling for balance with a small pant. "You all right?"

"My fuckin' ankle," you breathed. "God, I twisted it real good, 's throbbing and swelling already."

"Think you're good to walk?"

"Gonna have to be," you used his offered hands to help you to your feet as you refused to be left behind as dead weight. In this day-and-age, you understood that injury would often get you left behind because nobody had the strength or ability to support the weak and injured. You tried a few slow, tentative steps but they were decently painful, so, Joel sighed and let your one arm sling around his neck to aid you as a crutch. "This is not ideal."

"No shit," he breathed, trying to keep hold on you, his gun, and keep his head on a swivel.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, what's that?"

"What's what, where?"

"Just pause, Joel, hang on, hang on," you snipped, tugging his shoulders You took a full minute to retrain your gaze, but then, you saw the outline of a building. "There," you pointed through the trees. "Do you see that?"

Joel squinted for a long moment, then nodded, "Could be the motel."

"Oh, thank you, God," you sighed, the pair of you moving for the motel as the storm drowned out any grunts of exertion. Bolts of lightning flashed to only confirm the building's appearance, and thunder seemed to reach into your bones. When closer, the building came in clearer view - shadowed, rundown, overgrown with vegetation... But with a few opened room doors.

"Here," Joel panted, leaning you on a thick tree trunk along the tree line. "I'll check it out - "

"Like hell you're going alone," you shook your head, pulling your hand gun out. "But it's also cold as shit and I'm drenched, I'm more than willing to help search the area if it means I lay down. C'mon, I can go slow on the ground floor."

Joel paused for a moment, then nodding slowly, "I'll check out the top. Shoot first, ask questions later," he reminded with a meaningful stare - as if he wanted to say more but couldn't. "And fucking run if you have to."

You offered a tired look, "Still givin' me that advice, all this time later?"

"Someone has to, you're chaotic and reckless."

"It's gotten me this far!"

"With bullet wounds."

"Flesh wounds," you instantly corrected, limping across the car park. "C'mon," you muttered, the two of you spacing out and slowly checking out the motel. Without your flashlights, it was ten times as difficult, but you had a little bit of a system.

Any door that opened, you tossed something into the room to rattle any Infected from rest. You'd wait at the open door, hoping the bolts of lightning were enough light to guide you. Some rooms were bolted shut, some literally fell off its hinges. Some were ransacked, some looked torched, others seemed... Lived in.

"Joel!"

"What?" He asked, appearing behind you so suddenly you jumped in fright. The man should often wear a bell, he was too sneaky for his own good.

"Fuck you," you sighed, shaking your head, "you know I'm jumpy."

"What is it? Why'd you call?"

"What's this look like to you?" She asked, pointing into the room as she stepped back. He offered a confused look before glancing in, then doing a double take.

"Gun up," he nodded, slowly taking two calculated steps inside to reach for the oil lamp he saw through the flashes of lightning. He got it lit using the leftover lighter, amazed by the way the lamp provided the room with warm light and also how nothing moved in the room.

It was almost suspicious after years of 'worst case scenarios' coming true. I mean... Look where you were! In the Wastelands of stupid-fucking Zombie World. Doesn't really get more 'worst case' than this!

Slowly, Joel checked out the closet and bathroom as you looked under the bed - wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on a second.

Pause.

Freeze frame.

Back up.

Record scratch.

One bed? Just one?

And as if that wasn't bad enough, it seemed to be unusually small. There was no way this bed belonged to this room, making you wonder from where the old inhabitants came from... Local, perhaps, if they transported a fucking mattress. Looking around, you realized the bed wasn't in the best condition, but there were blankets and thin pillows left behind.

Trying not to worry about the single bed, you poked around the materials in the room, Joel exiting the bathroom.

"We're alone," he nodded, looking skeptical.

"What do you think happened?"

He toed a few empty old cans, sighing, "Probably went out to find food. Not much other reason to leave." He picked up a child's stuffed animal, nodding, "Guess they just didn't make it back."

"All right, well," you shrugged, setting your gun down to lock the bolt on the door, "help me out here."

Joel stepped up and helped you move furniture in front of the door for added protection; then drawing the tattered curtains over the lone window to try and provide comfort in solidarity.

"All right," Joel sighed, staring at the bed like you had. "Hm, all right. Well... Let me get a blanket or two and I'll crash in the tub - "

"Like hell you are," you scoffed, shivering from the freezing rain water. "I'm not listening to you bitch and gripe and moan about your back all the way to Bill and Franks - and then all the way back to Boston."

"So, what? You think we're both gonna fit in that bed?"

You eyed it for a moment, but the cold was settling into your core. "You afraid to touch me or something?" You asked sarcastically. "Oh, right, I forgot, God forbid you get close to someone!"

Joel sighed your name in reprimand.

"What's the issue?" You whined, hands shoved under your arms. "I'm freezing, man, can we make a decision so I can at least have the decency to pass away in my sleep? Fuck's sake."

Joel glared, "That's not funny."

"What's your issue!?"

"It's not so much as us sharing the bed as it is we'd have to strip and share the bed," he tried to explain.

"You're almost 60-God-damn-years-old, but you're nervous about seein' me without clothes on? Are we in 6th grade again? Did we go back in time and I missed it!?"

"You've made it clear since day one you didn't want nothin' to do with me - "

"What the fuck are you on about?" You snapped. "Joel, honestly? You're the most important person in my life. I care about Tommy, I care for Tess, sure, but I wouldn't be gutted losing them. I would be if I ever lost you. So, shut the fuck up about how I didn't want nothin' to do with you, we share a fuckin' apartment - "

"That's because of space issues," Joel sighed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you took a long breath. "Joel?"

He rolled his neck out, "What?"

"I care about you," you simply said. "And I'd much rather lay in that bed awkwardly without clothes on, sharing body heat, than stand here another moment. We're both drenched, my ankle is throbbing, and you know what? I'm tired. I'm really fucking tired and that rain isn't letting up."

He sighed, nodding, "We might have to keep shelter for a day."

"So long as I can get warm, that's fucking fine," you shrugged. "Now, are you good? Is it okay to try to rest?"

Joel sighed, glancing at the bed and feeling his throat tighten. The bed was smaller than he hoped, and in honesty, you two would be lucky laying on your sides, pressed against one another, and not fall off. "Fine," he agreed, seeing how you were now trembling without control. "Fuck, I'm sorry, look at you, you're shakin'," he sighed, approaching you with rushed steps.

"Just cold, Joel," you complained, stiffly letting your pack fall off.

"No, you're fuckin' frozen," he sighed. "C'mon, get this jacket off."

"I-I'm tryin'."

"Want help?"

"Please, I'm just fuckin' tired," you groaned, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as he worked to shed your outer jacket.

"Work with me, sweetheart, lift your arms, there you go, that's it, good girl," he whispered, trying to help you peel more layers off. "You look like hell," he frowned, the flickering oil lamp providing minimal visuals from the shadowing, but in a warm, honied light.

"Feel like hell, too," you looked down your leg, sighing at the mud caked up them. "You look at peachy as ever," you tried to tease, but it came out in a shudder from a shocking wave of cold.

"Sit," Joel directed, turning you to lean on the bed's edge. He knelt to take your boots off - taking care of your injured ankle - and left your shoes at the bottom of the bed. He peeled your socks off, sighing as your toes were turning a slight shade of blue. "All right, quickly now. Lift your hips, let me get your pants off."

"Tryna get me naked, huh?" You grunted, flopping backwards on the bed.

"Keep talkin'," he grunted, unhooking the button on your jeans to start peeling them down. It turned into more of a shucking, and he tried not to notice how your panties tugged down, too.

"This is stupid."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Bill gave us fried information, Joel, ain't shit out here."

"He was right about the motel, though. Maybe we get a fresh start when the storm clears."

"Maybe we just say fuck it and go live with Bill and Frank."

Joel chuckled, "Yeah? That's what we should do?"

"Yeah, fuck people."

"All right, now," he sighed, successfully getting your pants to your thighs without your panties following. "So, fuck people, we go live like hermits?"

"Yep, better than under FEDRA's heel."

"They pay good money for pills," he reminded, sighing deeply. "All right, little one - "

"I hate that nickname."

Joel sighed, seeing your eyes closed but brows crinkled. "Peach?"

"Yeah, that's the one I like," you hummed with a soft smile.

Joel allowed himself a solemn chuckle, "All right, peach, let's get you under the covers."

"Poor excuse for 'em," you grunted, rolling over a bit to shuffle under the blankets. "They're scratchy."

"They're wool," Joel noted, petting the blanket. "They'll warm you up."

"Can't feel my toes."

"Let's hope your lips go numb soon."

"Fuck off, I blame you for this."

"You blame me for the storm?"

"Yes," you grumbled, shifting under the blankets to take your last layer off - your tank top - and tossing it at Joel. Your bra followed. "Lay those out for me, will you?"

"Mhm," he grunted, doing as you bid, but also laying out your other clothes. Your eyes didn't open out of pure exhaustion, and after a few minutes, Joel's weight was dipping the mattress. "Feelin' all right, peach?"

"Mhm."

The oil lamp went out, and Joel shifted in bed. "Fuck's sake," he muttered, trying to adjust, but every movement jolted your body. The mattress was worn and old, sinking under your weight but still loose enough to jostle you around. "Sorry, sorry."

"It's all right, but just settle down, Joel, please," you sighed, eyes cracked as he still twitched around. "Oh, my God, please, just - spoon me or something. Just whatever gets you to lay still."

"It's just too small a space."

"Then get closer."

Joel sighed and shuffled once more, but then, his chest was pressed right up to your back and soon, you were being cocooned in his warmth. Another readjustment, and his legs were forming around yours. "All right?" He checked again.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Can I lay my arm down?"

"Yeah," and now, your eyes were wide open, but in the pitched darkness of the room, Joel couldn't tell. His arm, thick with undefined muscle due to natural age-deterioration, laid over your hip and waist - trying to find a comfortable angle. "You're warm. Feels nice," you mumbled.

"I'm... Sorry?"

"No, no, it's good," you assured, trying to throw him a bone and took hold of his arm to pull him the last inch closer. You cradled his arm to your chest, and Joel sighed almost in relief. He soon started to relax - but you couldn't help but notice he still felt tense.

"You're shaking."

"I'm cold, shut up and go to sleep," you snipped, but your lips stretched in a smirk. His nose slowly traced the skin of your neck to rest just by your ear, pausing, and then tightening his arm to let himself rest in the crook of your neck. His breath was warm over your skin, and oh, fuck, did it feel good. In fact, you even hummed, mumbling, "Warm."

"You sound drunk."

"You fucking wish."

Joel sighed, his other arm easily sliding under the skimpy, thin, decaying pillows you used. For a singular, secular moment: everything was normal. There were no Infected. There was no end of the world. There was just you and Joel, maybe on a camping vacation and this was your night in a motel before hiking into the wilderness. He was warm, he was alive, he was breathing against your back and neck that you couldn't help but give a brief moment of thanks for the gentle reminder you two were okay for the present.

You were alive, and that was a huge relief.

Things seemed to quiet for a moment, until Mother Nature made her cruel reminder that She was the only force on Earth to be reckoned with by cracking a large boom of thunder. One so loud, it rattled the window. One so loud, it created small tremors in the pooling-waters. One so loud, soaking-wet leafs dropped from branches. One so loud, it made you jump and recoil back into Joel.

"You're okay," he eased in your ear, cracks of lightning flashing behind the thin, moth-eaten curtains. "Scared of thunder or somethin'?"

"No."

"Then why's your heart racing?"

It was only then you became acutely aware that when you jumped, you had subconsciously pulled Joel's arm in and his hand was nearly pressed over your entire breast. Just a hair's adjustment and he'd have hold of your nipple; the feeling exhilarating but also somehow forbidden. "Oh," you flinched in embarrassment, "sorry, I just... I'm not the biggest fan of thunder when it cracks like that."

"You're breathing funny."

"All right, this isn't gonna work if you're just gonna keep pointing out shit. I can do it to you, too, you know."

"But I'm not - "

"You're hard," you pointed out smugly, Joel going silent.

But then, you didn't expect him to gruffly reply, "Can you blame me?" Your breathing stuttered when his hand freely moved up to palm your breast tightly; kneading as if holding a fresh loaf of French bread. "Got the prettiest thing pressed against me, bare fuckin' naked, it'd be impossible not to be hard," he all but growled in your ear, you trying to clear your head as his actions were mesmerizing you. "Don't even know what you do to me, doll, do you?"

"No," you squeaked, gulping to clear your throat. "Gonna tell me?"

He chuckled, "Remember that real bad fight between Tess and I? Few years back? When she stormed out and slammed the door so loud, it knocked over those books?"

"Yeah?" You panted, slowly pushing your hips back to let your bottom grind into his bulge. You wore only your panties, feeling Joel hot and heavy against the curve of your ass through his thin and wearing-out boxers. He usually only liked wearing them for hikes for chaffing, so, most days in the QZ, he forwent boxers.

"It was cause of you," he whispered, both hands sure to leave bruises behind as he let his hips meet yours.

"I didn't - "

"No, doll, you ain't do nothin'," he cut you off, grunting slightly as he dry humped into you. "But I fucked up. I was so stuck in my head, it was durin' that heat wave. You wore that fuckin' grey tanktop and I was done for, girl. Hear me? Fuckin' done." You shuddered against him. "Felt like a God damn teen again, not sure what to do when he saw a woman's skin."

"What's you do?" You wondered.

"Might've said your name," he admitted, the hand not palming your breast snaking under your form to wiggle between your thighs. "Women don't like you bein' balls-deep in them, sayin' another woman's name."

"No, we certainly don't," you mused, reaching back for his neck.

Joel took this as invitation and rutted harder into you, letting your breast go to guide your leg back over his hip. Then, it darted back to grope the warm flesh. He grunted in your ear, "You were in my head, darlin'. Always have been, but it was real bad back then."

You remembered, "Because I was seein' that guy? Oliver?"

"Think so," he panted.

"Jealous?"

"Terribly," Joel growled, toying with your wet (from rain) panties for a moment before easing his hand into the front of your panties. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, girl," he noted in appreciation.

"It's from the rain."

"Yeah? That so?"

"Uh-huh."

"Even down here?" He smirked, middle finger ghosting over your slit to make you twitch with the smallest of gasps. Long forgotten were your freezing cold state, finding Joel similar to a personal furnace.

Okay, time for a little bit of truth. Ever since you started having "regular" sex, you learned that while cocks are nice, it's so much more pleasurable for you to have a man with skilled fingers. You liked that stimulation so much better for some reason - but hey, hey, hey, if Joel wanted to offer you a romp in the sheets, you wouldn't say no.

"Yep," you gulped, answering your companion and reaching for his other hand to forcefully grope your breast. It'd been far too long since you were intimate with another person, so, you didn't want nice and gentle. You weren't even sure if this thing with Joel would (or could) ever happen again, so, you really didn't want it nice and gentle.

"Darlin'," Joel warned, moaning in your ear as he slipped his finger inside you - wetness welcoming him like a vortex into your unknown. "I don't think I can stop - we should stop now. We should stop now, doll, c'mon."

"I'm not doin' anythin'," you whispered, whining when he pushed a second finger in.

"So fuckin' good for me," he grit.

"Joel? Joel?"

"What's wrong - "

"No, nothing, I just - I want this, too. I don't want you to stop."

"You don't mean that - "

"Joel, however long you've wanted me is probably almost as long as I've wanted you. Please," you whispered your beg. "I just want to feel you. Give me a bit of life, Joel, baby, please, I just want to feel alive."

Joel sighed your name, and you pushed his hands off to lift onto your hands and twist around. He looked up at you for a moment before reaching up to hook his hand around your neck and pull you forward until your lips collided in a frenzy of lips, teeth, and tongue.

Joel knew kissing you was a bad idea, but he was out of fucks to give at the moment. He wanted this, so, he'd relish in it.

He had you, he finally had you - and he wasn't about to give you up for the fucking world. He sighed before completely submitting himself to your charm; to you.

Knowing he had fucked someone more recently than you, you reached for the outline of his straining member and reacquainted yourself with the feel of a cock - of a hard cock hidden beneath fabric. Joel was right, you were starting to feel that juvenile excitement as if this was your first time again, and how you loved it.

Your lover moaned into your mouth, nearly hissing at the feel of your hand over his hot cock; trying to gulp down the feeling and not bust his load right then and there. "Can I take these off?" Joel asked, toying with your panties.

"Please," you breathed, helping him shed your last layer of decency before hitching your leg up his hip again and exposing your cunt to his wondering hands. Your moan was broken and whimpered when he pushed two fingers in again, letting go of him for a moment before latching onto his arm when Joel increased the speed of him tempo.

You begged his name for reprieve, but there was no mercy to be found in Joel's actions. You whimpered and shoved your face in his neck, unconsciously humping into his ministrations as Joel slowed himself into sweeping motions to search for you G-spot. You couldn't remember the last time you had such a diligent love, most simply thinking the clit was enough - and while it was with a vibrator, it wasn't if your sexual partner didn't know where the fucking clit was!

However, Joel proved he was well-versed in how to please a woman, and while he wasn't a regular Casanova, he was determined to bring you to your peak. "There, there," you jolted when his finger pad found that spongy-good spot inside your inner walls that, when stimulated, had you seeing stars. "Oh, my God, yes, yes, fuuuck yes," you whimpered, needing to open your mouth to latch onto his shoulder as your climax reared its white-hot head.

"C'mon, darlin', lemme feel you," Joel muttered, his Southern accent coming out into play more as he reached for your clit at the same time. The combined efforts had you ready to cry. "I know you're there, c'mon, c'mon, baby, want you to cum all over my fingers, c'mon - yeah, like that, good fuckin' girl, there it is," he coached, watching you closely as you briefly forgot to breathe.

You would've been ashamed of the moan you let out if anyone else was around, and if the storm didn't drown you out; Joel praising you for doing 'so good' for him as he stared down to watch you twitch and cum - coating his hand.

You didn't usually squirt unless your G-spot was hit, and Joel seemed mesmerized by the messy action as well as the sight. It made him feel both prideful and primal to see himself splattered with your juices. However, it wasn't enough to distract Joel for long - who didn't let up. He kept you going by never removing his fingers, and instead, watched as he coaxed you through your epic ride. "That was better than I imagined, baby," Joel admitted quietly.

"You might change your mind before the sun comes up."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep. I wanna be on top."

Joel paused for a moment, blinking at you, then decided, "Maybe for one of the rounds - but the first one, I'll be the one fucking you."

With a growing smirk, you taunted, "Bring it on, cowboy."

author isn't very confident writing NSFW, but hey, practice makes perfect, right?

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #tlou #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller drabble #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction

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