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justagalwhowrites · 16 hours

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Gurll, lavender is my go-to reread everytime. Ig u are taking requests (😂🫶🏻), I would really like to see how Joel found out Doc was pregnant of Sylvie and those sweet pregnancy exchanges - like him being worried (‘cause in the original we skip the whole pregnancy). 😎

OMG Hi Bestie!!!

So you'll see some of this in Girl Dad, a canon one shot I did for Doc's birthday back in October. You see some of Doc panicking about Sylvie on her birthday because she's never made it further in a pregnancy and her birthday has just such an awful personal history for her and Joel loves her through it. We also see Joel being just a precious father to his newest baby girl.

BUT... here's some more of the pregnancy for you ❤️

Expecting

20 years after your first pregnancy, you find yourself expecting again. Things are a bit different this time. A Lavender Drabble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Warnings: Pregnancy. Smut adjacent. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI

Length: 2k

September 2, 2024

The first time you threw up, Joel was on patrol.

It's not like you'd gotten your period since the two of you had started trying but you didn't put much stock in that. You'd never been regular and you were nearing menopause now. Missing a period or two was hardly monumental.

But the nausea the morning you woke up alone was.

You rocketed to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet, everything left in you from the night before coming up.

"Shit," you whispered, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as your stomach still churned.

You knew this feeling. It had been a long time but you knew it.

And you knew you should be happy about it. It wasn't like last time. You and Joel were together now. Not just together, you were married. Things were secure - as secure as they could be in the apocalypse, anyway - and you were trying for this.

But it was still the apocalypse.

It was no small part of you that thought this wasn't going to happen. That you were going to try and try and then menopause would kick in and you'd never have a child you made with Joel. You'd resigned yourself to that a long time ago, that you'd never be a mother to someone that grew inside of you, never raise someone that you'd brought into being through love. You had Ellie who was your child in every way that mattered and that was more than enough.

But you were pregnant. You were sure of it. And you should have been happy about that - thrilled, in fact. Part of you was. The rest of you was terrified.

What had you been thinking? Bringing a child into this destroyed world? Would Joel even still want this now that it was real and not some imagined, idealized thing on the distant horizon? How were you supposed to protect a baby from the horrors of this reality? Even here in Jackson there was fear and risk and you'd gone and done this on purpose.

You didn't tell anyone, though the nurses at the clinic could tell you were off all day. You assured them that you were fine while trying not to panic. What if Joel changed his mind? What if, when faced with the reality of it, he didn't want to bring a baby into this world?

You threw up again that afternoon, the sickening feeling hanging around after everything came back up and you tried not to cry.

Joel got home after Ellie was already in bed that night, his patrol keeping him out late. You were pacing the kitchen when you heard the front door open and close quietly, the squeak of the floorboards under his heavy boots.

"Baby?" He frowned poking his head into the kitchen. "What're you still doin' up, it's late..."

"I know," you smiled a little, looking him up and down and taking stock to make sure he was still in one piece. "I'm glad you're back."

He smiled back, coming all the way into the kitchen to take you in his arms and kiss you, gentle and deep.

"You and me both," he said. "Gettin' too old to be sleeping rough like that, feel like I did my time with that shit getting out here..."

You laughed a little and nuzzled into him, breathing in the sweaty, woodsy scent of him.

"What's wrong, baby," he whispered, his arms enveloping you totally, holding you against him. "Can tell you got somethin' on that big brain of yours."

You pulled back from him just enough to see his face, his arms still holding you loosely. His face was smeared with dirt, the grime of the trail and sweat on his skin and his eyes were soft and warm and like home.

"I'm pregnant," you said softly. Those eyes got wider. "I know we've been trying but... It's real now and..."

"You're pregnant?" He breathed, stepping back from you, his hands going to your shoulders. You nodded, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "Oh Baby..."

He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, so hard you could taste the passion on his tongue.

"Really?" He asked, his eyes searching yours as he pulled back from you and taking your shoulders again. You just nodded again, your heart pounding. "Fuck, that's... that's amazing, we're gonna... Baby, you're pregnant!"

"Yeah," you laughed a little. "Yeah, I am... You're happy?"

"Happy?" He laughed back. "Baby, I'm... I'm so far beyond fuckin' happy that word don't even begin to cover it."

He got to his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips, sliding around to cradle the small of your back as he looked lovingly at your stomach.

"You're pregnant," he said, awed, almost to himself. He pressed a kiss to you, over your womb, before one of his hands came to hold you reverently there. "Our baby is in you, right now."

"Yeah," you smiled, voice wet. "Yeah, they are."

"That's amazing," he whispered before looking up at you. "You're amazing, you're the most amazing thing I've ever seen..."

You ran your fingers through his curls before cupping his cheek.

"Thank you," you said, your whole being feeling lighter now, knowing that he was really in this with you.

"For what?" He asked, getting to his feet and pulling you against him again. "You're the one doin' all the work."

You smiled a little.

"For wanting this with me," you said quietly. "I was afraid... I'm still afraid. But we can do this."

"We can do this," he echoed you, kissing your temple. "You, me, Ellie, this baby. We're a family. We can do this."

You put a palm over your womb again, cradling where the child you'd made with Joel was growing inside you.

He was right. You could do this.

But things were different after that.

Joel hovered. It reminded you a bit of when he first came to the QZ, back when he thought his fear was something he could push past if he just got close enough. You’d be working at the clinic, turn around to pick something up and then Joel would be there. You’d be relaxing on the couch and decide you needed a cup of water and, the second you started to move, he was up instead asking what you needed.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, you know,” you said a two months after you’d told him you were pregnant and Joel had damn near held you down instead of letting you go to the kitchen. “Also capable of walking to the mess hall on my own, making my own lunches…”

“All the work you’re doin’ growing my baby, I should do something,” he replied, bringing you a glass of water. “Seems like this is the least of it.”

You might have believed him if it wasn’t for the other things, too.

You’d become insatiable during pregnancy, all but demanding sex at least once if not twice a day. You couldn’t get enough of Joel but he seemed to be able to get enough of you.

It was close to Christmas when you finally brought it up, Joel’s hands more gently roaming over your skin rather than with any desire or need.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not interested, you know,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

Joel frowned, looking over your face for a moment.

“What?” He sounded completely puzzled. “Why would I not be interested?”

“I know I look different now,” you ran a hand over your growing bump and took a deep breath. “It’s OK if you’re not as attracted to me at the moment…”

“In what fuckin’ universe am I not attracted to you?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “Baby, if I could spend the rest of my damn life inside you, I’d be a happy man.”

Your confusion must have shown because he brushed your hair back before adjusting your face to look at him.

“What’s goin’ on,” he asked gently. “Why are you saying this stuff.”

“You don’t touch me like you used to,” you said quietly, hoping you didn’t sound too wounded by it. “And it’s OK if you don’t want me like that right now, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t really want and…”

“Baby,” he cut you off. “I’m gonna stop you right there. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now. Not when I first met you and you were some hot young thing, not when you first got off the plane to come visit, not when I first saw you again in the QZ. Seeing you grow our baby is the most beautiful, most sexy thing in the damn world, don’t go thinking otherwise.”

“Oh,” you frowned. “Then… I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“I just…” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at you again, a pained look on his face. “I’m scared, baby. I’m scared in a way I ain’t been since we came to Jackson.”

“Joel,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “We’re OK here, we’re safe here…”

“I know,” he said. “You’re safe from infected and you’re safe from raiders but… baby, what if you get hurt? You’re the doctor here, what if something happens to you or the baby? What if there isn’t someone who knows how to save you? What if I do somethin’ to you on accident, what if I’m too rough because I’m caught up in touching you the way I want? I can’t risk that, baby, I can’t.”

“Oh Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer. “You’re not going to hurt us. I promise, you’ve never been too rough with me. If something doesn’t feel right I’ll tell you but it’s OK. We’re safe. You’re safe.” You guided his hand to your breast, his large palm curving around the soft flesh. “And I want you to touch me, really touch me. Please.”

He was cautious at first, hesitant. Now that you knew he was afraid, it was easier to see it on his face and feel it in his touch. But you guided him through it, holding his hand, reassuring him, until he was lost in you and things felt right for the first time in months.

You learned how to head things off after that. When he would appear in the clinic, you would give him a kiss and tell him how you were feeling. If the baby was moving, you’d guide his hand to your stomach to let him feel them alive inside you. When you needed something at home and could see that he was restless and distracted by worry, you’d ask him for help. You started meeting him at the gates after patrol so he could see you and touch you as soon as he was back, feeling how he relaxed when his hands were on you.

When you went into labor, though, you were worried. You knew he was afraid but then, so were you. You were afraid not just of what could happen, of how it would hurt under the best of circumstances, but of how to help Joel through it, too.

But he sensed what you were doing right away, so in tune with you now. He climbed into the bed behind you, pulling you back so your head was resting on his chest.

“Don’t you dare worry about me,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby. Got both of you.”

You smiled a little as the contraction eased and he held you a little tighter.

“I know you do,” you relaxed into the firm, strong body of your husband. “I know.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #lavender #lavenderversary

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circeyoru · 2 days

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Entertainment & Attachment = Requested

[Poltergeist!Alastor x Medium!Reader]

The Request

For as long as you can remember, you were different from the people around you. No one understood you, no one could be by your side like you’d wanted. You couldn’t rely on others like a human should, as social as humans were made to be, you can’t be normal. You can’t make long lasting friends, and you can’t even rely on your family. For years, you thought you were an anomaly

In your eyes, you see things. Things others can’t. As clear as day, you’d see a transparent figure walking or floating around. Some were fine to stare at, but some were living nightmares to even spare a glance. As a child, you’d point them out and try to convey that there was something there to your parents or friends, they’d all say you were doing all that for attention

So as you grew, you learned to keep quiet about what you saw, even ignoring them altogether. You found out some time later that these were things called spirits, entities of the departed. Or what’s more commonly known as ‘ghosts’

You were lonely and so you did what you anyone would, seek companionship

You approached the little boy that was already in the storage room, he was quite harmless and rarely ever moved out of the room. He was aware you could see him, but he never made any movement to approach you. When you kneeled down in front of him and called out to him, tears came down his eyes and quiet sobs turned to cries. You tried calming him down, yet through his cries, you caught what would make your heart ache

“You noticed me! Someone noticed me! No one noticed me until now! No one cared that I died!”

“... What’s your name? Want me to make you a little burial?”

“What’s a burial?”

“It’s… Something… Something to honour the dead. A place for you to sleep and rest. To move on.”

“I… I want that…”

From then on, you’d try to approach similar spirits like that boy. It turned out, the spirits you saw couldn’t move on and stayed where they died or was most attached to. Hearing their stories was always hard for you, since you’d feel their emotions when they spoke to you like a tidal wave, but all was worth it when you get to see their figure fade to nothingness and a peaceful smile on their faces

While you studied and made yourself a stable lifestyle, you grew to be more adapt in your little world of spirits. You found yourself more at ease there because there was nothing to hide and you were accepted in a way. Everything was so very good for you, there were ghostly friends you’ve made that weren’t ready to pass on because they were busy to something, the most heartwarming ones were them staying to be their loved ones’ presence

There were many that wanted to communicate to spirits like you could hear them. You don’t feel like being a parrot since it lacked that emotional quality. So you built a radio box, or what’s more commonly known as a ‘spirit box’. A device that can allow spirits to communicate through radio frequencies, or something like that

It worked wonders and allowed you to communicate with spirits more easily as well. You slowly modified it to be smaller so you could carry it around, then perfecting it when it hang to your side like a handbag. It worked on electricity, but it has little solar panels so it could constantly charge when you out and about

Yet everything changed when you received a particular call from a homeowner. You made a visit, when you were there, they were positive that their house was hunted. Everytime technology was used, phones, TVs, and even the tablets, it’ll all glitch and malfunction. There was a foul stench in the basement that can never be cleaned. Mostly, the master bedroom and study was always cold

The family tried everything, even trying to renovate the place and destroy the house to build a new one over it. But mysteriously, the workers would fall ill, have unexpectable accidents, tools gone missing ot malfunctions. These were the better endings, at times, someone would end up dead

The parents begged you to do something, they had children, they can’t let this continue. You fail to understand this familial bond. Seeing the little children so close with their parents, how you envied them. But you don’t blame your ability to see or communicate with them, you welcome your title as a ‘medium’. That was in the past either way, this is the now

You couldn’t promise that you’ll ‘deal with the problem’ as they phased it, but you’ll try. Either way, you advised that it was best they were prepared to move out. You can’t say for certain, but you think this spirit was very very attached to the memories in the house, or the fact that it was once their possession

From the moment you stepped through the front door, you felt a heavy weight over your body, you felt a chill around you that was constantly shifting, even more around your little radio invention. You could feel eyes on you, staring at you like a predator has its next prey

You went to the basement when the family left you to your own devices. You had to cover your mouth and nose with a handkerchief so you could stand and walk down the steps. The deeper you gone, the worse it got. You wanted to back away, but you couldn’t help it, you were worried for that linger spirit more so than the family

When you got to the basement, you noticed that it was quite empty and dusty. There was only an old table and a chair, you found a light switch and turned it on, the lights flickered on, but only dimly lighting up the room, giving it an eerie vibe

It wasn’t until you turned on the radio that the stench was completely gone. You were shocked yourself, but not of the lack of rotten smell in the room. More so on the transparent hand that tried to play with the radio while you were still tinkering with the dials

“I’m surprised to see one of these old machines. What with all those fancy technology, I thought radios went extinct! Hahaha! This has to be an invention of your own making. A very well made one I much compliment. Finally someone with taste!”

“What unfinished business do you have? I’ll try to resolve it so you can move on.”

“Oh, you can see me? And hear me? Why! This day is turning out to be quite entertaining indeed! My Dear, make no mistake. I have no unfinished business.”

“Then why haven’t you leave this realm when you died?”

“Because my death was one I didn’t expect nor did I welcome it. Imagine, you minding your own business and suddenly you were shot in the head and mistaken for a harmless deer. Anyone would be enraged by such a death. No, no. I don’t think I’ll ever move on. Though, thank you for asking and trying.”

“So you need to accept your death then.”

“Accepted? Hahaha! Dear, I have accepted my death! I deserve it quite honestly! Do you know why? Because I was the reason why many died.”

The spirit, or Alastor as he introduced himself, was a former radio host. That wasn’t the detail you focused on, it was the fact that he was once a serial killer. He wasn’t a vengeful spirit, more of an unrest one. So that calmed you down, somewhat

It wasn’t the first time you encountered spirits that were once dangerous human beings when living. You met some robbers and even human traffickers, but you listened to their stories and helped them pass on. There were always some that you couldn’t do much to help except warn others away from the area so the spirit wasn’t disturbed

But Alastor. He was the first serial killer you encountered. One so shameless in his crimes and prideful of his work too. He didn’t hide the gory details and his creepy human knowledge whenever you were around

As you didn’t stay at the house and would only investigate the house (him) for the duration of the afternoon, Alastor would talk your ear out the moment you step through the front door. When you left to stay at the hotel room you rented, Alastor would wave you bye and stay at the doorway as though he was the host of the house bidding his guest a good day

Of course, you couldn’t stay forever and you had to leave. With Alastor’s activity, you stayed firm on your advice for them to stay somewhere else that wasn’t this house. Then you left, oddly enough, you didn’t feel unrest that you left things between you and Alastor unsettled. Especially when you told him that was your last visit and he gave you a cryptic answer on whether he’ll continue to ‘haunt’ the house

“The family here will return tomorrow, will you leave them alone?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure, Darling, maybe I will and maybe I won’t. Who knows? I go where entertainment takes me you see.”

“Can’t you answer a simple yes or no?”

“Hm… Maybe!”

When you were back home, you noticed how spirits seem to avoid you a bit. Some even flinching and hiding when you walked pass. The moment you tried to approach spirits, they outright flee like you were a ghost scaring them in a haunted house. You were always left wondering if you did something

Still, it all made sense just as you heard the familiar voice of a spirit that should even be in your room. Looking up from your phone, you saw Alastor smiling down at you with his hands behind his back while he floated over your form on the bed. You took note of the faint trail of red smokey substance connecting him to your radio on the far end of the room

You quickly figured out that Alastor changed attachments, from the house he lived and killed in to your radio. When did it start? Perhaps the day after you saw Alastor, then he slowly moved attachments and connected to the radio. He was a beloved radio host during his glory days after all

“Darling, you approach other spirits too. Why not talk to some more actively ones instead of the common folk? I can provide some assistance. You see, I am quite feared and persuasive too. And I’m sure you know that I am no dainty stick figure. Your noble quest to help spirits pass on, I’ll lend you a hand! For my ongoing entertainment, I’ll protect you from anything. What do you say?”

Now you understood his answer. You were his entertainment and true to his words. He followed you, perhaps follow isn’t the right word. Attach, yeah

Note: Just a treat. I'm getting back my free time so I did this. Hehe. A bit long and boring though. Oh well

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #Entertainment & Attachment

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houseki-no-suffering · 21 hours

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Hey! I found a post of yours (specifically a phos analysis) from a looong while ago. Just curious to hear what your thoughts on the last chapters and the conclusion of the story are!

I recently finished the manga after putting it off for 4 years, and it was an incredible but such a bittersweet read. Maybe it's just me being a sucker for happy endings, but man, it really did not get happier </3

And you probably already know this, but did you know that Ichikawa released the last chapter the same day a comet flew by that looked exactly like the comet from the last chapter? Really cool stuff but I am emotionally destroyed haha

I suppose it was the only kind of happy ending HnK could have, and I don't think I mind it as much as other things that have happened in the last few chapters. It reads more HnK than anything that has happened in the past 1-2 years of serialization.

I appreciate the bittersweet notes (always have) and Ichikawa's words that this is how she wanted the story to end, it doesn't happen to every mangaka. Also, the comet bit is such a nice touch.

As for Phos (I suppose this is the post you meant?), I do believe that they got a happy ending.

If you think about it, instead of becoming a lunarian and being prayed away like the others, Phos' journey gave them the power and knowledge to rise above them. Thanks to their flaws (being brittle, having special inclusions, maybe being the most human of all the gems) they became human, the most flawed of creatures, and basically reverted to the purity of a child, a god, sin-less (even if this is a Buddhist story, so idk if I can actually speak of sin) and therefore free of everything that made humanity always dissatisfied, dangerous and unhappy. The others renounced existence, Phos found a way to reach paradise.

Humanity doesn't come out of this looking like a nice bunch of people to hang out with, and neither do the lunarians (gems included at this point). And yet, there's so much compassion in everything Phos does: a kind child, up until the very end.

I always speculated (and was not alone in this) that Phos' job would become to pray the lunarians/everyone away, find Cinnabar the job to kill them, become a Bodhisattva... in this, I believe, the story remained true to itself. What I believe no one saw coming was how shallow(?) it all seemed in the end.

Everyone came back, making Phos' sacrifices and suffering basically meaningless, everyone started getting along and solving centuries-old problems in seconds. Then, Ichikawa introduced so many new changes abruptly... It felt rushed, lazy and overly simple, when most of us loved HnK for its complexity and depth.

Maybe it was because Ichikawa wanted (or needed to) end the series with ch 108. Usually, when mangaka put a limit to the chapters they want to write, it really damages the story and I wasn't a fan of this even in this situation.

Aside from these issues, I appreciate how Ichikawa seemed to care about the character of Phos.

Maybe this all happened so that Phos could be happy, maybe this was the only possible way for Phos to be happy? It would be a little bit like in Devilman, where the world basically ends only so that Satan can understand love. Idk, little old Phos didn't seem that desperate a case, they just wanted truth, yes, this did cause some... issues, but other than that they're a sweetheart.

This is the leitmotif of the series, after all: Phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred.

They internalize a pressure and a need to feel useful (coming from gem society) and turn them into a necessity for change (unlike in gem society). Initially, they want to find a job. Then, they want to help Cinnabar find a job, then they want to help Ventricosus, then then want to become a fighter, then they want to help sensei, then the gems, then the lunarians...

Contrary to most of the other gems, Phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally. They start off as a self-less creature who believes that their life isn't worth anything. Therefore, they put it on the line time and time again and, eventually, lose it time and time again as they change form.

It's their journey towards truth and happiness: they change and lose pieces of themselves, forget things, renounce gem-ness in favor of humanity and then humanity for god-hood.

Phos changes until they find the form that makes them happy. Their purest, happiest form. They change so much that they come back to square one almost: they become pure Phosphophyllite, with no inclusions at all. Still fragile, still small, but selfless and cheerful. Carefree.

In a sense, HnK ends with Phos becoming Phos.

#houseki no kuni #hnk #land of the lustrous #hnk spoilers #apologies ive only become wordier with the years #i think our mistake was to think that this story would deconstruct buddhist narratives while it catually did the opposite #ichikawa fooled us #also i would love to update that post about the timeline of the manga #i have a couple billion years to catch up with

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mixelation · 3 days

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oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u

In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on.

In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution.

“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”

Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died.

(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)

He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne.

Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that.

Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?

She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately.

“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said.

“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”

Tori pouted some more.

“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?”

A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home.

“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”

Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”

“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”

Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”

“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”

“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”

“Deidara will love this,” Tori said.

“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly.

They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around.

He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm.

Hmm.

Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying.

Tori decided to change her strategy.

xXx

“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi.

“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”

Tori shook her head.

“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”

“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”

Neither did I, Tori thought.

She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay.

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”

“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.”

Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her.

Oh well. She tried.

xXx

When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip.

He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers.

“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”

Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him.

“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly.

Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”

Tori stood.

“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”

She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age.

“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious.

Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?

“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap.

“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”

Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides.

“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”

“What?” Obito full-on squeaked.

He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him.

His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something.

Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him.

The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him.

Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge.

“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides.

“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her.

His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori.

He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips.

“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said.

Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his.

I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back.

Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain.

She broke the kiss first.

“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked.

It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot.

“For you? Always,” he replied.

She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that.

There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?

“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked.

Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.

#reborn au au: it's gotten sillier #my writing

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darkwolf989 · 3 days

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Can I request a girl dad Vox where his teenage daughter is going through her emo phase. at the same time going through puberty, and she's just at that stage where she's like "I hate you all" and it really hurts Vox because she's always been her little girl and maybe it ends with them making up and just being goofy like watching her favorite movies. Like super daddy's girl esk until then and his world just stops when she starts pulling away. I LOVE GIRL DAD VOX.

This was such a fun request! Thanks for sending!! <3

The attitude shift came overnight. Vox couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his daughter changed her nail polish from pink to black, or when she started to wear only the black pieces from her wardrobe. But he could absolutely remember the first time she snapped at him over a simple question. As she left the breakfast table and slammed the door shut behind her, Vox looked to Valentino and Velvette for guidance.

“She’s growing up,” Velvette said through sips of her coffee. “Just be patient. Let her come to you and give her space.”

And so, Vox tried. I mean, honestly, he really did try. He let every snarky response, every too loud blast of music pass. Hell, the morning she woke up and poured herself a cup of coffee he almost blew a gasket. She was sixteen, she didn’t need coffee, he started to say, but Valentino cut him off and guided reader back to the kitchen.

“Cream and sugar, little princessa, will help you get used to the taste,” Valentino said gently.

Vox heard her mutter something he couldn’t quite make out but her tone certainly sounded rude. He stood up to scold her but Velvette grabbed his hand.

“Pick your battles, Vox. This isn’t it.” Velvette said. “It’s only a phase.”

And so he gave her as much freedom as he felt he could while still being an active, involved parent. He kept on top of her grades and gave her the space she demanded and he thought for sure that respecting her privacy would get at least an “I love you Daddy,” on occasion. The most he got from her was a slightly less intense look of disdain every time he asked a question or a task of her. It seemed to him Daddy’s Little Girl was no longer.

The hair dye was the final straw. Pretty brunette turned box dye black in a matter of hours. A bathroom splattered with splotches of black and a sink stained so badly Vox was sure it would never come out. Her beautiful brunette hair was now an odd shade of gray. He felt his anger grow as he saw the remnants of her activities and with a yell, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her downstairs to Velvelettes studio.

“Where did you even get this?” Vox asked in frustration as he watched Velvette’s assistant try to scrub the stains from behind her ears. “And why? You had such pretty hair!”

“Why does it matter?” She snapped. “I can do what I want with my body. You can’t stop me.”

“I never said you couldn’t! But you have an entire salon two floors below your bedroom, why didn’t you just say something?” He asked in exasperation as Velvette walked over.

“Because it’s my body! I just wanted to do something on my own for once without everything questioning me!” She screamed.

And then she burst into tears. Vox could feel his heart breaking at the sound and pushed the assistant away as he pulled her into his arms. He expected her to push him away, but instead she leaned into his shoulder and cried.

“And now I’m ugly, and my hair sucks and I just, I just…” she let out a hiccuping sob.

Vox recognized that noise. Even in her teenage years, that cry hadn’t changed. He pressed his hand to the back of her head gently, ignoring the leftover streaks of dye that stained his hands.

“Hey, hey baby girl. It’s alright, Auntie Vel will get your hair fixed up,” he said as soothingly as he could.

Velvette glanced up from behind the counter and took her place behind the chair. She gave Vox an encouraging look.

Vox took a deep breath. Pick my battles, he thought to himself as he held his not so little girl anymore.

“And I’m sure she’ll dye it black if that’s what you really want,” he conceded finally.

Another sniffle from the face tucked into his shoulder.

“Really, you’d let me do that?” She asked as she leaned back and rubbed at her eyes.

“Only if you promise never to use box dye again,” he replied lightly. “The bathroom is a mess. We might have to repaint the entire thing.”

She let out a ghost of a smile and he gently dabbed her eyes.

“There there. No more tears. It’s okay.”

“Daddy? Can I ask you something?” She asked as Velvette quietly took her place behind the chair and began to work her way through the half brunette streaks of hair.

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Can…can we redo my room? I don’t want it pink anymore.” She said softly. “Please don’t be mad.”

He could feel his heart breaking for the second time that day, this time for an entirely different reason. She thought he would be mad at her? He tried to think back to when she would get that idea and quickly concluded now wasn’t the best time to analyze his own behavior. Not when he had those pretty blue eyes watching him, waiting desperately for a response.

“Sure baby girl,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead. “How about we get your hair fixed up and then you and I can do some shopping and redesign the whole thing together tonight? How’s that sound?”

Her eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! Thank you, Dad!” She stood up from the chair threw her arms around him.

Velvette gave Vox an approving smile.

“Alright then you two, let's get to work so you guys can go have some fun!” She said cheerfully.

A few hours later, Vox watched as reader admired her reflection in the mirror. Somewhere, it pained him that she wanted to run so far in the opposite direction. He wondered what he had done to lose her trust.

“Don’t take it personally,” Velvette said softly to Vox as he watched reader run her fingers through her hair. “She’s just trying to find her place in the world.”

“What do I do about the bedroom? I can’t have it all black, it would look awful.” He replied, “but unless I give in…”

“Boundaries, Vox. It’s a reasonable give and take. Sure, painting her entire room back would look awful. And It’s okay to hold an expectation and come to a compromise. Some part of her still wants to know you care about her. She’s just testing her limits. All teenagers do.” Velvette added. “But I would start with designing together on one of you computers and go from there.”

Several hours, zero tears and one phone in pizza order later, Vox and reader sat on the couch. For the first time in a long time, reader was in hysterics as they watched her favorite movie together.

“Hey, Dad?” She asked once she collected herself enough to speak. “I love you.”

Vox tried to keep his cool, but his heart soared. “Love you too,” he replied. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your dad.”

#the vees #valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #valentino #vox x reader #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader

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reyla-the-black-wolf · 1 day

Text

My Heart speaks for you (Part 3)

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, a bit of flirting?, slight hints of anxiety, nightmare but with happy ending

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

Music:

Let it all out on me - Houses on the Hill

Codex - Joel Sunny

Snowfall - Øneheart (8D Audio)

Part 1 ⎮Part 2⎮Part 3⎮

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Golden rays of sunshine fell on my face, leaves casting shadows onto my features. The forest around me smelled of wet moss and fresh rain, and the bittersweet scent of resin and delicate heather wafted through the air from afar, while the birds above sang their melodies merrily.

I stood beside a birch tree, just as Eris had described, enjoying the last beams of sunlight and waited for him. The forest around me was painted in every autumnal shade imaginable, making it seem like a whole different world, the leaves competing to see who had the richest colours. It was breathtaking.

I had seen autumn in the Night Court, but it would never compare to the view surrounding me.

I spun around, my feet dancing across the spongy moss. Captivated by the glory of it all, I didn´t notice the light footsteps coming from behind. Someone chuckled, making me turn around to see the Autumn Court heir leaning against the bark of a tree. An amused smile played across his lips as he watched me. Of course, he looked as stunning as ever in his crimson tunic and fiery hair.

A blush spread across my cheeks and my body tensed under his gaze. Suddenly the air felt too hot. Too dry. A certain heat radiating off him. Just breathe. No need to be nervous.

„Welcome to the Autumn Court, y/n! I´m delighted you accepted my invitation.“ He spoke as he walked towards me, extending his hand. Uncertain, I placed my hand in his. Gods, it was so small compared to his. His lips brushed my knuckles as he kissed them in a deep bow, the pink blush on my cheeks increasing.

He straightened and looked at me, another smile creeping over his lips as he noticed my cheeks.

Completely oblivious of how to react to his actions, I just stared at him like some love-drunk maiden.

„Come on then, I´ll show you my home.“ He waved and began to move deeper into the forest. I snapped out of my daze and quickly followed, my hands in my pockets.

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We strolled through the woods for about five minutes when I remembered what was hidden in one of my pockets. Pulling it out, I showed Eris a small notebook, encouraging him to open it when he gave me a puzzled look. His fingers grazed mine as he grasped the book, sending a shiver over my skin.

„So we can talk, even without words.“ and „Why did you invite me here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after what happened at the council meeting?“ - was written on the first page. He looked at me for a few seconds, hurt and confusion flashing in his eyes, before he answered. „I invited you because I want to get to know you better, otherwise I wouldn´t have written you this letter.“ Shame crawled into my gut. Of course. „And not only because you´re my mate, but back on Starfall you were the first person in a long time to listen to me without judgement.“ His answer surprised me, as I hadn´t expected him to be so honest and a tickling sensation settled in my stomach when he called me his mate. „So let me ask you, what is your life like? What should I know about you?“ he asked, stopping and staring directly at me with a challenging glint in his amber eyes, lowering his body to tower over me. His hands were crossed politely behind his back.

I pulled a pen from my pocket and quickly jotted down my answer. „You can ask me anything you like. I´ve got nothing to hide, fox.“

Eris laughed at the nickname and it was one of the most beautiful sounds I´ve ever heard. It was a deep and full laugh, smooth as silk and honey and with a touch of incredulity and irony, it melted right into my soul. „Careful, little dove. Foxes have sharp teeth and you certainly don´t want to meet mine.“ His intense gaze should´ve made me nervous, but instead it only spurred me on. In his presence, I didn´t have to play the shy girl or the cursed princess. I felt I could be myself.

„Do you think you can intimidate me that easily, Eris Vanserra? So go ahead, ask me your questions.“ When I showed him what I had written down, he looked back at me with surprise in his features and something else I couldn´t quite put my finger to, so I put on my most defiant expression, raised one eyebrow and dared not look away.

But a cheeky grin crept up my lips, causing me to break the stare and hide my smile, but Eris grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards him, his chest almost touching mine. He was so tall, I had to lean back to look up at him.

„Do that again.“ His breath swept over my face as I blinked at him, dumbfounded. „Smile again.“ So I did and gave him a coy smile. „You have a lovely smile, little dove.“ His other hand came up to caress my cheek, making me blush again. It felt rough and soft at the same time, and a lump formed in the back of my throat as I felt a heat building in my stomach. The tips of my pointed ears flushed. Something about that nickname made me feel... safe. The Eris everyone had told me about wasn´t the one standing in front of me, that´s for sure.

I tried my best not to close my eyes and lean into his touch, not wanting this moment to end.

When the silence turned to embarrassment, he cleared his throat and let go of my shoulder. „I can ask you anything I want?“ he asked, earning a look of annoyance from me in return, and chuckled. „Okay, fine. I´ll leave a couple questions behind. But hurry now, I want to show you something.“ He urged me forward, putting his hands behind my back. „Come on now. Otherwise we´ll miss it.“ I couldn´t hide another grin at his behaviour.

We continued wandering through the woods, and he asked me any question that came to his mind. What do I like eating most? What do I do in my spare time, and what are my favourite flowers? What sights should he visit in Velaris? He was genuinely interested in me and my life, and I happily wrote down my answers to every single question. I `told´ him about my life in Velaris and what it was like to grow up in the Night Court.

At some point during our `conversation´, his questions became even more philosophical. Why are we born into this world? What do I think our purpose is, and do we even have one? I could feel myself relaxing more and more with each question he asked. With every twist and turn around the trees. With every minute the sun set deeper, until the last sunrays fell weakly through the treetops.

Whether it was the fact that I was his mate that drew me to him, I didn´t care. I was beginning to like him. For himself. The self he probably didn´t show very often, if ever, in front of others. I liked him not because of this bond between us, but because he treated me kindly. Because he made me feel like I could be myself around him, and that meant a lot to me. Even though he would never know that.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

It must have been an hour later when Eris ignited a flame in the palm of his hand to provide us with some light. It had gone pitch black now that the sun had finally bid us farewell, only for her sister to shine as brightly as ever on the sky canopy.

My fingertips tingled and a blissful warmth built up in my chest as the heat of the flame gently stroked my skin.

„Don´t worry, we´ll be right there.“ He said, noticing my worried look. I scribbled something on a page and showed it to him.

„Yes, there are. But don´t be afraid little dove, the terrors of the night won´t find or harm us.“ I nodded slowly and closed the journal, putting it back in my pocket.

Two minutes later, Eris suddenly came to a halt and I bumped into his side. We were standing at the edge of a forest glade. The lush grass swayed gently in the night breeze, and the faint chirping of crickets filled the air.

„This is what I wanted to show you, y/n.“ I looked up at him, utterly confused. Even more so when he just smiled at me, the flame in his hand died and Eris started to run out into the field.

I didn´t understand what was going on at first, but what happened then absolutely stole my breath.

Everywhere, fireflies ascended from the grasses into the night sky like lost stars. They danced and swirled around each other, bathing the clearing in a soft green, yellowish light. The crickets acted as a perfect orchestra, playing a sensual waltz as the fireflies soared higher and higher with each note. My mouth fell open and tears formed in my eyes. It was breathtaking. Amazing. Glorious. Without realising it, laughter broke out. But not Eris´s. No, it was mine. I was laughing! Totally mesmerised by the phenomenon before my eyes. A natural spectacle of the greatest beauty. A circus of floating lights. The magnificence of it all poured into my soul, warming me from the inside out as I shivered in anticipation.

Eris turned when he heard my laughter, not even surprised that I actually made a sound, and waved me over. „Come here!“ He called, laughing as well. I walked slowly towards him, trying not to scare the fireflies away. The grass brushed my trousers and caressed my hands as I glided through it. Every now and then a single firefly landed on my shoulder to rest.

When I stopped in front of Eris, he looked down at me with a mischievous grin on his delicate lips. We stood so close I could hear his heartbeat and feel his hot breath tickling the tip of my nose. As we stared at each other in rapt, tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed by... well, by everything. His hands cupped my face, brushing away the tears in comforting circles. „I assume you like it?“ He chuckled and I nodded, looking down. More tears streamed down my cheeks as another laugh escaped my throat. If I had to describe this moment, I´d say nothing but pure joy enveloped my body. „You should laugh more often, little dove. It suits you.“ His soothing voice sank into my being as I peered up at him with big doe eyes. I realised how wild and carefree I felt in his embrace. And how trapped I felt in my own home, with my own family.

The fireflies were reflected in his own eyes. They blended with the honey in them, making them sparkle even more. He looked truly magnificent. I turned around once, gesturing wildly with my hands at the clearing around us, and when I met his gaze again, my lips parted to speak, but I faltered. Instead, I mouthed „Thank you“ and gave him a graceful smile. „I appreciate it, but there is no need to thank me.“ He gestured to the ground and a plaid blanket appeared out of nowhere.

We lay down side by side, gazing up at the fireflies floating above our heads and the dazzling stars on the firmament. I stretched my hand and accidentally touched his. My breath caught for a second, but Eris didn´t pull away, he even brushed his fingers over mine. The gentle movement made me close my eyes and exhaled deeply.

So there we lay. Enjoying this peaceful moment of life together. Right now I didn´t care what my family or anyone else thought about him. I just longed to stay like this forever and never leave this place, even though I knew I had to. But that didn´t matter now.

„I found this clearing when I was a child.“ I opened my eyes and shifted to look at him. „Always ran away from my mother to explore the woods, you know? My brothers tried to follow me, but they could never catch up.“ He huffed. „What can I say? I´ve got some speed.“ I couldn´t help giggling at his own comment. „It´s become a safe haven for me. And it can be a safe haven for you too.“ Interest glinted in my eyes. „I use my magic to keep this clearing out of sight of any unwelcome visitors. In other words, my family will never find you here, so you can come and go as you please.“ I gave him a coy smile. „Only if you want to, of course.“ He added quickly. To show him I understood and honoured the fact, that out of all people he showed me his safe place, I squeezed his hand lightly in mine and the tips of his ears turned a shade darker. Was the Eris Vanserra blushing? Because of me? I tried to hold back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him. As I rolled back onto my back, I tried to pull my hand away, but Eris wrapped his fingers between mine and gripped them tightly. It caught me by surprise, but didn´t bother me at all.

So we returned to staring at the night sky, lying in the grass and listening to the crickets for I don´t know how long.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Cauldron, it´s late! I have to go. I shivered and rose abruptly from the ground, causing Eris to follow my movement. „Wait, y/n! I know you have to leave, but I´ve got one more little surprise for you.“ he said, still holding onto my wrist. He reached into an inside pocket of his tunic and pulled out a long, golden shimmering amulet, adorned with fine, ruby-coloured jewels that glistened under the moonlight. „If you´re ever in trouble, tap the gem in the middle and I´ll know and find you.“ I gratefully accepted the necklace and tucked it safely into my jacket.

„Take care, little dove.“ He said farewell. „Goodbye.“ I mouthed, winnowing home.

Little did I know what was waiting for me in my bedroom.

I flinched, when I spotted my father´s stern face, his arms crossed. „I hope you have a good explanation for why you´re out of bed, young lady!“ His enraged tone made my hair stand on end.

That meant trouble ahead.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

„It´s the middle of the night! Where have you been?“ „We were worried about you. You can´t just disappear, darling.“ „Are you all right? Are you hurt?“

My parents bombarded me with questions and I couldn´t answer any of them. Of course, I didn´t want to tell them that I had gone to Autumn Court to see Eris, because they would probably become even more worried and I didn´t want to risk that.

But apparently I didn´t have to say anything.

My father sniffed the air and before I could cover my scent, he growled. „You were with him.“ His voice was deep and menacing. „I thought we agreed you weren´t to see that... that jerk. He´s dangerous, darling.“ The expression on my father´s face perfectly displayed his anger and disappointment. Something inside me stirred at his insult and I wanted to protect Eris, so unconsciously my hands clenched into fists. „Why did you meet him?“ My mother tried to ease the tension by speaking in a calmer manner than her husband, but I just stood there, frozen, not looking at her.

Sharp talons scraped carefully along my mind, demanding to be let in, but the hurricane that protected my thoughts only tightened, sending my father´s claws away and causing him to flinch at the unexpected defence. I knew he wanted to know what had happened between Eris and me, but he also would never enter my thoughts without permission.

„Do you want to know why we´re not overly fond of him?“ He sighed, his tone was kinder this time, and my mother threw him a glance as if to say, `Are you sure?´

Do I really want to know why they don´t like him? Do I really want to know the answer to that? I wasn´t sure, but in the end my curiosity got the better of me and I nodded.

So they began.

They told me everything as the moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating my room with an eerie light. From Mor´s escape from Hewn City to what Eris had done to her and how Uncle Az had found her on that terrible day years ago. Also that Eris had once hunted my mother. They told me every detail.

„He left her. Eris simply left her on the ground with nothing but a note nailed to her stomach.“ My father´s darkness swirled in the corners of my room as my mother gently stroked his arm to calm him. „I will never forget the moment Azriel brought her back. How he held her in his arms. And I will never forget when he was hunting for your mother, how he…“ he hesitated. „What your father is trying to say, sweetheart, is that Eris is not a good man.“ My mother said. „He is no more a good man than his father. Which is another reason.“

I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe that Eris was the awful man they told me he was, but I couldn´t forget the man I had met. The way he had laughed when we walked through the forest earlier. The way his eyes had lit up when he heard me laughing.

I couldn´t. I didn´t want to!

„The other reason we don´t like him, to put it mildly, is his father.“ She took a deep breath. „You must understand that Beron is... he is a cruel man, honey. High Lord or not.“ „The fact that Eris,“ my father clearly struggled with his next words, „is your mate means that you would live with him at Autumn Court because he´s the heir. But only if the bond snaps for you too.“ He came closer and cupped my shoulders, caressing them gently. „Starlight, don´t get me wrong. I´m more than happy that you´ve found your mate, it´s just that I wish it was someone more trustworthy.“ Slowly he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. „Your mother and I just want to know that you´re safe. And the Autumn Court is anything but.“ Both my parents pulled me into a tight embrace. I let myself be surrounded by their love and warmth, but there was still that feeling. A feeling hidden deep inside my soul that tried to protest. The perfect little daughter, aren´t you? Always obedient and quiet, huh? Before my inner critic got too powerful, I shoved those thoughts away.

„My little star, please promise us you won´t see him again? It´s only for your own safety, okay?“ They looked at me with longing in their eyes. Hoping that I would agree with them. Déjà-vu.

I took a deep breath, silenced my thoughts and looked straight at my parents. I will not back down. Not this time!

Fake happiness sneaked into my eyes and I nodded, making them sigh and give me each a kiss on the forehead. They just have to believe I won´t meet Eris again. But who said I´d actually do it? I wanted to know his side of the story and I would find out, even if it hurt.

With these thoughts, my parents wished me good night and left me alone in my room. I quickly washed myself, put on my pyjamas and lay down. My pillows enveloped me like cotton candy clouds and lulled me to sleep almost immediately.

The evening might have been imperfect in the end, but I wasn´t going to let the conversation with my parents ruin the wonderful experience with Eris. And as I thought about him, I soon drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

It stared at me. The beast without eyes. The beast of many names. It stared. Devouring everything and everyone. Its waves tore at me like a rough wind on a stormy day. It tried to suffocate me. To steal my air. Help me! I need to breathe!

It circled around me and then...! A piercing pain shot through my entire being. It attacked. Again and again. Sinking its sharp claws into my flesh and knocking the air out of my lungs. I was drowning more and more in this all consuming place of nothingness. But this time... something had changed. Something inside me awakened. It growled and fought to get out.

Another cruel pain shot through me, making this creature inside me even angrier. And then I struck back. I kicked into the darkness around me. I kicked and punched in every direction when suddenly a gut-wrenching scream escaped from the depths of my soul and the blackness around me shook. Every fibre of my being trembled and the darkness ripped itself apart until I collapsed, completely exhausted.

My eyes were closed, waiting for the beast to strike again, but nothing happened. No sound, nor any noise could be heard. Just silence, floating like a boat on waves of crystal blue water, and my heavy breathing.

I slowly opened my eyes and sat up. My hands met the ground beneath me. Solid ground! The darkness was still there, but it wasn´t moving. As if watching what would happen next, and just as I was thinking about that, something caught my eye. I turned my head to see a tiny spark glittering in front of me. It flickered again and continued to spread. It grew and grew until a dazzling fire crackled just a few paces out of reach. The flames flickered wildly, and glowing sparks flew in every direction. But instead of backing away, I held up a hand and reached straight into the flames. It should have burned my palm. Burned my flesh down to the bones into ashes. But out of every scenario, it diminished. It calmed down, and its blinding flames retreated, only to reveal a bright orange pelt.

A fox. A little fox sat in front of me, staring at me with its big, black button eyes. It squeaked and sniffed in my direction. There was something familiar about it. The mischievous gleam in its eyes and the tiny, sharp-edged teeth that showed when it yawned. Cautiously he took a step forward. The tapping of his paws echoed through the brightening surroundings, and his fur shone as if it had been born of fire itself. What a beautiful little creature. He took a few more steps towards me and then lay down carefully in my lap. Completely amazed, I reached out to stroke its fluffy appearance. I was even more surprised when the little fox began to purr like a cat, interrupted now and then by a squeak.

I didn´t know where it was coming from, but soft rays of sunlight poured in and chased the shadowy beast back to where it had come from. Something settled deep in my chest and the little creature in my lap stroked its head against my hand. The light grew brighter by the second until my vision blurred.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin @lilah-asteria

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x reader #acotar fandom #fantasy #fanfic

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 2 days

Text

It happens by chance, and while Harry wishes it hadn’t, this will at least clear up any lingering uncertainty for him.

There’s a skirmish between Harry and some friends from the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a couple stray curses happen to catch him – one slices shallowly into his upper arm, the other sends him rolling across the ground. The upshot of this is that the left shoulder of Harry’s shirt is now in ribbons and hanging down around his waist, leaving his chest – and soul mark – bare to the world. Including Voldemort.

Who looks like he’s having one doozy of an emotion.

And that basically confirms the dark wizard hadn’t known, but right now Harry’s bleeding sluggishly and wants to go home and have a drink and pass out for at least a few hours, so Voldemort can rage on his own time. Everyone else from his side has already buggered off, so he’s not abandoning anyone if he does the same.

Unfortunately, the blood loss – while not severe – is enough to slow his reaction time, which leads to him apparating himself and the Dark Lord latched onto him to his flat. Not ideal.

There are a tense few moments of staring at the snake man, waiting to see if he’ll attack or start destroying Harry’s home, but when he doesn’t take advantage – when he just stares and frowns and stares some more – Harry decides he’s too tired for this shit.

“You are just impossible to ward out, aren’t you?” he sighs. The curse of being so physically and magically intertwined with the other man. (Well. And at the soul level, too, but he tries not to think of that.)

Voldemort yanks him by his uninjured arm towards the kitchen light that comes on automatically and stares at Harry’s chest, and the elegantly written Tom Marvolo Riddle thereupon.

Harry scowls when the staring drags on. “Oi, could you quit perving on me and piss off already?”

“You were never going to tell me?” Voldemort demands, ignoring Harry’s half-arsed attempt at distraction.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the Hel would I? Either you already knew and it didn’t matter to you, or you didn’t – and I wasn’t about to risk baring my soul to someone who has a history of wanting me dead.” He shrugs. “I’m reckless, not suicidal.”

Voldemort opens his mouth with an angrily indignant look, and Harry looks to the ceiling for patience before pulling out of the other man’s grip and opening his emergency bottle of firewhiskey, hidden in the pantry, because this conversation needs alcohol. He pours two glasses (his to the brim) because he tries to be a good host, even to the bane of his existence. And if Voldemort doesn’t want it, well, it’ll save Harry getting the bottle out again.

All throughout this, Voldemort is ranting at him. Harry tunes most of it out – he’s had to hear enough of the man’s monologues to know he doesn’t need to listen to the preamble; the meat of his diatribe won’t come until a couple minutes in, at least.

After he casts a quick episkey on the cut on his arm, Harry leans against the counter, watching Voldemort pace around his modest kitchen. He takes a long, slow drink, welcoming the fire flowing down his throat and warming his belly. And either the other man is taking even longer than usual to get to the point or Harry’s more exhausted and irritable than he’d thought, because he’s suddenly completely out of patience with this situation.

He cuts in boredly, “It’s not like it changes anything. It doesn’t matter.”

Voldemort is immediately before him, looming and enraged. “It matters to me!”

“Why?”

“I’ve waited decades for you,” he says vehemently, leaning closer in an attempt to physically intimidate or pin Harry in place.

Harry barks a harsh laugh. “You waited for a fantasy. You’ve spent my whole life killing and hurting the people most important to me. Some silly mark doesn’t change that – it doesn’t make it better, it won’t make me love you.” He takes a sip and rasps through the burn. “It won’t change who you are.”

“I never received a mark–”

“And that’s unfortunate. Clearly it affected you. But plenty of people don’t get soul marks and they don’t commit mass murder and incite civil wars.” He gives Voldemort a dismissive look, standing up straight and slipping out from between the dark wizard and the counter. He can almost hear the other man grinding his teeth.

“You have no idea what it’s like, not having a mark,” Voldemort hisses caustically, face contorted in a furious snarl. “The contempt, the ridicule I had to endure. I was denied one of Magic's basic gifts and they took it as proof they were better than me, those worthless fools.”

It’s difficult to know how he would’ve reacted to not having a mark. His burden has been to have the mark of the worst possible person, and he thinks he’s handled it far better than anyone could’ve expected of him. Having no mark would’ve confirmed that he’s meant to be alone, that there’s no one out there meant just for him, but having Voldemort’s mark as Harry Potter essentially means the same thing.

“Maybe you mutilated your soul too much to deserve a mark,” Harry says in a fit of cruelty. Behind the wrath crackling in the other man’s eyes, he can see the misery bloom. As good as it feels to score a hit against Voldemort, he regrets it even more. And isn’t that the exact reason why this damn war has dragged on for so long?

(Harry pushes that thought away wearily.)

“You had choices, Voldemort, and you made yours,” he says quietly but firmly. “I’m making mine, and it’s that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“This is not a unilateral decision,” Voldemort says, the frustration in his tone edging close to desperation. “Do my wants mean nothing?”

"Your wants." Harry slams his almost empty glass down on the table; his voice comes out dangerously even. “Alright then. Can you bring my parents back to life? No? How about Cedric, or Sirius, or any of the dozens of others whose lives you’ve cut short?”

Voldemort’s mouth is pinched shut, a thunderous frown on his face.

“Hel, let’s start small. Stop this war, swear to never harm another person and get your followers to do the same. You want me to care about what you want? Start by addressing all of that.”

“You ask this of me and promise nothing in return?” Voldemort says bitterly.

“That’s the bare minimum it would take for me to see you as anything more than a murderous, blood-supremacist monster. And I honestly don’t think you can do it, but feel free to prove me wrong.”

That puts an unsettling gleam in the other man’s eyes. Harry thinks back on what he might’ve said to cause that reaction and feels his stomach drop. Oh bother. He’d challenged Voldemort. Harry knows exactly how he'd react to someone saying that; apparently Voldemort is equally competitive (and motivated by spite – he should’ve guessed that).

“...If I am able to–”

“You won’t–”

“When I fulfill your requirements,” Voldemort arrogantly says, face intense. “You and I will explore our connection, and you will meet with me frequently to do so.”

And now Harry is in a quandary. If Voldemort does what he’s been asked, Harry will have achieved what he’s been fighting for all six years of his adult life; if Voldemort doesn’t, Harry’s no worse off than he was before. And he knows the dark wizard won’t give up his cause simply because his soulmate asked, but if Voldemort does…

“You do realise that your soulmate is me, yeah?” Harry clarifies, unnerved by the shift in the other man's demeanour. “You don’t like me. At all.”

“Nonsense,” Voldemort says, waving off Harry’s really very logical point. “We simply haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted.”

“...Because you’re always trying to kill me.”

“Details, details.”

Harry would very much like to strangle the megalomaniac who is still in his apartment. “...Uh-huh. Sure, you become a completely different person and we’ll talk.”

He sometimes forgets that magic occasionally disregards sarcasm. This appears to be one of those times, as the heaviness in the air snaps tight around them, signifying Harry’s flippant “sure” just turned this discussion into a magically binding agreement. Merlin’s pierced nipples. So much for intent over phrasing.

Catching sight of Voldemort’s smug smirk, Harry suddenly feels genuinely homicidal for the first time in his life. Sensing his non-existent welcome is well and truly worn out, Voldemort says, “I look forward to it,” and apparates away. Harry pitches a cushion through the space the dark wizard just occupied. It helps settle his irritation a little.

He drops onto his couch with a deep, bone-tired sigh and tosses back Voldemort’s untouched glass of firewhiskey.

He wonders if he’ll feel disappointed or relieved when Voldemort realises he’d rather keep trying to subjugate Magical Britain than have Harry as his soulmate.

Three days later, the war ends.

#harry potter #voldemort #tomarrymort #soulmate au #soulmate marks #manipulative voldemort #harry is 1000% done #drinking #alcohol

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miller-n-morgan · 1 day

Text

And I Feel Fine (.ii)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: A new journey lies ahead, and on the very first night you become sure of something that will completely change the trajectory of your entire future.

Warnings: leaving most of the warnings the same because they apply. mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. Again, literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 7k (i'm going absolutely wild)

Now we're cookin'.... enjoy this slice of my brain that I spent entirely too long on. And also know that the first part of the Arthur Morgan series will probably drop this week.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.” You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business. “And what makes you think that?” You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

Your contact had gotten you to an apartment. It was worn down, just as every other place in the QZ seemed to be, but it was better taken care of. The people living here must have been attentive about the appearance of their home. A good enough family to leave your baby with.

She stopped you in the hallway, knocking three times on the old wood door, hearing a lively voice from the otherside before it opened. The woman standing there was lovely, about thirty or so, a half smile on her face when she saw you both had arrived. This plan had been in the works for some time now.

“Hello, I’m Maxine Williams,” she greeted, reaching for your hand to shake. You did your best to match her kind and infectious energy, giving her a smile in return. She is after all going to be doing you the favor of a lifetime.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, keeping your head low between your shoulders, though you felt comfortable in her presence.

She leaned into your contact, turning her head, but you heard the whisper “She’s so young…”

“S’why she needs help.”

You understood that this didn’t look right. You should not be pregnant at your tender age, should not have been put in this position. You’ve seen more horrific things than any person ever should, and it all started when you were eight… outbreak day.

“Of course… come in, both of you.”

The pleasantries went on for a while, exchanging information of where you came from, why you were in this area, what you did before being in Boston. She mentioned her husband, her two sons and their love for older things, wishing for the world the way it was. It was all just small talk, leading up to the actual conversation topic: the baby she was about to take off your hands.

“You’ll stay with us until the birth, if that’s okay,” she offered, but it sounded more like a demand. It wasn’t a harsh or cruel one. Even if you slept on the rickety couch you were lounging upon now, it would be better than camping in the woods, sleeping on the hard ground like you’d been doing only a month ago.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Your contact was happy to see both ends so receptive. She’d never seen a deal containing human life go down this smoothly. Probably because this was a bit more sensitive of an exchange.

“Good… that’s good. I’ve heard you’re interested in a closed adoption?”

You glanced down at your stomach, feeling the weight of it, crushing inwards on the rest of your body. Having this baby and giving it away will relieve the weight both physically and metaphorically. They’ll be in good hands, better than your own could ever be.

“I think it’s probably best. I used to have siblings, but I never really took care of them… I’m not sure I could do this,” You shook your head. You saw her younger son peeking his head out of the bedroom door in the corner, backing away as soon as you caught him. Even in an apocalypse, a child can be happy… just not with you. “I want to give them their best chance.”

“I understand… and we’re going to do our best to make sure they have a normal childhood,” she responded, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee.

“Thank you…”

You had sat down on one of the containment units, feeling as though the adrenaline rush from the ambush was beginning to wear off. Tommy found Maria not far away from where you were sitting, and began to ask his special favor. It was crazy, he knew it, you knew it… but it had to be done. This girl was somehow important, to the fireflies and to all of mankind, and you were starting to wonder why. Joel hadn’t said a word, sitting across from you and awaiting the news that would surely come from his brother’s discussion with his wife.

“So, you’ve been traveling with Ellie?”

He looked up at you from his boot laces, his eyes were heavy, and he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He was grumpy in nature, but you could tell there was more underneath the tough exterior.

“I have.” And no further explanation was given.

You didn’t think it was best to keep trying your luck, keep on asking him questions. He wasn’t the talking type and you figured you’d be wasting your time… but speak of the devil, Ellie came up to him just as the conversation between Tommy and Maria was getting heated.

“What’s that all about?” She nodded in their direction. She looked scared, like a deer caught in headlights, just not as frozen. Wide eyed and unable to look away from the scene. “Does that have anything to do with me?”

She was smart, she’d pick up on the words they were saying - more like yelling - to each other. The context clues were there, Joel would have to be an idiot to think she’d just let him off the hook.

“We’ll talk about it later…” he grumbled, his annoyance already at a high from your unimportant questions and the fighting in the background.

“Did he tell you where the lab is?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she got even closer to hear them.

The lab? Is that where the fireflies would be? You vaguely remember the days you spent with the resistance group, but you don’t remember anything about a lab…

“We’ll talk about it later,” he repeated himself, almost as a warning.

She turned to Tommy and Maria, then back to Joel, her face one of distrust and sadness. She knew, she could tell. Joel was trying to get rid of her.

You wanted to say something, to jump in and tell her that she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be worried about where she was going. That you would go with her and it would be okay… but that wouldn’t help a damn thing. Even if you turn out to be her biological mother, you are most definitely not her mom, and cannot console her as one.

“Later… right,” she trailed, backing away from Joel and off to another sectional of the checkpoint.

Joel looked back to you, your eyes already on him.

He sighed, at first not saying a word… but when he made a full rotation of his eyeline and you were still staring holes into him, he had to speak up.

“If you’re lookin’ to judge me, then just-.”

“I’m not.”

Your interruption cut him off, and he didn’t really know what else to say. He nodded, not looking away from you, but rather trying to figure out what it is you needed from him. Your stare was not discomforting but it felt demanding. It wanted something.

“How long have you known her?” You finally spit out, tucking a leg under your elbow as you sat back. You knew you’d gotten his attention, now.

“Few months, now. I’m supposed to take her to the fireflies as a favor to someone.”

“What do the fireflies want with a fourteen year old kid?”

He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug like he didn’t know. He must’ve been lying, right? You’d gotten pretty good at reading people, but for some reason you couldn’t tell with him. Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough…

“M’not really sure. All I knew in the beginning was that I could get paid pretty well, so I took her.”

You nodded. He didn’t seem like the person that did things for the sake of them, Tommy had told you stories about him, the things he used to do. If it was for his survival, he’d do it… but just for the sake of getting paid? When barely anything left had real monetary value? It sounded like bullshit.

“She seems to trust you an awful lot,” you gestured between him and the empty space she’d left.

There was another beat of silence, to which he didn’t use for reply. Instead he sat, his back curled over and his shoulders sunken inwards. He was tired, he was worn. He needed to rest, but this life wouldn’t let him.

“She knows you’re handing her off…”

“I reckon she does, yeah.”

And right over your shoulder you heard the climax of Tommy and Maria’s argument. She held a pointed finger in his face, before he finally insisted on Joel’s plan. She couldn’t move him. He was going to do this whether she liked it or not… which is something you haven’t seen out of Tommy for years. Joel must mean a hell of a lot to him, to up and leave Maria on a dangerous errand like this.

You stay seated when Maria walks over to Joel, and then when Joel stands up to talk to Tommy. You stay seated and think… I can keep Tommy safe. I’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain from learning about this girl. I can bring him home to Maria, even if it means my life.

But you immediately stand when you hear Tommy’s rapid speech. “That girl of yours. she took one of our horses and rode off,” and then he glanced at you with an eyeroll. “She took provoker…”

You huffed a sigh, following the men over to the front of the sectional, the open trail up ahead. Maria was mad at Tommy, so obviously she wouldn’t be accompanying them… and that left you. Casper didn’t like men.

“Damnit, which way?” Joel asked, his steps were heavy on the muddy ground.

“I just saw her riding out of here!” Terry yelled, loosening the reins on two more horses he’d brought over for assistance.

“Alright, get back inside, help the others clean the place up,” Tommy told the man, nodding for you to mount the back of his horse after he’d climbed up himself. You chanced a look at Joel, riding across from you both. His face was mixed with anger and determination, and it reminded you of what Tommy looked like after hours of hunting. They were the epitome of brothers, though you’d never met the other half before.

You all followed the tracks, leading every which way it seemed. Some of the tracks were fresh, and some were older, but it was hard to tell when the grounds here were moist all the time, never really drying up and creating lasting prints on the dirt.

After a while of riding, and running into some raiders - who were easily fended off - you saw your horse standing in front of an old farmhouse, the reins tied to a pole holding up the roof of the porch. You jumped from Tommy’s mare and ran up to Casper, petting his mane and making sure he was alright. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on him.

You watched Joel enter the house, waiting back with Tommy. Even though Joel was the one she ran away from, you couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled to see you or Tommy instead. Joel had a good reason to do what he did. He didn’t feel strong enough or fast enough for this job anymore. He didn’t feel like he could keep her safe. You unfortunately understood that feeling a little too well, and if you were correct on your suspicions, it would have been with the exact same kid.

Tommy unstrapped his gun from his back, holding it steady and watching the surroundings whilst he leaned against the porch beam you were standing by. He was trying to gage whether or not your horse was calm enough for him to approach you closer, knowing what would happen if he wasn’t.

“I think you’re right, you know…” He trailed, his voice quiet on the off chance of an open window.

“You do?”

You turned to him, you didn’t exactly have to think twice about what he meant.

“Yeah,” he nodded, a chuckle falling from his lips. “It makes sense… the timing n’ everything. She looks a hell of a lot like you… and she’s caused about as much trouble today as the first time I met you.”

“Causing trouble is genetic?” You laughed, your eyes watering a bit at the implications he made. She might be yours. Your daughter, who you didn’t think you’d see again.

“Hell, it might be. Your kinda trouble, anyway… stealin’ horses and shit.”

The nod of your head was slow, the thought of this all sinking in. It made perfect sense and yet coming to terms with the facts of ‘it is’ instead of ‘it could be’ makes you feel light headed.

You didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was just trying to make you feel better, but the look on his face told you the former. He wouldn’t just lie to you, he knew you could read him.

“I keep turning it over in my head, tryin’ to think of ways I could prove it to myself… I think just seein’ her was enough for me. I’m remembering things I thought I forgot about a long time ago.”

Now it was his turn to nod, but your moment was caught short when you heard a branch snap around the corner. You instinctively pulled your gun from your pants, holding it out in the direction the snap came from. Tommy raised his rifle, doing the same and gesturing for you to go inside. You both made it in the doorway before the threat made itself known. Two guys, coming around the corner. They hadn’t realized you were watching them yet, but they did a quick scan, making sure there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Get upstairs,” he said in a whisper, but you snapped your head to face him.

“No way, the odds are even if I stay,” you argued, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a fight right now. It was too risky to have you both down here.

“Go tell Joel to get his ass down here, you stay up with the kid.”

“Like hell I’m going up there. Your brother scares me,” you say in a half joking mumble, keeping watch on the two strangers that were now surrounding your horse. They were about to get kicked in the ass if they didn’t step away.

Tommy realizes that them being distracted gives a good amount of time to leave without cover.

“Alright, but you first,” he shrugged a shoulder towards the staircase, and with one last glance to your horse, you left your corner by the window.

You quickly ran up the stairs, ducking a head in a few rooms before finding the one Joel and Ellie were in.

“Get it together, we’re not alone,” Tommy said as soon as you got inside the door.

“I got two walking in,” Joel leaned towards the sliding window to get some eyes on the situation.

“There’s more inside already…”

You backed against the door, Tommy against the dresser on the opposite side. Joel stepped over in front of you, and Ellie behind Tommy. You didn’t realize until now, but taking a glance at Ellie, she looked even worse than when she left. Her face was sullen and her head was dropped. She didn’t seem to be snapping into reality, even with the weight of the situation.

You stayed by her throughout the house, when Tommy and Joel started shooting, you stood in front of her, covering them from back behind. It was weird, these maternal feelings that had never sparked within you before, only now arising for this specific human that had no clue who you were.

Once outside, it seemed strange. The dynamic between the four of you was so incredibly awkward. Everyone was thinking on a different topic, and the silence could echo on for miles. You nodded for Ellie to mount the back of your horse, since she didn’t seem comfortable to ride with Joel for the time being. She climbed up behind you and for a second you smiled, because this is your daughter, you know it… but soon after, your mind quickly succumbed to the general silence.

The nature and scenery surrounding you seemed to be duller than before, the pretty autumnal colors becoming ugly in the sense that you didn’t appreciate them right now. You loved the beginning of fall, but the feelings spread among you are tense and terrible, worse than raking up the fallen leaves before winter.

The feeling never leaves, it stays until you all reach the edge of the town.

“I’m not hungry,” you swore, shoving the extra plate of food away from your placemat.

Manxine’s husband was hungry, and you’d noticed him and his wife being decent enough to give you some of their food the past few days. It wasn’t necessary, because you weren’t working, and you weren’t barely helping them. They were helping you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Taking extra food that wasn’t just lying around felt like stealing. You’d never been a stranger to it before, but these people were far too kind, too gentle. They made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t completely at its end. It still turned, and people were still good, despite everything.

“Yes you are, and you should be,” Maxine pushed the plate back in front of you. Her goal had been to ‘put a little meat on your bones’ as long as you were under her roof.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Promise or no promise, you need to eat more. You’re still too thin to try and survive childbirth, ya hear?” She put the old fork back into your open hand, and you sighed. It was sometimes hard to eat more than you normally did, on the account of your body not being used to it. If you ate more than usual would it make you sick? If you threw up the extra rations they were spotting you, you’d feel terrible, but she kept insisting.

You opened your mouth to take a bite, swallowing it down and feeling the slight discomfort start to settle. Already you’d been eating a lot more than before the QZ, and you didn’t realize how slowly your appetite would have to grow.

After a few more bites you had to drop the fork to your plate, feeling too full already to keep on. You felt terrible, refusing extra portions that were meant to keep you healthy. Whether or not it was caused by the pregnancy hormones, or just your own emotional breakdown, you weren’t sure… but you started tearing up while sitting at the table.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, covering your mouth and sitting back while the tears rolled down.

“Don’t you apologize, sweetheart,” Maxine uttered softly, her presence at your side immediately.

To her, none of this effort was wasted, or overdone. She and her husband, though some of the better off people in the QZ by job merritt, couldn’t seem to have another baby. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, or stress that they couldn’t afford it. It was simply the fact that after six years from their last child, they couldn’t conceive another. This baby, your baby, was going to be a gift to them. They were happy to take any necessary steps into getting you to childbirth.

“I just can’t eat anymore,” you tried to justify your emotions, but now it only looked like an overreaction. People are dying without food, and here you are, crying about there being too much.

“It’s alright. Leftovers don’t go to waste in this house,” she spoke, a bit of a chuckle in her tone, which alleviated some of the pressure you felt.

“Okay,” you nodded, letting her take your plate to the other room, likely where her husband had retired to.

The campfire was crackling, the smoke filling the hazy navy color of the dark sky. Trees had covered it mostly, but there were a few stars peaking here and there. You’d just finished a can of chicken soup, tossing it on the pile that had been started by the others. It was crazy, how you suddenly remembered so much, just by eating food out of a can again. Days on the run, with the fireflies, being a raider even… it all came back.

It had only been a few hours or so since leaving Jackson, but after the fiasco of today, the three of you had gotten extremely tired a lot earlier than you should have.

The three of you meaning: Yourself, Joel and Ellie.

After the silence of the horse ride back to the commune, something had changed. Joel realized not only what Ellie meant to him, but what he means to Ellie. He’d decided Tommy was no longer required, and that he could fare the journey on his own. Of course, you immediately volunteered an extra pair of hands and a quick gun as assistance. To your surprise, it was Ellie who was your greatest advocate. Her, and the fact that you remembered the lab’s location, could probably get her there on your own if you had to.

The mirror building… you don’t remember it being a lab, but as soon as Tommy said the words it jogged your memory.

Now you were here, sitting with your back against a log, and staring holes into the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl.

“Whatch’u lookin’ at?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily reclined against a tree.

You only looked away for a second, too fixated on what was just barely peeking over the collar of Ellie’s shirt and jacket. It had fallen down a bit when she laid down to sleep.

“Nothin’,” you shrugged it off. He was a man of few words, surely he’d drop it on account of having to speak more if he didn’t… but God help him, he’s like a damn cat, his curiosity could kill him.

“You’re very focused on nothin’,” he teased. There was something off about you with Ellie, he’d taken notice of it. He didn’t know what it was about but it didn’t seem like a danger.

You rolled your eyes over to him, but could tell by his glance back that he wouldn’t quit. He’d already volunteered to take the first watch, and he had nothing else better to do.

“It’s a long story, you’d get bored.”

But again, he had nothing better to do.

“Try me,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug of his own. He seemed much more docile of a creature in this setting. The early hours of night, so quiet, and dimly lit. His voice was gentle and his features were soft. He was relaxed.

You took a deep inhale, trying to brace yourself for whatever came of this. He was a fresh face, someone new to explain an old wound to. The scar had finally healed and you were about to dig a blade back through and rip it open… but you suppose you’d sharpened the knife by coming along in the first place.

“I think Ellie’s my daughter,” you breathed out, not checking for a reaction until he’d been silent too long. His eyes were narrow, and he tilted his head, looking between you two. She was fast asleep by now, but he had a picture of her in his head, comparing it to you.

“You’re shittin’ me, right?”

You blew out another long breath, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know this feeling you have or the fact that you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t understand that you’d come to peace with the fact that you’d never see her again, and then she appeared like a ghost from your past. You thought she was your past self at first, taunting you, making fun of who you were now.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.”

You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business.

“And what makes you think that?”

You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

You let your eyes flick up to the stars, hoping by some miracle they will fall from the heavens in the form of angels to give you a message, that message being: shut the fuck up and don’t spill your guts to a man you met this morning.

“When I was thirteen, I was by myself. I fell into a weird group of people that could probably be considered a cult. There was this one guy that treated me better than the others…” you trailed off, not sure if you’re ready to rehash all of this. But it’s been a long time since you talked about it. You need to get it off your chest if you’re to somehow make a relationship with the product of your past. “He was in his twenties, so a lot younger than most people in the group. Pretty sure I was the youngest. I didn’t realize he was using me.”

Joel was tense, but not because he was uncomfortable… he was genuinely invested. Wanted to know this story and how it connected with Ellie. His Ellie.

“We left the group, and I found out I was pregnant a few months later. I’d barely had my cycle a fucking year… wasn’t even sure what it meant when I didn’t get it. Anyways,” you had to stifle a laugh, because just looking back… what the actual hell? You kept blinking to make sure no tears escaped in front of this man. You weren’t there yet with him. “I think he just lost all interest in me after that. He didn’t really speak to me unless it was necessary, and wouldn't look at me. Stuff like that.”

But that wasn’t the worst part, and Joel knew you were working your way up to it.

“Before I was pregnant I used to sneak into places most people couldn’t. I was real skinny like that. Was able to smuggle stuff in and out of different QZs across the country. We peddled rare narcotics for the most part… but I had to stop when I, you know…” you made a round hand motion around your stomach, hoping he got the jist. “I didn’t fit in the smaller spaces.”

“What kind of narcotics?” Joel finally asked a question, and it wasn’t really the one you were hoping for… but you understood he’d probably fallen into the same scheme over the years.

“Vicodin, mostly. Up in Princeton there was this one apartment… we’d searched it top to bottom because of how many secret hiding places there were. Vicodin everywhere. Whoever lived there was either severely addicted or preparing for the worst.”

“Maybe both.”

Yeah, probably. Damn shame he never got to use them.

“We used it as a trading token most of the time. It was actually what got us into Boston,” you waved off your tangent eventually, getting back to the story and where Ellie came in. “Pretty much gave the rest of our stash to a contact we had there… she got us a family we could hand the baby off to.”

And now he got it. You’d been knocked up by a predator, and said predator wanted you to give up the baby so he could go about using you some more. He’d seen and done some cruel things in a post apocalyptic world, but he would never stoop that low, and grimaced at anyone who possibly could.

“I had her when I was fourteen. Lookin’ at her today was like looking in a mirror,” you rambled on, still not quite to your point. “She’s the right age, from the right location… and that birthmark on her shoulder…”

He hadn’t even noticed it all this time. Months with the kid, and he thought nothing of it. But to you, it was clarification. It was the confirming piece of evidence that pulled it all together. You’d barely taken your eyes off of it since you saw it. You wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Wanted to make sure it was the right shape and placement, just so you could be sure.

He nodded, seemingly coming to this conclusion now, too. It didn’t take him any more convincing. It was clear by now that your hunch was not just a hunch.

“Her dad, he still… around?”

You shook your head with a light hearted laugh.

“No,” and you could have left it with that simple answer… but that was never much your style. “I shot him in the head.”

His low whistle cut the air, and you almost felt proud. You’d killed the one thing in life that ever hurt you directly.

“He deserved worse.”

“Yeah, he did.”

And then it was quiet for a minute, all the words the two of you had spoken up until now were rotating over and around in your heads to make sense of them, until he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispered.

“S’okay. Not your fault…” you shook it off. It’s in the past, it’s done.

“Not yours either,” he replied, raising a brow to you. “M’just, sorry you went through that.”

He was soft, he was gentle. You supposed he was like Tommy. He didn’t judge you or make you feel inferior because of your tragic mishappenings. He just listened, and felt sympathy.

“I don’t mind it so much now… I got her back.”

And both your gazes shifted to the sleeping teenager, her breaths steady with the humming of the night around you. She has no clue, and for now you’ll have to keep it that way.

Yeah, you think… I got her back.

It only took two weeks. Riding, eating, sleeping, and talking, rinse and repeat. There was the odd occasion of dealing with infected, but they were never in large groups, and cleared out easily.

You remembered exactly where to go when you entered the city limits, guiding them towards the college campus you once lived in as a firefly. It was almost ten years ago, but you remember it pretty well. It’s where you met Tommy. Not in the lab, obviously. You’d both been put on security detail one morning, having never met beforehand. He proceeded to ‘teach you’ how to shoot a rifle properly, only to find you could hit a perfect bullseye on your first shot. Probably because your dad was a man who loved his guns, and you’d been shooting one since you were a kid before the outbreak. He laughed about it, and you two were friends ever since.

“Are you getting any of this?” Ellie asked you, pulling you from your thoughts as you rode alongside them.

For the last hour, Joel was attempting - and failing - to explain the rules of football to the young Miss Ellie. And she didn’t understand one lick of it, not that you blame her. You’d been to actual football games in your youth, but you couldn’t get it even then.

“Nope, I was always more of a baseball fan…” you trailed, and smiled at the thought. Baseball was fun, you remember it well. It was your biggest obsession right before ballet, and right after fingerpainting.

“Oh really, now?” Joel cut in, his surprise evident in his raised eyebrow and tilted gaze in your direction.

“Yep. You’re looking at the MVP of the Acorn’s jr. little league team.”

Ellie laughed. She didn’t know a thing about baseball either. She’d seen some old collectors cards though here and there. Apparently they used to be valuable. They were only knick knacks to anyone who saw them now.

“What position did you play?”

“Shortstop… or second base, technically. No shortstop in jr. little league,” you admitted. Your dad always called you shortstop, so that’s what you tell people now. Anyone who asks, at least. You can count on one hand the number of people who have.

“Seein’ you around infected… I bet you swung like hell,” he chuckled. Ellie was still confused about the rules of the last sport, much less how to play this one… but she listened intently because Joel was interested, so she was interested too.

“I always got on base, didn’t always stay there, but always got on. Plus, I was the only kid who never picked their nose at the plate, so… Obviously I earned my title.”

“That must’ve been an amazing accomplishment. How old were you?”

From what he understood, you’d been eight on outbreak day. You couldn’t have been too much younger to have started a sport, right?

“Probably six or seven at the time. I did ballet after, had kind of a short attention span when it came to after school activities,” you explained, a smile on your cheeks when you spoke about the things you used to love doing. You probably would still like doing some of them, had they been an option in Jackson.

“I know about ballet!” Ellie jumped in, nearly scaring Joel off the horse. “That’s the dancers that used to wear those weird shoes and shit.”

“Pointe shoes?” You chuckled, more at Joel trying to compose himself than Ellie’s funny recollection of footwear.

“Yeah, those. They looked like torture devices in some of the paintings I saw… did you ever wear any?”

“No, I would have had to train for about five more years to have gotten to that point. That was the dream at the time, to be a pointe ballerina. Of course, the end of the world happened…”

Joel turned to you from his forwards facing stare, a sadness in his eyes before he looked back onto the road ahead of him. Was that… pity? You were slowly learning to read him, his little mannerisms and tells that made him like everyone else, yet just a tad different, in a way that only he could be.

“Maybe after all this is over you can teach me some steps,” she suggested, but you scoffed.

“Maybe,” you shook your head at how funny the thought sounded in your head. You’d only danced for what? Ten months at most? And as an eight year old? “I think you’ll probably be too busy with Joel’s guitar lessons.”

She laughed it off, shaking her head and leaning it back onto Joel’s shoulder in front of her. The three of you kept along until reaching the building you remembered, but instantly it was a disappointment. The fireflies weren’t here, and likely hadn’t been for over a year.

“This isn’t right. There should be a checkpoint set up and a security blockade surrounding the place,” you mentioned, getting off your horse and running up to the door in the front. You peeked inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere.

“You’re kidding,” Ellie grumbled.

Joel dismounted the horse and followed after you, looking around and trying to find any signs that they might have been here at all.

“You sure this is the right place?”

“Positive. I remember this building, I met Tommy right over there,” you pointed down the sidewalk, where a half torn down barricade of cement was still sitting, but just barely. You walked to the corner of the crumbling stairs and grabbed a piece of old broken up brick, chucking it through the front door in order to unlock it.

Joel chuckled for a moment at your frustration, watching the scene play out.

“Baseball… right,” he teased, leading the way inside with you and Ellie in tow.

Maxine’s boys were at Fedra school. Her husband was at work in a different sector. Maxine herself was trading ration cards for supplies. It was the first time she’d left the apartment since you’d been there, and of all days, of all mornings for it to happen… your water broke.

You were alone, and scared. You weren’t allowed to leave the apartment for fear of the neighbor’s suspicion. Maxine’s family would be torn apart by Fedra if anyone found out what was going on, so no matter how terrified you were, you couldn’t risk going outside for help.

“Not now,” you cried, the tension in the pit of your stomach slowly turning to pain when your first contraction started. “Please, kid, I’m begging.”

You suck down against the wall of the living room, trying to find a sitting position that doesn't kill you from the pain. You wished more than anything you had some of those pain pills left over from the exchange, but they would probably only hurt you right now.

“Please, don’t,” you tried to even your breathing, the tears crawling down your cheeks at a fastening rate. “I can’t do this…”

The walls were closing in, you weren’t prepared for this. It didn’t seem to be the right time, either… but it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. The baby was coming, and if you wanted to live to see another day, you were going to have to get your head straight, and push it out of you.

You didn’t know how long you’d have, but from the time your water broke to the last contraction, things were moving relatively quickly. You were still on the ground against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and not make noise.

You hoped and prayed that you would not deliver this baby on your own, but it looked like that was your only option right now. They had all left around an hour ago, they would be gone all day.

“I don’t know what to do, kid… help me out here,” you cried out again, but the baby didn’t exactly listen. You felt more weight bearing down on your lower half by the minute, and all you could do was panic.

It had happened so fast, the attack. Too fast, nothing you guys could have prepared for. It was all within minutes, and the ringing in your ears following your last gunshot seemed to put everything in slow motion. The way Ellie was yelling but you couldn’t hear it, the man that was coming up from behind you, and the one that was wrestling with Joel near the edge of the rail.

Too fast, the man on your rear grabbed at you and pulled backwards, keeping you from being able to stop Joel’s attacker… You got trapped in a headlock, a gun to your temple, and another man was about to get Ellie. Joel and his attacker broke through the railing, tumbling over the edge and falling into God knows what. You sunk deadweight in the man’s arms, letting Ellie shoot him with her raised gun before you shot the man coming for her.

She ran to the edge first, freezing as she looked down. You followed and peered over, unsure what you would see.

“Shit,” you lowered yourself to a sitting position before scooting off the edge and dropping down to where he was. Your voice was in a panic “Joel?”

He was alive, but fatally injured if you didn’t get him out of here right now.

“I’m gonna need you to pull,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His face was scrunched in pain, and you knew better than anyone how hard it was to stay quiet when you’re hurting that bad.

“You could bleed out,” you shook your head, kneeling down and flinging off your backpack. Digging through, you only have the most basic of supplies… nothing substantial enough to stop mass amounts of blood, or, worst case scenario, a deadly infection.

“Just pull, damnit,” he grunted, offering his hand.

By now Ellie had come down, watching in fear as the only figure of importance in her life was nearly on his deathbed. It couldn’t be exaggerated because it really was that bad. He could drop down at any moment and never get back up, but he kept pushing on.

You did as he asked, hoisting him to a stand, letting him lean on you for support. Ellie went on ahead, leading the way as she cleared the place with her own gun. You had to assist here and there, unwilling to let Ellie get shot on account of holding Joel up on his feet.

It was practically a miracle that any of you made it outside. Your horse had already taken care of a raider, it seemed, the man lying unconscious on the ground behind him. He likely got to close, touched him, even. Ellie shot the last obstacle standing between you and an escape, and once he was cleared, you mounted your horses, helping Joel onto his, first.

You rode in front of them, looking for a place to take shelter. Looking for an empty house, or gas station even. Anything would work, as long as it was safer than here. You rode for miles down the road, unsure if there were people in the area. You’d finally reached a neighborhood of substantial size, with no signs of life or proof of human activity.

But before you could even find a safe shelter…

“Joel? Joel!”

And you quickly turned around. Joel fell off the horse, out like a light.

Tags: @orcasoul

#joel miller #reader insert #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel

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clumsykleptorocketscientist · 1 day

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Can I just say, whoever Nancy ends up with, be it Jonathan or Steve or neither, it is not what matters the most about her character. HOWEVER, I really don't think she should end up back with Steve. Steve is not a bad guy in the slightest. He is one of the best guys and characters in the show. But, he and Nancy want different things and I think that's really important to focus on, because it's why they don't work. Steve talks about how he had this fantasy with Nancy as a mother to his children, and that's okay that it's what he wants from a partner, but Nancy doesn't. Remember the argument her and Jonathan had all the way back in season 1 where Jonathan mentions her "rebelling" and then settling down with Steve just like her mother (which Ted and Karen Wheeler should NOT be your romantic goals). It's clear she doesn't want to do that. She literally wants to fight the government and the patriarchy, seen especially in season 2 where she wanted to "burn the Hawkins lab to the ground" and season 3 where she wanted to stick it to her douche bag bosses. Jonathan, I don't think he wants that perfect family either. He seems perfectly fine with helping Nancy do all her illegal shit. He's fine with standing on the side, holding the camera and telling her that she's doing amazing sweety. Of course, if Nancy ends up on her own, that's fine, although I LOVE Jancy especially for the dynamic of it's them against the world. I just don't think Steve and Nancy rekindling their romance is the best idea.

Quick side note, I like the idea of Ronance, but I personally love Jancy and, from the few bits I've seen, Robin and Vickie ( Rovickie? Unsure if the ship name).

Edit: Let me just address some things.

A.) I think Jonathan talking about going to the community college and not wanting Nancy to follow him and resent him wasn't saying he could ONLY see the relationship becoming loveless, he was just saying that the plan they had was not working for both of them. That he had to deviate, but it doesn't mean Nancy should and he was afraid she would and inadvertently ruin what they had. In a round bout way it's a preservation move. Going to a college because your girlfriend or boyfriend is, is never a good thing. Now, yes, Jonathan and Nancy's relationship seems strained. I don't want to say loveless, but strained. But Jonathan has been in California for awhile now so that's bound to happen. I do think there is still love there, it's just difficult to navigate and they're still technically teenagers ( in the show). I'm just saying strained, yes, but loveless, no.

B.) In season 2 Jonathan was very much willing to help her burn the lab to the ground. They knew it was dangerous, but they did it anyway and he supported and helped her. Season 3 while, yes, at first Jonathan did not want to rock the boat at first, it was because he needed that job. Think about where he comes from vs. where Nancy comes from. Really in that argument, I see both sides. Sexism bad but also he needs a job for his family. Anyway, he came around in the end, from what I remember, which again is difficult with the money decision. Again sexism is bad but he never dismissed that the bosses were douches, just that they needed to put up with it. Something I'm very sure he changed his mind about.

C.) When I say that Nancy doesn't want that, I mean that Nancy doesn't want to be like the perfect mom Steve's fantasy has her to be. I never meant no family, just no perfect family. That if they did have a family they would teach their children to make waves because " Nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world."

D.) as for Steve wanting Nancy in his future and that's all that matters, yeah I may have misread that maybe, but the perfect mom scenario he painted just wasn't something I agree with. But, hey, that's just me.

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #steve harrington #jancy #nancy wheeler is a badass

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nikethestatue · 2 days

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Chapter XVI

You Are the One

One time, Elain Marie Paige Archeron had everything she ever wanted. She had love. A love that was pure and clean and genuine. A love that did not ask for anything in return. The kind of love that was true, and kind, and forgiving, and protective. She couldn’t remember a time when she laughed as much as she did in the last three months. She recalled waking up every morning for the past three months and feeling lighter, like there was joy and a promise of good things. Now, in hindsight, she realised that it was because she was in love. But also because she was loved. No one’s ever loved her like that before. No one looked at her in the same way, like she was precious. Like she mattered. Like she was someone’s favourite thing in the world.

Only Elain Archeron did not hold on to that love.

She took it for granted.

She took the man who offered her his devotion and his loyalty and his unconditional, undeniable and passionate love for granted, never thinking that she’d ever lose him.

But she did.

She lost Azriel.

“Remember, darling, that’s nature…simple biology,”

“Daddy, you aren’t going to be talking about how babies are made?” Elain sniffled, half amused, half horrified.

Her father smiled a sad smile and shook his head no.

“You have to remember that it’s the sperm that chases the egg. It’s the man who pursues the woman. Not the other way around. A man will chase and will not give up until he gets that sperm into the egg.”

“Ew, dad!”

“You are a big girl, my pretty rose. You know what I mean.”

Elain considered his words, and as graphic as they were, they also made sense. He was correct.

“Love was invented to make nature more palatable,” he continued, “but biology never changed. It’s still about the sperm and the egg. Therefore, let him chase you. And if he doesn’t, then you’ll know the answer. But never chase a man, sweetheart. It’s his nature, his responsibility and his destiny to chase after a woman.”

She sighed and looked out the window.

It's been almost two weeks and Azriel hasn’t sought her out. The sperm hasn’t chased the egg. Azriel hasn’t chased her at all.

At first, it was just…silence.

For four days, it was silent.

Her texts went unanswered. There were no call backs. She even went old school and sent Azriel an email! And that didn’t get a response either.

She was ready to go all the way to Canary Wharf and be the weird girlfriend who busts into her boyfriend’s home and starts to demand answers.

But he finally messaged her with a one word text: ‘training’. That’s all it said. No apology and no explanation. Not an ‘I am sorry for ignoring you’ or ‘I’ve been swamped with the team stuff’. No, she didn’t get anything other than ‘training’.

And so, Elain had changed her mind about trekking to Canary Wharf and waited. Training would eventually be over and he would be back. He'd return to her. Elain wanted to be an understanding girlfriend, who was going to support her man. She realised that he needed to get back into the groove of the game after his injury and get his body back in playing shape. Therefore, when Saturday came about and Arsenal was playing Luton Town, she dutifully turned on the telly and listened to the pre-game broadcast while Piglet raced upstairs and then came back with his red jersey, tossing it to her and urging her to dress him in it. He already knew what he needed to wear when Azriel was playing, and even though he made a mess in his cubby, turning it out and tossing all the other things on the floor, Elain thought that it was too cute how he got so excited and was behaving like a proper little fan.

They watched the game, with Piglet sitting there, enraptured, and howling happily every time Azriel appeared on the screen. How Piglet recognised him, Elain didn’t know–she once hid under a blanket for 10 minutes, and her pug was wandering around in confusion, looking for her, never thinking to pull the blanket off. But here, he somehow was eagle-eyed and was spotting Azriel among the tiny players on the screen.

While Piglet was innocently happy to watch the game, hopping and rolling around, Elain’s mood was more subdued. She did take a photo of the pug and sent it to Azriel. When the game concluded, and Arsenal had won, she messaged him and said ‘Congratulations! Brilliant game’.

Thanks.

That’s what Eain got in response to her message from Azriel.

Thanks.

Angrily, she waited for more, but nothing else came.

Because if he’d responded, she’d confront him and give him a piece of her mind. What did she do to him?? She was a somewhat reluctant girlfriend, but she had the right to be reluctant. He moved like a freight train, but she was more cautious. Besides, she’s lived through many heartbreaks before and every single man that she’s been with has broken up with her. She never broke up with anyone–all the breakups were initiated by the men. And it looked like the pattern was continuing, unbroken. Azriel was also fed up with her and was breaking up.

That night, after the terse ‘thanks’ Elain closed her bedroom door, so Piglet wouldn’t hear her, and wept.

She wept for herself, for her lost love, for her stupidity.

She cried tears of anger, feeling rage sweep over her, cursing Azriel under her breath, calling him names. She was so angry. Angry at him for making her fall in love with him. Angry at him for making her feel. For having hope. Feelings and hope were things that she long ago placed in a place that she did not access and longed to forget. She hated Azriel Night for making her think that she could be loved, with a passion and devotion that Rhys offered her sister Feyre. She hated him for being even worse than Eris. At least Eris never offered her false hopes–he was what he was and she knew that going in. There would be no sweeping her off her feet by Eris. But Azriel…No, Azriel was gallant and strange. He courted her with ferocious intent and was not shy about showing her, and everyone around them, how much he wanted her. He loved her dog. He cooked for her. He cared for her. He cherished her. He joked, but he never pushed her into an uncomfortable place. She didn’t expect to find him and somehow, he landed on her doorstep. Literally. The old saying ‘it will happen when you least expect it’--well, it happened to her. She didn't expect him to sweep into her life and just overtake her whole existence. Because he did. And she hated him and herself, for allowing him so much power over her. She’d given him everything–her heart, first and foremost, but also access to her home, to her sanctuary and to her family. Even her father had accepted Azriel as an appropriate match for his beloved Elain. Elain was her father’s princess. She was the one he loved the most, and the one who gave him the most worry. He’d been lukewarm on Eris, despite Eris’s title and background. But Azriel–Azriel’d wormed his way into Sir Charles’s heart and Elain’s father came to like Azriel quite a bit.

But he never called.

At some point, while operating like a zombie day in and day out, Elain couldn’t stand it anymore and swallowed her pride and messaged Gwyn Berdara.

She was mentally exhausted, thinking nonstop about Azriel and why he was acting the way he was acting. Unable to bring herself to reach out to him yet again, and receive yet another awful, one word answer, she opted for contacting Gwyn. She had no feelings about Gwyn either way–she’d only met her twice in person, and Gwyn wasn’t memorable enough for Elain to develop a strong opinion about her. But Gwyn didn’t respond to her either. Elain had sent a nonchalant sort of message of: Good morning! How are you? Just checking in to see how things are going with Azriel Night? I didn’t want to bother him as he is training and playing right now, but I am curious about your progress with him?

The message remained unread.

However, Elain Archeron did not need to wait for long to get answers to her questions. They came a day later, courtesy of the Daily Mail.

Another Mystery Woman for the Rackish Lothario?

Azriel Night, Captain of Arsenal, never one wanting for female company, has been spotted at The Devonshire with a new companion.

It seems that only a few months had passed since he was photographed on the streets of London carrying another woman in his arms following an attempted robbery. He’d been previously seen with the beautiful partner, now identified as Lady Elain Archeron, on more than one occasion. Hello Magazine even published a holiday spread of the lovely Archeron sisters and their partners in their Christmas edition. London society is still buzzing over the surprise marriage of Lady Feyre Archeron and Lord Rhysand Darling back in December, and over the budding romance between Lady Nesta Archeron, the Duchess of Velaris and Mr. Cassian Night (Azriel Night’s brother).

By all accounts, the romance between the gorgeous aristocrat and Mr. Azriel Night was going splendidly and he’d been seen leaving her luxurious Russell Square townhouse, and even walking her pug, all through the month of December. However, it seems that their relationship is now on pause.

Mr. Night had been spotted dining at the upstairs restaurant at The Devonshire in the company of another woman. The yet to be named companion and Mr. Night enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Soho hotspot, dining on Roast Rib of Beef, all the trimmings and sticky toffee pudding.

After so many trials and errors, will this one be the one to capture Azriel Night’s heart forever?

He was at The Devonshire on Sunday–the Sunday when it was Elain’s turn to cook Sunday roast. When everyone had come to her house for lunch. And by everyone, she meant–everyone. Rhys. Feyre. Her father. Nesta. CASSIAN. Cassian Night, who introduced her and Azriel, was at her dinner table, eating roast chicken and buttery peas. But his brother, Elain’s boyfriend, was on a date with someone else.

A more awkward lunch couldn’t be imagined into existence, even by a talented writer.

Nesta was seething, smoke coming out of her ears. Cassian looked pained and uncomfortable. Rhys didn’t fare much better.

But it was Piglet who broke everyone’s hearts. He sat by the front door for three hours–waiting for Azriel to arrive. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat. He waited.

And waited.

The whole family was here, and surely his dad would come as well. So he waited. He paced and then he lay on the floor, and he looked at the door, blinking his big brown buggy eyes.

Only Azriel never came.

It was a few days later, when Elain on on break between meetings and arranging dates that her phone lit up with a message. She looked at it and her face dropped.

Gwyneth Berdara

Hi Elain! Things are going well, thank you for asking. How are you?

Elain Archeron

I am well, thanks! Forgive me for bothering you,

Gwyneth Berdara

It’s no bother! I apologise for not responding sooner. I had a presentation to create and it took all my energy and time! 😀

Elain Archeron

I can only imagine. I was just wondering how things are with Mr. Night?

Gwyneth Berdara

We made the Daily Mail. Can you imagine? The one time we had lunch together. I can’t imagine spending all my life being hounded by journos

Elain Archeron

Oh, have you? I wasn’t aware that you were in the paper!

Gwyneth Berdara

😂 😂 I am suddenly a mini celebrity. Haha. I am only joking. But honestly? Don’t laugh, but we are mostly talking about football and working out. And hand to hand combat.

Elain Archeron

You are interested in hand to hand combat??

Gwyneth Berdara

I’ve been studying. Self-defence first, and then I got interested in other things. He is showing me some sicke moves!

Elain Archeron

? Okay. I guess thank you for getting back to me. Let me know how it progresses.

Gwyneth Berdara

Will do. Also I didn’t realise the two of you were so close. He talks about you a lot. I know you were his matchmaker too but it’s like you are his GF or something.

Elain Archeron

Well, no worries. I am not. Thanks. Bye.

Elain was even more confused and upset about things after that bizarre exchange. Also, who used the expression ‘sicke moves’?

Professor Gwyn was into hand-to-hand combat? And Azriel was teaching her ‘sicke’ moves? Elain knew that Azriel was a fighter and grew up rough, but…what?

There was no clarity around what was actually happening between Azriel and Gwyn after all that, and Elain only grew more and more anxious.

Another Sunday.

It was Nesta’s turn to cook and host, however, Sir Charles insisted that his daughters come to his house instead. And for that, Elain was grateful.

She was even more grateful to her sisters, who’d arrived without their men. She knew that they were lying when they said that both Rhys and Cassian were ‘busy’ on Sunday, but nevertheless, she was grateful to them. She didn’t think that she could handle another painfully awkward lunch with the handsome brothers who looked entirely too much like Azriel, and with her grieving pug.

She was seated on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her chin resting on her folded hands, as she looked out the window. It was raining. Rain. Rain. Rain. Endless fucking rain.

She barely bothered today–her appearance was sallow and unkempt. She tied her hair in a messy bun, wore a beige jumper and a pair of yoga trousers–attire which was entirely inappropriate for Sunday lunch and not something she’d ever dare leave the house in. But she just couldn't bring herself to care. When the butler opened the door, he stepped back, lack of recognition evident on his face, before he quickly gathered himself and said, “Lady Elain, good afternoon. Please come in.”

Her father, and neither of her sisters comment on her appearance and the maudlin way that she moved around the house, with Piglet trailing behind her, his nose to the ground. No one was surprised when she went to her father’s study and curled up on the sofa, like she did when she was little.

“He’s lost weight,” Sir Charles noted, as he stroked Piglet’s back, while the pug lay unmoving in his lap.

“Two kilos,” Elain said, looking out the window. Expensive cars rolled down the street, taxis and stray pedestrians huddled under their umbrellas. Late January was miserable. Even the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace didn’t make a difference.

“That’s a lot for a pug,” her father commended. “Is he not eating?”

“He eats, but he doesn’t ask for snacks and mostly he just sits by the door,” Elain answered and wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“Elain,” he began saying, but she rose up swiftly and rubbed her eyes vigorously.

“I am okay, daddy,”

“No you aren’t,” he said sadly. “No you aren’t”.

She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Nothing much mattered.

“Let’s go eat.”

Just then, a knock on the door informed them that lunch was indeed served.

At least life was predictable. Pleasantly predictable here, with her family. There were no treacherous men and no disloyalty.

Feyre and Nesta were already at the table, their expressions worried, even though they tried really hard to act normal.

“Hi Piggy, come here little boy,” Feyre tried to summon the pug, but Piglet didn’t even look at her and just went to his bowl, sniffing disinterestedly at the chicken and rice offering.

Once the wine was poured and the soup was served and the butler left the dining room, Nesta, who’s been clutching at her spoon like she was going to lunge at someone with it, snarled,

“I have to say something,”

“Don’t say anything,” Feyre warned. “Nesta. Don’t.”

“That utter arsehole,” Nesta ignored her youngest sister and clutched at her napkin until her knuckles were white.

Sir Charles winced, knowing that the lunch was about to descend into chaos.

“Girls,” he began with a sigh, but suddenly was interrupted by Elain.

Her voice was monotone and she spoke without inflection, staring straight ahead.

“If I die before Piglet,” she said calmly, while the rest of her family tensed and stared at her with apprehension, “show him my body.”

“Elain,” Feyre gasped. But Elain ignored her and continued,

“Bring him over to my deathbed. Allow him to smell me. He will understand death. He will understand that I was gone and that I would not be coming back. Allow him to mourn me. But do not attempt to spare him the sight of me and my death. He should know that he was not abandoned. He must know that I died, but that I did not leave him. He must understand that unlike others, I did not abandon him. Not like his first family and not like Azriel. He should not be waiting by the door for me to come back. Take him to the funeral and allow him to watch me be lowered into the ground so he understands the finality of it all. He must know that Elain loved him and did not leave him on his own. She was not like Azriel. She never lied to him.”

What Elain had missed the most was the casual intimacy.

As another week passed and January was coming to a close, Elain’s life returned to its natural, if boring routine.

She worked, taking on more clients–thank god for January and ‘resolutions’ and people wanting to couple up–and that took a lot of her time. She was grateful for the distraction, but the nights and the weekends were tough.

Most evenings, she cried herself to sleep, while remembering all the good things that she’d lived through with Azriel. He wasn’t dead, yet the fissure of emptiness inside her chest that was created by his absence really felt like he had died. There was something unsaid and unfinished about them, which bothered her like a toothache. It was a wound which she kept irritating every time she remembered something about him.

How he was so effortlessly sexual with her, and how his relaxed sensuality allowed her to feel free with her own sexuality for the first time in her life. To Azriel, she was beautiful. Always beautiful. Never awkward or chubby or clumsy or strange.

The way he would habitually slap her bum, every time he passed by her. Or pinch it. Or caress it. Or cup it in his large hand. At first it scandalised her. And then, she grew to love it. She grew to expect it.

The way he strutted around after a shower in only a towel wrapped around his hips, showing off his incredible body…goodness gracious! That was something to behold! The way she learned all the details of his form, no matter how insignificant–his tattoos, the shape of his shoulders, the thickness of his biceps, how his neck was a touch too long for his body, but how that made him appear more graceful. She knew exactly how many abdominal muscles he packed–more than six, and definitely eight, and she knew the shape of his long strong fingers. His hair curled slightly in the back of her neck. His hazel eyes had more green in them than brown, and were peppered with black specks. He had perfect toes. The V of his hips could only be called vicious, because it was so sharp and pointed right at his…The one thing Elain never got to see. She never saw his member. Felt it, knew that it was worryingly large and thick, but she never saw it.

She supposed that she always thought that they’d have more time.

She recalled how one time, they were in a restaurant. It was moderately busy and they were seated by the window. It so happened that there was no one at the table in front of them, or by their side. So what did he do? He parted her shirt on her chest, and when she thought that he’d just cop a feel–something he did often and without hesitation–he bared her breast completely and tugged on her nipple, while kissing her lips. She sat there, completely delirious with love and arousal, while he pinched and rolled her nipple in his fingers, while squeezing her bare tit in his palm. Just as the waiter approached, he tucked her back in and acted like nothing happened.

She missed him.

Sometimes, she screamed into her pillow, a long, tortured scream because she…well, she missed him. There was nothing that could replace him in her life.

She loved him. Loved him when they were together, and loved him now–perhaps even more than before.

He rang her.

Once.

It was a day like any other. A blustery wintry afternoon, only 5 pm and already pitch black outside. Though slowly, but surely the days were getting a bit longer. Just a little. It was early February and Elain just changed into her comfy joggers and a sweatshirt having just come back from walking Piglet. He hated being outside, especially when it was cold and drizzling, and thankfully, it was a quick walk and he did his business in record time.

For some reason, it didn’t register with Elain that it was Azriel’s name on the Caller ID.

She’d become so used to his calls and messages that it seemed normal that he’d be ringing her.

“Hello,” she said.

He seemed surprised when he said, “Hi Elain”.

Everything stopped.

The moment she heard that voice, that achingly familiar, smooth, deep voice she felt her hands shake, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

She threw her phone on the counter as if it burned her and then, with her finger trembling, pressed the ‘speaker’ button.

“Why are you calling me?” she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Why?” she asked again, and to her horror her voice was already hoarse and weak, and she sounded strangled. Because there were tears in her eyes and she was hyperventilating.

“How are you?” he asked softly instead.

How was she?

How dare he?

How was she?

She howled like an animal in her sorrow over losing him.

She cried.

She screamed.

She wondered what she'd done and why he just left her without an explanation?

She didn’t eat.

She didn’t sleep or she slept too much.

“Fine. Brilliant. All good,” she laughed a dry, angry laugh. “I am sure you are doing well too, right? How’s Gwyn?”

He sighed, like the sound of her voice pained him.

“I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he told her somberly, ignoring her question.

“Well, it was your choice, wasn’t it?” she reminded him.

“I suppose?”

It sounded like he wasn't sure.

“What do you want, Azriel?” she demanded.

“How’s Pink?” he asked instead.

“What do you want to hear exactly?”

Did he want to hear about Piglet crying by the door?

Did he want to hear about Piglet avoiding any football on TV and barking violently for her to change the channel if he saw anyone running on a green field?

Did he want to hear about Piglet sitting and waiting for him for hours, day after day, hoping that his dad would show up?

“You abandoned him,” she accused him savagely. “I told you not to make him fall in love with you. I told you not to allow him to get attached to you. I explicitly told you that this would happen if he thought of you as his own.”

“I am sorry,” he whispered brokenly.

“You did it all. You hurt us, Azriel. What do you expect to happen now?” she questioned him, feeling her voice becoming hysterical. “Two brothers and two sisters together at Christmas. A third sister alone. A third brother who used to date the third sister is now with some random woman. Is this your vision? For all of us to play happy families? Like nothing’s happened. Like we didn’t exist. Like what we had didn’t matter??”

“He did matter,” he argued. “It does.”

She ignored him.

“Cassian and Nesta are dating now. Feyre and Rhys are married. Instead of leaving me alone–like I requested, over and over again–you made me fall for you. Fall in love with you. And then you tossed me aside.”

“You love me?” he breathed a shocked gasp.

“What?”

“You said you fell in love with me,”

“You are unbelievable,” she cried out. He was always deranged, but now he was even more incomprehensible. What was wrong with him?

“My dog is screaming any time he sees Arsenal signage. My heart is shuttered. Is that what you wanted?” Elain broke down in tears. “Is that what you wanted?

“I never wanted that,” he argued quietly. “I never,”

“What did you think would happen?” she insisted, sobbing. “That I can just walk away?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice devastated. “It all spiralled out of control…I didn’t want any of this.”

She wasn’t listening to him.

She cried.

Cried for her lost love. Cried for the children she’d never have with him. Cried for the future they’d never have. Cried for not knowing what his perfect day consisted of. Cried for the Christmases they’d never celebrate together again. Cried for his touch and for his kisses and for him next to her in bed. Cried for the games she’d never cheer at. Cried for knowing that she’d never see him snuggling together with Piglet.

She cried and Azriel listened.

She didn’t know how long it lasted–felt like an hour–and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t comfort her, but he didn’t ask her to stop either.

At some point, Piglet came over. He looked up at her, watching her weep, and whimpered sadly, before curling himself at her feet.

“I am sorry, Elain,” Azriel whispered at last.

She quieted down, before telling him,

“I wanted to be your wife, you know. I wanted to build a family with you. I wanted to have your children.”

“I understand. And I am sorry.”

“I wish you happiness, Azriel. Even if you robbed me of mine.”

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