#he calms down a little and focuses it more on our family and us

[strawberrystepmom]

Kendall :(((( mid-forties husband gojo who still teases & flirts with you each day :((( never looses his boyish charm :((((

meeting up with the kids who are now fully grown with their own lives and dreams and children (some of them!) and they’re like he looks at you the exact same way he did back then :((((((((((((( what if I perish

[lucysstoryworld]

The Tormented & The Unforgiven | Azriel x Reader

Summary: What happens when one of Azriel's most trusted spies, someone he is beginning to care for, betrays him?

Warnings: This is dark and quite graphic. Abuse, torture, waterboarding, death. MDNI. Angst.

Word Count: 7,558

Masterlist

This wasn't happening... this was all just a sick nightmare. You'd wake up at any moment now, tangled in the sheets of your bed. The sun rising over a cool winter morning and trickling through your window would lull you from your slumber at any moment, you were certain. You tried to pinch yourself and were met with a tug. As if on cue, a dull yet deep ache permeated from your shoulders to your arms. A tingling feeling vibrated your fingertips, chained above your head. Oh... yes. Breaths rattled through your lungs, a crackling filling the dank space.

Definitely not happening... surely not.

Opening your eyes was a chore. They stung, the faelight from the hallway burned your retinas. A low hiss and another attempt later, your eyes remained open. The ache in your neck felt insignificant compared to that of those pulsing at random points in your body. The gorsian shackles choking your wrists and ankles ensured the pain would last. An low, agonised moan escaped your lips.

Definitely is happening. The agony that spread through every nerve of your body was all the proof you needed. Raising your head, you desperately tried to clear the fog. You were suspended from the ceiling with gorsian shackles, with matching chains gripping your ankles. The smell of damp and mould was almost as distracting as the cold that nipped at your body and heightened the ache of your injuries. There were small puddles on the floor beneath you, a leaking roof too - high risk of infection to the wounds that were littered across your body. Your mind was still lagging behind reality, your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. Breathe. Remember your training.

A deep breath in, you focused on filling your lungs to their capacity. Pursing your lips, you blew the breath out slowly. Your focus remained solely on controlling the exhalation, all the way until there was nothing left. You repeated this twice more, just as your boss had trained you. Our job can be terrifying at times, this technique can help you focus and bring your heart rate down. Make our decision making more rational, he had said. He was right, you had come to realise. The breathing exercise had allowed you to calm down on more than a handful of occasions. That being said, it did not make your current situation any easier to understand. You remembered how you got here now... and you still couldn't wrap your head around it.

***

It was a normal day, for you at least. Returning from a mission a day previous, you had today to report your findings to Azriel and to rest. Exhaustion laid heavy on your body, the mission had been a long one with little reward. Although every mission had been similar to that as of late. While Eris was to be somewhat trusted, as Azriel had put it, it would be unwise to not send his own spies to make sure the High Lord and Lady were not being blindsided. So that was your detail. Stake out the Autumn Court and High Lord Beron along with his family. Figure out what was occurring behind the curtains and try to discover Beron's motives... at least so Azriel didn't have to rely on the word of Eris Vanserra. Though your boss had warned you to keep as much distance as you could, with all the Autumn Court soldiers being bewitched he did not wish that fate on you or any of your colleagues... yet you couldn't help the flutter in your heart when he had expressed this concern while looking directly into your eyes. You allowed yourself the small comfort (or delusion) of believing he told you this because he cared about you.

You used to have a rendezvous point with the Spymaster. Yet, after a rough mission in which you were too incapacitated to move from your bed, it soon became the routine for you and Azriel to debrief at your home. Not that you were complaining. You lived a solitary life being in your line of work. There were no records of your existence anywhere, no family to remember you nor any friend to seek your company. A truly invisible female. Apart from Azriel of course, though you were sure he did not see you as a friend or even acquaintance, just his employee. Not even his second in command. Though it did not stop you from feeling excited by his visits. They reminded you that you were alive. That you, at least, had one person who knew of your existence. So, with the butterflies of a youth in your stomach, you prepared for your visitor. You had already written out your report and left it sitting on your living room table. You had dressed in your usual style, and waited for Azriel to come to your door. The rushing of the Sidra filled your living area through the open window. Your generous salary as a spy allowed you to build this house, along the youthful stage of the river where it raced downhill and eventually through Velaris. You had not yet laid your eyes on the city that was only a depiction in your mind from how Azriel had described it. You knew he trusted you at least that much, to allow you to know where he resided. He had once offered to bring you there. Then the war happened and it became the last thing on either of your minds.

A series of knocks pulled you from your wandering thoughts. The seemingly nondescript rhythm of taps on the door made sure you knew who was on the other side. You fought back the slight grin that threatened to widen. You chided yourself, you were acting no better than the human females in the tales of princesses and knights you had read as a teenager. Your teenaged years had been rough, you had travelled up and down Prythian five times over, stealing and tricking to get by. You knew you wouldn't live as long as other fae did back then, your way of life bound to end you sooner rather than later by means of starvation or by disgruntled merchants. The books you nicked from time to time allowed you to fall into a different reality for a short while where life was much simpler. Where life consisted of whether or not the stars would align and let the princess remain with her true love. A moment later, you opened the door with the signature smile stretching across your lips. As quick as your smile appeared, it disappeared. Azriel was not alone.

Standing beside your boss was another Illyrian male few inches shorter though no less intimidating. For every blue siphon Azriel possessed, this male had just as many red ones. This must be Cassian, the General. You glanced at your boss warily, feeling slightly betrayed by him as your privacy was breached. Though from the look of his amber gaze, you knew it was not a good time to tackle him on it.

"Come in," You mumbled confusedly and widened the door. They stepped in and you watched as Azriel guided the warlord to sit at the table you had just been daydreaming at moments ago. "Would you like anything to eat or drink?" Careful, you warned yourself. Something wasn't right about this situation. Instinct had you scrambling to gain control of the unfolding events.

"No. Sit down," Azriel ordered. This was not the male you were accustomed to. While one could never describe Azriel as flamboyant, he was also not usually this cold toward around you. Quiet yet caring, not cold and calculating.

"Yes, sir," was your reply and you settled in the seat opposite the two males. Your heart was beginning to thump in anticipation. Your tendencies had you wishing you at least had your dagger nearby. You trust him, you always have, the voice in your mind whispered. Reaching out to open the report between the three of you, you did not miss how the General tensed ever so slightly. It was a movement so slight that, to the untrained eye, it would have been unnoticeable. Meeting Azriel's eyes once again, you allowed the confusion to show on your face. "I assume you want the report of my previous mission in Autumn." You weren't sure if it was a question or a statement.

A few beats of silence passed and both males stared you down. You waited, staring back. If there was something amiss, you would not allow them to think it was something to do with you. "Go ahead." Azriel's tone was so... cruel. Like you were a mouse caught in the claws of a street cat. Like he was toying with you.

You would not bite. If there was an issue, they were more than capable of speaking plain to you. "As you know, this mission spanned a period of four months," You began. As you continued to debrief your mission, you felt as though you were speaking to brick walls. While both sets of eyes remained solely focused on you, they seemed to be looking through you. As though what you were saying was insignificant. You tried to make sense of it. There was no major outcomes of your mission, so perhaps that was the reason for their demeanour. "I observed a member of High Lord Beron's spy circle enter and leave fairly often. I could not get close enough to determine why or what was the reason for these visits. I dug as much as I could but could only ascertain that it had something to do with Eris. If he has been absent then it is likely because he is being watched closely." Closing the report, you slid it across the table to Azriel, "Anything I may have missed will be in my report like always." You never missed out on any detail, though you always said it to Azriel.

You sat back in your chair. There was usually some discussion after you finished your report. Azriel would question you on various parts of your account in order to try make a connection that you could have missed. When you were new to the world of being a spy, it annoyed you to no end. You did not enjoy being second guessed. Azriel had explained to you that all he wished to do was brainstorm with you, try to figure out the puzzles together. A problem shared is a problem halved. So the lack of conversation after only added to uncertainty and began to grate on your nerves.

"Anything else?" The General pressed. Your head shot to him. He looked ready to pounce on you at any moment.

Heckles raised, your brows furrowed, "No?"

"Are you sure?" Azriel bit. If Cassian looked ready to pounce, Azriel looked ready to kill.

"Yes, I'm sure," You snapped back, heart beginning to race. "Can you cut it out? Get to the point!"

You cursed yourself for slightly jumping when Azriel's fist slammed against your wooden table. Your mind ran in circles around itself trying to decipher what it was that you had done to have your boss so visibly angry. So visibly struggling to control his fury. "I am being more than patient with you. You have one final chance to reveal what you have done... I cannot and will not refrain from extrapolating it through any means necessary." His voice was a vicious growl that seemed to make your very bones tremble.

Your stomach felt weak, your cool and calm spy demeanour a thing of the past. Sweat accumulated along your brow as your eyes frantically darted between your boss and the General. "I-I..." You hesitated. You were drawing a blank and a curse quickly followed from your breath at just how guilty you looked, especially to one so keen as the Spymaster of Night himself. "I truly do not know what this is about... please I'm sure whatever has happened is some sort of miscommunication." You nearly fell over your chair as you stumbled out of it, trying to create some distance between yourself and the hulking Illyrians who were beginning to stalk towards you in a strange unison. They didn't appear to be doing it consciously though that did nothing to ease the terror snaking up your spine as they drew nearer. "Azriel please... you must believe me. I don't know what this is about. You know me!" It was true. Azriel was the only living soul on The Mother's land that knew you through and through.

A cruel snort from Azriel seemed to dash any hope from you. "I thought I did, though that was my mistake," Azriel replied. In an instant both males grabbed your arms and forced you to your knees. You hated to admit it, but the feeling of betrayal had tears beginning to line your eyes. You hated it even more when you began to plead with him, beg him to believe you. However neither Cassian nor Azriel replied. They only secured chains around your wrists and ankles and a charmed sack over your head. The sack blocked all sound and sight, not even a crack of light. Your panic created a lump in your through as the only noise to greet you was your own laboured breaths. The tears finally dribbled over when your felt the hands of Azriel and Cassian roughly push and shove you to and fro. You knew where you were headed. You had delivered a target or two to the dungeons of the Hewn City -- well you had delivered them to Azriel's second in command, or Azriel himself, to bring there.

You knew that those targets never left those dungeons either.

***

You remembered now. Some time had passed from then... a few days... a few weeks... you weren't sure. It was so desperately, desperately dark down here. You had been rendered unconscious a number of times. Whatever information Azriel believed you possessed translated to him using all manner of force to squeeze it out of you. He allowed other members of his spy circle... your spy circle to torture this mystery information out. He knew the betrayal would cut deeper than any blade or whip ever could. Despite the kindness within Azriel, he was a talented torturer. He seemed to know that mere flesh wounds wouldn't break someone like you. You had known cuts and bruises long before you ever came into Azriel's employ. And he knew that. Seeing the quiet rage in your former colleagues eyes, seeing your own betrayal reflected in their gazes, tore something in you. You had worked with each one of them on one mission or another. Now they were taking their pain out on you... traitor had been imbedded onto your torso by Alyia in her native tongue from the continent. Elijah had pulled out your molars, his knife tearing strips from your gums in the process. Oscar ripped three fingernails from you. You screamed and wailed that you knew nothing. That this was a mistake. Though your pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

So you hung there, despair your only company until the next barrage began. No one would believe you, that much was painfully obvious now. They would not allow you a quick nor painless death... so you stopped eating and drinking. You would at least keep your dignity in controlling your own death, even if your mouth had the consistency of sandpaper and hunger pains were a torture in their own right.

Footsteps began to echo toward your cell. They were light, but making themselves known. Azriel. He had not shown himself since you had been dragged here. A strategic move on his part. He was saving his presence until it was absolutely necessary, you were sure. He allowed your colleagues to begin chipping away at your presumed resolve. Allowed them to begin cracking you, so he could deliver the final blow and reveal all your secrets. You raised your head, waiting for him with half lidded eyes. Seeing him standing there, wings flared and a tray in hand, brought a rush of emotions. Anger, rage, despair, betrayal, injustice. You wanted to scream at him, to curse his name and his existence. The urge bubbled in your chest. However, when you laid your eyes upon him, it all died on your tongue. What use had screaming gotten you thus far. Thus, you dipped your chin once again.

You closed your eyes and listened as he passed through the door. Listened as he placed the tray on the table that had held pliers, daggers and whips in the prior hours. You felt his shadows snake and slither over your aching body. They seemed to bite and nip at each of your injuries. You twitched at their barrage, it felt like tiny needles poking at your mangled body. Even so, you would not raise your head. As silent as a mouse, Azriel moved to stand before you. His shiny boots were all you could see. A groan erupted from you when he grabbed your cheeks and forced your head upright. His amber eyes burned with hatred, though they wandered all over your faced. Lingered on the swelling on your left eye that would soon become too large for you to open and close.

"Hunger strike, really?" He questioned unimpressed, squeezing your cheeks so hard that the cuts inside your mouth reopened and dribbled out of your lips onto his gloved hand.

You stared through him, forcing your mind out of that dingy cell and back to your peaceful home. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the flowing Sidra over the noise of your own agony. If you thought hard enough, you could smell the breads you used to make more than the smell of your blood. If you thought hard enough, you could transport yourself to a reality where this wasn't happening.

A harsh slap reeled you back into the dungeon. Stars danced across your vision. The lack of food and water made that slap feel like a punch. When they cleared, you gazed upon the cruel beauty of Azriel Shadowsinger. It seemed like eons ago that this male set butterflies afloat in your stomach. Now all he did was set led weighing on your stomach. "Keep your eyes on me." You hated the way you obeyed. You were terrified of the horrors Azriel could release unto you. It was no secret to anyone in Prythian the creativity he possessed in the arts of torture. He raised a cup of water to your lips. No. You jerked back, clenching your teeth together. He struggled with you, holding the back of your head. Shaking your head, you dodged his attempt to hydrate you by any means necessary. His fingers curled around your blood-matted hair, and he yanked with all his might. You shrieked at the pain and Azriel used the excuse to pour the water in. You choked and sputtered until you expelled as much of it as you could.

"Fuck you!" You coughed out, your throat raw and breaths heaving.

An impatient snarl passed through Azriel's lips. He walked back to the small table to where the tray rested. You watched this time, and saw that the tray consisted of three jugs and some rags, along with the cup in his hand. One of the jugs slammed back onto the table, its contents spilling over the edged. "Let's try this again, agent," Azriel spoke steady. "You will drink and then you will eat. You will not get out of this the easy way. Is that clear?" His tone promised violence.

"No," You voice was low but defiant.

A humoured chuckle escaped the Spymaster as he returned to your front. "I was not requesting," Was all he said before he grabbed your head again and attempted to force the water down your neck. You thrashed and shook, though a couple drops managed their way past your protests. You detested that the cool water felt nice on your raw throat. The struggle continued until the remanets of the glass dribbled down the rags that covered your battered body.

Wordlessly, Azriel returned the table again. This time, he abandoned his cup and picked up the jug. And a rag. "I gave you two chances to drink properly," He began and immersed the rag into the jug. Your heart began to race like it had many times over the last while. Taking the rag out of the water, Azriel held it over your face. His hand slid to the back of your head and held your hair so tight that you couldn't move an inch. Before you had a chance to take a breath, Azriel began to pour the water slowly over the rag. You tried to gasp, though the water made you splutter and choke. Your mind went wild with panic, your chest heaving in attempt to draw in enough air. Trying to scream only resulted in weak groans and more choking. "This will go on for as long as you wish to protest," Azriel began. "I will have the water topped up regularly. You will not know more than a moments peace until you either confess what you have done or until you have decided to eat and drink." Dread swirled in your guts. You had enacted this very torture on a male before, it really could go on for hours. For as long as was necessary.

"I-I-" You tried to choke out. The water halted for a moment. "I don't know what I must confess! Azriel please-!"

"Don't. You. Dare!" Azriel roared. You body trembled and your head pounded from his grip on your hair. "Cut the shit!"

For the first time since you had been brought here, a loud sob ripped through your throat. You had screamed and wailed from the torture before, but you hadn't outright cried like this. Your pride had prevented it. Now, you couldn't control the sobs that shook your body. It had seemed to pause Azriel for the moment, for he did not move or speak. He just let you cry. Your eyes burned from the tears and your tears burned the gashes on your face. Your heart weighed heavy in your body, hopelessness withered your soul. Your jaw clenched as you heaved. "This is some sick joke," You whispered to yourself. "Please just tell me if it's a joke, I'll forgive everyone I promise."

"This is no joke," Azriel spoke softly. Softly like one would speak to a lover. You wished that were the case. But instead, the water began to trickle over your face again.

***

It had been a few days since Azriel had returned to Velaris. Your silence troubled him greatly. He must've waterboarded you for at least five hours, only stopping when you had passed out from hyperventilation. Troubled, yet impressed. He had never known another target to last that long. They either cracked, confessed or passed out much earlier. Azriel chalked it up to your hard upbringing. You had only revealed bits and pieces, more being divulged the longer he knew you... if those stories were even the truth anymore. Though you were beginning to crack, that much was certain. It had been about three weeks since Azriel and Cassian had dragged you into those dungeons. His spies reported the actions they took in order to extract the information from you. Some of it would make even the toughest males cringe. As much as Azriel loathed you for what you had done, the descriptions of your torture and the results of which he had seen decorated on your body was a tough pill for him to swallow. Especially when it stretched on so long with no result. Was all the pain and suffering worth it when it yielded nothing? Whatever information you possessed must be worth such a fate.

A knock on Azriel's door pulled him from his depressing stream of thoughts. He called for his visitor to enter and lifted his head from the paper on his desk, it was not like he was really reading it anyway. Rhys walked through the door and sat on a chair in front of his Spymaster. It seemed funny for his High Lord to be before him rather than the other way around. "What is it, brother?" Azriel questioned. Rhysand had been disappointed when it was revealed that one of Azriel's more trusted spies had turned traitor, or been a traitor all along. Especially when it had gone unnoticed by the Shadowsinger himself, only to be unveiled by said Shadowsinger's second in command. Rhysand had held his tongue then, seeing how blindsided and angered Azriel had been. He wasn't completely sure, but Rhysand suspected it could have had something to do with some feelings developing between his brother and the traitor.

"How has it been coming along? Do we have any idea how much intel has been passed onto Beron?" Rhysand asked carefully. It was a silly question really, Azriel would've come to him straight away with that kind of information. He just wanted to check on his brother.

With a grimace, Azriel answered. "She has been a tough one to crack. Not even a sliver of information that I can make anything of."

"Perhaps it is time for a change of strategy?" Rhysand suggested.

Azriel's eyes met his brother's. He knew what he was suggesting, the power swirling throughout his High Lord's gaze could extract the truth in a matter of moments. But the idea sickened Azriel. Not only because he knew it turned Rhys' stomach to do so, but also because he wanted to avoid that end for you if at all possible. It confused the Illyrian really. On one hand, he wanted to rip you to shreds for betraying his trust. On the other, he wished he could go back in time and relive those peaceful moments of your friendship and his blooming feelings for you. Azriel clenched and unclenched his jaw. "That is our last resort, brother. I wish to try one more thing, if that does not work, then..."

Rhysand dipped his chin. "Of course, Az." He would probe Azriel later for his true thoughts. The shadows twirled around Azriel in a frenzy. They were typically a good indicator of when was a good time to talk to him.

***

You had been lowered to the ground, your ankles remained chained. Lying on the cold damp floor, tears dripped steadily down your cheeks. You did not sob and you tried to stop the flow, but it did not halt. Maybe you were going mad because the tears did not reflect the emptiness you felt eating a hole into your soul. It was horrifying yet comforting. You did not feel like the host of your own body, you felt like an outsider. Your assailants stabbed and whipped, you screamed and groaned. Yet you felt nothing on the inside. You did not beg or plead. You no longer protested when they forced food and water down your neck. You did nothing. There was nothing left in you. The lack of reaction had gained you no mercy. Large, deep gashes scored your arms. So lethal that the healer had advised that you be lowered, or else the wounds would stretch and you would bleed to death. Of course you could not die yet. The news must have made it to the boss because he stood before your cell for the second time since you arrived. You expected your heart to race, for fear to rattle your bones once again. Yet you remained still. Unbothered. They truly had broken you beyond repair. In walked Azriel. Your eyes followed each of his movements. His slithering companions remained by his side, as though they were on a leash.

"What have they done to you?" Azriel's voice was so soft as he hunched down before you. He reached out with an un-gloved hand to take your own. Red-stained bandaging covered two gaps where fingers had been. The gorsian shackles had been doing their job, along with the drops of faebane in your water. The healing was slow... but still healing. Was this what it was like for the humans?

You remained mute, still staring at your former friend. He met your eyes once again, not holding back his troubled face. If Azriel was being honest with himself, your silence was jarring. That look on your face was scary. You were slipping away before him, before the job was done. He replaced his grip on your mangled hand to wipe the tears from your cheek. You did not so much as flinch. Instead, your eyes closed. This was the only soft touch you had received in what felt like forever, and with your end drawing near you would enjoy it. Even if the one that would order your execution was providing you with that warmth. For a moment, you slipped into a reality stars away. A reality in which you were lying beside this male, his hand not wiping tears but caressing gently. A world where you could open your eyes and see Azriel's loving expression. Not this world.

"Let's try this a different way, sweetness." The nickname startled you. It had been a joke between you and him before all this. He had teased you for the amount of sugar in your tea. "Can you sit up for me?" Azriel spoke to you like he had before this nightmare began. You shook your head. It was only now that Azriel realised that your hands were clutching your stomach... no guarding it. He lifted the rag-like shirt that covered your top-half. Another inscription had been cut there. No, burned there. The spymaster's own hands twitched at the sight. For how depraved he was, he had never been depraved enough to enact this specific torture on anyone.

"It means snake," Your voice cracked. Raw from both disuse and screaming, Azriel was sure. "Alyia promised for every day I do not reveal my treachery, she will brand me with names through different means. You would be proud of her," You chuckled. The chuckle soon turned into a mixture of groans and coughs that spattered blood into your hand.

"I am not proud of this." It was the truth. As much as it was necessary at times, Azriel did not delight in torture. Much less yours. "Why are you keeping the information then? Surely you do not wish for this to continue."

Another laugh filled the room, the tears still streaming from you. The laugh turned to a cackle this time, loud and crazed. It lasted a few moments and all Azriel could do was watch. He had seen this many times before. The emotions of a tortured soul were not to be understood. He waited until your giggles died down. When they died, your arm wiped the tears. "You must think me stronger than I really am! I would've confessed long ago if I was a traitor. I've even thought of fabricating a confession so it would mean I would be put out of my misery but you would see through that and you'd keep me alive even longer." Your words struck a cord in Azriel. It was a strange thing for an old friend to wish for death at his hands, particularly when he knew your guilt to be fact. A fantastic actress you were, your performance was weighing greatly on Azriel's moral compass.

"How can you possibly think I will believe that?" He demanded incredulously. "I have seen the facts with my own eyes, through the work of someone I trust more than you."

That meant that Elijah, his second in command had either framed you or been fed false information so strong that it could not be refuted. "I don't think you will believe me," You replied dryly. "You have shown me that. So how about you tell me what you know."

Azriel rolled his eyes. He had trained you very well, your performance had tugged on even his heartstrings. "I know you are feeding intel about this court and my actions to Autumn," He growled and stood. He began to pace back and forth in front of you. "I was wondering why you kept requesting missions to the Autumn Court. I stupidly thought it was because you wished to help me with the unfolding business and please me. Because I believed you cared! That was my mistake. So now all that remains is to find out exactly what you have fed to Beron. So please, sweetness, tell me what you know and I will gladly put you out of your misery!"

Another humourless cackle erupted from you. "Let's be real, Azriel. You won't believe the truth even if it slapped you in the face. You have been tricked, but not by me. The truth will reveal itself one day, old friend. Whether it is in a few days or a few years, it will come out. Just know that when it does and I am dead, I will never forgive you. You have done wrong by me more than anyone else in my life."

With that, Azriel left your dungeon. This was his last attempt at extracting the truth. He had hoped that showing you kindness would give you enough hope that the truth would come out. He was wrong. So as he winnowed home, he mentally called for a meeting with Rhysand. Azriel's heart thumped painfully in his chest at your words. They resonated with him for some reason, the hard look in your eyes would be something he would never forget.

***

Elijah kept your hands bolted to each arm of the chair with two knives. They pierced all the way though your palm and at least a few inches into the wooden armrests. The pain that came with it was among some of the less severe you had become accustomed to. It was downright trivial compared the burning agony of the large screw being slowly twisted into your foot. Out of anyone, his punishments were the most painful. Elijah held a crazed look in his eye, a corner of his lips quirking while he inflicted his torment. It made sense to you now. For him, it was a sick delight. He enjoyed making you scream, making you beg for death. He wasn't trying to extract any information from you, he was merely toying with his spoils.

"You," A series of deep, laboured breaths ensued. "You're sick. I know what you've done."

The Cheshire-grin that slinked across Elijah's face was terrifying. "Oh how clever of you. Unfortunately for you, it is your word against my own. You are a pawn in a game that was created long before you let the Shadowsinger into your home for the first time. However, a happy coincidence it has been, girl. I could've never imagined the enjoyment I could get out of this. A dull affair turned an excess of excitement." You bowed your head. He was right. No one would believe you now, not that Azriel had revealed who had damned you. How convenient it would be for you to reveal Elijah's treachery so soon after your former boss had told you he was involved in your capture. Not to mention that whatever evidence the second in command had procured was enough to convince your boss and colleagues of your unwavering guilt. A terrible hybrid of a groan and scream ripped through your already raw throat as Elijah twisted the screw another full turn into your foot. It wouldn't be long now. Your end was in sight, Azriel's patience would not stretch much further. The only things you had left to fear was the method that would kill you and The Mother's grace to allow you back into her arms.

As if on cue, a group of footsteps echoed down the halls. You had come to recognise Azriel's. The other two you weren't sure of, but you assumed The General was in tow. The final pair were a mystery. Elijah spun on his heel, ready to greet his boss. In an instant, he was down on one knee, bowing so low he looked as though he could kiss the bloodstained ground. "High Lord, it is an honour." Your blood ran ice cold. Your head shot up and beheld the three Illyrians, each one just as petrifying as the other. Though, the High Lord's power blanketed the cell, seeping into every crack and corner. High Lord Rhysand stared right into your fear-filled eyes. There was whispers and rumours as to exactly what this male had done. He could turn your brain to mush and leave you living. He could rip your mind to shreds, give you the most agonising death with little effort. The horrors of his victims had never been far from your ears. The male's stare promised the same fate for you. It had you scrambling to ensure your own mental shields were intact, as though you could resist the might of the most powerful High Lord in history.

Rhysand called you by your full name, full of authority and reflecting the power that lurked behind his eyes. Raising your head, you looked anxiously at Azriel. You did everything to portray your fear and terror into that look. "Eyes on me." Rhysand bit. With a heart beating loud enough that everyone in the room could hear it, you met the eyes of your High Lord.

"My lord, please. This is a mistake," You begged one last time. One last chance at freedom. He would see the truth in your mind, but there would be nothing left of you to save.

"You have one final chance to reveal what you fed to Beron. Otherwise I will rip your mind apart until I find it myself," He promised viciously. You felt a razor-sharp claw make a long, uncomfortable pass over your mental shield.

You flickered your eyes to Elijah, who looked pale. This was it, your chance at justice. Even if you wouldn't be alive to witness it. Then you slid your gaze back to your old friend... your old love interest. Azriel scanned your body, holding on the knives in your hands and the screw in your foot. Cassian watched the exchange, though he had a harder time at hiding his expressions at the various horrors littering your body. "Remember what I told you," You spoke as you held the stare of Azriel. "I know nothing, High Lord. I have not fed any information to Beron or anyone from the Autumn Court."

Rhysand breathed a deep sigh when your eyes met once again. "Very well. May the Mother punish you justly for your sins." The feeling the followed was unlike anything you suffered before. You could not move, you could not scream. He was right there, in your mind. You could feel his essence cleaving your consciousness apart. Through each memory he watched, he destroyed it as he went. It felt like time had been slowed to a fraction of what it had been. The last few weeks of your torture felt inconsequential to these moments passing at a snail's pace. The blood that began to ooze from your nose, eyes and ears trickled slowly and took your mind with it. Everything you had ever been, would be and could've been was dribbling into a puddle in your lap.

You tried to push him out, tried to reinstate the shields and get him out. Give it up, his voice was a ripple of night. It was the voice of the High Lord, but also something more. Something demonic and beastly. It demanded you, and your mind conceded. The end was drawing near, you found yourself trying to remember your life and were met with nothingness. There was nothing left of you, only this pain and suffering. Why was this happening? You could not recall. Just let it end, you willed it. You repeated it like a mantra, begging whatever demon was inhabiting you to just kill you. The blood tickled your face as it now poured from you, but you could do nothing about it. Not as you heard ringing in your ears and your world fade to black.

Azriel watched in horror, having never witnessed this side of his brother's power in person. Dread weighed on him as your mouth hung open in silent horror, blood and drool pooling into your lap. Your fingers had curled and eyes clenched shut. Despite what you had done, Azriel would never wish this fate on his worst enemy. The image before him was something that even the most graphic horror novel could not depict. Azriel watched as the life drained from your body. Your hands relaxed first, then your expression relaxed and lastly, your upper body drooped and slumped over itself.. It was strange, you looked like you were sleeping peacefully despite the carnage you experienced. Rhysand's eyes focused once again and he quickly whipped around. Azriel jumped forward putting his hands on his brother's shoulders. "What's going on?" Cassian shouted.

"Where is he?!" Rhys bellowed, ripping from Azriel's grip.

"Who? Where's who?! Talk to me!" Azriel snapped.

"Elijah!" Both remaining brothers whirled around to where the spy was previously. An empty corner was all the remained.

Azriel's heckles raised, nothing was making sense. Cassian seemed to catch on partially. "Why do you want him?"

Rhysand looked solemnly at Azriel and Cassian. "It wasn't her, Elijah set her up."

Azriel froze, his heart pumped loudly in his ears. This couldn't be happening. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, his hands shook by his side. Carefully, he looked at where you were slumped in the chair. "No..." He barely whispered. Azriel's words seemed jumpstart Rhys and Cassian into action. Cassian ripped from the room, his feet stomping down the hall in pursuit of the real traitor.

Azriel approached you slowly, hoping there was some of you left to save. To save so he could repent. Tentatively and more gently than anyone had been with you in weeks, the Shadowsinger raised his fingers to your neck and waited. Waited for something, anything. "She's gone brother, I made sure of it," Rhysand stated, shame and regret thick in his tone. The Spymaster collapsed to his knees beside you, his mind replaying all the times you had begged for him to believe you. Replaying all the times his gut had told him there was something amiss. Sobs began to rack through his body, his heart had cleaved in two. In that moment, Azriel felt no better than his step brothers. An innocent female, an innocent and amazing female dead by torment he had ordered.

***

Azriel took charge of arranging your funeral himself. Guilt and shame had plagued him in the days since your death... no your murder. You laid on the pyre outside the home you had made for yourself. The Sidra rushed aggressively, as though it had been angered by your demise. The healers had cleaned your body as best they could, covered you with the finest silk Azriel could buy. But, he could still see the characters engraved on your skin. The holes in your hands where Elijah's knives had been were visible as they laid criss-crossed over your heart. Your cheekbones jut out in a sickly manner from your face. You looked clean, but nothing like the female Azriel had fallen in love with. He knew that now, that he had fallen in love with you. And he had destroyed you. A shell of the female you used to be laid dead on the pyre, all because of him. Azriel wished he could awake from this hell. Awake and see your face full and happy. Instead, he saw the eternal rest before him. Despite the peace on your face, all he could see was the image of your freshly dead body; mouth hung open with blood spilling from it, tears still trickling down your cheeks. With a flaming torch, Azriel set the pyre ablaze. He had attended this on his own, despite the protests of his family. He would attend this alone. Though Azriel was sure that the thought of him being the only attendee at the ceremony of your untimely demise would disgust you.

As your body burned, along with your most prized possessions, Azriel vowed to never forget what he had done to you, his friend and lost love. He would walk every day with the thought of you whispering in the back of his mind. For everyday he would remember what he did to you with the most crushing guilt, it would never account nor excuse the turmoil he put you through. Would never amount of the betrayal and injustice he unleashed unto you. Azriel Shadowsinger would never allow himself a moments peace again. Because you had never gotten yours. You had never even gotten so much of a chance at peace. Azriel knew it was a fitting punishment, he even smiled dryly at your burning body as he recalled your final words to him.

I will never forgive you. You have done wrong by me more than anyone else in my life.

I would appreciate any feedback that you have! Let me know what you think! :)

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n ❞ iii

part two - part four

➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.

➪ co-parenting, dead-beat fathers and curious friends.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles (platonic) x lando

➪ my babies are back and they're lying their asses off <3

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, manon_roux and 478,963 others

y/nusername obsessed actually.

tagged: manon_roux, alicedidier, charles_leclerc

view all 1,425 comments

hamilt44n ma'am how many more babies are you going to steal from your friends? 😭

charlesgirlies so true bestie I'm obsessed with Leo leclerc as well!

↳ charlesgirlies and the other dog, don't know who he is but I love him as well ❤️

bobnorriz oooh who got you those chocolates huh? 👀

pierregasss time to have your own babies again!

↳ lanlan yes!!!! Zoey would make such a good sister!

norry4 first if all its zoë and not Zoey and second of all, stop telling y/n she should get another kid..it's weird

bananacharles obsessed with Charles as well?

estiebestieocon baby number two when? 👀

manon_roux so that's where my son went..

↳ y/nusername *our son

milliexoxo little Noah belongs to us all 💙

alicedidier all our kids belong to you all apparently

y/nusername yeah 🥰

leolec16 leoooooooo 🥰

schumimick charles gave zoe a baby brother now its your turn 😍

↳ yukisan girl stfu maybe she doesn't want to???

norrizz some of y'all so rude! If you were even the slightest bit interested in y/n like you claim, you'd know having kids is difficult and having zoë wasn't something that just happened..

↳ norry4 this!!

charliecharles I didn't even know this...how do you know?

norrizz go watch zoë's 2nd bday vlog

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y/nusername posted to their story

manon_roux replied to your story

manon_roux

you are giving this man way too many chances

y/nusername

he showed up sober

manon_roux

This man has problems

y/nusername

Zoë still likes her grandpa

manon_roux

this man is not grandpa worthy

he's never been a normal dad how does he know how to love a child in the first place?

are you alone with him or is charles with you?

y/nusername

yeah and joris so I'm good

we're almost leaving

manon_roux

where are you staying?

charles? Hotel?

y/nusername

what's got that to do with all this?

manon_roux

Just curious 😉

y/nusername

I've got a roof over my head, I'm fine.

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y/nusername posted to their story

milliexoxo replied to your story

milliexoxo

you might be able to fool some people but I know exactly where these pictures are taken, I've been in that man's house a lot 😂

you're at lando's place?

y/nusername

If you know, why'd you ask?

milliexoxo

So? 👀

y/nusername

he offered me a place to stay, he's not even in town so calm down

milliexoxo

Wow I'm just curious 😂

y/nusername

last time you were curious about my relationship with lando you threw a tantrum because i broke up with him..

milliexoxo

Can you stop using that against me? 😭

I was immature and dumb ass fuck and I've apologised for it

So you're not together together?

y/nusername

No millie, we're not

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y/nusername

📍 Miami, Florida

liked by charles_leclerc, milliexoxo and 465,577 others

y/nusername dora, boots & swiper.

tagged: milliexoxo

norrizz you're dora, zoë's boots so millie is swiper?

↳ y/nusername you know it! 🤗

milliexoxo always made the villain

norrizz millie you are a criminal, you're always the villain 😂

piastry mom's weekend with the kids <3

yukisan bunch of pretty ladies 🥰

manon_roux 🎶 backpack, backpack 🎶

↳ y/nusername 🎶 backpack, backpack 🎶

manon_roux 🕺 💃 🕺💃🕺💃🕺

julieeeexo when you're a mom, you turn up to kids shows 😂

y/nusername ask millie where she got the dress from

↳ hamilt44n where's millie's dress from?

y/nusername my closet

hamilt44n 😭 😭

milliexoxo best store in town tbh

landooooo just 3 bestie exploring the world together :)

sharl16 so we just gonna ignore the fact y/n, lando and zoë flew to miami together like a happy little family or what???

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @ireadthensuetheauthors @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld @destinyg237

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

Desire taglist; @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse

[rafestify]

if you’re taking requests maybe tough rafe with anxious/shy reader and he’s only soft with her <3

By My Side — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Rafe's supportive presence helps Shy!Reader feels safe and less anxious in busy situations

Rafe Cameron x Shy!Reader

Warning : none, just pure fluff (english is not my first language)

A/N : this one's pretty short, just around 930 words :D

Rafe was acutely aware of my aversion to crowds, always picking up on the subtle shifts in my demeanor that betrayed my discomfort. In those bustling environments, the vibrant, bubbly girl he adored would vanish, replaced by a quieter version of myself—a shy girl who trailed behind him like a lost puppy searching for comfort and familiarity. As laughter and chatter swirled around us, I felt the weight of the crowd pressing in, each unfamiliar face amplifying my unease. Rafe, ever observant, would often glance back at me with a reassuring smile, a silent promise that I wasn’t alone in this sea of strangers. His presence became my anchor, grounding me as I navigated the chaos, reminding me that even in the most crowded places, I could still find solace in him.

At that moment, I felt like I was trailing after Rafe at my family’s business event, anxiety washing over me like a cold wave. “Do I really have to do this?” I asked, glancing up at him, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping he might offer an escape.

“Well, your dad’s counting on you,” he replied, his tone gentle yet encouraging, paired with a smile that lifted the heaviness in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the speech my father had insisted I deliver, my fingers fidgeting nervously in my lap. Rafe caught my gaze and, sensing my apprehension, said with a soft chuckle,

“Stop that,” He warned, as he held my hand to stop the fidgeting, and the warmth of his grip on my hand was instantly calming. “You've got this, baby,” he added, his confidence in me a steady anchor as I prepared to face the crowd.

Finally, the moment had arrived for me to deliver my speech. As I stepped forward to face the guests, my heart raced and my palms grew clammy. I took a deep breath, introducing myself with a shaky voice, clearing my throat in an attempt to steady my nerves. The sea of expectant faces blurred together, their expressions a mix of curiosity and encouragement, but the absence of notes made my anxiety spike. I felt exposed, as if standing on a tightrope without a safety net. As I began to speak, my mind raced through the words I had practiced, but doubt crept in, threatening to derail me. I focused on a few friendly faces in the crowd, reminding myself that I wasn’t alone. With Rafe’s reassuring presence lingering in my mind, I gathered my thoughts and pressed on, determined to make my voice heard despite the overwhelming tide of nerves threatening to pull me under.

Surprisingly, it all unfolded so quickly that before I knew it, I was wrapping up my speech, my heart racing with a mix of relief and exhilaration. As I stepped down from the makeshift stage, I spotted Rafe standing there, his warm smile instantly calming my frayed nerves. I let out a deep sigh of relief.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said, pride radiating from his expression as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“You were amazing,” he added, his words wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

“Honestly, I’m just glad it’s over,” I admitted, still catching my breath.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N”

A blush crept up my cheeks at his praise, and we began to weave our way back through the crowd, the noise and chatter fading into the background. “Thank you, Rafe,” I said, leaning into him a little more as we navigated the throngs of people. He glanced down at me, his expression softening. “No need to thank me, baby. I’ll always have your back.”

As we reached a quieter corner of the venue, I could finally breathe easier, the pressure of the spotlight lifting. “How about we celebrate with a drink? A champagne sounds perfect,” he suggested, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Absolutely,” I replied, feeling a sense of lightness wash over me.

As we approached the bar, I felt the tension of the evening dissipate. The clinking of glasses and soft music created a cozy atmosphere. Rafe leaned in closer, his voice playful. “You know, I might just have to get you a champagne every time you face a crowd. It seems to bring out the best in you.”

“Maybe it will become my secret weapon,” I joked, smiling at the thought.

When we reached the bar, Rafe ordered our drinks, and I took a moment to soak in the ambiance—the laughter, the chatter, the clinking of glasses—a far cry from the anxiety that had gripped me just moments before. As the bartender prepared our drinks, I turned to Rafe, my heart swelling with gratitude. “I really couldn’t have done it without you. You always know how to make me feel safe.”

He grinned, handing me my drink as the bartender set down two perfectly chilled champagnes. “To you,” he said, raising his glass. “And to facing fears.”

I clinked my glass against his, the sound a tiny but significant celebration of the night. With the first sip of the smooth champagne, I felt a wave of relaxation wash over me. “I think I could get used to this.” I remarked, savoring the moment.

The night was still young, and I realized that if I could face the crowd and deliver that speech, I could take on anything. With Rafe by my side, I felt ready to embrace whatever came next.

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🐇🪷

[vampsywrites]

II — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Sun&Moon couple, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped, Mentions of Jealousy&Possessiveness, Romantic tension, Neteyam wanting to impress his girl, Lo'ak having the time of his life teasing the shit out of Neteyam, Reader has that Tsahik rizz

Word Count: 2.8k | AO3 LINK

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

With the village of the Iuva'ri clan now their new home, the Sullys followed you past open fields, their eyes wandering in amazement at the sights.

Everywhere they looked, the hustle and bustle of daily life surrounded them. Hunters could be seen hauling large beasts into the village, farmers had their hands deep in the earth as they worked to ensure a bountiful harvest, and weavers, with their deft hands, skillfully crafted intricate patterns into fabric.

Though the environment was not too different from what they were used to in the forest, it was still a significant change from the wild, cluttered jungle they had known all their life.

While his family was busy taking all of the clan in, Neteyam was fully focused on you. He watched in fascination as the village parted when you walked past, people practically throwing themselves aside to clear your path. From elders to children, they bowed in reverence and greeted you with warmth and admiration, recognizing you as their Tsahìk.

Through the walk, Neteyam also couldn't help but notice how your presence captured the attention of the young men and women around. Warriors, weavers, hunters – they all seemed to be drawn to you, stopping in their tracks with blushing cheeks as they exchanged hushed words. Their lingering gazes and subtle glances, their eyes which seemed to follow you like a predator stalking its prey, didn't escape Neteyam's watchful eyes.

As he observed this intense attention you garnered, a pang of possessiveness surged through his gut, and his tail lashed out in irritation.

Neteyam felt torn, battling with the internal struggle of feeling irrationally possessive. Deep down, he knew he had no right to be jealous. After all, he had no claim over you, and he had yet to truly earn your trust and affection.

The announcement of your courtship clearly took the clan by surprise. While some genuinely celebrated your happiness, others found it difficult to hide their envy. Evident by the glares sent his way from those who might have hoped to be in his place.

This scrutiny only served to intensify his emotions.

"This will be your home now," you called out, your voice calm and welcoming, pulling him away from his thoughts. Neteyam watched as you guided them to a beautifully crafted hut elevated on bamboo wooden stilts. It stood gracefully above the ground, a testament to the skilled craftsmanship of your people. The roof was steeply pitched and thatched with nipa palm leaves, while the walls were intricately woven from bamboo slats.

Tuktirey gasped in amazement, her eyes wide with childish wonder as she marveled at the hut's elevated design. "It's so tall!" she exclaimed, clearly impressed by the unique structure.

You hummed, understanding their awe and sensing the underlying hesitation in some of them.

"You will grow to like it," you reassured with a small smile. "It may be different from what you're used to, but it will keep you safe and warm. Our people have lived in harmony with Eywa and these lands for generations."

Tuktirey beamed up at you. "I can't wait to explore and learn more about your ways," she cheers, enthusiasm evident.

“I am sure you will learn well, little one,” you hum, running a hand through her braided hair.

With ease, you then moved towards the stairs, climbing up with a sense of familiarity as you began to haul their belongings to their new home. The family followed behind you, still feeling a tad bit out of place.

After ensuring they were comfortable, you began to excuse yourself, knowing you needed to give them some privacy. As you walked past Neteyam, catching his gaze, you gently rest your hand upon his chest. After murmuring a quick goodbye, you withdrew your hand and swiftly left the hut. Neteyam’s mind ran haywire, the spot where your hand had been burned with a sudden fire, leaving a lingering sensation on his skin that he couldn't shake off.

Eywa. It had only been a day and already you had an effect on him.

With your departure, the family gathered together, finding a spot to discuss the events that had transpired earlier. Neytiri paced back and forth in the open hut, footsteps loud against the wooden flooring, her mind racing with a myriad of thoughts and emotions.

"Alright," Jake sighed, running a rugged hand down his face, breaking through the tension. "We have to unpack what just happened earlier."

Neytiri nodded, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the situation. Her eyes turned to Neteyam, concern evident in her voice as she asked, "Ma'itan, are you sure of this?"

"Oh, he sure is," Lo'ak answered for his brother, sending a grin his way. "I mean—Did you hear him back there?"

"I will accept this proposal. Only if she will have me," he mocked, mimicking Neteyam's accent in a deep, gravely tone. Kiri couldn't help but hide her face with her hand, trying to stifle her laughter.

"Skxawng," Neteyam snarled playfully and gave Lo'ak a light smack in response, which only made his younger siblings laugh even more.

"Enough, you two," Neytiri's voice rang out, cutting through the air. She shook her head in exasperation, her beaded locks swaying and rattling with her movements. Turning her attention back to her eldest, her tone dropped a timbre as she murmured, "Neteyam, this is a big decision. Are you truly sure about this? You wish to mate with that woman?"

Neteyam's gaze shifted from his brother to his mother, lips drawing into a contemplative frown as the weight of it all settled heavily on his shoulders. The significance of such a union wasn't lost on him. The mating bond was not merely a union of bodies; it was the fusion of two souls, a sacred connection dictated by Eywa. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express his feelings.

"I am sure," he replied, his voice steady, despite the turmoil inside him. Neytiri studied his face for a moment, catching the hesitation laced in his expression.

"You do not have to do something your heart is against," his mother whispered, reaching forward, both of her hands finding his tense shoulders, rubbing deep circles into his muscle. Neteyam felt the warmth and reassurance in his mother's touch, and for a moment, he leaned into it, finding comfort in her presence.

"That’s the thing. My heart isn’t against it. I just… I felt something when I saw her." He then hesitated, struggling to unknot his mind and put his feelings into words. "Like-Like a heartbeat."

Kiri's eyes sparkled with wonder, a look of recognition flashing behind her eyes. Her tail swished with delight as she leaned forward eagerly, the shawl slipping off her shoulder in the haste of her movement. "You must have felt Eywa's connection with her. Was it like a calling? Could you feel a mighty heartbeat?"

Neteyam froze, his gaze turning to his younger sister.

"Yes. Exactly that, Kiri," he replied, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief. "It was like… she was calling out to me in some way, as if our souls were somehow intertwined."

Kiri's excitement grew, and she couldn't contain her joy. “Eywa has blessed you with a gift, brother. Rarely do mates feel such a deep soul connection on the first time they meet."

"Soul connection? That’s love at first sight, huh?" Jake interjected, his eyes glinting as he glanced at Neytiri with a knowing smile. "Sound familiar?"

Neytiri's stern façade softened as she smiled back, unable to hide her amusement. "Yes, it does," she admitted with a fondness in her voice. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of understanding and warmth as she looked at her eldest son. "Neteyam, ma’itan, if you truly feel this connection, then it may be a sign from Eywa herself. The steps you take next will be entirely up to you."

"It's just like those stories we've heard, bro. Soulmates and destined love,” Lo’ak chimed in. “You and her, together, guided by Eywa's hand," he smirked, clasping his hands together and making kissy faces. Neteyam huffed, shaking his head.

"Yeah. It might be like that," he admitted with a touch of bashfulness.

"But let's not get carried away with the dramatics,” Neteyam sighs, snapping himself back to reality. “I still want to get to know her first. I want to take it slow.”

“Slow, huh? Is that what you call asking her to mate with you on the spot?" Lo’ak laughed.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri hissed, glaring at him disapprovingly.

"I did not ask her to mate with me on the spot!" Neteyam snaps through gritted teeth, his voice rising slightly in embarrassment.

Lo'ak's laughter boomed through the air, thoroughly relishing the sight of his older brother's flustered expression. It was a rare occasion for Neteyam to be caught off guard by his teasing, always having a smartass rebut at the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah? Well, it sure looked like it to me," he snickered, his tail swishing back and forth in interest. Neytiri intervened, smacking him upside on the head. Lo’ak winced in response, and nursed the spot where his mother had hit him.

"Ow, ow, I get it," he groaned, lying flat on the floor. "I'll stop."

"Alright. ‘Nough of that. Come on," Jake said, with a chuckle, huddling everyone close. Once they had formed a circle, he began to address them, his tone taking on a more serious note, "Listen, I really need you kids to be on your best behavior. And I mean it."

Jake shifts his gaze to his eldest son, “Neteyam becoming a candidate for future Olo'eyktan already stirred things up enough. And I don’t even need to tell you just how messy that’s going to be.”

Neteyam heaved out a tense sigh, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “Sorry, sir.”

“We’re gonna get through this,” Jake continued, dismissing Neteyam’s apology, his voice carrying a tone of reassurance. “Together.”

Neytiri moved closer to her husband, gently placing her head over Jake's shoulder. “What does your father always say?” Neytiri murmured, her voice soft and soothing.

“Sullys stick together…”

“Little more feeling this time!"

“Sullys stick together!”

As the night falls and the stars twinkle in the dark sky, they finally retire to their new sleeping arrangements. Neteyam lays on his makeshift bed, a woven mat made out of palm and leaves, his mind abuzz with thoughts. He gazes out of the hut's opening, where he can catch a glimpse of you in the moonlight, going about your duties as Tsahìk, checking up on a few of the sick and injured in their huts.

Your silhouette against the moonlit backdrop mesmerizes him, and he finds himself drawn to your presence like a moth to a flame. As you notice his gaze, you offer him a reassuring nod before continuing your duties. His heart swells with warmth at the acknowledgment.

With the comfort of your presence lingering in his mind, Neteyam turns onto his back, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. The gentle rustle of palm leaves outside and the distant sounds of the forest lull him into a state of relaxation. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into a deep and restful sleep.

The next morning, the village awakens early. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun begins to rise over the mountains. Knocking gently at the side of their hut, you had called for them before the sun could even fully emerge, offering to show them more of the village and its surrounding wonders.

You lead them through the mountains, showing Kiri, Lo'ak, Tuk, and Neteyam the ways of life in this breathtaking terrain. The trees stand tall and proud, similar to those in the forest they once called home, but here they bear a different kind of energy, surrounded by majestic mountains which hold ancient tales of the ancestors before them. The group walks amidst the trees, their senses heightened by the subtle sounds of wildlife and the fresh scent of earth.

As you lead them further, you come across vast rice fields, a breathtaking sight of lush green beauty stretching as far as the eye can see. The fields seem to come alive with the morning sunlight. The stalks of rice sway gently in the breeze, creating a mesmerizing dance, captivating the forest Na’vi.

Amidst the exploration, Neteyam's keen eyes spot a group of mountain climbers in the distance, scaling a rocky hill.

"What are they doing?" he questions, his curiosity piqued.

"They're practicing for the coming-of-age ceremony," you say, your gaze following the climbers. Neteyam's curiosity turns into intrigue, and he listens intently as you begin to explain.

"It's an ascent to the clouded peak," you share, pointing to a towering mountain in the distance, its summit shrouded in mist. "At dawn, the candidates gather at the base. It is the tallest mountain in the region and they must set out on a journey to reach the summit."

Lo’ak whistles, grimacing while he sizes up the daunting landscape before him. "We have to climb that?" he asks incredulously.

“Only if you want to. Your Omatikayan ikinimaya should be enough for you to be recognized in the clan,” you assure him with a pat on his back.

Neteyam stays silent for the next few minutes, his faraway gaze directed towards the rocky mountain. Suddenly, he startles everyone by speaking up, the words slipping from his mouth causing your eyes to rip wide open.

"I want to partake in it," he says, his voice steady and resolute. The sudden declaration shakes everyone, and his siblings turn their attention fully to him, waiting to hear his reasoning.

You too gaze up at him in disbelief. "Are you certain?" you ask, wanting to ensure that he fully comprehends the challenges that lie ahead. “This is no simple feat—”

"I am strong," Neteyam interrupts, sounding a little harsher than he had intended, but it was important to him that you knew of his abilities. "I will be able to train for it well."

Your milky eyes drop to his battle-hardened body, sweeping over his broad shoulders and the ridges of his defined muscles, glistening softly in the sun’s glow. The scars etched on his skin tell tales of past battles and trials, a testament to his experience. Neteyam holds his ground, finding himself flexing subconsciously under your gaze.

"I know you are strong," you retort.

"Yes—"

"But the warriors of the forest are different from those of the mountains," you cut him off with a pointed stare. "It is not just about physical strength; you will have to learn how they train, their techniques, and their ways of life," you begin to move towards him, a challenging look in your eyes. "It is difficult to fill a cup that is already full."

Neteyam's jaw clenches, his gaze unwavering. "Then I will empty my cup. I will adapt," he asserts with passion. "I will prove myself not just to your people but to myself as well. If I am to be chief, I have to embrace your ways."

"Pretty sure you just want to impress her, bro," Lo’ak quips. Neteyam scowls at his remark and, in a swift motion, drives his elbow straight into his younger brother's side. At the impact, Lo’ak immediately folds, nursing his side as his face contorts in pain. “Fuck!”

Ignoring Lo’ak, Neteyam turns back to you, his expression steadfast and unwavering. In that moment, he feels an overwhelming longing to prove himself to you, to earn your admiration and love based on his own merits, not just because of any preconceived notions or expectations.

His determination shines like a beacon, and his sincerity tugs at your heartstrings. It's as if he's baring his soul before you, showing you the depths of his desire to be someone you can truly respect and admire.

With a hum, you settle back, your tail flickering behind you in intrigue. If the rumors carried by the wind from clan to clan about him were to be believed, then you should have known he would want to partake in the ceremony.

Such a bold spirit, evident in those golden eyes of his every time he spoke. The mountains around you seemed to echo with approval, as if Eywa herself was acknowledging his resolve.

"If you are that eager, then I will teach you," you say, the decision firm in your heart. It feels as if a weight is lifted off his shoulders at your acceptance of his offer. Neteyam hums, trying to maintain a stoic expression but the telltale flicks of his ears and tail betray his anticipation and eagerness.

"Do not be mistaken, though. I will not baby you," you add with a daring lilt in your voice. You begin to walk away, the swing of your hips matching the sway of your tail. "Let us hope you can keep up, mighty warrior."

That seemed to only fuel the fire within him further.

Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, a fanged grin stretching across his cheeks. "Yes, ma’am.”

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

see you in the next episode where the reader works her future husband's ass to the ground xoxo

TAGLIST: @rainbowsocks @milktealvrr @strawberri-blonde

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 10 | Newborn Miracle

summary: the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.

warnings: none, just child birth but besides it’s just chris becoming a proud father

authors note: this idea is so adorable I love the concept of babydad!chris and I need more people to write about it, so this is your sign to go do that rn 🫵 luv yall silk and hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The sun had now began to rise, casting a golden color across the sky as I sat nervously in the passenger seat of Chris’s car, my hand clutching the hospital bag like it was a lifeline. Today was the day we had waited for, the day our lives would change forever. After months of preparing ourselves, endless conversations and debates about baby names and painting the nursery a soft shade of orange we were about to meet our little one. Chris was driving with a focused gaze I hadn’t seen before, his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Every so often he would spare glances at me, his blue eyes shining with excitement. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice being a mix of joy and disbelief at whats going to happen today. I turned to him, my heart racing as I speak. “I think so. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I replied, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The thought of actually becoming a parent was almost hard to believe . When we finally arrived at the hospital, the adrenaline kicked in.

We rushed through the automatic doors, our hearts pounding all together. The bright lights and the familiar smell of sanitary welcomed us as we checked in and were hushed towards the maternity section. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation but not just ours but from families around us, each with their own maternity story. After what felt like forever, it was time for me to be called in. Chris held my hand tightly as we walked together into the delivery room. My heart raced as I settled onto the hospital bed and feeling the cool sheets under me.

Nurses huddled around while preparing equipment for the delivery while Chris stood by my side, whispering soft words of motivation. Hours passed with the soft rhythm of contractions guiding us through the whole experience. Chris was never far from me and his presence felt like a warm blanket of comfort. He kept running his hands through my hair, his calming voice reminding me that we were in this together. “You’re doing amazing,” he softly whispered, his faith in me growing by the second. Finally, after what felt like an ongoing battle of will and strength, the moment arrived.

I could feel the overwhelming urge to push, and with each contraction, I used every ounce of strength I had left. In those intense moments, Chris’s eyes became my own. “You’ve got this, ma,” he reassured me, and I leaned into that support. With one final push and an intense surge of energy I didn’t know I had, we heard the most beautiful sound-our baby’s first ever cry. It was like music to our ears.

Suddenly, everything else faded away around us, the pain, the noise, the world outside. In that instant, all that mattered was the life that had just entered into our world. The doctor gently handed our baby to me, and my heart twisted with joy. I looked down and there they were, our little bundle of happiness in soft white blankets. Chris’s breath caught in his throat as he came closer with his eyes wide, filled with emotion all kinds of emotions. “Can I hold them?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement. “Of course,” I smiled, shifting so he could take our baby.

Chris cradled our little one against his chest, and I watched as he radiated with pure love. He kissed their tiny forehead, an expression of shock shadowing his face. “You did it. You brought us this miracle,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion coming straight from the heart. Chris looked down at our baby as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. “I want to do skin-to-skin,” he said and I could see the excitement radiating from him. The nurses smiled approvingly and helped him gently remove his shirt, placing our baby against his bare chest.

The warmth of the moment hugged us as Chris’s skin touched our child’s delicate body. He looked at me, letting the little one into his now vulnerable heart. “Can you believe this?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Our little one squirmed, their little hand reaching for where Chris’s heartbeat lies. I could see a connection forming, a bond that would last a lifetime. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the two of the most important people in my life together.

It was a moment of pure beauty, one I will cherish forever. Chris looked at me and grinned, as his face radiated with joy. “We’re parents,” he said, still star struck, “and this is just the beginning.” In that room surrounded by the warmth of new beginnings, we held each other close, both over the moon and overwhelmed by all of it. Our family was here, and we were ready for the wonderful adventure ahead.

@hearts4werka

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[honeeybee3]

Of Lions and Dragons

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister! reader Summary: Aemond Targaryen, known for his stoic nature and unwavering focus on the realm, is softened by his Lannister wife’s pregnancy. He finds himself drawn to her like a moth to flame, discovering a love that transcends duty and politics. Tonight, he comes home to her, needing her more than he ever thought possible. __________________ The halls of the Red Keep were quiet at this hour, the cold stone walls illuminated by the flickering glow of torchlight. Aemond Targaryen moved silently through the castle, his long strides purposeful as he made his way to his chambers. He’d spent most of his day dealing with Council matters, overseeing reports on the growing tensions in the Riverlands, and managing the ever-increasing burden of his family’s legacy. It was exhausting work, and it left little time for anything else. But tonight, his thoughts were solely on her.

He slowed his pace as he approached their chambers, his chest tightening with anticipation. He always felt this way when he came home to her—the only place in the entire world where he could let his guard down. The only person who saw him as more than just the stern, one-eyed prince of House Targaryen.

His Lannister lioness. His wife. The mother of his child.

He pushed open the heavy door quietly, stepping inside. The sight that greeted him made his heart stutter. She was seated by the fire, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders, her delicate hands resting protectively over the gentle swell of her belly. She looked up as he entered, her amber eyes softening with warmth and affection.

“Aemond,” she murmured, a smile curving her lips. “You’re home.”

He let out a slow breath, as if he’d been holding it in all day. “I am.”

Moving closer, he took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. The simple touch, the feel of her skin against his, brought him a sense of calm he could never find anywhere else.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping to her belly. “And how is our little one?”

She chuckled, a sound like bells ringing on a summer’s morning. “We’re both fine, Aemond. A little tired, but that’s to be expected.”

He frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in concern. “You’ve been resting, haven’t you? You know what the Maester said—”

“Aemond,” she interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. “I’ve been resting. I promise. I’ve spent most of the day embroidering the new blankets for the baby and catching up on some reading.”

His frown eased, though he still looked at her with that intense, almost overprotective gaze. He knew he could be overbearing at times, but he couldn’t help it. Not when it came to her. Not when it came to their unborn child.

“You know I worry,” he muttered, lowering himself to sit beside her. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on her belly. His palm was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the fluttering movements beneath her skin.

She covered his hand with hers, intertwining their fingers over the place where their child rested. “I know. But you don’t need to. I’m strong, Aemond. Our child will be strong, too. A lion and a dragon.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, a lion and a dragon. A formidable combination.”

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in comfortable silence. Aemond’s gaze was focused entirely on her, taking in every detail—the soft curve of her cheek, the way her eyelashes brushed against her skin, the subtle swell of her belly that held their future.

“How is your family?” he asked after a moment, his voice low and careful. He always tread cautiously when speaking of House Lannister. The alliance between the lions and the dragons was still delicate, despite their marriage.

Her smile faltered just slightly, but she kept her voice even. “They are… as they always are. My brother wrote to me today. He sends his regards and wishes us well.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, a familiar flicker of tension passing through him. He’d never gotten along with her brothers—the proud lions of Casterly Rock. They’d made no secret of their skepticism when she’d been betrothed to him, questioning if a match with a second-born Targaryen prince was worthy of their sister. It was a slight Aemond hadn’t forgotten, and likely never would.

But he’d proven them wrong, hadn’t he? He was no mere second son. He was a warrior, a rider of the largest living dragon, and a key figure in the politics of Westeros. And more importantly, he was her husband. The father of her child.

“They will see, in time, what I already know,” she murmured softly, sensing the shift in his mood. “That you are the best man I could have ever chosen.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her. She spoke with such quiet conviction, her gaze unwavering. It still astonished him sometimes—how she could make him feel so understood, so accepted. So loved.

“I never deserved you,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

She shook her head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Don’t say that, Aemond. You are everything I could have hoped for. And more.”

He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. Her hand was soft and cool against his skin, grounding him in a way nothing else could. He turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against her palm.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. They were raw, unguarded, but he didn’t regret saying them. Not to her.

“You’ll never have to find out,” she whispered, shifting closer so she could rest her head against his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. Aemond could feel the steady rise and fall of her breath, the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat against his arm.

After a while, she shifted slightly, glancing up at him with a mischievous smile. “I have something for you.”

His brow arched in curiosity. “Oh?”

She nodded, reaching over to the small table beside her chair. From a delicate wooden box, she pulled out a small, embroidered blanket. The fabric was soft and fine, the stitching intricate and beautiful. A lion and a dragon were woven together in a dance of gold and red thread.

“It’s for the baby,” she explained, her smile widening as she watched his reaction. “I wanted something that would remind them of both their houses. Something that symbolizes both parts of their heritage.”

Aemond stared at the blanket, his throat tightening. The design was perfect—a blend of Targaryen and Lannister sigils, unified in a way that felt both powerful and meaningful. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over the embroidery.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You did this yourself?”

She nodded, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “It took me a while, but I wanted it to be just right.”

“It’s more than just right,” he said softly, turning to look at her. There was a fierce, almost reverent look in his eye. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

Her blush deepened, but she held his gaze, her eyes shining with love. “I wanted our child to know that they are loved and cherished by both of us. That they are a part of something bigger.”

Aemond swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “Thank you,” he finally whispered. “Thank you for… everything. For loving me. For giving me this family.”

She leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat, Aemond. For you. Always for you.”

His hand came up to cup the back of her head, holding her close as he deepened the kiss. It was a slow, tender meeting of lips—a silent promise that spoke of all the things he couldn’t put into words.

When they finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”

“And I love you,” she whispered back, her fingers threading through his hair. “Forever and always.”

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. Outside, the world was filled with turmoil and uncertainty, but here, in this small, quiet moment, they were at peace. It was a fleeting reprieve, a rare glimpse of happiness amidst the chaos of their lives.

But it was enough. Because no matter what happened, no matter what challenges they faced, they had each other. And together, they were stronger than any storm.

The lion and the dragon. Bound by love. Bound by fire.

And soon, they would welcome the next chapter of their story—a new life that would carry on their legacy. A child born of two great houses. A child who would be loved, cherished, and protected.

Aemond glanced down at her belly once more, his heart swelling with a fierce, protective love. He would do anything for her. For their child. For their family.

He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her belly. “I can’t wait to meet you, little one,” he whispered softly. “And I promise—I will always be there for you. Just as I am for your mother.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked down at him, her heart overflowing with love. “I know you will, Aemond. I know you will.”

And in that moment, with his wife’s hand in his and the future cradled between them, Aemond Targaryen felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

And it was beautiful.

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ THREE MINUTES ! - rindou haitani / 10.08 / kinktober

CW: public "sex", fingering, teasing, they're best friends, female anatomy, she/her used, one-sided pleasure, that's all lol

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: welcome to the fifth post of my kinktober series! i hope you enjoy. leave a like or reblog to show support. (updates this week might be off or posted on a diff day since i'll be traveling somewhere with family. if not posted on the designated day, it will be posted eventually when i get back home.)

it took a lot of pleading, a lot of pouting, and quite a bit of persuasion for y/n to finally get rindou to agree to see a horror movie with her. he’d been reluctant, as always, keeping his usual stoic expression as she begged, a faint sigh escaping him after she tugged at his sleeve one too many times.

“alright, fine,” he finally said, rolling his eyes with a small, barely-there smile. “but you’re paying for the popcorn.”

y/n’s face lit up instantly, and she practically bounced in excitement. “deal! you won’t regret it, i promise!”

now, sitting side by side in the dim theater, rindou was starting to question his decision. as soon as the movie began, he leaned back in his seat, trying to relax as the ominous music set the tone. y/n was fully immersed, her eyes wide as she clutched his arm during each jump scare, gasping and gripping his hand tighter with every loud noise and flickering shadow on the screen.

rindou, on the other hand, sat unbothered, his expression unfazed by the attempts to frighten him. he shot her a sidelong glance, noting the way she reacted to the tension, a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. she was so easily scared, and he found it endearing, though he’d never say so.

about halfway through, he noticed something different. y/n’s grip had loosened, and her eyes, while still on the screen, had a faraway look in them. she seemed to be shifting in her seat, her legs rubbing together subtly, her face flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the horror unfolding onscreen.

rindou quirked an eyebrow, leaning over to whisper, “something more interesting than the movie going on?”

y/n’s head snapped toward him, caught off guard, and she felt a deep wave of embarrassment. “what? no, i was just... i’m watching, i swear.”

he gave her a knowing look, one that made her squirm under his gaze. “right. because from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re a little too distracted to be paying attention to what’s going on,” he murmured, his voice low, a faint smirk ghosting across his face. “did you really just waste our money on tickets just to get yourself all worked up over nothing?”

she huffed, crossing her arms in defense. “it’s not my fault! the movie got kind of... you know, intense, and you’re here, and...” her voice trailed off, and she glanced away, clearly embarrassed.

rindou chuckled softly, his usual calm demeanor breaking just enough for her to catch it. “oh, i see. so, you dragged me out here, begged me to watch this horror movie, and now you’re not even paying attention. that’s what i’m hearing.”

y/n pouted, tugging on his arm. “rindou, come on. i can’t help it...”

he leaned closer, his face only inches from hers, his voice a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “can’t help it, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing. “guess i’ll have to find a way to keep you entertained, since the movie isn’t cutting it.”

her eyes widened as he settled back in his seat, his hand casually resting on her thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her skin. she shot him a look, torn between shock and excitement, but he just kept that same indifferent expression, his gaze focused forward as if nothing unusual was happening.

“rindou,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the movie’s background noise. “people are around...”

he raised an eyebrow, not bothering to look at her, his thumb continuing its slow, deliberate movement. “you’re the one who couldn’t keep it together,” he said with a smirk. “don’t blame me for distracting you when you’re the one getting ideas.”

y/n’s heart raced, the weight of their friendship hanging heavy in the silence between them. she knew they were toeing a line, crossing into something unspoken and uncertain, yet she didn’t pull away. instead, she found herself leaning into his touch, the thrill of it mixing with a quiet fear that they couldn’t just come back from this.

she looked up at him, a small, hesitant smile tugging at her lips. “you know we probably shouldn’t...”

“probably,” he murmured, his voice steady, but his hand never moved. he glanced down at her, his usual calm exterior cracking just enough for her to see something else behind it—a question, a hesitation that matched her own. “but we’re already here, aren’t we?”

they held each other’s gaze, neither of them willing to break the moment, knowing they were treading dangerous ground. but in the dim glow of the theater, with his hand on her thigh and her fingers inching toward his, it felt like a risk they were both willing to take, consequences be damned.

"if you don’t want this, tell me now."

y/n remained quiet and rindou glanced at her, seeing that her gaze was already on him. she reached for his hand, her impatience making her guide him up her thigh a bit more. rindou's eyes widened immediately when we wasn't met with any sort of fabric at all, but the immediate warmth of her sex.

"what the hell, n/n?" he questioned, not moving his hand, but the flustered expression on his face said enough. a shiver coursed through her body as he pressed his digits against her. "please don't question it." she sighed trying to keep her voice low.

"was this your plan this whole time?" he asked and she let out an embarassed groan and rindou felt some pity at that. they'd been bestfriend's since forever and despite his attitude, rindou would drop anything in a second if y/n ever asked. she always came first in every situation, and she knew that. "so you didn't wanna watch this movie afterall?"

she looked at him, nodding her head. "i did, but..." she trailed off. "but you're too focused on this, huh?" just then, his fingers used her slick to slip his middle digit into her sex. she bit down on her inner cheek and her legs tightened around his hand. "what got you all worked up?"

y/n remained silent, avoiding the question. this piqued rindou's interest, making him slide his digits in deeper. y/n let out a shaky breath, trying to not bring attention to themselves, but the more rindou pleasured her, the more she squirmed in her seat. "are you dodging the question, y/n? if you are, I'll stop."

"no, no. don't stop." she pled, looking at rindou with glazed eyes. "then tell me. i have a feeling i know what it is." he shifted himself in his seat. trying to ignore his current situation as well. he thanked the dark lightning in the theater that caused her to not see his growing erection. "i was just wondering how you would feel inside me." she managed to get out.

"it's not very nice to have those kinds of thoughts about your bestfriend, y/n."

"can't help-" she was cut off when his in and out motions quickened. y/n lifted her lips to lean back a bit to slouch in the seat. this newfound position allowed rindou to reach deeper, caressing that sensetive spot that would drive her insane. "you're not being as discreet as you probably should, n/n." a smile appeard on his lips.

"so hurry up." she managed to glare at him and rindou rolled his eyes, focusing back on the movie in front of them. his fingers held no mercy on y/n despite the occasional whimpers that she would try to hide in her palm, the fidgeting of her legs closing around him, and the way her hand gripped his wrist with all the strength in her body. "quicker you come, the quicker you can be quiet." he muttered, tone sounding unbothered.

"i couldn’t care less if anyone figured out what we were doing, but that's all you're worried about, huh, y/n?" he taunted. "too focused on them to come?"

he reached over to y/n, using his freehand to turn her head to him. "you have three minutes. if you can't come before then, I'm stopping."

"what the fuck, rindou?" she shot him a harsh glare and a smile barely made it way to his lips but it was filled with anything but purity. he was the biggest tease ever and y/n knew this but hated that fact that she put it past him especially in situations like these. "come on, n/n. your time is wasting."

he sped his fingers up and y/n held his wrist steady before she grinded down onto his digits. he caressed that pleasure-filled spot once again and she shut her eyes, trying to turn off the rest of her senses.

she heard rindou speaking, but it all sounded muffled to her. if she listened to him, it'll feel all too real and that would throw her in for a loop all over again. his digits felt just right and she thought that if she focused on them enough, she could reach her high in no time.

that was proven to be true when she noticed that he sped up his motions even more, helping her as she continued to ride them, not caring about the other eyes around her. "rindou." she muttered through a whisper. she heard him hum, but she couldn't trust herself to speak at the moment.

instead, she tightly held onto his wrist as she balanced on that familiar edge of pure bliss. "come, n/n." that was all ot took for her to tip over. she tightened her already shut eyes, hoping that she wasn't being too loud. her sounds of pleasure came out as a moan, but it was muffled by a hand that wasn't her own. she felt the cool touch of metal agaisnt her lip and she realized it was from a ring that rindou always wore on his right hand.

"two minutes?" he smiled, watching as she carefully opened her eyes, her chest heaving with a fast pace. "i'm never doing this with you again." she muttered, looking around for a gaze that met her own.

"of course not. that would be crossing the line, right?"

y/n didn’t miss the pure sarcasm in his tone and she hated how she only clenched around his fingers once more so no matter what she would say next, he knew what she felt deep down.

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[brighttears]

The Mirror

Joel Miller x f!reader, Found Family Joel x Ellie

Summary: In Jackson, Joel and Ellie have settled down, and you’ve joined their little family. You and Ellie have bonded over poking fun at him, having no idea how much you’re really hurting his already wounded self esteem. Tommy and Maria step in, and eventually, he finds the courage to speak up for himself. 

Word count: 10k

Warnings: implied age gap, angst, mentions of Sarah, very sad Joel hates himself, is made fun of for his age and briefly weight, Ellie and you are pretty mean, brief pissed off Joel, Joel cries. Happy ending!!!

A/n: hello from my official first story back, finally finishes this request i started before i dipped out for a bit. Worked very closely with them, @anotherpedrolover to get it just right :3 This is less of an x reader and more of just playing around with Joel and his relationships, which has been super fun. Hope you guys like ~8k words of our favorite poor little meow meow suffering teehee

—

It’s become a ritual for the three of you to sit in the living room many evenings, starting with you and Joel encouraging Ellie to read more, followed by a speech by her on hypocrisy and fairness, whereafter the two of you gave in just to calm her down. It’s quite nice, though, sitting around and reading silently. 

You were the one to suggest it, once you felt like you did have room to suggest things, a few months into moving in with the two, having met them nearly a year beforehand here in Jackson. Ellie met you first, then almost literally pulled him to meet you. 

Neither he or Ellie had been that social, keeping mostly to themselves, Tommy and Maria being the only exceptions. You were different, though, that’s what Ellie said, and that’s what Joel came to see, too. He’s not exactly sure what to call that thing, the thing at your core that pulled him in. But it doesn’t matter much, because now you’re here, and he’s never loved a woman as much as he loves you.

As he glances up at you, leg hanging over the side of your chair opposite him, face focused on your book, he can’t help but smile at the spark of warmth he gets at the sight. 

Naturally, Ellie has her legs stretched out over Joel’s lap, him resting his book over them as he sits on the couch. 

She didn’t start being this affectionate until a few months into Jackson. Not all that gradually either, the first few bear hugs genuinely shocking him, but he couldn’t be more pleased with the development. He’s had to get used to affection again himself, coming both from Ellie and you. Now that you live together, he finds himself entwined with you, in one way or another, every single night, and he has found himself indulging more than he has in anything in ages. Nowadays, he eats every touch up like a stray dog. Things like this, Ellie’s lazy legs over his, makes him feel like a father again. Things like twin idling hands over every part of each other you can reach makes him feel like a husband. Nights like these, all gathered in the living room, makes it feel like you’re a family. 

However, his bladder refuses to let him soak up the moment anymore, so he breaks the peaceful silence, sliding Ellie’s legs off of his lap, “Alright, kiddo, I gotta interrupt ya for a minute.” As he gets to his feet, Joel groans automatically, nearly limping on a stiff knee for a moment as he turns around the couch and towards the hallway.

Watching him walk away, Ellie pouts, before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Look, look, I’m Joel.” Once she sees him looking at her, she groans, dramatically loud, pushing herself out of her seat slowly, then proceeding to walk even slower, one heavy foot at a time with her back curved and an imaginary cane in her hand. “Aauuh, my back, my knees, aaaugh,” she says with a gravelly voice, face twisted down. Immediately, you’re guffawing. Joel shakes his head as he watches, then looks down to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hint of a smile on his face. Though the impression is pretty funny, he doesn’t love the fact that it’s supposed to be of him. 

“I’m 58, not 80, asswipe.”

“Come oooon,” she laughs, “that was spot on.”

“You do groan like you just got punched in the gut every time you get up.” You chuckle. 

Despite how much he loves the sight, looking at the way you and Ellie grin and laugh with each other suddenly hits a chord in Joel. You’re laughing with each other, at him. It feels like neither of you give a damn about him in this situation at all. He’s just something to make fun. And, is that really how you see him? Senile? 

Joel shakes it off, making himself chuckle, not wanting to ruin the fun, labeling himself as overly sensitive. “Can’t even take a piss in peace.” He mumbles as he turns and walks away, leaving you and Ellie in giggles behind him. 

In the bathroom, he stares at his reflection. Gray, wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes, littered in scars. He guesses it really is the best thing, for you all to be in Jackson, because he doesn't have many more years left out there on the road. He’s lucky he hasn’t gotten himself or Ellie killed, god knows there were more than a few close calls, like when she had to shoot that kid, or had to nurse him back to health when he didn’t see that last guy coming at the university and got himself impaled. He’s too old for that. He’s too old. 

You’re much younger. It confuses him often, why’d you want to be with an old man like him, but he has decided to take what he can get at this point. You haven’t left yet, so he’ll enjoy it while he can. But how many years does he have left of that, if you do stay? With you and Ellie? 

He can barely recognize himself. When did he get this old? His joints ache in changing weather. He has to put significantly more effort into getting up, and yeah, he does groan like he just got punched whenever he does. One day, if he even gets that far, he will need a cane. He won’t even be able to go on patrols. In just a few years, he’ll be useless. He won’t be able to keep anyone safe at all. Hell, he’s probably at this point now. Slow and deaf and weak. 

At least Ellie will have you. But… eventually, you’ll have to take care of him, too.

It all becomes too much. He looks down, and turns the light off. 

—

Tonight is game night at Tommy and Maria’s, the game of choice being Monopoly, both Ellie’s favorite and least favorite, depending on whether or not she wins, though you’re all pretty competitive. She’s in the lead tonight, standing over the table to aggressively shake the dice, then, when they land in her favor, pretty much ending the game, throwing her hands up in victory with a very loud succession of yes’s. Joel, who had been right on her tail, throws his hands up with a dramatic “Aaawww,” a smile under his mock disappointment. 

“Another loss for Joel,” Ellie tells him, smiling, then bows, “thanks to yours truly.”

“That was the luck of the dice, Ellie.” Joel points out, leaning back in his chair. 

“No, that was me beating your ass. You can’t keep up with me, old man.” She smiles, throwing up more air punches. Everyone’s laughing, and Joel tries his best to, but there’s that line he hates. Tommy, however, can't miss the look under his brother's half hearted chuckle. 

“Hey, Joel, help me get some wood for the fire.” Tommy cocks his head to the back door, and the two leave you, Maria, and Ellie inside to chat and put the game back away. 

They start at the woodpile, taking a few logs to the back porch, but at the door, Tommy pauses, setting his small stack down. “Hey, Joel.” Joel places his logs down, then straightens to look at him. Tommy purses his lips, pausing. “Looks like they’re gettin’ along pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down with a light smile. “Sure are.” 

“They sure do like to take the mick out on ya.” Joel tries to hide behind a chuckle, but Tommy sees through him like a pane of glass. “Doesn’t seem like you’re havin’ as much fun with it as they are, though.”

“Ah,” Joel waves his hand dismissively, still trying to smile, “it’s all in good fun. I don’t mind.”

Tommy sighs, stepping forward to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, making him look at him. He draws his brows together, keeping his voice quiet, “You can be honest with me, Joel. I know it’s botherin’ you.”

Joel looks down at his feet. “You’re right I mean, I don’t love their fun bein’ at my expense, but… if they’re havin’ fun and gettin’ along, who am I to stop them?”

“Nah, Joel. It shouldn't be like that. You gotta set up some boundaries or somethin’.”

Joel shakes his head. “It’s no big deal. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care.”

Tommy sighs. “Yeah, well, I care, and I know they do, too. I know it’s hurtin’ you, and I know they would stop doin’ it they knew.”

Joel raises his gaze to look at his brother with genuine eyes. “If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

Pursing his lips, Tommy shakes his head. “You don’t look very happy.”

Brushing it off, Joel chuckles, looking down at his feet again. “Well, I’ll work on that, then.”

Tommy's expression remains the same, almost pleading. Quietly, he urges, “You should tell them, Joel.”

After a moment, Joel replies quietly, “Yeah, yeah.” 

Knowing full well that he won’t, Tommy sighs. After a pause, he sighs again, then picks the logs back up and goes back into the house. 

Joel keeps his gaze on the ground, considering his brother’s words. He imagines the conversation, the hurt and disappointment on the face of two of his favorite people, the shame he’d feel, and the resulting quiet in the house. 

Tommy has talked to him about his bad habit of putting himself last, but he has yet to understand why that’s a problem, why he would deserve it being any other way. 

Though he tries to keep it out of his mind, he thinks about it every day, how he lied to Ellie after Salt Lake City. Sometimes, when he looks at her, that’s all he sees, and he sees the same thing in the mirror. He betrayed her. And he can’t find a way to tell her. So, doesn’t he owe her his own suffering? He can repent without telling her by letting her be as mean as she wants, even though he knows she doesn’t mean to be. It's better than how she would treat him if she knew what he did. 

He feels so disconnected from her already, but he can’t stand to lose her. That’s why he did what he did in the first place, both the killing and the lying. He just can’t. 

He deserves this. He’s a liar, he's weak, he's old, he’s not fun like he used to be. He can’t keep up. So, why should he say anything? What makes him deserve to stand up for himself? Why would he deserve any respect at all? 

He just can’t lose her. Or you. Even if this is how it is from now on, being made fun of, it’s better than nothing. 

Joel takes a deep breath, picks up the thick, heavy logs, and walks back through the door, wiping the sour look on his face as he enters back into the sound of banter and laughter. 

He does pretty well, his training of keeping himself hidden away with a composed mask paying off. Still, it’s on his mind. 

It’s impulsive, really, when he poses the question casually to Ellie, “You really think I can’t keep up with you? Gettin’ too old?”

“Pff,” Ellie chuckles, elbowing him. “Don’t get me wrong, you can hold your own, but look at those gray hairs. You could be my grandpa.” To Ellie, it’s funny, but Joel’s guts twist. He laughs it off. 

He slinks to your side then, sliding his arm around your waist. You offer a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, but swallows hard. 

“Hey uh,” he tries with you, “Little Ellie said she thinks I could be her grandpa. Makin’ be feel like a manther.”

“Manther?” You crinkle your brow, a hint of a laugh on your lips.

“Yeah, you know,” he cocks his head, self conscious. “Like I’m uh, too old for you.”

You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his cheeks. “I like the gray.” That’s all you say before turning back to the conversation. Though you lean into his side, it doesn’t make Joel feel any closer to you. 

He is an old man. And that’s about it. 

He doesn’t deserve either of you. He’s not enough.

He has no idea what he’s doing here. 

—

It’s a slow, quiet morning in Jackson, Joel still sleepy as he sips his coffee, sitting at the breakfast bar as you pour a cup of your own across from him in the kitchen. Despite the seeming dullness of them, mornings like these are one of Joel’s favorite things. Simply peaceful, no dreading the day, he’s allowed to be only half awake. With the love of his life to share it with, and Ellie to come join you whenever she decides to pull herself out of bed—because she’s allowed to take her time, now, too. Joel looks at you, standing with your back against the counter with a mug in your hand. There’s a light smile on your face, but you’re looking at the floor, which is curious, and then you wink, but he barely has time to register it before Ellie comes jumping up from the other side of the counter, yelling “BOO!” right in his face.

“Jesus fuck—” he yells on impulse, almost flinging coffee on himself as he lurches back in his seat, eyes wide, instantly completely awake. You and Ellie immediately erupt in laughter, Ellie leaning over the counter at him with a wide grin. “Jesus, Ellie.” He sighs deeply, closing his eyes and taking a breath as he leans back in his chair. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, old man.” Ellie giggles while you continue in your fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel rolls his eyes, sighing again as he leans wearily over the counter, trying to catch his bearings and calm his pulse.

Still laughing, you and Ellie high five. “That was good,” you giggle at her, then look at him as he rubs his eyes, a faint smile still on his lips. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when the two of you are laughing like this. “You’re too easy, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He chuckles lightly, “So much for a peaceful morning. Christ, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack, Ellie.”

“Aw, you can handle it.” She replies, going around the bar to slap his shoulder, still grinning. “Besides, I know CPR.”

Joel looks at her, attitude in his voice when he asks, “Do you?” Because he knows full well that she does not know CPR.

“Yeah. It’s like that song, you know, the one that goes, being alive, being alive,”

“You mean stayin’ alive?”

“Yeah, whatever, that.”

“That’s a song, Ellie, not CPR. And you don’t even know the damn song.”

“Well… she knows CPR.” She points at you, “Right?”

You nod, an amused smile on your face, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you’ll be fiiiine.” Ellie slaps Joel’s shoulder again, and he gives her a look, brows raised.

“Well, I would prefer not to have to get CPR at all.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to being boo’d by me by now.”

“Boo’d?” Joel scrunches his raised brows.

“Yeah, you know, BOO.”

Joel looks at her, hiding amusement with a mask of the fuck are you talking about. Then he shakes his head, going back to his coffee. “I swear to god, you two.” He mumbles into a sip, holding in a chuckle. 

“Aw, come on, you love it.” You say with a smile. He raises his eyebrows at you, answering flatly, “Sure I do.” Which only makes you and Ellie laugh more. 

With Ellie in the kitchen, the morning is no longer quiet, now filled with banter and conversation. Joel stays mostly quiet with his coffee, observing. He really was enjoying the peacefulness, and it takes a while for his pulse to calm, but what’s important is the two of you; you’re his favorite show. He loves nothing more than to see you two happy. And you fit each other very well—you can actually keep up with her. 

You’re his favorite person, and probably Ellie’s favorite, too. The two of you are thick as thieves, and have grown to love making fun out of him. But it’s good, it’s good that you’ve bonded over it. That’s what matters. Because you two are far more important than he is. 

—

Joel is exhausted tonight, though the patrol wasn’t too much. A few Infected at the tree line, not much more, but his sleep hasn’t been the best lately. It’s starting to get chilly again, and he has been looking forward to getting home to a warm house, and to hopefully catch Ellie before she goes to bed. 

When he enters the house, he can hear familiar, faint giggling from upstairs. He smiles at it, hanging his coat on its hook by the door before starting up the steps. The quiet chatter is coming from Ellie’s room, and his smile only grows as he pushes the door open with his knuckle. 

The two of you whip your heads to him, sitting cross legged on the floor. 

“What’re you two gigglin’ about?” He asks with a smirked smile. 

“Nothing.” Is Ellie’s immediate reply, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. 

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel’s heart falls, but he keeps it to himself. “I take it I won’t get to hear about this then, huh?” He tries to keep the smile on his lips, though his chest is starting to ache. 

“Yeah, it’s just between us girls, you know.” You smile like Ellie. 

“Oh. Ok.” He clears his throat, feet shifting out of the doorway. “I guess I’ll uh, leave you two to it then.” All you do is smile at him, a dismissal of his presence, and he backs out of the doorway and leaves for his bedroom. 

As he unties his boots, Joel’s heart gets heavier and heavier. He kicks them off, changes, and slides into bed, wanting the day to be over. But his mind won’t obey, keeping him from sleep once again. 

It used to be between him and Sarah. They’d have all kinds of late night talks, granted it wasn’t a school night. He knew everything, all the teachers she liked and didn’t, every crush, why the book she was assigned for homework was stupid. And he’d talk about work, everything that was going on, the deadlines that kept getting impossibly tighter, how the apprentices were doing. 

They’d talk about where they wanted to go on vacation, what colleges Sarah was daydreaming about despite her youth, whether or they should get a dog or a cat, what it would be like if Sarah’s mom was still around. 

Everything. 

On the road, he and Ellie would talk about plenty of stuff. They got close. He remembers when they were riding to where the Fireflies were supposed to be, before he got stabbed by that bat and almost died and then Silver Lake. And then how thought everything was solved right after, and how it wasn’t, and then Salt Lake City happened. 

It’s a completely different world. From 2003, from just a couple years ago.

Now, Ellie’s here, in this big community. She’s in school. Living in a house. About as normal as one can get these days. 

But it’s not like it was when he had another young girl living with him. He misses that. He misses Ellie. 

But at least she has you. 

But he wishes it was him. At least, partly, him. 

But it’s not. 

He closes his eyes. 

—

“Joel!” Ellie cries out, violently ripping Joel out of sleep, and he’s instantly on his feet. When he hears your voice crying his name out, too, every cell in his body is in a panic, almost falling as he races down the stairs. What could have happened? Have Infected broken through the gates? Is someone attacking you? Did one, or both of you, get injured? Is he about to lose one of you? This place is supposed to be safe! 

When he finally sees you, he’s befuddled. 

You’re both smiling in the kitchen, bacon searing in a pan next to one of scrambled eggs. 

“We made breakfast!” You announce, both of you giggling. 

Joel swallows, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Are y—is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, we just wanted to let you know that we made breakfast.”

Once the shock has worn off, anger bubbles up. He feels it register on his face, but tries his best to reel himself in, swallowing hard. You made him breakfast. You made breakfast for all three of you. That’s a very nice thing to do. All you were doing was waking him up. You weren’t trying to hurt him. You didn’t know how it would affect him, how it would nearly make his life flash before his eyes. That’s his problem, not yours. 

“Y—don’t—just, come wake me up next time.” He states, trying to keep a hold on his sternness. 

“Jeez,” Ellie raises her brows, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 

Joel sighs through his nose, looking at you, but all you do is shrug with a smile. He swallows. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Mornin’, just us.” Tommy calls out, he and his wife smiling back at a confused Joel when he opens the door. 

“I invited them for breakfast this morning, remember?” You say as you come up beside him, a hand instinctively rubbing his back. 

“Oh, I uh,” Joel glances between you and the couple at his door, “must’ve forgot. Come on in.”

“Forgetting a lot these days,” Ellie teases as she sets plates out on the table. Her tone is teasing, but Joel can’t help the tightening of his jaw at the reminder of his failures. When he flicks his eyes back up, he’s me with Tommy’s, and he knows he’s been caught red handed by the concern in them. He switches his gaze right back to the floor, making his way to a seat at the table. 

“Wow, look at this spread,” Maria comments, smoothing the cloth napkin under the silverware over her lap, a move that only makes Joel think again, what am I doing here? Cloth napkins alone are something that hadn’t crossed his mind in just about two decades. And despite Maria’s innocent move, paired with her eventual attempt to make him feel more welcome into the community, the resentment he feels for her hasn't quite let him go. So… civilized, so proper. Better than him.

“Well, make sure you serve yourself first, Joel likes to hog bacon.” Ellie returns as the five of you settle down at the table. 

“I do not,” he counters, tone mild, though slightly wounded. 

“Do to.” She raises her brows as she spoons eggs onto her plate, “You’re gonna need to get a bigger pair of pants soon, swear.”

To his dismay, you’re chuckling when he looks at you. And when he sees the obvious concern in his brother's eyes, he decides it might be best just to keep his head down. So, he hardly says anything at all, despite Tommy’s repeated attempts to bring him into the conversation. He’s busy arguing with himself in his head, still partly angry, but feeling guilty, too. He wants to be pissed. It was a rude awakening, but it was meant to be harmless. It makes him feel like he doesn’t belong here, like his head is still stuck out there outside of the walls. But he should still be on alert, nowhere is really safe, not even Jackson. What if you were hurt? What if something had happened? He needs to be ready. And you two were being reckless, calling wolf like that. But you were just trying to call him to breakfast. It was innocent. You’re both innocent. 

And then the fact that he forgot that Tommy and Maria were coming over this morning. He almost can’t believe himself. His mind, his sharpness, clarity, and memory, that he’d relied on for survival, is he losing it? Fucking senile. Fucking weak. Fucking stupid. Selfish, just by being here.

It goes around and around like that, and in the end, he can barely finish his food. Ellie’s earlier teasing doesn’t help, either. She’s right, he has gained some weight since arriving in Jackson, but who can blame him, after being close to starving so often? Well, Ellie can, apparently. 

But she means nothing by it, right? And you’re not laughing because you agree, right? 

“Hey,” Tommy startles him out of his spiral, cocking his head towards the kitchen when Joel looks up at him, “come help me with the dishes. Least we can do for these ladies making a whole meal for all of us.” 

Nodding, Joel gets up to help gather plates and follow his brother to the kitchen. Tommy stays quiet for a few moments as he wipes the plates that Joel washes, but he knows he’s in for a lecture sooner or later. 

“Joel.” He finally says, keeping his voice low with the help of the running faucet to keep the conversation quiet. “You gotta say something.”

“About what?” Joel mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on rinsing a soapy plate. He hears his brother sigh.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s fine, Tommy.” He nearly snaps back. 

His brother turns to him, “No, it ain’t.” When Joel doesn’t look up, he sighs again. “Look at me, Joel.” Finally he does. “It’s just not right.” Tommy shakes his head, tone both with genuine concern for his brother with a lilt of anger towards you and Ellie. When Joel notices it, he straightens, almost puffing out his chest. Holding himself back from shoving his finger in Tommy’s chest, he replies sternly, “Now don’t you go blaming them for my fuckin’... sensitivity—” 

“Stop, Joel.” Tommy takes a breath, taking the last clean plate from his hands and slowly drying it as he speaks. “It just hurts me. To see them treating you like that. And I know they don’t mean it like that, and I know that they don’t know. And that's why I’m tellin’ you, you have to speak up for yourself. Please, Joel, if not for your sake, then for mine, and for theirs.” He points his finger back towards the living room. 

Joel huffs, looking back down as the faucet runs over the clean plate. “I'll deal with it.” He says eventually. 

Tommy lets out his own huff, pausing. “Alright.” He replies quietly, pausing again before making his way back into the living room. After a moment of watching him go, Joel turns back to the sink, shutting off the tap and swiping up the towel to dry off his hands. “Can’t catch a fuckin’ break.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about what a wonderful way this is to start off his day.

—

This weekend, it’s the second Miller household’s turn to host game night, and after a very loud game of Uno, the five of you have settled down in the living room for a drink—except for Ellie, that is, who, like every time a bottle is opened around her, begged for a glass and rolled her eyes when she was told, no, you cannot have a glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

The brothers are stood chatting about the latest fixer upper with their elbows on the mantle while the girls are huddled up on the couch. 

“Figure we got about a month left.” Joel concludes, and Tommy nods in agreement, and then their attention is brought to a burst of giggles. It turns the corner of Joel’s lip up, and he inquires, “What so funny over there?” 

The giggles stop, and all three of your heads switch over to his question. 

“Private,” is all Ellie says, and you have to stifle a giggle. 

Having been told that twice now, Joel’s heart falls, but irritation quickly bubbles up. Flustered, his lip twitches, and he hardens his brow. 

“Ellie,” he starts, adjusting his arm on the mantle, voice sharp like the glass in his chest, “it’s rude to have a private conversation when we’re trying to all have family time here.”

“Jesus,” Ellie rolls his eyes, only piquing Joel further, “manners!”

“Manners—“ Joel starts, ready to set fire to the entire living room, wounded and now humiliated in front of his brother and his wife, but she interrupts him, “Yeah, manners, we’re over here trying to have a private conversation which you are interrupting. Goes both ways, old man. Don’t get all mad at me cause you’re still so un-domesticated.”

Her tone isn’t serious, but her words make him feel hollow. He shifts on his feet, torn between anger and shame, then glances at Tommy. His brows are upturned, his lips a thin line. Joel’s chest tightens, now frustrated and only further embarrassed at snapping. He hasn’t done that in a while. He’s trying. He’s trying to learn how to be calm. How to breathe. How to be polite. Keep his cool. 

But his lip twitches, and his mind goes blank. 

“Ellie, knock it off.” He nearly growls. Her eyes widen, brow raised. “Woah, there,” but then you cut in, softer voice almost pleading, “She’s just being a teenager, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what teenagers are like. Doesn’t mean we have to put up with the bullshit.” 

“Joel—” Tommy tries. Joel turns to him, face scrunched, “Don’t Joel, me, Tommy. Am I the only one gettin’ fed up with this shit?”

“What shit?” Ellie cuts back in, face scrunched just the same. 

Joel takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “The shit where you disrespect everyone who—” he pauses. Everyone who’s put their life on the line to put up with you, is what had tempted his tongue. Thank god his teeth had the instinct to bite his tongue when they did, because it would have been something that he didn’t mean, that he didn’t even believe. He glances around at every set of eyes turned to him, all looking like they’re bracing themselves. He falters, lets out a breath, then heads straight for the kitchen. “Fuckin’ bullshit.” Comes out under his breath.

Opening the fridge to set an ice cube that he doesn’t need into his near empty cup, he takes a breath, forcing it out through his nostrils. “The fuck is his problem?” He hears Ellie whisper from the other room, and that’s when the anger slips away to make room for the crushing guilt, and he finds himself unable to move, chest knotted and heavy.  

“Hey,” he hears quietly at his side, turning to see Maria leaning against the doorframe. 

Snapping back into reality, he closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, knowing ignoring her is unacceptable. He’s just not in the fucking mood.

“Hey.” His voice comes out gruff. 

She comes around to his side, forcing him to turn with his back towards the living room. She glances back at it, then lowers her voice. “Tommy talked to me about—“

“Course he did.” Joel grumbles, closing his eyes and swiping his hand over his forehead.

“Yeah,” Maria cuts back in, tilting her head with sharp eyes. Then, she closes them, bowing her head for a moment before coming back up with a forced, calm expression, a strategy he envies deeply. “He did,” she begins again, “because he cares. Therefore, I care. Ellie was rude. And I apologize for that.” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, but as soon as his mouth starts to form a rebuff, she cuts him off again. “Can you just let me finish, Joel?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering her tone. “She is the one who doesn’t have manners, she’s the one who has never lived in a civilized community. Not like this. Not like the world before. Because of that, she also doesn't understand boundaries. So,” she sighs, tilting her head again, “being in the position you are, it’s your responsibility to teach her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing because she never learned. You have. You’re a good man, and a strong man.” Joel is taken aback by her words, not expecting a compliment from her, especially not paired with the earnestness in her eyes. “You deserve kindness and respect. Not to say you need to discipline her, just… let her know. How you’re feeling. That she’s hurting you.”

Joel is so tired of saying he’s fine when he isn’t so many times in the last week that he decides to just keep his mouth shut for a moment. After a moment, he nods, staring down at the dregs of gold left in his glass. 

“Thank you.” He eventually mumbles. 

“You're welcome.” She returns with a tight lipped but genuine smile. Then, she pats his arm, and walks back to the living room, announcing, “Hate to be the one to say it, but it’s bedtime.”

As they bid their goodnights, Joel is almost absent, besides the feeling of tension in the air like static whenever Ellie nears him. 

In his head, there’s shame, first and foremost—for snapping at Ellie, to have a problem that Tommy had to talk to his wife about. For not seeing what Maria saw, too wrapped up in his head to see the bigger picture; by letting her down, again.

But there’s something on his mind, too. An idea of how to fix it. Having his head grabbed and forced to look through the lens of being responsible, not just a victim, flicks a switch in his head. The first occurrence of a drive to actually talk to her about it. Now, it’s for her. He can do that. Because he’ll do anything for her. 

—

The next night, Joel pauses in front of Ellie’s door, careful to stay out of the line of light coming from her bedside lamp. He raps his knuckles softly on the door, “Hey, you got a sec?”

“Yeah,” Ellie calls back, followed by the soft thwap of a closing book, “come in.” 

His steps are hesitant, almost awkward as he makes his way to the bed, permissed to sit when she brings her legs up to fold under her. 

“Listen, baby girl,” Joel starts, eyes on the floor as memories of talks with Sarah that always start with that very phrase. “I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Mhm?” She nods, innocence in her eyes that make his gaze land straight back on the floor. 

“We just… uh, boundaries.” He attempts at purpose in his voice. “You gotta understand, when, uh, y’know, you can’t just go around teasing people all the time.”

“I don’t tease everyone, I just tease y—“

“Yeah, I know. But you can’t make that a habit, alright? It can hurt people's feelings, sometimes.” 

This is the best Joel can do, unable to openly speak on how he feels, tell her that she’s hurt him. But Ellie won’t let him off that easily, her tone softening, sounding almost like she’s just a kid, which she is, but barely ever shows. “I hurt your feelings?” 

It comes out so small, fidgeting with her fraying sleeve, and that’s what he focuses his eyes on, afraid that if he meets hers, he’ll freeze at the sight. That he’ll see guilt. But he has a purpose. He can’t let himself trip. 

The words pauses and strains in his throat a couple times before he can manage them out. “Yeah, sometimes.”

There’s a pause. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know kiddo, I,” he pauses to sigh as guilt washes through his chest, I deserve it ringing in his head, but then he thinks back to Maria’s words. Then, it hits him. Ellie also needs to learn how to speak up for herself. To know that when someone hurts her feelings, she should confront them—using her words instead of her fists—and that she shouldn’t feel sorry for doing so. “It’s alright, I know you’re not trying to be mean. And I—“ he stops himself again, fidgeting his fingers as he lets the shame pass through and out of him before he speaks again. “Sometimes, I…” he nods, like a nervous tick, eyes safely on the floor as he forces the admission. “I struggle. And I know you know that. And I’m sure it’s been hard on you, too, Jackson… it’s a big adjustment. Haven’t seen anything like this in a long, long time. Having all these people around—friendly people. Sit down meals with real portion sizes. And just… a home. And I love it, I do. But, uh, it’s just… I’m not used to… being… settled down. I’m used to runnin’. Used to fightin’. I startle easy, honey. And sure I shove food in me. And I am getting’ older… but…”

“Takes a lot to get to 58.”

He looks at her then, pausing, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“I know I’ve never actually said it, but… I respect you. Really.” She nods. 

After a long moment, processing and recovering from that unanticipated sentiment, Joel nods back. “Now, listen—“ he starts, leaning his elbows on his knees, “I’m not asking you to say yes sir no sir, just… cut me some slack, sometimes. Alright?” 

Pretending to think on it, Ellie rolls her eyes around the ceiling with a frown before looking back at him and nodding, a small smirk spreading across her face, making Joel’s lips tug up almost automatically. “I think I can manage that.” 

“Now look, I,” he waves his hand out, “I don’t want this to be, you know, like you can’t have fun, I like you talkin’ and messin’ around. Highlight of my day. Sometimes.” He shrugs lightly, getting a small chuckle out of her. “I just… would be nice to… be included.” He nods at her, chest tightening at the vulnerability. “Y’know?”

“Yeah. I get that. How about we just team up on your girlfriend?” She smirks. 

Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “Or maybe we’ll just team up on you.”

“Psh. As if you could cut through this thick skin of mine. Do you have any idea what kind of zoo FEDRA school was?” She laughs, brow raised. 

“And I’m sure you gave ‘em hell.”

“Well… towards the end, yeah.” 

“So you toughened up, huh? Weren’t born like this?”

“Well…” she shrugs. “Not really.” Ellie looks down, tracing spirals on her sheets. “I was real sensitive as a kid.” This makes Joel pause. He imagines her, younger, quiet, reserved, but not in a cagey way—soft. Soft enough to get picked on. He’s not quite sure what to say, but she breaks the silence. “So I get it. And I know it’s not… that bad, but… I don’t want you to think you’re anything less than my favorite person.” The edges of her lip tug up, peering up at him, and Joel’s heart aches, not in pain, but something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. For a moment, he’s frozen, but then he blinks, and retreats his gaze to the floor. “Well, that’s an honor.” He replies quietly. 

Ellie chuckles, even though it wasn’t a joke. “Well, you’re very welcome. Guess I shouldn’t call you old man anymore, so, what, just, Joel?” Her face twists up, making him chuckle at how unacceptable that seems to be. 

“Joel’s fine.” He smirks. 

“Ugh, that’s so boring. How about… cowboy? That’s not disrespectful, is it?”

Joel chuckles again, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t say so.” He smirks at her, “Kinda has a nice ring to it.”

“Right?” Ellie replies brightly, and the look on her face makes Joel feel like there was never anything wrong in the first place. He pauses on her smile, one rising to his lips at the sight. That’s my girl. 

After a moment of trying to memorize that smile, he sighs deeply, then pats her leg. “Alright, kiddo. Time for bed.”

“Yes, sir.” She replies, a smirk on her lips. He smirks back, rolling his eyes. 

A smile sticks to his lips as he walks back to his bedroom, relief flowing through him, and this time, after writing I love you on a sticky note to stick on your pillow, it’s not so hard to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. 

He did something, something a father does. He did right by her. Like he used to do right by Sarah. 

—

That relief didn’t even last to the morning. Instead, doubt ripped at him. Fear that he’d stepped too far, telling her that she’d hurt him. It’d been hard to meet her eyes all day, afraid to see guilt in them, but she was out and about all day anyway, avoiding him, he assumed. 

He can’t stand the thought of losing you or Ellie, but isn’t he starting to already, even if it’s just in his head? He doesn’t feel anywhere near as close to either of you as he once did. Though you still have good times together, though there’s still plenty of love, and you’re still all very much a family, he feels like he’s drifting farther and farther away from it. Like he’s starting to just be looking in through a window, putting on a mask.

More than anything, he wants to keep his family. Desperately, he wants the closeness, the unity, the love. The family. Not just the household, the family. 

He loves the two of you like he’s loved no one else, not quite like this. With the world the way it is, it’s a different breed of sacrifice than for the one he had before. And he needs the two of you to know that, how much he loves you. But he wants to feel loved, too.

With that last realization, something snaps inside Joel. 

I want to feel loved, too. He almost whispers the thought out loud, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as the tears slip out. Though he’s alone in his room, both you and Ellie are home, and he can’t let himself get caught crying. He sniffles and looks back up, staring into the dark of the night through the window, but it only reminds him of how alone he feels, fueling more tears. It almost startles him, and he shut his eyes quickly—he’s still not a cryer. He must not have realized just how much he was hurting until now, recognizing that he doesn’t feel nearly as loved as he loves. 

You deserve to feel loved, comes a ghostly voice in his head, and it sounds like Sarah, and then he sees her, peering up at him like he should know this, because there’s her face looking at him with those big brown eyes and that light smile and all the love in it, and he clenches his teeth and tightens his body, quieting his shaking sobs. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out with a hiccup. “Get your shit together.” And he does try, taking a deep breath and looking at the ceiling, but the tears keep coming, beading at his chin. 

Weakness. That’s what’s pouring from his eyes. He was weak, and that’s why Sarah died. He was weak, and that’s why Ellie ended up unconscious in that hospital in the first place. 

Too deaf and too slow. 

Even when he was two decades younger, he failed. 

All he does is let them down. 

And look at him now, crying, because he can’t, he can’t tell you the truth, because he’s a coward, and he’s weak. 

“Fuck,” heaves out of him as he presses the heels of his hands in his eyes, until it hurts, until he’s seeing stars, and his teeth hurt from the clench of his jaw. 

He deserves it. But he’s still hurting them. Everything he does is wrong, even when every instinct in him says it’s right. 

I let you down, I let you down, he tells Sarah, he tells Tommy, he tells Ellie, he tells you. 

That’s who he is. At his core, he’s a disappointment. No matter how hard he tries—

“Hey,” he hears you at the door, and quickly tries to compose himself, almost slapping his face to wipe the wetness off of it with a quick sniffle. “Hey,” he responds, glancing at you, then planting his gaze on the floor, heart starting to race, being caught red handed again. Immediately, you’re at his side on the bed, but he keeps his gaze turned away, trying but failing to be inconspicuous. But your presence alone in the moment is enough to sprout more tears from his eyes, not from guilt but just from that thing you do to him, making him feel safe enough to be honest, vulnerable. To cry. And then your thumb is on his cheek, brushing the tears away. He clears his throat, still turning away, but he knows he can’t hide now.

“What’s wrong?” Concern drips from your gentle voice, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Nothin’, I’m alright.” He clears his throat again, though shame starts to boil him, from the crying, and now the lying.

“No, you’re not.”

He sighs through his nose.

“You’re a shit lair.” You try to jest, but it’s just another knife in his chest. Back in the most gentle of tones, you sound almost like you’re begging, “Joel, tell me.”

He swallows thickly, eyes still on the floor. “I don’t know, it’s just, uh,” he tries to clear his throat again, but his face falls, brow drawing up as more tears streak his cheeks. 

“Joel, Joel,” you reply instantly, pulling his face to meet your eyes, and he watches your face fall like a ball of lead when you see his pain, then begging him in a whisper, “please, tell me what’s going on.” 

It pushes the confession out of him. “I—I don’t wanna make you feel bad, but I just, I just,” he huffs a sigh, “I just feel like the three of us, aren’t as close as we used to be. With—with Ellie, I know that we were on the road, so, we kinda had to be, and with you, ya know… I don’t know. Things have just, changed, and uh,” his voice breaks, but he tries to regain control with a shaky breath, turning his gaze to the floor. “Jackson is a good place, for Ellie, and for you, for all of us, and you and Ellie are close, and that’s good, it’s good. I don’t wanna be ungrateful, I don’t—” you, sensing his back turning on his own feelings, urge him again, voice gentle as a petal, “Joel, tell me.”

He pauses, looking back at you, then confesses, “I just feel like I’m, not who I used to be, to you two.”

You’re visibly taken aback, brow drawing up. “What do you mean?” You nearly whisper. 

He closes his eyes, lip starting to wobble. “E—Ellie talks to you, and that’s good,” he nods, “it’s good, it’s, great, but uh… she doesn't talk to me like that, and uh, I used t’, I used to have… those conversations, with Sarah” Joel’s head drops as soon as her name leaves his lips, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him immediately to your chest. His heavy hand slides up your side, holding you halfheartedly. There’s the sorrow and shame and pain, but feeling your body against his offers some comfort. It’s followed closely by more sorrow, now allowed, and the words continue to fall out. “An’ uh, you an’—an’ I, I dunno, it’s just, changed, an’, like I said, it’s good you’re close to Ellie, it’s my favorite thing to see, but, but I—”

Before he can finish, you bring him to face you again, cupping his cheeks with your thumbs brushing over the wet streaks, eyes full of sincerity. “I love you.” 

Joel closes his eyes, nodding again, leaning into your touch. “I know, I know you do.” He looks at you again, “An’ I love you, too, an’ I need you to know that, an’ that’s why I, I haven’t said anythin’, but I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he shakes his head, “I—” he stops himself abruptly, sighing deeply and shaking his head again. “Nevermind. Forget it. I’m bein’ a child.” Joel stands up, on his way to retreating straight through the front door and into the cold night, but your grip on his arm surprises him. 

“Joel.” When he looks at you, you pause, expression dripping with sympathy, but the first emotion that comes out of him is disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” He answers immediately, pulling his arm away and looking at the ground. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Doesn’t even fuckin’ matter. It’s nothin’. Just… lost my… composure. It’s fine. It’s nothin’.” He goes to leave again, but is caught just the same, this time you coming to your feet to pull his arm. 

“No, it is not, Joel. You don’t get like this if it’s nothing.” You tug his arm again, trying to take his attention. When he looks at you again, he pauses at the pleading in your eyes. “Joel.” You whisper, “Tell me.”

He swallows thickly, and reluctantly comes back to sit on the bed. 

It’s another sharp battle in his mind as he does, the familiar self hatred, but now there’s the guilt of shutting down with you. There have been many conversations, and a promise made. He can’t break it. He can’t break your trust again. So, he speaks, though the words feel thorny in his throat. “I love you. I love seein’ you happy. More than anythin’ I love seein’ you and Ellie happy. You two are everythin’ to me. I want you, always. Life would be nothin’ without you, and without Ellie, and I jus’—I jus’ want you two to be happy,” his voice breaks again, “and that’s why I—I didn’t want to say anythin’, I don’t want to ruin your fun, y—you can joke around, I want you to, even if it’s at my expense I—I just kinda wish I was… included.” Pain lilts his last word. Suddenly feeling childish again, he drops his head. “I shouldn’t be whinin’.” He shakes his head. 

“Joel—”

“You’re right, anyway, I’m old, an’ fuckin’ sensitive,” the sourness of the word is obvious in his voice and on his face, “I’m weak an’ everythin’ you two say is true, I,”

“Joel—”

“It’s true, and I shouldn’t be gettin’ this worked up about jus’ some jokes, I’ve just gotten fuckin’ soft,”

“Joel—”

“I’ve jus’ been lettin’ myself go, I guess, I fuckin’ deserve it, shit, I deserve much worse, for all the shit I’ve done,”

“Joel.” Your forceful tone breaks him out of his rant. “No. You don’t, and I’m sorry—”

He hangs his head, “No, I—”

“Joel.” You move his head to look at you again, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and I should have—you’re not weak, and you don’t deserve us making fun of you. I just didn’t see it, and that’s my fault, we were being mean,” Joel tries to protest, but you speak over him, “we were, you’re just so damn good at hiding how you feel, and I just wasn’t paying attention. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be giving you such a hard time all the time. And that is not what I meant by saying you’re sensitive. That is not a bad thing, Joel.” You sigh, looking into his eyes with yours full of love. “Sensitive doesn't mean weak. It’s humanity. I love that you can be soft. And that’s not a small ask. You are not a bad person. With what the world is now, there are plenty of people who have done much worse. Joel, you still have a heart, and it’s full, and you’re giving, you’re self sacrificing, Jesus, Joel, you’ll do anything for people you love. And yeah, it gets messy, but it’s love. You have been through so much. But you still have your heart. And I love it more than anything, Joel. More than anything. I love you,” you pause to kiss his forehead, “I love you to pieces, Joel, I adore you, and I want you to know that. And I haven’t been showing that. And that’s my fault. None of this is on you, love.”

“I just want you two to be happy…” Joel whispers, looking into your eyes.

“We want you to be happy, too.”

“I just don’t wanna ruin your fun—”

Ellie’s voice interrupts, “We want you to have fun, too, Joel.” You both snap your heads to her standing in the doorway, looking almost small, fingers brushing the edge of the door she’s cracked open. 

“Ellie…” Joel hangs his head, voice dripping with shame. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She comes almost charging in, sitting at Joel’s other side to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it immediately, turning to wrap his arms right back around her. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and he holds her tighter, sighing shakily. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She says, muffled into his shoulder. Then, she whispers, “I just didn’t know. Thought you just knew that you were the shit.” This gets a small chuckle out of him, warmth filling his chest as he holds onto her, her small arms wrapped around his shoulders. She buries her face further into the crook of his neck, and Joel sighs deeply, knowing that Ellie is the most precious thing on this planet. 

After a moment more in the embrace, they pull away slowly. Joel looks at the floor, sighing, and smooths his hand over you and Ellie’s knees. 

“I love you two more than anythin’.”

“And we love you, too.”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“Not enough, though.” You tell him, folding your hand into his and squeezing it. “Like Ellie said, you're the fucking shit.” You smile, though there’s still the upturn between your brows and wetness in your lashes. “And you deserve to be shown that.”

Joel sighs, looking back at the floor. “I don’t want this t’… mess everything’ up, I want you guys to have your fun,”

“Oh, we can’t stop having fun.” Ellie smiles, “But it’s not fun without you.” Joel smiles back with a small chuckle, squeezing her knee. She puts her head on his shoulder and sighs. “We love you, Joel.”

“I know. An’ I love you, too.”

A silence falls, a blanket of calmness, but it feels warmer than ever. Though he broke down in front of both you and Ellie, he’s relieved that he did. Honesty is freeing. It’s all out on the table, and the only thing he got out of it was love. No anger, no shaming, but kindness, care. Love. 

As he sits, a contented smile raises to his lips. He feels the warmth of his family. He sighs. His family.

—

Coming home from his last late night shift of the week, a tired Joel stamps his snowy boots on the mat inside the door, breathing out a relieved sigh. The house has felt warmer ever since the heart-to-heart the other night.

“He’s gonna love it.” Comes your voice from upstairs, raising his curiosity, so he hangs his jacket and starts for the stairs. 

“I hope so.” Is Ellie’s quiet reply, but he can still tell it’s coming from his room. 

When he walks in, you flip your heads around, Ellie’s hands on a frame being hung on the wall across from him. 

“Hey.” He says, confused.

You turn to him with a smile, “Welcome home, Joel. Ellie has a surprise for you.” Ellie attempts to smile, but is obviously shy. She finishes hanging the large frame and steps back, eyes staying on Joel. 

Instantly, he can recognize what it is, and his breath hitches. On the wall is a pencil sketched portrait of him. Almost in shock, he walks closer. The likeness is amazing, but still with the penciled brush of her distinctive style. “Damn, Ellie.” He says quietly, trying to keep composed. “This is amazing, sweetheart.” 

“That’s what I said.” You say, a smile in your voice. “I guess she’s so used to seeing your face so much she’s pretty much memorized it.”

That hits home. 

“Thanks.” Ellie replies, still shy. He glances at her, then pulls her close to his side as he looks back at the drawing, unable to keep his eyes off of it. 

“When did you…”

“It took a few days.”

“Ellie…” tears start to well up in his eyes, so he clears his throat. “Damn.” He sniffles. 

“I’m glad you like it.” She replies, face squished against him with her arms wrapped around his middle. 

“I love, baby girl, I love it. I love it.” He kisses her head, squeezing her tighter. After another moment of staring at the piece, he looks down at her, met with a smile, and he chuckles at the remaining shyness, tickled at the idea that she should be anything other than extremely pleased with herself. This little girl is talented. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She replies, smile widening. 

He looks back at you then, at the smile on your face, pride in Ellie, adoration at the moment he’s sharing with her. “C’mere.” He says, offering his other arm out, and you oblige almost with haste, laying your head on his shoulder with his arm around your waist. 

“It really is amazing, Ellie.” You tell her. 

“Took me a few days, and a lot of erasing, and swearing, but I think it turned out alright.”

“Alright,” Joel chuckles, “Ellie, I—” when his eyes find the ghosted outline of that scar hidden in his hairline, he can’t finish his sentence, the start of a sob catching in his throat. He sniffles and sighs, rubbing her arm. “Damn. Means the world to me, Ellie.”

“Well, you mean the world to me.”

He looks down at her again, but all she does is press her cheek into his side. He half chuckles, half sniffles again, chest full to the brim with gratitude and joy and love. The feeling of being loved. 

You both love him, and he knows it, he does, but it’s been foggy. But this gift from Ellie, knowing how hard she worked on it, and that she didn’t even need a reference, she just knows his face, is just something else. 

He can get in his head about things, you’ve helped him to realize that, but he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of getting out of it. 

But this does. He sees his graphite reflection, coming from Ellie’s loving little hands. He’s important. He means something. His purpose and meaning is love, it’s family, it’s you and Ellie and Tommy. 

And everything everyone has done to try to help him see it. Tommy’s urging, Maria’s wisdom, your care and concern, and Ellie’s work. 

Reflecting on it, the love becomes more and more clear. 

All the smiles he sees from you Ellie, her first impulse still to laze on him in the couch, the touches and kisses from you as natural as the air itself. Tommy, able to read him like a book, nearly begging him to stand up for himself, because Tommy thinks he deserves better. Maria stepping in, not to scold, but to empathize. Your immediate amends, the tugging of his arm. Pulled in by the ones he loves every day. 

Whether he thinks he deserves it or not, the most important people do. And he has it. It would be foolish to push it away. And he just doesn’t need to anymore. He has his home here. And he wants it more than anything. And he’s earned it. So he’ll take it. In Jackson, what else is there to do but live in this love?

In his graphite reflection, he sees the love that belongs to him, and feels the warmth of it at his sides. 

[angelicabunny]

Below the Table.

requested: yes!!

summary: y/n has to find a fake boyfriend who will convince her family during their fancy dinner, little do they know what’s going on below the table.

warnings: smut, fake dating trope, matt sturniolo x reader.

word count: 1,498!! (a little longer than usual)

“and you won’t believe what i said next!” i cried out to the triplets, they all stared at me while sitting on the edge of their lounge chairs.

“cmon, tell us already!” chris giggled

“you’re killing us!” nick added.

i finally calmed down my laughter and got the words out “i told them i had a boyfriend! so now i have to find one before tonight!” i cried, burring my face into my hands while still giggling.

i looked over to matt, his face an unusual shade of pink.

“you’re fuckin’ with us,” said nick while his jaw was still hanging past his knees, “you haven’t had one since freshman year!”

“i know! i know, i’m just so sick of them teasing me about it” i replied.

“well y/n, you just created yourself a shitty night!” giggled chris while getting up. i rolled my eyes teasingly, matt still sitting quietly in the corner.

“matt did you hear what y/n just said!” wheezed nick while punching his arm, bringing him back to life.

“oh, um yea” he said quietly, looking straight back down at his phone.

“oh my god. y/n, i’ve found your date for tonight.” nick said while holding matt’s shoulders and giving him a shake, “he’s perfect for you, look how cute he is!” he said while jokingly holding matt’s face.

"what, no way, i don't want to drag poor matt into my family drama" i said while staring at matt who now had an innocent smile on his face.

"i don't mind y/n, plus it will give me an excuse to get out of the house." he said eagerly while giving me a small smirk.

"are you sure matt, this means so much you don't understand!" i squealed while getting up to join him and nick. "but no funny business," i said firmly, "this is just to help me convince my family i'm not some loner."

"whatever you say princess." matt said in a joking tone, nick giggling next to him. i couldn't help but laugh with them. "i'll see you at seven."

i finally made it back to my apartment to get ready for dinner. i stood in front of my mirror in my favourite tight black dress, admiring my curves while clipping on my earrings when suddenly the doorbell rang, matt. i rushed over to the door, my heels tapping along the floor. i opened the door for him while still trying to fix my earrings.

“hey i’ll be out in a sec.” i said while focusing on grabbing my handbag and phone.

“holy shit,” matt whispered, taking in my body with his eyes, “why have i never seen you dressed like this before.” he added.

“ew matt, don’t be weird. remember this is just for tonight buddy.” i said bluntly while stepping out the door, locking it behind me. we made our way to the elevator, matt leading me by resting his hand just above my ass.

“matt get your hand off me.” i said in a jokey tone.

“hey don’t get mad at me im just trying to get into the role.” he replied while the elevator door shut behind us. i couldn’t help but laugh as his lips curled into his perfect smile.

the entrance of the restaurant was crowded with people, i could feel my nerves bubbling in my stomach. we made our way over to the large table, my family shining radiant smiles in our direction.

“oh honey!” my mother said happily while pulling me into a hug “why have you been hiding this handsome man from us?” she questioned while waving a hand at matt, his smile bigger than ever.

“it’s so nice to meet you mrs y/l/n.” matt said, his voice clear and sweet.

we made our way around the table, greeting all my family members who were more than excited to finally meet my ‘boyfriend’. matt pulled my chair out, waiting for me to sit before he did.

“such a gentleman.” i teased, his ocean eyes beaming while being hidden by his dark hair.

about an hour had passed and we all had finished our meals, the rest of my family chatting now.

the restaurant was packed tonight, chatter filling the atmosphere, i could feel my clammy palms lay in my lap while my leg bounced trying to distract myself. matt gave me a worried look before placing his rough hand onto my thigh, giving me a reassuring rub with his thumb.

“it’s okay, don’t stress.” he mouthed. i gave him a warm smile before placing my hand on top of his.

i felt his hand sneaking further up my dress, my face burning up as he brushed my now throbbing clit through my laced panties. my legs bucking below the table, a small smirk painting his face as he continued to tease me. i shot him a look before being interrupted by one of my family members.

“are we ready for the bill lovebirds?” my father said with a smile on his face, unaware of what was happening below the table.

“yes sir.” matt replied while still teasing me. i felt my breathing pick up, my core begging for release.

“alright then, it was lovely meeting you matthew, you two have an amazing night.” my parents said happily.

“are you serious matt?!” i said jokingly while watching him grip the steering wheel of the van.

“just part of my role princess.” he replied with a grin on his face.

his ring clad hands looking perfect as he pulled into the parking lot, the headlights beaming. “want me to walk you up?” he questioned. i nodded happily in response. i made my way over to the elevator, feeling his presence behind me as we got in.

“you look beautiful tonight y/n/n.” he said as the elevator dinged. a blush taking over my cheeks.

“we don’t have to pretend any more matt nobody’s around.” i joked in response while jamming the keys into my door, matt still behind me as i stepped inside.

his deep eyes meeting mine, as he unbuttoned his black tux. his hair sitting perfectly above his eyes as they take me in.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore y/n.” he said with a raspy voice making his way closer to me.

“what do you mean by that matty?” i said knowing full well what he meant, my core begging for him.

his body inches away from mine as he grabbed my hips, arching me into him, my breathing hitched at the sudden friction of his bulge pushing against me. “you know exactly what i mean, stop being such a tease.” he whispered into my ear before kissing my neck. a quiet moan slipping past my lips. before i could even respond he gripped me by my ass and carried me to my room. placing me gently on the bed not daring to break our kiss.

he pulled away roughly, “you’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked while running a thumb over my bottom lip.

“more than okay.” i said while out of breath and trying to remove my dress.

he smiled while leaving a kiss down my neck, helping me take off my dress. my red bra and matching panties exposed. his eyes burned holes into my skin as be took me in. “god you’re gorgeous.” he said rushing to undo his belt, throwing it to the floor before removing every last bit of clothing.

his cock now in his hand, tip red and drooling with precum. his finger hooked around my soaked panties before pulling them to the side. his tip now teasing my swollen clit. before i could get a word out he had bottomed out inside me hitting places i’ve never felt before.

“oh god matt!” i whimpered while gripping the sheets for support.

my pleas only driving him more, his pace picking up as the most angelic moans left his mouth. his silky hair bouncing with every thrust.

the familiar knot was growing tighter in my core as i clawed into his back. “i’m so fucking close matt.” i managed to say in between moans of pleasure.

his thrusts growing sloppier as he gripped my breast, hard enough to bruise, pornographic moans spilling from my lips as a wave of pleasure took over my body.

my tight walls now clamping down onto his veined cock, his head flying back in pleasure. he gave three hard thrusts leaving me seeing stars before filling me with long, warm ropes of thick cum.

“o-oh god.” he whimpered while falling on top of me, his arms still flexing as he held most of his weight up.

my breathing was still heavy as he lied next to me on his side, his arm propping up his head while he traced circles with his finger tips over my smooth skin.

“what happened to no funny business?” he teased while giggling.

i jokingly pushed him away, but before i could give him a response, he moved his face closer to mine leaving a soft kiss on my lips before brushing the hairs out of my face.

this was so rushed i’m so sorry 😓

i also hate the ending, but i hope you all enjoy 😘😘

[maybeijustwanttobeme]

A Broken Nose

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Female!Reader

Warning: mention of pregnancy and I think that's it.

Summary: Aemond and Y/N's son has an accident playing with other kids.

Notes: English is not my first language.

Y/N heard in the distance the steps of her husband more hasty than usual. As soon as he entered the room, the anger that boiled in his chest would be unleashed. Y/N knew she could calm Aemond, but when it came to his little dragon, there was no way of that happening.  

She wanted to break the nose of all the children in that yard, but she preferred to give comfort and support to her son, Aenar, before seeing heads roll. Her husband would give her the heads she wanted. 

Despite being aware that her husband would enter any second through the door, she still jumped a little at the roar. The Maester did not flinch; he was focused on Aenar’s suture. 

They were visiting the North to solidify their alliance. In theory, Aegon had to have made this visit, but due to his lack of responsibility, his mother and grandsire had decided that Aemond was the one who would have to solidify that alliance. 

Aemond didn't want to leave his family for so long. Travelling alone with Vhagar was much faster, but he decided to spend some time away from the capital with his family. Also, Y/N’s curiosity to visit the North.

He never thought his son would be hurt. 

-What happened? - he knelt next to Aenar. The little cub let go of his mother’s hand to squeeze his father’s. 

-Apparently, the northern children play rough. - Aemond sought to use a calm tone to keep Aenar calm. Y/N settled on the other side to hold his other hand.

They both smiled at their son. Aenar didn't have serious injuries, just a cut on his forehead and a broken nose. The healings did not take long, and the Maester left the room they had in Winterfell. They called one of the maids who accompanied them on the journey, so Aenar could take a hot bath. 

-In a moment, I will be with you, my little lion - Y/N squatted down. He did not look in pain. 

-Mother, I am a dragon - he chuckled. 

-Don't tell your father, but you are my little lion and more with that cute nose of yours - she told him as she took his little face in her hands and joined their foreheads. 

It was a little joke between Y/N and Aemond since she was pregnant. Will it be a dragon or a lion? Physically there was no doubt; he was a Targaryen, but Y/N saw so many qualities of Aemond in Aenar, and Aemond saw all that he loved about Y/N in his son. 

It could be considered a draw. Aenar was the perfect mix of his parents, apart from the physical, although he possessed Y/N’s smile. 

Aemond came over to give him a slight squeeze on the cheek and smile at him. The boy came out with the maid closing the door. 

-What happened? - his voice was filled with fury. 

-They were playing with wooden swords, and everything got out of control. It seems that the children of the North do not play to fight but fight. Aenar told me that Rickon stumbled, and with the handle of the sword, he hit him in the nose and, with the broken point of the sword opened his forehead. It was genuinely an accident. The children ran for help when they saw blood. - Her husband stared at her and was elated. Y/N was sure he remembered the night he lost his eye. 

-Have they apologized? - he asked in a dangerous tone. 

-More than once, both the children and Lady Stark. - Y/N approached her husband to cup his face just like her son a few minutes ago. 

-Aemond, I know you want heads to roll, and so do I. Whether it was an accident or not, our little cub was hurt, but it was an accident, my love. - her husband began to relax under her touch. 

-What heads do you want rolling?

-Those of the North, I don’t understand why children play so rough. 

- I can give you Winterfell if you ask me.- Y/N knew that Aemond wasn’t playing. 

-As much as I would love that it won’t be necessary, my love. It was an accident. - both stayed a few seconds in silence 

- If Aenar doesn’t get an apology from Cregan, I want his head. - she confessed. Aemond nodded as he hugged his wife. 

-I don’t expect that either. 

During dinner, Cregan Stark not only apologized publicly but offered one of his horses to Aenar. Cregan was not a fool. He knew that Aemond not only expected but would demand an apology. He also knew he could no longer increase the rivalry between the Lannisters and the Starks. 

-I know it’s not the same as having a dragon, but Northern horses are the best horses you can find in the Seven Kingdoms.- Aemond and Y/N thanked the Starks for their gesture and goodwill. 

Before going to sleep, Aemond went to Aenar’s room. He checked that his son was not cold. He sat on the bed next to him and tucked him into the bed.  

-Mother won’t be able to tell me I’m a lion, now I’m going to look more like you with my scar.- he said. Aemond smiled a little. 

-Do you want to look like me?

-Yes! You ride Vhagar, and you're the best swordsman of all the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.- Aemond was moved by his son’s words. He never wanted to be like his father. He could even say that he never had one. Aemond hugged Aenar and kissed his head. He couldn’t let his son go through what he did. 

-Well, you’re always going to be a dragon, as much as a lion. The important thing is that you know when it’s time to be a lion and when to be a dragon. 

-When would it be best to be a lion? 

-Your mother always knows what to say and ...

-She gives the best hugs.- Aenar interrupted with enthusiasm. 

-You don’t like my hugs? - Aemond smiled and hugged him trying to prove a point he knew was lost. He knew very well the sweet touch his wife had.

-Yes, but mother sings to me and strokes my hair. 

-I know, my little dragon. Time to sleep. - Aemond accommodated his son in bed and went to sit by the fireplace. 

He was fine, he thought. 

Y/N entered his son's chambers. She discovered her husband was lost in his thoughts. 

Y/N stands beside her husband as she stroke his hair and holds his hand. 

-Everything is fine. He is fine. - she reassured. 

-I know how it feels when your father not only doesn’t defend you but blames you for an accident. I can’t let him have this grudge I have against my father. - he paused for seconds.- I’d rather have known he hated me than ignore me. He let him hurt his son and did nothing. I was only the second child of the second marriage. It doesn’t matter what I did; it was never enough. 

Y/N knew Aemond’s contempt for his father. No matter what Aemond achieved, Visery never cared. The only thing Aemond could do to gain his attention was to insult Rhaynera or his bastards. 

-His only child was Rhaynera. Even though she left him and we were there the whole time. - Y/N kissed his hand and squatted in front of him. 

-Aemond, your father got sick when you were very young; we’ll never know what kind of father he would have been if he had been healthy. - with her free hand, she caressed his face. - But you don’t need to be her, and I hate your father for making you feel inferior. The father you are does not reflect anything that was yours. Aenar adores you. You were willing to burn Winterfell for him. 

-I’d do anything for him and you. 

-We know. 

-I don’t know if he knows 

-Of course, he knows. When he arrived after the accident, he asked for you. When I told him I had already sent you, he relaxed, he knew his father was coming and everything was going to be fine. - Aemond guided her to sit on his lap. 

-I’d burn the Seven Kingdoms for you.

-We know.- she gave him a sweet kiss.  

Before leaving for their room in Winterfell, they gave the last glimpse of the night to Aenar. Aemond hugged his wife from behind. Y/N led her hands to her belly. 

-We should give him a brother.- Aemond smiled.

-A great idea, my lioness. - he caressed her belly. He remembered four years ago when Aenor was safe from any danger in his mother’s womb. 

-There will be another cub that confirms that you exceed in being a father. 

- A little dragon.- he corrected her. 

-No, we already have our dragon. We need the lion. - Aemond smiled and kissed his beloved wife. 

He was eager to become a father again.

[electronix-arts]

i have the urge to ramble so why not ramble about murder drones

i have many fears over episode 8, my biggest one being is that everyone is going to fucking die, and since im now considered the khan guy, why not talk about him (THIS IS SO LONG HOLY FUCKING SHIT)

ok so funnily enough, im prepared if he does drop dead in ep 8. people have teased me going “oh lol what if khan dies in ep 8” but little do you all know ive been prepared since ep 7 dropped, my wife has improved so much he’s bound to be sniped by liam. i’d be upset as hell and act like a wife who lost her husband at sea but i would not be too surprised if he is killed off

before it was confirmed ep 8 is the series finale, i was a s2 believer and i held onto hope that they wouldn’t kill khan because it’d make his character feel worthless. you see this man improve so much to be a better father to uzi and grow a pair to actually do something; to me, him dying would have made all of that useless, the hypothetical season 2 could have grown his character more if he lived, hell, maybe even show flashbacks of him during his ‘kill all humans’ phase. ep 7 shows khan has nowhere to go but up (or go insane, like the ep 8 teaser showed us)

but since season 2 is not real, i have to accept the fact that yeah, khan might die. so instead of being upset over that, why not speculate how he’ll fuckin die even though him being in the teaser looking batshit insane makes me think he’ll be a survivor. look at him. he will live off of pure adrenaline. anyways.

it’d 100% be a sacrifice, his apology for everything he’s done (which i fucking HATE i wanted him to grow more to become more redeemable to others not [death = hooray your sins are mostly forgiven] but i just gotta suck it up for now)

it’d definitely be for uzi or nori, make sense if he sacrificed himself for both of them [“Turns out, I’m not who either of you needed”] buuut i think it’d be more uzi focused. he was the one who raised her for the entirety of her life, actually tried to become better and changed his main focus to her and tried to help whenever he could after that, he would take a hypothetical bullet for her. it could even parallel to pilot when he left her for dead, now he’s the one dying and telling uzi to leave him so she can save herself and the others (it could even reference heartbeat where she thought he actually died, i don’t know how they’d do it, but yeah. i like that scene in heartbeat, i enjoy characters i love oh so much in severe pain.)

while i like this a lot, i would want khan to sacrifice himself for someone else more than his own wife and daughter. shocking, i know. i make my entire personality based off these idiots why wouldn’t i want a doorman family reuni-

n. if khan dies in ep 8, i want him to die sacrificing himself for n. i want n to be in horror at what has happened as khan is slowly dying in front of him, basically giving n his blessing to date uzi even though the entire planet is doomed.

it parallels nori’s disapproval of the relationship, shows that khan’s views on the dds (mainly n) have changed [killing machine -> bad influence on uzi -> someone who genuinely cares for her, someone who she needed] -and i guess nicely ties up the gift that is his redemption arc.

it makes sense for him to give said blessing, he’s seen how close uzi has gotten with n as well I’m pretty sure when he reunites with nori (plsplspls) after they calm down she’s definitely gonna be like “YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER “HANG OUT” WITH THE THINGS YOU SAW KILL ME” so that’d be fresh on his mind when he hypothetically drops dead.

also i’d feel like him sacrificing himself for uzi is like. too perfect or easily guessable, maybe they could hint “oh yeah khan’s def gonna die to save uzi & nori” when haha sike he’s dying to save the future son-in-law (if there is a future)

anyways that’s it. im bad at wrapping up things so here is what i call my conclusion. if you actually read this i love you so much you will be in my will

[charmedreincarnation]

Hello! How are you? I am very good for now. because after trying for over a year I switched to void state last night very easily! it was an incredibly amazing experience for me. I stumbled upon your account on tumblr a few days ago, I saw a lot of people have succeeded with the method you suggested! I felt so happy for them!

Now I will tell my own success story.

I used to be so obsessed with it that I was just procrastinating and "trying" to get into the void when I had so much work to do whenever I had free time.

Throughout this process, I always thought that I would not succeed and always went back to the beginning. I was very bad with everyone around me, I was constantly fighting and exposed to violence. In short, I was experiencing hell on this earth.

Months passed and I decided to focus on my life a little bit. I tried to think positively and convince myself how easy it was for me to manifest. But there was one very important thing that I forgot, all the evil forces in this hell were coming only on me, only me.

I spent the whole of last year and the first months of this year like a living dead...

But in these last few days, I have made a decision that will radically change my life. Before, I tried every method to enter void constantly, but something was not going well every time. So I decided that it would be easier and more useful to just assume that I woke up there, rather than making dozens of efforts to enter void 2 days ago.

THE DAY I FINALLY ENTERED THE VOID CONSCIOUSLY!

I didn't listen to the subliminal, I just did a 20-minute meditation, my wish to revisit life in more detail. At the end of the meditation, I said only one affirmation: I will wake up in void tonight.

I wasn't tired and very sleepy that night (these are usually what people think is necessary for a void).I just lay on my bed in my usual position and affirmed that I would wake up in void at night. After that I already went straight to sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night, I didn't move. The sounds were so muffled, it's like you're listening to a song through a broken earpiece, that's how I heard it. I stayed like that for a few minutes, then the sounds suddenly stopped and I felt myself being pulled into the darkness. My heart was beating so fast, so I focused on calming myself. I couldn't feel my body anymore, as if someone was separating my soul from my body and floating it in a vacuum of space. That's when I realized that I really succeeded! And I calmed down for a while and then said my affirmations. I didn't make a special list, so I said it all one by one.

My manifests:

The face and body I dreamed of down to the smallest detail

My desired name, surname(i have two names in different languages)

My dream room and house with all the items on my Pinterest board(There were almost 50K pins on the board I mentioned...)

I overhauled my father as someone else entirely. With his nationality, zodiac sign, appearance, name.(I also added that he is a person who gets along perfectly with his 4 children and his wife!)

I made my mother younger in appearance, not in age, I also wished her a happy and peaceful life in every way.

As for our financial situation, my father is an extraordinarily wealthy businessman, we own the largest house and the most luxurious car in my city. We also have 4 modern apartments and 1 huge villa in another city! It does not end with these, we also have houses in America, France, England!

I also manifested new phone and other electronic gadgets.

We are 4 siblings in the family and we all get along very well, no hurtful words and no violence!

I have a private room for my unfinished clothes in my room and a very nice bathroom adjacent to my room!

I also manifested success in the lessons: no matter how long the paragraph is, it stays in my mind only once I read it and I never forget it! I do not have a single error in all the tests I have solved.

We have a total of 4 pets including 2 cats and a puppy and a husky dog. Our garden is huge, with a big swing, a covered area to sit in in the winter, and lots of lavender flowers, white roses!

By the way, I manifested that I have lived this life from the beginning, so our house is full of memories we have accumulated with my siblings and parents since childhood, our childhood photos everywhere, emotional diaries my mother wrote when she was pregnant.

I also manifested new friends to myself: one of them is famous (keep this part private lol), I wished to meet him since childhood. Apart from her, I also have a male friend who is our family friend and my best friend who lives with us.

That's all I wanted, I left everything else to my subconscious and my last sentence before leaving the void was "I will open my eyes to the life I dreamed of".

Finally, when I came out of the void, I heard my brother's voice, scolding me for turning off the air conditioner in my room and leaving it on until morning, and saying that he would be very upset if I got sick. (it did indeed come true more perfectly than I had imagined! )

The reason why I wrote my success story and the life I manifested at length is this: most people limit their desires and try to make do with less. Believe me, I was thinking the same way a month ago, thinking that living the life I wanted was unfair to the people in my life. But lately, thanks to what those people did to me, I realized that all this time I had been unfair to myself, not to them. After realizing this, I reminded myself that I only deserved the life of my dreams.

And now that I'm who I should be, I'm pretty happy with it. I can't thank you enough  my dear. The success stories you shared motivated me a lot and helped me take action.

I am so proud of you my love. I absolutely adore revision stories as well as the usage of intention which is my personal favorite method. No method is stronger than your will to have your desires. Thank you so much for sharing your story and I hope you continue to always live your best life <3

[l0vergirlwrites]

our moments ; rick grimes

warnings: mentions of weapons, blood, death, swearing, some angst & a sweet slow burn

a few moments with rick throughout the time you’ve known each other that aided your slow burn:

1. early prison days

since you were new the group, it was hard fitting into their little family when you stumbled across them with tyrese & sasha after carl led you through the prison’s catacombs. despite your previous group leaving, going off somewhere else to call home, you stayed because your gut told you to.

you followed their orders & stayed clear of the group to focus on your daily tasks to prove that you’re person of your word until you were allowed to sleep in the same cell block as the rest of them.

one night when you decided to stay up & count the food rations in the main area, you didn’t expect someone to join you.

with a small gaslit lamp, a notebook & half a broken pencil, you were busy looking back & forth between the canned food & your paper until the metal door of the cell block creaked quietly. springing your head up, your body slightly relaxed when you saw the group’s leader begin to approach you.

“what are you doing?” rick asked you, bouncing judith up & down in his arms to calm her fussing.

taking a seat across from you at the circular metal table, you tucked your hair behind your ears & looked back at him. “just some food inventory,” you said looking around at the cans & bags of grain still left from the group’s last run.

“glenn mentioned that maggie & him were planning to do a run tomorrow, so i thought an updated inventory list would be helpful” your kind explanation made rick give you a tiny smile in approval.

“that’s nice of ya to do, thanks” he said while looking back between you & his daughter. the grip she had on his thumb made your heart swell. it was nice to see something full of love in a world where death crept everywhere.

“could i ask you something?”.

humming in response, rick lowered judith to his chest & focused on you.

“why have you kept me around?” the question lingered in the air.

scratching his chin, rick looked back at you & tilted his head a little, almost like he was analyzing you.

“you’ve proven yourself,” rick started. “you’ve shown your loyalty, you’ve gotten along with everyone & followed through with orders… & you’re pretty good with a gun & bow” he listed off a few reasons, seeing you grow a shy smile on your face.

it felt nice to know he approved you.

“the things you do—like staying up to do something that’ll help others tomorrow—is the kind of thing we need more of… sets a good example, shows you’re worth it” his voice grew more sincere as he spoke.

this was the first time you both have had a one-on-one conversation. it was nice.

“i was unsure about you…” he noted, your eyes flashing with worry for a moment.

“—but you’ve proven me wrong so far… keep doing that” giving you an encouraging boost of morale, he rose from his seat once he noticed judith getting sleepy, heading towards the metal door to leave you to it.

“thank you rick,” you called out softly, making him pause his movements. “really, thank you”

“you’re welcome… goodnight” he said looking back at you.

the gaze you both held ignited a small warm feeling. you both felt it, but ignored it.

“goodnight” you waved him off, sighing contently before getting back to your ration notes.

2. post prison

after the prison fell, you wound up alone & fearful in the woods. with the few items you had in your emergency bag, you were able to survive for a few days by sleeping in the high trees, tying your body to large branches so you wouldn’t fall.

but you were tired, going hungry, & your injuries were going to get worse if you didn’t find more medical supplies soon.

it was hard for you to get proper sleep when the friendships you’ve made with rick & the group keep you up at night. did they make it out? are any of them hurt? are they alone too?

the questions were endless.

but instead of wallowing, you knew you had to keep going. by using the tracking tricks daryl had taught you a few times when going on runs, you were hopefully making progress in tracking a decently fresh pair of boots that led to an abandoned neighborhood. you weren’t able to tell if they belonged to anyone you knew, but your gut was telling you to follow them.

the neighborhood was silent, alike many other ghost towns you’ve came across since the world fell apart, but it gave you a hopeful feeling as you pushed yourself to search the houses for anything, or anyone. old books, tvs, clothes, dead bodies, children’s toys—all covered by layers of dust, dried blood, flies & debris.

it took you a few houses to find a decently stacked medical kit, which you used to clean a few of your shallow cuts on your arms & cheek from getting bark burn. you also found a few canned goods which gave you some hope, but there was no sign that anyone from the prison had even been in the area yet.

when you reached the middle area of houses along the street, you heard a muffled sound of something falling, intriguing you to look further. slowly making your way up a set of porch steps, knife out & ready to use. you quietly scanned the front windows to see if anything was near the front of the house.

you expected walkers. you didn’t expect rick & carl.

as soon as you saw them, you felt immediate relief wash over you, overwhelming you to the point where you had tears welling in your eyes. so you knocked on the door & waited.

rustling. silence. mumbling. creaking.

the door opened cautiously, & behind it you saw a beaten up rick grimes looking at you with a smile. before either of you could say anything, carl was already rushing into your arms & holding you in a tight embrace, causing you to laugh as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“hi—“

“—how did you find us?!” carl asked into your shoulder.

“i tracked. gut feeling” you sniffled as you held him tighter, your eyes melting into rick’s as his smile grew.

the way he looked at you spoke more than words could.

his blue eyes flashed “i missed you”

& yours flashed back “i missed you too”

after carl let you go & pulled you inside, locking the door, you & rick stood in front of each other for a moment, soft smiles present on your faces.

you were the first to initiate the hug.

“i’m glad you’re okay” you mumbled into his torn shirt, holding him tighter when you felt rick’s arms go around your shoulders.

“right back at ya” he whispered to you, leaning his head on-top of yours until you pulled away, getting a good look at him.

rick was beaten to a pulp with dirt & dried blood on his clothes & skin, along with a partial black eye near his swollen cheek.

“you look—“

“rough” carl says, causing you to turn to him & laugh.

turning back to rick, you pointed to your worn out backpack. “got some stuff to fix that” you smiled, following carl into the kitchen where you told him to sit so you could check him for injuries.

rick followed behind shortly, ghosting in the doorway as he looked at you bearing your own set of injuries, rushing your medical kit items out while carl updated you on what happened since the fall.

the way you treated carl with such care made rick feel that small warm feeling again. his gut was trying to telling him something. but he hasn’t pieced it together yet. & somehow, neither have you.

3. pre-terminus

“if you fall, i get the last kit-kat!”

“oh you’re so on!”

the train tracks to terminus, a so-called safe haven, were longer than anticipated. the journey was bound to take a couple days. but so far with you, rick & carl, it’s been pleasant.

you tried to keep carl entertained by balancing on the train tracks as rick stayed a head of you both, laughing at the childish energy emitting from your game.

“what’re you guys doing?” rick asked with a smile on his face, walking backwards now as he looked between you & carl with looks of concentration on your faces.

“winning” you replied, hearing carl scoff beside you as a rebuttal.

rick shook his head at both of you, turning around to keep his eyes out for any threats until he heard someone’s feet clash against the gravel.

“oh shit—“

“haha i win!”

turning his heard around again, rick saw you on the gravel with a playful pout on your face while carl was lifting his arms up in victory.

“fair is fair” you said while handing carl the kit-kat bar, smiling softly when you saw how happy he was to have it.

“we can share—“

“carl, you don’t have to—“

���fair is fair! take your half y/n”

taking a half of the kit-kat bar, you thanked the boy & looked towards rick, seeing him motion you to come forward.

once you were beside him, he called carl to come in front so he could keep an eye on him, then he went back to looking at you.

“thank you” rick said, nodding his head towards carl.

“you don’t have to thank me” you nudged his elbow with yours.

as rick looked ahead at his son still balancing on the train tracks, he sighed.

you & carl being friends is not a strange concept—the whole group, including rick, knew the small friendship. you got him comic books with michonne, & he made you origami figures in return. you looked out for him, & he looked out for you.

“you being here… i think it’s helping him cope with… ” you knew who was referring to… it was judith.

“rick,” placing a hand on his shoulder, you squeezed the material of his jacket. “i-i—“

“it’s okay,” he assured, tight lipped smile on his face as he relished your presence.

“i don’t think you should give up on her yet” you told him slowly, seeing him furrow his brows.

“why?” he asked quietly, trying to find any hope within himself to believe that his daughter is still out there, safe from harm.

“gut feeling” you said simply, seeing rick look he wasn’t sure if he should believe you.

“you always go with your gut?” he asked again, looking at you with an unreadable look on his face.

nodding your head, you told him yes. “its what made me stay at the prison… made me find you & carl, so yeah—i go with my gut”

“i might do the same then”

his words made you smile as you gave his shoulder one last squeeze, dropping your hand back into your coat pocket.

the rest of the walk was quiet, besides carl’s random questions you encouraged him to ask so he’d keep himself busy. rick often chimed in too, the three of you walking side by side until the forest welcomed you again.

the warm feeling came back again. it was growing stronger than before. but still, neither of you knew what it meant.

4. post-terminus

terminus was a huge lie. a total shit show. & it left the group feeling worse than the fall of the prison. you had found a small church to crash at, courtesy of gabriel, a priest that none of you could seem to trust much, but you needed shelter.

the group, along with a few new members named abraham, eugene & rosita, all gathered around the alter area under a few candles & ate from some of gabriel’s rations, everyone talking & catching up. it was nice to be reunited with the group of people you’ve come to love, even though not all of them survived.

you sat next to maggie, directly in front of rick, & watched him play with judith as he relished his reunion with his daughter. it made your heart swell with happiness to know your gut feeling was right, that judith was safe with tyrese & carol after all.

she’s been making grabby hands towards you & maggie for a while now, causing rick to laugh before nudging your foot with his.

“ya wanna hold her?” he asked, seeing you nod your head carefully as you scooted closer to rick, hands shaking slightly due to nerves because you’ve never held her before.

everyone continued their conversations, but maggie & glenn stared at you two with knowing looks on their faces because they saw something you & rick haven’t noticed yet.

once you were seated beside rick, your back against the wood of the altar, he slowly passed judith over to you & she immediately grabbed your hair, gently pulling on the strands as you held her in your lap. you talked to her in a hushed voice, smiling as you heard her giggle & point towards rick a few times.

“she likes ya” rick drawled, both of you smiling brightly as judith babbled on.

“y/n,” you looked to rick as he talked, your eyes shining in the amber coloured candle light—it made him feel the warm feeling again.

“yeah?” you questioned when he went silent again, wondering what questions were swirling around in his head.

his brows furrowed again, not in a confused way, but in a concerned one. “you okay?”

his voice was quiet, making it clear he wanted to have a somewhat private moment with you. you weren’t too sure what to say—you haven’t been fine since the world fell apart, hell—no has been. but since you’ve become a member of his group & built friendships with them, you felt good.

“it’s like a double sided coin,” you tried to explain, finding it hard to say your feelings with words.

“i hurt, i mourn, i’m exhausted… i feel far from okay in so many aspects i guess. but, i know i really am okay because the group’s here, you’re here…” the little admission made you let out a carefree smile, one which rick quickly returned & that warm feeling came back again like a magnet, pushing you too closer.

“as long as everyone is okay, then so am i”

your answer ignited a feeling in rick he hasn’t felt in a long time. it almost felt like lo—

“thank you for saving me earlier. that terminus guy was so close to—”

“hey,” he nudged you. “i got you, no need to thank me” rick assured, his tone sounding far from platonic but you brushed past it.

“right back at you” your chest started to getheavy the more you looked at him, making you feel nervous & warm.

comfortable silence took over the two of you until carl took judith from your lap, bringing you back into the groups’ conversations. you were surrounded by friends, but one of the them seemed to have the potential of being more than that.

5. early alexandria

alexandria was too good to be true. children could play outside with no hassle, the homes were more than luxurious, & the place wasn’t crawling with walkers in the walls. there was running water, soap, makeup, clothes, lots of food, & mattresses that weren’t filled with holes or mold.

it was paradise. but it felt almost like a trick.

after the lengthy interview process with deanna & all the orders on weapons, plus townspeople introductions, everyone was finding their own groove on how to adjust.

the first night felt like a shock to the system for everyone, especially due all the time the group spent on the road, having access to luxuries felt too weird. as the group eventually fell asleep, you stayed awake, staring at the ceiling until you couldn’t bear it.

getting up from your sleeping bag & carefully tiptoeing upstairs, you decided to explore the house for a while to escape your troubles. you went through the bedrooms, testing the lights, poking the mattresses & you eventually sat down on one to really test if it was real.

& it was.

the cushiony feel of the mattress felt like heaven against your body, making you lay down fully to really enjoy it. just as you sighed with comfort, you heard the door creak open, causing you to spring up & almost fall off the bed.

“it’s just me” rick said slowly, closing the door when you breathed out of relief.

“sorry, you scared me for a sec” with your hand clutching your heart, you brushed your messy hair behind your ears, like you always do, & patted the spot next to for rick to sit.

“what’re you doing up here?” he asked once he sat on the mattress, leaning his right arm back so he could turn his body towards you.

shrugging your shoulders, you played with the hem on the clean shirt deanna gifted you, “felt like exploring the place a bit”

giving you a tired smile, rick nodded his head, “not because you can’t sleep?”

“haha, no… definitely not” you replied sarcastically, hearing rick chuckle at your words.

rick thought you looked beautiful in this moment, seeing you in a new light. your skin was free from any debris & dirt, your hair was freshly washed & smelt like vanilla, you wore clothes that didn’t have any rips or thousands of patches—you looked more beautiful than he thought you could.

you thought rick looked nice all cleaned up, freshly shaven skin with no stubble in sight, his hair clean & not sticking down onto his forehead, plus his hands were finally dirt & blood free for once. rick looked nice, especially because you’ve never seen him like this before.

“i don’t know how long it’ll take for me to get used to you not having a beard” you said to break the silence, inviting soft laughs to break through you both as rick rubbed over his face again.

“god—i don’t even know if i’m used to it” he groaned with a smile, making your stomach flip in circles.

before you knew it, the space between you both was slowly dissipating; you didn’t realize your knee was touching his.

“you look nice though,” you complimented, eyes focused on the details of his face in the dark. “never seen you like this before… very handsome” rick hummed at your words, eyes raking over your face again before making eye contact.

“you look nice too… real pretty…” he trailed on. rick wasn’t sure what else to say to hide the fact he was at his breaking point. the magnet was pulling him closer, & he couldn’t turn away from it anymore.

you were hoping the lack of bright light helped to mask the way your cheeks were burning hot.

“do you think we can make this place work?” rick asked suddenly, switching the topic to something serious.

nodding your head almost immediately, your hand went onto of his. “i think so. you’ve led us through hell & back—“

shaking his head to make you pause, rick lifted his hand from yours only to grasp it, giving it a small squeeze. “no, not me—us… we… you & me— do you think we can make this place work… together?”

the reframing of his question made you wonder if your heart skipped a few beats.

you stared at him, eyes flashing “do you mean it?”

his flashed back with ease “i do”

looking towards your hand in his, your knee against his knee, the proximity between you two—

“yeah,” you finally answered. “i know we can make this work”

smiling until your ears hurt, you felt rick gave your hand another squeeze as your eyes glossed over, eyes not leaving his blue ones.

same old rick. same old feeling. that’s what it meant all this time.

“gut feeling?” he whispered. this felt right.

“yeah, gut feeling” you whispered back.

he couldn’t handle it any longer, neither could you. so he pulled you closer with his hand on your cheek & kissed you, slow & loving with no rush of what the next day will bring. there is so much pain in the world, but not in this room—not with him in this very moment as everything finally set into place.

rick taught you that home isn’t necessarily a place, it can be a person. & luckily for you both, home is wherever you both are, as long as it’s together.

[ilsolefiesta]

some self-analytic observations based on my natal chart

1. the 9th house Moon & Saturn + Sagittarius IC conjunction with Chiron always make me think that my true happiness and home are elsewhere but here. I'm always dreaming of moving abroad but Saturn... I've never even travelled abroad. hope I make it someday.

2. also about the 9th house Moon. I can't say for sure if this is the reason... maybe I can also add Pisces DSC here. but all my relationships (there have only been two of them, lol) had some... foreign fleur, I guess? despite the fact that there were no actual cultural or mental differences between us, my first boyfriend still was from a different nationality. as for the second one, he was a Sagittarius with experience of living in different countries. well, when is my turn, huh???

3. some people might consider Libra Venus in the 2nd house to be materialistic... WELL, I can say that this is only partly true. perhaps the restrictions of Virgo's placements don't allow me to go crazy with money issues. but to be honest... both of my ex-partners had a better financial status than me. I swear, I didn't choose them for that reason!!!

4. my Taurus Moon (Moon again...) makes me a true foodie. my mood totally depends on whether or not I've eaten. I've had situations where I get mad at someone simply because I'm hungry. I see delicious food as the main source of happiness in my life. and here goes big BUT. my Moon is squared by Uranus, so guess who has eternal dieting periods and eating disorder?

5. my Sagittarius Pluto is located in my 3rd house and it is also the ruler of this house. my little sister, who is Rising Sagittarius with Scorpio Moon, and I have a really deep relationship, but we ALWAYS seem to have intense and sarcastic arguments. she is extremely emotional and vulnerable (+ Cancer Sun), so she often attacks before someone else can hurt her, like a hedgehog. my cutie.

6. continuing the topic of the Moon and family in general. my Taurus Moon has made my relationship with my mother seem a bit... materially focused? I love her dearly, but for a long time I saw her as someone who just cooked, bought my clothes, earned money and was concerned about my physical well-being. in terms of emotions we were stable and neutral. by contrast, my sister has far more intense feelings - they have many arguments, resentments and mutual claims. it's strange and fun to witness this love-hate dynamic.

7. I also see a connection between the charts of our parents and our charts. my mother is Rising Cancer with Sagittarius Sun. it's vice versa for my sister. despite the fact that she is an exact copy of our father in terms of appearance... my 1st house Sun makes me a real father's daughter. btw, he had Libra Sun with Virgo placements. so, it's again vice versa. my personality is greatly influenced by his, and his upbringing has had a significant impact on me. having Chiron conjunction with IC as a family house... losing him is still one of my most painful wounds.

8. 1° Virgo Mars in the 12th house supported by Capricorn Lilith... I'm still learning how to deal with my anger in a healthy way and the need to control everything. sometimes I feel a truly destructive desire to release my anger, even if it hurts other people. in such cases, I usually go for a walk alone for about 30.000 steps to fix it and calm down.

9. the conjunction of my Jupiter and MC makes me extremely delusional about becoming famous and global. I'm not sure what to do about it. maybe I should see a therapist.

10. the connection (however it's not very accurate in my case, somewhere it is stated to be a conjunction) of Venus and Mercury in Libra is usually said to have some special, magnetic voice features. while I cannot say for sure what is meant by "special features", I've often been told that my voice and way of speaking have a calming effect on people and can even make them feel sleepy if they listen for too long.

11. I guess, it's again about my active 9th house, but I'm good at learning foreign languages and it comes naturally to me.

12. having Rahu in my 11th house... I guess it has an aim to teach me how important friends are. my social circle greatly changed many times over the years.  I've had about 10 "best friends", but we don't communicate anymore. as my 11th house is in Cancer, each time it was very personal and dramatic for me. so, at some point I began to think about friends with "easy come - easy go" philosophy and didn't want to be attached to someone anymore. after that, I met someone who has been my best friend for four years already, and we've been through living together, long-distance communication, shared interests, traveling together, and haven't had any serious arguments yet. I think this is also connected to my Ketu-Lilith conjunction in Capricorn and control issues, something from "previous" karmic experience. after learning to let things go their own way, I have succeeded.

13. having my Saturn in square with my Mars makes me a kinda... renegade? I've always had troubles with authority figures, like teachers and directors. like "why should I listen to and respect you if you're saying nonsense?" however, my Mars is weak, so I tend to just silently complain and endure it, haha.

14. also, there is an interesting connection between Sagittarius IC and Gemini Saturn in the 9th house. my family is strongly religious and I was raised according to Christian beliefs. as the 9th house is also the house of faith, guess whose Gemini Saturn is rationalizing everything and saying: "it has nothing to do with me. I cannot simply believe in something 1) unjust 2) having weak evidence" etc. I guess my family secretly hates me for this when we discuss religion...

15. Libra Venus trine Aquarius Uranus has given me a good aesthetic sense in terms of visual arts. I'm not that bad at digital art (art in general, but that's not the main issue). damn, why it feels like I'm bragging... nevertheless, my friends and family often ask me to take photos of them and do "post-production", as I've been learning Photoshop since I was 11. I'm really a huge perfectionist when it comes to it. I "blame" Uranus specifically because it rules technologies.

16. Mercury is the dominant planet in my chart and it doesn't have any harsh aspects. + it forms a trine with my Uranus. I learned to speak when I was around 1-1.5 years old.

17. I don't know why, but Virgo Sun & Ascendant haven't made me obsessed with cleaning, despite the stereotypes. in fact, my house often gets messy. HOWEVER, when I do start cleaning, it can take up the whole day...

18. Sun and Ascendant in the same sign really make me really obvious to define. people often say that I'm that one pedantic killjoy when it comes to communication. I'm really sorry about this, but I can't help it, haha.

19. Pluto in the 3rd house + Virgo Mars in the 12th house, I guess, is the duo which explains my irrational love to songs with some harsh, disrespectful, and dark lyrics. I mention Virgo Mars here because I feel that it helps me to deal with my internal aggression properly. and also Libra Venus and Mercury in the 2nd house... my guilty pleasure is to listen to rappers' lyrics, when they sing about being broke nonames initially and achieving money, girls, fame and, overall, being on top now.

20. active 5th house with Leo as a ruler of the 12th house... it's tough. I really enjoy imagining myself on stage, receiving attention. I think I have a potential at least to act 'cause my image and appearance can dramatically change if I want them to. a friend of my ex-boyfriend, who saw my Instagram profile once said that he couldn't believe that the same person was in all the photos. my makeup artist also told me that I have the appearance of a chameleon and it's possible to create any image on it. but the reality is cruel and when I actually receive attention, I become scared and shy, not knowing what to do next. is there any way to overcome this..?

21. btw, Virgo ASC and that "you can be anyone" feature. I personally believe that it's hard to identify them by their appearance as this ASC can give a slightly... standardized appearance? especially if a certain person has some strong planets connected to ASC / the 1st house (for example, my 1st house Sun gave me red hair when I was a child), they can easily be mistaken for anyone. I may be biased, but you can identify Virgo Rising by their behavior or style, but not by physical traits.

Thank you for reading!

Maybe there are some mistakes, so I'm sorry.

That's how my first post came to be. I've talked a lot about myself. Damn. But writing about oneself is always the easiest thing to do. Hope someone can find it relatable. I also attach my natal chart here. Maybe you will find something interesting in it or make some assumptions, I'm opened to discuss your placements if you want to!

Pictures credits: Pinterest

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Twenty-One

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Canon-level violence (blood, gore, fighting, killing, death), mentions of SA, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You continue to compete in the Blood Rite.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty

“What are you doing here?” You asked him. “You should’ve completed the Rite years ago…”

“I just qualified for it this winter… (Y/N), we all thought you were dead.” He said and stepped closer to you, making you take a step back. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just saved your life.” He said. 

“I was doing just fine by myself.” You replied, grabbing your spear from the ground. “I don’t need help.” 

“I’m not here to help you. I just think it might be easier to have an ally out here than not.” He said. 

“And you don’t have a little band of brothers here?” You asked. 

“All my friends have completed the Rite already.” He said and let out a breath. “We should keep moving.” He said. 

You looked at him and held back a scowl as you started to walk. “Took you a while to qualify for this, hmm?” You asked and looked at him. 

“I have a mate,” he said. “And I’ve been focused on caring for her since her father clipped her wings when she was young.” 

You glanced at him. If he thought he was going to get any sympathy from you... “I don’t speak to our father anymore, either.” He said. “When our brothers didn’t find you, he got more brutal… and I decided I had enough.” 

“Good for you,” you ground out. “I’m glad you had the choice of leaving and being able to live a normal life.” You said. 

“How did you end up here?” He asked. 

“I’m not telling you anything about myself.” You said. “And if you don’t be quiet you’re going to draw attention to us and get us both killed.” You said and continued walking. 

“I just want to make Oristian.” He said, keeping pace with you. He was 10 when you left Valorworth. Had he always been this annoying? 

“I just want to survive.” You muttered and looked forward, taking a deep breath. “Just stay quiet and stay out of my way. You hunt your own food and water.” You said. “And if I catch even a whiff that you’re going to turn on me, you won’t make it to the mountain.” You said. 

“You’re taking the north way? It’s harder.” He said. 

You closed your eyes. “I know.” You said through gritted teeth. 

“If we-“

“There is no we,” you said and spun on him. That rage that was buried deep down was bubbling to the surface now. “It’s just you. And me. We are not friends. We are not family. If you insist on sticking by me, keep your mouth shut and don’t get me killed.” You said. 

He faltered his steps, frowning at your words. “Okay.” He said. 

You turned back around and continued to walk, saying those three words again in your mind to calm yourself back down.

Survive. Mountain. Mate. 

Being pissed wouldn’t get you anywhere but buried in the ground. 

Day 4-5

The fourth day went by quickly. You and Varyn ran into two separate groups that you took out easily. Varyn seemed to know one of them, but didn’t seem too upset when you killed them. You ripped your cloak more and found some flowers to clean your arm wound with water. It was wrapped as tight as possible to keep the elements out. It had stopped bleeding once water hit it. 

Varyn still wouldn’t shut up. When you were alone he would tell you about the war camp, about his mate, Wessian, and about your elder brothers. As if you wanted to know anything about his life. The life that you fled from because of your father. You didn’t blame Varyn for it, he was 10 and could barely fly properly. But that didn’t change the fact that your father raised him. Even if Varyn left the second he could. 

You were half a day's walk from Ramiel when you got into bigger trouble.

That group of 5 males was back again. You knew you would regret leaving them alive. They surrounded you again. This time, you had even less sleep, less food, and less strength than you did before. But you had Varyn. From the previous day and a half, you knew he could fight.

It didn’t go very well for you. But it went worse for them. The main brunette had left a nasty gash in your right calf. Your lip was busted open and your left eye almost swollen shut from where one of his friends hit your head with a bludgeon. And you were pretty sure another one of them twisted your left wrist even worse than it was before. Varyn was in slightly better shape, his legs were fine but you could tell his ribs were definitely not okay. 

You found a stream, filled your canteen and cleaned your wounds. You just hoped that the water was clean enough not to cause infection. 

This time you were glad that you killed them. 

Day 6

You made it to Ramiel. Your leg was killing you, but you made it to the mountain. Your second priority was finished. You would be titled Oristian with Varyn. But once he saw it, he wanted to keep going. You knew you couldn’t make the climb, but being alone with your leg’s condition worsening wouldn’t be a good choice either. So you chose to follow him. 

You told him about your new family. About Cassian, Mor, Amren, Feyre, Rhys… and Azriel. You left out the part of him being your mate. If you focused on it too long, you could swear you could feel the tug. Buried deep deep down from the spells that suppress magic. You knew he could feel it too, if it even snapped for him when it did for you. 

You told him that you were a Shadowsinger and a spy for Amarantha, and Rhys took you to his home after you found Sirona, Igna, and Oran dead. You told him how you found a place in the Night Court. And it was your home. 

You just had to last one more day, two more nights, and you could go back to your home. To your mate. 

You found a cave on the mountain, probably half way up, trusting Varyn enough at this stage to actually sleep. It was a mistake. 

Day 7

It was the last day. If you survived till dawn, you would be back home. With Azriel. But when you awoke in the morning, there was something sharp poking the side of your neck. 

“We can’t let a female win, can we?” You heard someone say. It was familiar, but you couldn’t place the voice. You opened your eyes, going to struggle but you found yourself restrained. A terrible feeling washed over you as you saw your brother laying on the ground, gasping as he held his stomach. He was bleeding out. A lot. He wouldn’t make it till dawn. He wouldn’t even make it till noon. Not unless you could bind it. And you were pretty sure your leg was infected by the way it felt when the Illyrian restraining you pulled you to your feet. Your head spun, and you figured you had a fever as well from the flush you felt on your cheeks and the chill that ran through your body despite the lack of wind. 

“Maybe we’ll clip your wings. Tear them right off of you. And then fuck you until your dead. Or close to it.” You recognized the male. It was Nearsen. He was the one who you fought the day before the qualifying course. “And then, we’ll show your wings to that pretty boy and the Lord Commander. See how they force females upon us then.” He said. 

You couldn’t even struggle against the grip of the male holding you. Did they drug you with something? Your head felt a lot heavier than it should for a fever. “You won’t touch me.” You managed to get out, wincing when Nearsen grabbed your top and pulled it towards him, causing it to rip in the process. Luckily, you still had your second layer beneath so he couldn’t see anything. That was when he took a rock and tore threw the rest of your top, exposing the top half of your body. 

“Might want to mind your tongue, princess. It won’t make it easier for you if you fight.” He said. 

You glanced over to your brother as he slowly bled to death. The only thing in his eyes was horror. Something new snapped inside of you. You couldn’t let another one of your family members die. Not if you were alive and conscious. Even if you denounced the Vash name long ago. You wouldn’t let him die. Not like this. And you sure as hell wouldn't let another male harm you without fighting.

You took a deep breath, groaning when Nearsen pushed in on the festering wound on your leg. You took your chance while his head was down, kneeing him in the groin. You quickly moved your neck before they could jab the small wooden stake in it. You hit a pressure point below their arm, seeing the stake drop. You caught it, immediately bringing it up to stab the male behind you in the neck. You recognized him too. But you didn’t dare think too much about it as you stood up straight, ignoring the pain in your leg. You held the small wooden stake, now dripping with blood.

Nearsen and two other males closed in on you. Both were injured, and one could barely walk straight from the broken leg he had. You went for him next, dodging Nearsen and knocking the injured one out. You did the same to the other male, easily finding that pressure point. Whatever weakness that you woke up to was gone. Anger and determination pulsed through your veins. 

Nearsen sneered, going to lunge at you but you simply hit his pressure point, watching as he fell down. You should kill them while they were down. You learned the cost once before. But you were concerned about your brother. You threw your cloak off, running over to him.

“How bad is it?” You asked as you poured the little water you had left on the wound before tying off his injury as tight as you could. 

“I’m not bleeding from my mouth yet.” He coughed and you shook your head. 

He told you what happened as you helped him up, both of you limping out of the cave into the late morning. How they jumped him and stabbed him before he even saw what was coming. They covered his mouth so he couldn’t warn you too. 

You glanced back, cursing yourself for not killing the three males laying in the cave. But you were closer to the top than you thought, still about halfway up the mountain. You were on the easier route of the mountain as well, not the hardest part. You could make it by dawn if you didn’t stop. And if you were correct, the monolith on top of Ramiel would heal your wounds. 

So you helped Varyn up, closer and closer to the peak. You had to let go of him, climbing the rocks instead of walking at certain points. Night had fallen, and you could barely see. But as soon as dawn hit, you would be free. You could see the moon setting, getting closer to the peak as it did. 

You were doing well until you heard the three males chasing you. You slipped, your hand scraping against the rock. “Go faster.” You yelled to Varyn, who was ahead of you. You bit down on your tongue as you climbed, each wound you had yelled at you to stop. But you had to get up there. You made it to a pass where you didn’t have to climb. Varyn helped you up the best he could and then you both sprinting up the mountain. The moon was almost set. Dawn was nearing. The sun just about to peak over the horizon. You could see the top of Ramiel. You let Varyn climb before you, starting after him. 

He waited for you at the top. He wouldn’t touch it without you. You gritted your teeth, pulling yourself up. Your leg was basically dead weight. If you made it back alive, you weren’t sure your leg would survive. 

You almost made it to the top. Almost touched that stone as you felt a spear lodge in the top of your left wing. So close to the tendon you could’ve sworn it tore right through it. You let go of the rock you were holding on to, feeling your body give way to your injuries. Your wings fought against the bindings as they tried to free themselves. Tried to keep you from falling. But you were. Tumbling down the mountain. More and more wounds littering your body. Until you landed on the pass where you sprinted. Your arm broke. Every breath hurt. You faintly heard Varyn yell. Your wings twitched at the broken bones, the wooden spear that was lodged in it had pierced all the way through. You were sure the tendon snapped. And just as you saw the sun peek out from the ground, you succumbed to the darkness.

A/N: My note from what I was writing this reads: "heheehehhe cliff hangeerrr (almost literally)…." Stay tuned for Monday!

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