#i will not be able to survive another game in the series if he is not in it

[sneakyfox55]

i already miss Quincy and it's only been like an hour :(

[dancingtotuyo]

epilogue. the ghosts that we knew

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: angst, hurt and comfort, cancer, TLOU II SPOILERS, death, grief, Major Character Death, afterlife?

Notes: So we come to the end of this beautiful journey. Thank you EVERYONE for all your lovely comments and words over these past several month. I hope you don't hate me too much.

Words: 3942

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You walk the trail every night. Sometimes, Ellie joins you or Maria, but never Tommy. Sometimes you walk alone. You talk to Gabe still. You tell him about Carter. You tell him that you’re okay. But most often, you talk to Joel. It’s not that you loved him more, but it is different. Where Gabe drifted further away in death, you still feel Joel nearby like he’s watching over you. You wonder if Gabe saw Joel coming. Maybe he stepped back so you could have someone next to you.

You tell Joel about your day and how the kids are growing. You pull his smile, the feel of his hand in yours, out of the recesses of your mind, so close to the surface, it's almost tangible. You tell him that you miss him. It takes years, but eventually, you tell him that you’re okay. 

Ellie spends more time with you at the house. She walks with you to take Carter and Willa to school. She comes over for dinner most nights. Together, you tell your favorite Joel stories over dinner. Carter chimes in from time to time. Willa listens for every drop she can glean of the fading figure in her young mind. 

The kids are asleep when Ellie has her first panic attack. The clattering of pots falling to the floor does it. You hold her through it. Your hands aren’t able to fix this one. She sleeps next to you on Joel’s side of the bed that night. It still smells like him. 

It’s a month after Joel’s burial when Tommy comes fumbling in late to your weekly family dinners. He has a lead on the girl who did it. Tension seeps through your bones. You don’t have the same taste for revenge. The idea is bitter in your mouth. 

There’s a lot of shouting. Maria tells Tommy no. That part is clear, but you see the guilt seep through him. He knows he’s not responsible for Joel’s death, but he can’t let it go. It’s no surprise when Maria knocks on your door the next morning that Tommy is gone. Ellie and Dina ride out that morning. Jesse follows suit soon after. 

The familiar fog of grief creeps at the corners of your mind. You can’t let it overtake you this time. You have the kids. Tommy and Ellie’s absence makes it harder, but you push through. You want to do more than just survive. You can almost hear Joel cheering you on. 

You throw yourself into motherhood and training your apprentices. At night, you cry yourself to sleep. Maria and Elias spend more time at your house than theirs. You never say it out loud, but both of you start to wonder if your family unit which was once 8 has dwindled to 5. 

A weight lifts off your chest when Ellie bursts into the clinic. You pull her into a suffocating hug and then inspect her for injuries. There are many, but she’s going to be okay. Tommy’s leg is another story. It’s been too long since he sustained the injury. He’ll walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Dina’s shoulder injury is miraculously not infected, but it’s the subtle swell of her abdomen that makes you lose your breath. 

You’re able to find a strong heartbeat with the doppler. Dina and Ellie share a relieved look. You want to ask but restrain yourself. Ellie will tell you when you need to know. 

You don’t ask where Jesse is. 

Your family dinners resume. Your family table is back to 8 since Dina joined with the ever-growing promise of 9. You know Tommy is still searching for leads on Abby. You pray he never finds them. Things between him and Maria aren’t good. Ellie says she’s done seeking her out. 

Ellie spends a lot of her free time riding outside the wall. You don’t ask questions. Joel liked to wander too. Sometimes she shares about the things she saw, but oftentimes she just shares a knowing grin with Dina. There’s a twinge in your heart. You used to do the same with Joel. 

Autumn is in the air when you finally open Joel’s drawers. Maria hasn’t said anything about Joel’s clothes, but you know you need to go through them, distribute what’s wearable to people who need it. It still smells like him. Tears spring in your eyes. It’s been so long that you have started to forget it. Closing your eyes, you can feel him next to you, behind you, in front. He’s all around. His soft voice echoes deep within your brain almost like he’s whispering in your ear. The tears fall in steady streams. 

You save 2 shirts, one for Carter and one for Willa. Ellie has his watch, and you have the kids. The rest of his shirts and jeans go into the box. Then you clean out his sock drawer, checking each for holes, which most of them have. A small smirk crosses your face. You and Sarah used to do the laundry. His socks always had holes then too. Some things never change. You pull two socks apart, and something flashes in the light before hitting the floor with a soft ping. You toss the socks into the box, feeling around for the item. You find it just under the dresser. 

You hold the thin, gold band in your palm. It feels so delicate in your hands. Diamond chips encrust half of the band, shimmering in the light. Your eyes water again. It slips on with just enough resistance that it won’t slip off: a perfect fit. How long did he have this? Was he going to give it to you? 

Yes. It whispers in your bones. 

Not as a proposal, you know that, but a sign of his commitment. You slip it back off. Something doesn’t sit right about wearing it on your finger for the whole world to see. You want to keep this between you and Joel for a little while.

You open up the box on your dresser. It contains your wedding band, untouched since you placed it there years ago, a few pairs of earrings, and the gold chain your dad gave you the day you graduated nursing school. You slide the ring onto the chain. It rests underneath your shirt, near your heart.  

You give Maria the box to distribute. You don’t tell her about the ring. It stays tucked under your shirt.

The night of Joel’s birthday, you reach for the last of the coffee beans pushed in the back of the  cupboard. There’s something therapeutic about the movements- grinding the beans and boiling the water. 

When you open the cupboard, the owl mug sits at the forefront. You freeze. You don’t know how it got there. It’s stayed pushed to the back since his death, but it makes you hold your breath. You despised that thing so much, but now you reach for it, filing it with coffee.

“Make enough for two?” Ellie says.

You spin around to find her sitting at the kitchen table. You smile weakly. “I can make it stretch.”

You know her disdain for it but say nothing, filling a second mug for her. The two of you sit in silence, steaming cups of coffee in front of you until Ellie gives up trying to choke it down. She pours the remainder of her mug into yours. You chuff, smile tipping your lips. 

“I don’t know how that old man drank this shit.”

“Yeah, this isn’t great, but you know Joel.”

“Never saw him turn down a cup of coffee.”

“No, I don’t think he ever did.” You take another sip of coffee, eyes watering with unshed tears.

Ellie invites you to join her on a ride one day. You take her up on the offer. You ride side by side for most of the trek. It’s apparent she’s taking you somewhere. 

“Ever been out this way?”

“Joel used to pull me out of Jackson from time to time. We spent time in the wildflower fields. Bugged the hell out of the council.” You laugh. 

Ellie smiles. “And before?”

“I never got so far past this side of Jackson.”

“Something new to see,” Ellie says, excitedly then hesitates slightly. “Joel took me to a museum once for my birthday. They had a dinosaur and a space exhibit. He tracked down an old tape from one of the rocket launches. It was one of the best days of my life.” 

“I remember when he found the museum. He couldn’t stop talking about how excited he was to show you.” you smile at the memory. “He talked about that day a lot. It was one of his favorites.”

Ellie pulls her horse to a stop and you follow suit. “He was really good at that, making sure there were good days.”

“He was.”

“I’m not sure how many good days are left for me in Jackson.” 

Your heart skips a beat as you push down the panic rising in your chest. You can’t lose another person. “Oh?”

“Dina and I… we’ve been talking about what we want after the baby is born.” 

You try to focus on her words, not the ringing in your ears. “Is that why you brought me out here?”

“I wanted to show you.” Ellie grins, kicking her horse forward.

You furrow your brow following after her. Your questions are answered as you burst into a clearing. An old farmhouse comes into view. It appears to be in relatively good condition. A partial fence circles widely around the property. It’s new. 

You look over at Ellie who wears a look of pride and ownership over the small estate. “You did this?”

Ellie nods. “Dina and I are gonna move after the baby is born. I’ve been working to get the fence finished and the inside livable”

Tears prickle at the back of your eyes. There aren’t words for how you feel. You’re sad that Ellie won’t be across the street anymore, but you’re proud of her for carving out her own space in this world. She’s not far, you remind yourself. There’s something else about it tugging in your soul. Joel would love this place. 

“You and Carter and Willa can come visit us anytime,” Elie says as if she can read your thoughts. 

“Ellie, it’s amazing.” 

She looks relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Now show me inside.”

The sun is setting as the settlement walls fade into view. You two spent too long at The Farm, you know it, but you hadn’t seen Ellie’s eyes light up like that in a long time. She is bouncing off the walls. It’s good to be out from behind the city walls. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course.”

“It’s just... ” Ellie bristles. “You’ve been quiet since we left.” 

“Sorry, I’ve just been thinking.”

“Oh.” 

You let it settle over the two of you for a while. “Joel always talked about finding a farm nearby. Getting out of the walls.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I did a shitty job of training other people to do my job. I didn’t feel like I could leave.”

Ellie nods. 

“I asked him what kind of farm he wanted.” You smile at the memory. “He always said-”

“Sheep.” Ellie finishes. “Because they’re quiet and do what they’re told.” 

You laugh. “Exactly.” 

You’re back within the walls of Jackson as the sun dips behind the mountains. You walk down the streets side by side in silence. Ellie turns for her house. 

“Ellie, I’m proud of you.” She stops in her tracks and turns around. Lights from the house sparkle off her eyes. “I don’t know if that means a lot coming from me-”

You’re cut off when she collides into your chest, arms squeezing you tight. You squeeze back. “Thank you.” It’s soft on her voice. 

JJ is a few months old when Ellie and Dina move out to The Farm. You go out to visit them occasionally, sometimes with the kids and sometimes not. The first time you go alone, the wildflowers are in bloom. You take a 15-minute pitstop to collect yourself when you first spot them. You leave The Farm early to walk through the same wildflowers Joel used to take you to. 

The breeze plays in your loose hair. You slip off your boots and let your toes curl into the unkempt ground. You see Joel’s smile in the Prairie Fire, hear his laugh in the Columbine. 

Here, the familiar whisper behind your ear says. 

You still wear the ring on your chain. It feels warm under your shirt. Unclasping it, you let the gold band fall into your palm. You slip the ring on your finger for the first time since you found it, and it stays there.

You pick a bouquet of wildflowers. They sit on your kitchen table for a week, and it feels like Joel hand-delivered them. Willa stares at them with her head cocked to the side, chin resting on the table. The tilt of her head reminds you of Joel. She has his soft curls that gather right at the bottom of her neck. The wonderment in her eyes reminds you of Sarah. You can’t help but kiss her head, let your fingers trail through her hair. His rings sparkles on your finger under the sun streaming through the window. You wonder if she feels the same draw toward the flowers that her dad did. 

Willa smiles up at you. “Feels nice, mommy.” His Little Wildflower. She’s growing like a weed.

Carter struggles. He doesn’t talk. He spends most of his days in his bedroom. Joel always found a way to get him to talk, to smile. He may be the spitting image of his father- but it’s clear he got your temperament- your way of handling his feelings. 

You take him to The Farm, just the two of you. He helps in the barn, rolls around with the sheep, and walks the fence line with Ellie for hours. You hear him laugh while you hold JJ on the front porch. Even though they don’t share blood with him, you see bits of Joel in both their mannerisms. They learned how to interact with the world from him. 

Carter is excited when they get back. Ellie is going to teach him how to shoot next time you visit. You swallow back tears. Joel promised to teach him once he turned 10. Carter talks your ear off the whole way home. 

Tommy still looks for leads on Abby. You pray he never finds one. Things between him and Maria are tense. Elias spends a lot of time at your house. Your worst fears are realized when Maria bangs on your front door at 6 am one morning. Tommy’s found a lead. He’s going to talk to Ellie. 

You tear into Tommy in the middle of the street when he gets back that evening. “What the fuck are you thinking!?”

He brushes you off. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Like hell you are! How dare you bring Ellie back into this!” You’re a mama bear, fiercely protecting her cub. “You fucking asshole! Do you know how hard she’s worked to be okay?”

“She wants justice just as bad as I do!” You’re sure the whole town is watching from their windows, but you don’t care. 

“This isn’t justice! It’s revenge!” You can’t push back the tears that come. Your family table can’t grow smaller. You can’t lose Tommy too. “Where does it fucking end? With us all in the ground? He wouldn’t have wanted this!”

“How can you say that?” Tommy gets in your face. It’s a scare tactic you’ve seen him use before. You don’t flinch. “That bitch took him from us! She made us slide that knife into his heart. She deserves it- and worse!”

“You will not drag my children into this, Tommy!”

“Did you really love him? Or was it all just-”

Your hand collides with his cheek before he can finish. “How dare you!” You’re shaking with rage. Tommy holds his cheek in his hand. “Joel would’ve wanted you here with your wife and son! He would’ve wanted us to keep having family dinners, and holidays together! He would’ve wanted us to live! Not just survive! I’m trying to live, Tommy! Because going back into survival would kill me! And it’ll do the same to Ellie!”

“If she doesn’t go, I go.” Tommy walks away. 

You ride out to The Farm the next morning. Dina looks relieved when you climb the front porch stairs. Ellie is in her drawing room. She’s added more portraits since you were here last. They’re mostly Dina and JJ, but there’s one of Carter from his last visit, Willa from behind, Joel with his guitar on the porch, playing catch with Carter, dancing with Willa. All as clear as pictures. It hits you how much she observed, took in even when she looked in from a distance. The last one steals your breath for a minute. Two silhouettes dance on a front porch.

You have to swallow back the emotions before you speak. “I know Tommy was here yesterday.” 

And then she cries in your arms. You brush her hair away from her face as she does. You make out limited information. The panic attacks keep coming. She can’t make them stop. She thinks this will make them stop. Your hands, so used to healing, feel useless. 

With her head in your lap, she looks like that 14 year old girl you met years ago. “It’s not your fault, Ellie.”

She looks up at you through bloodshot eyes. “He would’ve never killed that doctor if it wasn’t for me.”

I would do it all again. It comes through so tangible. You repeat it to her. You tell her it’s not her fault. You tell her that Joel learned to live again because of her. You want the same thing for her. Don’t let vengeance overtake her. You want her to live life how it’s meant to be lived, not the violent cycle it’s turned into. Joel wants her to live. 

Ellie stays on the farm with Dina and their son. She comes to see you in Jackson more often. All three of them do. The two of you talk about the day Joel died and what she saw. She finds out what helps her get through the panic attacks. It’s not easy, but they start to come less frequently. 

Tommy goes after Abby. You feel like you lose another piece of Joel as his figure disappears into the tree line. You hold Maria as she cries. No one sees her cry but you. The roles are reversed, but you know how to give her support and comfort. You learned from the best. 

I’m still here, Darlin. You have all of me.

You hear nothing from or of Tommy for months. It turns into years. Maria blames herself. She told him to not come back. Elias is getting into trouble at school. You’re all shocked when Tommy returns two years later. He moves into Joel’s house across the street. He never found her. 

Maria and Tommy coexist. They both join family dinners. They co-parent Elias well, but they don’t reunite. 

Life isn’t always easy, but you make it through, all of you. Most importantly, you experience life. The ups and downs, the twists and the turns, and you do it together because you’re family. 

It’s the morning of Willa’s 16th birthday when you find it. A lump in your breast. Just 1 from what you can tell. You comb your mind for any other signs. None that you can recall. Maybe it’s benign. You push back the memories of your grandmother’s battle with breast cancer, but the tears still emerge. 

I’ve got you. You swear you can almost feel Joel’s arms around you. 

You don’t tell anyone. You spend more time outside the walls. You’ve trained up several people to provide medical care. Morgan can suture better than you. Sharon has steadier hands. Willa is already an expert herbalist, growing and cultivating medicinal herbs and plants. If something happens to you, Jackson will still have good medical care.

Joel seems closer than ever these days, like the veil between worlds is thinning. Sometimes you swear you see a flicker of him like a mirage in the wildflowers, or in the corner when the whole family is together. You were never sure what you thought about higher powers and the afterlife, but you’re sure there’s something there.  

You find another lump two years later. A third shows up soon after. You start to notice other changes in your body. You’re tiring easier.  

You’re more intentional about the time you spend with the kids. You make sure they know the stories they can’t remember. Carter teaches you how to shoot a bow. Willa teaches you about all the herbs in her greenhouse. You spend whole weeks at The Farm. It’s the end of summer when you know you have to start telling people. You tell Ellie while the two of you watch the sunset from the porch swing. She hugs you. There are tears, but there's peace to them. 

You faint while on a walk with Maria at the start of September. You tell her, and then you tell the kids. It’s one of the hardest things you have to do. Even at 21 year old, Carter goes to stone as Willa cries in your arms. 

You’re confined to your bed by Christmas. You sleep most of the day. Everyone comes for Christmas. Carter carries your shrinking frame to the couch. There’s laughter and jokes. You notice Maria’s hand in Tommy’s, but you don’t ask. 

Joel catches your eye from the corner. He looks younger. In his early 40s or so, you think. He smiles at you. He’s never been so clear. He’s waiting for you.

You stop eating after Christmas. Your thoughts start to feel disjointed, words scratch at your throat and you can’t push them out. Breathing takes all your energy. Willa has extracted opium from poppies. It helps. You hear their voices filter in. Willa, Carter, Ellie, Dina, Maria, JJ, and finally Tommy. They talk to you, but you can’t respond. They reminisce. It brings comfort to you as you feel their voices slipping away until you can’t hear them anymore. It’s dark and silent. 

When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by bright clear skies. The wind rustles through the wildflowers around you. A bird chirps in the distance. You stretch out your legs with the delectable sensation only available after a sun soaked nap. 

You close your eyes again, you can see Jackson. Willa and Carter are bickering about something. They walk your evening path. Willa is giving Carter a hard time about his latest romantic encounter. You can see The Farm. Dina and Ellie sit on the front porch. JJ is doing his chores. It all feels so close, but you feel separate. You can see it all happening, walk through it with just a thought, but you can’t interact with the world.

There’s a deep chuckle in your ear. You turn your head. Joel lays next to you, a smile on his face. His hair is less gray than last time you saw him. The creases around his eyes aren’t as deep. 

His hand touches yours. It’s warm. You’ve passed to the other side of the veil. Your heart leaps.

“Hey Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you.” 

Tag List: @pedrotonin@amyispxnk@joeldjarin@ilovepedro@justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981@jessthebaker@annieispunk@ashleyfilm@moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer@lizzie-cakes@hiroikegawa

[rainyinautumn]

alright with wild life ep. 4 coming out soon it's time for me to start talking winner predictions. in order to understand my bet, let's first understand why past winners won—and, for bonus effect, why another player who I think really had a shot ultimately lost.

GRIAN. The traffic crown typically falls on the head of whichever player is most able to bend and break the rules to their advantage. 3rd Life, as the archetypal Life Series with the fewest rules to manipulate, was won by the man who understood (and broke) them best—their inventor. Throughout the series, I think Impulse demonstrated a similar cunning and could have been able to pull off a win. His error was failing to establish trust with his allies in a series that was defined by its faction loyalty.

SCOTT. With the introduction of the Boogeyman, Last Life demanded a winner with a level head. With favorable relationships paving the path to regaining lives, there was very little wiggle room for more aggressive, risk-taking players, making this season favor players with high survivability. Continuing the trend of rule breakers, Scott was the only player to weigh the odds and refuse to act on the Boogeyman curse—which ultimately paid off for him. Similarly calculating and loyal is Etho, who lost this win by aligning himself with a volatile group that failed to lend him the stability Scott had throughout the series.

PEARL. It was so, so much easier to die in Double Life than any other series, and so its winner was the player who proved to be able to survive without a soulmate at all. The thing about Life Series gimmicks is that they are always, always the thing that kills you—as such, refusing to engage with them as intended elevates one's chances of victory. Such is the case with Pearl. Cleo also failed to engage with the Double Life mechanic as intended, but lost (ironically) due to her ability to forgive and the endgame belief that aligning with her soulmate was the wisest move.

MARTYN. Limited Life introduced the ability to live longer by killing, and as such encouraged players to pursue maximal violence with minimal risk through traps (namely, falling TNT minecarts). If playing by these rules led to a win, the victor would have been crowned on Skynet. Instead, Martyn broke the season-long strategy and a few series expectations along the way to opt for an absolutely brutal PvP win, which he pulled off by being the only one crazy enough to try. A good few other risk takers had a solid shot of winning this season—namely Joel. Unlike Martyn, however, Joel was unwilling to gamble with the permanent death of his teammates, and this soft spot led to his demise.

SCAR. On the surface level, Secret Life's gimmick asked its contestants to be good at the game—to be good at keeping their mouths shut, good at following directions, and good at reading other players. The kicker with all of the tasks, however, is that the gimmick is the thing that kills you, and what the tasks actually asked was for players to be bad at the game in one way or another. This made earnest attempts at success by far the most risky path forward (especially once yellow names started being able to guess tasks), and as such, Scar's continually baffling behavior worked in his favor. Similarly incomprehensible, Skizz's playstyle lent itself well to this series—however, he was simply too likable. The secretive nature of the tasks in this season brewed a hostile atmosphere in which trustworthiness made one a threat, and the Heart Foundation painted a target on him that he was unable to shed.

So. Who do I think is winning (and almost winning) Wild Life?

GEM. Of all the players in the Snailpocalypse, Gem was the only one to doggedly refuse to fear and avoid her snail. Wild Life is designed to breed uncertainty and chaos in its players, and her refusal to give in to this makes her a good contender for the crown. However, other players have begun to notice this, which could place her in hot water. My second winner pick is BigB—although more willing to engage with the wildcards, BigB has always thrived in the strange and peculiar, making him less outright afraid of them and putting him in position to potentially rise above them down the line.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 23 - 'The Right Time' | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2 k

“Hello… Ah Jude! What a surprise. How are you, golden boy?” Your dad’s voice came through warm as always and thick with a French accent. Jude smiled, though his nerves were creeping up on him. 

“Yeah, good, sir. Thanks. I was calling to see if you had seen the upcoming international schedule come out? I wanted to know if you’d be able to come to the France England match?” Jude winced as he heard his voice shake. Your dad didn’t miss a beat though. He liked Jude. 

“Bien Sûr! Of course! Wouldn’t miss it. Big game, no?” Your dad cooed. Jude felt a small wave of relief at the easy start, but now came the hard part. He swallowed, trying to sound casual. 

“Yeah? Amazing. I was, erm, also wondering if you’d also be able to meet with me before the game? You know, grab lunch or dinner the night before.” There was a brief pause before your dad laughed. “You know, if you’re available.” Jude added quickly in a panic. 

“Lunch, huh? I don’t mind a lunch. What’s the occasion?” He asked. Jude’s heart rate picked up. He just needed your dad to say yes and like three seconds ago. He was stressing. 

“Yeah, I just thought…well. I wanted to speak with you if that’d be alright.” Jude rubbed the back of his neck, stammering. “Just the two of us, before all the chaos of the match.” Jude babbled.  Your dad chuckled again, clearly amused.

“Alright, we can do that, Jude. Faisons-le.” [Let’s do it] Your dad accepted empathizing with Jude’s nerves but started to get a clearer idea of what this formal request was all about. The flicker between languages though had Jude’s head spinning.

“Perfect, thank you” Jude said quickly, his voice a little too eager. “Would you be able to meet in the 5th? There’s a place I’d like to take you to.” Jude awkwardly asked, feeling like he really shouldn’t be the one driving the conversation. Another beat of silence followed before your dad’s voice came through again confirming it all. They said their goodbyes, and Jude hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before running a hand over his face. He’d done it—he’d officially set the wheels in motion. Now all that was left was actually popping the question to you, planning, organizing it. But first, he had to survive brunch with your dad. When he walked back into the kitchen, you were sitting there with a curious look, clearly wondering what all the secrecy was about. Jude just grinned, trying to act nonchalant. You raised an eyebrow, but before you could press him any further, he quickly kissed your cheek and turned away, leaving you more suspicious than ever.

You were sat on the edge of the bed, your heart racing and thoughts swirling in your mind like a storm. The realization that you hadn’t gotten your period weighed heavily on you, and every tick of the clock seemed to echo the fear building inside you. You and Jude had been careless, wrapped up in the bliss of your relationship without a thought for the potential consequence, not wrapped up in what Jude should’ve been in. As you sat there in sheer panic, Jude walked in, completely unaware of the turmoil churning within you. He came over, leaning down to kiss your neck softly, his lips sending shivers down your spine, but the warmth was lost in your anxiety.

“Jude, can you please stop?” you managed to say, your voice strained.

“Why?” he asked playfully, continuing his affection, but you couldn’t shake the tightness in your chest.

“Seriously, just stop,” you snapped, the panic bubbling over into irritation. You winced as you pushed him away, the action more forceful than you intended. Jude pulled back, concern etching his features. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone shifting to one of genuine worry. “I just thought you were just tired or something, angel. What’s going on?” He asked, able to sense there was more to this rejection.

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But the truth was, it was much deeper than that. You could feel the tension radiating off you, and it wasn’t just physical. He studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing. 

“Okay, but you’ve been tense for a couple days now. What’s actually going on?” He asked you You took a deep breath, your throat dry. The words felt like boulders in your mouth, but you knew you couldn’t hide any longer. 

“I… I haven’t gotten my period,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared, Jude.” You confessed. He moved to sit beside you, his expression shifting from confusion to concern. He squeezed your thigh reassuringly, his touch warm and grounding. 

“Wow…. Erm… that’s okay,” he whispered keeping his eyes straight ahead but leaning in to kiss your temple. “It could be fun.” He said without much thought. Your head snapped toward him, disbelief written all over your face. 

“Fun? Are you serious right now? No, I’d rather not do this!” His expression faltered, and you could see the faint amusement vanish from his eyes, replaced by a flash of defensiveness.

 “Thanks for that,” he snapped, clearly taken aback by your reaction and what felt like rejection to the idea of babies with him entirely. “I’m just saying it could be an adventure.” He tried to stop this conversation from spiraling into something it didn’t need to be. 

“Are you mad at me now?” you questioned, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you as you stood up abruptly, the tension thickening the air. You felt like you were going to cry. You could feel the pressure build behind your eyes.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he shot back, standing up too, the space between you charged with unspoken emotions. The air was thick with awkwardness and accusation. Jude couldn’t even tell you how he felt because he didn’t know. 

“Jude! This is not okay. I’m freaking out! This isn’t a joke!” you replied, your voice rising. “What if I am? What then, Jude? Our lives are just… changing overnight?” You finally cried. He sighed, running a hand over his hair, frustration etched into his features. 

“I get that this is scary. But we have to talk about it regardless. Getting upset isn’t going to help either of us.” He tried to tell you calmly. You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the wave of emotions crashing over you. Him indirectly telling you to chill out though was heightening your feelings of panic

 “I know that! But what if I’m not ready for this? What if you’re not ready?” You yelped. You felt like Jude wasn’t understanding how real this was. Jude stepped closer and you almost winced.

“Y/N, look at me. We both know we’ve been irresponsible, but this doesn’t have to be the end of everything we’ve built. We can figure it out together.” The intensity of his gaze pierced through your panic, and you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he understood. Maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit.

“Together?” you repeated, uncertainty lacing your voice.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, stepping even closer until you could feel the heat radiating from him. “We’ll take this one step at a time. We’ll take a test, and then we’ll deal with whatever comes next. But you’re not alone in this. You never will be, angel.” You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was resolve. The weight on your chest began to ease just a little, as his unwavering support wrapped around you like a lifeline. “I’ll go out to the shops right now and buy a test, Angel.” He cooed and all of a sudden he watched your facial expression change. You brief moment of relief evaporating. Jude stood there for a moment, his mind racing as he processed everything you had just said and your facial expression now. You were right; the situation was overwhelming, and the last thing he wanted was to put any unnecessary pressure on you. He had only wanted to help, but now he could see that his suggestion had only made things worse. How could him buying a test make things worse? He wasn't sure but he knew you were about to tell him just that.

“Jude, you can’t! People can’t know! People can’t see you do that. They’ll think… they’ll think—” Your voice trembled, the panic rising again as you thought about the implications. The idea of being in the spotlight for something so personal was terrifying.

“Y/N,” he said gently, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “It’s just a test. Nobody has to know anything until we’re ready. I promise.” But as he spoke, he could see the fear etched in your face, and it twisted something deep within him.

“Please,” you said, your voice cracking. “I just can’t handle the idea of everyone finding out. I don’t want to be a headline. I’m just… so scared.” The fight that had started to brew between you dissolved into something much deeper as tears pooled in your eyes. The stress of the moment crashed down on you like a wave, and you could feel the weight of it all suffocating you. Jude didn’t like seeing you like this; it cut through him in a way he didn’t expect. In an instant, he moved toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He held you tightly, trying to shield you from the storm that raged within.

“I’m here for you, yeah?” he whispered softly in your hair, trying to ground you. “No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere. You will be okay. We will be okay.” Your body shook as the tears began to flow more freely, the tension releasing with the warmth of his embrace. You buried your face in his shoulder, allowing the sobs to escape. It felt like everything was crashing down around you, and the vulnerability of the moment overwhelmed you. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” You muttered feeling like an idiot for being reckless enough to end up in this situation. You felt both terrified and safe, cradled in the arms of the one person who made you feel more than just a girlfriend in a complicated situation.

“You’re not stupid,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “You’re brave. This is all so much to deal with, and it’s okay to feel this way but it will be okay..” He stroked your hair gently, calming you as you cried, whispering reassurances into your ear. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”  But internally, Jude was freaking out. The realization that you could potentially be pregnant sent waves of panic through him. He had always imagined having kids one day, but the thought of it happening now, with everything finally just settled down between you, made his head spin. How had he gotten to this point? He wanted to be a father, to have that family, eventually  but now, feeling the weight of your fears in his arms, he questioned if he was ready for it all. Seeing you in this state, crying in his arms, made him feel like he was going to pass out. As much as he was a steadying force for you right now you were acting as an anchor for Jude. The gravity of the situation pressed down on him, the excitement of the idea mingling with the fear of the unknown. What if this changed everything? What if it didn’t? Questions raced through his mind like a whirlwind, but all he could focus on in that moment was you. “I know this feels like a lot right now, but we’ll figure it out together,” he promised, trying to project the confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’ve got you.” As you finally began to calm, his heart softened at the sight of you clinging to him. He wished he could take away all your fears, all your worries, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Instead, he just held you tighter, wishing to convey the certainty that he was all in, no matter what came next. Even if either of you didn’t know what was to come, he had you. “I love you,” he whispered against your hair, hoping those words would anchor you in this moment of chaos. “And whatever happens, I’ll be right here.” He cooed gently.

The test sat there, stark and unforgiving, the two pink lines—or lack thereof—defining everything in that moment. You stared at it, willing your mind to understand the reality before you. Jude’s face fell, his expression a mix of disappointment and relief. You couldn’t bear to look; instead, you focused on the way he stood across from you in the bathroom, trying to gauge what he was feeling.

“Are you relieved?” you finally meekly managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of the unknown.

“Yeah,” he muttered, the word escaping him quietly as if it carried the burden of all the unsaid things between you. A knot twisted in your stomach at his response. Relief? Did that mean he didn’t want a baby with you? Suddenly it felt like Jude looked you square in the face and said he never wanted to even entertain the idea of a child with you. He hadn’t said that though. Still the thoughts spiraled in your mind like a storm. What would he have done if the test had been positive? Would he have felt trapped? Scared? Would he have walked away? As if sensing your turmoil, Jude stepped closer, closing his eyes for a moment as he took a deep breath. His hands found their way to your hips, grounding you with his touch. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours, the gentle connection calming the storm of emotions raging within you. You let the moment linger, savoring the warmth of his body against yours, the quiet intimacy of the silence. But the weight of the situation pressed heavily on both of you. “Angel…” He quietly cooed. “Is it okay if I feel a bit disappointed too, though?” he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper as he opened his eyes to meet yours. You nodded, tears spilling over as the acknowledgment of his feelings broke down your defenses. The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the reality settling around you like a thick fog. You cried openly now, the floodgates giving way as everything poured out. The relief that you weren’t pregnant mingled with the deep sense of loss for what could have been. This moment was unexpectedly sad. Jude’s expression softened, a sad smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he watched you cry. He was relieved you weren’t pregnant, but he was equally relieved to see that you shared the same sense of disappointment that tugged at his heart. It was a strange connection, this silent understanding, and it anchored both of you in that moment. “I’m really sorry, angel.”  He whispered, pulling you in tighter, his lips to your forehead. 

“I feel so empty.” You whimpered. You meant it in a way that was figurative but you felt like you could also feel the emptiness in your body now physically. 

“I don’t want you to feel alone in this,” he murmured,his lips ghosting over your skin. “I know this is a lot to handle. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. I am here with you. I am so sorry.” He muttered, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. 

“I just…” you started, your voice shaky as you struggled to put your feelings into words. “I thought maybe… I don’t know, it would be different. I want you to want that with me.” You pouted.  His heart raced at your confession, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He wanted that too, but the fear of it all had clouded his thoughts. 

“I do want that with you, Y/N,” he said, his voice earnest and steady. “Just not like this but when it’s our time. Not in a panic like this, when we’re still figuring everything out.” You took a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you like a cocoon. His honesty gave you comfort, and you realized that even in the midst of chaos, you still felt secure in his arms. “I promise, angel. I can’t think of anything that I’d like more than a future like that with you. I’d be so lucky to do that with you.” He told you honestly. You hummed with a sad nod. “I’m sorry though angel and right now, however you feel…We’ll get through it together,” he whispered, pulling you tighter against him. “No matter what, you’re never going to be alone.” As the tears continued to flow, you could feel the tension slowly dissipating between you. It wasn’t the answer you thought you’d find, but it was a start. You had each other, and that was more than enough for now. He held you tightly, swaying you back and forth gently as if you were both dancing to a song only the two of you could hear. Jude hummed softly, his voice low and soothing. For a long while it was a comfortable silence laced with that hum until Jude spoke again. “You’d be a good mum, you know,” he said, a warmth spreading through your chest at his words.

“Yeah?” you replied, a small sigh escaping your lips as a smile tugged at your mouth. “Honestly… I never thought about this much until I met you.” You cooed.  Jude giggled a little thinking that was kind of crazy because when he saw you with kids, fans of his or with Teddy it was all so instinctual. 

“Yeah,” he affirmed, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. “You’re so amazing, angel. So, whenever you’re ready or not, or whatever,” he babbled, not wanting to impose any pressure on you. His voice was steady, full of reassurance.

“Yeah… like eventually, maybe I wouldn’t oppose,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice as you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Cool,” he nodded, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Cool,” you echoed, a comfortable silence falling over the room. It felt peaceful, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that had surrounded you moments before. You decided to break the silence with a playful question. “How young will our son be when you get him a haircut?” you giggled, enjoying the lightness that settled between you. He laughed, the sound rich and genuine. 

“Our son can get a weekly trim with me,” he joked, his tone filled with a playful confidence. He didn’t really answer the question but you didn’t care you liked the answer he did give. The way he said ‘ours’ sent a rush of warmth through your veins, your heart aching at the thought. It was a simple word, yet it carried the weight of a thousand possibilities. The idea of having a baby didn’t seem as scary when he held you like this, enveloped in warmth and affection.

“Do you think we’d have a boy?” you asked, curiosity shining in your eyes.

“I hope so,” he replied, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “I want to teach him how to play footie but also how to be a good human…And obviously, the value of a good trim.” He cooed with a warmth that made you want to cry but you laughed instead, imagining a little boy running around with Jude’s infectious energy and charm. 

“And if it’s a girl?” You inquired.

“Well, she’ll be gorgeous like mum and she’ll be a princess like mum. Don’t care, I’ll spoil her outright just like mum” he said, grinning down at you. You giggled at how sweet he was. The conversation flowed easily, a dance of dreams and lighthearted banter that helped to ease the weight of your earlier fears. You could picture it now: a family of your own, filled with laughter and love.

“Whatever we’d be lucky enough to have, I just know I want to do it with you,” you said softly, looking into his eyes. The sincerity in your voice caught him off guard, and for a moment, all the playful banter faded into the background, leaving only the truth of what you felt.

“Me too, angel,” he replied, sincerity washing over his features. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” In that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you realized that no matter what came next, you’d face it together. The world felt a little less daunting, and for the first time in a days, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you.

It was a crisp December morning in Madrid, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as a soft, golden light streamed into the kitchen. The air inside was cozy, the warmth from the heating system keeping the chill at bay, but a draft of cold still sneaked in from the window left cracked open the night before. You stretched lazily in the quiet of the kitchen, already up before Jude, padding around in one of his oversized hoodies. The fabric was too long for you, the sleeves hanging over your hands as you prepped breakfast, your bare feet lightly tapping on the cool tile floor. The smell of coffee brewed, and you could hear it drip slowly into the pot, filling the space with its rich aroma. You cracked eggs into a bowl, lost in the rhythm of the morning. The silence of the house, only broken by the clinking of utensils, felt soothing. There was something special about these mornings, when you had the quiet before Jude woke up, where it was just you and the promise of the day stretching out ahead of you. You heard a soft shuffle behind you and turned, catching sight of Jude, still groggy from sleep, coming imo the room. His hair was an adorable mess, he’d be embarrassed by but it was cute, and his eyes were half-lidded with drowsiness. He was wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and a loose t-shirt that only made him look more irresistibly relaxed. When he saw you, his lips curled into a slow, sleepy smile.

"Morning, gorgeous girl," he mumbled, his voice deeper and husky from just waking up. You turned back to the stove, suppressing a smile. 

"Morning, you," you replied, stirring the scrambled eggs in the pan. "Finally up, huh?"

"Mhm," he hummed, but instead of answering with words, he shuffled over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “Tired me out last night.” He smiled cheekily. His body pressed against yours as he buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. He sighed contentedly, his lips brushing the nape of your neck, making you giggle softly.

"Jude," you laughed, trying to keep stirring the eggs but already distracted by the way his hands had slid under your hoodie, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare waist. "I'm cooking..."

"Don't care," he murmured, tightening his hold on you. "Missed you. And this hoodie looks better on you than me." His voice was barely above a whisper, low and soft, but you could hear the affection in it. You rolled your eyes playfully but leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. 

"You're always so clingy in the morning," you teased, but the smile in your voice gave away how much you loved it. Jude had always been affectionate, but in the mornings, before the world pulled him in a million directions, he seemed to need you most. He was all soft touches and sleepy kisses, a version of himself that was completely yours. He kissed your neck again, slower this time, making your heart skip a beat. "Can't help it. You look so cute standing here, making me breakfast." He cheekily squeezed you a bit tighter. 

"You mean our breakfast," you corrected, turning your head slightly to give him a playful glare. "I'm not cooking all this just for you." You explained with glint in your eyes. Jude smirked, pulling back slightly to spin you around so you were facing him, your back against the counter. 

"I know, I know. You're just being nice because you love me, making me breakfast and that." His hands stayed on your hips, pulling you close as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck.

 "Maybe," you teased, pulling back slightly to look up at him. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but there was something deeper there, something soft and warm and full of love.He studied you for a moment, his thumb gently brushing along your cheek. 

"You’ve made me so soft, you know that?" He shook his head as if to be in disbelief. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? How so?" You asked with a teasing smile.  Jude's hands moved up to cup your face, his touch gentle as he held you there, his forehead resting against yours. 

"Used to just be all about football and video games and hanging out with the lads. Now I just want to do things like... make breakfast with you. Or listen to you talk about art for hours. Or... just be close to you….All the time." He cooed. He didn’t laugh though he was serious. It wasn’t that Jude hadn’t seen the change in himself but it was one of the first times he felt like he was admitting it aloud that he had changed. Your heart melted at his words, and you leaned into his touch, feeling overwhelmed by how much love you felt for him in that moment. 

"I like this version of you," you whispered, closing your eyes as he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper. "But you're still you. The boy who loves football and video games with the lads" You cooed. Jude chuckled softly, his lips still brushing against yours. 

"Maybe so. But l'd rather be here with you than doing anything else.” He told you.The warmth between you both felt so intoxicating, the morning forgotten as Jude kissed you again, his hands wandering up your sides, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. You felt the heat rise between you, the quiet intimacy of the kitchen wrapping around you both like a cocoon. But you broke the kiss, laughing softly against his lips. "The eggs are going to burn, baby" you murmured, trying to regain some semblance of focus. Jude groaned but reluctantly let you go, though not without stealing one last kiss. 

"Fine, but only because I'm hungry. And I know you cook better than me." He groaned and you giggled with a sarcastic hum. You turned back to the stove, but Jude stayed close, his hands still resting on your hips, his body pressed lightly against yours as you finished cooking. He didn't let you go, not for a second, even as you plated the food and set it down on the table. 

You had woken up early, as you often did, filled with energy and a deep sense of affection for Jude.  Since the pregnancy scare the domesticity of home life felt so special. You'd always been a morning person, and you loved taking advantage of these quiet hours to prepare a delicious breakfast for him. You threw on one of Jude's oversized sweatshirts, nothing else underneath, and headed down to the kitchen, leaving Jude to sleep in a bit more. The soft fabric brushed against your smooth skin as you move, the scent of him lingering on the collar. You hummed to yourself, slicing fruit and preparing a stack of pancakes and eggs. You couldn’t help but think about Jude still asleep, your body warming at the thought of him. You worked efficiently, your mind filled with anticipation, knowing that soon, he’d be down.

"Mmm, that smells incredible," he murmured, his voice deep and seductive. As you finished up the food with Jude glued to you, you set the plates down on the table. His brown eyes sparkling with a cheeky glint as he sat down. You beamed at him, feeling pleased. 

"For you, baby." You cooed before he pulled you onto his lap, making you giggle. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, you felt his lips return to your neck, planting soft, warm kisses that make your skin tingle. And then the mood changed. You let out a soft moan, your head falling back to give him better access. His hands begin to wander under the sweatshirt, his palms gliding over your smooth skin, igniting little fires wherever he touched. You grinded your hips against his thigh, seeking friction, needing to feel him against you. 

"You have no idea how sexy you are," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. You whined, your need for him growing by the second. Jude's fingers danced lower, his touch feathery light as they tickled your stomach, making you squirm with anticipation. Then, his fingers dipped lower, teasing the edges of your panties. You were already wet, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. With a skillful move, he slipped his fingers under your panties, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed slow, firm circles, making you gasp and grind your hips in rhythmic circles. His other hand finding your tits, his fingers pinching your hard nipple through the fabric. You were moaning loudly now, your head thrown back, offering your neck to his hungry mouth. He sucked and nips at your sensitive skin, marking you with little love bites. His fingers still working their magic on your clit, building the tension within you. You could feel your orgasm building like a storm, your body quivering. Jude was whispering dirty nothings in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "That's it, angel, cum for me. Let me feel you cum on my fingers." His commanded as he pushed you over the edge. You cried out loudly as your orgasm exploded through you. Your body shaking, your juices flowing over his fingers. You could feel his thumb dip into your hole, fucking you slowly as your orgasm continues to wash over you. You rode out the waves of pleasure, your body limp in his arms. Jude continued on though, holding you, kissing your neck softly, his fingers gently soothing your sensitive clit. You felt boneless, completely satisfied, but there was a fire still burning in your stomach, a need to return the favor. You wanted to taste him, to feel him inside your mouth. You shifted in his lap, turning to face him. Your eyes, heavy with desire, meet his, and you leant in, capturing his lips with yours. You kissed him deeply, passionately. Your tongue tangled with his, your hands burying themselves in his hair. He tasted so good, and you wanted more. No… you needed more. You pulled away, looking at him with a mixture of love and lust. 

"My turn, okay, baby?" you whispered, your voice hoarse. With that, you stood up, the sweatshirt falling to your feet, leaving you naked and glorious before him. Jude's eyes raked over your body, taking in your perky tits, nipples hard with desire. You wasted no time, moving to your knees before him. You pulled on the strings of his joggers, your fingers nimble. His hard length springing free, and you took a moment to admire it: thick, veiny, and oozing pre-cum. You leaned in, breathing in his musky scent, and then you swipe your tongue over the tip, tasting him. You looked up at Jude, seeing his eyes screwed shut, his head thrown back as he savors the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive tip. Jude was far too tired to try to play it cool right now. You took him into your mouth, slowly at first, then deeper, your lips stretching to accommodate his girth. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue working in circles, moaning softly as you taste more of him. Jude's hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, but you needed no instruction. You knew what he liked and you were going to give him just that, you wanted to feel him lose control. You took him deeper, your nose pressing into his pubic bone, and you swallowed around him, feeling his length hit the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, and Jude groaned loudly, his hips bucking slightly. You reached down, cupping his heavy balls, massaging them gently as you continue to suck and lick. You could feel his length twitch in your mouth, you knew he was holding back, trying to prolong this moment of bliss. So in retaliation, you speed up, your head moving faster, your mouth working him like a pro.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum," Jude grunted, his voice hoarse. You hummed in response, the vibrations making him jerk and swear. You felt his hands tighten in your hair, his hips thrusting up as he erupts in your mouth. You swallowed around him, tasting his salty cum and continued to suck and lick until he was completely spent. Jude pulled you up, crushing you to him in a passionate embrace. You could taste yourself on his lips as you kissed him deeply. “Such a good girl f’me, making me breakfast, making me cum," he whispered, his eyes full of admiration and desire. You smiled, feeling sexy and powerful. This is what you could do to him, and you love it. The Jude Bellingham wrapped in you and you now sat happily still wrapped in his arms as you turned to eat your breakfast, staying just as is, barely dressed, still feeling the warmth from the steamy session you and Jude had just shared. Your legs were tangled with his under the table, his bare chest pressed against your side as he kept one arm draped around your waist. You could still feel the heat of his kisses on your skin, lingering like the soft flush on your cheeks. Eventually, the plate in front of you was half-eaten, but neither of you seemed focused on the food, too caught up in the lazy intimacy of the moment.

"I really need to shower," you said, your voice light, though you made no move to get up. You giggled softly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. Jude leaned over and kissed your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to make you melt a little more into him. 

"I'll do the dishes if you let me shower with you," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You giggled again, the sound soft and full of affection. 

"Oh, really? You're that eager, huh?" you teased, turning your head slightly to look at him with a playful smile. He grinned, his hand trailing up and down your side, fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

"You know what you did," he said cheekily, his eyes glinting with mischief. You couldn't help but laugh, leaning into him as you shook your head. 

"Must've done something pretty good, then, huh?" you quipped, enjoying the flirty banter as much as the closeness of his body. 

"Fucking amazing every time, angel. You’re too good f’me," Jude pulled you closer, pressing another kiss to your temple before he whispered. You sighed contentedly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the morning light casting a soft glow over the kitchen. As much as you teased him, you loved how affectionate he was being, how he never seemed to let go of you. The promise of a shower together made you grin, and you nodded, already imagining how good the hot water would feel after this perfect, intimate breakfast. You planned on savoring every single moment this morning had to offer.

The air in Paris was crisp that morning later that month, the kind that signaled the true arrival of winter. Jude had barely slept the night before, too busy running over what he was going to say when he saw your dad in person. They were meeting for brunch, tucked away in the 5th arrondissement like they’d planned. It was just ahead of the England vs. France match, and while Jude had no problem facing a full stadium, the thought of this conversation with your dad left him feeling like he was stepping into an entirely different kind of game, one he felt unprepared for no matter how many times he rehearsed. He arrived a little early, wanting to be ready when your dad showed up. The café was small, luxurious, but homey—the kind of place your dad would appreciate. Jude checked his phone, scrolling mindlessly through the punditry ahead of the match, but he wasn’t paying attention. His mind was racing with what he had to say. When your dad finally appeared, Jude stood up quickly, offering a handshake that turned into a brief, friendly hug. 

“Bonjour,  Mr. Y/L/N. Thank you for coming. Good to see you,” Jude said, trying to keep his voice steady. Your dad grinned. 

“Ah bonjour garçon d'or” [Hello, golden boy] He teased Jude as he sat down, relaxed, but there was a knowing look in his eyes. Jude could tell that he sensed something was up. Your dad leaned back in his chair, his nature was calm but there was an intimidating coolness that lurked. He was in a wool suit in a casual way that was something only older men could pull off.  And so they ordered coffee and started with small talk—football, the upcoming match, the cold weather. But Jude was barely keeping up, his mind racing toward the real reason he’d asked your dad to brunch in the first place. He’d get lose in the accent or the clink of his cup onto its plate being too loud. Finally, after their food arrived, Jude cleared his throat.

“So, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jude started, fidgeting slightly with his coffee cup. Your dad set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, watching Jude with an encouraging but slightly amused expression. 

“I figured.” You dad flashed Jude a smile that almost made him more nervous. “Alright, let’s hear it, fils.” He shifted slightly patiently awaiting what Jude had to say. Jude felt his heart race. This was it. No turning back now. 

“I love your daughter,” Jude said, his voice more serious than it had been all morning. “I mean I really really love her.” Jude babbled nervously.  “I’ve loved her for a long time, and… I want to spend my life with her. I’d like to ask for your permission to ask her to marry me.” Jude spoke quickly all at once and then he took in a deep breath. Relief, it was out but fear lingered awaiting his answer. Your dad didn’t say anything right away, he studied Jude for a moment, his expression softening. After a few long seconds, he leaned forward, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Well, Jude… She deserves a lot of love. A life with my petite fille is a life anyone would be lucky to have.” He cooed gently. “And I have to say, I’m not surprised.” He expressed

“Yeah, I guess it’s been coming but sir, I know how unworthy I am of the situation I’ve found myself in— that Y/N even looks my way but she does, god knows why but she does and it’s changed my life and I want to give her my life in return.” Jude nervously explained trying to justify things. Your dad sighed, his smile deepening. 

“You are very lucky.” Your dad added and Jude nodded. “I don’t know how Y/N speaks to you about our family or myself, Jude. I know she and Louis think I don’t know them thoroughly but I do. There is nothing I understand more than my children. I know Y/N and she is strong. She is very kind but she is malleable. If you put her in high pressure situation she will survive but I don’t want her to have to change to do that and she’s done that often. She always will but I want her to know love. A real love, Jude. Someone who understands what she is, give her a world where she no longer has to survive. Where she no longer feels she has to be pliable or compliant to be loved.” Your dad explained to Jude the dichotomy of you. 

“Sir… if I might…Selfishly I have never put many people’s needs above my own but after I met Y/N my world flipped. I can’t do anything for me without thinking of her. She is it. She is it all. My whole world is completely drenched in her. She has become my world. I do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t have to ever settle for being anything but herself." Jude explained. “I can provide for her. I want to take care of her beyond the logistics of life but provide her that love.”

“You’ve done right by her, Jude. I’ve seen how much you care for her. I’ve heard from Y/N. She’s told me. She tells me more than she’d probably ever admit but I know every fear she’s ever had has been eased by you. I trust you will not hurt her. You cannot.” Your dad told him. The vagueness and calmness of the threat sent a chill of Jude’s spine. “Jude, she is light. I will never let someone hurt her and it brings me peace knowing there is someone else on this earth who is just the same. So you’ve got my blessing, fils. But—” He paused, raising a finger playfully, “I have one condition.” Jude’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Anything,” he said, ready to agree to whatever was asked of him.

“Just don’t ask her in French,” your dad said with a chuckle. “You’re a good man, but I’m not sure she’d say yes if she had to listen to you butcher that proposal. We’ll need to work on that accent of yours.” He smiled and Jude let out a breath he’d been holding. Jude let out a relieved laugh, the tension in his chest loosening.

“Yeah, I thought about that but… figured it might sound pretty rough.”  Jude sighed. Your dad grinned, shaking his head. “Stick to English, lad. That’s all you need. She’ll know how much you love her without the French.” They shared a warm, comfortable laugh, and Jude felt the weight of his nerves ease into something lighter. He could do this. He was going to do this. As they finished their meal, Jude realized that his relationship with your dad had grown deeper than he’d ever expected. It wasn’t just about getting his blessing—it was about becoming part of the family, officially. When your dad hugged him as they parted ways, Jude felt ready. Now, all that was left was the proposal itself.

The stadium buzzed with energy, the tension of the England vs. France match building as fans streamed in. You were waiting in the suite when you saw your mum and Whitney arrive. The moment they spotted you, it was as if no time had passed at all. They rushed toward you, pulling you into tight embraces, both women talking over one another as they asked about your Madrid, the gallery, and everything in between.

“You look amazing, ma chérie,” your mum said, her eyes twinkling with pride. “How’s the gallery? Must be keeping you so busy, I’ve barely heard from you.” You smiled, before answering both questions. 

“It’s going really well. Busy but in the best way possible. It’s been a lot, but it feels good to have my own thing out there, you know?” You cooed. Whitney squeezed your arm, her smile wide. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she said softly. “I can’t wait to visit and see it myself.” Whitney sang. Your mum was pulled into a conversation with someone nearby, leaving you and Whitney with a rare moment of privacy. You glanced around, then leaned in, tugging Whitney aside.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” you whispered, your voice tight with emotion. Whitney’s face immediately softened, sensing the seriousness in your tone. She nodded and stepped closer. “Whit,” you began, voice soft and hesitant. She tilted her head, concern instantly flickering across her face. 

“What’s going on? You okay?” She asked. You bit your lip and took a deep breath, the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on your shoulders.

“I had a pregnancy scare.” But Whitney didn’t gasp, didn’t widen her eyes or ask a barrage of questions like others might have. She just looked at you, her expression soft and understanding. 

“Oh,” she said gently, stepping closer. “Are you okay?” She asked gently. You took a breath, fighting the lump that was rising in your throat. 

“Physically fine. But it… it was terrifying, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. Jude was there, and he was amazing, but I just—it shook me and I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Whit… I just don’t know how I feel now.” You babbled quickly. Whitney’s expression became even gentler, filled with understanding. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. 

“I’m so sorry you went through that. That’s a lot to handle.” Her empathy was overwhelming, and it hit you like a wave. You felt the emotions rising to the surface again, the weight of what you had been carrying these past few days. You hugged her tightly, letting yourself release some of the tension in her embrace. It was the first time you allowed yourself to really feel it all again—the fear, the relief, the uncertainty. Whitney held you just as tightly, not saying anything, just letting you have the moment. She knew you well enough to know that you didn’t need advice or solutions, just someone to understand. You pulled back after a few moments, taking a deep breath.

“I’m okay now,” you said, your voice steadying. “It’s just… a lot. I don’t know what I wanted.” Whitney nodded, her eyes soft with concern but full of love. 

“I’m here for you, always,” she whispered. “And if you ever need to talk about it again, I’m here.”  She told you but a roar from the crowd echoed into the suite as the teams made their way out to warm up. Everyone was engrossed in the intense atmosphere but as much as you tried to get into the excitement, your mind was elsewhere. “Babe… you sure you’re okay?” She asked. The tenderness in her voice was enough to make your throat tighten, the emotions that had been swirling inside you coming to the surface. You hadn’t allowed yourself to fully feel them before now, trying to brush everything under the rug and act like everything was fine. But here, with Whitney, you felt safe enough to let it all out. You nodded, though your voice wavered. 

“Yeah, I’m okay now. I mean, I wasn’t ready. Neither of us were. But still… it was really emotional, you know?” Whitney reached out, wrapping her arms around you in another tight hug.

 “Of course it was. That’s a lot to go through, even if it wasn’t the right time. It’s still a big deal.” Her warmth surrounded you, and suddenly, all the fear and anxiety you’d been carrying came rushing back. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to cry about it to a friend, to feel everything fully, only with Jude but now, with her holding you so close, the tears finally spilled over. You buried your face in her shoulder, your body trembling as the emotions flowed out again. Whitney still didn’t rush you, didn’t try to fix anything or say something to make it better. She just held you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, giving you the space to let it all out. She was so mum coded. It was exactly what you needed. You wiped at your eyes with a sheepish smile, she looked at you with such compassion. “How did Jude take it?” she asked softly, her tone gentle but curious. You sniffed, trying to gather your thoughts. 

“He was relieved,” you admitted, glancing at the floor. “I think he was scared, just like I was. But part of him was upset, too. He told me but I… Like… I think a small part of him had already started to imagine what it would be like.”  Whitney nodded, her brow furrowed in understanding. 

“That’s normal. Even if you’re not ready, the idea still creeps in, you know? It’s hard to just brush it off completely.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I mean Trent and I have gone through this. No matter what you want or what the plan might be it’s an emotional experience.” She told you. 

“Yeah, exactly. And I feel… weirdly guilty about it, even though it’s not like it was something we planned. But I just… I don’t know. It’s hard to shake the feeling that I let him down somehow.” She squeezed your hand, her eyes full of empathy. 

“You didn’t let him down. These things happen, and it sounds like he understands that, even if it’s complicated. You guys are on the same page about not being ready, right?” She cooed gently. You nodded quickly. 

“Yeah, we are. Thankfully we talked but it's…it’s just… I don’t know. It feels like a lot all at once, and I hadn’t really processed it until now. I’ve been so caught up in everything else, trying to act like after we moved on from it,  it didn’t still affect me, but… it did… it does.” You explained. Whitney gave you a small, sad smile.

“I get it. I’ve been there. And trust me, it’s okay to feel all of that. It doesn’t make you weak or wrong. It’s just part of the process.” Her words sank in, soothing the tangled mess of thoughts that had been swirling in your head. You hadn’t realized how much you’d needed to hear them until now. 

“Thanks, Whit,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I just… I didn’t want to freak anyone out, you know? But I couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore.” You cooed. Whitney nodded, her expression full of understanding. 

“That’s what I’m here for. And honestly, I think you’re handling it better than you give yourself credit for.” You managed a small smile, feeling a bit lighter than you had when the conversation began. 

“It’s just… it’s been a lot lately. And now, with everything going on, I feel like I’m all over the place.” She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’re doing great. And if you ever did want to think about that with him, when the time is right, it’ll happen. For now, just take things one step at a time.” The sound of the crowd beginning to rise once again bringing you both back to the moment. You needed to get to your seats. You both started walking, but Whitney’s arm stayed draped around you, keeping you grounded. Just before you reached the rest of the group, she glanced at you with a sly smile. 

“So, how relieved was Jude, really? Like, scale of one to ten.” You laughed softly, wiping the last of the tears from your eyes. 

“Probably an eleven,” you joked, feeling a bit more like yourself again. “But he handled it well. We both did, I guess.” Whitney grinned. 

“Good. You’re stronger than you think.” She told you as you sat down.  As you and Whitney sat overlooking the pitch, Whitney suddenly asked, “Has Jude given any hints about the future? You know, like… what’s next for you two especially after all this?” You glanced at her curiously, not expecting the question. Whitney looked genuinely interested, her brow furrowed in thought, but you knew her well enough to see that she didn’t have any insider information. Jude would never have told her anything—he was too careful around Whitney because he knew she couldn’t keep a secret, especially not from you.

“Has he said anything to you?” you asked, lowering your voice a bit, curious if maybe Whitney knew more than she was letting on. She shook her head quickly. 

“No, I swear! After everything I told you in Paris, that’s all I know. He hasn’t said a word to me. And if he’s telling anyone, it definitely isn’t me or T. Jude knows better because Trent would blab, and then I’d hear it, and you’d know within minutes.” You laughed, knowing that was probably true. Jude and Trent were close, but Trent couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it—especially when it came to gossiping with Whitney. They’d barely managed to keep Jude’s last surprise under wraps, so you figured Jude had learned his lesson.

“But,” Whitney added, lowering her voice even more conspiratorially, “there is one little thing. My Teddy girl—bless her —might’ve spilled something.” You blinked, caught off guard. 

“What? What did she say?” Whitney grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. 

“No, I mean it’s just Teddy being a cutie but the other day, she came up to me in the kitchen while I was cooking and just asked, out of nowhere, ‘Are Judey and Y/N married?’ I mean she’s three now she doesn’t know what’s happening, but it made me laugh. Like, maybe she knows something we don’t.” She smiled. 

“She really asked that?” You giggled, the image of little Teddy asking that kind of question warming your heart.

“Yeah! I had to tell her no, but she looked at me like I was crazy for not knowing. But you know how Teddy is—she doesn’t understand how secrets work.” Whitney rolled her eyes playfully. “I tried not to read into it too much, but I swear the boys tell Teddy everything just because she’ll laugh at their jokes and she’s cute.” You both laughed together, but even though it was a joke, Whitney’s words planted a small seed in your mind. Marriage? Jude? You imagined it for a second—the idea of him wanting that with you—and it made you feel warm, like the thought was something you could get used to. You’d never had a serious conversation about marriage, but the thought of Jude wanting to make things that official sent a flutter of excitement through you.

“I mean,” you said, still smiling but feeling a bit bashful, “I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he did want that.” You shyly admitted.  Whitney raised her eyebrow, a teasing smirk on her face. 

“Oh? Getting sentimental now, are we?” You nudged her playfully. 

“Shut up! It’s just… I don’t know. It’s cute to think about. Teddy must’ve overheard something, or maybe she’s just that intuitive. I mean, Jude’s always been great with her. I love seeing him with her.” You unnecessarily explained. She could read between the lines. Whitney grinned knowingly. 

“He really is so good with her. I think she’s a little obsessed with him, to be honest though. She’s worse than you.” She teased. You giggled again, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you watched the game kick off. But even as you tried to focus, that seed Whitney planted kept growing, and you couldn’t help but wonder what Jude was really thinking. The idea of marriage, of your future together, felt so much more tangible now, even if it was still just an innocent question from a toddler. Maybe there was more to it than you thought. And then forty five minutes later as the half wrapped and the tension started to fade momentarily, you and Whitney found a quieter moment to step aside and talk. You’d both been distracted by Whitney sharing Teddy’s innocent remark about marriage earlier, and it seemed like the right time to address what had been lingering in your mind.

“You know,” you began, keeping your voice low as you watched the crowd disperse, “I never really thought I’d want marriage. Not until… recently.” Whitney turned to you, her brow raised in curiosity. 

“Really? Even with Jude?” You nodded, fidgeting with your jacket zipper, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, even with Jude. I mean, I just didn’t see it for myself. There was nothing really ever there but I made a choice not to be with someone like a Gabriel because I didn’t want a serious plan like that. I knew I had a different path, and it didn’t involve a wedding or a white picket fence. I could’ve had that with someone like that, but I didn’t want it.” Whitney tilted her head, listening carefully. 

“Do you regret that? Like, not wanting it with someone like Gabriel?” She asked not jugmentally just interested. You thought for a moment, shaking your head. 

“No, I don’t regret it at all. I made the choices I needed to at the time. Gabriel could’ve been safe, you know? Like I’d be married now with someone I probably would never actually love. It would’ve been a more traditional life, but I didn’t want that back then. I didn’t want anything that serious.” You explained hoping Whitney understood. Whitney nodded.

“But Jude’s different.” She said. You weren’t sure if she was asking or telling you. You smiled softly, thinking about how much you had changed since you’d met Jude. 

“Yeah, Jude’s different. It’s funny, because now, with him, I feel like I’m in something more serious than I ever thought I’d want. And it doesn’t scare me. If anything, it’s like I actually want it now.” You earnestly confessed. 

“So, you want marriage?” Whitney gave you a knowing look. You exhaled, the words feeling strange yet right as you said them. 

“Yeah. I think I do. I couldn’t have imagined it before, but now? With him? It feels… right. Like it’s the next step because it’s like everything I want is to be his that way. I honestly can’t believe I even say I want to be ‘his’ like before Greece I would wince saying that.” You shyly said with a shake of the head.  

“Do you think Jude’s thinking about it too?” Whitney leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.  You shrugged, a bit unsure but a little shocked at how much you hoped he had. 

“I don’t know. He hasn’t really said anything. But sometimes, it feels like he’s been… hinting at something. I mean, the way he’s been acting… it’s like he’s building up to something.” You confessed reflecting. Whitney smirked. 

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. But Jude’s a grand gesture guy… we’ll have to know ahead of it like come on… how do we not know!” She giggled.  You laughed, a little nervously. 

“Yeah, exactly. It’s like he’d have to have a big plan and it makes me what to scream, but I don’t want to get my hopes up, you know?” You confessed. Both of you a little delusional in hope. Whitney placed a reassuring hand on your arm. 

“You deserve to get your hopes up. And Jude? He’s head over heels for you. Whatever’s coming, I think it’s going to be something good.” She smiled reassuringly. You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort in her words. The thought of marriage, of taking that next step with Jude, wasn’t as terrifying as it had once seemed. Instead, it felt like something you actually wanted, something you were ready for. Before you met Jude, the idea of settling down, of marriage, had felt stifling, like it would hold you back from the freedom and independence you craved. You were happy carving your own path, not tied down by anyone. The concept of someone like Gabriel had offered you stability, but it never felt like the kind of love you could build a life around. It was safe, predictable, but not… right. Boring. But with Jude, it was a kind of love that was everything you didn’t know you wanted.  Before you could say another word, your mum sat next to you, her cheery voice cutting through the emotional moment. You and Whitney exchanged a knowing look as you quickly collected yourselves. You couldn’t let your mum suspect anything—not today, not with everything else going on.

“So, what were you two whispering about?” your mum asked with a teasing grin, completely unaware of the gravity of the topics that had just passed.

“Nothing, just catching up,” Whitney said smoothly, her smile easy and natural. You forced a smile too, your emotions tucked back inside for now. 

“Yeah, just usual Whit and Y/N chat,” you added, glancing at Whitney with gratitude. The game ticked on, and you were grateful for the Whitney. You couldn’t dwell on the scare or grow anxious about the future right now and having Whitney’s quiet support made it all a little easier to bear.

France 2- England 1. The Bellingham goal at the ‘53rd minute wasn’t enough. The stadium had emptied, and the once electric atmosphere had faded into the quiet hum of people dispersing. You sat with your dad in the aftermath, the loss hanging heavy over the evening like an unwelcome cloud. Your fingers picked at your cuticle—a nervous habit you hadn’t quite shaken—and you already knew you’d regret it later when the skin was sore. The stress of the game, the nerves, the tension… it was all too much to sit still with. You turned to your dad, your voice quieter than usual. 

“What if Jude’s mad?” You asked him. The question hung in the air, and you immediately regretted saying it out loud, as though voicing it somehow made it more real. You could read your dad and at the moment he was silently smug about the win, that France came out on top but he’d never tease Jude about a loss like that so as you watched his face change your heart stilled. Your dad glanced at you, his eyes filled with the kind of warmth and wisdom that only a father could possess. He didn’t laugh, didn’t make you feel silly for asking. Instead, he placed a reassuring hand on your knee. 

“He won’t be mad, ma petite fille. He’ll be upset with the result and all he’ll want is to just see you. Il t'aime tellement.” [He he loves you so much] His words were simple, but they grounded you. Your dad had always been able to calm your overthinking, to reassure you when your mind spiraled. And he was right—Jude had never taken his frustrations out on you. After a loss, he sought comfort in your presence, in your quiet support. You felt a little better, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach refused to completely untangle itself. When Jude finally arrived, you spotted him before he saw you. His stride was slower than usual, his shoulders slouched under the weight of defeat. The bright stadium lights seemed too harsh against the somberness of his expression, and you could tell immediately that he was hurting. Not from anger, but from the disappointment that clung to him like a shadow. He spotted you, and in an instant, the exhaustion in his eyes softened. He made his way toward you, not saying a word, just wrapping his arms around you as soon as he reached your side. His hug was tight, needy, and you instinctively pulled him closer, pressing your face against his chest. Jude swayed gently with you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin. You could feel the subtle pout of his lips against your neck, a silent indication of how frustrated and defeated he felt. 

“My angel,” he mumbled, his voice low and muffled, but there was no anger there, just longing. Just a deep exhaustion and the need for comfort. You held him a little tighter, smoothing your hand up and down his back. 

“I’m here, baby” you whispered, your words barely audible. That’s all he needed. Just you, grounding him, pulling him away from the weight of the match. “Did your best, Judey.” You whispered again comfortingly. After a moment, Jude pulled back, though his hand stayed on your waist, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. He turned to greet your parents and Whitney, Louis there too, some of Trent’s family too who stood nearby, giving you both a bit of space.

“Jude,” your dad said, giving him a sympathetic smile as he clasped his shoulder. “Tough game, but you did well.”

“Thank you,” Jude muttered, forcing a small smile. He greeted your mom and Whitney, his voice soft and polite, but you could tell his heart wasn’t fully in it. He was still somewhere between the loss and the comfort of your arms. Yet there was something else there too, just beneath the surface. His gaze kept flicking back to you, as if he was carrying a secret, one that he was keeping from everyone in the room—especially you. You didn’t pick up on it at first, too focused on comforting him. But there was a quiet excitement in the way he looked at you, a flicker in his eyes that told you he was holding back something much bigger than the result of the game. Your conversation with Whitney earlier making you think too much about his glances. The frustration of the match still weighed on him, but there was a small part of him that was already looking ahead—to you, to the future, to the question he had asked your dad to ask you. You leaned back into him, letting the warmth of his embrace settle you. His arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you rested your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming the last of your nerves. You could feel his hand gently squeezing yours, a silent reassurance that he was okay. That you both were okay. As the conversation flowed around you, you caught glimpses of the flickering excitement in Jude’s eyes, though you had no idea what it meant. It was almost as if, despite the loss, there was something he was holding onto, something bigger than football that was occupying his thoughts. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering just a little longer than usual, his grip around your waist tightening. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. 

“You alright, baby?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with concern. He gave you a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but held a tenderness that was unmistakable. 

“I’m better now,” he murmured, his voice soft. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the stadium fading away. Jude’s loss felt smaller when you were with him, like it didn’t matter as much when he had you. And even though the night hadn’t gone as planned, you knew that something bigger was brewing beneath the surface—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on but that Jude was holding onto with a secretive anticipation.

🪩����❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 24 - Falling Into Place xx

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match. 

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day. 

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again. 

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you. 

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you. 

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.” 

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions. 

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks. 

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.” 

“Where is home for you?” 

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.” 

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked. 

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you  watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does. 

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-” 

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds. 

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could. 

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest. 

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again. 

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys. 

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system. 

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something. 

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life. 

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not. 

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her. 

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it. 

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you. 

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now. 

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.” 

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss. 

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.” 

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it. 

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken. 

“Go to hell,” You spit out. 

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.” 

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.” 

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

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[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

5: The Winner’s Guilt (Series Masterlist)

summary: Your father makes another deal, and Coriolanus Snow wins the 10th Annual Hunger Games, but Dean Highbottom won’t let him feel too good about it… Especially when he knows his weakness.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: reader’s dad being a dick, major fluff at the beginning, allusions to sex, kissing, death, mentions of murder, yelling/screaming, mentions of cheating, mentions of heartbreak, italics are flashbacks, bold italics are Coriolanus’ thoughts

word count: 4.4k+

a/n: oopsies, sorry for the long wait 😔 ALSO THIS STORY IS NOT OVER YET, DONT WORRY

Waking up and hearing your father’s nonsense about the Hunger Games was not the best way to start your morning as a mentor. Especially when your tribute had just survived the blood bath by the skin of her teeth and an ally. You really did not want to stay home any longer, but your father insisted that you stay and listen to his thoughts about the games, asking about your own thoughts and strategies on how you were going to get the young twelve-year-old to win.

“Mhm.” You nod mindlessly, poking your food in boredom. You were grateful for the food made by your wonderful staff, but your father was just ruining it.

“Be glad your sickly tribute had an alliance with the other District Eleven tribute. She would have been dead otherwise.”

You hum again, sipping from the tea this time. It took at least ten minutes before he switched the topic, something that made you want to listen to his speech about the Hunger Games instead.

“How are you and that young Snow doing?”

The question was out of the blue, which meant it was attached to something much worse afterward.

“We’re doing as fine as it always is.” You meet his eyes, the weight of your rose charm suddenly becoming prominent. “Why?”

“Can’t I take interest in my daughter’s relationship with a boy who isn’t worth anything?” Your father raised his brow, an entitled chuckle following. You glare at him, gaining his attention back. “You know his songbird won’t win. She barely escaped. And she’s friends with the other tribute who got bitten in the neck. They won’t make it out even if they tried. Plus, I know he would do anything to win, even if it means breaking a few rules—”

You shake your head, “Is this going anywhere? Or are we going to keep talking about the games?”

“Ah, you take after your mother.” He smiles at the memory before switching back to his authoritative tone. “I was speaking with Porcius Creed about his eldest son—”

“Father—”

“---And if all else fails with young Mr. Snow, he would be delighted to have his son wed you.” He finishes, looking at your expression with amusement. “What?”

“I hate you.” You seeth and push away from the dining table, taking your coat and leaving the Lovett Manor.

Your father had been talking about setting you up with another one of your peers after the games. You didn’t expect him to already arrange something without knowing if Coriolanus was going to win or not. Sure, his chances were slim, but you had the hope that he would win, even if that meant your tribute couldn’t. And it was hell knowing that if he lost you were stuck with Festus for the rest of your life. He wasn’t as bad as the other prospects your father had brought up, but there were others more worthy of you than Festus.

Including Coriolanus Snow.

There were several times when you knew you wanted to marry Coriolanus. You could be separated from him for months and still want to marry him. It was something you believed that would never change.

Lovett Manor was filled with the most prestigious families of the Capitol. Your father had invited almost everyone he was business partners with and those in control of the government. He had left little invitations for you to give out as the majority of them were already well acquainted with you through the Academy. Luckily, you were able to sneak an invite to the Snows, having the power to veto your father’s own opinions.

After all, it was your eighteenth birthday.

However, you had zero say in how your party was supposed to go. Your father had planned everything and hired the best staff to make the house and ballroom presentable for your birthday. All you did was watch from the living room and pick out a dress from the dozens your stylist brought in.

And with all the families present in the grand ballroom, you thought it would be best to sneak away while the party was still hot and heavy, taking quick steps up to your room.

Entering your room, you swung open the balcony doors to reveal the vast garden looming over the backyard. You could still hear the muffled songs playing from the ballroom from below as you leaned against your balcony’s concrete railings.

It felt like only a few minutes before someone came knocking on your door, making you release a heavy sigh.

“Yes?” You ask, body still facing away from your room.

“I haven’t seen you all night, beautiful.” Coriolanus entered, watching your eyes light up as you whipped around.

You smiled and let him pull you into an embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso. You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He held you by the hand and twirled you around, admiring your figure. “You look stunning.”

Truth be told, the dress and makeup were truly beautiful. You wore an off-shoulder, silk red gown that cascaded down to the ground, with ruby earrings dangling and shining from the moonlight. Your lips were painted a daring red, matching your complexion beautifully. Not to mention the necklace hanging around your neck, which was Coriolanus’ favorite jewelry you’ve ever owned. But really, he loved the way you looked all the time.

“You look so beautiful.” He breathed almost intimately, his blue eyes now focusing on yours.

You continued to smile brightly, taking note of his matching outfit. You wondered how much Tigris had to spend just so he could look proper at your party. The thought gnawed in your mind for a bit before you snapped back, coming up with a quick compliment to cover your silence. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

A new song started up in the ballroom. A slower song preferably for the couples and single men your father wanted you to dance with. Coriolanus tilts his head at the music, a playful glint in his eyes as you raise a brow in curiosity.

Coriolanus formally extends his hand out to you, “Would you like to dance, beautiful?”

You shake your head with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his. “Of course, Coryo.”

He kisses the top of your hand and pulls you into a graceful waltz. One hand was placed delicately on your waist while the other held your hand that wasn’t holding onto his shoulder. He guided you effortlessly across your balcony, matching the song’s pace. You two spoke about your day and brought up memories from the past. It was refreshing to talk to someone you genuinely wanted to talk to.

“Thank you for the flowers.” You mention, remembering the orchids that were sent up to your room earlier while you were getting ready, Coriolanus’ handwriting scrawled on a piece of paper attached to it. “I love them.”

“I have another gift, but that won’t come until later.” He winked as he spun you around, watching your face flush red as he caught you.

“I hate you.” You bite back a smile, your heart wanting nothing more than to kiss and marry the man in front of you. You promised yourself you could never actually hate him. You knew there would never be a chance where you could have the strongest emotion to hate him.

He let a small smirk slip through, “You love me.”

“Yeah, I do.” You reply with the softest voice.

Coriolanus dipped you as the song came to an end, holding onto you tightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

You smiled widely at him, knowing that he was the only one who completely swept you off your feet.

He pressed a loving kiss to your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It seemed like fireworks went off in your stomach as the actual fireworks went off in the night sky, signifying the end of your birthday party.

“And Happy Anniversary,” Coriolanus spoke when he parted your lips briefly, gazing into your eyes filled with adoration.

By the time you snapped out of your memories, you arrived at the Capitol’s Citadel. You were unaware of how long you were disassociated with the world around you until the horns honking behind you grew more aggressive and loud. As you left the car and entered the impending building, whispers were going around of another tribute’s death. Many suspected it was another one of Coral’s, but you knew the truth and didn’t dare say a word about it.

Soon enough, Lucretius Flickerman announced the death of the tribute.

“Wakey wakey, my Capitol friends! I’m Lucky Flickerman and welcome to day number two of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games.” He introduces himself to the camera once more. “Now while most of you were getting your beauty sleep last night, something scintillating occurred. Bobbin, from District Eight, slaughtered.”

The screen flashed to the boy’s frozen body, the buzzer indicating the official death.

You bit the inside of your cheek, resting your hands on the back of your seat. You glanced around the huge room, looking for a particular blond when Lysistrata and Festus came over to where you stood, supposedly finding someone new to rope into their conversation about the fallen tribute.

“We have a question for you.” Festus clasped his hands together and pointed toward you. You blinked for a second, hoping that he wasn’t going to bring up anything your father recently told you. “Why do you think they wouldn’t show us the death of the young boy?”

You shrug and slip into the mask of a Capitol student with no care after realizing Festus didn’t know what his own father roped him into. “Maybe they lost the footage.”

“How can they? They were live all night.” Lysistrata furrowed her brows, glancing up at the screen. “Something is off.”

“Maybe they’re building suspense, Lyssie.” You silently thank whoever was in charge of the program for changing the camera feed. “Who knows what could have happened. Maybe the death was just too brutal.”

Festus shook his head like your thought wasn’t something practical. “Obviously it was one of Coral’s. Everyone else we’ve talked to said that no one else has moved throughout the night except her and the rest of her pack.”

You zoned out from their conversation as they started to argue more about the young boy, picking at your nails. The sounds around you meshed into one while the Citadel filled with Academy and University students, along with families of the remaining mentors. With your distracted self, you hadn’t realized Coriolanus arrived and was well aware of your disassociation.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Coriolanus slipped an arm around your waist as he left a quick kiss on your cheek. He quickly noticed you being absent-minded, rubbing soft circles in your waist. “What’s wrong?”

You hummed, taking his hand and lacing them together. “A lot of stuff.”

“You can’t be vague.” He clicks his tongue and lets you mess with his fingers. “What happened?”

You tilt your head up and peck his lips. “I love you a lot, you know that, right?”

“I do.” He murmurs, looking between your eyes. “I love you more than you realize… What did your father say to you?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of your father, cursing your boyfriend’s quick judgment. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Fine.” He gave you another quick kiss, unbuttoning his blazer. “What are they talking about?” He titled his head to the duo to your right.

“Tribute’s death.” You loop a finger around your necklace for a bit and then move your hand over to Coriolanus’ left shoulder, gently massaging as he tenses. “Are you feeling any better?”

He shrugs, “Hoping for everything to end today.”

You give his shoulder one last squeeze, “You better sit down. Flickerman looks like he’s gonna murder Festus for standing around.”

“I’ll talk to you later.” Coriolanus removed his arm from you and placed a brief kiss on your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reciprocate.

Truly, you found it strange that Coriolanus became more attentive and doting toward you recently. But who were you to complain about your boyfriend’s sudden increase in affection?

You took your seat as the screen flashed to Jessup and Lucy Gray down in the same spot from last time. You weren’t interested too badly until the male tribute moved to attack Lucy Gray. You weren’t expecting it, nor did everyone else watching as gasps emerged from the stands. Everyone was fixated on the screen as the camera switched to the main part of the arena, capturing the chase.

“Jessup, going for Lucy Gray.” Flickerman commentates, more gasps and murmurs coming from the stands inside the Citadel.

You shifted your gaze over to your right, watching Coriolanus converse with Lysistrata. You knew he was trying to talk his way into getting his tribute to survive, but you were silently hoping Jessup took out Lucy Gray. You weren’t one to wish death upon someone, but the little memory locked in a chest started to break open the more you thought about your father’s words. However, you knew Jessup was done for the second you caught Lysistrata giving in to Coriolanus’ efforts.

She sent a drone out with water, the glass smashing against the tribute’s chest which sent panic to course through his body. Everyone watched as he tried to balance, but he fell over the concrete ledge and promptly died, the buzzer indicating the time of death. You watched as your peer walked out of the room with a broken face, avoiding the eyes of her classmates.

Your eyes flickered back to the screen as you heard the crowd’s murmur increase in volume. Lucy Gray was surrounded by Coral and her group and it felt like she had lost the game as more donations started to roll in for the other tributes. There were positives and negatives to Lucy Gray’s life in the games. If Lucy Gray died now, you would be stuck with Festus. If she survived and won, you were sure you would be stuck with seeing red everywhere, even if you had Coriolanus to yourself.

And as if he heard your thoughts, Festus looked over at you and then to Coriolanus, watching both of your faces to find any change emotionally.

“Oh, look at this! The pack doing what they do best, packing it in!” Flickerman switches his gaze over to the mentors as he hears a computer switching keys. “Mr. Snow going for his community packages.”

You reach up for your necklace’s charm, watching as the horrid drones come pouring into the arena and smashing into the tributes. You were thankful that Dill was safe and away from the chaos that happened within a span of just a few minutes. If anything, you would rather have Dill stay hidden for the rest of the games and let everyone else fight for their lives.

“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes.” Vipsania stood from her seat, all heads turning toward her and then to Coriolanus.

“I’m just sending water.” Coriolanus shrugs, looking at you for a split second in amusement.

Honestly, you were on the verge of letting a small laugh out at his response. Of course, he used the drones to attack the tributes, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them, right?

Instead of looking back at the screen like the rest of your classmates did, you let your eyes train on Coriolanus. He was just so immersed in the live feed and you couldn’t help yourself. His tongue would slightly poke out and his eyebrows would furrow every couple seconds. It would have been cute if you weren’t mentoring the Hunger Games or if there wasn’t a buzzer just now.

When you said you were going to study with Coriolanus, you weren’t thinking that you were going to study for the next four hours after class ended. You studied for about thirty solid minutes before you started to lose focus.

You shifted your attention from the Latin textbook in your lap to the blond next to you. You smiled at the sight. He was focused on reading a passage in Latin that he didn’t realize his tongue was poking out with the scrunch of his nose and brows.

“Coryo.” You shifted from your spot on his bed, sitting up as he hummed. “Do you know you look like an angry kitten when you read?”

“Pardon?” He looked up at you, watching your eyes shine in delight.

“Well, you make a face that looks like an angry kitten whenever you focus on something…” You hide your face behind his shoulder, suppressing a short laugh. “Never mind.”

Coriolanus swore his heart skipped a beat at your laughter, falling deeper and deeper in love with you each day. “Beautiful, I won’t be compared to an angry kitten outside of this conversation.”

“Fine.” You bite back a smile as you peer up at him from your spot. “But I’ll be thinking about it whenever I see you do it. It’s cute.”

He felt the tips of his ear warm at your words, “It’s not cute.”

“It is.” You peck his cheek. “It so is. I’ll take a picture of it one day and print it for you.”

“Again, falling. Ending a tribute’s game.”

Your attention shifted back to the screen as Lucy Gray ran up into the fallen stands and into the air ducts. The second she locked herself in there, another buzzer went off moments later.

Coral killed one from her pack. Despite having an alliance together, she had zero hesitation to turn against someone to prove her worth and not let anyone get in her way.

“Seven tributes remain. Merciless Mizzen, cunning Coral, treacherous Treech. Dill, Reaper, of course, and the little ones. Little Wovey and Lucy Gray.”

You blew a small breath out, watching as Coral and her pack left to get Wovey. You felt bad for the poor girl, but you would rather have them after anyone else who wasn’t your own tribute. You shut your eyes for a moment, but you could sense something bad was about to happen with all the silence filling the room.

“And who do we have here? Ah, it’s ill Dill. Tuberculosis on legs.”

Your eyes immediately shoot open as you hear your tribute’s name being called. You wish she could have at least waited for Reaper to go with her out in the arena. She had no weapon, and it wasn’t practical to be in the Hunger Games without a weapon. You were just praying that no one would see her, hoping that she could get the water and go.

She looked around the arena before taking a sip from the water left by the pack. Dill placed it back down and coughed a fit, something that confused you. She was coughing a lot more than the other day. You creased your brows as she moved to lay down on the ground, continually coughing. You swore she was better before she entered the arena. And if she wasn’t, you gave her medicine to take during the games.

Coriolanus dropped his gaze down from the screen and glanced over to you, knowing the truth of what happened to the girl. He knew that your tribute already lost the games by drinking the water.

You watched as Reaper came running across the screen, shaking her awake before dread spread through your body as he flipped her over. He screamed, looking around the arena.

“No no no no no no.” You mumble, eyes glazed over. “How did that even—? No no no no no—“

The buzzer went off. Officially indicating the death of your tribute. You bit your tongue and left, not daring to look back at the screen where your tribute lay dead or meet your lover’s eyes which were burning into you.

You stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall, holding back sobs for the young girl. You promised yourself you would get Dill out, and you couldn’t even keep it. Mentoring the games increased your hatred for them, but the deaths of each tribute shot the hatred far past the point of return. You wiped stray tears that managed to get away from you, the tears darkening your red Academy uniform. You were about to head back to Lovett Manor when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you, making you freeze your movements. You saw Dean Highbottom waiting for you with what seemed like a videotape in his hand labeled: NIGHT 3, CAPITOL ZOO.

Fireworks went off in the early evening as Coriolanus entered one of the most important Capitol buildings. He was instructed that his tribute was waiting for him inside, but he still wanted to find you. You were not present when he won the Hunger Games and no one knew where you went.

Until now.

“Lucy Gray?” Coriolanus called out in the monumental room, the peacekeepers escorting him waiting by the front. “Lucy Gray?” He called one more time, voice echoing.

He slowly spun around looking at the table in front of him, the color draining from his face as he saw his father’s handkerchief and his mother’s compact. Albeit confused as to why a television was placed amongst them.

“Coriolanus.” Your own voice reverberated around the room, entering the room with your own pair of peacekeepers.

“Beautiful,” He loosened his tense shoulders, smiling at your presence. “Where were you? I—“

“I heard you won.” You frown, walking over to him. “Congratulations.”

He creased his brows at the way you carried yourself. It was different. “What’s wrong—“

“You cheated, Coriolanus.” You glance at the items laid across the table, tapping the videotape the dean gave you against your palm. “You know that’s against the rules.”

“Yes, but—“ Then he cut himself off as he noticed your puffy, bloodshot eyes. He knew were crying for a while if they had gotten to that state.

“You cheated.” You said again. This time, your voice trembled at the thought. “Was I ever going to know?”

Coriolanus kept quiet, waiting for you to continue. There was no way you knew about it… Right?

“Coriolanus, when?” You quickly wipe a falling tear, keeping your composure up.

“Never.” He spoke as he reached out to you. “But it was all for you! I don’t—“

You pull away from his touch, shoving the tape down onto the table. “Play the tape, Coriolanus.”

He sighed, taking the recording and putting it inside the slot, the television coming to life.

The video that was played was a recording from the Capitol Zoo. And according to the timestamp at the top, yesterday.

You couldn’t watch the screen even if you tried. You knew that if you did, there was no coming back from breaking down and sobbing for what seemed like the nth time today.

“Beautiful…” Coriolanus runs a hair through his hand, watching the tape. “That kiss with Lucy Gray meant nothing.”

Apparently watching it happen and hearing it coming from your lover’s mouth was entirely different because you snapped the second he mentioned those three words in one sentence.

“You kissed Lucy Gray, Coriolanus!” You yell, tears now free-falling from your face. His eyes widened at your tone, looking between your fiery eyes. “You kissed her so you could win! You manipulated the poor girl! You thought I wouldn’t find out about this? You gave her your mother’s compact filled with poison and it killed my tribute! It’s not—”

You took deep breaths, shutting your eyes as your heart slowly broke with each second passing he said nothing.

“Do you want to know why I was upset earlier, Coriolanus?” You quickly wipe a tear. “Because my father and Festus’ father agreed to let me wed Festus if you didn’t win. You won, but at what cost?”

He wanted to comfort you, but the second he touched you, it was all over. He knew that his touch would be unwelcome.

“You kissed Lucy Gray when you promised I was your top priority.” You disregarded the few tears that continued to pour out of your eyes. “You kissed her when you promised wherever we go, you stayed with me.” You bite your lip, looking down at the floor, almost whispering the next words. “You kissed Lucy Gray when we were together like I meant nothing to you.”

“Were?” Coriolanus questioned your use of the past tense to reference your relationship status. “What do you mean were?”

You flicker your eyes up to his, “As in we were together. Coriolanus, you cheated on me. And no, we can’t just fix this issue this time or forget about it. You could have come up with any other way of getting Lucy Gray to win, but you chose one that could hurt me…” You crease your brows at the inflection of your words. “And it did. You think you did the right thing, but choosing to kiss someone else to be with another is not how this works.”

“Beautiful…”

“I can’t.” You murmur, unclasping the necklace off of you and handing it over to him. “You can’t expect me to stay with you after you cheated on me. After you reassured me that you weren’t acting a certain way with Lucy Gray.”

He paled as the necklace fell into his palm, the weight of the silver burning his hand like the burden it was. “You know I never meant it like that. I wanted to win for you.”

“I know.” You gave him a bitter smile at the thought of your father’s deal, calming yourself from your earlier reactions.

Coriolanus wrapped his fingers around the hot necklace, watching you become more and more distant with him. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” You replied as the peacekeepers signaled for you to wrap it up. You let out a shaky breath as one last tear fell from your face, getting ready to leave before Highbottom came.

Coriolanus couldn’t help but wipe it off, causing you to frown at his cold touch. “Please.”

You take a hold of his hand, squeezing it. “Coriolanus… It’s not fair to myself.”

Before you could leave, Coriolanus pulled you into his arms, one hand holding your hip while the other held your back. He kissed the top of your head, “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

You choke back a sob that threatened to escape, bringing your hands to your mouth. You knew you had to leave, but it wasn’t like you could leave his embrace. It gave you comfort even if you didn’t want it from him. And he held you. After everything, you let him hold you tightly.

Everything was wrong. The wrong place at the wrong time. And the only thing that both you and Coriolanus felt as you left him was fallen snow melting on burning silver.

taglist: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @psychicpuppyarcade @whodis-26 @coconut-dreamz @cowgirllharry @slytherinholland @lacysversion @perks-of-being-jojo @itzmeme @noodlesketchbook @ohmyzai @upsidedownjill @mizuki80 @unclecrunkle @tiaamberxx @bxtchopolis @starrynightstory @namelesslosers @lugiastark @dangelnleif @aemondsb1tch @witchsbitchestime @ace-spades-1 @ordinarylokix @kookie29 @secretsicanthideanymore @angelscrime @ms-longbeach @rosieleej @alpha-mommy69 @loklaufeysonssgodess @aoi-targaryen @imaginebeingmentallystable @sighsophiia @innercreationflower @cascadingbliss @edb954 @castellandiangelo @lot4ever @nowitsmissing @lookclosernow @bambi-horror @httpfandxms @goobitagoobre @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @captainbabybear @becauseseaotters @mvdhvtterxx (comment to be added)

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[theragethatisdesire]

꧁ rage's library ꧂

hello there, this is the best attempt at a masterlist i have been able to keep even halfway updated. there are lots of little ramblings and musings on my blog otherwise, but all the big chunks of writing are catalogued here. thanks for stopping by<3

DISCLAIMER: all of my writing contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor or ageless blog, please kindly leave my page.

Eren Jaeger

ti penso ogni giorno (a collection)

a collection of one-shots set in a modern au that spans nearly 10 years of your relationship with the cute boy you met at a party in college.

much ado about nothing (ongoing series)

plug!eren enters the life of our stressed out, literature student reader just when she least expects him. in true shakespearean fashion, chaos ensues. strangers to fwb to idiots in love.

scary dog privilege (one-shot)

you enlist eren as your fake boyfriend for connie’s birthday party, unable to face your ex, jean, without the help of your best friend. you forgot one crucial thing, though: where jean’s all bark, eren’s all bite.

quick bright things (two-parter)

part 1 - spending your summer sweltering in the uppermost regions of italy with your wealthy friends, you stumble across a man who seems straight out of a shakespeare play, and who seems to be completely fascinated with you.

Jean Kirchstein

pretty girl (one-shot)

your new boyfriend jean is pretty much perfect, except when it comes to your incredibly vanilla sex life. you make the mistake of underestimating him.

Reiner Braun

a girl is a gun (canon-divergent series, ao3 only for now)

after years of bloodshed and distance, evin finley reconnects with her childhood friend, reiner braun. they’ve both changed over the years, but the string that ties them together seems to have survived the wars they’ve faced. when secrets about evin’s past start to come to light after eren jaeger’s raid on liberio, reiner finds out whether or not love truly is the death of duty.

Multi-Character

aot faves as dads (headcanons)

just my favorite boys with their precious little ones in another, happier life.

three’s a… (poly!erejean uni)

you and eren have been getting more adventurous in the bedroom and roping jean into your adventures. jean’s way too in his head about the whole thing.

show off (poly!erejean uni)

eren notices that you and jean have a bit of a crush on one another. he helps you act out your fantasy.

cabin in the woods (poly!erejean uni)

you and the boys head up to jean's mountain cabin to celebrate the one-year anniversary adding jean into your relationship with eren

drabble masterlist

sometimes i literally just never shut up and sometimes i play ask games so find the result of both of those things linked here.

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

I think at this point everyone has different opinions on each of the Districts and honestly I love that. It's so fun to read people's thoughts.

(I'm sure I'm not the first person to think or say this but) I have a theory on why District One/Two win so many of the games beyond just being Volunteers in a game full of people going in blind.

It's something I've thought heavily about and even incorporated into my own fanfics.

But District One, I think, they win by raising their volunteers to be pretty. They train them to fight, yes, but I think they pull sponsors by making their kids "sexy." In both the book and movie, Glimmer is heavily sexualized. In the book, she's in a sheer gown that shows everything. In the movie, they tone it down but still show quite a bit of her body during the interview. Even the two victors we get to hear a little more about (Cashmere and Gloss) are mentioned to be pretty. Despite being a sibling duo, they're incredibly popular within the Capitol.

But even after they get 'popular' they don't turn down their attractiveness. She still dresses pretty with make up and smiles like she's been taught to do. He's still beefy and hot. You would think if they had any bodily autonomy they would start to tone themselves down in order to get away from the sex slavery.

I think sex appeal is what makes them a victor. Literally. People 'sponsor' them in the hopes of getting to fuck them. They get told that these people are who they're indebted to and most likely are forced into sex as a way to 'repay' them. Everyone says if Glimmer had won she would become the next Cashmere. Which is true. But no one points out how this is planned and a tactic that one consistently uses. Once they win they realize how fucked they are. They don't know they shouldn't want to win until it's over. It's too late to back out. Part of why Cashmeres life is devastating is because Gloss knew what was coming and he wanted better for her. But it happened away. And now they're stuck repaying the Capitol with their bodies.

In Two I think they raise fighters. They put all their effort into skill, endurance and survival. Out of all of the districts I think they do the best at giving them a chance. They make sure they send the best trained, the most skilled and the smartest. Clove is such a good example of this. She never missed her target. (Except for when Katniss moved the backpack making her miss). She was brilliant. Cato too. He was strong and a fantastic fighter. They only lost because the story demanded Katniss win. Hell there's so many moments where Katniss almost dies at their hands only to **magically** get away. (Thresh owing her, tracker jacker nest, not seeing her a few feet away) all of it. They weren't stupid meat heads. They were warriors. Children raised to kill.

I think they delbrately send plain victors. They don't want want to send "pretty" kids. They tone down any sort of beauty their tributes have. One of my favorite examples is Enobaria. She's pretty. And I think that's her downfall. It's mentioned in the series that she wins by ripping another tributes throat out with her teeth. (A popular theory is she was raped and used the very last thing she had in order to get away.) But she ends up getting her teeth filed down. While a lot of people think it was the Capitol, I believe it was her mentors. They filed them down, knowing she wouldn't be able to be raped again. I mean, who would have sex with her knowing one wrong move and you could be dead? She can bite your dick off in seconds if she wanted to. (Not to say she doesn't get booked) It would sway a lot of people away. I think much like Haymitch fighting against Katniss's breast implants, her mentors fought to get her teeth sharpened.

If they're able to I believe Two will alter the victors in order to make them less desirable. One plays it up, Two tones it down winning off skill and merit alone. Any sponsors they get isn't driven by sex.

It's why they win so much, and why the other districts have such a hard time getting sponsors.

I also think that District Four, the last of the career pack, has it's own way of creating victors. They send tributes like the rest but I think they do something different from the rest. My own headcanon is that they send orphans. It's fucked up but if I remember correctly they never mention Finnick having family.

I think they take the kids with nowhere else to go and put them in a training center. Whoever scores the best goes that year. Unluckily for Finnick, he was picked at 14. He was attractive, and part of me thinks Mags played into that to give him the advantage, thinking he didn't have family to leverage. It would have been fine, but then Annie happened. They use her as a control tactic.

I also think Finnick is the reason it was a one and done on leaning into the sex appeal. It fucked him over. Annie was pretty too but she wasn't used. (No one has ever said ah yes she's crazy let's just not rape her, fuckwads do it anyways.) But I think Mags learned from her mistake and played Annie down. Made her less pretty like they do in Two.

It's fucked. The entire system is fucked. But I think each 'career' district creates winners any way they can. No one in Four would volunteer they're disillusioned unlike one and two. So why not send the kids who have nothing, no one to come back to? In Two why not train them and maim them after to keep them safer? In One why not make them fuckable to win? They won't understand until its too late?

Maybe I've overthought this. Probably have. Idk. Just a thought.

[tyttamarzh]

Just some late night thoughts.

For some reason January 21 is a special day in many ways for Missa Cubito…

21 de enero de 2023

Missa death in MCExtremo. In that series he had great character development, at first he was just a scared baby who didn't know the world, everyone had to take care of him, because with the slightest carelessness he would die (literally, they were distracted for a second and Missa looked at an ender and died, because he "did not know what it was"). He spent the first few days very scared, locked up at home, until after dying and reviving due to a bug, he decided that it was time to live that life to the fullest and decided to leave his crib and go out to face danger. He learned to fight being trained by none other than Spreen and Shadoune, learned to water bucket clutch with Rubius and became brave when facing mobs (sometimes recklessly). His new way of approaching life scared Q (it even cost him a life to him to this one) but for Missa it was very effective, because after losing practically 3 lives in 2 days being a scared guy, he managed to survive until day 5 with his brave attitude (even if he survived that day, he was able to reach the final) he was so full of confidence when fighting and decided that now that he was no longer the smallest of the team he was going to protect his friends, especially Q, who was the fearful one of the group now… and that's how he took too many risks and ended up dying, being something very shocking not only for his team but for everyone in the series and for the viewers, really, Twitter was flooded with fanarts and people crying about his death (even Missa said that an aunt called him because she thought something had happened in the real life).

That was very important because before that series almost no one knew Missa Cubito, he was just "the guy who died too quickly in Dedsafio" or "The funny guy who hopefully managed to get too far in siqud craft games". But in those 5 days (5 days of consecutive streams, it was heaven for the missaurios), he won over the internet with the story of his growth and death (Even today people say that the best thing about that series was having the "team vacio legal" and Missa was the heart of that team). I think that was the moment when Missa cubito separated from Missa Youtuber and became her own character.

But that was a sad day, because that day Missa Cubito lost the first family he had found.

This was the moment he died, fighting like a warrior:

January 21, 2024

Llegamos al día de hoy.

Missa wakes up in the QSMP prison and reunites with his family, it was the first time that Missa, Philza and Chayanne were together at the same time since April. Not only that, but he now officially adopts Tallulah as his daughter. Despite the adverse circumstances, his family has finally been reunited and grown (although Missa already considered Tallulah his daughter, now it is official and she calls him dad).

Despite being another universe, Missa is still the kind boy who wins everyone's hearts. Missa behaved politely with the guards, being mannerly when referring to them by saying "please and thank you" and greeting everyone very kindly.

He was very nice with the eggs, even with the ones he didn't know, and he refused to hit Dapper even though he was hitting him, Missa just said: "I'm never going to hit you or do anything to hurt you."

Missa was very happy to spend time with Phil, when he spent a long time losing sight of him, he would ask where he was and look for him.

The moment of the kiss (or the kisses) was something WTF I really didn't think that one day they would kiss and definitely I imagined many scenaries, but in no way I believed it would be that way, but that's what makes it special. They are not an ordinary couple, whether platonic or whatever they called it, whatever they have is special and I guess that was a special way for it to happen. Phil probably would never have dared to ask him to kiss him in another context and that's fine, because it seems like that would be the only way for it to happen (even if they both wanted it, I don't think it would have happened in another context).

It is worth mentioning that the moments of Philza being jealous and him reaffirming that he was married and being loyal to him was something I really didn't expect. After so much time apart, they still have that unique dynamic.

The day in prison was filled with so many things, but I can say that for the first time in a long time, Missa felt fully loved, not only by being with his children and his husband, but also by all those friendly interactions he was with others and that he could not have before on the island, because the first days he was extremely shy and did not separate himself from Roier and the friends he knew and after he only connected sporadically, meeting Foolish, BBH and rarely Philza.

Something curious that Missa Himself mentioned was that the previous times he was with Phil it was more of "ohh I miss you" but they didn't amount to anything more and today he was very happy because they were able to hang out together and do more things bonding with his family.

When he and Chay freed the turtle it was adorable, then the 4 of them doing the tasks, that was a unique moment and he was very happy singing for his family (being so nervous that he forgot the words to his own songs).

His bond with Phil strengthened and they didn't have to do much, that simple moment of the two of them talking about tacos and memes was something very cozy that they needed to do a long time ago. Just as the moment when they took the children for a walk with the llamas was something so sweet for this family that they almost forgot that they were in a prison, because it seemed more like a picnic in the park.

It really was a great advance, probably what happened today will help Missa a lot to grow and leave his self-esteem problems behind. He is important, he is loved and he is useful to his family.

Missa was a trend today, as it was last year, but the big difference is that this was a happy day because somehow, today he got his family back, that big family that he hadn't had in a long time and that he wanted so much and deserved.

The parallel of how he left today:

He is happy, laughing with his husband and children :')

[strawbeerossi]

Fearless

Pairing: Unsub!Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Part Description: Weeks after the incident with Cat and her death, Spencer is left with vivid dreams that make him question his job, his morals, and the path he took to protect the innocent.

Content Warnings: Coarse language, night terrors, mention of masturbation but nothing explicit, unsub!Spencer makes an appearance, violence, death, ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 2.2K

Part one || Part two || Part three

Navigation || Masterlist || Request

Highly anticipated part three and the end of a very brief series. I’m confident it’s gonna leave y’all wanting more for the way I ended it soooo feel free to message/ask for scenarios and one shots regarding Unsub!Spence

Lightning strikes, lighting up the alley where Spencer had doubled over, hands on his knees while he took in a deep breath. Blood splatter was on the side of the abandoned brick building, a body slumped in place.

This wasn’t something that went according to plan, the feeling of rain soaking the suit stained with crimson. He didn’t know what came over him. It was like he was.. He was a shadow of his former self. 

He enjoyed pressing the blade of the knife deep within his victim’s neck, the way blood managed to spurt onto his face. It gave him a rush, a hit of adrenaline that was stronger than any drug he could’ve done.

There was an awakening inside of him, a burn deep in his gut that was almost arousing. He didn’t have any erectile issues, so he was curious on how stabbing a man could bring out such animalistic feelings. 

The man who made an oath to protect innocence, the man who worked for fifteen goddamn years of his life to rid the world of darkness now falling into a dangerous addiction that not even the BAU would be able to stop.

Spencer’s eyes were popping open, a thin veil of sweat covering his face as he was quickly sitting up on the bed, head tilting to the side to look over at the bright light of the alarm clock. 

3 A.M.

His eyes were shifting over in the direction of the body in bed beside him, Y/N’s body stretched out as the moonlight was giving a pale light into the quiet bedroom. Spencer let his hands come up to rub his face tiredly.

Pulling the duvet off of himself, he was quietly getting out of bed. Last thing he needed was to wake his girlfriend up and be at the risk of being questioned. His feet were quietly shuffling on the carpeted floor in efforts to quietly get to the bathroom.

A shower won’t hurt.

These nightmares had been consistent for the past few weeks, ever since the incident with Y/N and Cat. Spencer had killed unsubs before, people who had given him no other choice. They always haunted him, a once young man who was struggling with facing the darkness of his career. As he got older, his empathy and emotions stayed intact. 

Until he went to prison.

Prison made him have to survive in whatever means possible. He’d gotten beaten, he watched another inmate who became his friend have his throat slit in front of him, he was even tampering with a batch of drugs he had to distribute. He had to be strong, not show his fear or weakness.

When he found out that Cat was behind the absolute hell he endured, he wanted nothing more than to kill her. He wanted to watch the life drain from her eyes when he choked her to death, to have that smug bitch succumb to his bare hands. He wanted to outsmart her and win this whole game once and for all. 

Well, he managed to do that, a bullet to the brain being something that he had to settle for. Instead of seeing her face, instead he was faced with yet another dilemma; Y/N. She was a murderer, darkness looming behind her sweet exterior. She lured men in, using her charm and sex appeal to catch them at their weakest. He’d learned it very early on in their relationship, it being too obvious.

No normal woman disappears at all hours of the night wearing the best clothes and looking like a delicate, beautiful doll. He let her do it, as horrible as it was. He loved her and refused to lose her, no matter what the circumstances would be. Prison was hell, he’d been there. He wouldn’t send the woman who he’d fallen in love with to the wolves. There was a sick part of him that loved it. Loved the idea of her brutality coming out with another man and then her quickly getting cleaned up to come home to him.

As he was recalling the night in question, Spencer sucked in a deep breath as he was turning on the shower head. He still couldn’t believe he’d killed Cat. He thought that it would haunt him, that the whole ordeal was going to be nothing but another bucket of trauma dumped in the bottomless pit in his brain. 

However, it awakened something different inside of him. He loved that he killed her, he loved watching her body fall like dead weight, he loved the sight of the blood on his girlfriend's face as she looked at him in pure shock.

There was a low groan that left Spencer’s lips, cock hard at the thoughts of taking care of the one woman who tortured him for years. It took thirty minutes before his thick ropes of cum were going down the shower drain, his sins being washed away for the time being. 

After cleaning himself up, it wasn’t long until he was quietly sneaking back into the bedroom. He didn’t bother with clothes, just sliding under the sheets while his gaze was on the alarm clock again.

4:25 A.M.

Insomnia was starting to set in. Six hours worth of sleep isn’t the worst thing.

The movement in the bed had the other body shifting under the sheets, a soft yawn leaving the woman’s lips as she was slowly rolling her body over to face her boyfriend. “Nightmares again?” She asked in a hushed tone, her soft touch bringing him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, you can say that.” He said softly while letting an arm drape around his girlfriend’s smaller frame. 

“Mmm, I’m sorry.” She spoke softly, face nuzzling in his chest as her eyes were fluttering shut. She wasn’t aware of his urges and Spencer felt that was best. He’d warned her that he’d kill her himself if he found out she was going back to her old ways, yet here he was developing a thirst for blood that he couldn’t quench.

Spencer was a lot of things but a hypocrite wasn't one of them. At least, he liked to believe that to be the case.

The next few weeks were the same. Although the nightmares got more vivid, his blood lust worsening the itch became more urgent to scratch. He felt like he was losing his mind, the need overshadowing any form of reasoning.

That’s how he found himself here, at a bar. He told Y/N that he was going out with the guys for the night, the idea of sneaking behind her back to do the very thing he chastised her for made him feel a new rush.

Getting caught by the police wouldn’t happen but getting caught by Y/N; That could definitely be a possibility. 

After years of being the good guy who caught the notorious serial killers who ruined lives, it was his turn to use every ounce of knowledge he had to avoid getting caught. He knew establishments that didn’t have cameras, even some where you can pay to remain anonymous.

He’d chosen a place where he could keep his anonymity, the woman at the front taking the payment and letting him through, not getting a name nor number. Spencer covered his bases, an oversized hoodie covering his head as he walked into the building. It was a bar, a dimly lit bar that was any murderer’s dream.

He had made it to the bar, ordering a drink for himself as his gaze was scanning over the faces in the bar. It was mostly men and women looking for affairs, there being another building down the street that offered rooms for the night. Now, Spencer couldn’t be seen in the area after they left, so he had his own plan. Tonight was going to be the night.

However, his mouth ran dry when he heard a familiar voice, head snapping over to see his girlfriend at the same bar. What the fuck? Did she learn nothing? Why was she here?

Like Spencer, his girlfriend had urges that needed to be fulfilled. She’d found out about this man in particular from police reports. She stalked him for weeks, learning his routine and secrets. That’s how she landed here tonight.

The couple briefly locked eyes, Y/N’s eyes widening from surprise as she was staring into the familiar honey colored irises. Instead of coming over to profusely apologize, a smirk was pulling onto her lips as she grabbed her drink from the bar while she was leaning over to the unknown man beside her, the two talking quietly amongst one another.

She’d giggle, put her hand on his upper arm, even lean in closer to whisper sweet nothings. There was a burning sensation inside of Spencer. There was jealousy and anger beginning to bubble over the surface. Was she doing this on purpose?

The male was pushing the glass he’d been nursing away as he approached his girlfriend and the man sitting beside her. There was a feeling of power that Spencer felt when he was heading over. “Hey, I noticed you two from across the bar.” He began, that awkward tight lipped smile on his face. “I’m not used to things like this but I was wondering if you two wanted to come with me to the next bar?”

Y/N was playing along, a gasp leaving her lips as she gripped the bicep of the black haired man beside her. “We should! Who doesn’t like making friends?” She asked, an eyebrow raising as she let her tongue run over her lower lip in a slow and deliberate motion. 

Spencer wasn’t gonna do what she thought he was going to do. There was no way.

Like the idiot that this guy was, he was shrugging and agreeing to accompany the two to another bar. “It can’t be so bad, right?” He asked as he let an eyebrow raise, a smile on his face.

Oh. If he only knew.

The couple and the unsuspecting victim were heading out of the bar together, the woman letting her arm link with the attractive stranger’s beside her. The night brought a quiet atmosphere, the streets being empty. The side of town they were in wasn’t too sketchy but things happened there plenty of times.

As they were walking past an alley, Y/N and Spencer shared a glance; one where she was almost daring him to make a move. He took up the dare, quickly grabbing the male by his collar before shoving him against the brick wall closest to them. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to blindly trust strangers?” The woman spoke up while shaking her head in faux disappointment. “Sweetheart, you had such a promising chance!” She taunted while glancing up at Spencer, anticipating his next move.

While reaching into her bra, it wasn’t long until the woman was holding up a switchblade. “Are you gonna be a man or do I have to show you how to do this?” She taunted her boyfriend, smirking as his darkened eyes were focused on her. “You better watch your mouth or you’ll be the next one in this position.”

She should've been the one in this position. After all, she corrupted his mind. She made him push himself into being a man that he feared he would become, the woman being the driving influence of all of this stress and all of these violent thoughts.

As the blade was gripped in his hand, his knuckles were turning white. There was a small voice in the back of his mind begging him to be rational, however it was being overshadowed by the feeling of sheer power the moment that the blade punctured the skin.

“Stabbing someone thirty times would actually be quite tiring,” Spencer inferred, balling up his fist as he was hitting his thigh thirty times to emulate the stabbings in the intensity of the story told through the stab wounds. “You’re right. This would have worn anyone out.” Gideon agreed, the sheet being pulled back as they were inspecting the victim in front of them. 

“The question is, what pushes someone to violence of this degree?” Elle was asking, her arms crossed as she was combing over any reasoning in her mind.

“We need to figure that out.” Jason stated as he was looking between the two young agents. “What causes a psychotic break?

Trauma. Anguish. Pain. 

Fifty stabs and slashes did the trick for Spencer, the knife finally falling out of his hand the minute that the lifeless man was falling like a weight. Did he really just do that?

“Wow, Spence.” Y/N brought him out of his trance as she was bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “You said that I was brutal but look at-”

She was cut off as her body was being slammed up against the wall behind them, eyes widening. Although before she could plead for her case, she was cut off by a rough kiss, one that was enough to knock the wind out of her entirely. With his bloodied hands falling on he hips, the woman was letting her eyes flutter shut as their kissing got heavier, displaying a dark realization.

Spencer liked it. 

As he kept her planted against the brick wall, he pulled from the kiss and let out a huff of air. “We need to go.” He murmured, stopping to pick up the knife he’d previously dropped before grabbing Y/N’s hand. It was only a matter of time before some drunk asshole was stumbling upon the dead body and he’d rather avoid the issue.

Running through the night, the two had intertwined fingers, laughter filling the quiet night air as the realization of their actions had set in. 

The world had scarred Spencer for far too long, it was his turn to scar the world back. This was his chance to reclaim his power and strength after many years of having it slowly stripped away from him.

This was the start of his story.

This was his turn to act in self indulgence, to enjoy himself for what he liked.

The best part was? 

He’d never get caught.

[sketch-twentytwo]

“Danganronpa is the latest and greatest in Killing Game Entertainment! As they are the pioneers of their craft, they try to incorporate bigger and better gimmicks into each season. With the fiftieth season and beyond—the V0-series if you will—came the ‘implementation’ feature! As Danganronpa moved to virtuality to host their seasons, it became possible to program not just avatars for our Players, but false memories, talents, and personalities as well! All of this has allowed the characters to come to life before the audience’s very eyes! “See, there’s a special little agreement that one must sign before the game that’s part of the audition contract! It gives the Player the option to keep all of the artificial junk that Team Danganronpa stuffed into their head under the condition that they win! It’s an optional prize, but who wouldn’t want to keep their very own—very special—Super High School Level talent!?” A single checkbox makes Shuichi Saihara’s world spin. A single check mark makes Kokichi Ouma’s world break. --- Or, the killing game ends, but not everyone is back where they started.

After six years(?), I have finally returned to rewrite my post-game, saiouma fic which you can read [here].

The story follows, Shuichi Saihara after the events of V3. He discovers that the killing game was all a virtual reality simulation and all of his friends are alive, except anyone who didn't survive til the end AND sign off on keeping their in-game memories before the game has been reverted to their pre-game state.

It's a story of self-discovery in the wake of an identity crisis sprinkled in with the frustrating romance of two teenage boys!

It's been an arduous five months of work, but I've come to deliver 60K+ words to you, dear reader! Even if you have already read this fic in the past, I would strongly encourage you to give it a once-over/another chance. I have VASTLY improved the pacing, plot, characterization, and grammar, and I'm quite proud with what I've been able to create! I used to be very insecure with my writing style but in the past six(?) years, I have improved in both my confidence and prose.

Give it a shot, leave a comment, and just let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope to continue working on this after taking a bit of a writing break! :D

(Alt. Image under the cut)

[gulava]

Kairi is Xehanort's 14th Darkness

Now before I go into this, I must deeply express I will not put up with any Kairi negativity in the tags. This is not meant to demonize her or put anyone else on a pedestal in her place. Literally everyone in this series has been manipulated by Xehanort to some extent and Kairi is not exempt from that. We need to get past all these preconceived notions of who Kairi is supposed to be and see her for the complex character that she truly is. And this is a part of that.

Now let's get started.

Xehanort's intentions from day one were to reenact the Keyblade War. In Dark Road, it's revealed that he's interested in the Darkness that survived by disguising itself as an ally of light. It's possible that he thinks Vanitas is this since he hid himself inside of Ventus but that's all...in the eyes of the beholder. It could be anyone. But Xehanort would take this information either way and use it in his reenactment.

But you may ask: Why would he have a fourteenth? Didn't he intend to use thirteen? That was very clear throughout the series. Well, you'll need to watch Dark Road if you still think this. He left out a little something in the other games when describing his plan.

He wanted ANOTHER vessel to experience the world afterwards. Yes, he's incredibly extra as always. We are used to this by now, I hope..

But why is that vessel Kairi?

(dude's literally telling her what role she's to play even if it probably wouldn't make any sense to someone her age lmao)

As far back as the first game, something never truly added up. Kairi isn't given the role to hold back the darkness with the other princesses. She's paralleled to Wendy who is very explicitly stated to NOT be one of the princesses. Her "power" is never utilized a single time after KH1 either...nor is it brought up until briefly in KH3.

And you know...remember that little thing about how the X tells Xehanort where you are at all times? X marks the spot, they say!

And Xehanort REALLY loved making the X wearers into his vessels, didn't he? Kairi had been wearing it as early as BBS.

Kairi was the one who finished this drawing.

Red flags...red flags, everywhere!

By the way, wasn't Kairi's meeting with Aqua a little...TOO perfect?

Why...it's almost like...it was staged!

Kairi already had the flowers she supposedly picked for her. But why would Xehanort want Kairi to meet Aqua and have her be fond of Kairi?

Two reasons as far as I can see.

1.) Aqua is well attuned to the fine art of spells.

Sound familiar?

2.) Receiving a Keyblade

When Kairi runs to Aqua, she touches her Keyblade. This has been compared to the passing of power like Terra with Riku. Personally, I have no idea if it's as simple as this without the whole ceremony but I don't think this would be shown without reason.

And with this, her role truly started. Kairi was to become the new darkness disguised as a guardian of light. She would befriend and become close with a Keyblade wielder and they would strive to keep her safe so she would survive for the world after.

But *record scratch* how is she a darkness already by the time of BBS and how is she able to hide? Before that, let's discuss the princess she took the place of in KH1. You know, the elephant in the room.

Ariel.

Part Two

[galaxythreads]

unhinged, unconnected thoughts about the Hunger Games 1-3:

Katniss is one of The best female characters I have ever read in my life

Peeta is the definition of sad, wet paper man

I AM SO GRATEFUL THERE WERE CONSQUENCES From the games!! Like Katniss has permanent hearing damage. PEETA lost his LEG

Katniss' severe PTSD was so harsh and brutal and so so so good

Haymitch was such a little guy and I adored him for that. What I really liked about his character was that like -- he survived the Hunger Games. This was not a good thing. He was devastated by the fact that his family was killed and the only way he coped with that was by drinking. There was no getting better. There was no magic fix. It didn't just go away. Then he had to train and prepare 20 kids to go fight in the Games just like he did, knowing that he was sending them all out to die or survive like he did, and I have to imagine that toward the end, Haymitch probably hoped they died. It was easier than living

The Capitol was absolutely horrifying

The PTSD from the Games was vivid and it was so nice to see that this horrible bad thing that happened to the characters didn't just go away because they were in another book. Like it impacted their choices forever

Katniss and Peeta about to take the berries reminded me of Romeo and Juliet and I think that was probably on purpose. Neither can live without the other.

KATNISS IS FREAKING SIXTEEN AND ACTS LIKE SHE'S SIXTEEN

Katniss runs off and screams and cries and breaks down and fails and makes selfish decisions and selfless decisions and like she is SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER. Like I Honestly didn't think there would be a female character that competed with Joan Watson for #1 female for me, but Katniss is like. She's up there.

Gale was overall meh to me. He was There, but the emotional impact he had on Katniss was overall... yeah. just dots.

I'm really glad that Katniss was able to heal enough after 15 years from the Games to have kids. She wanted kids, and the mothering instinct is there, but she didn't want to bring them into a world where they wouldn't be safe. But Katniss having kids means that she does feel safe.

"you love me. Fake or real?" "real"

"sweetheart"

I literally did not realize the Hunger Games was science fiction until I got like halfway through the second one and was like oh yeah, yeah this is science fiction.

I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THEY SENT THEM BACK TO THE GAMES IN BOOK 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

like all I'd heard about the Hunger Games was book 1, so everything after that to me was just ?????? and I was SO MAD but it made so much sense from the Capitol's perspective and I so wanted to strangle Snow.

District 13 overall annoyed me tbh, but I did get where they were coming from.

Everything in this series is so heavy. Like you feel the weight of the entire world just seeping down on you and it's actually kind of nice. I feel like the Hunger Games decided yeah, this is a dark, gloomy kinda world and then kept that tone. Books that keep the tone are SO RARE and i adore them.

PEETA PEETA PEETA

BREAD BOY

AMNEISA

PRIM DYING LIKE ???????????????????????? so good. So good. Like the whole reason Katniss went into the Games was to save her and like. She died anyway. Tragedy my beloved.

Katniss being so bad at speeches was absolutely hilarious. She is very much a speak from the heart kinda person and I'm glad that was never "fixed"

I love how a running theme in the series was that they have to document everything. There are video cameras everywhere, recording, always recording, and if they aren't it didn't happen. But Katniss is screaming IT HAPPENED IT HAPPENED anyway. Like with Rue's death.

I love that Peeta is so protective of Katniss, but would wholey hold her bow while she punched someone in the face. Like he's protective of her while respecting her strengths.

this series is dark, but I am going to reread this 4000000 times.

[rayroseu]

I think the reason why Rollo can't attend Alchemy Class is because of Grim since he never has a buddy before...✨

So I have this headcanon that for the 3 years this game existed without Grim Buddy/Alchemy Class, I'd just imagine theyre taking introductory class or some Prerequisites for Alchemy😂📖🐈‍⬛ since Yuu is from another world-- I love to think that TWST's science won't be the same as ours since its coupled with Magic-

THOUGH its really funny that its Rollo that's Grim's first Buddy,😆 the one who's probably had the least time to get to know Yuu and Grim‼️😂 rather than Ace Deuce or Malleus... KDJWKJDJDJS

Although I know Yuu and Grim actually attends Alchemy as shown in Leona's Lab Story though~~~~

My Yuu, Citrine would love this guy, she likes cleaning, perfect for the dilapidated mansion ‼️and he cleans the Bell and Gargoyles consistently right??? OKAYY new cleaner for Ramshackle 👌👌👌✨✨✨✨

I know we're just taking Rollo on a tour in NRC and not yk trapped in Ramshackle with us because anywhere in NRC is filled with magic,,,,, but its funny how he's calm with Yuu (when with everyone else he dislikes talking) because theyre the only Magicless person here ✨😂 The true Yuu stan.... omg? ✨✨‼️

I actually love that he duos with Grim. They stayed true to his character✅ and didn't force him to duo with any nrc student (he tried to kill them??? i dont see him using magic with them AT ALL??) since his whole character heavily states he FREAKING DESPISE MAGICIANS🔥🔥🔥 Or.... maybe I just want a real HATER from this series... (pls never change rollo) XD

these are tombstones I'm referring to-

I think the most memorable part he did was when he plunge us to the tunnel... like WOW FINALLY?? A TRUE EVIL IN A VILLAIN STORY AJDJJA (but i feel like OB Jamil who catapult us to the ends of a dimension is more evil though, I dont know how WE survived that 💀)

i just know Malleus would never forget that falling moment🤺 so upon hearing the news that he's grouped with Grim and consequently Yuu....

And next thing you know, Sebek and Silver are frequently visiting Ramshackle and Deuce and Epel stays a bit longer than usual!!!

Lilia is glad his children are finally hanging out with other people often!!! ✨ and Ace is just confused why Deuce and Epel are iffy about this visiting churchboy, isnt he just another strict "shorty" ???

(Rollo you might be 170+ cm in info but for me youre Riddle-height😭 it fits more✨👌)

Rollo stans are so strong, to be able to make TWST release an SSR of him....🙌✨ I like his pre-groovy art more thoughhh the evil smirk... and his intricate bell staff 👌💖💖 congrats rollo nation✨✨✨

overfeeding him with all the honeys ✨✨✨✨✨✨

[orangepeetals]

YOU BELONG WITH ME ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ (pt2)

(playlist for a star series)

peeta mellark x f.reader !!

pt1. / next part

Summary: Peeta and Katniss have kept their history of lovers during the games, your heart has been going through constant suffering when seeing them together but you are more worried about Peeta’s survival.

a/n: i speak Spanish so the story was originally written in Spanish and then I translated it into English, plz don’t be rude if there is a mistake !! 😞

The following days were torture, you didn’t take off the TV and you couldn’t close an eye, you were alert at all times, you were a total disaster every time Peeta was on the screen, you were scared. You were grateful that Haymitch in his drunkenness was the most sane at the time, you couldn’t think correctly. The girl who was with Katniss had died, it had been so sad that for a few seconds you forgot about Peeta, you admired how noble ‘the girl on fire’ could be, you didn’t think she had such a kind heart.

“Everything is solved, y/n” Haymitch’s voice took you out of your thoughts, feeling the anxiety eat you again, you didn’t understand anything he was talking about.

“What do you mean?” You watched him with confusion, he simply raised his glass of alcohol in the direction of the TV and you just watched, a few minutes later the change of rules was reported, there could be two winners if they were from the same district, you couldn’t explain how happy you were, you knew that Katniss Everdeen wouldn’t be so bad to just do nothing, you weren’t wrong, because when Katniss finally found him, she helped him with his wounds and they found a shelter. You and Haymitch were in charge of sending them things so that they could be cured, although they could not send enough, Katniss risked her life to get the medicine and now you were indebted to her. You tried to ignore the kisses and the displays of affection that they had to show on camera because thanks to that they could both be winners. The rest of the games were still just as bad but you were calmer now that Peeta was not alone, your heart stopped when they wanted to eat the berries, you knew they wouldn’t take this well.

Time passed quickly, all that experience had left you in shock, you were able to return to reality when you felt Peeta’s arms enveloping you tightly, you looked at him as if you were afraid that he was going to break and you overflowed in tears again, he was there, with you, hugging you with love, it was incredible, the warmth of his body against yours made you feel hopeful, his arms were a perfect place to live forever.

“It’s good that you’re alive, Peeta, I was scared” Your voice was weak and choppy, you saw him eyes full of tears and filled him face with kisses, caressed him hair and listened to him heartbeat, as strong as whenever he was near you, you let out a sigh and separated from him. You saw Katniss talking to Haymitch and you just hugged her, you took her off guard but she reciprocated your hug, maybe she didn’t hate you so much, it was a silent hug until you decided to talk. “Thank you Katniss, I will really be indebted to you forever, thank you for taking care of him, you are a good girl, I am happy to know that you will return home”

——————————

The return to district 12 was quiet, you could talk more with Katniss and know a little more about her, even though it was closed, at least you were sure that everything about the romance with Peeta was only for the cameras, it’s not that you doubted him love for you but naturally felt insecurities to see your boyfriend swearing love for another girl in front of all Panem.

You hated having to relive what it meant to win some games, being one of the mentors you had to accompany the winners in various public activities, although as always, you did your best to avoid being exposed, you hated participating in anything that had to do with the capitol.

You were at the party for the winners, you were uncomfortable having to socialize and act as if you were happy to be there, the only thing that gave you joy was to see him, to see his charm every time he talked to someone, the outfit he had made him look a thousand times more handsome than he was, you were holding back by throwing yourself on him. You drank from your glass and your eyes met his while he danced next to Katniss, they just smiled and you felt like vomiting, you didn’t know if it was because of alcohol, stress or jealousy, you tried to act calmly and got out of there quickly, going to a balcony that was somewhat away from the people. The moon kept you company in your anguish, you watched the starry sky as you thought, you thought what a life would be like far from all this, you thought about what it would have been like if you had died in that arena, maybe it would not have changed Peeta’s destiny and he would still be with Katniss Everdeen now, he looked happy next to her, even if you knew that it was all a farce, you couldn’t help but feel bad, you wanted to be in Peeta’s arms all the time as it was before, before everything was ruined by the hunger games. She was a thousand times better than you, you were just smart but too cowardly, she is too brave, skillful and determined, you were nothing next to her.

Thoughts were driving you crazy, you wanted to cry now, you felt bad about yourself, you wished you had died in the hunger games, maybe now you would be free, free from Snow’s hands, free of everything that could harm you. Some hands hugging your waist brought you back, you could recognize its smell from miles, you smiled slightly and turned around, finding a rather worried Peeta, you were not good at hiding this kind of thing, at least never with him.

“I couldn’t find you anywhere, are you okay, beautiful?” His voice was a caress to your sad heart, you nodded and hugged him, hiding your face in his neck and leaving some soft kiss in the area, you felt how his grip became stronger, he caressed your waist and you wanted to freeze that moment, finally it was you and him under the moon, even if it was for an ephemeral time. “You look so beautiful that I could tear off your dress right now, if you allow it” You let out a laugh at the bottom when you heard his words, you messed up her hair a little and kissed her lips repeatedly, you knew that they didn’t have long before they had to come back with the crowd, so you appreciated every second by their side, since Peeta had left the arena they had not had so much time to be together, they were too exposed to the public eye, so they had to take care of their actions at all times and everywhere, anywhere outside their Intimacy, you and he were nothing, that broke your heart but there was no turning back.

——————————————

The uprisings were getting worse and worse, the act of the berries had really left more consequences than you imagined, Snow had them in his sights, he did not believe the facade of the lovers and you knew that very bad things could happen if the situation in the districts did not improve, there were strikes, riots and destruction, people were revealing themselves, they were opening their eyes.

“They should get married” You muttered between your teeth but loud enough for them to hear you, your eyes were glued to the ground while you thought about your words, if they publicly sealed their eternal love, perhaps they could divert attention from the rebellion.

“What?” You found Peeta’s look confused, you could see the sadness in his eyes when he said those words, you loved him with every part of your being but you need him to be safe.

“She’s right, maybe with that Snow will stay calm for a while” Haymitch’s voice confirmed your idea, you felt your heart beating hard, everything wasn’t supposed to go on like this. Peeta nodded and got up, heading to another lane, your eyes filled with tears.

“I understand that this is painful for you, I want you to know that we will do everything possible to take care of Peeta, he has protected me too” Katniss took your hand and stroked your back, you knew that this was also painful for her, she had to marry someone she did not love even having a person who was waiting for her at home, Peeta had the purest soul, he was always going to do him best to take care of him environment, even if he had to do things that would harm him.

“Thank you Katniss, I know it’s difficult for you but you count on us” You hugged her for a few seconds before you got up, you had to talk to Peeta. “I’ll go talk to him, I’ll be back in a while.”

You knocked on the door of his room, you didn’t want to have this conversation, after a few seconds that seemed to be hours, he opened his door, his eyes were red and crystallized, you could notice that he had cried, his face looked sad and tired, you pushed him into the room and closed the door behind you. You hugged him tightly and in a matter of seconds he collapsed in your arms, he was as vulnerable as that time you had to say goodbye to him and enter the arena by yourself, you wanted to end the world and that it was just you and him forever. “I’m so sorry, Peeta, my love, I just want you to be fine, we’ll be fine”

“I will do it, I will marry Katniss, we will do it as public as possible, we will smile at the cameras and when everything calms down, you and I will return to our normal lives, anyway, I don’t care what I have to do, I will not be a piece of his game” Although the blond made efforts to talk without the tears beating him, you knew that he was serious, you knew that he was clever and that he knew that he would always manage to cause some impact on the masses, as you were also clear that there would never be a normality again and that anyone could ever Respect their relationship. “Let’s enjoy this moment, now you are the only thing that belongs to me, you are the only thing I can keep secret without anyone wanting to take it and expose it to the world, my little star, you are mine and I will always be yours.”

His words were so soft and promising, you were his and he was yours, you were willing to leave everything behind to achieve the life you both needed.

———————————————

Here is the part 2!! i really want to keep writting this fic so if u like it, i’ll give u more parts!! :D

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xiv - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,200+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

“Well done, Y/N.” Cassian complimented when Y/N disarmed one of her fellow Valkyrie. 

Both Illyrians were not ones to coddle them. And therefore, compliments were rare. They were tough, but fair, when it came to their training. Y/N appreciated it. But she had also once overheard Nesta late at night snapping at her mate that women wanted more positive reinforcement. 

“Even an Illyrian should fear fighting you,” Cassian added for good measure. 

Y/N beamed at the compliment. After months and months of training with the Valkyries, she didn’t just feel like she could defend herself, she felt like a warrior. 

“Shall we put that to the test?” Nesta suddenly chimed in. 

Both Cassian and Y/N whipped around to look at Nesta to find her arms crossed, her hip popped and a mischievous smile on her lips. 

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked. 

“Gwyn, Emerie, and I have held our own against Illyrians in the Blood Rite. Why shouldn’t Y/N have an opportunity?”

“So you wish to send Y/N to the Blood Rite?” Cassian teased. 

Nest scoffed, “Of course not.” Then she turned to Azriel, who stood at the other end of training ring, working on archery with another group of females. “I propose a contest between Y/N and Azriel.” 

“What about me?” Cassian cried out, as if he were offended that his mate didn’t wish to see him spar with her friend. 

Y/N frowned as she followed everyone’s gaze to Azriel. 

It had been two weeks since he’d tried to apologize to her for forgetting about her to sneak around with Elain. And Y/N hadn’t spoken to him since. Whenever the two were in the same room, Azriel sometimes let an expression of guilt escape. But perhaps only Y/N caught it. 

“Hey, Az!” Gwyn called to the other side. 

The Illyrian’s gaze immediately answered her call. 

“We need you over here,” she continued with an amused tone.

Azriel’s posture was tight as he walked over to them, taking in all of their gazes tracking his movement. 

“Y/N needs a new sparring partner,” Nesta gave, trying to stop herself from glaring at Azriel while speaking to him. “She’s already caught onto Cassian’s fighting patterns. Their sparring is too predictable.”

That was a lie – and everyone knew it. There was no way Y/N would ever be able to fully predict Cassian in battle. He was the Lord of Bloodshed for Cauldron’s sake! She would be lucky to hold her own in an actual fight with him. 

But Y/N knew what Nesta was playing at.

They all did.

Especially Azriel. 

Nesta wanted Y/N to have a moment of catharsis. But really, it was probably revenge Nesta wanted for her. 

Azriel turned away from Nesta to meet Y/N's eyes, silently asking her if this was what she wanted. 

“Scared of me?” Y/N asked, refusing to back down. 

Azriel gave a shy grin, hoping the joke meant perhaps she didn’t hate him. 

“Don’t go easy on me,” Y/N requested. But really she was warning him that she had no intention of doing so either. 

Nesta stepped forward suddenly. “But let’s make it more interesting,” she quickly added. “Why not let both of you use your…other abilities?” 

“Nesta…” Cassian warned quietly.

Clearly, he thought this was no longer a good idea. 

But his mate ignored him and continued with, “Y/N can use her witchcraft. Azriel can use his siphons and shadows.”

Just as Azriel opened his mouth to argue against the idea, Y/N responded with a firm, “Deal.” 

When he looked at her, Y/N gave him a look that dared him to try to talk her out of it. 

Azriel eventually sighed, and gave a desolate nod of agreement. 

“The first to make the other yield wins,” Nesta announced. 

Cassian reached for the wooden practice swords. 

“Hand-to-hand combat,” Nesta called out, stopping her mates movements. 

The rest of the trainees gathered around the sparring circle, buzzing with excitement. 

By now, all of the Valkyries knew that Y/N wasn’t fully mortal. They were careful about using the word ‘witch’ in her presence, still unlearning that not all of them were evil, power-hungry women who drank the blood of the innocents. But they were also curious about Y/N’s powers. After all, she kept them to herself during training, convinced showing any of her magic would scare her new friends and sisters. 

Azriel’s siphons flared blue, almost in warning. 

Y/N smirked. 

Azriel expected her to be timid with her first attack. Which is exactly why Y/N struck immediately, catching him off guard. 

He blocked her punch with the two siphons on his wrist as he crossed his forearms into an X formation. 

Then with a surge of power, a blue wave shoutout and knocked Y/N back with the force. She smiled at the attack, glad that he wasn’t going to treat her like she was weak and made entirely of glass. 

Before she could counter attack, Azriel’s shadows hid him from view. 

Instead of panicking, Y/N calmly closed her eyes and listened. The wind whispered to her, warning her of his next attack and from where. 

Just as Azriel appeared behind her in a blind spot, she whipped around with a hard kick that forced Azriel to his knees with a look of surprise. 

Their sparring continued with limited use of their powers. With every few moves, April’s siphons would shield him from a hit. And in return, a gust of wind would make Azriel stumble back before he could strike Y/N. 

The Valkyries were shocked at how well Y/N was holding her own when she was able to use her magic. It was as if she had been training with an arm tied behind her back until now. 

But then their moves were getting quicker and harsher. Tension and anticipation filled the training ring. 

The Valkyries could see how Y/N grew more and more frustrated. But it was more than that. She was taking out every single emotion she’d been locking away. 

She was kidnapped while just trying to travel and survive on the road alone. They planned on selling her to the evilest of faes, ones who were willing to break ancient laws of buying and selling mortals. She risked her life to free herself, as well as the women and children who had been captured alongside her. And then a stranger found her at her most vulnerable and brought her to a fae court she never even knew existed. She was always surrounded by people – whether it were her new friends or customers. Yet she was the only mortal or witch here. Then she was stupid enough to feel like she cared for one of them more than a friend. And for a moment she was even more stupid to allow herself to believe the feelings might be returned. 

Her emotions took over her mind. 

Azriel struggled to catch his breath all of the sudden. His body felt weak, almost lethargic. Had Y/N cast some sort of spell on his body? 

Resentful. Y/N hooked a punch into Azriel’s side. 

Embarrassed. She blocked a kick. 

Lonely. She used her momentum to send her own kick to weak spot behind his right knee, making Azriel groan in pain. 

Different. She used his pain against him and swiped out his feet from underneath him entirely. 

Confused. She managed to land a punch across Azriel’s face. 

Everyone around them gasped at the hit, both from surprise and from worry at their stoic trainer taking such a hit. 

Lost.

Suddenly something took over Y/N. She wasn’t in control. She raised her arm back to land a final blow.

But suddenly lightning struck the ground, just inches from Azriel’s face as he lay on his back. 

“Y/N!”

The screaming of her name finally snapped her out of it. She blinked and looked up to see all the Valkyries watching her with shock. Not fear. No. They knew better than to fear her. 

Y/N looked down to see that she was kneeling over Azriel, with her fist still held back about to hit him. His nose was crooked and there was blood all over his face. 

To her surprise, Azriel also wasn’t looking at her with fear. No, it was so much worse. Azriel was looking at her as if he didn’t know her at all. 

Y/N’s breathing was quick and shaken as she looked at the burn mark just inches from his face, where lightning struck and could’ve killed him. 

She shot to her feet and backed away from Azriel as if her proximity alone would kill him. 

“I-I-I-'m sorry!” Y/N blurted out before she ducked her head and practically sprinted out of the stairwell. 

Cassian watched her flee and then turned to Nesta with a raised brow, as if he were silently asking her, ‘Are you proud of herself?’

The wild part was that she was. Nesta had a smug smirk on her lips. 

Meanwhile, Gwyn had rushed forward to offer a hand and help Azriel up. He didn’t need it, but he still gave her a small nod of thanks as he got to his feet. 

“I think your nose may be broken,” Gwyn pointed out with a wince. 

He nodded, already knowing based on the feeling of it. “I can align it after training.”

“You are all released for the day,” Cassian called out to the group. 

All the females started murmuring amongst each other at what they’d just seen as they started to depart:

“I knew she must be gifted, but I never expected that.”

“She could’ve killed him. Azriel! The High Lord’s Spymaster!” 

“It was astounding! Remember when she first started training?”

“What is the matter with all of you? She almost killed him! With lightning!” 

Nesta turned to her mate to find him already giving her a disappointment glare with his arms crossed. 

“I regret nothing,” she told him with a proud tilt of her head. 

“Of course you don't,” Cassian grumbled in return. 

Nesta added, “He deserved it and you know it.”

Cassian sighed and uncrossed his arms. “Perhaps he did. But I let it go too far.” He shook his head. “Y/N’s powers may be stronger than she ever realized. And it was just made very clear that she does not have full control over them.” 

“All of you trained Feyre on how to use her powers,” Nesta pointed out. “What makes you think we can’t train Y/N as well?”

“Because she is not fae, Nesta!” Cassian argued with frustration. “She is a witch. Her powers…they are not the same magic of Rhys or Feyre. Can’t you feel it?” 

Nesta was unperturbed and narrowed her eyes playfully at him. “Are you scared?”

Cassian sighed once again. “No. I simply believe we should avoid facing Y/N off with someone who has wronged her – at least until she has full control over abilities.”

Nesta nodded as if she’d won some half argument. 

“Don’t wait up for me tonight. I’ve decided all the Valkyries should finally be invited over for a proper sleepover. Think of how excited the House will be.” 

And with that, Nesta hurried to catch up with the others. Leaving Cassian to watch his mate get excited with the thought of female bonding time. He was sure he’d be kept up with the sounds of their giggles. Or even better, Nesta will get giddy with drink and wake him up, seeking a different kind of fun. 

—🍁—🍁—

Y/N’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking since she fled from training. She could’ve killed Azriel. She almost did. 

After all these years of magic, she had never ever produced lightning.

Now she sat at the fireplace in her bedroom, trying to drink tea to calm her nerves. Perhaps she needed to be sedated. Was she a danger to others? To herself?

A knock sounded at her door suddenly. And it frightened Y/N so much that she dropped her tea cup and saucer. She jumped to her feet, swearing as the expensive china shattered across the wooden floor. 

“Y/N?” Nesta’s voice was muffled. “May I come in?”

It was her house for Cauldron sake. Did she really need permission?

When Y/N looked away from the door back to the floor, the shattered tea had already been magically swept away. 

She looked up at the ceiling and whispered, “Thank you.”

The door to the bedroom opened. But not by Nesta. The House seemed to think Y/N should talk to her, whether she wanted to or not. 

“I was just checking on you,” Nesta told her softly, stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind her. 

“I-Is…Is everyone scared of me?” Y/N whispered. 

Nesta blatantly laughed at the question, earning her a glare from the witch. “More like they idolize you now,” she managed to say through her laughter. 

Y/N stood and fully faced her. “I almost killed him, Nesta!” 

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Please, it would take more than a strike of lightning to take down that Illyrian.” 

Before Y/N could argue, Nesta continued. “Are we done feeling sorry for ourselves? Or would you like to miss our epic sleepover?” 

“Sleepover?” Y/N stood straighter. 

Nesta smiled. “Yes, I took your idea. I should’ve done it sooner, knowing how scared so many of them are to leave the library.”

Y/N gave her a shy smirk. 

Nesta crossed her arms. “So are you coming to drink wine with me or not?” 

Y/N sighed and nodded. 

Without waiting, Nesta turned around and walked out the bedroom. Y/N hurried her pace to catch up and follower her to a parlor that she had never set foot in. Just as Nesta had implied, all of the Valkyries were lounging around the room. Some already had glasses of wine in their hands. And there were plates of food – charcuterie, sweets, fruits, and more – scattered about the room. 

“The House is spoiling them,” Nesta told her with a smirk. 

“They deserve it,” Y/N added. 

Nesta turned to look at her. “And so do you.” 

Then two glasses of wine magically appeared on the side table next to Nesta. She quickly took one for herself and handed the other to Y/N. 

“Try to relax,” Nesta said softly before leaving her side and going to mingle with the rest of the females. 

Y/N tried her best. 

She thought they would all fear her after she displayed such dangerous powers. But she sensed only curiosity and admiration. Many of them asked her questions about her witchcraft. Y/N wondered how long they’d been wanting to be frank with her. 

The more wine that was drunk, the more rowdy the group became. The House seemed to be vibrating with joy, and spoiling them with food, wine, and entertainment. At one point, Y/N’s eyes widened as a group of miniature Pegasus galloped around the room, much to Gwyn’s delight. 

And for the first time since their passing, Y/N felt like she was a part of a coven once again. 

Women started passing out as the night became early morning. Some of the priestesses left the House of Wind to go back to their rooms in the library. But others stayed, falling asleep where they lay. And little fluffy cots started springing up beneath them, then blankets and pillows would lightly fall on top of the sleeping females. 

Nesta, Emerie, Gwyn, and Y/N ended up being the last ones still awake. 

“I should head off to bed,” Y/N quietly announced as she stood up and stretched. 

“Sure you don’t want to cuddle with us in here?” Gwyn teased. 

“Tempting,” Y/N laughed. “But you would understand if you slept on that bed in my room…” 

“Then maybe I’ll come and cuddle with you there,” Gwyn winked. 

Y/N laughed again. “Be my guest. Goodnight, ladies.” 

Emerie and Gwyn said goodnight in unison. But Nesta just watched Y/N with a curious expression, like she was thinking on something hard.

Y/N didn’t take offense to it and left the parlor to make her way back to her bedroom. 

Y/N had just changed into her pajamas and was about to get under the covers when there was a soft knock at her door. 

Y/N smiled and shook her head, thinking it was Gwyn following through. 

But her smile dropped when it was Nesta. 

“Nesta? Everything OK?”

Her face was pale and she looked almost as if she was going to be sick. “May I come in?”

Y/N widened the door and stepped back, silently welcoming her in.

Nesta walked into the room, but stayed standing in the middle of it. Her back was to Y/N, but she noticed how her hands were clenched into fists at her side. 

Y/N walked closer. “Nesta? What is it? You are starting to scare me.”

“I must tell you something. Something the rest refuse to.” 

“O-Okay,” Y/N’s voice shook. 

“The reason you are here, in Night Court.” 

Y/N’s heart was racing with anxiety now. 

“The reason Rhysand and my sister offered you sanctuary here…” Nesta hesitated, her exhale shook unevenly. “Is because Eris asked him to. And the reason Eris asked him to is because…is because you are his mate.” 

Y/N’s entire body froze. She processed the words. Her thoughts were racing so fast, she was no longer mentally present in the room. 

“Y/N, please say something.” Nesta blurted out. 

And then she wondered how long she had been just standing silently.

Time seemed to be speeding fast while simultaneously feeling as if it has stopped entirely.

Y/N blinked and took in a quaking breath. “T-T-That’s not possible. I am not…I am n-not fae.”

“Cassian knew. Deep down he always knew what I was to him – even when I was mortal. But you are a witch, Y/N. And the Cauldron works in strange ways.” 

Y/N could only try to catch her breath. 

She wanted to say it was impossible, that she didn’t believe it. 

But didn’t she? Wouldn’t it explain the strange feeling that rushed through her body every time Eris was near her? 

“Who knew?” Y/N suddenly hissed. 

“What?” 

“I said, who knew?” 

“Their Inner Circle."

Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Azriel, Elain, Nesta, Morrigan, and Amren. All of them had known.

Nesta quickly added, "But none of the Valkyries ever knew.”

“We were basically sworn to secrecy. Eris…he didn’t…he didn’t want you to know. I think he believed you’d be safer that way. But I didn’t think it was fair. You had the right to know.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” Y/N answered. But her tone and expression was cold as ice. She wouldn't even look Nesta in the eye.

Y/N had been in the Night Court for months and months. All of them had a chance to be honest with her, to tell her the truth of why she was brought here. But they didn’t. And Nesta took far too long to finally do so. 

“I am sorry, Y/N. I do not know what else there is to say.” 

Y/N walked to the door and held it open. “Goodnight, Nesta.” 

Yes, the House of Wind was hers. But Nesta knew she deserved to be treated in such a way. She’d let her friend down. 

As soon as Y/N was left alone, she rushed to the windows that were wide open. 

“You knew. You knew this whole time. Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It would have… only frightened…you,” the wind sang to her. 

The way they all clearly hated Eris. Surely they hadn’t taken her in merely out of kindness. 

“What did they get?” Y/N hissed. “What did Rhysand and Feyre get in return for keeping me here?” 

“Eris made a deal…with the High Lord…His future armies…for your safety.” 

Y/N blinked away the tears. That was why they were so overprotective of her. That was why they wouldn’t let her live in Velaris, instead keeping her close at the House of Wind.

It wasn’t out of love or kindness. They weren’t her friends. In a way, they had just used her. 

“I…I-I-I can’t stay here,” Y/N whispered as the tears fell down her cheeks. 

Suddenly she rushed around the room, grabbed a satchel and started packing. 

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let me know what you think 🧡

chapter xv