#that was not true ofc but still when i finally went to her house and played this game i was like !!!!!!!!! :^O !!!!!!!!!!

[niidsch]

Nintendogs Chihuahua & Friends (2005)

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! I really love your work! Please rest if you need to!

Can you please do Donna x Reincarnated!Reader?

So apparently they were childhood friends (who crushes each other but never officially in relationship) but R died and Donna became the even more reclusive as she is. However, decades later a researcher from outside the village came to do some research and she has the same face as R, turns out it was R who got reincarnated. But R has no memories or whatsoever, but frequently got dejavus or dream about the Manor, dolls, and a faceless woman (who is ofc Donna). R feels very familiar with the house and take residence in the manor with Miranda's suggestion. And Donna tries to get closer to R, knowing it is R reincarnated and they were kinda yearning for each other a lot during the times they live tgt, but Donna being Donna, she's too shy and pessimistic with her "deformed" face (eventho Past!R said Donna's past scarred face when Donna was young is beautiful) and she eventually take off her veil and R still found her so beautiful and enamored all over again. Even more~

Also Angie can be the wingman for both of them~ until they both confessed to each other and got together then R remembers everything.

It can be angsty or hurt/comfort with lots of fluff :3

Yesss!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

I know who you were

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reincarnated! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Donna being Donna, fluff, happy ending, as always ;)

Word count: 9,039

Summary: Why? Why is everything in that house so familiar to you?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Tanti auguri a te…

That innocent birthday song was overshadowed by a few claps, while someone, someone you weren't able to make out, blew out the candles on a cake. The number on them was 16, you'd have to remember that.

“Come on D… make a wish,” you said excitedly, happy for the joy of that person, that girl who had no face, who had no name.

“Oh… I…” the mysterious girl stammered, with a distorted voice, an impossible one to understand clearly. “Okay, I wish…”

“No, no, if you say it, it will never come true!” you shouted.

“She's right, Mistress…” another dark voice said, it seemed like a man's voice. “Try to say it mentally.”

“Could Angie also make a wish?” that broken, blurry, dark voice said. Angie, a name you should remember…

“Hey, stranger,” a male voice brought you out of that little nap. The car was no longer moving. You had reached your destination. “Wake up, we're here.”

“Ugh…” you protested, yawning, quickly taking out the notebook you always carried with you and writing down those details that seemed relevant:

16 years old

Angie

“Are you going to stay there all day?” the taxi driver insisted, in an unpleasant way, but with a tremor in his voice that revealed something different, an unknown fear.

You frowned, picking up your backpack and getting out of the vehicle after paying the man, who seemed to sigh in relief.

“I see that kindness is not your thing,” you murmured, still sleepy. The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Not when a foreigner asks me to take her here,” he defended himself, counting the money you gave him. “Let me give you some advice…”

You nodded curiously, putting your backpack on your shoulders, checking that your phone had no signal, so you snorted.

“Don't let the wolves eat you…” the taxi driver said laughing, starting the car and disappearing down that snowy road.

“How funny, look how I laugh,” you said in a mocking tone, with a face of displeasure. “Anyway…”

After taking a look around, you finally saw the village, your destination. As you went down those dangerous hills, you took out the paper you had in your pocket, one that only had one name written on it: Miranda.

Your trip to Europe was not a coincidence, or something you wanted to do while you had finished college. No, it was something different. As a student of plants, of ecosystems, your intention was to investigate that place, one that your own parents recommended to you.

They were scientists. They dedicated their entire lives to the amazing field of biology. As a good daughter, you followed in their footsteps, trying to complete your doctorate with something new, something original. Your parents were the ones who told you about that place, that village where they worked years ago, with another scientist, the so-called Miranda.

Without thinking much, you headed to Romania, alone, willing to make them proud.

“Excuse me, miss,” you said kindly to a villager you crossed on the way. The woman looked at you suspiciously and stopped. “Do you know where Miranda lives?”

The woman opened her eyes and shook her head, walking away from you with a scared face.

“Oh, okay,” you said, crossing your arms, taking a look at that sinister place. Your eyes narrowed while in your head your thoughts seemed to find that place in one of your memories, in one of your dreams.

You may have been a scientist, but not even the most experienced doctor could tell you the meaning of those recurring dreams, strange dreams about houses, dolls, faceless girls...

You had been dreaming about those things for so long that you started your own research. Everything was always blurry. You would forget it after a few hours, so you decided to write it down. You didn't know if you could ever solve the mystery, but at least it wasn't always present in your mind.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice behind you, along with that slightly sinister atmosphere, made you jump in place.

Behind you was a woman, a strange woman dressed in priestess clothing, blonde, elegant, with a smug smile.

“Oh, yes, it's me,” you said nervously, embarrassed by your reaction. The blonde looked at you, without removing that smile from her pale face. “Are you Miranda?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered dryly, turning around and indicating for you to follow her.

“Your parents were very considerate in advising you to work with me,” the strange woman commented, serving you what seemed a cup of tea.

You nodded, staring at the priestess. You weren't expecting a young woman, or at least not that young.

“Yes, and, I, I appreciate your hospitality,” you said pleasantly, tilting your head. Miranda looked at you curiously and laughed softly, sending a shiver through your body.

“Anything for my old friends…” she said in a soft voice, sitting down at a desk. You shifted a nervously, something that the woman noticed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no, it's just that… I, I didn't expect you to be that young,” you said sincerely. She laughed again in a sinister way, shaking her head.

“I suppose it's understandable… The last time I saw you, you were just a crying baby,” she joked. You were surprised by that statement, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Was it a dream?

“Did you know me?” you asked, surprised. As far as you knew, you had been born on the other side of the ocean. The priestess frowned, as if she knew she had said something she shouldn’t, something you didn’t know.

“Let’s leave formalities aside,” the blonde sighed, taking an old file from a shelf and placing it on the table. “The first thing is to find you a place to stay.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, nodding, looking at those old photographs of the village. One of them, an old house, guarded by a waterfall, caught your attention.

It wasn’t just the peculiarity of that place, its beauty. You had seen that house before, in your dreams. You were sure.

“Wait a moment,” you said, putting a hand on the page so she wouldn’t keep turning it. Miranda stopped, looking at you in silence while you took out your inseparable notebook.

A house with a waterfall, surrounded by forest.

A dark forest, a small clearing where there was a grave

A wooden bridge swinging over a cliff

All of those were notes from your dreams. You couldn't stop looking at that photograph. It was that house, that very house.

“Is something wrong?” Miranda asked, while you examined your notes. You looked up and shook your head, rubbing your forehead, which was already breaking out in nervous sweat.

“No... It's just that... That house,” you said, pointing at the photograph. Miranda frowned and approached it, looking at you confused.

“That house?” she asked curiously, her eyes staring into yours.

“Yeah, I've seen it before, I'm, I'm sure,” you murmured, confused, thinking that maybe you were still asleep in that taxi.

“How can that be possible, (Y/N)? It's the first time you've come here,” Miranda said, with a suspicious but interested tone.

“I know but… I, I've dreamed about that house, I'm completely sure,” you said, placing your finger on the photograph, sighing and shaking at that coincidence.

“Dreamed,” the priestess said, with apparent disinterest.

“Yes, I… Tell me, is there a wooden bridge to get there? An elevator?” you asked, without thinking very well about what you were saying. They always told you that those dreams weren't important. Your PhD could be in danger if Miranda considered you a disturbed person.

Her eyes closed slowly as she nodded, confirming your intuition.

“Tell me, (Y/N)…” she murmured, slowly getting up from the desk, not taking her gaze off yours. “Does the name Donna Beneviento sound familiar to you?”

You could barely hear it, but you tried to look for that name in your notebook, or one similar. No, it didn't ring a bell. You had never heard it before. It was a completely unknown name to you.

“No, it doesn't ring a bell,” you said, shaking your head and frowning, putting your notebook away again, trying not to get nervous.

“Mm,” the blonde murmured, sketching a brief fake smile, as if downplaying your words. “Well, I think I know where you're staying… Excuse me a moment, I have to make a call.”

You nodded, relaxing, still looking at that picture while the priestess picked up an old phone, dialing a number on it and waiting impatiently.

“Donna, dear…” the woman commented. You turned your head slightly to pay attention to that conversation. “Yes, yes… Listen to me… No, Donna, I said listen to me. I have a job for you… Oh, no, a simple one… A stranger has come at my request to do some research in the village… No, nothing like that… No, Donna, taci…” she murmured, looking at you, realizing that you were listening to her and rolling her eyes mockingly.

You looked away. Well, after all, you didn't need eyes to listen.

“The girl comes to investigate about plants, fauna, you know, those stuff…” she continued talking. “Simple, dear, she will stay with you. Yes, Donna, in your house… Oh, please, can you just speak up for yourself? That puppet of yours is giving me a headache.”

Puppet?

“Oh, much better…” Miranda sighed, relaxing her tone of voice. “No, Donna, I'm completely serious, the girl will stay with you and there is no discussion possible. Try to be nice, mm? Oh, and keep Angie out of it, at least for a while, I don't want the girl to run away, yet…”

Those words were like a switch for your nerves, making you tense. Angie, that name, Angie, you had heard it in dreams, you had written it down.

Miranda hung up the phone, bringing you out of your thoughts and approaching you again.

“Well, it seems you already have accommodation,” she said, joining her hands, with a slightly different attitude. “You will stay with Donna, one of the village Lords. Not all outsiders are so lucky, right?”

“Lord?” you asked curiously. Miranda laughed in a fake way, nodding.

“Relax, dear, I'm sure you'll get used to this place little by little. Oh, and one more thing… Donna isn't… Well, let's say she's not very well in the head so… Be careful with what you say, mm?”

“Not well in the head? Is she dangerous?” you asked, a bit scared.

“Oh, no, she’s not… Well, if you're careful, of course,” she joked disinterestedly. Your desire to leave the village increased by the moment. “She's a very peculiar woman, but I'm sure she'll be nice to you if you're nice to her.”

“Miranda… Who's Angie?” you asked again, acknowledging that, indeed, you were aware of that phone conversation.

“Mm, I suppose you'll find that out in time too,” she answered coldly, dryly, making a gesture to indicate you to get up from the chair. “Now go, I'm busy.”

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, getting up, frowning. “How do I get to that house?”

“I'm sure you'll know how to get there, (Y/N),” Miranda said, writing something on some papers, not paying attention to you.

Confused, you left that kind of laboratory, looking around for the way to that mansion, to the house that repeatedly appeared in your dreams.

“Oh, excuse me, sir,” you said, stopping a man who was pulling an old cart. “Would you be so kind as to tell me how to get to Donna Beneviento's house?”

The man opened his eyes wide, leaving the cart on the ground and shaking his head.

“Do you want to die, girl?” the villager growled, leaving you stuck in the snow. “Stupid outsiders...” he hissed before picking up the cart again, looking at you with a disgusted face.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, furious at that attitude, or rather, scared.

You walked through the village in confusion, not knowing where to go, not knowing which way to go. You decided to stop asking, since no villager seemed willing to help you.

“Oh…” you said, stopping at an old wooden door with a symbol engraved on it: a moon and a sun. Again, you reached for your notebook. You had seen it before, in your dreams, you had drawn it on one of the pages. “I, I guess it’s this way.”

Your nerves prevented you from remembering, from focusing your gaze on those trees that seemed familiar to you, on that wooden bridge that you heard creaking in the same way as in your dreams. You hadn’t been wrong, that was the way to the mansion.

As you crossed that bridge, a strange feeling invaded you, one that you hadn’t had for a long time. Two abandoned cabins were next to you, two cabins surrounded by stone angels that you approached automatically, putting a hand on them.

“You can’t get me, you can't get me...” a voice sang.

“What?” you asked confused, at the sight of a girl running through that place, a girl being chased by another one. The sensations, the voices and strange images were also part of your life, although never that intensely. “I think, I think I need a break...”

Walking a little further, you came to that clearing, one decorated with a grave that jutted out of a mound, the grave of a girl, Claudia Beneviento.

“Now she walks through the valley of death... How sinister,” you said, reading the inscription on that tombstone.

“I should have died instead of her...”

“Don't say that, you would have left me without you...”

Children's voices came back to torment you. They weren't visions, nor dreams. They were sensations, air currents that carried those voices to your mind, faceless, meaningless voices.

Finally, going up an archaic elevator, the mansion stood before you. It was the same waterfall, the same sound of running water, the same cool, damp breeze, the same smell of flowers. Everything was the same.

“Ahem,” you said, climbing the steps towards that house, meditating, making the decision to knock on the door instead of running away and never coming back. “Hello?”

The door suddenly opened before you knocked, making you step back. A woman appeared, dressed in black, with her face covered by a veil, Donna Beneviento, surely.

“Hello… I'm…” you said shyly, kindly extending your hand towards the woman, who seemed nervous, frozen, with her hands shaking.

“No… It can't be…” a hoarse voice whispered from behind that veil, taking several steps back. “You, you can't be here.”

The lady seemed very nervous, too much. Yes, you knew she wasn't mentally well, but that attitude didn't make any sense.

“Miranda told me I would stay with you for a while and…” you stammered. She shook her head profusely, breathing heavily. “Oh, hey, are you okay?”

“It's not true… This, this can't be true…” she muttered to herself, turning around and resting her hands on her head, moving on herself. “No, you're not here…”

“Well, yes, I am,” you said cautiously, getting a little closer to the lady, risking putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she immediately pushed away with a furious growl. “You… You're Donna, aren't you?”

“What? You're asking me my name? How dare you show up at my house and…?” she stammered, pushing you away unpleasantly. “Non… Non è possibile…”

You stepped back a little, looking at the door, seriously considering turning back. But it wasn’t fear or that woman’s erratic attitude anymore, something else was pushing you to stay, a heavy feeling that fell on your shoulders.

“Oh, Italian… Okay…” you murmured, remembering Miranda’s advice: be nice. “Um.. Io… Sono… Sono…”

“Stop pretending!” she squealed, nervous, pointing at you with her finger “You know Italian perfectly.”

“What? No… Of course I don’t…” you said confused, frowning and putting your hands in a surrender position.

“Of course you do, I… I was the one who…” she hissed, sighing nervously, controlling her breathing. “You… You are…”

“(Y/N),” you said with more courage, extending your hand again towards her, who seemed to stop when she heard your name. “Mi, Miranda has spoken to you, I’m the girl who…”

“(Y/N)? Is that your name?” she asked with a calmer tone, but with her hands shaking as she approached again. “Are you sure?”

You laughed confused, running a hand over your forehead as you nodded.

“Well, quite sure,” you joked, biting your lip, watching how that madness dissipated little by little.

“How old are you?” the lady in black asked, curious, uneasy, but at the same time, more serene.

The question surprised you, but you shrugged. After all, you were her guest.

“25,” you answered in a kind tone.

The lady in mourning sighed, letting her shoulders fall, shaking her head.

“25…” she repeated, in a whisper. “I see… No, it can't be…”

“Um, I…” you said, interrupting her senseless murmurs. “I, I don't want to be a bother, really. I can, I can find another place to stay and…”

“No,” she said dryly, with a brusque, sudden tone. “Mother Miranda has ordered me to take you in, and that's what I intend to do.”

“Mother Miranda?” you asked, frowning at that strange name, that curious nickname.

“Come,” the lady said, turning and going up the stairs, where, on the wall, a portrait of a woman seemed to be watching you.

It was a beautiful woman, wearing the same dress as Lady Beneviento, holding what looked like a sinister doll. A shiver ran down your spine again.

“How cool, it's really cool!”

“My dad gave it to me, it's called...”

“Here, (Y/N),” the woman in black interrupted that kind of feeling, those voices that echoed in your head, pointing to a small room, where you would surely stay.

“Oh, okay... Do I stay here?” you asked nervously, passing by her, smelling the lavender of her perfume, one that, strangely, also seemed familiar to you.

She nodded slightly, letting you pass without taking her hidden gaze off you, you could feel it.

“Th, thank you… Donna? Lady Beneviento?” you said with exaggerated kindness. A growl came from the black veil, as if the simple act of saying her name had been terribly offensive to her.

She didn't answer. She simply left the room, closing the door with a loud slam.

“Well, it could have been worse,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the small bed.

You were too tired to start your research and, after everything that had happened, you decided to call it a day, lying down and closing your eyes.

“You're wrong... Nobody could ever, ever like me with... This, this face...” a young woman said, again, without a face, without a clear voice, sitting next to you in a vague place.

“Nonsense, you are... You are beautiful, D…” you said, convinced of something you couldn't see.

“No, I'm not,” the teenager said, with a voice that was increasingly dark and distorted.

“I, I like you...” you said shyly, looking at your legs, dressed in a strange dress, full of patterns of colors that you had never seen before.

“Do... Do you like me?” the young woman asked, with a distant voice, just as vague.

You nodded, with the familiar burning sensation of blushing on your cheeks.

“I like you too…” that dark voice said, that blurry figure, leaning closer to you. “Even though… Even though we are friends, I… I wanted, I wanted to tell you that…”

Suddenly you opened your eyes, waking up from a dream like any other, of conversations with a faceless woman, with an unknown girl, a conversation too lucid, too concrete.

“Uff…” you sighed, sweating in bed, shaking your head and looking for your notebook, although you had nothing to write on it. “When I get home, I'll have to see a doctor…”

Tired, needing to freshen up, you left the room in search of the bathroom, peeking through the door, checking that there were no sinister ladies nearby.

The house was completely dark and, not wanting to disturb your hostess's rest, you took out your useless phone, turning on the flashlight to guide you around that place.

“Much better…” you sighed when you refreshed yourself in the sink, with that inaudible voice, with that feeling from your dream still very present in your thoughts. You turned off the tap, or well, you tried to, it seemed that the sink had no intention of obeying you.

As if you had a silent revelation, you pulled the handle, moving it gently until the water stopped coming out. It was like… Like you suddenly knew you had to do this, like you'd done it before.

You stood there, stunned, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“There's a trick, you have to pull it a bit, otherwise it won’t close… My parents say that one day they will fix it…”

Again that strange voice passed through your mind, forcing you to put your hands on your temples, which were throbbing intensely, threatening another one of your horrible migraines, migraines that you had since you were very young.

“Not now…” you said in a whisper, knowing that you hadn't brought your medications, that you didn't consider them a priority. “Shit, does this crazy woman have some ibuprofen?” you asked, walking towards the stairs, going down them slowly.

The portrait caught your attention again, that stoic beauty, that sinister puppet…

“Hello? Lady Beneviento?” you asked in the darkness, illuminating the mansion with your phone, getting no answer. “I'll have to look on my own… I'm a researcher, right?” you joked to yourself, passing through the door that seemed to lead to a dining room, one that, somehow, you found familiar.

The musty smell, the furniture, that feeling of loneliness you had already felt. You didn't have to pay attention to the obstacles, you dodged them without wanting to, knowing where they were. You didn't give it any importance, your head was already starting to hurt.

A creaking sound behind scared you, the sound of wood sinking under something, a small footstep. Nothing, everything seemed to be as usual. Everything? No. In a small corner, on top of a sofa that you thought was empty, there was something, something sinister that you recognized instantly, a doll, the same doll in the portrait.

You were born curious. Nothing could stop you from approaching it.

“What is this?” you asked, approaching the puppet, carefully picking it up and moving it in your arms. The sound of the wooden joints caused another horrible feeling of déjà vu. “A ventriloquist doll?”

You examined that doll with curiosity, moving it to look for something, something that would tell you why your heart had started beating fast.

“Why do I have the feeling that we have seen each other before?” you murmured, passing your hand over its broken face, destroyed by the arrangements that it had to have over time.

“Ha! Not at all, stupid! Get me off your filthy foreign hands, stupid, stupid!”

“Yiahhh!” you screamed, letting the puppet fall to the floor.

It couldn't be a dream, or a nightmare, or even your imagination. You had seen that doll move, you had heard it speak. You weren't crazy, you had heard it.

“Shit,” you said scared, stepping back, looking at the doll, which was now inert on the floor. “What the...?”

Fearful, you picked up your phone, pointing it again at the doll, which didn't seem to move. Relieved because you thought it had been a silly thing, you picked it up again, leaving it on the couch with a frown.

“Damn jet lag…” you lamented, passing a trembling hand over your forehead, sighing, watching that horrible doll.

But the doll was not the strangest thing of all. In a corner, on a nearby table, there was what looked like an old framed photograph, a black and white one, straight out of another era. Two girls appeared on it, one of them dark-haired, with hair as black as the night, with skin as pale as the Moon. On her face there was a scar that kept her right eye closed.

You didn't know who she was, you couldn't know, even though she looked suspiciously like the woman in the portrait, a few years younger, of course.

But that coincidence wasn't what made your body tremble again. Next to her, another girl smiled excitedly, holding a teddy bear. You had to look at her several times to make sure that, like that doll, it hadn't been some kind of hallucination due to the time change.

“No...” you sighed, picking up that photo, looking at that girl over and over again. “It can't be...”

You nervously picked up your phone, hurriedly browsing through the photo gallery until you found what you wanted, a photo of yourself when you were little, a photo of a girl identical to the one in that portrait.

“Amazing,” you said, comparing the two photos. There was a rather disturbing resemblance.

A sinister laugh distracted you from your astonishment. You searched everywhere, focused on the doll. Nothing.

Fearful and scared, you decided to go back to your room. Maybe in daylight you could clarify everything.

“Good, good morning,” you said in a timid voice, rubbing your eyes as you walked down to the dining room. The lady in black was already there, sitting at the table, quiet, as if she were a ghost, as if she wasn't even there.

Walking towards the table, you glanced at the doll, which seemed to still be in the same position. Donna's response to your kindness was a simple nod.

“Um... Can I... Can I have some coffee?” you asked timidly, pointing at an old coffee pot. “It looks great. It smells great.”

“You don't like coffee,” the lady said in a hoarse voice, with a soft tone that seemed a bit different from the day before. You frowned, sitting in front of her.

“Oh, well, no, not especially but... You know, college changed my mind,” you explained amused, pouring some liquid into a cup, not having noticed that information she provided, something she shouldn't, she couldn't know.

Donna sighed, playing with her spoon, not wanting to look at you, but at the same time, not being able to not do it.

“Mother Miranda says you’ve come to study plants,” she commented, after a tense moment of silence. You nodded, setting your cup down on the table.

“It’s for my PhD. My parents told me this place could be very interesting,” you explained in a calm voice, still keeping an eye on the doll on the couch.

“Your parents,” she said, completely ignoring your motivations.

“Yes…” you affirmed with a fake smile. “It, it seems that they knew Miranda for a long time. She worked with them in some kind of scientific corporation.”

“But you weren't born here,” she said, with a dark, intriguing voice, as if she knew the answer to her own questions. That made you remember things that you didn't like to talk about.

“No, I… I was born, I was born in… Well, I don't know exactly where I was born. I'm… I'm adopted,” you said, annoyed by that indiscretion. The lady in black nodded with disinterest.

“What happened to your biological parents?” the woman in black asked, sinking a dagger into your fragile feelings, starting to annoy you.

“I, I didn't know them, I…” you murmured with your hand shaking, with the sadness of your past starting to stir your heart. “I don't feel comfortable talking about this with a stranger.”

“Stranger…” she murmured, crossing her arms, as if she were mocking you. You couldn't know, the veil on her face hid her expressions. “You're in my house, you have to show some respect for me.”

“Respect?” you asked, arching your eyebrows. “You're the one who asks me personal things. In my country that's disrespectful.”

“Do you know what is disrespectful?” Donna asked, getting up from her chair and getting dangerously close to you. “Your existence.”

You stood there open-mouthed, not knowing how to respond to that offensive comment, closing your eyes, sighing and trying not to lose your nerves.

“Great, I like you too,” you joked, making the lady turn around abruptly, without saying anything, just breathing with difficulty.

The image of the night before, the image of that photograph you accidentally put in your backpack came back to your mind. It wasn't the best time, but, after all, you weren't doing much to stay in that house. You would have to get out of doubt.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized with a grunt. “I was rude.”

“Me too,” she said, apparently calmer, ignoring your comments.

“Okay…” you sighed in relief, slowly taking the photo frame out of your backpack, looking at it once more. “Hey, who is this girl?”

The lady froze when she saw you with the photo, snatching it from you with a strong tug of her hands.

“What are you doing with that?! This is mine!” she screamed furiously, kicking the floor and tightly clutching the photo to her chest. “It's mine!”

“I, I know, I took it by accident because…” you said nervously, trying to explain why you kept it, what you wanted to know.

“Don't touch my stuff!” Donna protested, upset, with a voice broken by rage and sudden sobs. “Don't touch her!”

“I'm, I'm sorry, but it's just that...” you said, approaching her trembling figure.

“Stupida! What have you come for?! To torture me?! Is it because I couldn't save you?!” she screamed deliriously, unhinged, totally out of her mind. You could run away, take advantage of her madness to escape but... You didn't.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, approaching slowly, trying to calm her down. “Donna, I...”

“Perché?! To lose you wasn't it enough? Haven't I suffered enough?” she stammered, sitting on the floor with her knees on her chest, burying her covered face between them. You, bent down, trying to grab her wrists.

“Please, calm down, please, I, I didn't mean to…” you said nervously, feeling sorry for that sick woman, unintentionally intoxicating yourself with that familiar lavender scent.

“Donna, Donna! Don't do that!” a third voice, which you didn't hear, approached you. “Don't pay attention to this fool. Donna, Donna, sing, sing with me…”

A soft song came out of that black veil, one that seemed to calm her under your watchful gaze. You were so nervous that you didn't notice there was someone else there.

“Fool, damn foolish outsider, you made my Donna cry!”

The voice spoke again, while the lady ran out, crying inconsolably.

“I didn't mean to make her suffer,” you said, standing up, brushing the dust off your pants. “I don't…”

You opened your eyes when you realized there was something strange, someone, something that shouldn't be there. You slowly turned your head, staring in astonishment at that doll, a doll that was no longer lying inert on the couch, but standing next to you.

“No…” you sighed, slowly moving away, your body paralyzed by fear. “Oh, no…”

“What are you looking at, you fool? Have you seen a ghost?” the doll said again, confirming that you hadn't imagined it. It was alive.

“How, how can you…? Oh, no, no, you can't be alive,” you stammered, suppressing the impulse to take out your phone and record that phenomenon.

“You're the one who can't be alive! Stupid outsider!” the doll shrieked, in an unpleasant, shrill tone, walking away from your petrified body. “If you mess with my Donna again, you'll pay dearly! Keep that in mind, Angie is always watching!”

“Angie?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. You had dreamed of that name.

Maybe some fresh air would do you good, and besides, you had to start your investigations.

During the day you walked around the village, looking for those places you saw in your dreams, leaving the plants aside, having a new objective: to know why that place was so familiar to you, what was happening in that cursed village.

The night came too soon and, without wanting it, you were already back in that mansion, next to that living doll and its disturbed owner. The atmosphere was still tense, but something had changed. In front of you, a plate of food that she had prepared for you was waiting.

“It's not poisoned, eat,” Donna whispered, with a voice broken by the crying of hours before, but with a slightly different serenity. You, distrustful but hungry, obeyed.

“Mmm, it has a lot of oregano,” you commented with a false smile. “I always liked tomatoes with a lot of oregano, how did you know?”

The lady shrugged, as if she didn't feel like talking.

It was true that she looked dangerous, that her problems could cause you to have them, but, above all, you had something in mind, you wanted to know why the girl in the photo looked so much like you, why, for so many years, you had dreamed of that place, that house.

“Well…”you stammered, breaking the silence again. “I, I'd like to know something else about… Angie,” you said, afraid of her reaction, looking at the doll, which seemed to be entertaining itself with some balls of wool.

“Angie,” Donna repeated.

“Yes, I… Well, I've never seen a living doll,” you said amused, hiding your fear.

“I suppose you haven’t,” she said, coldly. “If you don't annoy her, she won't do anything to you.”

“Oh, okay…” you said, disappointed with the answer, continuing with that silent dinner, at least until your desire to know, to understand, came back to your head. “So… What do you do here?”

“I make dolls,” the lady answered with a disinterested whisper, leaving you speechless again.

“Wooow, there are a lot of dolls…”

“My father makes them, one day I will be like him”

“Will you make one for me?”

“As many as you want…”

Inopportune whispers echoed in your head, making you drink water, so those feelings would not worsen the tension of that dinner, the first of many others.

“Wow, that's... interesting,” you murmured, feigning interest. Donna didn't answer. She just stared at you through her veil. “I don't know many people who make porcelain dolls.”

That caught the lady's attention, tensing her body and breathing nervously again.

“I didn't say they were porcelain dolls,” she said in a cold, distrustful tone.

“Oh...” you said, regretting your boldness. Porcelain dolls, another entry in your notebook, a recurring vision in your dreams.

Everything was related, there was no doubt. The only thing you didn't understand was what Lady Beneviento had to do with it.

“You knew they are porcelain dolls,” she said again, taking you out of your thoughts, out of the memories of your dreams, memories full of dolls, of laughter, of faceless women.

“No, well, not really,” you said apologetically, pretending that your success had really been a coincidence. “I just said it randomly.”

“That's not true,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair, approaching you with the same dangerous, slow and threatening step. “You knew it, how?”

“I, I don't know,”-you stammered, blushing at your lie.

“No matter how much you deny it, I know it's you,” she whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, one that made you stir, but not move away.

“I, I don't know what you're talking about,” you said nervously, turning your face away so those soft caresses would stop.

There was no more conversation. There was nothing else to clarify your confused thoughts.

The days passed slowly, your dreams became more and more unbearable, more intense, the voices that sounded in your subconscious revealed things you didn't know, words that you didn't understand. That figure, that blurred face of that woman refused to be revealed.

You had so many new notes in your notebook that there were no blank spaces left. But all that information didn't make sense. It was confusing, confusing names, distorted voices, imaginary scenarios inside or outside that mansion.

Your doctorate was the main loser. It was as if everything you had gone to do in that village blurred with time. That was the place of your dreams, of your visions, of all the sensations that remained latent in your feelings.

Donna didn't seem to want to overwhelm you with strange phrases, with stupid accusations like the first few days. Her attitude relaxed, she seemed more comfortable with you, although always absent, shy, distant and at the same time eager to get closer.

She was the only thing you didn't understand, but somehow, that voice, the softness that her hands seemed to have, that lavender scent... All of that started to confuse your feelings, to make you start to feel attracted to her, hopelessly.

“Hi, I’m back...” you sighed, carrying two shopping bags.

Of course, living in that huge mansion could be an order from Miranda, but that didn't mean you could live without giving anything in return. Shopping was a task that the lady in black assigned to you, thus freeing herself from having to face her anxieties, the discomfort she felt with people around.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, getting up from the sofa, stoic as always, nervous as never. Yes, her nerves seemed to get worse in your presence, but the softness of her character didn't show it. It was a contradiction.

Donna Beneviento was herself a contradiction, a very... attractive contradiction.

“I think I have everything…” you sighed, leaving the bags on a table. “But I'm afraid that fat guy doesn't make bills.”

She laughed shyly, approaching you and looking at the contents, puzzled by a bottle of wine.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the wine out of the bag, showing it to you. You shrugged.

“Oh, it's Mastrala wine,” you said passively.

Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“I know what it is but… Why did you buy it?” she asked in a lower tone, getting a little closer to you, giving the bottle back to you.

“Oh, I hope you don't mind. The Duke had that bottle there, and… I don't know, I don't really like wine but I thought I could do something with it,” you said, placing that bottle on the table, one bottled that, since you saw it, caught your attention.

“Something?” the lady in black asked, her voice shaking and her hands playing erratically with each other.

“Yes, well, I was thinking of making something sweet, maybe…”

“Zabaione,” you said, but so did she. You two spoke at the same time, you said the same thing. It was a strange, tense moment, one that made you blink several times.

“Y-yes… Right, right…” you sighed confused, your head claiming your attention again. “Um… Well, I, I guess you like them…”

“Of course she likes them!” Angie interrupted, comically pushing Donna closer to you. “She makes them well, very well, don’t you Donna?”

“I, I guess so,” the lady in black murmured, kicking the doll, who laughed amusedly. You still hadn't gotten used to the puppet, but deep down, you liked it.

“Great, I'll make them right away,” you said, wanting to leave the room before the shadows of the unknown lurked again.

“Why don't you make them together? It could be funny,” the doll suggested, with a strange laugh

“Angie, no…” Donna said head down, with an embarrassed tone for the doll's increasingly less subtle impudence. It was as if Angie knew that something had started to grow between you two.

“Eh, it's true, why not?” you said, rubbing your hands. “But I warn you that I'm quite an expert. Since I was little I made them perfect.”

“Yes, that... That would be... Good,” the lady stammered, guiding you towards the kitchen.

As you entered that dark room, more memories, sensations that you lived in your dreams began to haunt you.

“Stop adding sugar or it will be too sweet”

“Just a little more…”

“(Y/N),” the hoarse voice of the lady in black blurred the voices in your head. “The sugar is in…”

You looked down, automatically opening the door of a cupboard, taking out the sugar packet, without really knowing how. How could you know it was there?

“Here,” you said in a small voice, a bit confused, more than usual. “Um… I'm going, I'm going to get the yolks.”

Cooking with the lady in black seemed like a good candidate to be your favorite hobby. Donna laughed while you talked about anything, about college experiences, about your travels… Everything seemed like a gift to her, like a sweet melody that calmed her spirit. Her soft laugh, her shy words and that sweet accent, also calmed yours.

“Perfect, I told you so,” you said, admiring the result with satisfaction. “I can't wait to try them.”

“You were always so impatient,” ​​Donna whispered, wiping her hands with a rag, leaving you again with a loose wire, speaking to you in the past tense, as if she already knew you, as if she did one day.

“It's one of my flaws, yes,” you murmured in a less euphoric tone, helping her to clean up the kitchen. “What do we do with the egg whites?”

“The egg whites? Oh, well, maybe I could make a…”

“Meringue, I love meringue,” you interrupted, with an innocent smile. She nodded, sighing sadly. “My mother used to make it, but I constantly annoyed her, always…”

“You always stuck your finger on it,” Donna finished your sentence again. Once again, you couldn't deny the evidence. She knew too much.

“Y-Yes…” you affirmed, nodding slowly, with a cold sweat running down your forehead.

“You could never stay still, Olga,” she said, making you frown, blinking several times, thinking you had heard wrong.

“Olga?” you asked confused. You didn't remember that name in your notebook, or in your dreams. More problems, more unanswered questions.

Donna looked at you, but then pulled away, shaking her head.

“I'm sorry, I’ve made a mistake,” she said in a very low tone, one that was regretful and broken. “Take the sweets upstairs, I'll make some tea.”

“Okay, but…” you said, seeing how the lady seemed to tremble again, how one of her crises was about to ruin a wonderful afternoon. “Should I help you?”

“No,” she growled, clenching her fists tightly. “Go away.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, putting a hand on her back, one that she rejected, moving violently.

“Vai via!” she shrieked, making you, resigned, obey, taking the tray with the sweets and leaving the lady alone, beginning to sob.

You waited a while for her to go up again, with the annoying Angie dancing around you.

“Hey, Angie, who's Olga?” you asked, picking up the puppet from the floor, causing it to kick violently.

“Let me go, you rude girl!” she shrieked. “Have you never looked yourself in a mirror?”

You obeyed with a frown, knowing that you would never get an answer from that irreverent puppet. Luckily, Donna soon appeared.

The taste of those sweets along with the tea transported you to an unknown place, recognizing the mixture of the darkness of the house, the humidity, the steaming tea, those delicious sweets...

“Even though you're my friend, I... I, I want, I want to tell you that...”

“Come on, talk”

“I know it won't come true if I say it, but, but... My birthday wish has been... To give you, to give you a kiss...”

That image appeared in your head, the image of that strange dream, of that blurry woman who slowly approached you, placing her blurry lips on yours. You even brought your hand to your mouth, believing you had felt that kiss, you had noticed the softness of those unknown lips.

“(Y/N),” Donna, who had remained silent until that moment, spoke to you. The sensation of that kiss disappeared with her words. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you in the kitchen.”

“No, well, it's okay,” you said, trying one of those sweets, much less pleasant than that imaginary kiss. “We all make mistakes.”

“I haven't made a mistake,” she said in a more serious tone, with her cup of tea shaking in her hands. “Do you remember the photo you stole from me?”

“Oh, I didn't steal anything from you, I took it by accident and…” you said, getting scared by that cold attitude, one that she hadn't had with you for a long time.

“Taci, I'm talking,” she protested, nervous.

You nodded, eating slowly, bringing your cup to your lips so as not to say more nonsense.

“The, the girl was… She was…” she said, her voice breaking. “Olga, she was my best friend, the only one, in fact…” she explained, causing your heart to beat faster for no reason. “Let me ask you a question, (Y/N).”

“Mm,” you murmured, interested in that conversation, afraid to say why that girl, Olga, seemed so curious to you.

“I know you don't like to talk about it but… What is your first memory?” she asked in a mysterious, studious voice. You gulped down the tea, embarrassed by the answer.

“You're not the first one to ask me, the, the kids at school laughed at me when I answered,” you said amused, but nervous.

“I'm not going to laugh,” Donna said, with a serious tone, with one that said under that black veil, there was no smile. “Answer, per favore.”

“T, the truth is… It's not exactly a memory... It was more like a dream,” you said, lowering the tone of your voice, immersing yourself in your thoughts, in the dream that was the first, the first of hundreds of them.

She nodded for you to continue.

“Well, I dreamed that I was surrounded… I don't know, by some kind of black branches… I know it was cold, I remember the cold and…  I, I don't know, suddenly my parents appeared and… I, I woke up… Or so I think.”

“Mm,” she murmured, calmly placing her cup of tea down. “Do you usually have those kinds of dreams?”

“Not exactly,” you said, with a serious tone, frowning, ready to reveal for the first time, your concerns, feeling strangely safe next to Donna, comfortable, even… Happy. “This, this will seem crazy to you but… I… I have been here before. I mean, before I arrived… I couldn’t explain why but I… I already knew this place, this house…”

“Did you know me?” she asked suddenly, not surprised by what you were saying, something that confused you even more.

“No, I'm sorry... I've never, ever dreamed about you,” you said, sure of your words.

“I've been dreaming about you for over 30 years,” she whispered in a sad tone. “Since I lost you.”

“30 years?” you asked confused, with a burning sensation in your chest, with all those unknown voices wandering through your mind, overwhelming you, making you tremble. “But, but that's impossible, I... I'm 25 and...”

The lady in black didn't answer, she simply moved her hand to the veil that covered her face, moving it away, letting it fall on the table. She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, the woman in the portrait, the girl in the photograph. Dark hair, pale skin, one eye, the other hidden by a horrible scar.

You, absorbed by her beauty, by discovering the appearance of that woman for whom you were beginning to have feelings, stood still, studying her features.

“You are… You are beautiful,” you stammered, with a different feeling in your chest, with a deep, sonorous beat, a different one, not nervous, but excited. The voices fell silent, the thoughts of your dreams stopped appearing. In your mind, there was only Donna.

The lady in black, letting a tear slide down her cheek, shook her head.

“You still don't remember me,” she said, lowering her gaze, desperate not to make you understand what she wanted to say, that missing piece in the puzzle of your mind.

“No, I'm, I'm sorry… I don't know why I would have to remember you… I, I don't know what I'm doing here, I…” you said, overwhelmed by the situation, nervous, with an imminent anxiety attack. “Hey, Donna, I, I had a good time with you but, but, I think, I think it's better that I go before I lose my mind.”

“Don't go,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair at the same time as you. “Don't go, please.”

“I, I don't know what's going on, why, why do I feel like I should be here and at the same time I shouldn't. I don't know why... I, I can't stand it anymore,” you said, shaking your head, with a crazy look, walking towards the entrance. A strong grip on your wrist prevented you from doing so.

“Even at the risk of losing you once again, I can't let you go without first... Without first fulfilling my wish again,” she sobbed, approaching you. You shook your head, crying too, too nervous.

“Your birthday wish,” you said without thinking, remembering that recurring dream, that kiss that a few moments ago you thought you felt on your lips. You went pale, with your eyes wide open, paralyzed.

The lady in black nodded, running her hand over your cheek, getting closer, closing her one eye before closing the distance between you, before kissing you slowly, with soft lips.

A shock went through your body. A tremor nullified the mobility of your muscles while your brain ran through all the images of your life, all your dreams, your dèjá vu. There were no longer blurred figures, incomplete sentences. The truth was revealed in your mind.

“Blow out the candles, Donna”

“Olga, do you think I'm beautiful?”

“I like you, Donna”

“I want us to be friends forever…”

“I have something to tell you”

“I liked kissing you, tell me you'll come back tomorrow”

“I'll come back tomorrow…”

The woman without a face, that blurred figure, was no longer one. Black hair, a scar, a melodic accent, a soft voice, a dazzling smile, the smell of lavender…

Donna, it was her, she was the mysterious woman, that woman of your dreams, that little girl who played with you, that young woman who kissed you that rainy afternoon, that afternoon after which, you couldn't remember, or dream anything.

Endless experiences, memories, clouded your thoughts while her lips kissed you, while that feeling of having done that before invaded you, telling you that it was true, that you were madly in love with her, with your best friend, that you kissed her, that she kissed you, that that afternoon you came home and everything went black.

Family, friends, a strange cult, the figure of Mother Miranda... Your whole life passed through your thoughts. But it wasn't yours, it couldn't be yours.

“Oh, Christine, look at that...”

“My God, it's a baby...”

“Where did it come from? Poor girl...”

“Look at that, it's the mold...”

“God, what does this mean?”

“I, I don't know, but, we can't leave her here...”

The voices of your adoptive parents were the last thing you heard before opening your eyes, before pulling away from that warm kiss. As if drugged, as if you were very far from that place, you brought your hands to the brunette's face, looking at it again and again, with the salty taste of your tears still on your lips. Donna, it was Donna, it was that girl you loved, the one you loved once, in another life.

“Donna… It's you…” you sighed, confused but sure of what you saw, of what you felt. That attraction for the lady in black disappeared under a sea of ​​love, of feelings that had remained locked away for too long. “My God, Donna, I, I remember you.”

“Do you remember me?” she asked confused, letting herself be caressed by your trembling hands, getting closer, studying your lost gaze.

“I, I don't know why but… I… I…” you said nervously, smiling involuntarily, drawing her towards you to kiss her again. “I, I, I loved you, I loved you even without knowing you, I knew I loved you…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I could never tell you… You, you left before I could tell you how, how in love I was with you.”

“I… I died, right?” you asked, unable to stop caressing her, unable to stop smelling that lavender scent, her scent, the scent of the unknown love of your life.

“Yes, you… You, you fell off a cliff… And… I… I was left so alone…” she said, kissing you desperately.

Everything fit, even your irrational hatred of heights.

“I, I don't know how to understand this… I, I’m (Y/N). I’m, I'm not Olga…” you said nervously again, grabbing her sweaty hands, losing yourself in the softness of her skin. “I will never, never be.”

“So…” she whispered, moving away from your touch, sobbing heartbreakingly. “Even knowing, knowing who you really are… You, you will leave.”

“I don't know who I am, or who I was… I just, I just know that… That I love you. It’s the only thing I'm sure of right now.”

“Who loves me?” Donna asked abruptly, with her lips pressed together, with a fury shining in her eye.

“I love you,” you whispered, lowering your head, not wanting to think that you had been reincarnated, that you were never (Y/N), that you were a projection of a girl who died, who ceased to exist, and then came back.

“Who are you, (Y/N)?” she asked again, coming closer timidly, taking your hands, playing with them, hoping to hear an answer that wasn't a rejection.

“I, I guess if… If I want to know… I'll have to, I'll have to stay with you,” you whispered softly, pulling on her waist, kissing her again, wanting to feel those soft lips on yours again, and forever.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, pulling away, crying just like you, confused, just like you, but in love... Just like you. “You, you don't know me. (Y/N) doesn't know me.”

“Of course I know you,” you said smiling. “You've been living in my dreams for a long time.”

[ladyxskywalker]

In Exile, ch.iii

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

after a tense encounter in the mountains, anakin falls asleep by the waterfalls, completely exhausted of his power. but what he doesn’t expect, is for his kind lady friend to find him there

part one | part two | part four

a choose your own outcome story ! weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter ! hope you enjoy !💌

Dreams

He could only remember all the ways the entire mountain shook, an all consuming echo of vengeance that no one below could really trace. 

How the cliffs separated into sharpened boulders and flying rock all around. The fading sound of an enemy, disappearing from the swaying trees as debris rushed against them.

And then all went completely silent. 

An eerie kind of stillness that only comes from the force when things suddenly turn themselves dark.

Anakin’s hands were still wound shut into tightened fists, as if he’d been holding on to the overwhelming sense of energy that hadn’t been present inside of them anymore.

“What have I done?” He whispered to himself, slowly opening the palms of his hands, holding them out in front of him.

There was nothing tangible to be found there, only an air of pure exhaustion and sadness.

“Why can’t people just leave me alone?”

Walking nearest to the banks beside the waterfalls, he kneels down by the water; a leftover current from earlier, rippling all of it as if it had been a running creek or river. But instead, this kind of pool became nothing more than a mirror, the reflection of the man staring back at him then, was somehow unrecognizable. 

He couldn’t stand it.

The look in his eyes.

His unkempt hair.

Tattered edges ripped apart from his robes. 

What had truly become of him? He wondered to himself; veering off - drifting.

Tall blades of grass cradling him; finding himself wanting nothing more than to just lay down next to the one part of this place that brought him a sense of calm. 

…

everything’s too bright…

I’m done with this…

I should just leave, find a way out of here…

There’s a field of wheat surrounding Anakin in the light of the afternoon, a golden hour that makes everything look like it had all been just one color. An appearance of stray shadows that passes over all of his crops. He knows things have to eventually get cut down, but he’s too tired and frustrated to care about that enough right now.

I’m sweating…

this sucks…

So often, and against his own judgment, this is the time when he thinks to himself. That full mind of his, a complete mess of memories that makes him spiral. He thinks about the children and where they might have really ended up. If they had been separated, or whether or not they were with families that loved them.

I would have loved them…

Padme would have been a good mother…

He busies himself to try to drown out everything that’s been replaying in his head - her voice; Obi Wan’s…

A final hug shared between two very close friends, the kind that shouldn’t have been the ending between brothers before they had both fought. 

nothing makes sense anymore…

His hair in this type of heat feels matted against his forehead. It’s become too long now, so much so, that it’s falls into his eyelids, spilling over his brow. It makes him look angry and abrasive - the words overheard in the day time that others so often like to use, because they’re certainly not his own.

He wishes he could change his appearance, but what for? Nobody knows him anyway. No one’s ever cared to look. 

not true...

Trying his best to smooth the unruly waves out of his own way, he begins to fuss with tying up the back of it instead of focusing on his work. But the shred of material in his hands is just too short, he can’t seem to get a good grip on it. So easily becoming more and more stressed and frustrated.

If only Anakin could scream.

Shout into the void of clouds, and far away houses.

But each time he opens his mouth, he can only breathe out a huff of quiet.

how is it that there isn’t any sound?

Agitated with everything now, he begins to stare off without blinking, as if in a wordless trance - looking around for something. 

All of the flowers that once were planted, somehow are all gone.

They’ve all just disappeared, turning out beneath his boots to only be a patch of dust.

this isn’t real…

what’s going on?

And so, he grabs hold of his belt, where a pair of shears can be found. They’re the same ones he uses in the Winter to trim his sheep’s wool. It’s one of the only tools that he can reach right now to prove to himself that at least something in this place had been real.

these are sharp.

don’t touch them.

He remembers that kind interaction from long ago, telling you to be careful when working around him. The silhouette of your gentle face looking toward him so insistently, softening always in the light of dawn with a smile. An early morning mist each time adhering to your skin, before catching on.

I don’t care anymore…

I’ll just cut it all off…

enough’s enough…

“Wait! Lars! What are you doing?! Don’t!” you yell out toward him, like a startlingly beautiful sound. You think there must be something seriously wrong - that something else has been pulling at him inside that goes far beyond just getting overexerted at the farm. And so you run, afraid that he might hurt himself.

“Please…” you begin, patiently, before taking a soothing hold of his wrists. His mechanical arm, feeling smooth, and somewhat cold in your palms.

“Please…” you try again, “put those down. Let me, just…” 

So instead, you reach up, watching carefully as his eyes start to close, smoothing all the hair away for his eyes and the dampened skin of his face, careful not to pull at it all too tightly. That when his shoulders relax from all their tensing, he thinks perhaps your touch just might have saved him there - from the plague of all consuming torment; from the daydreams masquerading as all of his waking nightmares.

…

“Lars…Lars, dear, are you alright?”

Stirring himself awake, only then at the sound of your voice does Anakin realize that all the while he must have been dreaming. 

she called me…dear…

ha.

that’s funny.

“Sorry, there was some sort of earthquake. Must’ve passed out…”

“There certainly was. The whole village is somewhat destroyed…I think you actually might have been dreaming.”

“How…how did you…”

“I just had a strange feeling when I didn’t see you back home. Most of the people had already been accounted for. When I couldn’t find you I…”

“You were looking for me?”

“I…well…”

Anakin sits up, finding now that since you’d been here, his inner strength had been enough.

“It’s fine, I just…wasn’t expecting this. I’m still a bit shaken up.”

she’s laughing…

did I just…

“Now there’s a real pun if I’ve ever heard one!”

Anakin smirks, brushing himself off and stretching before standing back up from the ground.

“Like that, don’t you, my lady?”

“Mhmm, almost as much as you calling me that! While you were sleeping, I’m pretty sure you were mumbling my name somehow…”

“I was?”

“Although…I’m probably wrong…”

There’s a slight moment of pause held in the space between you then. It isn’t awkward, in fact, it’s just enough of an enjoyable back and forth for him. If only you had known his true, given name, that would make all of this all the more fun. 

“Not wrong…”

“Oh…well, what were you thinking about?”

“Something awful, and weird. Then you showed up. Made everything better.”

Looking down, suddenly you’ve grown quite bashful.

“I did? Well…that’s lovely…I mean good.”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

Anakin steps closer, engaging you with his words as you stand before him, watching intently as you hang onto all of them.

“You always tend to look away from me. Don’t.”

He whispers, finding himself brushing the backs of his fingertips along your face; caressing your cheek, then gliding softly toward your chin.

Tilting it…

But before you are even able to say anything else, he does all the speaking for you.

Through wordless action, and a comfortable safety that comes from being held.

His arms wrapping all the way around you and bringing you further to him.

Your loving hands, reaching delicately for the back of his neck in order just to rest there.

Expecting him to kiss you slowly…

Though, being patient, was never on Anakin’s radar…

Leaving you as breathless as ever just to enjoy the impassioned way in which he does.

…💐

Thanks so much for reading! 💌 the response to this story has been wonderful, and so much fun! Thank you again to everyone for reading & sharing. I would love to hear your thoughts ! what has been your favorite part so far? 💫 xoxo

[sunnyie-eve]

48 | Boundaries

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mention of rape & abortion

| MASTERLIST |

Everyone was just hanging out in the living room when Colby decided to do a surprise visit. Nick was on his laptop, Chris was watching TikTok's in his phone, and Dani and Matt were watching a black mirror episodes.

All eyes went towards the front door not expecting anyone. Matt says he'll see who it was and when he saw it was Colby he mentally sighed.

"What a surprise." Matt lets him in.

"Wanted to check in on Dani." Colby says and Dani hears him so she rolls her eyes before the two join everyone.

"Colby." Dani gives him a smile.

"I wanna take you to lunch. So get ready to go. I'm not taking no for an answer." He tells her so she gets up going to her room to change bottoms.

The guys don't really chat because Dani rushed so Colby wouldn't start anything with Matt asking stupid questions.

The car ride to lunch not a single one of them said a thing and even at lunch for the first few minutes no one said anything either.

"Why did you want to take me lunch?" Dani speaks up first, "And don't lie to me because you have never done this before."

Colby chuckles nodding his head, "That is true."

"So why now? So you can interrogate me more about  my friendship with Matt?"

"I'm just curious." He tells her.

"And I keep telling you the same thing."

"And I don't believe you or him. It's; we're close friends... It's; he's attractive but we're friends. It's; we're just friends. It's; matching tattoos but means nothing." He goes on to rant.

"You never believe me. Why?" She asks wanting to know.

"Because you have lied to me in the past about things in your relationship with your ex."

"What? He was abusive and that was proven." She says more confused than ever.

"You said y'all never did anything and you did. I found papers in mom's files about your abortion."

Dani stares at him and hates that he brought that up, "I never lied because we never did it. I was raped by his older brother that just got out of jail before going back." She lowers her voice since they were in public still, "I was 15 and I only told mom about it and we took care of it. It wasn't any of yours, Gage's, or Dad's business. I went to therapy for that not just for my anxiety."

"Dani."

"We aren't talking about it anymore. And that's final. And yes, I'm your baby sister but you need to mind your own business. Especially when it comes to who I like or don't like." She tells him.

"Exactly, you're my baby sister therefore I have a right to know things. Especially when it comes to your dating life. Especially when it's maybe with a guy you met through me."

Dani rolls her eyes, "You do not have a right. And I already knew of Matt because I was friends with Nick. You only helped by letting us finally meet up. I chose to come back here after Texas not you. My choice lead to my friendship with Matt." She explains to him.

"Also I can be curious because you two barely knew each other when he asked you to move in. That's weird to me. Why would he do that?"

"Because I needed a place to go because I didn't want to go live with you again. You would do the I told you so shit!" She snaps a bit.

"Well yeah, because I told you how she was."

"Exactly my point, Colby. If I had to make that choice again not even knowing Nick the way I did... I would still take Matt's offer than live with you." She sighs.

Colby can't help but roll his eyes a bit, "You're supposed to pick family first."

Dani can't help but laugh, "Pick family first? Okay, you wanna go there... Four years ago when I came to visit you for a week. You took me to a crazy house party then left me and the party to go hook up with some girl. I had such a bad panic attack I was taken to the hospital by some strangers at the party. You had no idea I was missing until the next day was practically over with and the hospital called you instead of mom."

"How many times have I apologized for that?"

"You shouldn't have had to because it shouldn't have never happened." She tells him, "You wanna know something sad I've realized living with them? Matt knows me more than you do Colby. Those brothers know me more than my own family." She tries not to tear up, "I feel more at home with them and their parents and Justin than with my own."

Colby just states at Dani before she gets up from the table, "Where are you going?"

"Home." She wipes her tears away leaving and he follows her.

"Are you really get a ride back?"

"I am and an uber isn't too far." She gets one to go home.

"You're being ridiculous right now."

Dani spins to face him, "Me? I'm not throwing a tantrum that my sister isn't telling me if she likes her best friend or not. And say I did and I wanted a relationship with him. What are you gonna do about it?"

Before he could answer the car pulls up so she gets in it going home. As soon as she gets home she tells the boys she wants time alone and they give it to her.

"Why isn't Dani with you three?" Nick reads the twitch chat way later in the night.

"She didn't want to." Chris tells them.

"If she wanted to join us, she would." Nick adds.

"Where is she then?" Chris reads out.

"Her room." Nick tells them then reads a few telling him to go get her to join them, "I'm not making her."

"You guys flip on her so fast." Chris shakes his head, "One second you guys want her out of stuff and now you want her with us."

Dani pushes Matt's door open since she was just in the kitchen, "I heard my name." She looks at them.

"Chat." Nick tells her and sees mixed comments now about her, "Wow." He rolls his eyes at them as Dani walks into view.

She looked like she went through hell. She had been crying almost all day since she got home, "I'm not joining them because I had a bad day." She tells the chat and they could tell by her tone she was upset.

"There, she told you why." Matt says, so she could leave his room now. He knew she just wanted to be alone to cry. Hell, all three of them knew that.

"I'll lay in here for a bit." She turns crawling onto Matt's bed as him and Chris switch spots. Matt made sure to sit at an angle where Dani wasn't being shown much and Chris helps by moving a pillow to block Dani as well.

"Oh, you guys can expect a new video coming out soon on Dani's channel. With me." Chris lets viewers know.

"Because I said no." Matt spits out making Chris and Dani look at him.

"No." She tells him since that wasn't true at all.

"We had that planned. Like since we were back home." Chris tells him.

"Is there a competition going on about...who can be on her channel the most?" Matt asks the three, "Because I seem to be dead last in this with Chris in first."

Nick gives him a look, "You are so butthurt."

"That's one way to put it." Matt agrees.

"Of course, Nick." Nick says then it hits him he said his name instead as the others laugh. "At least I got Dani to laugh." Nick says proud of himself because she needed it.

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twelve

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel finally gets his head out of his ass, with a little push from tess.

a/n: we have BIG CONVERSATIONS IN THIS HOUSE FAM. i want to reiterate: i love the canon joel x tess. i live for it. but the drama/angst/emotion it has allowed me to create but backpedaling them SLIGHTLY? delish. enjoy babes, please scream at me about the ending 😇

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, drinking, lots of emotions, mentions of canon-typical violence and injuries, mentions of death, joel is both an asshole and an Emotional Man, tess and liv are true bffs and god bless last night’s episode for solidifying some of my plans 🤍

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works✨

“You need to talk to her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, Joel, you—”

“Don’t tell me what I need to fuckin’ do, Tess. Leave it be.”

“Joel—”

“Please.”

+

You’ve been staying at Deanna’s. Two weeks now, since your stint in lockup, since Angie had beat the literal shit out of you. The couch isn’t comfy, and your ribs are still sore, but it’s fine. 

The kids are happy to have you around. Emily especially, once she got past the bruises on your face. You weren’t expecting Henry’s reaction; when you woke up in Deanna’s apartment the next morning, he was sitting vigil beside you, tears on his face, bottom lip jutting out. You told him you fell down the stairs, trying to get a laugh out of him, and he’d just hugged you, buried his face in your chest.

You try to keep things normal, whatever the fuck that means anymore. You take on extra jobs, trying to earn more ration cards for the three living in your apartment. Tess shadows you, follows you around every day, and you tell her your secrets, point out your routes, the soldiers you have dirt on, the ones you know not to fuck with.

“She’s the one that beat you?” she asks one day, jutting her chin towards Angie. You’re standing in the warehouse that serves as the food bank, waiting in line. You’ve had a heartbeat in the bruise on your cheek since you woke up, and standing ten feet from the woman who gave it to you isn’t exactly helping. 

You disguise your nod as a stretch, wincing at the pull on your ribs. Deanna was sure you hadn’t broken any, but you sure as hell were bruised. They didn’t look as bad as your cheek, but the pain was deeper, and seemed intent to linger longer. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Tess sneers in her direction, and you have to stifle your laugh. “Fucking bitch.”

You like Tess. You really like her. She’s a hard ass, but rightfully so, given the history. She hasn’t given you much more of her past, and you’re definitely not about to offer up any of yours, but the friendship between you is quick. You’ve skirted the Joel subject so far, despite the fact that they’re literally sleeping in your bed. Most of your conversations have been about the QZ, the inner workings, your smuggling. You have a job coming up, and Tess has already said she’s coming with you.

“I doubt Joel will be thrilled about that.”

“Joel can fucking shove it.”

She hasn’t been shy about her displeasure towards him, but it hasn’t done much to change things between you. You went down to grab some clothes a few days back, and he’d been the only one inside. Tess was out exploring, and Tommy had gone with her.

He didn’t say a goddamned word.

You’d managed to hold back the tears until you were back in the hallway, but you sobbed so hard you thought you actually were going to crack a rib. And on the other side of the door, you heard the radio flick on, assumedly to drown out your noise.

You nearly put your boot through the wall.

You move up a few places in line, and reach into your pocket, pulling out the ration cards you’ve collected. It’s worked out okay; you had some stashed to begin with and you were able to pull a few jobs after you got back on your feet. But Tess is adamant they’ll pay you back, despite your protests.

“First job I take,” she says to you, jutting her chin towards the stack in your hand, “you get half.”

You shake your head. “I told you, it’s fine.“

“It’s not,” she replies, her tone determined. “It’s the least we can do, after what you did for us. Hell, I should give you back double for putting up with the bullshit Joel’s been throwing at you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she repeats, and grabs your arm, turning you towards her slightly. “I’m not fucking okay with this. I need you to get that. He needs to talk to you. You need to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Tess,” you say, toying with a corner of a ration card. “I have to respect that.”

“And he should give you the same courtesy,” she says as you move up again. “You need to talk this out. He can’t keep putting up brick fucking walls; you deserve more respect than that. You put your ass on the line for us, and got the shit kicked out of you. History or not, he owes you. I’ll lock you two in the same room if I have to.”

“Hah,” you scoff, lifting your brows. “I’m sure he’d love that.” 

She goes quiet as you reach the front of the line, handing over the cards. The woman working the table slides a crate of food across to you a second later, along with two jugs of water that Tess reaches for. It’s not until you’re back outside that she speaks again.

“I want us to be friends,” she says, and the tone in her voice makes you pause, stopping in your tracks. “I like you, Liv; you’re strong as hell. Brave. Best damn smuggler I’ve ever seen. I just…I need you to understand, me and Joel, it’s nothing close to what I had with Nate, or what he had with you. I know that. I get that. We laid out ground rules from square one. It’s a…” She trails off, searching for the right word.

“A comfort,” you provide.

She nods. “Yes. And I…if I had a second chance with Nate? If I walked down this street tomorrow and saw him walking through that fucking gate, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to—” She stops, clamps her hand over her mouth and you almost jump when you see the tears in her eyes.

“Tess.” She blinks hard, waving a hand at you, and in an instant, the badass demeanour has returned, if not doubly so. You continue, “If he’s a comfort to you, I can’t be the person that takes that away. He’s not mine to take. Especially not if he doesn’t want me back. It’s okay. You can’t force his hand in this.”

She eyes you, chewing at her thumbnail before, “Maybe I can.”

You shake your head, hefting the crate of food higher on your hip. “Let’s take this back.”

+

The doorknob jiggles, and Joel’s head snaps up. He’s sat on your couch, some book about woodworking in his hands, a mostly abandoned glass of whiskey on the table in front of him. Tommy’s at the kitchen table, bent over a map, trying to figure out the path they’d taken, all the way back to Austin. “I’m just curious,” he’d said when Joel had asked, his voice almost clipped. Joel hadn’t pushed any further.

The door swings open, revealing you and Tess, a crate of food on your hip, Tess carrying jugs of water. Joel gets to his feet, wanders towards the kitchen, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Tommy gets up immediately, takes one of the jugs from Tess. She starts putting stuff away, and you step closer to the table, digging in the pocket of your coat. “Exciting news,” you say, pulling out a key ring with three keys on it, dropping it onto the table. “Moving day.”

“We’re not going far, are we?” Tess asks over her shoulder.

“No,” you reply, pushing a hand through your hair before shucking off your coat. “One floor up, few units down. Besides, you know where to find me.” Joel catches you glance his way, but it’s short-lived, you turning away a moment later to help Tess put the rest of the food away. “I saw they have a posting for a handyman in the building, one for the apartment across the street too,” you say, putting away a box of instant mashed potatoes. “Unit maintenance and stuff like that, thought you boys might be good for it.”

Tommy nods, enthusiastic. “Sounds good to me.” He glances at Joel over his shoulder. “Gotta get started paying you back what we owe you, Liv.”

You wave a hand, and Joel sees Tess give you a pointed look. “Listen, all of you. We’re square, okay? I mean it. I’m just…I’m glad you’re all here. Safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

Joel can’t hold his tongue. “That soldier beat you half to death.”

“Oh, you noticed?” you throw back, and the guilt simmers in his gut. “We’re square,” you repeat, leaning against the kitchen counter, hip cocked, arms crossed over your chest. A mirror of Joel’s stance. “But there’s something I wanted to bring up to the three of you. Tess and I have already talked it over, and I’ve done okay for myself given the circumstance, but I could use you, all three of you.” Your eyes flick from Tommy to Joel and back again, so quick he nearly misses it. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie, but I’ve got dirt on half the soldiers in this QZ. And I know exactly what to give them to keep their mouths shut.” 

“You already know I’m in,” Tess says, bumping her hip into yours. There’s a tiny grin on your face, the bruising along your cheek pinching slightly. “There are still connections from Baltimore we can use. Between the four of us, we could be living like kings, for a change.”

You nod. “Either way, it’s an offer. I trust you all enough that you’ll keep it secret, but if you want in, my door’s always open.” You pause. “But I do want my keys back.”

“I’m game,” Tommy says, leaning back in his chair. “You tell me where and when, Liv, and I’m there.”

“Same,” Tess agrees, “but we’re still paying you back.”

Joel can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you out of your damn minds? Both of you?” He stares at Tommy when his brother turns to face him, glances at Tess when she steps forward and plants her hands on the kitchen table. “We just got safe again, and already you want to put that in jeopardy?”

Tess scoffs, and the sound makes Joel blood boil. There’s too much happening. The guilt never leaves, but seeing you, hearing your voice, it makes it that much worse, and Tess looking at him like he’s a fucking idiot doesn’t help matters.

“We pulled a lot of bad shit to stay alive out there, Joel,” she says, her tone stern. “Baltimore was no different. I highly doubt a bit of smuggling is going to fuck with our reputations.”

“Your records are clean,” you offer, your voice placating. It makes the hair on the back of Joel’s neck stand on end. “When Cowan brought you through, he wiped them. Tommy’s is already clean, otherwise they wouldn’t have let him through to start with.” You lift your hands. “It’s just an offer, Joel.”

How have you managed to make his own name feel like a punch to the gut?

“I’ll show you to the apartment,” you say, grabbing the keys off the table, putting a hand on Tess’s shoulder. “You guys can talk it out. There’s no pressure. I’ve got a job in a few days, and—”

“I already told you, I’m going with you,” Tess says, and Joel’s brows raise.

“Tess—”

“Shut up, Joel.” She turns towards the door. “Let’s go.”

You swallow, hard enough that Joel can see your throat bob from where he’s standing. Tess grabs her jacket, gestures at Tommy to do the same, and his brother gets to his feet. You hold open the door, and Joel follows Tess and Tommy out. He tries to catch your eye as he walks past you, but your gaze drops to the floor.

Their unit is one floor up, three down from yours. You unlock the door before handing the keys to Tess, let it swing inwards. It looks about the same as yours, save for the floral wallpaper. It’s a bit bigger, an actual separate bedroom, another bed tucked in one corner, a room divider that’s seen better days blocking it off. He’s surprised, almost, that there’s furniture, even blankets on the beds, and follows his brother inside. Tess wanders, and you hang in the doorway, leaned against the jamb.

“I found some stuff at the donation warehouse,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “People will leave all kinds of shit down there, stuff they don’t need. The mattresses aren’t great, but I cleaned them best I could, and there’s some clothes too.” Joel turns to look at you, and your eyes move away from his again. “And, if you’re game for smuggling, when knows what else we might find.”

Tommy walks back over to where you’re stood, slings an arm around your neck, pulling you against him. “You’re an angel, Liv. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, leaning your head against Tommy’s chest, and Joel ignores the zip of…is that jealousy surging through his gut? Fuck.

But it turns into guilt just as quick, makes something mean bubble out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You shouldn’t have done this.” He doesn’t look at you, not directly, but from the corner of his eye, sees you balk, flinching slightly.

“Joel,” Tess chides, walking over to the door, pulling you out of Tommy’s grip and into a hug. “We owe you, I mean it.”

Joel watches, as you hug Tess. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hooked around her shoulders, your brow pinched slightly. God, how many times had this thought crossed his mind? How many times had he wondered if the two of you would get along?

How many times had he dreamt of merely seeing you again?

Yet here he is, fucking it up harder than anyone ever could have imagined.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, jutting a thumb over your shoulder. “Tess, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She nods. “And Tommy, you can ask Sergeant McCoy about the handyman gig. He’s a decent guy.”

Then your eyes turn to Joel. He meets them, looks back at you, feels the guilt so thickly he’s convinced it’s replacing his blood. He thinks he hears you say his name, but then your wrench your eyes from his, disappearing from the doorway. His feet move of their own accord, propelling him towards the door, but he stops short, hands swinging at his sides.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder. “Brother, I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot.” He turns to Tess. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

Tess just nods, and the door shuts a moment later. It’s just the two of them, and Joel can already tells he’s about to be on the receiving end of Tess’s anger.

“Sit, Miller.” She points to the kitchen table. It’s not much different than yours, though there are no maps spread across the surface. “You can’t keep doing this shit.”

“Tess, don’t—”

“No, shut the fuck up,” she cuts him off, her hand flexing in the air. “You’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna listen, you understand? Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Joel swallows hard. “Fine.”

“You need to go after Liv,” she says, the words blunt, laying her hand flat on the table. “You can’t keep pushing her away and treating her the way that you are. You can’t keep doing this to her.”

“I have to,” he replies, the words quick, half-hearted. An excuse.

“No, you don’t,” Tess throws back, just as quick.

“You—”

“We’re done,” she says, cutting him off again. “You and I. It was just stress relief, right from the beginning. I know that, you know that. Nate was gone and you were there and I…” She shakes her head, lifts her hand to her mouth and bites her knuckle before continuing. “If I had a second chance like this, a second shot, goddamn, I would have dropped you so fast your head would’ve spun.” She actually laughs. Her eyes are big and wet, but no tears fall. “She loves you, Joel, and you love her. I knew it from the second you saw her at the gas station. It’s not—”

“Tess—”

“Listen to me, Joel. If I turned a corner tomorrow and saw Nate right there in front of me, there’s not a force on this whole fucking planet that could keep me from him. So why are you doing this to her? To yourself?”

He goes quiet, for a long moment. Stares down at the table top, digs his nail into the grain of the wood. “You said it yourself, Tess. We did a lot of bad shit out there to stay alive. I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I’m not who she remembers, who she loved before.”

Tess reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezes his fingers tightly. “Joel, the fucking world ended. I didn’t know her before, but I highly doubt that the Liv I know now was the same before the outbreak. We do what we have to, to survive. She put her life on the line for us, without batting a fucking eye. The least you can do is talk to her.”

“I can’t—”

“You can. What do I have to say to get it though your thick fucking skull, Miller? Second chances like this don’t just happen. If I had one, I sure as hell wouldn’t squander it the way you’re so hellbent on doing. So don’t.”

“Tess—”

“Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Slowly, Joel gets to his feet, and Tess follows suit. He’s not quite sure what to do next, but then she grabs the front of his jacket, hauls him against her, throws her arms around his neck. He hugs her back, mouth pressed to the curve of her shoulder.

“And I don’t wanna hear any more shit about not joining forces with Liv,” Tess says softly. “We’d be fucking fools not to.” She claps him on the shoulder, pulling away. “I’ll see you around, Joel.”

“Bye, Tess.”

The doorknob is cold when he reaches for it, and Tess doesn’t say another word as he steps out into the hall, pulls the door shut. His feet seem to carry him down the hall on their own. He heads down the stairs, faintly hears Tommy’s voice calling after him as he heads down towards the lobby. 

“Joel, where you going?”

It’s still a few hours until curfew, the sky still light, though dark clouds are gathering over the city. The moment he’s out the main door, he’s sprinting, running as fast as his legs will carry him. He’s pushing past people on the street, boots scuffing on the pavement, mumbling apologies when he almost crashes into someone. 

He just keeps going, arms pumping once he’s through the crowds of people trying to get home. He has no idea where he’s going, but he just keeps going, on and on and on until he finds himself standing in the same alleyway you’d lead him and Tess through, when you’d smuggled them inside.

What the fuck is he doing?

The rain starts slow, a few drips pelting his shoulders, the back of his neck. He tips his head back, stares up at the ominous dark clouds, hears the rumble of thunder in the distance. Joel lets his eyes slip closed, hands loose at his sides.

In a flash, it’s a downpour. He’s soaked in a matter of seconds, rainwater seeping through his hair, wetting his scalp. It runs down his cheeks, sneaks beneath the collar of his flannel, gathers in the hollow of his throat.

She loves you, Joel, and you love her. 

Tess is right. He knows she’s right. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, he always knew in the back of his mind that if he found you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself away from you. Everything he’s been doing, everything he’s said since you mentioned Sarah, it’s been…survival. Fear, that if he lets himself have you again, he’ll just lose you, like he lost her. That someone or something will take you from him.

Tommy told me. About Sarah. Joel, I’m so sorry, I just—

It hurts. The memory makes panic and fear surge through him, every single time. Makes his heart beat faster, his hands clench into fists, sweat at his hairline. But you don’t know that. How could you? He hasn’t told you, hasn’t let you in, hasn’t done anything but try and stay as far away from you as possible.

He can’t keep doing this. He knows that. When he closes his eyes, he still sees those tears on your face, at the gas station. The bat in your hand, the bravery in your eyes. You weren’t the same person he’d fallen in love with back in Austin. But you’ve survived just as hard as he has, and you lived. You’re alive.

I’ll find you, baby.

He swore to you.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Joel says the words aloud, towards the sky, to the dark clouds still pouring down on him. “Fuck.”

He turns on his heel and sprints back up the alley. The rain isn’t letting it up, pelting his face, soaking his hair further. He pushes his way back through the crowds, takes the same random path he’d just run in reverse, back to the building.

Back to you.

He takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the way his knees are shouting in protest. He’s out of breath by the time he skids to a stop in front of your door, bangs his fist on the wood. “Liv!”

“It’s open,” he hears you call from the other side, and twists the handle, pushes the door open. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing at your forehead, a bottle of whiskey not far from reach. Your gaze lifts slowly, but then your entire expression changes when you see him standing there in the doorway. “Joel? What’re you do—”

“I wanna talk to you,” he says, the words coming out in a rush. His heart is hammering in his chest. He steps through the doorway, shuts it behind him. “Please.”

“Why are you wet?” you ask, your eyes narrowing, but then you shake your head, waving your hands. “Doesn’t matter. What…you wanna talk?”

“I do.”

“About what?”

He heaves a breath. “You. Me. Tess, she—”

You lift a hand, your expression turning defeated, and reach for the whiskey. “It’s fine, Joel. I get it. It’s not like I expected you to wait around for me or anything like that, but just for the record, it’s not reason enough to avoid me like the fucking plague.” You take a swig from the bottle, tearing your eyes from his.

“I’m sorry,” he says instantly, and takes a step towards the table. You lower the bottle, slide your gaze back to his. “About all of it, Liv. Please. I just wanna talk you.” 

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, shakes the water from his fingers. You don’t say anything when he shrugs out of his jacket, hangs it on the hook near the door, settles into the seat across from you. He points towards the whiskey, and you slide it across the table to him. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows helps with the chill from the rain.

You lean back slightly in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, staring him down. “You wanna talk, Miller,” you say, and part of him wonders how much you’ve had to drink already. “Then talk.”

He takes another long swig of the whiskey. The noise the bottle makes as he puts it back down seems to echo through the apartment. “I’ve been an asshole,” he says, his gaze dropping to his lap, “since the gas station. I’ve been trying my goddamn best to push you away, and I just…” He lifts his head, lets one hand rest on the table, an olive branch between you. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“Liv, I just…I did some terrible shit out there, to stay alive. I’m not the same. But I know you aren’t either.”

“We all do terrible shit to stay alive, Joel.” You huff a little laugh. “It’s just the way of the world now.” You drag a hand over your face. “Besides, you are the only thing I have left,” you say, and Joel’s heart jumps into his throat, “from before.” You blink hard, and he can see the tears gathering along your lashes. Everything in him wants to vault the table separating you and just hold you. “I was gonna leave Boston. Before they put up the wall, when all that was standing in my way was a fucking chain link fence. I was gonna leave. Then Cowan calls the Austin QZ, asks about my family, and there’s no record of my sister, no record of you, but my parents…”

You trail off, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You wipe at your cheeks, and lay your hand on the table, inches from his. Joel’s fingers twitch.

“What happened?”

“FEDRA levelled Austin, when it was overrun. My parents were in a shelter, when they dropped the bombs, and no one survived.”

Joel balks. He remembers, that night, the outbreak. He remembers Tommy’s truck barrelling down the road, down the main drag where the hardware store was. He remembers flames pouring out of the storefront, shattered glass and the way the awning had caught fire. He remembers praying to whoever the fuck was even bothering to listen anymore that your family was okay.

“So you stayed.”

You nod, fingers tapping on the table. “I stayed. I got lucky, really. Dean got me good, before I…” You trail off, rubbing at your shoulder. “They were killing anyone who was injured, shooting them point blank in the streets. I just ran, and nearly a week later, when the soldiers stopped me at the fence, I was still me, and Cowan made sure no one saw my injuries, had Deanna treat me. Left a nasty fucking scar.” You squeeze your shoulder, pulling your eyes from Joel’s. “I never stopped wanting to go looking for you, Joel. Not once. I just—”

He shakes his head, flexes his fingers on the tabletop. “It doesn’t matter, Liv. You did what you had to, to stay alive. We all did.” He swallows hard. “When did it happen? With Dean.”

You grab the bottle, turning fully to face him, your other hand still planted inches from his. “Outbreak day. It’s funny, actually, I had just been on the phone, with you, you remember?”

Joel lets himself smile, the conversation rising to the surface of his mind. “We wished each other happy birthday.”

“We did,” you agree, and take a swig. “I just got home, and Dean was…he was just standing there, in the bedroom, staring out the window. He didn’t notice me, not at first.” You shake your head, letting go of the bottle, rubbing your fingers across your forehead. “I shouldn’t have done it, looking back, but I didn’t know, and I…I called his name. He turned, and he looked at me with that…that dead look they have, you know? And then…then he started running at me, and I knew something was wrong. I kept the bat right by the bedroom door, and when he came at me, I just…swung. Until he stopped.”

You grab the bottle again, and Joel flexes his pinky wide, until it grazes yours. Your eyes drop to the table. “You protected yourself, baby.”

It’s like everything in the apartment shifts, as the endearment rolls off his tongue. He doesn’t mean to say it so soon, but everything in him is aching to comfort you, the feeling tenfold after being stuffed down for so long. Why did he put you through this? Why did he put himself through this?

Your eyes are watery when they lift to his again. “I never should have left Austin, Joel,” you say, and slide your hand across the table, settling it on top of his, your palms pressed together. “I never should have left you.”

“I’m here now,” he says, letting his fingers curl around your wrist. His heart races when you do the same. “It doesn’t matter. None of it.”

Your thumb slides across his pulse, and your eyes flutter shut for a moment before they meet his again. There’s fire in your eyes, one he hasn’t seen in a long, long time. “What are we doing here, Joel?”

His brow pinches. “What d’you mean?”

“This is the ultimate second chance,” you say, and he can’t help his chuckle, “and we are royally fucking it up.” He keeps laughing, and you dig your nails into his skin, making him yelp. “It’s not funny, Joel!”

“I know, I know,” he says, his tone going apologetic. “It’s just…you and Tess get on well, don’t you?”

You scoff a little laugh, nodding. “She’s a badass.”

He juts his chin towards you. “So are you.”

“I get it,” you say, pulling your eyes away. Your hand stays where it is. “The two of you, it makes sense. I…I was with Cowan.” You make a face. “Am with Cowan? I don’t know. It’s just…comfort, I guess, but now, it…”

Joel can’t help but bristle slightly. “He’s helped you all these years?”

You nod slowly. “Hasn’t ratted me out, got me out of some pretty deep shit once or twice. But he’s not…” You nail him to the spot with your stare, leaning forward slightly, sliding your hand up his arm until it’s wrapped around his forearm, resting in the crook of his elbow. “He doesn’t come close, Joel. Dean, Cowan, they’re just…” You shake your head. “They’re nothing, compared to you. I could never love anyone else the way I loved you.” You pause, chew your lip. “Love you.”

“Liv—”

“But I won’t get between you and Tess, I promise. I like her, and you and me, it doesn’t—”

“Tess broke things off,” he says, and your eyes go wide. “She was right. I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing, pushing you away, thinking it was easier that way. I don’t want to stay away from you anymore. I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

“You just said you and Cowan—”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it matters.”

Joel’s brain stalls, for a moment, seeing the flare in your eyes. He gets up slowly. Your hands move to your lap as he rounds the table, pulls you to your feet. There’s only inches between you, the air turning thick with tension. “Say it again,” he says, his voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You close the distance, stepping into his arms. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, resting on your jean-clad hips, and Joel inhales deeply when your palms slide up his biceps, rest on his shoulders, one hand slipping up the back of his hair, wet curls twisted between your knuckles. 

“Don’t stay away from me,” you murmur, tugging lightly at his hair, until his face is angled with yours. He can smell the whiskey on your breath, see the remains of the bruise on your cheek. He can feel your heartbeat, wild against his own, your chest against his. “Be with me, Joel, please.”

Your voice cracks on the please, and that’s what gets him. The tension snaps, and he can’t hold back anymore.

There’s no hesitancy in it. It feels like he’s kissing you for the very first time all over again — feels like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. The press of your mouth is hot and wet, a tiny mewl falling from your lips to his as you hold him to you, your fingers tightening in his hair. He kisses your bottom lip, then the top, sinking his teeth into your flesh, pulling more tiny noises from you. God, he’s fucking missed you, so goddamned much.

You chase him when he pulls away, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth, giving you a hungrier kiss the second time round. He pushes you backwards, your boots tangling with his and suddenly you’re a heap of limbs on the ground. You actually laugh and Joel kisses the sound right out of your mouth, licking his tongue along the seam of your lips.

The motion makes you whimper, adjusting yourself beneath him until your thighs are spread either side of his hips, your boots planted on the ground. Everything in him feels white-hot, and he can’t stop kissing you, making up for lost time, pouring his apologies into his kisses, memorizing the way you feel and taste now.

“Joel,” you gasp out when he slides his hand along your jaw, tilts your head back on the wood floor, noses his way down your throat.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your skin, inhaling you deeply, kissing at your pulse.

“Take me to bed.”

PREV | NEXT

[wildemaven]

fall apart, again : interlude - a letter to joel | joel miller

-> pairing: joel miller x ofc!genevieve

-> wc: 1001

-> content warning: 18+ blog; angst, alluding to loss, post outbreak, reader is Joel’s wife, reader has a name but has zero descriptive features,

-> a/n: I kind of abandoned this series and didn’t really have any plans to finish it. It felt good where they ended in chapter 3 so I was just going to call it good. But then I was reading through the chapters and kind of found some inspiration to write something for them again. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for always listening and encouraging and fixing my writing!!

series masterlist / playlist

previous / next

Joel,

Feels weird to be sitting here, on our bed, in our home. I guess I should mention we made it back to Austin— Steve and I. 

I met Steve in the ER in Laredo on the evening of the outbreak— he lost his wife. We managed to make it out of there together and promised to keep each other safe. He heard there’s a QZ in Denver, so we’re making our way north. 

I made him promise to stop in Austin. I just had to see for myself, see if there was a chance you and Sarah might still be here— alive. 

Like I said, it feels weird to be here. Seeing our house in this state. Disheveled and abandoned, but still feeling very much like the place we thought we’d live forever. It’s like a personal landmark now, for what once was such a beautiful home filled with so many beautiful memories. Maybe it’s more of a mausoleum of sorts. Kind of morbid, but also very true. ‘Here lies the Millers, before the world went to shit.’

Except, I’m here and you’re not. 

I think the worst part of all of this is not knowing if you’re okay. Steve says I have to accept that there’s a chance that you’re not, that any worst case scenario that I have lost sleep over, might be my reality. But I refuse to accept that. So, I silently pretend that you are okay. That you have managed to get Sarah and yourself, and hopefully Tommy, to safety. You’re somewhere out there protecting our baby girl and staying strong for her like you’ve always done. 

I feel like I’m rambling. My thoughts are just all over the place being here and thinking of you. Or maybe I’m just dragging out my time here because the minute I leave, it will be like a final goodbye to this place— and I don’t think I’m ready for it just yet. 

It’s like I can still smell the faint musk of your cologne in the air. Like you’ll walk through our bedroom door, pulling your keys and wallet from your jeans and tossing them on the dresser, all while telling me about some mishap on a job site that set you back a few days. I can just see that grumpy look you wear so well. Then, when you’ve let it all out, you instantly soften when you finally look at me sitting on our bed and then you’re apologizing for boring me with your work bullshit. I would listen to your work bullshit every single day if it meant we could be together again. 

When I got here, it was like I was being pulled into Sarah’s room. I sat there for a while, remembering all the times we had laid there with her reading her bedtime stories until she would fall asleep. I miss our dance parties while we would wait for you to come home, her insisting I had zero rhythm anytime one of her little boy band hits came on and I attempted to keep up with her choreographed routine she had memorized. I’m taking a few things of hers, I hope that’s okay. I don’t think I can come back here and I want to have something of hers. 

I found your ring on our dresser. Don’t worry I’m not mad you aren’t wearing it. Gosh, I can’t believe I would get so worked up over seeing it laying there instead of on your finger. I know how much it bothered you wearing it to work and worrying about losing it or getting it caught on something, and yet I would still get annoyed over it. But, maybe you weren’t meant to wear it so I could find it today, so I could have a piece of you with me always. 

I guess I should wrap this up. I know how much you love when I can go on and on about anything. 

I will write to you. Whenever I get the chance. To Sarah, too. I’ll keep writing to you both for as long as I can. 

I love you Joel. I always have. And I always will. Wherever you are, I just hope you know that. 

Forever and always,

Eve 

*

“Hey, Genevieve— ya doin’ okay up there?” Steve calls up from downstairs. 

“Yeah! Just give me a sec! I’ll be right down.” You try to hide your pain as you respond, wiping the few tears sprinkled across your cheeks. 

You fold your letter to Joel, placing it securely in an envelope you had found next to the pile of printer paper you tucked away with the items of Sarah’s in your pack. You push yourself off the bed, walking around to the side where Joel slept since the day you moved in. You run your handover the indentation in his pillow, remembering how much you loved to wake up before him just so you could watch him sleep. 

Lifting the corner of his pillow, you gently place the letter underneath it. The last place you talked to him, is the first place you’ll write to him. You imagine he’s laying there, sleeping peacefully when you kiss the top of his pillow. 

Grabbing your pack off the bed, you take one last look at the space, your heart clenching at the finality of this visit. You force your legs to move towards the direction of the door, stopping briefly at the dresser to grab Joel’s ring, tucking it into one of your packs inner pockets safely. 

Steve is sitting on the couch when you finally make it downstairs. His patience is something you’ve appreciated since the day you met. He knew how much stopping here meant to you, and he told you to take as much time as you needed. 

“All good?” He asks once you’ve stepped off the last step. 

“No, but it will be, I think.” You tell him as you make your way out the front door. 

[robinsno1lesbian]

I LOVE Neighbor!Robin😭, I was wondering if you could write some fluff? Like a cute summer date or something?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 - 𝐑.𝐁.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2033 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mainly just sweet fluff, implied period typical homophobia, first "i love you", might be slightly repetitive because i started writing it yesterday and then picked it up again today without rereading it lmao

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc anon! i feel like the majority of my requests have been smutty ones (not complaining!!), so y'all whores are in need of some refreshing fluff!! also, you don't have to be familiar with the whole neighbor!robin concept to read this! (i feel like it turned out more robin coded than neighbor!robin anyway, i hope you don't mind! :) )

"this is perfect" she announces with a spread of her arms as if to emphasize her point.

"it looks like this everywhere" you chuckle when you finally reach her. she was been walking at a rapid pace, scanning the surroundings of lovers lake for the best possible picnic spot. she has found it, as it seems.

robin crosses her arms over her thin, white flannel.

"that is so not true," she says and shakes her head "i mean just look at how soft the grass is here or...or the view. i doubt there is any other spot with this view"

you chuckle to yourself and hold up the hem of your summer dress to avoid tripping over.

"alright then, show me what you've got"

robin had refused to show you everything that she had packed for this. she hadn't even told you about her plans of taking you on a date until you had gotten to her place.

that's where you have found her in the driver's seat of her truck, waving you over and telling you all about how she was going to take you on your first actual date.

the drive to lovers lake had been filled with complaints and apologies on her end.

how sorry she was for never taking you out on a proper date before and how summer was the perfect season for going out together.

"couple's activities" was the term she'd used.

but you know she is right; you never actually went out on dates.

maybe it was hawkins, or the 80s, surely it had to do with the fact that you were both women who shared an 'unnatural' kind of love -as some people claimed.

perhaps it was a strange mixture of all of the above that lead to the fact that she had never taken you out before.

you could never know who you might run into, who was watching whenever she linked your fingers together.

your love was limited to the times when you were all alone, sheltered by the walls of either her or your own house.

standing by her side, out in the open, feels odd enough.

you know how much she longs for this. how she wants to love you for the world to see rather than playing a game of pretending you are not all she has ever needed.

you know you're no different.

loving her in the suffocating silence is killing you. you want to love robin buckley loudly, with no shame to the way your heart flutters whenever her blue eyes find yours.

and while this might be not that much of a big thing, just a picnic, it is the beginning of something that neither of you has ever experienced before.

there is pride in the way you take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

robin smiles and lowers herself to the ground, reaching for the basket.

she really has thought of everything and you get a feeling like she might've planned this beforehand.

after you helped her set up the blanket, she reveals all the food she has brought and sets it all up on the blanket while you watch in awe.

"why are you watching me?" she grins over her shoulder, kneeling over the basket with a box of strawberries in her hands.

"i- uh-" you blush.

"do you at least like what you're so shamelessly gaping at?"

"oh i do" you give a quick glance around. it's still rather early and there isn't anyone in sight, so you put your lips to hers gently and run your thumb over her cheeks.

she kisses you back immediately, almost like she's been waiting for you to finally do so.

you can feel her smile against your skin, can feel her breath tickling your face when she practically throws herself on you.

you yelp when you're pushed into the blanket gently. the fabric has already warmed up and feels comforting against the skin of your back, bare due to the cut of your dress.

robin lingers above you for a minute, peppering kisses all over your face until you have your nose scrunched up and your eyes closed while you're laughing over the tickling sensation.

"it tickles" you finally manage and she leans back.

"that's the point...now will you let me unpack this without staring like a creep or...?"

"can't make any promises" you chuckle and shift yourself closer to where she is now sitting, wrap your arms around her and cling to her while she finishes the setup.

she looks over her shoulder occasionally to find that you're still watching. she can't complain though, not when she can see the adoration beaming in your eyes.

once she is done, it looks like a picture straight out of the many dreams you've had.

one that is put together with so much love and care that you want to kiss her again already.

instead, you lean back on your palms and let the sun shine upon your face with both eyes closed.

it's warm, not the kind of pressing heat that will fall upon hawkins all so soon, but just right.

there's a little breeze in addition to that, blowing through your hair and the grass growing all around you.

it's perfect. everything is perfect right in this moment.

"enjoying yourself sweetheart?"

you open one eye to look at her when you hum in response.

she is holding out the box of strawberries to you. and, as delicious as they look, you don't reach out.

you just open your mouth instead and robin grins.

she picks up a berry, holds it between her index and thumb and let's it dangle down over your mouth.

"open up"

you do as you're told and bite off the lower part of the fruit, leaving nothing but the stem and bits of it left in her hand.

it tastes sweet on your tongue and bits of the juices run down your chin. you reach out but robin is quicker and collects them on her fingers and wipes them away.

you swallow and open your mouth again immediately.

"is that how we're gonna do it now?" robin laughs.

"what? you don't wanna feed me with strawberries all day long?" your eyes widen in mock horror.

"not quite how i envisioned our day but if that's what you want..." she picks another one up and repeats the process of dangling it down over you.

only that this time, when you reach out to bite it off, she yerks her hand away.

"hey!" you exclaim playfully.

you try to take it away from her hand with your mouth but she just holds it farther out of reach from you.

"you want something?"

"the strawberry" you whine, attempting to get a hold of her wrist now but failing miserably,

"oh this?" she holds it closer just for a second.

"of course this"

you're slowly losing your patience and, without further consideration, throw yourself after the fruit.

but robin, clumsy when the occasion least calls for it, is quicker this time and catches your arm in your attempt.

you gasp when she spins both of your bodies around and lays herself down on top of you, arms pinned above your head.

"easy" she grins while using her free hand to take the strawberry between her front teeth.

"you-" you're about to complain but she's already leaning down, offering half of it to you.

"oh" finally you understand and meet her halfway.

you bite down on it but not without leaning so far in that your lips are on each other, sharing a kiss that tastes like berries and summer.

"you're so sweet" she whispers, spitting the stem out in her palm.

her eyes are only on yours this whole time, studying your facial features in the light.

you blush at the compliment and try to hide away your face but she takes your hands gently. 

"don't hide"

from that point on, hours pass by like minutes. you seem to lose all track of time around her, but it is even better like this: when you're doing it together, under the warmth of the summer that is right around the corner and there isn't a worry in the world. 

you sleep with her sunglasses shielding your eyes and wake to the sound of her snoring beside you, a hat shoved over her eyes since you have taken her glasses. 

you braid her blonde her while she is asleep, combing through it with your fingers before putting it all out of her face, leaving only her bangs out. 

when she finally wakes, you're on your belly, reading through the book she has brought for herself. 

you don't even notice until you eye over, expecting to see her sleeping it finding her attentive glare on you. 

she's laying on her side, head in her hand and a smile on her lips. 

one minute it's that and the next, you're chasing each other all the way down to the shore of lover's lake, sprinting over the soft sand and through the soft waves of water that are splashing up your legs while you're trying to grab her arm.

you're making a mess of your white dress, its hem all wet from the lake. but your belly already hurts from all the laughter and robin is only mere inches away from you. you can't give up now, can you?

your legs carry you further and further never giving up until she has led you all the way back to your spot where she finally comes to a halt. 

"god you're fast" you groan. 

robin makes up though, lets you lay in her lap so that you and your clothes can dry while she is making a flower crown made of daisies for you. 

her fingers occasionally brush through your hair, making sure you haven't drifted off to sleep again which you confirm with a smile on your lips. 

eventually, she places the finished flower crown on your head. her smile tells you she's pleased with how it has turned out. 

with your head still on her thighs, she bends over and kisses your forehead.

"you're so pretty" she whispers. "so pretty" 

you open your eyes and they meet hers. upside down, but recognizable out of a million different pairs.

her palm strokes your cheek and her index draws small circles all over it. 

"you're really pretty too, i-"

"i love you" robin breathes. it's barely audible and for a split second you're unsure whether you have just imagined it or not. 

but the look on her face, one that is suddenly nervous and somewhat fearful, gives away that this hasn't been just your imagination playing tricks on you. 

you sit up slowly.

"what did you say?"

"i- i said- uhm...i said i love you" she mutters and turns her gaze away. 

there is genuine fear in her eyes now, as if there was something to be scared of. as if she really believes that you are not head over heels for her. 

"oh robin" 

"i'm sorry i don't know how that just- slipped out. should i- i mean- sorry i should've waited for a better moment but you looked so pretty and i thought-" 

you want to hear what she has to say, you really do, but you can't stand to hear how afraid she seems to be. 

so, before she can finish her rambling, you already raise your voice.

"i love you too"

"what?" 

"i love you too" 

her eyes soften and it seems like a weight is lifted off of her shoulders. 

"oh thank god" she exhales. 

"thank god?" you repeat with a chuckle "you should be, i don't know? all over me? kissing me like super dramatically and you-" 

you are cut off by her lips on yours. robin crashes them together forcefully and you're taken aback slightly but return the kiss the second her hands wrap around your body. 

all you'll ever want is for robin buckley to hold you by the lake, flower crown in your hair, and the lips of the woman you love on your own...eternal bliss.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 16

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 15 🍂 Part 17

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: None, unless you consider tooth-rotting fluff a warning? There's definitely some swearing. But there's always swearing when I'm the one writing...

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: I had to do the formatting in the app, so sorry if it's screwed! @keanureevesisbae I didn't want to make you wait until Tuesday ;) (I'll happily make everyone wait until Tuesday for the next chapter, though, because a) I still have to write it and b) I'm not doing this on my tablet again.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @diegos-butt @beck07990 @peaches1958 @pandaxnienke

“Fuck! Sy!” Jules was very much not happy. “You weren’t supposed to be here today. You said you were going to Lara’s after work!”

“I just had to pick something up!”

“Did you ever consider calling first?”

“I’m sorry? I’m not the one fucking on the kitchen table midday. I should be yelling at you!” Sy’s voice was low but he did look plenty pissed off.

“No, Sy. This is my house, and as long as I’m screwing my fiancé on my kitchen table, you have fuck all to say about that,” Jules shrieked, “what you should be doing, as a grown man of thirty goddamn years old, is live on your own, instead of staying with your engaged cousin.” The minute she said it she regretted it, and unfortunately, she also knew that she was going to regret what was she was going to say next. “But since you can’t seem to hold a woman long enough to finally start living the life you claim you wanna live, here we fucking are! And I can’t take this anymore, I want you out of my house, Sy!” Yeah, she definitely went overboard on that one. Anyone could immediately tell form the deeply hurt expression Sy tried to hide before he turned around and made his way to the front door.

“Leave your key!” She shouted after him. Pat nudged her in softly in her ribs, and she turned around to him when she heard the door slam shut.

“Was that necessary, Jules?” Of course Pat was angry – and rightfully so. Julie really shouldn’t have said half the things she said, but the gist of it – that Sy should find his own place to live – was probably true. Patrick couldn’t exactly appreciate the reasoning, though. It’s true that everyone was on edge about the living arrangements, but Sy was family, and that meant something.

 

“Pat?” That was a surprise; he never called you. “What’s up?”

“Is Sy with you?” He sounded concerned, why did he sound concerned? Was there reason to be concerned? You forced yourself to calm down.

“Should I be worried, Patrick?” Who were you even kidding, you already were?

“No, he left here fifteen minutes ago after a fight with Jules, we’re guessin’ he went to your place… Can you just give me a call if he’s not there in ten minutes?” You were about to promise Pat you would when you heard someone at the front door.

“Wait, I think he’s here,” you said as you walked to the door. It opened, and Sy stepped inside. “It’s him. I’ll talk to you.” You didn’t wait for an answer, and just hung up the phone.

“Babe, are you-” The way he pulled you into that hug told you everything you needed to know: He wasn’t okay. Sy didn’t speak or even make a sound as you slowly wriggled your way out of his embrace, he just looked at you with the most heartbreaking puppy-eyes. He followed you to the couch and you just sat there for a while, neither of you saying anything – neither of you knowing what to say or how. After a while Sy looked through the room. The living room was still largely empty; it was too big and you just didn’t have enough furniture. His eyes landed on the fireplace.

“Still no firewood, huh?” He poked at your sides, which made you squeal. Sy shook his head when you said you’d been meaning to get some. “Why don’t you let me do it?”

You had been trying your very best to not let him do it, because you were fairly sure that you’d propose on the spot if you saw this man swinging an axe around in your backyard, but he looked like he needed to work through some anger, and you were all out of carpet.

“What did you tell him, Jules?” You sounded angrier than you had first intended, but that sad look in his eyes was firmly etched into your memory, and it made you mad. Disproportionately mad, maybe, but whether or not your level of anger was justified was not up to Jules. Your mouth fell open when she repeated her words from earlier this morning to you. “You cruel bitch, Jules!”

“I know! I didn’t mean it, I was pissed…”

“Not an excuse, but out of curiosity… What did he do to piss you off, even?”

“He kinda… Walked in on me and Pat…” Ok, so he barged into their bedroom unannounced. In all fairness, that would piss you off, too. “On the kitchen table.”

Jules had to listen to your hysterical laughter for a solid minute; by then you had finally calmed down enough to speak, but it wouldn’t take much to set you off again.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “but you deserved what you got. I’m still mad at you, make this right.” You were a little snappy when you hung up the phone. This little hilarious story – which you hoped you’d be able to lord over her for all eternity – couldn’t make up for the hurtful things she’d said to Sy.

Suddenly, two familiar arms wrapped around you from behind. “She didn’t mean it, Sugar,” Sy mumbled as he gave you a kiss in your neck. As always, it managed to make you moan instantly – that was why he liked doing it so much. It didn’t help that he smelled of sweat and wood and whatever else he usually smelled of. It was musky and manly and it messed with your head.

“She still shouldn’t have said it,” you said as you crossed your arms demonstratively, “there’s no way I’m going to let her talk to my man like that.” The words were out before you realized it, and the grin on Sy’s face gave away that they didn’t go unnoticed.

“I like the sound of that, Sugar.” He turned you around so he could kiss you. “But don’t get too caught up in it, I’m sure she’s sorry.”

You scoffed. Could this guy forgive everything so easily? Either Sy could really read your mind, or your face gave away a little too much. Either way, he laughed.

“Don’t you go thinkin’ you can get away with everything, darlin’.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “But I get it. They ain’t been livin’ together long, just got engaged. They want time to themselves and I really understand why she wants me out of the house.”

“She wants you what?” That was the first time you were hearing that…

“Jules didn’t mention that on the phone?” You shook your head in reply to his question. “She wants me to move out. And I’m pretty sure she meant that part…”

You knew Julie more than well enough to know he was probably right. Sy sighed deeply as he sank down into a kitchen chair and buried his face in his hands. You heard him mumble something about staying in a motel while he looked for a place, and before you could stop yourself, you heard yourself speak: “Why don’t you just stay here, Sy?”

His eyes were wide with surprise when he looked up at you. “Are you sure, darlin’? You’re okay with that?”

“Of course, Sy.” You took the chair next to him and took his hands in yours. For some reason, your felt your heart beat hard in your throat.

“I can also just stay at a motel while I look for something permanent,” he said, “that’s okay, too.”

“Sy…”  You were really going to say it, weren’t you? Oh God, you were… “What if this was something permanent?”

Sy looked at you for a moment before a smile spread across his face. “I’m all in if you are, Sugar.”

[snowball-doie]

obviously the adults of the house are super careful to keep any of their 'private time' away from the kids and thankfully nothing has ever happened since the jungwoo incident... almost. you can imagine how surprised johnny was when his little reyna came running up to him in tears, throwing her arms around him and crying because "eomma doesn't love appa anymore!" and a mix of other distraught babbles. johnny is as confused as you'd expect and gently pushes for more information until he got it... ahri had been 'being really mean' (degrading) to hyuck and reyna had heard it.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA----- ahri was so convinced jungwoo took reyna out for the afternoon and baby jooha was sleeping in doyoung's room. she came home from running errands and immediately stormed up to hyuck's room and locked the door cuz he pissed her off, sending her pictures of his boxers pushed really low on his hips so that she could see his happy trail....... he was being a tease while she was out and about. as per usual. so the second she got home, she figured the kids weren't around, so she pinned hyuck against his bedroom wall, grabbed a tie from one of his drawers, tied him to the bed, then started edging him while degrading him for being so needy all the time. how pathetic could he be? she was only gone for a little bit to get groceries and he couldn't help himself? (she said wayyyy worse ofc)

but then there's reyna, who, unbeknownst to ahri, didn't get to spend the day with her appa jungwoo because he had a last minute meeting scheduled at the company, so he needed to make it up to her another time....... she woke up from her nap in doyoung's room, her dad and little brother both still asleep, and as she walked around the house in search of someone to entertain her, she heard oppa hyuck and her eomma arguing in oppa's room. she sounded so mean. : ( so reyna ran to find her dad johnny who was reading manga in the living room, and he caught her in his arms as she cried.... and finally she hiccupped out an explanation that eomma and oppa were arguing upstairs, and eomma sounded really, really, really mad. "eomma doesn't love oppa anymore, dad!" "that's not true," he cooes, running his fingers through her dark hair. "eomma and oppa were just... talking about adult things...." reyna pouted and cried against johnny's shoulder.

later, after ahri and hyuck finished and rested a bit to get rid of their post-sex glows, they wandered downstairs in search of the others and perhaps to talk about what was for dinner...... "princess, what's wrong?" hyuck cooed worriedly as he runs to pick up reyna from johnny's lap, slowly swaying back and forth while she was propped on his hip. "eomma doesn't love you, oppa." johnny rolled his eyes, "reyna heard you two arguing." ahri's eyes went wide, "i thought she was with jungwoo today!" "plans changed... she was napping with doyoung when she heard you guys." hyuck kissed reyna's cheek and hugged her tight, "eomma and i love each other very, very, very much. just like we love you." he gave her another kiss, "we weren't arguing, i promise. if eomma's ever actually mean, i'll tell you and you can yell at her for me, okay?" reyna nodded and hugged hyuck's neck tightly. ahri looked like she was about ready to crawl into a cave because of her embarrassment, meanwhile johnny and hyuck were laughing.

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNIE!

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNIE!

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Andy has a very special present for his girl.

Warnings: NONE.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post again, I was busy with work and then I had, still have a bit of a writers block, so I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy this.

Word count: 1478

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIF’s not mine, you can find the credits in it:) 

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

It’s been a couple of months since the trial for the custody of Jake ended. Laurie finally send the papers resigning to all her parents’ rights, and so far no one has heard of her, thankfully.

It was the end of September, the weather started to be chilly and the leaves of the trees began to change its color. Andy was at the office in his house with the advent calendar he had bought for Annie; 12 presents starting on September 30th and up to October 11th, her birth date. He kept scribbling on the little notes and soon the calendar was completed and placed on the counter in the kitchen along with an envelope.

September 30th, 7 a.m.

Annie woke up at the sound of the shower running, she got up and when downstairs to make breakfast for her boys. She was still rubbing her eye when a black box with pink decorations caught her attention. She took the envelope with her name on it and took out the letter inside.

Hi, honey! Good morning!

When you are reading this I might still be in the shower, but don’t worry I’ll be joining you soon. I just wanted to say that I love you very much and you deserve everything in the world, but while I work on how am I going to give you all that, I’ll start with the box in front of you. In there you will find 12 presents for your birthday, don’t worry is nothing too extravagant. I hope you like all of them.

Happy birthday my love!

“Happy birthday, honey.” Andy said making Annie jumped. She turned to see Andy with just a towel around his hips.

“It’s September 30th, my birthday in on October 11th.”

“I know, but we have 12 presents, if you count since today that will be…”

“12 days.”

“Exactly, so, the last present will be opened on the 11th. Now, since I know how anxious you are. You must know that you only get to open one box per day.”

“I know how advent calendars work.”

“Do you?” He lifted his brow, “I know you so well that I know you will open all of it once I’m gone for work.”

“That’s!... maybe true…” Andy crossed his arms, “fine! One per day!”

“Good! Open the first one.”

Annie opened the box with the pink number 1 on it. A small folded paper inside.

“A note! How did you know?”

“Just open it!”

“Ok, it says, 1. Let’s start the celebration with something small. We can have sex anywhere you want, whenever you want.” Annie turned to see Andy. “This sounds more like a present for you!”

“Noooo, it’s a present for you, honey.”

“It’s this applicable from now to my birthday?”

“Yes.”

“Can it be used more than once?”

“I mean if you want to.”

“Ok!” She jumped on the counter and spread her legs.

“Now?”

“Yes! Now. It says here, anywhere, whenever I want and I want it now.”

Andy just shrugged and pulled the towel from his body his semi hard dick on display for her.

“Nice way to begin my birthday.” Annie licked her lips before Andy crashed his into a passionate kiss.

“Happy birthday.”

And so it began, everyday Annie opened one of the boxes before Andy went to work.

October 1st, day 2: A Sephora gift card.

October 2nd, day 3: a pair of diamond earrings in a velvet bag.

October 3rd, day 4: Fancy picnic in the park with Andy and Jake.

October 4th, day 5: Breakfast in bed.

October 5th, day 6: A handmade coupon where it said she could buy any purse she wanted using Andy’s credit card. She chose a black Louis Vuitton tote bag.

October 6th, Day 7: A drawing of the three of them made by Jake.

October 7th, day 8: Mani and Pedi appointment.

October 8th, day 9: Gift card for the Sweet Treat Bakery down on main street.

October 9th, day 10: Shoe shopping.

October 10th, day 11: Spa day with Andy.

October 11th, 8 a.m. Annie ran downstairs and open the last box, another piece of paper inside.

“Dinner at 8 o’clock. Just you and me.”

“HAPPY BIRHTDAY!!!!” Jake screamed as he ran towards her.

“Thank you, baby.” She took him in her arms and hugged him.

“Happy birthday, honey.” Andy got closer and hugged and kissed them both. “Go get ready, we are having breakfast out. We can’t have the birthday girl cooking today.”

“Alright, let’s get change sweetie.” Annie said running with Jake in his arms towards the stairs.

--------------------------------- (     )--------------------------------------

After a lovely day hanging around with her boys, Annie took a well deserve shower. She was wrapping the towel around her body when Andy walked into the bathroom and hugged from behind.

“Do you think you can be ready by 7:30? I don’t want to lose our reservation.”

“I will be on time if you don’t distract me.”

“Alright, I let you to it.”

“Baby?” Andy hummed, “Who is taking care of Jake?”

“Maddy. She is in high school. Pam recommended her.”

“Pam always has good recommendations.” She said in a teasing tone and winked at him. Andy just shook his head and left her alone.

It was around 7:20 when Annie came down the stairs wearing a red satin dress with an opening up her left thigh, a pair of nude stilettos and a nude clutch.

“How do I look?”

Andy, Jake and Maddy turned around to see her.

“Wow!” Andy said.

“You look so pretty!!!” Jake said all excited.

“Thank you. Shall we go?” Annie said

“Sure.” Annie hook her arm around Andy’s, “Jake be good with Maddy.”

“Bye, guys.” Annie waved at them and then they left.

Once at the restaurant, the hostess took them to the terrace of the place. A single table was place in the middle of it. The whole terrace was decorated with Christmas lights and red roses.

“Oh my god! Andy this is beautiful.”

“Just the best for my best girl.” Andy kissed her softly and then both sat down to enjoy dinner.

They were eating dessert when Andy broke the silence.

 “I have one more present for you.”

“What? No, Andy you already give me too many presents.”

If Andy loved something about Annie was the fact that she never asked for anything and at the same time, he wanted to give her everything and more.

“I know, but I was saving the best for last.”

“Alright, where is it?”

“You have to close your eyes.”

“Argh, I don’t like that.”

“One last surprise, I promise.”

“Fine!”

Annie close her eyes.

 “Shit!” Andy said.

“What?”

“Honey, I think I forgot your last present. I’m so sorry.”

“Aw, it’s alright! You can always give it to me when we are back home.” Annie still had her eyes closed. “Can I open my eyes then?”

“Yeah.”

When she opened her eyes, Andy was in one knee in front of her, holding a small blue box in his hand.

“What… What is that?” Annie stuttered.

The box a beautiful diamond ring. It was very elegant, the stone was in an oval shape and small diamonds were incrusted around the ring.

“Andy…”

“Honey, I have thought for quite some time now, that the reason why it didn’t worked out with Laurie was because someone better was waiting for me, and that someone is you.”

Annie’s tears began streaming down her cheeks.

“You care for me and love Jake as your own son, and I want you to be part of our family forever.” Andy paused, “Will you marry me?”

Annie nodded rapidly.

“Yes?”

“YES! A thousand times yes!” Annie hugged him almost making him fall on his back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Let me…” He slid the ring on her finger. “It fits perfectly.” Annie stared at her hand, “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Andy. So, so much!”

It was nearly midnight when they walked in the house. Jake was sleeping on the couch while Maddy watched TV.

“Hi Mr. Barber, Hi Mrs. Barber.” Maddy said with a smile.

“Mrs. Barber sound good, don’t’ you think?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Why don’t go to our room, I’ll pay Maddy and I’ll take Jake to his room.”

“Good night, Maddy.”

“God night, Mrs. Barber.”

After paying Maddy and walked with her to her car, Andy came back home and went to take jake.”

“Buddy?” The little boy stirred and groaned. “Come on, wake up.”

“What?”

“She said yes” Andy said in a whispering tone. And Jake opened his eyes wide.

“Really? She likes our ring?”

“She did.”

“YEI!”

“Shhhh, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Come on, up we go.” Andy took Jake in his arms and walked to his room.

“So, I call her mommy now?”

“How about after the wedding?”

[faerii-shin]

"When it's Time" Part 3, Finale

Tooru Oikawa x Fem! Y/N

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

summary : Time, it goes and runs out. However, his love for you never does and never ever will. Because his heart, is all yours.

warnings : none

genre : self doubt, lost of confidence, sfw and ofc fluff as well

word count: 1,006 words 5,530 characters

a/n : f/n - friend's name { Also ur siblings with Iwaizumi } After a month, finally! Here's "When it's Time" Part 3 🤍

A week has passed and you were cured of your fever. Within that one week, you had to stay home from school. However and nevertheless, Iwaizumi and Oikawa took care of you once their practice was over in the afternoon. Oikawa would sleep with you whenever you felt like dozing off and Iwaizumi, as the older brother he was, prepped warm, delicious food to your liking. Now that you're back attending classes, you caught up immediately with the lessons. Which got you back on track right away. "Y/N-san!" A voice called out to you. "Oikawa! Hajime!" You replied back in the same tone. You walked up to them smiling. Standing in front of them you asked, "You guys need something? I just finished my last class for today, but I'm guessing you both still have practice." "We do, but it's actually our break right now. We were just passing by." Iwaizumi replied. "Also, next time bring an umbrella with you Y/N-chan. I wouldn't want to see you sick again." Oikawa said in a worried yet glad tone. "Or maybe you should get sick again, not a fever though, so I can take of you once more." He adds, winking slightly at you." "Don't you dare flirt with my sister, idiot." Iwaizumi said hitting him lightly on the shoulder. *chuckles with a hint of pink spread across your face* "Thank you for taking care of me, really. I appreciate your concern as well." As you look at Oikawa, you were wondering if he was stating true feelings or just playing with your heart since it looked like he has changed his whole personality towards you. "Boys, back to the court now!" You hear their coach calling them, which somewhat breaks the moment. "Oh, we have to go. See you later, Y/N." They say, heading to the volleyball court. You wave at them before heading out, yet when you turned around, you saw your best friend shocked as ever. "How long have you been standing there, F/N?" You say to her with curiosity. "T-that you don't need to know, but that was Oikawa...!" She tells you highly surprised. "Yes? And what about it?" You ask F/N. "I-i thought you hated him? I guess I was wrong." She answers you with a grin. The blush on your face started to turn tinted, into a bright pink. *laughs* "Y/N, you've fallen hard. I hope he catches you though." F/N says, teasing you a bit more. "Oh shut up!" You told her. "Anyways, what do you think about coming over to my house today?" You friend asks you. "Oh, sure! I'll just tell Hajime. One moment." You respond, taking your phone out as you proceed to message your brother. "Alright, finished. Let's go!" You say, rushing out with excitement dragging her along. After the small hangout, you texted your brother to come pick you up. Minutes later, someone arrived and came up to you. "Hi Y/N-chan!" Oikawa says as he reaches out his hand motioning for you to give him your school bag. "Oh, hi Oikawa. Where's Hajime?" You ask him in confusion wondering why he isn't with him. "We went to your house and he decided that he wanted to take a shower. So he told me to pick you up." He replied. While you were walking home with him, you noticed your favorite restaurant ahead. *stomach growls* "Looks like you're hungry, little cutie." Oikawa says with a smirk. *sighs* "I wasn't able to eat, so I guess I am. Can we eat there?" You ask him pointing at the restaurant near you. A bit of hesitation, but he agreed. Anything for you and you alone.

Later on, he pays for the food and brings it outside where you both are seated. As you enjoy the food, you were starting to feel a bit cold and tried to brush it off. Oikawa noticed that. "Don't just brush it off like it's nothing, Y/N." He says, as he slowly takes off his jacket and places it on you. "I wouldn't want my little cutie to catch cold. Mmm?" You got a bit flustered and did your best to stutter out a reply. "W-what about you?" You ask him.. "Don't worry about me, you're more important and that's what matters." He tells you, patting your head. "Plus, Iwa-chan wouldn't be happy if you got sick a second time and if we were caught together." "Enjoy, while it lasts." Was his last words before going back to his seat to continue eating. After you eat, he takes your hand and you leave the restaurant.

You both walk home admiring the setting sun before you. The scene ends, however, when you hear you brother's voice. "Y/N, what took you so long!?" "And as for you, step away from my sister this instant." Iwaizumi says, nearly closing the door on his face. "Wait Haji! Let me talk to him. Please?" You tell him, holding the door tightly. "Fine! You better be quick because I am watching you two." You take Oikawa outside and once there, slowly look at the ground. But, he put his hand on your chin and brought your face up to meet his eyes. He then went down to your level and gave you a kiss. Soon pulling away so that you both can catch your breath. "Thank you for today, Y/N-chan. I have one more request for you." "Will you be my girlfriend?" He says, eagerly waiting for a response. "You know what Tooru. No isn't even an option here." You tell him, marking this to be one of the happiest moments in your life. "Finally. Finally." "I can't believe it." He exclaims. How long have you been waiting for this then?" You said, letting out a light chuckle. "Not sure, it just feels like an eternity." He replied, with a smile made across his face; And his eyes sparkling as he looked at you. "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Tooru." "Always and forever, now that it's time."

The End. Thank you so much for being patient in waiting for this story to come to a close !

[foundtherightwords]

The Road Forgotten - Chapter 12

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC

A/N: I made Arthur bisexual and paired him with a female character in this. I know some writers have gotten flack for pairing Arthur with a female character (or reader), so if it's not your cup of tea, please walk away.

This is mostly based on the events of "Dickensian", but I've also incorporated some elements and characters from "Great Expectations". Most notably, Satis House is in Kent (as in the book) instead of in London.

Summary: A few years after his plan to swindle his sister ended in tragedy, Arthur Havisham is a shadow of a man, living in guilt and fear. When Elsie Bradford, a young woman also wronged by Compeyson, enlists Arthur's help to hunt down his former partner-in-crime, Arthur must face his demons and other strange, new feelings, to redeem himself.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, guilt, revenge, psychological trauma, mention of prostitution, mention of suicide/suicide ideations (in this chapter), some violence, a bit of smut

Chapter word count: 2.5k

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

Chapter 12

The moment Elsie walked into the coaching inn, Arthur knew it was over. Her face had lost all the softness from the last few days and looked harder than he had ever seen before, like it was carved from stone. The only shred of hope he had left was that she still came back instead of leaving immediately, so perhaps he still had a chance. She had felt sorry for Magwitch, despite Magwitch's willing collaboration with Compeyson. Perhaps she would feel sorry for Arthur as well.

Without looking at him, Elsie sat down at the table he had found for them in the parlor and asked the waiter for a brandy, which she downed in one gulp, grimacing as the fiery liquid went down her throat. Arthur waited for her to speak first, feeling like a child waiting to be reprimanded. Finally, Elsie lifted her eyes to his face, and his heart lurched. Now he could see why her face was so stony. For all her effort to stay calm, there was indescribable pain in her eyes. He was responsible for that. He had hurt her. He had tried to protect her and loved her, but as always, he had only succeeded in causing pain. 

"I've spoken to your sister," she said. Her voice sounded oddly tight and came out slowly, as if she was speaking through gritted teeth to stop herself from screaming. "She doesn't know where Compeyson may be hiding." She took a shaky breath and signaled for another brandy. "She has some interesting things to say about you, though."

Arthur said nothing, waiting for the axe to fall.

"Is it true?" she asked. "Did you help Compeyson to defraud your sister?" There was a sliver of hope, a note of pleading in her question, as though she was begging him to say no, to tell her it was all a misunderstanding or a malicious lie from Amelia's mind, twisted by grief. But he couldn't lie anymore. He couldn't even say that it hadn't been his original intention to swindle his sister, and that Compeyson had manipulated the situation to fool them both. It would just be more excuses. The plain truth was that it was his fault. He was the one that brought Compeyson into their lives, and there had been many times he could have exposed Compeyson for the monster that he was, but he hadn't. He had been a coward.

So now he could only say a quiet "Yes", and watch as Elsie's face crumpled. Her eyes brimmed with tears. By some enormous self-control, she refused to shed them. Watching her fight those tears was more painful than Arthur could bear. He longed to reach out for her, to kneel at her feet, to take her into his arms, to tell her how sorry he was, but he knew none of it would matter. She took another drink, and, after a moment, regained her composure. Now it was his turn to avoid her eyes while she stared at him, her features becoming saturated with all the feelings he feared the most—contempt, disgust, anger, which crowded out the pain.

"How can you live with yourself?" she asked, her eyes fixed on him like a gimlet, trying to bore all the way into his heart and dig out the truth.

"I can't," he said, feeling exhausted. "I haven't. If you knew how many times I've stepped out onto the roof, wishing I had the courage to jump..."

"So why didn't you?"

That cruel question was uttered in such a detached manner that it made Arthur recoil, as if he'd been stabbed. "Because I deserve it. I told myself I have to live, to endure all this misery, because I deserve it." And it was the truth. During his darkest, most wretched nights, that thought was the only thing that sustained him, as grim as it was. He had to tell himself he didn't deserve to die, because dying would be too easy a way out.

For all his self-reproach, Elsie remained apathetic. 

"Your sister is right," she said. "Men are despicable creatures. But even more despicable are us, the women that allow themselves to fall in love with such men."

One of her words reached him, even in his anguish. Love. She'd said she loved him. Not in so many words, but she had. That renewed his hope.

"Does that mean that you love me?" he said, reaching across the table for her.

She ignored his hand. "And to think, I've had a mind to tell you—"

"Tell me what?"

She said nothing. A mask seemed to have settled over her face. Arthur tried again. "Elsie, please," he said. "I know I made a terrible mistake. There is no word to tell you how sorry I am for it. But ever since I met you, I've tried to atone for it, haven't I?"

The mask cracked, and fire flared up in her eyes. "How, by bedding me?"

Her words were like a slap to the face. Did the last few days, their connection, their intimacy mean anything to her? Or had she walled up her heart so well that none of that leave any impression on her? "No, by helping you!" He knew he was shouting now, and curious heads in the parlor were turning to stare at them, but he didn't care.

"Of course," she sneered. "How valuable your help has been. What have we accomplished, exactly? I wouldn't be surprised if you were hiding Compeyson yourself—"

As she said this, something seemed to occur to her. The fire in her eyes was replaced by a contemplative look. She was no longer staring at him, but at some spot over his left shoulder, her brows furrowed in concentration. Then her eyes went wide. "My God, what a fool I've been," she whispered to herself. "Sally..."

Arthur had no idea what was happening. He only knew he couldn't lose her. He went around the table and knelt in front of her chair, taking her hands. "Elsie, please—"

She looked at him as if she'd only remembered that he was there. "Don't touch me," she said, pushing his hand away. Outside, the coachman was calling for the last passengers to board. Elsie jumped up and ran out of the inn. Arthur couldn't bring himself to follow her. The coldness in her voice and her hard eyes, like two piercing jades, had pinned him to where he was, and he remained there as the coach rumbled off, taking away the woman he loved.

***

He didn't wait for the next coach back to London, choosing to walk instead. No, he didn't choose exactly. All he remembered was standing outside the coaching inn, long after Elsie had gone, and his feet just started moving of their own accord. He hardly knew where he was going. He only wanted something for his body to do, to tire himself out, or to stop himself from thinking. A wagon passed him and a friendly farmer asked if he needed a ride. He politely declined. He tried to focus all his energy into putting one foot after the next, into paying attention to every sign post, every little detail on the road, the uneven ground, the stubby grass, the fields of ripening wheat dotted with scarlet poppies and frothy Queen Anne's lace. But it was no use. His mind kept coming back to Elsie, to the way she had looked at him before running off, like he was some sort of vermin she couldn't get away from far enough or quickly enough.

Of course, he had tried to prepare himself for this. He had taken the risk of bringing her to Satis House knowing the truth might out, and he might lose her. But he had done so in the hope that it would help her to find Compeyson and bring her peace, a sacrifice he was willing to make. But Elsie was no closer to the end of her quest, and he had still lost her. That made it all the more painful, that the sacrifice had been for nothing.

It was like Amelia all over again. He could have saved her from Compeyson, but he hadn't, and when he'd finally tried, it had been too late, and he'd lost everything. If he had told Elsie sooner, when they first met, she might have despised him then, but perhaps she would come to understand. She might not have loved him, but perhaps she would not have hated him either. But no, he had to hold on to whatever scrap of dignity he had left, no matter how false it was. Fool!

He walked all night. It being summer, the sky never really got dark, but only turned a deep purple, the color of a bruise, while a strip of fiery red remained along the horizon, like a glimpse of a furnace. Gradually, the pretty fields and sleepy villages were pushed back by terraces and houses that stood thick together, the tree trunks became greasy with soot, and although it was dawn when he reached St. Giles, the sky was darker, not lighter. He almost hoped to run into one of the inhabitants of the Rookery, someone who was thirsting for blood or simply in a bad mood, someone who would decide to put him out of his misery. He was disappointed when he returned to his room unscathed.

He wasn't disappointed to see the room empty though. That he had expected. Of course she wouldn't be here. Even her things were all gone. Only the wreath of ivy was left on the bedside table, a cruel reminder of what they had shared, what they could have had still, if he hadn't been such a cowardly fool. Arthur touched the silk leaves and felt a sharp wire poke his finger, a dull echo of the stabbing pain in his heart.

When they first met, he'd thought that he valued Elsie's good opinion of him so much because she was the only one who had a good opinion of him. Now he would trade the goodwill of the whole world for just another kind word from her.

Somehow, he found himself on the roof. While he was mulling over his loss, his feet had taken him there without him realizing it. He stood on the steep tiles and looked over the city. How long had it been since he'd last seen the dawn? Even if he woke up early enough, there was nothing to see from the ground, just a lightening of the sky from black to gray. From up here, though, it looked almost a proper dawn. The sun was a soft pink sphere against the light grayish blue of the summer sky. The rooftops of St. Giles stood out against that sky like a row of crooked teeth. The early morning air was cool and fresh, promising a clear, bright day. But Arthur knew that promise was false. Soon the suffocating smoke would descend on the city once more, and that brilliant dawn would only be a faded memory.

Ever since he moved to St. Giles, he hadn't been out on the roof much, certainly not as much as the days when he was still living above the Three Cripples, back when his despair was still a roaring, furious black beast and not the familiar phantom that he had learned to ignore over the years. But even in St. Giles, he still liked to go on the roof from time to time. He knew he wouldn't have the nerve to actually jump, so mostly he just sat there, watching the hustle and bustle of life on the streets below. It brought him a strange sense of comfort, to know that there were thousands, millions of people out there with their own troubles and sufferings, of which he knew nothing, and who knew nothing about his suffering. It helped him to realize that the world didn't revolve around him, and that his death wouldn't even make a ripple in the ocean of life. For some, such a thought might have driven them off the edge. For Arthur, it had convinced him to continue living, because he was still egotistical enough to want his death to at least mean something.

But now the old thoughts were no help. He wouldn't hesitate this time. It would be quick, and then all this misery would be over. There was nothing left for him. He had done all he could, and it had amounted to nothing. So this would be the end of his life, the end of him. Nothing.

He scrambled to the flat edge of the roof and looked down. It wasn't as high as he'd thought. With his luck, he might not die at all. He would only break his leg, or worse, his back, become paralyzed, and be trapped in an even more miserable existence. That thought gave him pause. Should he find a more certain way to die, or should he just take the plunge?

While he was hesitating, his eyes landed on something by his feet. At first glance, he had thought it was a twig, but when he nudged it with his foot and the first rays of the sun fell on it, it became clear that it was the remaining nub of a cheroot. The same kind that the Chimney smoked.

They had been here. They had been on this roof, right on top of him, watching, waiting, like two birds of prey. For how long? He bent down to pick up the cheroot. It still looked fresh, so it hadn't been here long, and there wasn't any other similar discard lying around. So they had probably only been here the previous day. But if Elsie had come back for her things, they might have seen her. And followed her. And perhaps even taken her.

He wouldn't mind losing Elsie so much if he knew she was safe, but she wasn't. Suddenly he was burning with a desire to see her, just for one last time, to make sure she was safe, to say a proper goodbye if she would let him. Where could she have gone? Back to her lodgings in Southwark? To see Marianne? Somewhere else altogether? How could he even start to look for her?

Then the answer came: find Compeyson. Find Compeyson, and he would find Elsie. She would be nowhere else but on Compeyson's trail. But the trail had gone cold...

Or had it? He remembered Elsie's strange look at the coaching inn, right before she left. What had she said? She had accused him of hiding Compeyson. And there was something else. Something about foolish women who fell in love with despicable men, and she had said Sally's name...

Arthur stood straight up and held on to a chimney for balance. He knew where Compeyson might be. And he knew where Elsie had gone.

Chapter 13

[c-nan]

okay so melissa sue anderson left little house on the prairie bc she thought they exhausted all of mary’s storylines and there was no more for her character but she was WRONG so i complied a list of writing choices the show writers could’ve done to extend her story the rest of the series:

1. mary and adam could have adopted james and cassandra cooper

to me, it would’ve made so much more sense if mary and adam adopted james and cassandra, rather than ma and pa (bc of space + money reasons). this would’ve keep mary in the show longer bc they could’ve have episodes focusing around the kids adjusting to life with mary and adam being their new parents (BAM, happy mary episodes). there would be episodes of the kids at school and mary helping them and such (which would ofc bring more mary and laura interaction bc i loved their sister bond). and of course they’d still visit ma and pa (esp with cassandra being carrie’s only friend and james looking up to albert), so mary would get tons more screen time, even in the eps that don’t revolve around her.

(also, i love cassandra, she’s super cute and a great addition to the show, but like. she takes a lot away from carrie i feel, and i don’t think it would’ve been that way if mary and adam would’ve adopted cassandra (and james) instead)

2. mary could’ve gotten pregnant again and the baby could’ve lived

she lost her first one before it was even born and she lost her second to a horrific house fire, the least the writers could do is give her a baby that lives!! the real mary ingalls never got married, never got children, so i found it unnecessarily cruel that they give the fictionalized character two and then take them both away for what? shock value? stupid imo. a part of me believes that they tried to give her a happier ending than the real mary ingalls, but honestly this seems worse than never being married or having children at all. ANYWAY, with the trauma of losing her first two children, having another would bring on a great, long-term storyline of her and adam being paranoid of any harm that may hypothetically come to it (which would be subtly weaved into mary-centric episodes about her and adam having a family) but by the end of the series, the child would still be happily alive and she’d be HAPPY!!!! and still living in walnut grove of course <3

3. mary and adam could’ve moved back to sleepy eye

adam could’ve gotten a job at that one firm (remember the one Important Lawyer Guy wanting him at his firm after the land case??), and mary could’ve kept the blind school open and teach with hester sue (what she’s wanted to do HER WHOLE LIFE). i think the stupidest thing the writers did to her story was to introduce this wonderful teaching opportunity, have her fall in love with all her students and with teaching, having the perfect life, JUST to rip it all away bc stupid-ass adam got his eyesight back and decide he doesn’t give two shits about the blind school or the kids bc now he can be a lawyer despite all the work they went through continuously to keep the school going. who cares what mary wants?? adam sure doesn’t. and idk, mary not giving much of a fight to stay in sleepy eye and continue to teach never sat right with me, it’s not in her character and honestly feels like an injustice to her. i feel her having the opportunity to go back and fight for her school to reopen would be more true to how she’s been established all these years and would definitely get her a two-parter and keep her in the show (even if we only see her on the odd ep when they travel to sleepy eye for work. better than nothing 🤷)

4. (my personal fave and not an option for the show but can’t a girl dream) mary could’ve left adam bc he doesn’t respect her life and wishes, and go back to sleepy eye to reopen the blind school. there, she could’ve eventually fell in love with one of the female townsfolk and finally live her best lesbian life surrounded by people who love and appreciate her

if i hadn’t made it clear yet, i hate adam and i love any alternative where he is most definitely not a part of mary’s life lmfao. sure, they had their cute moments but i cannot get over the fact that more often than not, he’s an asshole and i can’t stand him <3 the complete disregard for her wishes (taking her away from TEACHING) really irks my ass and not for a second did he stop and think “is there anyway i can achieve my dream without taking away mary’s?” no. no he didn’t, he didn’t care, he didn’t even ask her. like. dude. i feel this would be the perfect ending for her, and many episodes could be used to show her befriending the female townsperson, becoming good friends, and eventually fall in love (and this lady would APPRECIATE HER!!) all the while reopening the blind school and finally getting her happy ending!!!!! idk, it’s perfect to me, there’s no flaws in this one but ik the 80’s (and honestly today too) were too homophobic for this 🙄 it’s real for me, it’s canon idc.

final notes

i’m well aware there’s probably a million more ideas i can come up with and when i do i’ll just rb an addition, but these are the best i’ve got right now!! and notice how i was able to add to her storyline without giving her unbearable anguish?? wish the writers could’ve done that!! but no!! alas, i work with the cards i’m dealt, and i’ve spent a lot of time thinking of these alternatives which helps sooth the pain of awful writing choices.

i guess i’m just upset they took a character with so much potential (and one of the most interesting storylines imo) and just give her nothing and reduce her to nothing more than a wife. by the end of her story, it seemed like she was just there to be adam’s side-piece which doesn’t sit right with me. she deserved better than that and melissa sue anderson deserved better than that (she is SUCH an amazing actress, and it really sucks to see her put on the back burner since s5)

anyway, ik im yelling into the void here but idc i needed to get it all written down lol

[nyx-is-missing]

IN MY HC JUDE DUARTE, TARYN DUARTE AND VIVI DUARTE ARE HALF DESI.

(And jude and taryn are half latinas)

LET ME COOK, the oficial art we have of jude shows us that she is a dark skinned girl, and the most common fancast for her is a brazillian actress, the scenes are taken from a soup opera that made hude success here.

As a brazillian i am taking this as a opportunity.

It was hcs in general but it grew up to something more, no complains!!

I kinda wanna do a pt2 on the revel..

I imagine the girls childhood, living is a nice neighborhood on the suburbs but going out every weekend to smaller neighborhoods filled with people from their culture.

Eating white people food sometimes to blend out but loving indian and latin food, especially brazillian food: they ate Samosa, curry, the brazillian barbecue, naan, feijoada etc....

The books mentions them eating other asian foods as well, they do that to stay as close to culture as they can.

One of the memories from home they could never forget was when they went all out as a family to enjoy their culture, whether it was a huge birthday party, or a even bigger indian wedding where they would dress in tradicional clothing and wear minor jewelry, or even a simple brazillian barbecue with friends where they would feel the thing all br kids feel while they wait by the pool for their parents to stop dancing and tk put them food, a plate of Rice, and meat with farofa temperada and vinagrete, ofc with a cup of guaraná.

They loved the languages, mostly mixing them up while talking fast so their parents would not understand what they were trying to say to one another, they still do that in faeryland. They loved understanding the music as well.

Abou the music, i picture them having so much fun dancing to the music at parties, learning coreographies or just spinning around to the songs.

I can perfectly see taryn sleeping in a chair late at night at a party (they grew up with noise, developing the ability to sleep anywere was a must) while jude and vivi tired themselfs out with a group of kids or older people learning the dancings and the meaning Behind them.

Carimbó was very common, they loved spinning around with their huge skirts full of colours, moving their bodies with the rithim

The books show us jude snapping and trying to rebel to somethings, i can see her pulling the seamstress aside to request her a bunch of lehengas with the other dresses, a Red one with Gold details, a Black one with Silver details, a water green one, a orange one etc... not even taryn knew about it, it was her secret small rebellion, they didnt take her for one them? Well she didnt either, she was human, a hot blooded human, and she was going to show them that

And after thinking about it for a sec she even asked for some more jewelry to madoc, indian jewelry, he gave her Gold and she went with vivi to the mortal world to buy them, vivi loved it, every second of it.

They came back with tons of jewelry and jude even got her nose pierced, it had the tiniest little Stone that she used to keep the perfuration from closing up, it was easy to cover up until the day of the revel

And she was especially exited when the day finally came

She had the complete package, the red lehenga that complemented her skin, a maangtika she wore with her hair down, for the first time in years, a nath on her nose, jhumkas in her ears, a haath phool in her hands, she even went to the human world to do some henna, she had never been more human in years, and she wasnt hating it.

She went down the stairs of her house feeling great, and the feeling grew at the compliments her family gave her, taryn was a bit on the jealous side but madoc told her not to complain, jude had the idea and made it come true, even after giving up one of the fabrics to make her happy.

Even vivi decided to go this once, she loved little acts of rebellion

Oriana was satisfied to see jude being less... the usual, for once, and even made a small talk about the outfit, jewelry and the meaning.

But a question Vivi ansewered herself:

"Oh, about the nose ring? Some women wore them as a symbol of marital status, but it has various meanings, womanhood, elegance, a sense of rebellion..."

She smiled to jude, eyes glowing as she smiled back

It was going to be fun, and jude couldnt wait for her blood to heat up again.

[mikaela-granger]

The Long Wait (Season 6) Chapter 2

Karma’s A Bitch

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N:  Sean continues preparing for his transition to Mayor only to find out others have different plans for him.

***Sean’s POV***

The sun had finally risen, and Sean was still at the precinct, running on very little sleep. When he had received the call that Bonaparte had been found dead, Sean couldn’t believe he had almost forgotten about that. Sean played his part, pretending to have no knowledge, asking how he died. Whoever had found him seemed to believe he had died of natural causes. He gave the caller permission to call for assistance. The body was picked up very quickly, thankfully before any of the children saw it.  Following that, Sean had a nerve-wracking call to advise those higher up that Bonaparte was dead, of apparently natural causes. There was, of course, disbelief about that being true. Surely the great Conrad Bonaparte didn’t meet his demise via natural causes. No doubt someone would be on their way to Portland soon to verify.

As luck would have it, the surveillance system at the North Precinct had gone down around the time Nick had been picked up. Meaning, there was no footage of the person or persons responsible for the massacre. There was also surprisingly little evidence that would aid in catching whoever was responsible. Still, knowing that people would turn to him for answers, Sean continued to act as if he were vested in the investigation. His only interest was in finding someone to shift the blame on to.

There was still no sign of his brother-in-law. No doubt he’d gone into hiding. Sean wasn’t sure how he could get the message to him that he wasn’t trying to kill him or arrest him. Hank and Wu were here, but there was no way in hell they would believe him. Neither would any of the others. Sean wasn’t even certain his wife would believe him at this point. Not that he could blame her. And it wasn’t as if he wanted to admit what had occurred the night before.

Sean was in his office when he received an unexpected visitor. “Jeremiah. Well, this is a surprise.”

The man was looking at him, a serious expression on his face. “We need to talk.”

Sean nodded. “Yeah, of course, come on in.” Sean told him. “Something about the campaign?”

Jeremiah had stepped further into his office by that point, turning to face Sean. “No, I don’t want to talk about the campaign.” He said his tone frustrated. “Shut the door.”

Sean wondered what this could possibly be about. “Alright.” Sean said as he moved to close the door. “What’s the problem?”

“Rachel Wood.”

Sean paused. Ah yes, the woman his daughter had killed. By this point Sean knew Rachel’s body had been found. Hank and Wu were working on the case. “Yes. Rachel’s death is a great loss. I assure you; it is being investigated.”

Jeremiah scoffed. “Your officers are investigating? That’s like a fox guarding the henhouse.”

Sean frowned. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“You were having an affair with her. And then you killed her to cover it up.”

Sean shook his head. “I was not having an affair with Rachel.” Sean insisted. “We worked together. Nothing more.”

Jeremiah shook his head. “That’s not what Rachel insinuated.”

Sean sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am aware of Rachel’s attraction to me; however, I assure you it was one sided.”

“If you weren’t sleeping with her, then why were you at her house so late last night?” Jeremiah asked. Sean froze. It certainly wouldn’t be a good look, having someone witness him at Rachel’s house the night of her murder. “I saw you go into her house. When I went in after you left, she was dead. I found her body.”

“Look, I didn’t kill Rachel.”

Sean’s denial seemed to fuel Jeremiah’s anger. “I loved her. And you killed her.” Jeremiah let out an angry laugh. “And now your precinct is the one investigating her murder.”

Sean couldn’t help but feel a little pity for the man. However, he was aware that his accusations, if made public, may not end well for Sean. “What do you want?”

“Justice.”

“And you will get that, once my officers track down the real killer.”

Jeremiah shook his head. “You are unbelievable. Still denying it.”

The man was starting to annoy him. “And how do you expect to get justice if you don’t trust the system?”

Jeremiah straightened up, his expression changing. “Why don’t you think about how much it’ll cost to keep my mouth shut? You got 24 hours before this city knows what a great family man you are. And, out of respect for Lorelei, because she is a good woman, I’ll tell her before I tell the media.”

Sean clenched his jaw, any pity he had for the man disappearing at the mention of his wife. Despite Sean knowing that none of Jeremiah’s accusations were true, he didn’t want his wife to experience anymore distress than she already was. Sean glared at the man as he left his office. He needed to do something about him before he started flapping his gums.

Less than an hour later, Sean was speaking with a prospective candidate who would be taking over his position as Captain. “As you know, the new Captain of this precinct will be reporting directly to the mayor’s office.” Sean explained to Lieutenant Grossante.

“I understand.” Grossante said. “It would be an honour to succeed you, sir.”

“Yes, I know. Before I announce my decision, you’re gonna have to prove your loyalty.” Sean told him, quickly glancing out the windows before leaning forward, his voice dropping. “And not just to the mayor’s office…but to me.”

A smirk crossed Grossante’s face as he also leaned forward. “I’m ready anytime…sir.”

“What are you doing here?”

Sean was standing at the door of Jeremiah Rogers apartment. He wanted to deal with this as quickly as possible. “I have what you asked for.” Sean said, holding the briefcase up, allowing Jeremiah to see it through the peephole of his door.

“How much?”

Sean sighed. “If you want it, open the door.”

A moment later the door was opened, revealing Jeremiah with a gun in hand. Sean stepped inside. “I guess you don’t trust me.” He commented as Jeremiah closed the door behind him.

Jeremiah moved to stand opposite Sean, gun directed towards him. “Show me the money.”

Sean opened the briefcase and turned it around, allowing Jeremiah to look at it. His eyes widened slightly before his gaze returned to Sean. “Now, how do I know you’ll stop threatening me.”

“You killed the woman I love. You don’t deserve an answer to that question.”

“I did not kill Rachel.” Sean said, trying to keep calm.

Jeremiah scoffed. “If you’re innocent, then wouldn’t have paid.”

“Oh, I’m not paying.” Sean said, slamming the briefcase closed. “You are.”

Jeremiah frowned as Sean’s gaze lingered at something behind him. Jeremiah barely had a chance to look behind him before Grossante grabbed the man, slicing his throat from behind. Jeremiah breaths turned to gurgles as he fell to his knees, his gaze still on Sean. For a moment, Sean was taken back to Meisner’s death, and the action Sean had taken to hasten it. Sean was brought back as Jeremiah’s body hit the floor with a thud.

Grossante woged back as his gaze fell on Sean. “Sorry about the blood sir.” He said, referring to the streak of blood that had hit Sean’s shirt.

Sean smirked at him. “It’ll wash out.” Grossante returned the smirk. “Congratulations on your promotion…Captain.” Briefcase of money in hand, Sean headed for the door. “And when you’re done cleaning up, come meet me back at the precinct.”

Grossante nodded. “Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”

Sean returned to the mansion to change his shirt. As he entered the bedroom, he found Adalind and Lorelei talking. His wife was laying down, a heat pillow resting on her forehead while Adalind was sitting beside her. Both women looked surprised to see him. “Why are you home?” Adalind asked.

“I need a shirt.” Sean told her as he removed his jacket. “Are you alright, mon amour?”

“Yeah. Just a bit of a headache.” Lorelei replied. “The heat pillow is helping though.”

Adalind frowned as she looked closely at his shirt. “Is that blood?”

“It’s not important.” He told her.

Lorelei sat up, removing the heat pillow. “Are you hurt?” She asked concerned.

“No.” He assured her. Accepting his answer, Lorelei laid back down, returning the heat pillow to its position.

Adalind looked suspicious. “What happened?”

“Well, someone thought I killed Rachel.” He answered as he unbuttoned the bloody shirt. “Thought it’d be worth a lot of money not to say anything.”

“So, that’s not your blood.” Adalind slowly asked.

Sean scoffed. “Blackmail is risky business.” Sean answered as he headed towards the closet.

“You know. I think I see some blood in your hair.” Adalind told him

Sean frowned. “Where?” He asked, lightly patting his head.

“Maybe you should take a shower.” Adalind suggested “You don’t want the girls to see blood in your hair…or anyone else either.”

Sean sighed. He needed to get back to precinct, but she was right. It wouldn’t be a good look if anyone were to see blood on his person. Dropping the bloodied shirt on the chair, he changed direction and headed to the bathroom. After washing himself thoroughly, just to make sure there was no blood left behind, he stared getting ready to go out again.

“Now that you’re here, why don’t you just stay home?” Adalind suggested as he combing his hair.

“I gotta get back to the office.”

“Why? We can make dinner.”

Sean shook his head as he finished up in the bathroom. “Can’t.” Sean told her.

Adalind sighed, glancing at Lorelei. It looked as if his beloved had fallen asleep. Good, she needed it. “Come on Sean. You’ve barely been home. You should spend some time with your family.”

Sean didn’t need that reminder or the guilt trip. He was aware he hadn’t been able to spend as much time with his family lately. But once he took office, he would be able to do that. “I understand.” Sean told her as he grabbed another jacket from the closet. “Just not tonight.”

 “Well, there are things we need to talk about.”

“Like what?” Sean asked, pulling the jacket on as he started making his way towards the door.

“Well, Diana for one.” Adalind said walking beside him.

Sean looked at her. “Diana? Why, did she kill somebody else?”

Adalind looked frustrated. “No, Sean. She hasn’t killed anybody else, but she has other issues.”

Sean was getting frustrated himself. The mother of his eldest was so much more needy than his wife. Lorelei understood his job meant he couldn’t be as involved in the parenting decisions as they’d both like. If there was something that needed to be discussed and he had to leave, she typically waited until later on when he could devote time and attention the issue. “Can we just talk about this later?” Sean asked continuing his journey to the door.

“You want to put off talking about your own daughter? I mean, what kind of father are you?” Adalind hissed angrily, glancing at Lorelei to make sure she didn’t wake her.

Sean sighed in frustration. “Ok, all right, what?” He asked stopping and turning to face the blonde.

He must have surprised Adalind, as she appeared lost for words for a moment. “Well, her education, for one.”

Sean stared at her, inwardly rolling his eyes. “Her education?” He asked, waiting for Adalind to elaborate. “What about it? I mean, she’s getting an education from you and Lorelei.”

“I’m working again. And in a few weeks, Lorelei is gonna have four children demanding her attention. It’s not fair to put Diana’s education solely on her.”

Sean sighed. That was true. Even with the addition of nanny’s, it was going to be hard on his wife. “I mean, maybe it’s time we send Diana to school.”

“Ok. But where?”

“I don’t know. Just pick a place. Whatever you and Lorelei decide, is fine by me.”

Adalind glared at him. “Ok. One, just because Diana has two mom’s, doesn’t mean you get to flake out on parenting decisions. And two, this is Diana. It’s not going to be that easy to ‘pick a place’.” Adalind said. “What if she gets into a fight with a kid on a playground, or what if one of her teachers give her a time-out? I mean, that might be a forever time-out for the teacher.”

“Well, we’ll just have to explain to her that there are certain boundaries, all right? We’ll work it out.” Sean said before trying to move past her to get to the door.

Adalind moved to stand in front of him again. “No, I mean, she – she can’t go to a public school. She can’t go to a private school. We certainly can’t homeschool her any longer.”

Sean sighed in frustration. “Can we deal with this later?” He asked her. This really was a conversation that they could have at a later time. When Lorelei was awake and could chime in. She probably had some ideas now that they had started integrating Diana into the world.

“But, if she doesn’t go to school, she won’t have any friends.” Adalind said looking panicked. “I mean, she’ll have no sleepovers, no playdates. She’ll have zero social skills. How are we going to deal with it?”

“Ok, all right, I get it. Ok.” Sean told her. He glanced at his watch before looking back at Adalind. “I guess I can be a little late. What’s on your mind?”

Adalind looked surprised that he had agreed to discuss this now. “Uh, well, a lot of stuff.

Sean sighed; Adalind had been prattling on for the better part of fifteen minutes. “Alright, look, maybe I haven’t given Diana’s education a lot of thought.” He admitted. “But considering everything that’s been going on recently? I mean, look, her education is just as important to me as it is to you and Lorelei.” He said as he stood up from the armchair, he had seated himself in. “But right now, I have to go.”

As he headed towards the door, Adalind ran around the front of him. “You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear you say that.” She said, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Sean was surprised at the sudden show of affection, especially coming from Adalind.

Sean gently untangled himself. “Adalind, please, I have to go.”

“I know you have to go.” She said loudly. “And that is why it is so amazing that you stayed here to talk about our daughter. You are an amazing father.”

Sean nodded, inwardly rolling his eyes at her antics. “Ok, yeah, I just –.” Sean trailed off as he heard his own voice coming from the TV. He turned to look at it.

“Citizens of Portland. It is with great sadness that I stand before you tonight. Now, I wish to say that I am profoundly grateful to the people of this wonderful city…”

“What the hell.” Sean hissed as he grabbed the remote to turn up the volume. It may have looked like him on the screen but that was not him.

“For electing me as their mayor. But it has become apparent that the recent attack on the North Precinct will require my full attention. And I am therefore, abdicating the mayorship.”

Sean felt white hot rage at those words. “What!” He shouted.

“I cannot, in good conscience, leave the police department at its time of greatest need.”

“When did you record this?” Adalind asked.

“I didn’t record this!” Sean angrily said. “It’s live!”

“The recent manhunt for Detective Nick Burkhardt was actually an undercover investigation staged to bring the real killer to justice.” Sean glared at the screen. There was never a manhunt for Nick. But at least he knew who was responsible for this. And there would be hell to pay. “And now, since this is an ongoing investigation, I cannot further comment but I would like to thank Detective Burkhardt for his exemplary work and congratulate him on a job well done.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Sean yelled, throwing the remote on the ground so hard it broke. “No!” Sean spun around to look at Adalind who was cowering against the wall, slowly sliding herself along it. No doubt heading towards his wife to use her as a human shield. “If I find out that you had anything to do with this…”

“What the hell is going on?”

Sean’s head wiped around the source of the voice. Lorelei was sitting up on the bed woken by his yelling. “Ask your friend.” Sean said in a low voice. He glared at Adalind one last time before leaving. He may not be working with Black Claw anymore, but he’d had every intention of retaining the mayorship. He needed to try and fix this mess.

A/N: It took me longer than expected to write that last portion. I keep laughing at Nick singing himself praises as Renard.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme, @nu1freakshow, @star-yawnznn, @bella250

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[tidemoonchild]

Earth-616 verse:

I finally sat down and tried to write Maggie's Earth-616 verse, with the little knowledge I've got about the comics and ofc with the help of my beloved Muffins. I tried to write this in a way that she kinda was part during some of the main events but without changing much about the canon except the fact that, well... she was there too... She was mostly a background character who was there and helped out here and there but that's kinda it. I explain it that this was due to Hank wanting to keep her away from everything and the little she did was her kinda disobeying him and doing it anyway. I also tried to write it, that most of her story kinda happened “off page” like meeting her father and trying to find her way back to her time etc. As I continue to read the comics this will get updated... eventually... maybe For this verse I also kept Maggie's mother unknown.

Born sometime in the future as the daughter of Hank McCoy, Maggie was abducted by an organization called HADES, when she was just a young child. Years later after multiple obstacles, she finally managed to find her way back home to her family. After an attack Maggie then ended up in the past after she lost control over her powers. Not able to return to her timeline, she took on her alias Mara Moon to hide her true identity.

Living on the streets for a while, she then met the younger version of her father, who offered his help to the young girl, not knowing that this was his own daughter. She was brought to live with him and the Avengers until they would figure out what to do with her, when it was finally revealed who she really was.

In an attempt to return to her own time, with the help of her father, Maggie managed to jump into the future but not into her own. Still stuck in the past she looked for her father, who had joined the X-Men again, and became a student of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. With the help of her father Hank, Charles Xavier and the other X-Men, she kept trying to learn to control her abilities and to find a way back to her time. During this time she kept jumping back and forth in time but never managed to reach her own.

After another failed attempt she landed days before the events of House of M that ended with the M-Day. Now facing bigger problems her attempts to get back to her time got less till they stopped completely for a while. Sometime after the events of M-Day, Maggie picked up where she had left and was able to make another jump, this time landing in a time where Xavier's School was destroyed and mutantkind lived in Utopia.

Not knowing where her father was, or where else to go, she also went to Utopia. When her father returned from his arrest by H.A.M.M.E.R. she moved in with him again until Maggie was recruited by Scott to protect Utopia from the several attacks. Against the will of her father, who wanted to keep his daughter out of fights, she left to help anyway, as she saw this as her duty.

Furious over this Hank took her back home with him, before she was able to really fight alongside the others. One day Logan decided to open a new school and asked Hank to join him to which he agreed. They moved into the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, where she became a student once again.

Much later she found herself on Krakoa, the living island for mutants. Still living with her father, she had to watch him turning and changing into a man she no longer recognized. Where at first he was only much more stricter and careful he started to turn cold and ruthless. Not able to reach him or talk sense into him, Maggie began to distance herself more and more from him. At one point Maggie ran away, unable to watch her father continue to turn into something she couldn't support but was also unable to fight against.

After Hank was reborn and left Krakoa with Simon, they went to look for her. Not knowing, that it was the old Hank and the father she loved, Maggie tried to flee but was stopped by Simon. He explained everything to her and while at first reluctant, she then agreed to return with Hank and Simon and to live with them.