#but If I'm not wrong it's been a while when she was last in expansion supply | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedge-page · 3 months

Text

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife drabble (?): Sundae Surprise

Notes: I've still got more adventures for these two, I'm just writing little scenes that may or may not be Canon and jumping around the timeline at this point idk just ENJOY THE IDEA OF IT:

- - - -

You're playing on the old Gameboy Joel dug up out of storage, legs propped up on the couch on this hot-ass-fuck Sunday afternoon. You had been given strict orders to take it easy and lounge these last few days before the baby arrives.

Easy.

Your thumbs are furiously clicking, eyebrowns furrowed as you try for the 23rd time to pass the level youre stuck on.

"Joel. Can you get me chocolate syrup and a can of cool whip."

"No. You've had too much sugar today. Need to keep your heart rate down, due any minute."

"Daddy..." you pout with a head tilt and innocent begging voice to entice him.

"Mmm," he mocks with a far cry minic of your high pitched tone, still not looking at you as he twiddles with his tools on the creaky bolts of the dining table. "Still no."

You roll your eyes, dropping the game box on the coffee table. You drumb your fingertips on your ever so quiet belly all scrunched up under your massive breasts.

You know for a fact this baby isnt coming any time soon since she's so silent today. Joel's been too overly anxious with the due date approaching literally this week. Keeps fixing shit around the house like it's going to make him ease his worry. He's already replaced the lightbulb in the bathroom that was perfectly fine, adjusted the creaky hinge of the front door, re-caulked the kitchen sink back splash, but damn the dining room table--which you have no idea had something wrong with it but Joel's been giving it hella attention while you sit around bored out of your mind.

Momma's instinct will tell you when this baby is ready to pop. But right now you NEED to guzzle chocolate syrup and whip cream down your throat like a frat party bukake or SOMEBODY (not to name any names--but its Joel) is sleeping on the couch tonight.

You think a little bit before it clicks.

You gasp excitedly--a little too over the top, "She's kicking!"

But Joel is so on edge he doesn't even question it, running straight for you and kneeling by the couch, his whiskers scratching the smooth expanse of your skin as he rests his ear flat on your belly.

"Hear that?" You encourage.

But it's quiet.

"No....no," but he wants to so badly, wants to believe his baby is gonna tell him something, and he thinks maybe ...? "wait, wait, yeah, she says 'daddy's here'--"

"No, she says bring me some fucking chocolate syrup and whip cream."

He pulls away and narrows his eyes at you before disappointingly getting on his feet and going to the fridge.

You eagerly tilt your head back, sticking your tongue out, hands clasped merrily as he presses the nozzle of the can and shhhhhh it into you mouth, getting revenge by intentionally over filling too much for you to be able to close your lips around it. Then he drizzles the chocolate syrup on top, making your mouth a vertical Sundae.

You try to swallow around the concoction, lips pursing to encase the top of the pile, but it's all too much and you choke a little bit, sending a miniaturized cannon of white cream and dark sauce splattering back on to Joel's nose.

With a gasping mouth full of ice cream toppings, you chortle over laughing and kicking your feet comically while clapping your hands, desperate to swallow the mess and breathe a lung full of air at the same time through your teary eyes.

Joel just puts his hands on his hips, letting you have your laugh at him.

Then you gasp out loud--the panicked, serious, bone chilling one where you stop laughing and kicking altogether, lips trembling and terrified as your hand drifts south to cup your lower belly, feeling a sudden rush of liquid staining your bum, and that dreaded big something has abruptly DROPPED inside you.

You slowly bring your wide eyes back at Joel, who's tight lipped gaze matches yours of tense panic despite the glob of Cool Whip hanging off his snout.

You gargle with the sugary fluffy dessert still in your mouth, "Mah wawa bwoke."

Series Masterlist

Permanent taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #joel dealing with preggo wife

284 notes · View notes

prythianpages · 6 months

Text

The Night Azriel helped her heal

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: fluff and some angst at the end, tamlin makes an appearance

summary: Valeria's injuries have healed but there are two aches that linger and Azriel is admanant in bringing back her light.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. I know I said this would be the last one but I decided there has been too much angst and thought we needed some fluff in between (:

Valeria stood at the edge of the balcony, her gaze fixed on the vast expanse below. She hesitated and took a couple steps back.

“I’m scared.”

A scarred hand reached for hers, stopping her from retreating any further. Her gaze traveled up until she met Azriel’s gentle gaze. His presence was reassuring as he stood beside her.

It had been a little over a month since the incident in Windhaven. Her wing had healed thanks to Madja’s healing hands, leaving only the trace of a scar. Madja had told her that she’d be able to fly again once it properly healed but it provided little comfort to her as the memories of that night tormented her every night. What if Madja was wrong?

Valeria felt her hand grow clammy within Azriel’s grasp and she instinctively started to withdraw but Azriel tightened his hold instead. His thumb rubbed soothing circles onto the back of her palm.

“What if I fall?”

Azriel’s chest tightened. He hated the fear in her voice, the uncertainty that clouded her eyes. He hated the effect those men still had on her but he was determined to prove her wrong, to bring back her confidence. He gave her a gentle smile.

“I’ll catch you.” He replied but was then quick to add: “But you won’t need me to.”

“Okay.” Valeria breathed as she faced the edge of the balcony again and stepped forward.

Azriel gave her a gentle squeeze before releasing her hand, taking a couple of steps back to allow her space. The cool breeze of Azriel’s shadows whispered around them, and the moon cast a silvery glow upon the world below. Her wings unfurled behind her, a display of midnight hues stretching wide. The full weight of them brought an ache to her injured wing.

Her heart fluttered in her chest and she took another deep breath. She heard the distinct sound of Azriel’s wings as he extended them. They casted a shadow behind her smaller form and brought her further comfort. He would be right behind her.

Before her thoughts could convince her otherwise, she jumped off the balcony of the House of Wind. She winced at the discomfort from her scarred wing and she struggled to balance herself in the air. Her descent became a panicked fall but only for a fleeting moment. She pushed past the discomfort and extended her wings further, gaining control and finding her balance within the air as she glided.

Then, she was flying.

Her heart still fluttered against her chest but it was no longer anxiety that quickened it. It danced to the familiar melody of excitement as the adrenaline that usually accompanied her when flying coursed through her veins.

Azriel was flying at her side and he extended his hand, an invitation to soar through the night together. She accepted, their fingers intertwining and a smile gracing her lips that had Azriel’s own heart fluttering at the sight.

As they soared higher, they weaved through the outlines of clouds and Valeria laughed as one particular cloud had Azriel grimacing. The stars in her violet eyes had returned, dispelling any lingering fear she had. A mischievous glimmer was among them as she let go of Azriel’s hand.

“Catch me?”

“Always.”

Azriel told himself he would stop seeking moments alone with her, making sure that there was always someone else present. He could hardly resist himself around her. His control around her was slim to none and it was dangerous. He decided to spend the night at the House of Wind after one of his missions to keep himself from visiting Valeria’s room at the moonstone palace but as he had retreated to his room for the night, he could sense her presence in the same house. He could feel her fear too.

When his shadows brought him to her, he had found her at one of the balconies. She had not hidden her wings to allow them to properly heal and he had noticed the subtle twitch of them as she gazed longingly at the starry sky.

He allowed her a couple of moments to give her a head start and then he was soaring after her, a wave of affection and warmth surging through him as her laughter echoed in the crisp night air.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Valeria replied as she walked into the dining area. The house switched out the chair beside Cassian’s for one that had no back to accommodate her wings. She smiled in thanks as she took a seat beside Cassian.

Cassian ruffled her hair with a fond smile, earning himself a glare. He chuckled in response and then stuffed his mouth with scrambled eggs. “Where else can I enjoy a free and delicious breakfast?”

A plate full of her favorite breakfast food, french toast and fruit appeared in front of her along with a hot cup of coffee. She took delight in the scent of cinnamon and dark sugar. The house of wind had remembered the way she enjoyed her coffee.

“The Moonstone palace felt suffocating.”

“You should’ve brought Mor with you so you wouldn’t be alone or let me know. I would’ve stayed the night here.”

“I wasn’t alone.” Valeria said mindlessly.

Cassian opened his mouth to ask, wondering if Rhysand had joined her, but he found his answer at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Good morning, Az.” His eyes narrowed as Azriel silently took the seat across from him. “You didn’t tell me you were staying here.”

Azriel speared a piece of meat on his plate with his fork. “I didn’t know I had to inform you of my whereabouts.”

Cassian rose a brow at Azriel’s snappy tone.

“I’m going to continue training.”

Silence fell. Azriel hastily swallowed a big bite of his food, and Cassian’s eyes widened slightly, both momentarily taken aback by Valeria’s outburst. Blinking at her in unison, they turned their full attention to Valeria, who set her fork down to explain herself.

“Although it was my training that led to the–” Valeria grimaced as her mind searched for the right word”--incident, it was my training and powers that saved me. I want to be better.”

Valeria had done a lot of thinking while she was healing. Cassian and Azriel didn’t get to check up on her as they had wished as they were bombarded with tasks. Perhaps, this was another form of punishment from her father or punishment toward Cassian and Azriel for harboring her secret. Mor, Rhysand and her mother took turns attending to her bedside but the moments she was alone, her mind inevitably drifted to thoughts of the Illyrian males she killed and the way their voices and screams followed her, even after their deaths. She had let Rhysand into her mind and showed him everything. He had paled as he lived through her memory himself and afterwards, he had promised he would help her harness her powers and if she was up to it, he would help her continue to train.

“I don’t feel remorse for killing them.”

She replayed the haunting memories of that night hundreds of times. It was scary and shocking at first–the mere fact that she was capable of killing. She surprisingly didn’t feel guilty over their deaths. She didn't feel anything. Sure, they had families but they weren’t innocent. They had a long history of abusing the females of Windhaven, her best friend included, and of clipping their wings. They had attacked her. She would do it again if she had to.

“Good.”

“They deserved it.” Cassian nodded, agreeing with Azriel. “But what about–”

“I can’t continue training with the Valkyries but I can still train here. Rhysand offered to teach me. He already managed to convince the High Lord.” Valeria interrupted. Her expression turned sullen and her wings slouched behind her. “At least the High Lord listens to him.”

Her father had not been happy that Rhysand had intervened in her punishment but other than a glare, he had not reprimanded Rhysand, even though he had taken full blame for killing the Illyrian males. He misted the bodies away to hide the evidence of their true nature of death. Her brother thought it was best to keep her abilities and powers hidden for now, fearing that if their father knew, he would take advantage of Valeria.

“I’ll join in training you.”

Valeria lifted her gaze and met Azriel’s.

“I think it’d be best if I helped train her.” Cassian said, sending Azriel a glare.

“Please don’t feel obligated to do so. I have already asked enough from you by forcing you to keep my secret.” Valeria replied, her gaze shifting between the two males, a sense of confusion settling in. Why were they glaring at each other? Had she missed something?

“It’s settled then.” Cassian tore his gaze away from Azriel. “We’ll both join Rhys for your training. When are you starting?”

Valeria grinned. “Later on in the evening. Rhys is bringing that guy from Spring since he’s taken him under his wing. What was his name again? Tamarind or something.”

“Tamlin.” Azriel corrected, his stomach churning at the name as his shadows reminded him of the Spring court’s youngest son and the way he had looked at Valeria during the High Lord Dinner. He rose from his seat. “I have to go and take care of some assignments now if I want to make it back in time.”

As he strolled toward the exit, passing by Valeria, he didn’t miss a beat and leant down to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. Cassian’s glare reappeared but quickly transformed into a look of pure shock as Azriel, sporting a smirk, replicated the gesture on his cheek.

Azriel left without uttering another word, his shadows trailing behind him.

“Did he just–”

“Yup.” Valeria stifled a giggle behind her hand, fingers pressed against her cheek to conceal the rising blush. “What do you have planned for the morning?”

“I have to return to Windhaven and speak with the other generals in an hour or two.”

“Lovely.” Valeria replied with a mischievous grin. “Then, you have enough time to accompany me to the library and visit a dear old friend.”

Cassian’s body tensed and he shot her a wry look. He then cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance. He stood from his seat. “You know what, I think I should actually get going now.”

"Bryaxis asked about you," Valeria murmured, her fingers deftly weaving through Cassian's long hair as she fashioned it into a braid. Despite his initial request for a bun, she had convinced him that a braid was more practical for training. It was an argument made on a whim when the truth was, she simply enjoyed braiding his hair. Rhysand and Azriel’s hair was too short. “He misses you.”

Seated on the training grounds, Cassian paused in his task of sharpening Valeria's dagger, giving her a bemused side-eye.

Her laughter bubbled forth, and she playfully tapped his shoulder, signaling the completion of her handiwork. Her day had consisted of helping out in the library but she hadn’t visited Bryaxis at all.

Azriel stepped out from the shadows on the rooftop of the House of Wind, his shadows melding seamlessly with the surroundings. The smirk on his face was evidence that he had been lingering longer than he let show. “Don’t scare him like that, Val. He might just piss his pants again.”

Cassian withdrew from Valeria, rising to his feet with an abrupt motion. He shot her a pointed glare that had Valeria turning to Azriel. She raised her eyebrows silently questioning him.

"You promised it would remain our secret!" Cassian exclaimed. He was then raising the sleeve of his leathers up, revealing the small intricate tattoo of a crescent moon and sword overlapping one another that had etched itself onto his skin after he had caught her training with the Valkyries.

A bargain had been struck that night–a secret for a secret–as Valeria knew that the only way to keep him quiet was to bring back the embarrassing memory of Cassian and Valeria’s encounter with the darkness that lurked within the library. His tattoo matched the one at her side, near her ribcage and for many years, it remained often hidden by her clothes. Of course Azriel had noticed her tattoo one night and driven by curiosity, he had sneakily extracted the truth out of her in a way that didn’t dishonor her bargain.

“Does this mean nothing to you?”

“Cas–”

A sudden gust of wind swept through the training grounds, accompanied by the melody of wings slicing through the air. Rhysand appeared alongside a hawk, both of their keen eyes scanning the scene. Valeria appeared flustered, Cassian was sulking and Azriel wore a smug demeanor. Rhysand touched down on the ground with a questioning look. “Do I want to know?”

“No.” Both Cassian and Valeria replied in unison, whipping their heads to Rhysand with matching glares as they felt the subtle intrusion of his talons attempting to slip into their minds.

Their attention then shifted to the hawk just in time to see it transform into a high fae form. A male emerged from the blinding gold light, greeting them with a shy hello.

“Tamlin, you’ve met these fools before.” Rhysand remarked, nodding his head toward his sister and friends. “Val, Cas and Az.”

“Drop and give me thirty.”

Valeria gaped at her brother who smirked at her in return. He reached forward, using a finger to close her mouth. “You think just because I am your brother I’ll go easy in training you?”

With a huff, Valeria complied with the training exercise. Tamlin joined her while Cassian and Azriel continued their own stretches and exercises. Much to her dismay, her warm up did not end after her push ups. Rhysand had her and Tamlin running around the training grounds with a variety of demanding exercises.

The exhaustion was beginning to settle in and Valeria’s breaths came in labored gasps by the time Rhysand tossed her a sword. Her only relief was that Tamlin appeared to be more winded than her. Rhysand allowed him to sit on one of the benches and take a break as he was a beginner.

The glint of steel caught the sunlight as it began to set. Valeria readied herself for the next phase of the training, her muscles burning with effort. The air was charged with an energy of determination. She pushed past her exhaustion against Rhysand’s strike.

She was agile and fierce, dancing through her maneuvers. Rhysand, equally formidable, moved with a grace that mirrored her own. Amidst the sparring, Tamlin found himself drawn to Valeria’s prowess. His eyes involuntarily followed her every move, captivated by the fluidity of her motions.

Valeria was unaware of the attention, her focus solely on refining her skills. Azriel, always perceptive, noticed Tamlin’s lingering gaze, lips pressed into a taut line. His fleeting moment of distraction resulted in Cassian landing a blow to his side, knocking the wind out of him.

The moon was shining upon them when Valeria finally bested her brother with a triumphant grin. She dropped her sword, letting it clatter onto the grounds. Glasses of cold, refreshing water appeared on one of the empty benches and Valeria made her way to them, murmuring a small thanks to the house.

“You’re good.”

Valeria turned around to find Tamlin. “Thanks.”

“I can’t help but ask why you train?” His voice carried genuine curiosity. “Shouldn’t you–”

“Be off learning how to be a good wife instead?” She interrupted.

Tamlin’s green eyes were widening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay.” Valeria softly chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “I train because I simply want to.”

The night continued on with another hour of training. When Valeria had settled herself onto the training grounds, her muscles were screaming. Rhysand was instructing Tamlin and showing him a couple of Illyrian methods but Valeria’s attention was focused on Cassian and Azriel sparring. They had stripped off their shirts and Valeria couldn’t help but admire the glisten to Azriel’s sweaty skin and the every movement of his muscles.

The soft glow of faelight filled the room as Valeria stepped out from her bathroom, her aching muscles slightly soothed by the hot bath the house had drawn for her. She approached the piano in her room, the exact same model as the one she had back at the Moonstone palace. There was another in one of the living room of the house as it was a necessity for her wherever she stayed. The instrument, once a source of solace and joy, now seemed to echo the void left by the absence of her beloved bird, Noctis. Her fingers ghosted over the keys in hesitation. She hadn’t played since his death.

A knock on her door had her turning away from the piano. She opened the door slightly, eyes widening when she found Azriel standing on the other side. She hadn’t expected him to visit. While Rhysand had gone to drop Tamlin off, he had planned to also spend the night at the house. His hands were behind his back as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“I have something for you.”

“For me?” She echoed curiously. Stepping back, she welcomed him inside, making sure to shut the door behind him. When she turned to face Azriel again, one of his hands was nervously rubbing at his neck while the other remained behind his back.

“This was meant to be your birthday present but it wasn’t ready in time.” Azriel said, his gaze flickering toward the piano in her room before meeting hers again. “I was going to give it to you when I saw you next at the Moonstone palace but I didn’t expect to find you here last night so...”

“What is it?” Valeria asked, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what he hid in his hand. The air between them carried a mix of anticipation and unspoken emotions.

With a timid smile, Azriel brought his hand forward, revealing a delicate jewelry box adorned with intricate carvings reminiscent of the ink on his skin. Her violet eyes glimmered in surprise as he presented his second gift to her. The first had been a beautiful pair of sapphire earrings.

Accepting the box into her hands, she marveled at its size, now appearing larger in her grasp than in his. Opening it, she uncovered a miniature figure inside. It was not just a jewelry box but a music box as well. A beautifully painted raven, a replica of Noctis, was perched on the tiny stage within. As the lid lifted, a familiar melody filled the air–the very tune Valeria and Noctis used to sing together.

“How?” She whispered.

“I know the melody by heart and found someone to help me record it. I crafted the box myself, which is why I couldn’t finish it in time. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Her breath caught as she traced the delicate details of the music box. Warmth flooded her heart. Azriel, always attuned to her emotions, knew. Despite not seeing each other often the past couple of weeks, he knew that the piano, once a shared sanctuary for Valeria and Noctis, now held bittersweet memories that seemed to weigh on her heart. He was determined to help her heal and bring back the joy to her life, recognizing that music and flying were among her greatest pleasures.

Tears welled in her eyes and Azriel’s shadows were curling against his ears. His eyebrows furrowed as he hesitantly asked, "Do you not like it?"

“It’s perfect.” Valeria shook her head, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. "I love it."

Azriel, relieved and touched by her genuine appreciation, found himself caught in the vulnerability of the moment. His hand caressed her face and as their eyes locked, they shared a tender gaze– a silent acknowledgment of the emotions that lingered deep within them. He ignored the warning bells in his head, pushed past Cassian’s warning voice. He was already breaking his self-imposed rule of being alone with her.

Just for this one more moment, he told himself.

He leant down to match her height and tenderly peppered her face with kisses, each one a gentle reassurance that he would always care for her. As he kissed away the tears that escaped her eyes, she pressed herself closer to him and he embraced the forbidden sweetness of their stolen moments, fearing that the day they’d have to come to a full stop.

They remained in each other’s arms for a while longer until Azriel’s shadows were standing taut and alerting him of Rhysand’s return. It was only then that he pulled away and whispered a soft “goodnight, Val” as the sweet melody of the jewelry box slowly faded into the quiet night.

The next morning, Valeria found herself drawn to the piano once more. This time, the melancholy had lifted. As her fingers danced across the keys, Azriel could hear from his room, content in knowing that he had helped mend the fragments of her broken song.

A/N: i'm assuming since Tamlin can shift into a beast, he can also shift into other animals? I only included the hawk thing bc I found it too funny if Rhys was carrying Tamlin lol. the song I imagined Val and Noctis to sing a lot is David Bowie's As the World Falls Down. It's such a beautiful song and I feel like it captures a desire to escape from reality, which is fitting for Az and Val. Here's a music box version of it, if you're curious. the next part will be the last imagine before I start on the storyline but there will probably be more additions in the future like cas and val meeting bryaxis and maybe more moments between her and cas

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel x rhysand's sister #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #acotar #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #rhysand's sister #acosm

186 notes · View notes

itsphoenix0724 · 5 months

Text

Meet Me On The Ice (Azriel x reader)~Chapter 2

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.3k

MMOTI masterlist

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! I've been working on this series for a while, and I'm glad people are excited to read it! I've decided to make a tag list for this series because so many people asked for it last time. I've never done one before so I hope I do it right <3

DISCLAIMER: I am not a figure skater or a hockey player, so while I'm trying to be as accurate as possible, it's likely some things may not be correct and/or are bent a little to fit the plot!

You find Azriel on the ice at five pm sharp, his hands tucked in the pockets of a Velaris Univeristy hoodie. His eyes flick over you, almost with disgust, as you approach with a box tucked under your arm.

“We’re not going on the ice today. Even if we were you can’t wear those.” You gesture to the well-loved hockey skates on his feet, and mark how his eyes narrow.

“What’s wrong with my skates?” He asks, immediately on the defense, crossing his arms.

It makes him seem impossibly bigger.

“Nothing Azriel, if you’re playing a hockey game, but we’re not playing a hockey game.” You shake the box in your hands once before handing it over to him. The pair of shiny black figure skates sit in the box and Azriel takes one skate out running his scarred hand gently over the blade with a musician’s grace. “You should break them in before we actually get on the ice.”

“They’re heavier than I thought they would be,” Az tucks the skates gently back in the box and moves past you to get off the ice. He sits down on the bench, leaning down to undo his laces. “Where are we practicing then, if we’re not going on the ice?’ He looks up at you from under the dark fringe of his hair, and you’re struck with his beauty for a moment.

“We’re going to the studio in the back.” You make a gesture with your head as he stands, crowding your space. You have to crane your neck to look up at him, and you can’t even see around the expanse of his shoulders. Leading back him to the studio you walk in tense silence. Your coach, a beloved old lady named Alis, waiting infront of the mirror examines Azriel like a piece of meat.

“So, this is who you’re finishing the season with?” She looks him up and down with mild interest as you dip your chin in confirmation, setting your bag down to start warming up. Alis circles like a predator as Azriel watches with confused disinterest. “Nice build at least, looks strong if a little bulky for my taste,” she mutters. Azriel whips his head back at you in defense, but all you can do is breathe a sigh of relief. Getting Alis to agree to train someone other than Lucien was half the battle. “Alright, stretch, then I’ll see what I’m working with. Hopefully, we can piece together some semblance of a routine,” She shakes her head as you turn to Azriel.

“Do you want me to help you stretch?” You question and Azriel’s brows raise high, a smirk across his lips for just a moment at an insinuation you didn’t imply. Your cheeks tinge with

pink, and his eyes dip to your cheeks, satisfaction from rattling you dances in his eyes. “Not like that obviously,” You scoff, rolling your eyes and busying yourself with digging out your water bottle so you have an excuse to turn away from him.

“I don’t think I need to stretch like this is a ballet class, I can stretch myself” He shakes his head and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Let him dig his grave. You know he’s doing you a favor, but he doesn’t have to be so condescending about it. You fall into a spilt to stretch your legs and Azriel looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You finish your warm-up, and Az remains leaning against the wall, stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. He stretched his arms out a little and nothing else, so it’s his fault if he’s sore tomorrow.

“Alright,” Alis claps her hands together once, and both your attention’s snap to her like a knee-jerk reaction. You guess being coached vigorously for years can do that to a person. “Let’s see if we can get something together. Young man, stand here please.” She gestures to a spot on the floor and then calls your name, telling you to stand infront of Azriel.

You’ve never been so close to him before.

Your entire back pressed against his front, the sight in the mirror sends you a strange feeling in your stomach. His frame dwarfs you easily, the broad planes of his shoulders and the muscles of his arms strain against the compression shirt he had on for practice.

You could climb him like a tree

The thought hits you so suddenly that you feel the heat flood your cheeks as you finally meet hazel eyes in the mirror. If he noticed you ogling him, he thankfully says nothing.

You go over some transition moves which go shockingly okay, Az picks up on the rhythm surprisingly quickly body flowing like a river easily through the steps. You make a mental note to ask Rhys if Az plays an instrument. Alis looks impressed for a first practice, and you two were so concentrated you haven’t bitten each other’s heads off yet.

Until you start to try a couple of lifts.

Everything goes downhill from there. Az manages to get you in the air a couple of times, but it’s never stable. Either you’re too tense or his grip is all wrong, and you’ve hit the ground and Azriel’s shoulder too many times to count. You both are frustrated and then the harsh words start.

“Can you just fucking relax already so we can get this over with? Aren’t you supposed to know what you’re doing?” he growls out after Alis calls for a water break.

“Maybe if you could just get your stupid hands in the right position I could fucking relax,” You glower down at Azriel’s scarred hands and he shoves them in the pockets of his sweats angrily. You feel a wave of guilt instantly because that was possibly the worst thing you could say.

“It’s not working because you don’t trust each other,” Alis mutters, rolling her eyes as she tries to figure out something on her cellphone. “I’m going to suggest maybe spending some time together outside of this. To build some trust between the two of you.” You and Azriel eye each other with equal distaste. “Think about it, we’re done here for the day.” You’re frustrated, you’re sweating, and you’ve hit your hip enough times you think it’s been permanently bruised. You pack up your bag slinging the duffel over your shoulder, he copies your actions putting his new skates to the bottom of his hockey bag. You leave the rink together in silence, breathing in the chill of the night's dark air, letting it calm the flames of your ever-growing temper. You want to go home, you want to bury yourself under mountains of pillows and ice cream and scream at the unfairness of the world. The last thing you need is a group of drunk hockey players rallying after a loss.

And of fucking course they’re right next to your car.

Azriel’s about to walk in the other direction to his car, but you in a blind panic grab his arm.

“Walk me to my car.” You plead, eyes widening at the sound of a bottle smashing against the ground. “Please.” Azriel's eyes narrow in confusion before they flick over to the crowd of rowdy men. He nods once and you begin the trek across the parking lot with a sizeable distance between the two of you. They still stop and look at you, eyeing you like a piece of meat. Azriel notices, in a quiet observant way of his. He moves closer to you slinging one arm around your waist, it burns through your clothes like a brand. They wisely back off then with all of Az’s towering physique wrapped around you like a guard dog. He opens your door for you and shoves his phone in your hand, still eyeing the group like he’s about to pounce.

“Put your number in my phone, it’ll be easier for the future.” He’s still looking at the guys out of the corner of his eyes as you type your number. “Drive home safely,” Az mutters.

“You too,” you respond. You settle into your car, and Azriel waits patiently for you to back out and drive away before walking to his own car.

Taglist:

sidthedollface2, bionic-donut, lyinginameadow, feyretopia, natashachelsea, going-through-shit, mika-no-sekai-blog, hijabi-desi-bookworm, brandywineeeee

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #Meet Me On The Ice

145 notes · View notes

mayfieldss · 1 year

Note

this is a bit of an angsty request but could you do a jj x reader where the reader is kinda in the middle of a kook/pouge but is diagnosed with an aggressive leukemia? jj visits her during treatments and when she starts to loose her hair helps her shave it? maybe altnerste endings with mourning/survival? but if you’re not comfortable you don’t have to do it!

I've never written something like this before, and i have to admit it was an emotional challenge. I did some research to try and get details right because I wanted to do this justice for you. I hope you like it, and I'm sorry if you or someone else you know is or has gone through something similar. Lots of love, your author, Eva xxx

the alternate ending is posted here!

Would it not kill to say goodbye? - JJ Maybank

Content warnings: mentions of chemo and its after effects (throwing up, losing hair, etc.) Mentions of death / dying.

"When I scream, you're my echo. Will you cry if I let go?" - Gracie Abrams

When you were first diagnosed, JJ was with you. You'd been sick for a while, and it was bad. You knew that much, but when they told you what was wrong, it was like the world stopped spinning. Like someone hit pause, and you were left to sit and breathe in the news you had just received. You had leukemia, and it wasn't at all kind to you.

But JJ had been with you, and while you sat processing the news, he held your hand. "You've got this, okay? You're gonna fight it." That's what he'd said to you, trying to keep a reassuring smile on his face. You never told him how you saw the way his lips faltered, how his eyes welled up with tears. You let him be strong for you because you couldn't handle anything else.

JJ wanted you to try everything. Every treatment he could find on the internet, he would broach to your parents, who, as kooks, had a large expanse of money to spend on your wellbeing. Your parents liked him, despite JJ's famous last name, and his Pogue upbringing, they saw how much he cared. Whether they tolerated him just because you were sick or because they really felt something decent for him, you didn't know, but you knew you needed him. And he needed you. He would tell you late at night when he would stay with you, say those three words when he thought you were asleep. "I need you."

When the cancer became your new normal, it seemed like everything might be okay. Just because the routine you fell into made it seem like it would last forever. It might last forever, but at least it wouldn't kill you. Of course, that fantasy didn't last long, and it would hit you just how sick you were with every chemotherapy session you went to.

JJ would visit you during treatments and talk piles of shit about Topper and Rafe that would get you smiling again, but deep down, he was losing it. Hearing the beeping of machines, inhaling the overly sterile scent of the hospital every time he went to your treatments, it was damn near impossible for him to keep it together. But he did, for you.

"How you feeling today?" He dares to ask it, eyes scanning over you and begging whoever can hear his thoughts to give him back the you that came before the cancer.

You're tired, and when you blink your eyes stay closed for longer than they should. "Fine, Jay."

The words come gently from your lips, but that doesn't stop them from cutting like a knife. They tear apart the inner most pieces of JJ because he knows they aren't true. Because he knows you're lying to him. "You can tell me if it's bad, you know." He reaches a hand out, placing it atop your knee. You smile, and that's all you do. That's all you're willing to give him, and JJ lets it sink in. That smile, that once upon a time was brighter.

Two nights later, JJ gets a call. It's you on the other end of the line, with voice shaky, and he can hear you shuffling about through the phone. "Can you come over?" You sound scared, and that, in turn, terrifies JJ.

"Y/N, what's going on?"

There's a pause, and JJ thinks maybe you've passed out before he hears you exhale. "Can you just come over?" Your voice echoes, and JJ knows you're in the bathroom now. He's already halfway out the door when you ask again, jumping on his bike and shivering in the nights cold air. "I'm on my way, baby."

And he is. After hanging up, he's at your house in ten minutes, which was nearly impossible unless he was speeding, which, of course, he was. He's willing to risk crashing his bike for you a million times over, and when he pulls up, skidding up the driveway, your parents are at the door. They stand solemnly in wait, and that makes JJ's heart beat so much faster than before. How bad is it? Is this the end? He's being dramatic, he hopes, but as he approaches the door, jogging up to your parents, the thoughts race.

"Is she okay?" They're the first words to leave his lips, and he has to admit he's looking straight past your mother and father and into the house, hoping to see you over their shoulders.

"She asked for you. She wouldn't let us help her." It's your mother who says it, and she glances at her husband, tears in her eyes. "She's upstairs."

JJ tries his best to acknowledge them, a nod what he gives in response before your parents’ step aside, and JJ rushes into the house to find you. He takes the stairs two at a time, calling out your name and not caring about waking the neighbours in the quiet of the night.

He finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub with wet cheeks, tears still escaping your eyes. You've got a clump of hair in your hand, and upon seeing it, JJ understands his purpose here. He gets why you called. He knows why your tears fall relentlessly. You're losing your hair thanks to the chemo, and the problem with that is that now it feels real. It feels real to you and JJ, and with every second of silence that passes, that fact sinks further into JJ's bones. You really are sick, and it's starting to show.

"Hey baby, what you got there?" He knows what it is. You know he does, too, as he comes to sit beside you on the edge of the tub.

"My hair." It comes as a sniffle, JJ pulling you into his side with an arm over your shoulder.

"You want me to glue it back on?" JJ asks, squeezing your bicep and feeling a heavy breath leave him when you rest your head on his shoulder. You're quiet for a moment, and JJ lets you be, sitting in silence with you until you can find it in yourself to answer.

"I wanna shave it all off." It's sudden, but JJ doesn't act surprised. It would have had to happen at some point. You both knew it.

"You sure?" His voice is quiet, and he's staring at the tiles on the wall opposite him, trying to hold onto the fact you're still here. The cancer hasn't taken you yet. You nod, head moving against his shoulder, and JJ reminds himself that your loss of hair doesn't mean you're getting worse. It's a side effect of chemotherapy, the thing that's helping you fight this. You're fighting this.

"Okay," JJ stands slowly, giving you time to part yourself from him so he can do so. "Let's chop off those locks." He tries for a smile, and when you send him one back, he feels better. He hopes you do, too.

"So, you're going for a Professor X kinda vibe here, right?" You're situated in front of the mirror now, JJ, behind you with his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. You laugh at his comment, no matter how insensitive, because you know he means well. He always does.

"I was thinking more Vin Diesel, but Professor X could work too." JJ kisses your neck as you say it, the touch tickling as his hair falls into his face just a little. You feel loved, and that is the best thing you could ask for in this moment.

"You ready hairdresser?" You tap JJ's forearm, and he squeezes you just a bit tighter, lips pressing to your cheek to give you yet another kiss.

"Oh, I'm ready, babe. I have such a vision for your new look. You're a wonderful muse."

Grabbing the scissors and hair clippers is the first step, and it takes a little longer than it should to find the tools, most likely because you're avoiding the places where such things will actually be, but finally you end up back in front of the mirror again, JJ at your side as the hair clippers buzz in his hand.

"Ready?" His voice is steady, reassuring, and you nod to him with a smile.

"As I'll ever be."

When it's done, you're smiling. You're smiling and you're laughing. In fact, through the entire process of buzzing your hair off JJ had been making you laugh until your ribs ached with the weight of it all. You'd squealed with nerves and ran around the small space of the bathroom, and you'd kissed JJ until you could hardly breathe. Never in your life did you think it could be possible to find joy in shaving your head because of something so horrible as cancer, and yet here you were finding peace with it all. Of course, there were moments. Times when you'd pause your laughter to run a hand over your head, which now lacked the expanse of hair it once had. But then JJ would make some sort of comment, a joke that had you giggling again. Or he would dig his fingers into your sides, distracting you with the art of tickling. And when none of that worked anymore, he was serious. It was quiet, and you stared at yourself in the mirror, all your hair at your feet, and JJ stood at your side, looking at you and only you.

His smile is one to die for, and while it's not as wide as usual, it's there, small, sweet, and genuine. "You're so fucking amazing." His words bring your attention to him, and when your eyes lock with his everything feels all right. At that moment, everything is all right.

When you leave the bathroom to face your parents, arm around JJ's waist and his over your shoulders, their jaws drop. They knew what you were doing of course and had offered to help you themselves, but you asked for JJ. You always would. Their mouths fall open nonetheless because even though they saw it coming, they aren't used to seeing you like this. Still, when they find it in themselves to close their gaping jaws, there is a smile on their faces. It's easier for them now, not to cope with, but to understand.

They tell you just how great you look, and JJ agrees with them, kissing the top of your newly shaved head as you move to the living room to watch TV. JJ will stay for a while, keeping you company with your newfound self, and soon he'll leave, but only if you ask him to. He'd stay with you forever with only the clothes on his back if he could, and you've given him the chance to do so for now.

Over the next few months, you get worse, fatigue taking over your body as it grows weaker by the day. The chemo hardly does a thing to push back the cancer, and for a while, you ignored that fact. Everyone did. The Pouges, your parents, you, and JJ acted as though it was a simple misunderstanding between you and the sickness and that you'd sort it out as soon as you could get in touch with it. You'd find Leukemia's number, call her, and explain just how she was affecting you. She'd apologise, and finally, the cancer would leave. But of course, that's not how it works. And so, as you got sicker, everyone grew sadder, you included. It's not as easy to live out your final days happy like in the movies. The characters smile, travel the world, make love, and make peace with everything they've ever broken. But it's not that easy, and you don't think it ever will be. Your life is not a film that you can put a joyful filter on, but it is your own, and as you descend into madness, you write letters. It's hard to do, but if you get to control anything about your death, it'll be this. Your final words to all the people that matter. And so, you write. One for your parents, one for each of your friends, kook, and Pogue alike, and of course one for JJ. It's a fallback, a safe way to go, in case you don't have time to say goodbye to any of them, and it means a lot to you.

JJ doesn't want his when you give it to him. He pushes it back into your grasp, turning away with hands pulling at his hair. It's devastating to see, and as JJ stands there unable to look at you everything seems a whole lot worse. "You're not gonna die, Y/N." he rests his forehead against the wall in front of him, and you stare at his back, the muscles tensing and relaxing over and over under the fabric of his shirt. "You're not dying, you're just not."

You would walk to him, but you don't have the energy, and you're not sure you ever will again. "JJ, I am. We have to accept that." You hear him suck in a sharp breath as you say it. "Please, Jay. Just take the letter and read it once I'm gone."

He doesn't say anything. JJ just stands there, facing the wall as he cries. He does it silently and refuses to show you his face. He doesn't want you to know, and he sucks in every sob, keeping his body as still as possible so you don't see the heaving of his chest. He's broken, and he can't lose you, not yet. But he can't say anything, and he can't accept the letter. When you speak again the tears burning against his eyes fall faster.

"I know we didn't turn out the way we were supposed to, but this doesn't change the fact that we were something. We were something great, and after I'm gone, I want you to remember that. So, please JJ, take the letter." That sends JJ over the edge.

"We are something great, Y/N. You're using past tense as if you're already dead! Like you don't want to fight this anymore!" His words come fast, pouring from his mouth like a fountain of all his worst fears. "Why won't you fucking fight this?" He's turned to face you and his face is red with the pain of his anger, his sadness, and everything in between. He needs you, and he can't just let you stop trying.

"I don't want to fight this anymore, JJ. It's not worth it."

"Oh," JJ lets out a frustrated laugh, one that rings out across the room. "So living just isn't worth fighting for?" He knows it's not your fault you're sick, and he knows you're in pain, but he is too.

"JJ, it's not like that." You don't bother shouting back, you can't. Instead, you pull a blanket over yourself and lie down, turning to face the inner side of the couch you're on with your back to JJ. The tables have turned now, and something clicks in JJ's mind. He's losing you before you're even gone.

Slowly, JJ moves to the couch, a hand placed on your shoulder as he crouches down beside it. You're quiet, but you don't tell him to back off. You don't think you've got it in you to tell him to leave because every bone in your body wants him near.

"Please, don't give up princess. Don't give up on us." He pauses and presses a kiss to the part of your arm that isn't covered by the blanket. "Don't give up on yourself."

Somehow, that changes everything. Those words, that gentle touch from JJ enough to get you crying, but trying again, to fight whatever cursed thing coursed through your veins. You didn't want to, you'd wanted to let the leukemia take you far away from it all, but you thought maybe you could give it one more shot, and if it kills you, you've written your letters, you've said goodbye, and you've sure as hell tried.

You go to more treatments, pushing through them with JJ by your side. It's hard, and you feel worse with the effects of the chemo, but with each day you see a difference in JJ. He's hopeful, and while you don't feel the same, you feel better that you can give that to him—that hope. But at the same time, that hope is what kills him when you go. It rips him up inside when the day leans over him, the day that you finally quit, your body giving in to its fate.

He gets the call early in the morning, a call from your cell that rings loud in the quiet night. He picked it up faster than he'd done anything ever before, and regrets it when he does. On the other end of the line is your father, and with pain in his voice, he breaks the news. It tears JJ up inside, every part of it breaking him into pieces that no one will be able to find for years to come. He cries, and he punches a hole through his bedroom wall, but none of that will bring you back. And after a day or two, he finds the strength to pick up your letter and read it. The words grace the page in rushed and messy handwriting, every sentence engraving itself into JJ's mind. He reads it over and over and lets the last of your words sink in. Words that say you love him, that you want him to find happiness, and that tell him not to dwell on the past. He takes them all to heart, keeping them close, and though it will be hard, he'll keep going. He'll keep fighting because you couldn't anymore, and he'll love you with every piece of himself until he can see you again, whether that be in another life or in his dreams. JJ has a lot of regrets in his life, but none of them have been, and ever will be, you.

the alternate happy ending you requested here!!

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-itsamberamber @s00buwu

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST: @scenesofobx

174 notes · View notes

happenstnces · 1 year

Text

⠀ MIDNIGHT LOVE ✧ E. PRENTISS

✧ based off of this prompt. emily prentiss x fem!reader ! gr. angst

syn. being colleagues-with-benefits isn’t working anymore, and it hasn’t been for quite some time. warning ! intentional lowercase, swearing, suggested smut, & angst. wc. 1.9k

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist ! add yourself to the taglist here

truthfully, you don’t know why you keep coming back.

you're sick of the clandestine meetings, the stolen glances, the illicit affair you've found yourself wrapped up in, teetering on the edge of casual hookups and unspoken romance like a tightrope. the chronic feeling of being a consolation prize isn't worth it. it isn’t worth this, and it hasn’t been for a while, and maybe it never was.

yet here you stand, toeing the threshold of emily's apartment with your fingers buried deep in the pockets of your coat. each time you tell yourself i’m done, i can't do this anymore, you find yourself here, in this spot, staring at the welcome mat that feels a little less welcoming the more you see it.

you're like a dog with a bone, and no matter how far emily tosses it in the opposite direction, you retreat to her bed as if you belong there—and sometimes, you swear you do, that twisted beneath her sheets in the early hours of the morning is where you're supposed to be; where you're made to be.

but reality is always standing at your bedside when you wake, and no matter how deep you burrow beneath the covers, you can’t ignore its looming presence. you can’t keep pretending this is something it isn’t.

the door swings open before you finish knocking, brown eyes pouring over you like a bucket of cold water, sending a chill down your spine. "you're punctual. right on time," emily jokes, holding the door so you can shuffle inside. you do just that, stepping into the familiarity of her home like it’s littered with landmines, like one wrong step will cause an explosion. "you know me," you hum, turning to face her hovering in the foyer.

“did you come straight from work?" emily questions. she doesn’t know why, she knows the answer—it’s the same every time. she steps closer to you, hands stretching out to paw at your sides and pull you close to her front. "yes. nobody saw me." your body is rigid in her hold, and she backs away ever so slightly, arching a brow. "you okay?"

you nod, just once. "just tired. hotch's been up my ass all week about this case." while that's true, hotch has been sitting on your last nerve like he’s getting paid to do so, that isn't the cause of your exhaustion, and really, you don’t know why you lied. she can tell you aren’t being all that truthful.

however, you hadn’t really surpassed honesty, you are tired. you’re tired of being a her late-night indulgence, tired of feeling like silver while you hold her like gold. being kept a dirty secret has taken its toll on you, and while you were made aware of the strict rules of your arrangement before you started, you can’t seem to scrub away the grime coating your insides.

a frown smooths over emily's face, one of her hands rising to cup the side of your jaw. you lean into the touch and reach out for her, arms securing around her neck, the pads of your fingers paging through the hair at the nape. "i'm sorry. whad'ya say i help you decompress?" you know she says it to be cordial, nothing more than a formality. she isn’t sorry—not about hotch, and not about this—it’s just another routinely scheduled step in the dance you’ve come to hate.

"yeah," you breathe, frigid palms sliding down to where the slopes of her shoulders fade to the expanse of her neck. your faces are mere inches apart now, swapping shallow breaths with no words shared between you. in some sad, unspoken sense, you swear emily knows what you're thinking—perhaps the silence had told her your secrets.

she looks guilty, maybe almost as guilty as you feel, and you actively fight the urge to sweep your feelings aside to absolve her of her own. "what's wrong?" you whisper. she lets out a small sigh, then offers you a rather sorry excuse for a smile. you almost think she's going to confess as she opens her mouth, that she’ll finally let her remorse seep through your fingers and into the apartment below, yet no words come. instead, she curls her lips together and shakes her head.

"nothing."

you don't know why you're continually hopeful she‘ll talk. she never does.

"okay." you don't push it. you never do.

emily’s lips envelop your own before you can speak again, her hands scoring down the sides of your body, thumbs hooking through the loops in your jeans, pulling you close enough to feel her pulse steadily thumping through the thin fabric of her shirt. you worry she can hear your own, that the way it drums against your ribcage echoes off the red-walled living room you've found yourself in the middle of. if that’s the case, she doesn't say anything, and you’re starting to think she never will.

much like countless nights before, you trade conversation for fingertips pressed into hot skin, finding intimacy in a fistful of sheets and repressed frustrations run rampant on thighs and hips and collarbones.

now it’s three in the morning, and her window is open, and you’ve found yourself searching for warmth in someone who isn’t willing to provide any. you’re sat on opposite sides of her bed as you wordlessly slip into your clothing, and you realize that getting dressed, here, now, feels much more like putting on a costume than the clothes you had come in with.

neither of you dare disturb the silence—you dress in the quiet you’ve become mutual friends with and hope it says much more than any words you could speak—you always find this part ritualistic in a way that makes you want to believe in god again.

you still; you listen.

like always, you hope she says something.

like always, she doesn’t.

you stand up with your belongings cradled to your chest like a child, and your friend, the quiet, walks you to the door.

“hey,”

your head slants over your shoulder, then the rest of your body follows, looking at her lingering in the doorway of her bedroom. you pause; you pray. you silently beg her to tell her what you want to hear. she mindlessly fiddles with the knot in her robe, and you watch the silky ribbons slide through her fingers like water. “same time tomorrow?”

this is the part you hate the most—the part where the quiet is replaced with the tension, with the longing. the air that weighs on your shoulders is thick and heavy like an oil spill. your lips curl into a thin line, and tonight, you stop this godforsaken dance. you don’t say yes with a forced smile and pretend it isn’t excruciating. she cocks her head as she watches you, still and listening.

“no.”

“what?”

she steps forward, brows hugging her eyelids, hands raised and ready to wrap around you. you shrug away from them before she can touch you, the fog of confusion surrounding her only thickening. “what’s wrong?” you can’t help but laugh. it’s watered down from the tears burning your eyelids. “seriously?”

she cocks her head. “did i do something?”

and there it is; the wrong step, the explosion.

“i can’t keep doing this, emily. i’m done.”

her hands fall, and her pointed features are quick to follow. “why? was i too rough, or something? you kn—“

“jesus, no! i can’t keep being a quick fuck for you. i’m done.”

her gaze softens, if only for a moment. “you knew that’s all this was when we started.” she reminds you in that tone that makes you want to scream, low and condescending like she’s talking to a child. “well, i can’t do it anymore. this isn’t worth it.”

she scoffs, “what does that mean?”

“this!” you wave your hands around you, fingers cutting through the air that’s filled with the tension and the longing as if it’s physically sat in front of you. “this is not worth it. it’s never been worth it.”

“you’re the one who keeps coming back. if this isn’t worth it, why are you here?”

“don’t make me say it.” you threaten through clenched teeth. she knows why you’re here—the silence had told her. “no, tell me. if this was never what you wanted, why are you here?” she takes a step towards you, challengingly, almost, as if getting closer will change what you both already know, as if it will change the i love you and i keep hoping you’ll realize you love me, too bubbling in the base of your throat.

you furiously wipe the tear that flits down your cheek, hoping she didn’t see it. you grit your teeth. “fuck you.”

“fuck me?”

“fuck you. for all of this.” you know the back and forth is pointless and immature, and you know blaming her for everything is unfair—this isn’t entirely her fault. after all, it takes two to tango. “i didn’t force you to come here. i didn’t force you to do this, y/n. i was very clear on what this was when we met, so if you thought this could ever be anything more than that—“ she pauses, as if she’s trying to take back the words that had tumbled out in a throw of hurt and confusion.

she angrily swipes her tongue across her bottom lip. “it’s not my fault you fell in love with me.”

you’re silent for a moment, perhaps a moment too long, and she worries that she had crossed the invisible line, that she had somehow found more landmines waiting to be set off. “but it is, though, isn’t it? i wasted so much time just trying to get you to see me.”

“i see you.”

“you look at me, but you don’t see me—not like that.”

there’s the quiet again, stepping back into the room like a frightened little kid, hesitant and weary. you share mirroring glances until she lets out a long breath, dragging a hand down her face as if she’s trying to manually tame the emotions simmering beneath the surface. “i’m sorry.” another cordial formality.

“no, you’re not. and that’s fine, but don’t lie to me.”

her silence is as good an answer as any, and you watch as her irritation fizzles to guilt. you awkwardly shift on your feet. you don’t know what to say now that the landmine has gone off. you don’t know how to fix what the explosion dismantled, so you choose not to. she is not yours and you are not hers and this is not your mess to clean.

she watches as you open the front door and slip into the hallway, staring at that welcome mat that had really been nothing but a prolonged goodbye as you pass. “wait,” she calls once you’ve made it a few paces down the hallway—she followed the ghost of your footsteps and now stands before the welcome-goodbye mat—holding your eye with her own, pupils blown and bloodshot. “for what it’s worth, i really am sorry.”

this is the first apology of hers you don’t have trouble pouring faith into. you search her face for a trace of malice, a trace of formalism, a trace of anything. the only thing you find are eyes desperate to be believed.

you remain stoic. “thank you.” you aren’t even sure why you thank her, perhaps it’s for confirming what you already knew or perhaps it’s for letting you walk away with at least one apology you can count on, but it doesn’t matter. you share a lingering glance before you turn on your heels and disappear into the elevator much like all those nights before; the final curtain call.

an. u can tell i wrote this sleep deprived bc i took a couple metaphors and beat them into the ground 😀 i’m not a huge fan of this but !!!! it’s something

tglist. ( open ! you can request to be added or removed here ) @mylilenbyheart @storiesofsvu @mickey-gomez @daffodil-heart

#marla writes #marla's drabbles #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagines #emily prentiss drabbles #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds drabbles #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau imagines #bau drabbles #mw: midnight love

136 notes · View notes

softquietsteadylove · 5 months

Note

We need more fake wedding/engagement AU pls ♥️

"Hey."

"Hey," Gil looked up, surprised by the soft voice and the silent steps padding into the kitchen. He pulled up his piping bag from making little rosettes of whipped potatoes. "What are you doing up?"

It had been yet another long day, and even longer than most. Ajak had required Gil to make a slew of appetizers for the engagement party she was insisting on hosting for them. He had agreed, of course, because it made sense.

Thena had expressed her worry over him slaving away in the kitchen for a party supposedly in his honour; couldn't they just get it catered? He said it was sweet, but he was happy to cook for it, and he would have plenty of time to prepare everything, so it wasn't like he would be too stressed about it.

It was only a partial lie, and it only satisfied Thena partially anyway.

She then spent all day helping Ajak plan the layout for the party in the expansive 'back yard' of the property, including their little section of beach. Ajak had the best eye for decoration, but Thena was a master planner. She had every square inch optimised and every minute accounted for while Sersi and Makkari focused on the guest list and aesthetic for the party.

They had both reconvened at the dinner table, swaying from the fatigue of the day. Thena had even excused herself earlier than normal to get some sleep.

"Are you still preparing for the party?" Thena asked, ignoring his question about why she was up. She walked closer, pulling her cardigan around herself. She wore a cardigan because it was cold but preferred the silence she could achieve with bare feet?

"I'm almost done," he smiled, piping his last few dollops of Duchess potatoes. "These just need to set, and then tomorrow I'll bake them with a butter bath and a little cheese so they can be served hot."

Thena drifted around the side of the table to him, similar to how she had hovered the day of the sandwich making--a day which neither of them had mentioned, but did it ever stick out in his mind.

He could never forget the feeling of her lips at the corner of his. Although he could also never forget the look on his mom's face when they both realised she was still in the room to witness their little moment. He had been embarrassed, sure, but Thena had all but run out of the room, barely looking at either of them for the rest of the night. She looked cute all flustered, though.

Thena watched him as he worked. "You're working awfully tirelessly for a party that should be for you."

He smiled at her, squeezing out the last bit of potato. "For us!--and besides, I don't mind."

"You keep saying that."

He couldn't help but be a little surprised. He hadn't expected her to voice a kind of defensiveness in his name. He shrugged, "I dunno, I'm used to it."

She tilted her head at him (cutely).

"I've always done stuff like this," he supplied easily as he finally set down his piping bag and looked at the three trays of apps he had finished. "Don't get me wrong, mom's a great cook, but stuff like this...I did do catering before I started at the company."

Thena also eyed his bounty, including all the dishes left from it. "Most caterers have entire teams to assist them, too."

He shrugged again, somewhat more sheepishly. "I guess, but honestly, hiring a caterer is more trouble than it's worth. At least I know what we all like, what we don't, that kind of thing. I know Sersi is allergic to buckwheat, I know Kari doesn't really like meat even if she's not totally vegetarian. I know Druig is picky with textures and I know you hate seafood."

Thena rolled her eyes at him.

He chuckled, though, picking up his tray and getting ready to load up the fridge even more. He smiled as Thena pulled the door open for him. "It's something I can do to take care of my family, y'know? Mom has done so much for us our whole lives."

And his father had done absolutely jack-shit for them.

"I wanna do whatever I can to help out," he concluded as she helped him load the last tray. The rest of the fridge was already stuffed with cheese appetizers, puff pastries to be baked, fruits that needed carving, and plenty else.

He turned and stretched with a groan. He was far from done, "I'll be up soon, don't worry. I just gotta finish these-"

"Leave them." He looked down at Thena, but she stared right back at him, arms crossed around her. "Leave the dishes for tomorrow."

He looked around the kitchen; it was pretty disastrous, and he didn't want to imagine what it would be like if his mother's kitchen weren't so massive. "The sink's totally full, not to mention the dishwasher. I can't-"

"It's not as if anyone will be using the kitchen for themselves tomorrow anyway," she shook her head, even pulling him by the hand. "They can wait until tomorrow, Gil."

"But-" he floundered, although he wasn't trying all that hard to escape the grasp of her very cold, very delicate hand. He looked down at the hand, and then at her bare feet again. "Thena, you're freezing--seriously, why aren't you in bed?"

She didn't answer him, still pulling him with her to their shared guest room.

"Were you cold?" he asked, and he had a feeling he was getting warmer (no pun intended). He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, "is it too big? I told mom we didn't need a king sized bed."

"Just come to bed, Gilgamesh."

He grinned; she couldn't sleep without him.

He could admit just to himself that he had also gotten used to sleeping with her. After the general horror of sleeping with his best friend in a partial state of undress wore off, he had to admit, it was comfy. They fit together well, he gave off enough warmth for the both of them, and Thena would naturally wake him up by running her fingers through his hair.

Neither of them had mentioned that either, but he had a feeling she liked cuddling too.

"Fine," he conceded, yawning as he trudged up the stairs. "But I'm being a bad chef by leaving all that sitting there."

"I'm sure the code of conduct will forgive you," she drawled, finally bringing him into the room. She hadn't even closed the door behind her. She really did get up just to bring him to bed with her.

Gil sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He was more tired than he thought he was.

"Get changed and lie down, Gil. Don't worry about the dishes."

Well, if she was going to tempt him with that lovely voice she had. He grumbled, hauling himself up and to the bathroom adjoining their room. Now that he was in the comfort of the familiar space, he felt how exhausted he was. Maybe she was right, he should ask for more help with stuff like this.

The dishes did get done, though. By the time he came downstairs the next morning to ask why she had gotten up so early, Thena had done every single one of them.

#Thenamesh Proposal AU #I am a sucker for the 'did the thing while you were resting' trope #I love it #I L O V E it #obviously becuase I've used it so much #but listen #Thena already is like why does Gil have to cook everything for OUR engagement party?#but he's like it's fine mom whatever you want okay? you just take it easy #because he's a sweet boy #and of course Ajak makes everyone help but half the time Gil is like #no get out of my kitchen I don't like how you're doing it #so Thena goes to bed early because she's tired #and she gets changed and lies down maybe reads #and she waits #and waits and waits and waits #eventually she's like ummm where is my fake-fiance?#she goes downstairs and Gil is still cooking???#not on her watch #and it's not because she's cold and wants to cuddle up to him #of course not!#she just...thinks he needs his rest #she does get up early #slithers out of Gil's arms #washes all the dishes which takes like an hour #Kingo comes in like are you making breakfast?#Thena says no make your own and straight up leaves to actually get dressed and ready for the day #and of course #she and Gil STILL don't talk about it #it's called pining

16 notes · View notes

yuesya · 7 months

Note

I've been on the edge of my seat these last chapters thinking "Is Suguru gonna be the surprise guest?" "He's probably suspicious of Araya by this point" "He's protective of Shiki" and obviously I was wrong (I am aware the possibilities of Suguru getting redeemed or at least stopping his dumbass plans and going back to Satoru are slim! I'm just a sucker for their love story) but in the end we did get crumbs of him! And also in the funniest "if you want to stall Gojo Satoru you just need to put Getou Suguru in front of him" way imaginable, so I am entertaining myself with an AU where antagonists use the "put Getou Suguru under his nose like a cat toy" strategy to distract Satoru so much that they actually reconcile. Accidental Matchmaking AU LOL.

Also! We finally know a little bit more about Shiki's cursed technique!! HYPE HYPE HYPE. I was hoping for her Domain Expansion, but I get that that's gonna be further in the future, at some Dramatic point. Still, now we know more! *takes out the red string and conspiracy board*

Also, now that she can use Nothingness to make sure people don't get worse, and considering she'll probably get better at identifying the lines of abstract concepts, that means Yuzuki and Tsumiki have a good chance of being saved, right? Right? Right? ;_;

Glad you've been enjoying the recent chapters! A few crumbs of Suguru haha, I don't think anyone really expected the surprise guest unless they were squinting really hard lol. Cat toy Suguru for Satoru, though!

Cursed technique reveal for Shiki! We'll be seeing more on that soon. Considering that Domain Expansion is usually considered the 'pinnacle' of sorcery mastery, it's going to be a while before Shiki gets to it haha. But we'll get to it eventually! I'm definitely looking forward to when I'll be able to write about it. (Rubs hands gleefully)

Yuzuki and Tsumiki! They're fun characters to play with, and that's all I'll be saying for now. :D

#QA #zenith of stars

41 notes · View notes

yurinaa-world · 1 year

Note

Yello, I'm s big fan of your writings and I wanted to ask if u could do an angst,sacrifice,saving but death for a request

WARNING SPOILER HEAD ABOUT EP.10 ABOUT TRIGUN STAMPEDE

Ok so u know where Roboerto dies because that girl(I don't remember her name srry) stabbed him with the nail?

Well what if the reader sacrificed themselves for him? And the team witnessed it? Like Wolfwood,Vash,Meryl and Roberto where all there

Note:the reader is Meryl best friend and Wolfwood s/o and Vash sister/brother

So they try to heal them,crying u know yada yada but...alas the reader dies in Vash arms and Meryl holds their hand then crying on them?

U can add as much angst,blood,sadness u want the more the merrier

U can decline if u find this angsty

Thanks in advance

Characters: Vash x Gentral-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader sacrificed themselves for Roberto

Warnings: Ansty, death, mentions of blood.

Notes: Sorry if this isn't really good I haven't been feeling that well lately

What you were seeing was an unimaginable expanse of full flower rows and rows—the thing only you and Meryl have seen in books; you never thought to see them in person. "There's no way this place is incredible; do you see that (name)?" Meryl squealed at the both of you as you were jogging toward them, with Luida and Roberto walking behind you both.

"I never thought I'd ever see flowers in person!" you squealed. "I know they're even prettier than the pictures in those books!" Meryl bubbled as you both got down on your knees to examine the flowers more closely, Roberto groaning behind you.

You ignored him and looked at a specific one when all of a sudden you found yourself looking at it and saying, "Meryl, look at this one!"You pointed at the flower and said, "They all look the same, nothing special." Roberto complained.

"These aren’t like humans or animals; all they need is water and sunlight," Luida smiled. "Really?" you asked, and Luida just smiled at you, getting up from the ground and walking away from her to see more of the flowers with Meryl by your side.

Meryl sighed while you both looked around. "Meryl, remember when we always wanted to see flowers like in the books? And now we are. You smiled at her, "I know it’s been so since then." Meryl nodded, smiling back at you.

Something felt wrong, and you didn’t know why. You looked down at your feet, your vision going fuzzy. Your head was going foggy; your blinking was getting slower and slower, as if you were about to fall asleep where you were standing.

"Meryl..." you slurred, feeling your eyes close and darkness envelop you, falling unconscious, your body giving out on you.

------

Your body was just playing out the last moments of your life; this wasn’t the way you wanted to die, but death catches up to everyone, doesn’t it? Sacrifices are meant to be made.

The sight of children in liquid bodies with wires attached to them and one, who appeared to be a girl, asking, "What's wrong with you!?" You shivered at the sight, but the madman gave no reply. "I feel sorry for them," Meryl muttered.

"Who are you to feel sorry for?"

In a blink of an eye glass is broken by a nail before slowly breaking, grabbing meryl by her arm you drag her back with Roberto beside you, water dripping all over the, the girl standing in front of the glass.

"That's why I hate humans. You only judge on whatever you see."

"Elendira, stop it!"

"Silence!" she yelled before creating nails strike you all with once again, stilling hold meryl arm the nails hitting when you all begin running pulling meryl forward so she would in front of you.

Seeing Roberto pull out a gun shot at the nails that were being thrown "what did i tell you" Roberto complained even in this situation "Im sorry" meryl yelled as if she was about to cry "Just shut up we don't have time for lecture dammit! we are all gonna die." you yelled at him.

------

"That doctor is insane, and this is all a ruse to bring Vash here." Roberto said when you made room you ran to room, everything red "if that wasn't obvious." Meryl murmured as she ran to the elevator, repeatedly pressing two buttons."We have to let you know please hurry!" Meryl begged while Roberto reloaded his gun.

"Calm down, Meryl, you're freaking out and will do nothing."you said while trying to calm her down and rubbing Meryl's arms soothingly as she continued pressing the buttons in panic, tears forming on her eyes.

"found you" you freeze upon hearing that voice, how did she find you so quickly she wasn't even running after you turning around, to see that monster once again nails appearing around her.

putting you and meryl behind him, Roberto pointing his gun at her, she looked at him in shock "Oh no, you kill a sad pitiful girl like me how cruel are you?" she cried out "how cruel what did i do wrong, i'm not a monster" she kept on going, looking at her was disgusting all this just an act nothing she said was real Roberto hestied to shoot.

"see always judging by looks and nothing else"

"You're insane," you yelled, "did you just call me insane? You're so mean, I'm going to cry now." she smiled.

"just a bit more time we just make it until the elevator comes we run on the count of three" Roberto whispers to you both

"one, two, three!"

you all run you being behind Roberto and meryl the nails almost hitting you.

your body moved before thought, shoving meryl forward, the nails hit your stomach and leg, you stumbled and fell to the floor, feeling such pain, so much pain, you felt like dying the blood poured out of your stomach and leg you couldn't breath you couldn't breathe.

"(Name)!" Meryl yelled. Everything just drowns out you can hear her screaming your name but you couldn't answer, you couldn't respond, you just couldn't think anymore.

------

"(Name)" only being able to slightly open your eyelids, seeing Vash's face he was holding you "(name) don't close your eyes please" vash begged then hearing meryl cry out while she held your hand tight feeling Vash hot wet tears fall onto your chest. You could barely open your mouth to speak but you manage

to gasp out, meryl sobbing into your neck

"(Name) please don't leave me." Meryl pleaded.

"No!" vash whispered to himself.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went dark, leaving you alone with your heartbeat fading.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

22 notes · View notes

libertyreads · 3 months

Text

Book Review #8 of 2024--

The Exiled Fleet by J.S. Dewes. Rating: 3.25 stars.

Read from February 4th to 6th.

Man, can books stop getting printed with such absolutely TINY font? I ended up checking the ebook out from my local library to read this one because I was getting a headache from reading the small print. I know publishers want to save money by using fewer pages per book or whatever, but I'm getting older and my eyes cannot take the abuse. It doesn't help that I read two different books back to back that had such small font. Complaint over.

As some might know, I've been missing The Expanse a lot over the past several months. So, when a booktuber recommended this series I jumped on it so fast. I've been craving some Sci-Fi in my life. And I did enjoy book number one in this series. I read it last month and rated it 3.75 stars. This one doesn't live up to that first one for a couple of reasons. 1) It uses a lot of the same tricks or conveniences from the first book to make everything work out for our main characters. 2) When we weren't running into the same tricks over and over, we were running up against problem after problem for what felt like no reason. There's a specific moment in the book that I'm thinking of where they have to travel pretty far in order to get something to help with their task...but then they don't get it...and technically don't need it? Which felt weird. I know this was probably only there to move a certain aspect of the plot forward but it felt so clunky.

And maybe I need to put some of the blame on myself for not giving this book a fair enough shot. It isn't fair for me to want the first series from an author to live up to my love for The Expanse series. I heard someone say a while back that we need to meet books where they are in order to give them a fair chance and I think that's what I really should have done with this series as a whole.

Don't get me wrong though, there are aspects of this world that I love. Adequin Rake and Cavalon Mercer are such a wonderful set of characters. These are the two point of view characters we get throughout the novel and they're so absolutely different but there's something about their personalities that really make them play off each other really well. The side characters are also really great and deserving of so much love. There's also such a great moment in this one where Adequin, who has been away from any real society outside of the crews of the ships out at The Divide for over 5 years at this point, ends up on a station with a lot of civilians wondering around and we see her having to reign in her feelings about being around other humans she's not in charge of. And we get a moment like this again when she ends up planetside for the first time in that long and she has a weird sort of culture shock. Those moments really made me feel something about her and her life since arriving at The Divide. It was so good.

I do plan on reading the next book when it comes out at the end of the year. Maybe a little time away from these characters, this plot, these settings will make the heart grow fonder. And hopefully I can meet that book where it is when it does come out.

4 notes · View notes

payeehay · 1 year

Text

In short, going into the unfinished portal had been a bad idea.

Danny thinks he's dead, now? He can't be sure, but he has no other way to explain the way that when his friends had brought him over to the mirror after he stumbled out of the glowing green expanse, there was nothing but a cottonball of white hair and a literal skull grinning grotesquely back at him.

Putting a shaky hand to his face, he'd realized that there was flesh there, it was just... invisible.

And so, one mental breakdown, an outfit change, a hairdye job, and an hour in front of sam's makeup mirror later, he was looking normal enough to go to school the next day.

Before they had left her house, she had warned him that only some of his makeup was waterproof, told him not to sweat too much, or to get it wet.

Which made his current situation a problem.

Dash steered him roughly out of the locker room toward the bathroom stalls, Kwan and Tony blocking his hopes of escape.

Fuck. He couldn't let them get his face wet.

"Hey! Why don't you hit me? You like hitting me, right?" he tried.

Dash grinned. "Good idea!" He stopped long enough to sock Danny in the stomach, before shoving him into the stall.

He struggled, but wasn't able to stop Dash from shoving his face right in the toilet.

30 seconds later, he was coughing and rubbing at his eyes while the jocks laughed.

Until they stopped laughing, one by one, peering closely at Danny. "Hey Fenton, what's wrong with your face?" Kwan asked.

Double fuck. He glanced down at his gloved hands, saw the watery foundation smeared across them. "Uh," he schooled his face, or however much was left of it, "Nothing. What's wrong with your face?"

Dash squinted at him. "No, it's- are you wearing makeup?"

"No," Danny scoffed. "I'm a guy, remember?"

"He is!" Tony exclaimed, pulling him out of the stall and into the lights.

Danny caught himself in one of the mirrors and froze. His skin looked translucent, blotches of white and black showing through.

He tried to run, was caught by the arms by Kwan and Tony, and put up a token struggle, already knowing they had him held fast.

He struggled in earnest when he saw Dash coming at him with a wet paper towel.

"No! You don't want to-"

Dash ran it down his cheek, and Danny froze as dash's brows scrunched together. "What the fuck?" he asked curiously.

Another couple of strokes, and Danny could see bone, teeth, dark hollows in the mirror. Dash looked legitimately unnerved. "What the fuck, Fenton??" he asked again. "Where's your skin??"

Danny thought quickly. "Flesh-eating virus. It's contagious, by the way."

The three football players glanced at each other. "No..." Dash disagreed. "Something weird's going on here." He experimentally poked Danny's face, right where he'd wiped it clean, and both boys cringed. "I'll ask one more time, Fenton," he said, trying to sound intimidating. "What the fuck?"

Danny stared him down, studying him. Finally, he sighed. There was no good answer to this. "I don't know, okay? Something weird happened last night and I'm trying to hide it until I can at least figure out what the hell it was, so can I please go get my makeup and fix... this??" he asked, gesturing at his face. He gave another pull on his arms, and Kwan let go, soon followed by Tony.

Danny almost turned and ran right then, but Kwan asked, voice barely above a whisper, "Are you dead??"

Danny groaned. "I don't know! Can I please go now?"

The jocks glanced at each other again, and Dash looked almost scared. "You're a freak, Fenturd." He pushed past Danny and out toward the lockers, turned, pointed back at him. "Keep your freak shit away from me." Kwan and Tony nodded and followed him, leaving Danny gratefully alone.

When his classmates teased him the next day for wearing makeup, he could only thank whatever gods may be out there that that was all they were saying about him.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dash baxter #kwan #my writing #my dumb posts #if i had a nickel for every time I've written about danny wearing makeup I'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

22 notes · View notes

a-student-out-of-time · 1 year

Note

least delusional mod moment

okay but is your arei isn't actually dead theory implying that arei is the culprit??

or like. explain please

//No, no, I'm not implying that. We've that happen a few times, with the blackened convincing the cast the victim is actually still alive, like what happened twice in SDRA2, but what I'm suggesting is completely different

//Think about how J and Arei's arcs have played out during this motive. J had her entire identity revealed, much to her chagrin, and Arturo has been hounding her ever since. He doesn't respect her or her word, he's basically simping for her mom and J by extension only because of her old name.

//It gets to the point that, in order to get even a little bit of peace from this nonsense, she drags Teruko into the changing rooms and nearly gets knifed for her troubles. All just because she didn't want to deal with Arturo for a little bit, but nobody's helped her out

//Arei, meanwhile, has gone through a whole-ass character arc in only a few episodes. She started off as the bully girl who claimed she had nothing to hide, then had a massive breakdown over how much she wished kind people existed but doesn't believe they can in a cruel world. And then, thanks to David's influence, she decided she was gonna try and be a kinder person

//And after those last two moments, we haven't really seen much of them. We got one brief glimpse of Arei the day before the BDA, and we saw J briefly speaking just before then.

//Like, ordinarily this would seem straightforward, but it was this bit from Teruko's discussion with Veronika, where they talk about Teruko's apparent prosopagnosia, that really caught my attention:

//That entire discussion wasn't there just for the sake of it. This is something they deliberately wanted to draw attention to, and just before the motive reveal. Especially since Teruko doesn't answer.

//Not only does Teruko having prosopagnosia potentially complicate matters with her already trying to avoid interacting with people, but I feel this particular question is foreshadowing the big reveal

//And why do I think it's going to be like this? Because this chapter has essentially been one huge expansion on Arei and J's FTE

//In their FTE, the two of them discussed a bit about their home lives, with J ranting about how much she despises her mom and how Arei wishes she got to be the center of her own mother's attention. I was already curious about both those sentiments, and this chapter went on to elaborate on them wonderfully.

//Moreover, Arei, in her own chaos gremlin kind of way, genuinely cares about J and wants to hang out with her, even feeling that J likes her back because she didn't just walk away.

//Put all this together and this is why I feel that the two of them pulled a switch: Arei offered J a chance to finally be free of Arturo's simpage, and that's why we didn't see or her much from her afterward, other than that brief appearance in episode 7 before her apparent death.

//And I must ask, if Arei's goal was to be nicer to everyone after her scene with David, why wouldn't she be participating in the discussion about Ace and Nico? Sure, maybe she doesn't feel like she's up to it just yet

//...Or maybe that was actually J disguised as Arei, trying to keep a low profile. And thus the J we saw at the end of Episode 7 was actually Arei. No matter who it is under that hood, they were the first to go look for her.

//While I like to think the two of them do have a weird sort of friendship, and Arei certainly seems to like her, part of me doesn't really believe J would be the first to go look for her or be as concerned as she is. Not unless they had a major off-screen friendship moment, or just what I've suggested here

//And once again, the fact that the BDA cut off right when they found the body leads me to believe things aren't as straightforward as they seem.

//Like I've said, I could be wrong, but the crumbs in this episode feel like this is what they're leading toward. Not necessarily a happy conclusion, but one I'm very interested in seeing now

#mod talks #a student out of time #arei nageishi #j moreno #danganronpa despair time

18 notes · View notes

rocicrew · 1 year

Text

I keep going back to Leviathan Falls and trying to figure out what it is that leaves me unsatisfied to a degree. Because at the end of the day, while I may have wanted something different for certain characters, I can make it make sense narratively. It's not a happy ending by any means, but it doesn't come out of nowhere for the characters.

It is important how the two abuse survivors are the last characters standing. It is certainly something how Naomi almost loses everything again, Holden, her home, Alex, etc. and while it hurts and grief will follow her, she doesn't regret it. It's a stark contrast to losing Filip and her home pre series. While both are losses that shake her and will haunt her, she comes out of not regretting opening herself to people and to love she avoided before, even if that meant opening herself up for this pain later on. She wouldn't change anything, and for the first time, instead of closing in on herself right after, she lets Amos near.

Alex's vice had always been family. He created and left three families. It's the same circle that keeps repeating. Talissa and Melas to fly and ultimately for the Roci. The Roci to make a new family, Giselle and Kit, and then failing them anyway to come back to the Roci. And ultimately, leaving the Roci again for Kit and Rohi and Bahari. To try and be the father and the grandfather he never was.

Amos might not have always done good. He certainly wasn't moral, but he was good deep down. He wanted to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, not always in the right way. He cared enough to follow people who were good, even if he didn't believe himself as one. He recognized he'd done bad in his life because those things hadn't been taught to him. But he didn't wanna do bad, or at least do bad for the wrong reason. At the end of the day, he cared to try to do right by others even if he couldn't always tell what that was and learned to lean on the people that loved him and he trusted to point him in the right direction. He's been given that role for well, forever, without knowing what to do with it, but he's certainly going to try with everything those he loved, too, taught him. Ultimately, for a man who outsourced all his decisions, he's now been turned on a role of guidance for having lived through so much history. It's, it's a Lot.

Holden, I disagree with. Not even necessarily that it comes down to his death or him sacrificing himself. It is a Holden thing to do. To act when no one else can or would act. But the circumstances it comes down to... He's always thrown himself into dangerous situations, but it's the first time it feels like he actually wants to die. It's without the hope that always drived his character. It's him having panic attack after panic attack until he dies. It's giving up, in a way that helps the system sure, but it doesn't stop it from him giving up. And it's so unlike him. Idk, I disagree with them breaking him so much that the only way he can see out of it is by giving into what born the majority of his trauma in his adult life. It makes sense for Holden to sacrifice himself. But not like this.

Anyway, I went off track with this. But what I wanted to conclude is that what drew me in the Expanse was a great deal, the characters sure, but also the world building and the prevalent politics in it. They weren't always dealt in the best way they could, but it still had something to say. What I'm going to is that I think they gave up on the politics in the end. It feels almost like they went too big with what they wanted to do and didn't know how to wrap it up.

It does follow things set up from the previous books. They begin something with Laconia, which is more of a commentary or at least is half build on how the Transport Union wasn't a true solution either. They kept playing by the same rules, although instead of the Inner planets and the Belt, it's the Sol system being prioritized over the colonies. What was said about Earth, as the birthplace of humanity, now can be applied to the entire system. It's the same thing over and over. Laconia gains some support from some colonies for promising to support them. The other motivator is fear. It's vaguely similar to the Free Navy, although Laconia is certainly no oppressed system. I feel like there were battles and back and form with Laconia’s government that focused more on authoritative and totalitarian regimes than the larger problem at play of why Laconia succeeded besides the technological advancements. Why it was allowed to thrive for so many years with no one checking etc.

The more I think of it, I expected some grander solution on that aspect. On the way, the universe can move forward, can build a new way, and a new system for all of this to work. A lot of time was spent on things that didn't matter as much ie. Tanaka, Kit without truly addressing the politics of it all beyond Laconia needs to be defeated. What about after, what about the next Laconia 30,40,50 years from now bc this isn't working. Instead, what we were given was this could've worked if only humans were better, and not only that, but they erased the scale, the expanse, that caused the problems as a solution. No more Sol system and colonies. The Rings are gone, everyone stay in your own bubbles. Humanity can't handle that scale. But that doesn't erase the problem either.

The same thing will happen on a planet, on a system, on a galaxy again as long as the same power system remains. The closing of the ring gates works on an alien level, but it fails on the geopolitical aspect. Humans suck sorry, they'll just repeat the same mistakes and exploit each other so we'll make the tribes smaller. It feels like we're back at the stars are better off without us and that feels lazy.

It's cynical in a story that wasn't overly cynical. And I think that was in the back of my mind bothering me about the ending without having the words for it until now.

#sol txt.#leviathan falls spoilers #obviously #this is more of a ramble bc thought have Not Left me

9 notes · View notes

diamondwaters · 2 years

Text

❝ love is a choice ❞ prologue

summary: what was meant to be a simple, calm trip to an intergalactic museum ended up becoming a a trip through memories the doctor rather wanted to forget. only they weren't her memories. they were yours.

pairing: thirteenth doctor x reader (primary), eleventh doctor x reader

word count: 754

warnings: a whole lot of angst

author's note: i'm struggling in life but writing this is both tearing me apart and giving me life. i originally posted this on my ao3 but i also wanted to share it here!! im going through some revisions with the pronouns of the reader so please bare with me skjnfn

“GAMMA PICTORIS!" THE DOCTOR EXCLAIMED with her usual flourish, the one that had just begged her companions to get excited and ask questions. When they didn’t do the latter, she continued on, “‘Part of the Pictor constellation, got really cool beaches! But don’t swim in the water. Makes for some nasty burns if you stay in too long.”

As she inserted Gamma Pictoris’ coordinates, the three humans around her asked their questions, to which she answered brightly. As they did, she was reminded how much she loved this routine. Taking people to the corners of the universe, seeing their smiling faces and telling them bits and pieces of the knowledge she’d acquired in her long lifetime. All the while, the familiar whirring of the TARDIS engines filled the space that wasn’t occupied by words. It was… calm. Nice.

“Ah! Here we are!” The Doctor announced.

A single peek outside the doors of the TARDIS had the Doctor realizing that this was not, in fact, Gamma Pictoris. Rather than expanses of sand and the view of three moons from the mountains, the blue police box was nestled in a grove of trees that stood tall in front of a lake. The singular golden sun, which was beginning to burn a bright orange in its last minutes on the horizon, was lowering in the western sky. The smell in the air, that of water and nature and pure oxygen, was decidedly that of Earth.

Any well-versed traveler of the spacetime continuum would be able to make this distinction on these features alone. However, the Doctor hadn’t needed any of those things to make that dissertation.

“What is this place?” Yaz questioned.

“Looks a bit like Earth,” Graham pointed out.

The Doctor didn’t have anything in her to tell Graham that he was right. All that energy she was brimming with at any given moment, was suddenly gone. As if someone had sucked it out of her and she was left a hollowed out shell of a Timelord.

“Is that someone over there?”

Another question the Doctor couldn’t find herself answering.

There was a person where Ryan had been looking, and the Doctor knew this because she was looking in the very same place. She had been from the moment she realized where they were.

They sat in a wooden beach chair that was painted a bright pink that faced the lake. Because of this, the four of them couldn’t see their face, just the top of their head, which seemed to have been tilted forward. Some might’ve thought it was because they were asleep, but the Doctor knew that a book had to be tucked in their lap. She just knew.

“Right,” The Doctor took a deep breath. The energy she had lost hadn’t come back, but she pretended that it had. “Wrong planet, obviously! Back inside, all of you! In, in, in!”

The three humans playfully rolled their eyes, none of them really aware of the shift in the Doctor’s mood. They heeded their instructions and trudged back inside to wait for the Doctor to put in the right location this time. But the Doctor did not follow. Not yet. For a moment, she simply stood and watched. She wanted so desperately to go over. To say something. Do something. Every molecule in her body was pulling her towards that beach chair. It would be so easy to just go over, give a simple greeting and-

When the arms stretched above the person’s head, a book- she knew it!- in one of their hands, the Doctor blinked and shook her head. She shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t be here. And why the TARDIS had gone and done this was beyond her, because she knew just as well as the Doctor what this place had meant. And what the person in that beach chair had meant.

The Doctor turned and put in any coordinates she could think of. She couldn’t seem to grasp the correct ones just then, but she didn’t really care. So long as she got off Earth circa 2010 right this instant, she would be fine once again.

Hours later, when the humans were sent back home after a day’s worth of great adventures, the Doctor would ask her TARDIS: “Why? Why there? Why them?”

And you, you would ask your roommate, who had come to inform you that the pizza you ordered had arrived, seconds after, “Did you hear that strange noise just now?”

Both questions would go without a proper answer.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #jodie whittaker!doctor #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #doctor who imagine #thirteenth doctor imagine #eleventh doctor imagine

92 notes · View notes

mayfieldss · 1 year

Text

Would it not kill to say goodbye? - JJ Maybank

Alternate ending to this fic - based on this request; jj x reader where the reader is kinda in the middle of a kook/pouge but is diagnosed with an aggressive leukemia? jj visits her during treatments and when she starts to loose her hair helps her shave it? maybe altnerste endings with mourning/survival?

Content warnings: mentions of chemo and its after-effects (throwing up, losing hair, etc.) Mentions of death / dying.

"When I scream, you're my echo. Will you cry if I let go?" - Gracie Abrams

Keep reading