#it looks terrible but i’m happy for him
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A Doe in Fall (part 6)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦
Part 2 - Liar smut💦
Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦
Part 4 - Enough
Part 5 - Too Much
Part 6 - Learning smut💦
Part 6 Learning
Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」
The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭
Minors DNI 🦌 🚘
You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight.
Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.
“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.
No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.
“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.
“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you.
As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.
“Not terribly, no.”
When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.
Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down.
His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”
He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.
That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return.
You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.
Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you.
“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”
His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.
“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning. An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.
“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”
A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”
You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him.
Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business.
“I missed you.” You cooed.
Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?
Oh that’s right. You’d said something.
“Hmm?”
You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.
For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell.
You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.
“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”
His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.
Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing.
Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.
“Alastor.”
His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”
“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”
Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”
Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”
A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”
You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.
It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.
Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.
A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral.
You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.
When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.
“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.
One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.
You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.
Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.
He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes.
“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.
A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.
“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”
What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.
“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.
You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.
Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.
You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.
He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.
“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.
“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.
Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.
A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.
Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.
How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him.
A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”
You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”
A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.”
You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”
Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.
Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat. He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.
You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.
Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.
No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.
Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours.
Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn’t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.
He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.
You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm.
Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.
You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you.
How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.
A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.
“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.
You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly.
When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.
Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.
As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.
He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before. Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.
“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.
“I feel good anytime I’m near you.”
The right answer.
His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”
With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.
Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”
You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”
A nervous smile spread on his face.
“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”
“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.
“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.
“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”
“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”
He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”
Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”
“Why would it?”
You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”
It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.
When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.
And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.
But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.
He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.
“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”
You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.
You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”
Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.
You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.
When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.
Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.
“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”
“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?”
He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.
“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”
Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight.
“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”
Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry.
“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”
“Exactly.”
“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”
His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”
“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”
A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered.
Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one.
“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.
Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”
Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.
“I want to provide for all your needs.”
A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.
You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?
“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”
“I’m not joking.”
The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.
“Look at me.”
Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.
He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.
A deer in the headlights.
He wasn’t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.
“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”
“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”
Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”
You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.
“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”
He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”
“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”
He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”
“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”
Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies
, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl , (50)
#human alastor x reader#alastor x reader#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#alastor#hazbin alastor#fanfiction#alastor x you#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel
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let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.
joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.
he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?
you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂
AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you.
You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.
He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”
“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”
“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.
“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”
“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”
“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.
“Surprise it is.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.
But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway.
And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him.
You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade.
It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up.
Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too.
“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”
“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”
“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”
“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”
Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”
“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.”
“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”
“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”
“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”
“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”
“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”
“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow.
He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -
“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”
“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”
“I made these reservations three months ago-”
“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face.
“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”
“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”
You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”
“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”
“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”
“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”
“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”
“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”
“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”
“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”
“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”
“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”
“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you.
“Are you going to go with me?”
“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you.
“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”
“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”
“I love you. So much.”
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#tlou#pedro pascal
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Emergency contact
word count; 1047 – f!reader
“I don’t mean to be rude but, why are you here?” Semi asked you, one hand clutching his head and the other rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes right now.
“I could ask you the same thing. Apparently, I’m your emergency contact.”
The cogs were slowly turning in his head with the help of that single brain cell he always seemed to rely on. “Ohh... the drinking game.”
“You played a drinking game with emergency contacts? Do you know how serious that is?” you scolded him. That’s the y/n he remembered from high school. Diligent y/n, student president and his seemingly hopeless crush. Too different to hang out in high school, when everyone had their circles and stuck to them. He even dramatically told his friends you were the one that got away when there was liquor in his system, yet here you were. Back in his life as his emergency contact after he fell off stage.
When he went out for drinks with some old teammates from Shiratorizawa to catch up, they asked if he ever got your number before graduation. He proudly presented the contact like it was a treasure, which led to someone daring him to put you as his emergency contact. Crazy, right?
He ignored your concern, waving his hand in hopes you’d drop it. “Remind me what happened, please. Was it cool?”
“A light fixture fell on your thick head and then you fell off stage.”
He smiled sheepishly but held up a rock sign with his hand. “I’m a rockstar.” The small laugh under your breath made him happy, but happiness made his head hurt again so he winced instead. You carefully sat on the edge of the hospital bed.
“Why wouldn’t they call your parents?”
“I’m not in contact with them anymore.” A silence fell over you and you looked at him sympathetically, but still managed a small smile. He seemed to be getting tired again already, you couldn’t even imagine how much his head must hurt. The doctor said he was lucky it didn’t hit him harder, or with a sharp edge. No broken bones either, so he just had to stay until the concussion was under control.
“Because you’re a rockstar?” you whispered, making him smile again and nod. You hummed at his confirmation, watching as his eyes fell closed and he went back to sleep again.
He’s still so pretty, you thought. His hair was a bit messier and his face a bit more lived in but still the pretty setter you remember. Some sweet pick-up line would leave his lips every time he passed you back then, and you would frown and tell him to focus on school. You never figured out if he knew how flustered he made you. Surely, he must have known with that stupid smirk on his face.
When Semi woke up again, he wondered if you had actually been there or if it was all some weird dream. He slowly opened his eyes, nervous to see who he heard shuffling around. Someone was there, but it wasn’t you, and his face fell along with his chest as he let out the breath he held in anticipation.
“Hello, love,” the older nurse said, coming over to check his reaction time and other standard things. Semi let her, not really conversing while she checked him. Maybe she was never here…
He cleared his throat, looking up at the woman. “Was there a girl, uh sorry, a woman here earlier?”
“Right!” she said and Semi could swear he felt anticipation clutching onto his heart. “She had to make some calls so she’s in the cafeteria waiting for you. When you feel stable enough to get up, please have two painkillers with this glass of water and then you are free to leave as you wish.”
Semi smiled. He smiled so brightly like the nurse had told him she cured some terrible sickness. “Thank you,” he said, bowing as well as he could from where he lay in the hospital bed. After she left, he slowly started sitting up, clutching the edge of the bed to stabilise himself. You’re waiting for him.
Semi walked into the cafeteria after signing out and getting a prescription for painkillers from the main desk. He had his concert clothes back on, looking around for a familiar face. And he found you, rigged up with your computer and notepad with a phone resting between your shoulder and ear. You were frowning while talking to someone on the phone and Semi shouldn’t think it’s so hot, but he did.
He walked over and sat across from you, leaning his chin on the top of the screen. You made eye contact and huffed, telling whoever was on the line that you would get back to them tomorrow. “Hey there, rockstar,” you cooed, leaning on your hand with your elbow resting on the table.
“You stayed,” was all he answered.
“Someone needs to drive you home,” you sighed. You leaned forward and held out your hand, planting your pointer finger under his chin. He was high on painkillers and could swear the two of you were about to kiss despite not seeing each other for years, but then you just flicked his chin up a bit to close the computer. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”
If Semi liked you before, this new confidence you grew into had him on his knees. Not literally, but he was watching your every move as you packed up your stuff and finally stood up. Semi got up with you, quickly reaching out and grabbing the strap of your bag so he could hoist it up on his shoulder with a cheeky smile. There was still a low beat playing in his head from the earlier headache, but he did his best to ignore it. You huffed and turned around, leading him to the car while repeating everything the nurse told him to remember earlier while he just pretended to listen. Again, you wondered if he knew you were flustered.
Surely, he knew with a smirk like that. Maybe you should make sure he gets safely into his apartment and then kiss the stupid smirk off his face. That sounds like a good plan.
masterlist
/for Semi-lover @cosmiicdust <3
#haikyu x reader#haikyu#haikyuu#hq x reader#fanfiction#haikyuu x reader#hq#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#haikyuu x you#semi eita#semi x reader#semi x you
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lay your life down and pretty
various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k
In which you die (or they've already lost you).
tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies
notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3
Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.
You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!
And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.
(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.
Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.
He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)
Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone.
He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.
After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours.
The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.
Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own.
The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.
Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”
Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.
He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.
He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”
It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.
So here he is.
Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.
“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”
You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.
(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)
Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.
Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.
So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.
(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)
Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:
In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.
He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.
Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.
Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?
(She thinks it does.)
You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.
“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”
“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”
Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.
Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life.
“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?
“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”
The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.
She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.
She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees.
A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”
Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have.
Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”.
If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact.
It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.
“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”
She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.
Lovers.
The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.
The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.
Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?
(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)
“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.
The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases.
It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.
Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.
“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.
One can only hope.
taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee
#—stellaronhvnters.#dan heng x reader#hsr x reader#hanya x reader#hsr dan heng x reader#hsr hanya x reader#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#danheng x reader#dan heng hsr x reader#hanya hsr x reader#hsr dan heng#hsr hanya#honkai star rail#✧ my works
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anytime, anywhere! megumi x reader drabbles, p. short
repost from old acc! reblogs are appreciated<3
megumi fushiguro x gn!reader
cws; none really, femcoded(?) reader, swearing, kissing, sus position but nothing more, idk. three different scenarios but one universe, this can be read as a standalone or a part two to this
wc: 574 total
when yuuji finds out that you and megumi are together, he almost screams. he's raving like a madman–saying everything from i’m happy for you! to what the fuck do you mean you're dating now, so i spent like three hours worrying for nothing?
by the time he finishes, megumi has an awkward smile on his face, and you're laughing bashfully. but yuuji has to admit that side by side on the couch, the two of you do look cute together. he leaves soon after, saying something about giving the newlyweds space. maybe he also feels guilty about the fact that he accidentally told you about megumi's terribly intense crush on you.
and when you're finally alone, megumi lifts your linked hands and shyly kisses yours.
\\\
you yawn, pushing yourself upright on your desk. there's still a considerable amount of time until class ends, but you're pretty sure you're gonna pass out before it does. glancing behind your shoulder, you look for your boyfriend, megumi, only to find him staring back at you. he looks tired too, but when your eyes meet his face breaks out into a lazy grin–one that leaves you weak in the knees.
as soon as your teacher leaves the classroom, students pour out of the large classroom. you wait, and so does megumi, until the room's almost empty. it's then that he approaches you, picking up your bag with one hand as you get up. intertwining your fingers together, he kisses the side of your head gently.
“so, what's for lunch?” he asks.
before you can answer, though, he's shutting you up already. “coffee isn't lunch, baby.”
you pout, leaning into his touch. “whatever.”
\\\
you flop down on the bed beside megumi, glaring at nothing in particular. you've been ignoring him for over an hour now, but he's just not getting the hint. you cough loudly. he still stares at his phone, typing something on it. you cough again, in a way that's clearly fake. this time, he bites.
“what's wrong?”
you frown back at him, silent. megumi raises an eyebrow curiously, turning to you. within a second, he's maneuvered you into a position where he's hovering over you, and you're on your back beneath him.
“oh-” you gasp, surprised, but he cuts you off.
“everythin’ okay?” despite your position being inherently sexual, both his voice and his touch are soft. you stare at the tv playing behind you, resolute in your mission to ignore him. he tilts your head up so that you're forced to look him in the eyes.
“hmm?”
“what date is it?” you demand.
“what?” he's confused.
“what date is it?” you repeat.
“the fourth of february?”
“and?”
“and?”
“and the 14th?”
“oh!” he falls back onto the bed beside you with a wide grin on his face. “should've just told me, pretty.”
you pout. “i tried.”
“naaah,” he draws out the singular word, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers. “telling me and ignorin’ me are two different things.” [im so sorry if ur bald]
you want to move away from his touch, but there's just something that keeps you from doing so.
“so,” he smiles lazily, “you gonna be my valentine or what, baby?”
the way he says it is just so damn attractive, and you can't help but blush as you nod. and when he pulls you into his arms, you hear the the words he whispers into your hair. “was gonna ask you soon anyways, sweetheart.”
#♡ hanya writes#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#megumi x reader#megu#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi fluff#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk oneshot#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu megumi#megumi#jujutsu kaisen megu#jjk fushiguro
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Astarion x Reader
words: 1.02K
rating: T
pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Tav
summary: after seeing their friends for the first time in a long while, Tav has a request for Astarion for them to come live at the palace.
---------------------------------
The party is in full swing. Or…as full of a swing as this lot could get.
Astarion had to admit, for a dried-up old skeleton, Withers could certainly put on a show. He wondered how the old pile of bones managed out here in the middle of nowhere, looking like….that. Perhaps he’d summoned those hirelings to go fetch the party favors for him.
His attention turned from his wine to Tav as they came close. Calm, smiling, happy. He hated it. Not that he has any doubts that they are happy in their life together, and they are wonderfully content in being his consort. He just doesn’t like that other people are making them happy. “Hello, my treasure. Miss me already?”
‘Of course. When we’re apart I miss you terribly.’
Astarion barked out a laugh. Not sure if they were being sarcastic or not, but chooses to believe that they would be desperate without him. “Of course you do. And? How have our dear friends been without us to guide and protect them?”
‘They’re great-everyone seems so happy.’
“Really?” He was taken aback by that. “Are you sure? I was half certain they’d be half-dead and begging us to take them back.”
‘Well….there is one….’
“Really? Well…I’m not surprised.” Astarion’s interest was piqued now. Certainly it was no surprise to him. Who wouldn’t miss all of this? How helpless they all would have been without the faithful stewardship of his love and his clever resourcefulness to see them through. It wasn’t a surprise that one of them would crave that guidance again.
‘I have a request.’
A request? How odd, Astarion thought. Though they were bound to one another, and he was their master, he was true in his words that he wanted Tav to be his consort, not his spawn. The others he would command as his leisure, for their own good or his amusement, but Tav was free to do as they liked. As long as they were with him. It had been a while since they had made a formal request of him. So this must be serious. Though he can guess what it was.
“Name it darling and it is yours. As always, you can ask me for anything.”
‘I want them to come live with us.’
Bang on the money.
He guessed correctly that that was their request. Nothing else would require his permission in a formal way like that. It filled him with glee that they would ask though. Come crawling in to ask for his permission. And, more than that, do it on behalf of another who would soon be crawling in for his permission as well. “Of course you do my love. You always did have a soft spot for the weak and unfortunate. It is one of your more disgustingly cute qualities.” He told them. “So, who is it? Halsin? Shadowheart?”
Astarion had to assume it was Halsin. He’d already propositioned them once during their travels. Why not try it again? Although, he couldn’t see the big lug willingly spending time in the city. Or giving up on those brats he was so fond of. He hoped it was Shadowheart. Though he had chosen Tav, and correctly, there were times when he’d look at the little lost convert when more than just hunger for her blood. A look he knew reciprocated by her to his future consort when she thought no one was looking.
‘It’s Scratch.’
His fantasies on which of their companions were begging him to take them back and what he would do with them came to a screeching halt when they revealed their intended. “The dog!” Were they really asking him to take in that mangy mutt into his grand palace?? Where it would probably….shed and dig up every potted plant in the house.
‘The Owlbear too.’
“Oh good Gods, now you’re just being ridiculous.” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. This had to be some horrible waking dream he was having. Since he didn’t sleep anymore.
‘You said I could ask for anything.’
“Ask! Not make these insane requests!” Tav gave him one of those stern looks. One that would have made his old self buckle instantly. But he was an all powerful vampire lord now. Their powers wouldn’t work on him anymore. “Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s insane to have animals running around the palace. Where would we even put that behemoth of an Owlbear in the first place?”
‘I seem to remember that there was a very large room under the palace he could stay in. With a little sprucing up.’
Astarion growled in his throat. “No.” They crossed their arms and stared at him, and once again Astarion told them, “No. And that’s final. I won’t have wild animals running around my palace. Ask me for anything else my love, but this is too far.”
Tav uncrossed their arms and their shoulders fell. A sad look on their face that was not quite a pout because they were too grown up for that. They turn to leave and go back to the party before Astarion told them, “Fine.” They perked up and looked over their shoulder at him. Hopefully. “I will…think on it. But I will need some concessions for even considering putting up with this. You may get what you want. But, I get what I want.”
They beam at him, and don’t even consider what he might ask in return as they dash over and kiss him on the cheek as a thank you.
Astarion sighed. “I’m going to stay here and think on this. But you should go – mingle, chat, laugh. Have fun my love. And if our friends drop any interesting secrets, bring them right back to me. Until then, I’ll be here. But don’t fret, I will be watching. I am always watching.”
And he did watch them go. Return to conversations with Shadowheart and Laz’el projection, giddy and happy again. Although he knew it was his doing this time. So he was less annoyed than before.
He then turned to look at the dog and owlbear playing by the bank. The ground literally trembling under the overgrown cub’s feet. Astarion pinched his nose again. He decided it would need to be something very, very, very good if he was going to allow this to happen.
#;pen & paper (fanfiction)#baldur's gate#baldurs gate iii#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#bg3 scenarios#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 imagine#baldurs gate tav#bg3 fanfiction#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#ascended astarion#ascended astarion x tav#ascended astarion x reader#astarion smut#astarion ancunin#scenarios#imagine#owlbear#bg3 scratch#[because I am not satisfied with the epilouge]#[give them back!]
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maybe you could do a fic abt influencer gf! and vinnie 😖 like maybe she’s filming a yt video and he just walks in and basically hard launch their relationship :00
SECRET’S OUT
loveeee this idea !!! thank you for the request !!!
pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!influencer!reader
warnings; cussing, use of pet names, teasing, if i missed anything lmk !!
summary; you’re filming a youtube video and vinnie accidentally lets something slip
you and vinnie had been dating for a couple months now, but you kept your relationship private on socials.
no one on your platforms knew you were dating vinnie. being an influencer mostly meant your whole life was online, and you wanted to keep that part of your life to yourself as much as you could.
when you met vinnie you had told him that most of your life was online and that if the two of you started anything serious, you’d like to keep it private.
he was okay with that and very understanding. there had been arguments in the past about it. him saying he just wants to show you off but he can’t because of your profession.
you felt terrible, feeling like your keeping your relationship a secret instead of just for privacy reasons.
the two of you had a long talk, discussing solutions and talking out feelings. you came to a conclusion and you both were happy with it.
today, you were filming a video for your youtube channel. you had gotten everything set up in your room, making sure nothing was out of place before you hit record on your camera.
you explained how you were going to do a q&a, answering some frequently asked questions and other things that you see often in your comment section.
you pull out your phone and start answering the questions, going into detail about them as you do.
while answering another detailed question, you don’t see the incoming text from your boyfriend that tells you he’s made it to your place.
you wrap up with that question and move onto the next, still not seeing the text. before you can get a word out, your bedroom door opens and you see your boyfriend.
you smile, not knowing how to tell him your currently filming, he obviously doesn’t see the camera being held up by the tripod.
vinnie makes his way to you and tackles you, squeezing you tightly and showering you with kisses.
you giggle at the contact of your boyfriends kisses all over your face. vinnie lifts off you and smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“you look so pretty today, baby.” he whispers, kissing you softly.
“i don’t look pretty everyday?” you tease, making vinnie blush.
you hit his chest lightly and laugh. “i’m just kidding, vin. thank you.”
the two of you sit up, still facing each other. you realize that vinnie still hasn’t noticed the camera, which is filming everything.
“well actually, half the time you do look — what, i look like what?” you cut him off, giving him a smile to let him know you’re not actually upset with what he’s about to say.
“like the most prettiest, beautiful, sexiest, girl in the world.” he says sweetly, adding the last compliment just to see your reaction.
he watches you blush and cover your face with your hands. smiling, he removes your hands from your face.
“there you are!” he gushes. “i’m so lucky to be yours, y’know that?” he asks, caressing your cheek softly.
that’s when you tense up and realize the camera was still rolling, and he had said it loud enough to where it definitely picked it up.
all the touches and kisses didn’t register in your head, half the time you’ve been like this, you two were facing away from the camera, only your backs being shown in the frame.
“shit,” you curse as you carefully push vinnie off you. “i totally forgot.”
vinnie furrows his eyebrows in confusion, wondering what you were talking about.
you turn around and gesture to the film equipment right next to you.
“i was filming a q and a, i totally forgot the camera was still going when you came in..” you said.
vinnie caught on, “and i just slipped, didn’t i?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his face.
the camera was off now, but that doesn’t excuse the fact it picked up everything.
“you could always edit it out. i mean, it was like twenty minutes of just us goofin’ around.” vinnie told.
that was true, but then you’d have to refilm the whole video, having answered a question right as he walked into the room.
“i could always… leave it in?” you ask, wanting to make sure vinnie was comfortable with it.
his smile is so wide across his pretty face that you can’t help but smile too. he walks to you, wrapping his arms around you with a kiss to your head.
“if that’s what you wan— no, i’m asking you, v. do you want me to keep it in?”
you were already warming up to the idea of showing vinnie off on socials, you felt the time was coming soon, and you wanted to take that next step.
you knew vinnie had become a bit hesitant, not wanting your fans to get upset or anything like that. he knew how they could get from time to time.
he smiled at your generosity, holding your hands in his and squeezing them lightly. “i’m okay with it, i think we’ve waited long enough.”
you smile and kiss him, excited for this new step. it wasn’t anything huge, but now all of your followers could finally meet the boy that has made you the happiest you’ve ever been for months now.
grabbing the camera, you head straight to your desk and tell vinnie you’re going to edit it a bit before posting it.
once it’s posted, vinnie kisses your cheek and smiles. “i’m glad the secret is out, the secret that wasn’t really one, but you know.”
you laugh and rub your thumb against his cheekbone, kissing him.
“me too, i’m glad everyone finally gets to meet you now.”
hours after the video was posted, comments on all your platforms were going crazy. most of them said how cute you and vinnie are together, but there were a few that had been a bit rude.
you learned not to let them get the best of you. you had an amazing man that treated you right and loved you unconditionally, that’s all you cared about.
two posts in two days i’m on a roll 🤗
i just feel bad for leavin yall hangin for awhile sometimes, but i promise im working on stuff, life is just busy <\3
i hope you all liked this though !!! i loved writing it, it was so cute <333
tags: @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @forevergirlposts , @slvthrs , @leqonsluv3r , @bernelflo , @visualbutterflysworld , @louloulemons-blog , @st4rswrld , @laylasbunbunny , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @hallecarey1 , @kayleighh , @violet0182 , @lovingsturniolo , @supabhad , @kriissy4gov
#vhackerr#vincent hacker#vinniehacker#vvhacker#vinnie hacker smut#vinniehackerfanfic#vinnie hacker blurb#vinnie hacker fluff#vinnie hacker imagines#vinnie x reader#vinnie x y/n#vinnie hacker headcanon
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A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) part 6
Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader
<- Previous part
Word Count:2,208
*dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist
“Steve, what on earth are you doing here?” you whisper-shout as you round his table.
“I heard this was a great place to get some pie.” he says with a smile. “Plus I came to see you, I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N”
“You can’t be visiting me at work like this, doesn’t this go against our keeping things low-profile agreement.”
“I don’t care about that, I know how I feel about you, and I’m not ashamed of that. I like you a lot, Y/N, and sometimes I think you think like me too, and I want to be the one to make you happy.” he says sincerely.
“It’s not that simple, Steve. Yes I like you, of course I do, but all of it doesn’t matter when I’ve got Billy breathing down my neck and watching my every move. He’d wring my neck if he even saw us talking together right now.”
“I know this whole situation is completely crazy, and not ideal, and hell, I’ve only known you a few short months, but you’ve worked your way into my heart.”
“Steve..”
“I’ll wait for you, however long that may be, I’ll wait for you. You’re worth waiting for.”
You fight against the tears welling up in your eyes at how patiently sweet and loving that this man was to you, your heart pounding against your chest.
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand quickly, turning away, before turning to Robin on your way.
“Uh, Rob, can you serve table 7 for me please, I need to run to the back for something.”
“Sure, is everything okay?” she asks, laying a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“I’m fine, honest I am, thanks” and with that you were rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you with a shaky breath and tears bubbling in your eyes.
Why was nothing simple?
You dry your eyes, and pull yourself together in the bathroom mirror enough to go back out into the diner, and when you look out you find the seat in which Steve was sitting bare. Robin tidying away after him.
“Hey, Y/n, that customer I just served, he sure did leave a generous tip.” she smiled as she wiped down the table with a cloth.
“That’s-uh- that’s really good, Rob, you deserve it.”
The day had felt long and tiring as you sit down with a sigh next to Nancy on the bench outside the diner.
“You waiting on Billy to pick you up?”
“Yeah” you say quietly.
There’s a beat of silence between you two before Nancy speaks again.
“You know, you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. That’s the thing that I have always admired about you, you come into work every day with a bright smile on your face, even though that terrible man is waiting for you at home.”
“I guess being here, making pies and making people happy with the pies that I make is the only time I get to escape from being Billy’s wife. We were so young we got together, and I was too dumb to realise that being Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t all that I thought it was going to be. I've been with him for so long that somewhere down the line I forgot what it was like to just be myself.” you huff, wringing your hands together in your lap. “Not Billy’s wife, not Mrs. Hargrove, just Y/n.”
“Well, you know what? Just Y/N happens to be one of my best friends, and I’m so glad that I get to exist in a world with you in it.” she smiles. “And I’m sure as hell this baby is going to have one of the best mothers that they could ever want for.”
Just as you were settling into the warmth of Nancy’s kind words you’re brought out of it by the blaring horn coming from Billy’s car as it cruised to a stop in front of you.
“Alright, well I’ll see you on Friday Nance, I love you.” you give her a final hug before getting up.
“I love you too darling, take care of yourself.”
You close your eyes as best you can, desperately trying to fall asleep and ignore Billy’s presence in the bed beside you, but that proved to be an impossibility as his form leered over your shoulder, placing a trail of kisses to your shoulder.
“Babe, I know you’re awake, why don’t you come a little closer and treat me how a good wife treats her husband, huh?” He says in that way he does when he’s trying to get what he wants from you. It makes your skin crawl.
“I don’t feel like it.” you mutter, burying yourself deeper under the covers of the duvet in the hopes that somehow the world would just disappear around you.
“What makes you think you have that option, hmm?” his hand traces up your arm, and it’s all you can do to close your eyes as he leans close, his voice in your ear. “I feed you, I pay for the roof over our heads, I put clothes on your back, c’mon all you gotta do is reach behind and give me a little hand-job or something? I ain’t askin’ for the world, sweetcheeks,”
“Billy, please, I’m really tired. I just want to sleep.”
“Fine, if you’re not going to look after me, I guess I’m just going to have to take matters into my own hands.” he grumbles, before getting out of bed and making his way to the bathroom. “I’m gonna go have a shower and jerk off since you wanna be a bitch about it.”
The bathroom door closes behind him and you suddenly let go of a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding on to. A relief washes over you, finally a chance at peace. You snuggle down into the sheets, laying a protective hand settling around your growing bump.
Dear Baby, I hope someday someone wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. Without any expectations, hope or agenda, and they don’t pull away. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on to you tight without an ounce of selfishness to it.
Steve had texted you, apologising for showing up to the diner unannounced, asking you for the chance to make it up to you. You told him that it was fine, that his apology wasn’t necessary but he still insisted so, you told him to come to your house at 8.00 am sharp, but to stay behind the cover of the trees on the opposite street, watching out for Billy as he took off for work for the day.
Pregnant, affair with your doctor, lying to your husband pie. Chopped walnuts and pecans, lumpy oatmeal with raisins instead of chocolate chips thrown in for good measure, flambé, of course..
At 8 am sharp there’s a knock on your door, and you can’t help the excited buzz you feel settling its place in your heart. You pad your way towards your front door, waddling slightly as you walk, the past few weeks in your pregnancy had suddenly made the easy, everyday things very difficult and tiresome. Your belly was now rounding out in front of you very prominently, there was certainly no hiding the fact that you were pregnant now.
“Hey, I just wanted to apologise for upsetting you last week, I didn’t mean to just show up to the diner unannounced like that, but I was driving past and before I knew it I was pulling up just to come and see you.”
He’s dressed in a simple and soft navy henley shirt, and pair of light-wash denim jeans, his hair flounces in a perfectly messy style that on anyone else would have looked unkempt, but he carries it off so effortlessly. As you bring him in for a hug, his warm and woodsy scent fills your senses, wishing he would hold you for just a bit longer, if only to be surrounded in his welcoming warmth.
“That’s really sweet of you, Steve. Why don’t you come in?” you say, standing back and opening the door for him to come through. “Billy’s gone for the day, and I’m off work, so I was going to spend my day trial-running a couple of new pie flavours, you wanna join me?”
“I would love nothing more.” he smiles in that glorious way that he always does, pink lips curving into rose-tinted cheeks.
You set out all your ingredients and mixing bowls on the kitchen’s work table, before reaching for your apron that hangs on the hook of the kitchen’s door.
“Here, let me.” Steve says as he takes the apron from your hands, and pulls it over your head. The material clinging to your belly. “Turn around for me.” and as you turn around, you feel his strong hands tying off the strings of the apron in a neat little bow at your back.
You bring out the pastry you had already made from the fridge before handing it over to Steve.
“Here, do me a favour, sprinkle some flour down and roll this out for me please.”
He does as you ask, dusting the worktop in flour before placing down the pastry and rolling the rolling pin over it.
“How’s this?” he smiles looking at you from over his shoulder where you are mixing together the filling for the pie on the stovetop. A slowly stewing mixture of pink rhubarb, green apples and red cherries, bubbling together in a sugary sweet-syrupy mixture.
“Looks good, now all we’ve got to is blind bake the pie shell for a couple of minutes whilst this comes together.”
“Mmhmm” he hums gently, the pie shell in its tin ready to go, left out on the worktop for a moment as he turns his attention to you, brushing your hair away from your neck as gently kisses your soft skin.
“Y’know, it was my mom who taught me how to bake a pie. I would sit on the kitchen counters every time and just watch her as she worked. She was always so happy in what she was doing, not once did I ever see her in the kitchen without a smile on her face. She’d come up with all these different flavours and combinations and it was delicious every single time. She’d always tell me that the secret ingredient was love, and I don’t know if I ever fully believed her until I started baking for myself. She’d always give the pies the strangest names too, like ‘Bed-Time Story pie’ or ‘Summer Vacation pie’, my favourite one was ‘Pretty Baby pie’, she told me that that was the pie she made when she found out she was pregnant with me.”
“And what’s this one called?” he asks, nodding towards the mixture of fruit bubbling away on the stove.
“Well let’s just call it, hidden lover’s pie” you smile, turning the stovetop off and turning to look at him and as he looks back at you he cups your face in his hands and kisses your lips so sweetly. Pulling back from your lips he smiles at you so warmly.
“You're so beautiful.”
“I’m fat.” you laugh softly, resting a hand on your baby bump.
“You’re pregnant, there’s nothing in the world more beautiful than that.”
“Well I sure as hell don’t feel beautiful. I’m tired and cranky, totally not prepared and have no idea what I’m even doing. Just thinking about having this baby makes me scared as hell. I don’t know how to be a mother.”
“Nobody knows what they’re doing the first time they have a baby. I mean, my friend, Eddie and his wife had a baby not too long ago, and that man was the most nervous, terrified, panicked father-to-be that I had ever seen, but as soon as I delivered that little baby girl and he got to hold her in his arms for the first time? It was like a switch flipped in his brain and it all suddenly clicked into place.”
“You delivered her?”
“Yeah, little Lydia Munson, I’m her god-father too. She’s a sweet kid, and her parents love her so much, she makes them very happy.”
You give a short hum as Steve takes your hands and pulls you close to his body, wrapping his arms around you in a safe, loving hug.
“..She makes them happy, just like being right here, with you in my arms, makes me happy.” he says, and with that he wastes no time in kissing his lips against yours once more, one hand tangled in your hair, the other hand is a steady presence on the curve your hip as he leans into you more to deepen the kiss.
You make me happy too, Steve, more than you could ever know.
You allow yourself this moment of quiet and blissful peace in Steve’s arms. A chance to let yourself just be taken as you are, not as Billy’s wife, not as the waitress from the diner, just as Y/N, nothing more, nothing less.
@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson @paybacksawitch @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies
#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x female Reader#Steve Harrington x reader series#Steve Harrington x female reader series#Steve Harrington fluff#Steve Harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington fanfiction
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Gilded Family
Rating: Teen and Up, Gen
Ch 39/39: Closure
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36, Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 38.5
An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.
Ao3
Xxx
“I don’t know about this.”
Cyrus tried to turn around, but A.T. caught his shoulders, turning him around, and Phoenix gave him a push towards the townspeople cleaning up wreckage and graffiti. Most importantly, towards the blue demon boy stabilizing a broken wall.
“Do you like him, or no?”
“I mean, yes,” Cyrus replied, “But we went on one sort-of date ages ago, before everything went screwy! What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if he doesn’t even remember it?”
“You were halfway through a date before you were suddenly interrupted and dragged off by your family, and then a wild witch showed up and was chased through the streets,” A.T. reminded him, “How could he forget that date?”
“Yes, but what if the whole concealment stone thing drives him away? What if—if—”
“What if he’s got terrible amnesia?” A.T. suggested, “What if he’s got a new boyfriend? What if I unhinge my jaw and swallow him whole before you have the chance to speak to him?”
“What?” Phoenix and Cyrus asked in unison.
“Exactly, it’s all impossible. Go talk to him.”
Cyrus didn’t look too convinced, but he also seemed too startled by A.T.’s statement to protest, and made his way towards his one-time date. He waved awkwardly, saying something Phoenix couldn’t hear. The demon left his work, dusting his hands off, and tilting his head in a question. Cyrus pulled out his concealment stone, put it on, transformed, then took it off when his partner’s eyes lit up with recognition. He put the stone back in his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I’m actually super terrible for lying and you should never even look at me again,” A.T. mimed in a terrible imitation of Cyrus—a truly impressive feat, given how much his natural voice already sounded like their sibling. “I don’t think I’m worth it, even though I totally deserve a spectacular boyfriend!” He switched his voice to a lower pitch when the demon spoke up. A.T. even imitated his tentative hand one Cyrus’ arm.
“Wow, you look so much better without the concealment stone! Let’s get married forever!”
“I don’t think that’s what he’s saying.”
“Could be. You don’t know.”
Cyrus said something else, glancing back at A.T. and Phoenix. A.T. waved when the demon looked over, but the demon barely seemed to see him, his eyes latching onto Phoenix and sparking with something that was almost recognition, but fogged over by confusion.
Right. I ran into him when he was a puppet.
Phoenix wondered how many other former puppets would look at him with that unease, that sense of not quite remembering why he made them uncomfortable, but knowing somewhere in their unconscious mind that he’d played with the Collector, stood by while they were paraded around helplessly.
But Cyrus’ date shook himself, waved back at A.T., and turned back to Cyrus, enthusiastically explaining the work he was doing with a lot of arm waving. Cyrus went along with him, a small, happy smile blooming on his face.
“Aw, well, that’s sweet.” A.T. tugged his hair. “Boy, this place looks different. I hope they don’t rebuild it the exact same. I’d like to see something new.”
“Well, for one thing, there won’t be specialized cells for wild witches,” someone said behind them, “Thank the titan for that.”
A short witch grinned at them. She looked familiar, but Phoenix couldn’t quite place why until she nodded at an alleyway. “Seems like just yesterday you lot helped me out of here, and now, well, I’m back! This time without the chasing, hopefully. Where’s your little friend, the one with the jokes? And the older one?”
“Oh!” Phoenix blurted out. “The witch at the coven day—hey! You made it past the day of unity?”
“Mhm. One of the Collector’s little spies picked me up later, but I’m back now. You would not believe all the apologies I’ve been getting. It’s going to go to my head if I’m not careful. Maybe I should set some scaffolding on fire and give them a new reason to chase me out of town, for old times’ sake. Or at the least to test how far their ‘we’re so sorry, wild witches were right’ sentiments go.”
A.T. reached into his pocket and wordlessly held out a box of matches.
“Did you just have those on you?” Phoenix asked.
“You never know when you’ll have to light a fire,” A.T. remarked serenely, “Just ask Frank.”
The wild witch barked a laugh. “I like you. I’m Annette Thompson; what do they put on your wanted posters?”
A.T.’s face burst into a wide grin. “Matching initials!”
“What’s yours stand for, then?”
“I’ve been told not to ask,” Phoenix told her.
“Oh, a mystery?”
A.T. wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “One that is unlocked after we light enough fires together.”
Annette laughed again. “I suppose we better start, then.”
“Please don’t light anything too important on fire,” Phoenix called desperately after them, “Or better yet—no fires!”
Cyrus jogged over just as A.T. and Annette disappeared into the construction. “I think I need to quit distracting Raphael right now, but he told me when he gets off of construction work, and… where’s A.T. gone off to?”
“To light a fire? I think? He’s made a friend. Or… partner in crime? Possibly both.”
Alarm flashed across Cyrus’ face. “We should be worried, right? We should stop them? They’re just rebuilding.”
Phoenix waved a hand. “I’m sure it’s… fine. Ish.”
“Mm.” Cyrus squinted at the bustling streets. “I guess as long as he doesn’t light anything huge on fire in the middle of my second date.”
“On second thought, I think I’ll go find them.”
Xxx
“I’m leaving.”
Caleb glanced up at Joseph’s declaration, still mostly-engrossed in kneading bread dough for dinner. “Thanks for letting me know. What time do you think you’ll be back?”
“No, I mean, I’m leaving. To go do something else. I won’t be around for… I don’t know how long.”
Phoenix and Frank glanced at each other, but quietly kept chopping up vegetables, pretending they weren’t listening to every word.
“Oh.” Caleb struggled for words, finally managing a simple “I see.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Joseph said quickly. Despite the confidence he’d originally announced himself with, he brimmed with nervous energy, turning a loose griffin feather over and over in his hands, “I love you, and I love the family, and I’ll definitely come back to visit, I just think…” He took a deep breath. “I want to go somewhere else. I’ve been in the same place for so long—and before that, I was with Belos. Now that our home is gone, and we’re rebuilding, and everything is changing anyway… I want to go up to the hand.”
He waved his hands, his nervous energy transforming into excitement. “I mean—the arm is sticking straight up! It’s taller than the Knee now—there’s no telling how the ecosystem up there is going to shift. Plants are going to change to fit the new shape, and the animals are going to have to adapt—and I want to see it. I want to see all the new creatures this brings, I want to see how the old creatures adapt or move somewhere new, or just fail… and I just want to get out and see everything the Isles has. I want to study beasts where they are, out in their natural environments, and I can’t do that if I stay here. I need to go. Please.”
“Okay,” Caleb said slowly. He wiped flour off his hands. “You don’t need my permission, you know that, right?” A wobbly smile appeared on his face. “I gave all of you the choice to leave or stay, remember? I never said that choice had to be permanent.”
Joseph’s shoulders visibly sank in relief. “Thank you.”
“What about the griffins?” Frank asked, finally breaking the unspoken treaty of silence between he and Phoenix.
“I thought—” Joseph rubbed the back of his neck. “—that is—if it’s alright—I thought I’d take Lucy. That’ll make the space restraints with moving closer to town less of an issue. The other griffins I think will be alright as long as they’re fed and exercised, but Lucy… anyway, this—it means the world to me.”
Caleb gave him a small, sad smile. “Permission to…?”
Joseph grabbed Caleb in a bear hug, squeezing so tightly that Phoenix thought he heard Caleb’s back pop. “Thank you, Dad,” he mumbled, his voice thick, “Thank you for everything.”
Caleb hugged back just as tightly. “I’m going to miss you. But I hope wherever you go—I hope you’re happy. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope… I hope…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, instead giving Joseph one last squeeze and letting go.
“Say goodbye to your mom, too, okay?”
“Of course. And everyone—I wouldn’t just disappear. Of course not.”
Joseph wandered out of the kitchen, searching for Evelyn, and Caleb sat down with a whump.
“Are you okay?” Phoenix asked quietly.
He managed a tired smile. “Of course, of course. I always knew that someday… I mean, I hoped that one day the world would be safe enough for you. I think I always sort of knew that the house was too small, and that one day some of you might want to leave.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t believe any amount of time would have actually prepared me for it.”
Phoenix thought of the first time he’d seen Darius after Belos’ attack—how he’d suddenly looked so grown up, how the realization that he didn’t need a mentor anymore had punched him in the gut. “No,” he agreed, “I don’t think it would.”
Caleb took a deep breath. “Things are changing right now,” he admitted, “We’ve been… living in a bubble. The only surprises were when one of you would join the house. But now… now the world’s opened up to us, and nothing will be the same.” He gave Phoenix and Frank a tired smile. “At risk of sounding like my brother, I’m not quite sure I’m ready for the change.”
Frank chuckled. “Now you know how we felt when we woke up in a different century.” He shrugged and chopped furiously at the vegetables on the board. “Things are going to be different. But some things are going to be the same, like—” he yanked back from the cutting board with a short scream.
Phoenix dropped his knife, and Caleb jumped up immediately. “Are you okay?! Did you cut yourself?!”
“My arm!” Frank yelped, “I’ve chopped it in with the vegetables! I didn’t even notice! The whole thing’s gone!”
“Terrible,” Phoenix told him, picking his knife back up, “You are just awful.”
Frank grinned, cheerfully resuming his chopping. “And that is something you can count on never changing.
Xxx
The front of Darius’ house buzzed with activity. Lake and Locke even managed to drag Sam out, although he still fidgeted with that strange box Ghost had found. Joseph paced nervously back and forth, and Lucy eyed him like she might be on the verge of sitting on him. But despite the nervousness, the saddlebags on Lucy and the backpack on Joseph looked natural. Right, even. Even his clothes—he’d bundled up for the likely lower temperatures—seemed to fit him better. His eyes shone with a healthy, excited glow.
“I’ll miss you.”
Joseph tousled Jason’s hair, grinning when Jason pushed his hand away. “Don’t get too mopey over me, or Lucy might turn around midair just to squash you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come back soon, okay? I want to read about all the new things you find up there.”
“You’ll be the first to see the notes,” Joseph promised. He glanced over Jason’s head at Cherry. “Take care of them, yeah? Especially keep your eye on this one. He’s trouble. He’ll get another concussion if he can manage it.”
Jason stuck his tongue out.
“Always.” Cherry’s one eye flicked back and forth nervously, glancing up at the sky like he was hoping for some sudden terrible weather to appear and delay Joseph just a little longer. “Stay safe.
“Always,” Joseph echoed, “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” He turned to Evelyn and Caleb. “Thank you.”
“You’ll always have a room with us,” Caleb told him, “You know that?”
“I know.”
Evelyn straightened his scarf. “Go find some new wild things. I just know you’ll figure out some way to befriend them.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
Joseph hugged Evelyn and Caleb, climbed on Lucy’s back, and clicked his tongue. The griffin sprang up into the air, her huge wings beating massive gusts of wind onto their heads. Soon, the two of them were just a speck in the sky, sailing towards the raised arm of the titan.
Xxx
“I can’t do it.”
Evelyn gave Auric a gentle shove towards Hexside’s doors. “Yes, you can.”
Auric scratched at the scars on his neck, balking. “I’m too old. Hexside stops at eighteen, and I’m twenty. They won’t let me.”
“I talked to Bump,” Phoenix reassured him, “He and I go back—and Darius talked to him about it, too. You’re not going to be a regular student, no, but the healing teacher agreed to take you on after school, and help you transition into healing-specific schools for graduates. Like an apprenticeship.”
“I don’t have magic,” Auric replied, changing tack, “I can’t do the kinds of… I can’t do it. I’m never going to be as good as them, so—”
“Hey,” Evelyn said sharply, “Who kept Caleb and I from bleeding out?”
“You would have died without the pain sharing spell, I—”
“Who patched up all the refugees when I couldn’t heal anyone?” Evelyn demanded.
“Those weren’t life-threatening injuries, it wasn’t even—”
“You splinted and casted Clara’s broken bone and kept her cheerful,” Phoenix offered, “You were the first one to realize something was wrong with my arms.”
“You stitched Matt up when he came home injured,” Evelyn added, “Face it, Auric—you’re as good a healer as anyone. Magic or no. Magic healers have it easy—we draw a circle, and the wound disappears. But you? You have to put so much thought into what you’re doing, and you have to do it quick. You are incredible, Auric.”
Auric scratched at his neck again. “I’m just not sure.”
“If you really don’t want to do this, then we can go back home,” Evelyn said softly, “But I want you to look me in the eye and tell me with absolute certainty, that going to healing school is something you don’t want.”
Auric took a step back, then a step forward, hovering between Evelyn and the door. “You think I’ll really be able to do it?”
“Would I have put my life in your hands if I wasn’t absolutely certain?”
Auric took a deep breath, taking a decisive step towards Hexside’s doors. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Xxx
“Hey! Over here!”
A hand closed around Phoenix’s arm, pulling him into the empty kitchen. “Phoenix.” Matt laced his fingers together. “You were part of the emperor’s coven when it was actually, you know, a coven.”
Phoenix winced at the reminder. What was this about? “Yes?”
“So you were around a lot of people.”
Where was he going with this? “Yeeessss?”
“Do you know how to plan a party.”
Phoenix stared at him. “What.”
“A party. Do you know how to plan one? Cyrus and I were in town, and his boyfriend invited him to a housewarming party for one of the newly rebuilt houses—well, he invited me, too, but that was just to be polite, I’m not going. Anyway, the point is, I think a housewarming party sounds nice. We could have one for our house, once we’ve actually built it. It would be…” Matt waved a hand. “You know. A normal thing.”
“A normal thing,” Phoenix echoed.
“Something other people do. I think it might help us settle into the town better, you know? Break some of the tension.”
“Have you run this by Caleb and Evelyn yet?”
“I sort of wanted to surprise them. I’ll warn everyone else, of course, but if we’re going to get anywhere with this, first I need someone who can actually plan a party.”
“A party?” Like the word had summoned him, Darius seemed to materialize behind Phoenix. He arched one eyebrow at Matt. “And you asked Phoenix to help plan it?”
“Hey, I planned social functions.”
“The very fact that you just called a party a social function is proof that you aren’t up to the task. What party?”
Matt explained his plan, and Darius nodded slowly. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Who would you invite?”
“You, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“Um… Cyrus’ boyfriend Raphael? Maybe that woman A.T. started hanging out with… I bet Jason will want to invite the kids. I guess we could invite the refugees who stayed with us, if anyone knows where they went.” Matt scratched the back of his head. “Do we know anyone else??
“Oh, titan,” Darius murmured under his breath.
“Eda and Lilith,” Phoenix volunteered, “Eber. I think that’s everyone.”
“Small party,” Darius commented.
“There’s over twenty of us, any party we host is already huge.”
“Fair enough.” Darius twirled a finger in the air. “If you’re after goodwill from the townsfolk, shouldn’t you invite some of them? Other than Cyrus’ boyfriend, that is.”
Matt winced. “Inviting strangers isn’t the best plan. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but most of us aren’t exactly the trusting, openly friendly type.”
“I had noticed something of the sort, believe it or not,” Darius said dryly, “Why don’t you go people watch? Pick guests you don’t find threatening. People who aren’t likely to cause friction, accidentally or on purpose.”
“Reconnaissance. We can do that.”
Darius squeezed his eyes shut. “Reconnaissance. Oh, heavens. Please take Jason with you.”
Xxx
“Not that one. Not that one. Ooo, that one gave me an apology basket, let’s invite him.”
Phoenix glanced over at Annette. “You don’t have to help us.”
“Hey, if they’re not friendly towards a wild witch, they won’t be friendly towards your lively bunch either. My insight is incredibly valuable.”
“Hm.”
“Now might be a good time to test that elixir,” Jason commented mildly.
Phoenix glanced down at his arms. Matt had chosen the top a construction crane, of all places, to people-watch from. It had been a miracle—and Annette’s magic—that he’d gotten up here in the first place. And being out in the town without a concealment stone… it made his skin itch. The curse shifted uneasily, reacting to the stress. It was so ridiculous it almost made him laugh; he’d gotten through the Collector’s “games, the apocalypse, and attempted possession, but being up a little too high and getting a little stressed was making the curse react?
“Here goes nothing.” Phoenix tilted the golden bottle back. Eda had warned him not to let it sit in his mouth, but she hadn’t prepared him for the explosion of terrible flavors that washed over his tongue. He swallowed with a gag. “Tastes like burned animal hair,” he said with a grimace.
“But look.” Jason pointed at his arms. The curse settled back into his normal flesh. He could still feel it curled up inside of him, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, but it seemed… passive. Dormant. Almost like it was taking a nap. Some of the bone-weary exhaustion that seemed to stay no matter how long he slept faded into a background numbness.
“Huh. I guess… I’ll be asking Lilith for her recipe.”
“You think it’ll help long-term?”
Phoenix shrugged. “I know the curse has been useful sometimes, but… it’s a little hard on my arms.” He flexed his fingers, wondering at the difference that slight lift from exhaustion had made. “And I’m starting to think it might have been taking up a little more of my energy than I realized.”
Jason nudged his shoulder. “Sam could have told you that.”
“Yeah, yeah. He’d probably love to run a thousand tests on my day-to-day fatigue levels with and without elixirs.”
“Nah, he’s too busy with that box. Potion-brewing lessons for Phoenix, then. Mom will be ecstatic.” Jason kicked his legs aimlessly, watching the people down below. “You guys ever think about what you want to do now that we’re not on the run?”
“Mix as many kinds of magic together as I can,” Annette answered immediately, “Let’s test the ‘wild magic is dangerous’ theory. I bet some of it could be.”
“Oh, wow, you and A.T. really are perfect for each other. Matt?”
“Something normal.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know. I just want to live a normal life. Make some friends. Get a job. Maybe fall in love, start a family. Do something stupid and young.” Matt shrugged. “I lost my childhood and my teen years to Belos. Everything was one nonstop, horrifying adventure. Everything was some grand purpose. I kind of want to just have a boring life now.”
He heaved a sigh. “I had a choice, you know? Belos just sort of ditched me in the middle of the boiling sea, so when Caleb found me, I was dehydrated and exhausted, but not… dying. I chose to go with Caleb forward in time. I thought if Belos was already destined to be alive for centuries, there wouldn’t be any escaping him in my time. Now that we’ve actually finally gotten away from him… I just want to leave all that behind.”
Matt gave them all a quick smile. “Not that I’d leave the family behind, of course! I still want to be with you guys, I just…” He fell into a pensive silence, staring out at the people below. “I don’t know. I guess Joseph wasn’t the only one with an itch to get out there. This party, getting our foot in the door and helping Mom and Dad get back in the social life of the Isles… it just feels like the right thing to do before going. Not that I’d leave right after. I still don’t have any solid plans. But someday.”
Phoenix didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. It had been enough of a shock when Joseph had left. He’d known, of course, that things would change. Phoenix himself wouldn’t even be at the house on weekends anymore. But between Joseph leaving, Matt’s plan, Auric’s apprenticeship, and the appearance of new people in Cyrus and A.T.’s lives… everything was moving so fast. Maybe they’d stopped running for their lives, but their lives still kept running. He’d barely had the time to get used to the quiet life in the woods before it was completely overturned.
“Wow,” Jason said finally, “Have you told Mom or Dad yet? What about Ash?”
“I don’t want to spring this on them right now. I mean, with the house building, and everyone still healing, and Joseph just leaving… it’s not right. I don’t have a solid plan, and even if I left right after the party, that’s still months of house-building away.” Matt brushed his hair out of his face. “So… don’t tell anyone just yet, yeah?
“My lips are sealed,” Jason promised. He pointed down at the street. “That one, Annette, they stopped to feed a stray, put them on the list.” He sighed. “Wish I had a plan.”
Phoenix ruffled his hair. “You’re eighteen. Give yourself a minute.”
Jason pushed at his hand. “Hunter has it all figured out, and he’s only sixteen! He already knows he’s going to be a palisman carver!”
“You’re not Hunter. Most of us don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t. Eda offered the idea of mentoring, but I don’t know if I’ll take it.”
Jason looked up at him with big, sparkling eyes. “Awwwwwwwww, but you’d be so good at it!”
“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. Nice try.”
“Hey, I meant it. I wasn’t just trying to distract you.”
“Sure. Anyway, take it slow. Joseph knew what he wanted. Matt kind of knows what he wants. But you don’t have to have your whole life figured out just yet. I mean, everyone on the Isles is a bit displaced right now. There are tons of scouts who have no idea what they’re going to do with their lives now. Everyone’s shaken by what happened and wondering what we’ll do without the covens. So just… take it easy. Forget your entire future, let’s plan small. What do you want to do in the next few weeks?”
“Hm. I sort of want to go back to the human realm. Visit Camila. Maybe go back to the library there. Oh—and I want to take Novus. Phoenix, they have so much mechanical stuff there. I think he’ll explode. And I want to help look for where we’ll build the new house. Of course I’m going to help Matt with his guest list and party planning. And… why are you grinning like that?”
“No reason,” Phoenix said lightly, “It just sounds to me like you’ve got plenty of plans for the future.”
Jason wrinkled his nose at Phoenix. “Alright, point taken. But hey, there goes my point. You’re a great mentor.”
“Thanks.” Phoenix tousled Jason’s hair again. This time, he let him.
Xxx
Caleb eyed Phoenix critically. “You’re supposed to be resting your leg.”
He was, in fact, supposed to be sitting back at Darius’ house doing nothing, but Darius had left to deal with some Terra sighting, and almost everyone else was out close to their old home scouting for a new place to build. The whole place had been quiet, except for occasional mutterings from Sam while he fruitlessly searched for a way to open that stone box.
Phoenix sighed. “If I’m stuck sitting around resting my leg for five more minutes, the curse is going to take over from boredom and I’m going to run back into the woods.”
Caleb blinked twice. “Could that actually happen? Your curse activating from boredom, I mean?”
“I doubt it. Besides, I took an elixir today, it should be fine. I won’t move too much, I promise. I’ll find a spot to sit around out here. I just needed to get out.”
“Did you tell Sam you were leaving?”
“He’s not going to look up from that box for at least another twelve hours. He won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“He should just pour some explosive potion on that box and be done with it,” Novus suggested as he walked by, arms full of levels and angle-measurers, “Or cut into it. That’s the pragmatic thing to do.”
Caleb laughed. “It’s not about getting what’s inside for him, it’s about solving the puzzle. If he gives up, then I’ll let you at it with your tools.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“Anyway—you’re probably right, Phoenix, but still.”
“If Sam figures out I’m gone, he’ll probably just shrug and go back to the box. I don’t think he’s desperate to always have someone around. Unless he solves the box, in which case, he’ll tear over here immediately and demand to know why I wasn’t there to witness his moment of triumph.” Phoenix sat down on a log with a sigh. “I messaged Darius to tell him where I was going. Hopefully that’s enough.”
“Hopefully.”
Caleb wandered off, apparently satisfied that Phoenix wouldn’t rebreak his ankle. Phoenix sat on the stump watching his family. Novus kept laying out string where the house would be, testing different spots with his tools, while Lake casually picked the rope up and moved it just a couple inches to the left whenever he wasn’t looking. Matt wrote furiously in a small notebook—party plans, if Phoenix had to guess. Evelyn drew small circles, testing out her construction magic. Everywhere bustled with movement. If someone wasn’t actively making house plans, they were transporting construction materials, or overseeing everyone else.
“They don’t know how to sit still, do they?” Alex plopped down next to Phoenix. “Neither do you.” They shrugged. “I guess it’s good when we’re trying to build a house. What do you think they’ll find to do afterwards?”
“What do you mean?”
Alex gestured at the busy family. “When the house is finished, what do you think they’ll do? What will you do? None of us are good at stopping and staying still for a moment. We just keep going and going and going. So what are we supposed to do once we finish building the new house?”
“We just… live in it, I guess,” Phoenix answered slowly.
“Hm.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do?”
Alex shrugged. “Keep my feet on the ground, that’s the only thing I know for sure. Stay away from heights.”
“Seconded. How are the falling dreams? Have they gotten any better?”
“Careful, you sound like Dad.”
“Sorry, I just… you know, I don’t think I ever thanked you.”
“For what?”
“When you told me where you died—that’s how we found Ghost. So… thank you.”
“Oh. You’re welcome.” Alex went very still, staring pointedly at anything but Phoenix. “Hey, can I ask you something? And… do you promise not to tell anyone what I said?”
“Sure. But, uh… why me?” Surely there were other grimwalkers Alex was closer to. Phoenix had only ever spoken to them the once.
Alex eyed him critically. “Because you’re the only one who backed off, no questions asked, when I told you I just wanted space to process. I don’t know, I feel like I can trust you to understand. Um. Do you think it would be weird if I moved out of the house really soon?”
The question shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Joseph had already left, and Matt was planning on it—the moving fever was contagious. But still, Phoenix flinched at the idea of one more grimwalker leaving. “Well,” he said carefully, “I don’t think it would be… I mean, Joseph already broke the ice on that one.”
“I know.” Alex combed their fingers through their hair. “But Joseph was… Joseph. He was big. He was determined. He was capable of wrestling beasts and winning. He… well, he didn’t have a panic attack every time he tripped. What if Mom and Dad don’t think I’m ready?”
“They’ll let you anyway.”
“Right. But would it be weird? I mean, we’re building this house together, and then I… I wouldn’t be in it. They’d build a room for me, for what? For me to leave right after? I don’t want them to think I’ve wanted to leave this whole time and was just waiting for the all-clear.”
“Well, why do you want to leave?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why do you want to leave? Because you want space?”
“Oh. Yes. Something like that.” Alex twisted their hair and let it go. “Time. And space. And I love Mom and Dad and everyone, don’t get me wrong, they’re just… sometimes a little much. So. Um.” Alex gestured towards the town. “You know. Maybe I’ll leave. But I don’t want it to be…”
“Awkward?”
“Yes.”
“You should talk to them about it. I know that’s not your strong suit, but… give it a shot?”
“They’re busy right now.”
Phoenix watched as Novus gestured to Evelyn. She drew one glowing finger in a wide circle, and huge stone walls rose out of the ground where he’d laid out string, her eyes on his blueprints. Her free hand directed another circle, and abominations sludged their way towards the neat piles of tiles, shingles, glass panes, scooping them up and using the stone walls as a base to build windows and roofs.
“Not for long.”
Xxx
“Wow.” Phoenix’s voice echoed in the empty space. He hadn’t realized how everything in the old house had muffled sound until he stood in the empty rooms Evelyn had built. “This took two days?”
“And Evelyn will be passed out for about five,” Caleb said disapprovingly, “I wish she’d taken it slower.”
Lake bounced down a set of stairs, each footstep echoing off the walls and turning into a marching army. “Is Sam getting two rooms again? Because he’s already claimed one of the empty ones up there for his lab.”
“Oh, no,” Novus said casually, “I gave the house a couple of extra rooms for Ghost and Hunter, but I’m taking over the lab space for my work. Machinery will be far more useful than the glyphs now.” He laughed at Caleb’s stricken face. “I’m joking. There’s enough rooms for both. He can have a lab.”
Lake tilted their head. “Seems kinda… bare.”
“We’ll paint the walls,” Caleb promised. He moved through the space with a twinkle in his eye. “The kitchen will be here. Dining room right next to it, of course. What do you guys think of getting a family picture? I’ve always wanted one.”
“What about Achsah’s room?”
Caleb froze.
Lake scratched the back of their neck. “I mean… we saved some of her stuff. Some of the photographs were okay. We could try to set it all up again. But it won’t really be her room anymore. We’ll just be recreating it. Is that something you and Mom want?”
It was like in the absence of Locke, or Sam to bother, Lake had lost their usual goofy demeanor. Phoenix had never seen them be serious for more than two seconds—to drop this reminder on Caleb shocked Phoenix almost as much as it did their ortet.
“Um,” Caleb said in a strangled whisper, “I don’t know. I don’t…”
The kitchen and dining room area held a startling similarity to the old house—Novus had probably designed it that way on purpose. Caleb turned and wandered, half dazed, into the room that would have been Achsah’s back at home.
Lake watched him go passively. “That went well. Do you want to check out the rest of the house? Novus put a state of the art hidden room behind the dining room. The wall slides out and everything.”
“You’re not going to go check on him?”
“Nah, he needs a second by himself.”
Lake wandered through the empty halls, and Phoenix followed. “I don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
Phoenix struggled for a moment to find the right words. “Why you?” he said finally.
“Because Cherry already took one for the team and yelled at Dad for sacrificing himself.”
“Really? That’s it?”
Lake shrugged. “Locke and I overheard Cherry and Novus talk about it when they first showed us the plans—you know how we like to lurk. Lurking is our favorite. Anyway, Cherry told Novus to just leave it in the plans, and we’d get there later, but, well, like I said, Cherry already did the lecture. Someone else’s turn to be the bearer of unwanted news.” Lake blew a strand of hair out of their face. “Would have loved for it to be Sam, Mr. Logic of Logics, but, well.”
They opened a door. Sure enough, Sam had claimed a space for a lab. Right now, he sat on the floor, twisting pieces of the box. He looked up.
“The box is a gridded cube!” he called excitedly, “Jason has compared it to something in the human realm called a ‘rubik’s cube’ and promised to find me one whenever he next visits. I just have to find the right combination…”
Lake closed the door. “You see the problem. Anyway, Locke and I rock-paper-scissors over it, which he ALWAYS wins, you would not BELIEVE how effective it is when he yells out his choice after I’ve already put my hand out. So I was Mr. Logic of Logics today.” They scratched the back of their head. “Not my favorite of jobs. I tried to channel Sam energy, how’d I do?”
Phoenix shook his head. “How do you do that?”
“What, channel Sam energy? It’s very easy, I just think ‘books, books, books’ in my head over and over again until I’m sufficiently stuffy and sneezing out big words.”
“No, I mean you and Locke—how do you stay so…”
“Charming?”
“…upbeat,” Phoenix finished.
Lake shook their head sadly. “It’s all a coping mechanism, we’re so sad and we cover it up with jokes so that no one will see the empty pit of despair welling up inside.” They grinned, immediately dispelling any thought Phoenix might have had that they were being serious. “Look, Phoenix. You just have to stop taking everything so seriously. We beat Belos! We survived! You’re on track for managing your curse! We’re building a great big house! We fought hard. Now enjoy the spoils.”
Loud banging echoed through the house, metal on wood. Lake glanced at an imaginary watch. “It appears to be checking on Dad o’clock.”
Caleb had left “Achsah’s” room. Instead, he sat in the empty place where the kitchen would be, building a table. He gave Phoenix a cheerful grin. “Been a while since I’ve done any woodworking.”
“You seem… chipper,” Phoenix said cautiously.
“Oh, for Titan’s sake, I can’t do this,” Lake whispered under their breath. They disappeared, and came back with Sam. “Go,” they ordered, pointing him towards Caleb.
Sam blinked, as if disoriented by how fast Lake had separated him from the cube and dragged him here. “Nice table. Avoiding our problems again?”
“I’m not avoiding anything. We need furniture if we’re going to live in this house. I’m solving problems.”
“Very reasonable,” Sam agreed, “How about that problem of Achsah’s room?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Phoenix sighed. This was going nowhere. “Are you okay?” he asked Caleb, “I know this can’t be easy. I know how much keeping her room meant to you.”
Caleb’s hand shook on his hammer. “I knew she wasn’t coming back. I mean, Eda and Lilith existing made that painfully clear. I guess I just hoped… But Lake’s right, aren’t they? It’s not her room anymore. The room’s gone, she’s gone…”
“It’s not wrong to want a reminder,” Phoenix said quietly, “You don’t have to forget her.”
“I don’t think I ever could.”
“You don’t have to decide now,” Sam chimed in, “You can leave the room empty for now. Leave it for last. Besides, you should probably talk to Mom before making a decision.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Caleb gave the three of them a wan smile. “Thank you.”
“Except Lake for bringing it up,” Sam added.
“No. Lake, too.” Caleb took a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”
He turned back to the table, but the hammering seemed less desperate now. Phoenix swung out at the obvious dismissal, followed closely by Lake.
“Nice handling,” Lake told him, “Next time, I’m leaving the hard discussions to you.”
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough difficult discussions recently, and I don’t need one more.”
Lake gave him a lopsided grin. “Loosen up, remember? Makes the hard stuff easier.”
They disappeared back up the stairs, leaving nothing behind but the echo of their footsteps.
Enjoy the spoils.
Phoenix took a deep breath, looking around the new house with a small smile. They still had plenty to worry about—making this place home, what to do about Achsah’s room, Matt’s upcoming plans—but for now… maybe Lake was right. Maybe it was time to let go.
Days blurred into weeks of painting and building, moving one room at a time. Kitchen and dining room first, so that they’d have somewhere to cook and eat. Caleb set chairs and tables he’d built in the dining room, beaming with pride. Then came the bathrooms, and the common rooms, and finally, Evelyn declared that they’d picked over the ruins enough, and they wouldn’t find anything else, so they might as well start on their rooms. Phoenix still made the commute back to Bonesborough every weekend to see Darius and catch up on the Isles-wide reconstruction efforts.
Phoenix stared at the blank canvas of his wall. While Jason lined his room with books, and Mole lovingly set potted plants, Phoenix sat on his bed, wishing he could do something besides paint. Even before the house had been destroyed, he hadn’t been there long enough to make the room his own—and the time he did get was so hectic, he wasn’t even sure he’d had anything in the house to salvage.
“Going for the minimalistic approach, are we?” Darius asked from the door.
“Darius!” Phoenix jumped up from the bed. The cast had been cut off yesterday, but his ankle was so weak it almost folded underneath him immediately. “Hey—what are you doing here?”
“Getting all the stuff out of my living room. And having a top secret meeting with Matt about his party. You know, I’m not entirely certain he’s separated the idea of a party from coven work.”
“That sounds right.” Phoenix waved a hand at the walls. “What do you think? Bright purple for the walls?”
“Don’t you dare.” Darius looked around the room. “I know just about everything of yours was confiscated when you… disappeared… so I thought… ah, just take it.”
He handed Phoenix a photograph in a simple wooden frame, a photo of he and Darius during the mentorship. Phoenix gently brushed one hand over his photographed face. He’d gotten so used to the scars from Belos’ attack that seeing this photograph without them now felt strange and foreign. His face looked so… young. But even with the great grin plastered across his face in the photo while he headlocked Darius, a tired sadness seemed etched in his face.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, “I don’t remember this being taken—where did you find it?”
“My memories,” Darius replied casually, “I had a copy made.” He sighed. “I know things weren’t rosy perfect back then. I know so much happened to you that I never saw. And I know—or at least I hope—we’re headed towards a better chapter of our life now. But don’t forget the last chapter, eh?”
Phoenix set the photograph up on the dresser, sweeping elixir bottles to the side. “Never. And—Darius? Thank you. For the photo. For letting us stay with you. For… everything.”
“Anytime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a top secret party meeting I must attend. I believe we are discussing snacks.”
Xxx
“I see someone—wait, no, that’s just someone’s abomination that’s gotten loose.” Jason all-but had his face pressed against the glass of the front window, watching out for incoming guests. “They’ll come, right? I mean, of course our friends will show, but given that half the point is to get the townspeople used to the look-alike family that wandered out of the woods, we really need some people we don’t know.”
“I’m sure they will,” Phoenix assured him, but he watched equally carefully.
“Oh!” Jason yanked back from the window, opening the door and sprinting down the careful garden path, currently devoid of an actual garden. “Willow! Gus! Amity! Luz!” He bowed to Willow with a flourish. “Lord of Bats.”
She returned his over-the-top bow with one of her own. “House of Crows. How lovely to see you again.”
“It’s been three days,” Amity reminded them.
They both laughed, and Jason led the kids towards the door.
“Eda and Lilith are on their way with King,” Luz told Phoenix, “They’ll be here soon. I might take King home at some point, though. Don’t want him up too late and all.”
A loud gasp sounded from the path, and a witch from town clutched her chest. “I—I just thought I was meeting the new neighbors,” she stammered, “I didn’t know that Luz the human would be here—and did you say the owl lady was coming?”
“Yesssss?” Luz said uncertainly, as if unsure whether this information would scare the witch off or not.
“Oh. Oh, my. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
She dashed off back towards town, and Luz winced. “I think your guest list might have just gotten a bit bigger.”
That didn’t bode well. They’d kept the invitations small on purpose—not that anyone but Matt and Darius really knew who was coming, but still, Phoenix thought some of the others might notice if too many people showed up.
Eda, Lilith, and King arrived in a rush of feathers and a bag of elixirs pushed into Phoenix’s arms. He answered Lilith’s seemingly endless questions on their effects, wondering vaguely if anyone had warned Caleb and Evelyn they were coming, but mostly focused on the steady trickle of strangers now coming towards the house.
Caleb and Evelyn wandered into the living room, stopping dead when they spotted Lilith and Eda. Phoenix winced. Caleb didn’t look much like his descendants, but their resemblance to Evelyn was impossible to deny. He could practically see the wheels ticking in Eda’s head. But before she could say anything, the other guests reached the house and she was swept away in a tide of questions and admirations. Luz looked similarly swamped.
“Well, this wasn’t in the plans.” Matt stood on the stairs, chewing thoughtfully on a pen. “I should have guessed something would go wrong. I need to warn Silver.”
The mobs around Eda and Luz split into a third group, buzzing around Darius the moment he walked through the door. He arched one eyebrow at Matt, who winced and shrugged.
“Well, we’re getting a reputation for being well-connected,” Locke said at Phoenix’s elbow, “Fantastic, I’m sure this will hold no negative consequences.” He grinned. “We should invite celebrities over more often.”
Babble surrounded Phoenix as people slowly got over their star-struck awe and spread out. They stuck in small packs, townsfolk interacting with their neighbors, and grimwalkers talking to other grimwalkers. Both groups eyed each other uneasily, skirting around each other and only occasionally exchanging brief hellos and ‘excuse me’s.
“Ah, yes,” Locke deadpanned, “I can feel the house warming up already.” He stuck his nose into the air, shaking his head back and forth. “Can you feel that, Lake?”
As if summoned, Lake seemed to materialize at Phoenix’s other side. “No, Locke, what is it?”
“The tension! It’s so thick it’s starting to physically manife—”
Thump.
Muffled murmurs. Evelyn’s immediate sprint, pushing through guests and grimwalkers alike. “Give him space,” she ordered.
“Steven,” Jason breathed, “He’s having a seizure—we need to move everyone away, there’s not enough space.”
More murmurs and exclamations. Across the room, Silver’s face was as white as a sheet, and they beelined for the nearest window, opening it and oh-so-casually leaning against the sill, prepared to leap out, if Phoenix had to guess.
This is bad.
It didn’t take Darius, party expert extraordinaire, to know that. People flocked naturally to a disaster—they’d crowd Steven, stress Silver, and probably panic themselves, which would only—
“Well, I think it’s time to move this party outside!” Locke hopped up on the stairs, raising their voice, “Do we have any plant witches in attendance tonight?”
Willow raised her hand, and a few others tentatively joined her.
“Who feels like a seed race?”
“What’s that?” someone called.
“Only the best way for a plant witch to show off their magical prowess! Winner gets to take home a rare human realm plant known as ‘mint,’ proven to thrive even in the Isles!”
A few ‘ooo’s rose up, and witches started to wander outdoors. Cherry had quickly assembled a circle of grimwalkers around Steven and Evelyn, blocking them from view while guests went outside.
Willow hung back, raising one eyebrow at Locke. “A seed race, huh? How come I’ve never heard of that before?”
“Because I made it up just now. Mole, you’ve got some seeds, right? Where did you want some of the plants in the garden to go? I’ll make it look natural.”
Caleb slumped against the banister. “Thank you, Locke.” Behind him, Steven slowly sat up, watched by Evelyn like a hawk.
“Hey, it’s what I do. Be a loud and annoying distraction. Just ask Sam!” Locke grinned, bouncing out the door. “Alright, three categories: speed, size, and healthiness! Line up!”
Caleb sighed, joining Evelyn and Steven.
Eda nudged Phoenix. “Hey, introduce me to your planner. We’ve been scheming up a quinceañera party for Luz, and so far, this party’s been a riot.”
“Wish it was less of one.”
She grinned and held out an elixir. “Bottoms up, kid.”
Phoenix glanced down. He hadn’t even noticed his arms had started to drip. Great. Another thing for the townsfolk to take home as a story. He gulped the elixir with a grimace. “Does the taste ever get better?”
“If anything, it gets worse. Ah, well, necessary evils and all that. Not to suddenly change the subject or anything, but do you mind explaining her?” Eda waved an accusing hand towards Evelyn.
“I think you’d better ask her. And Caleb.”
“Yeah, I kind of thought that would be your answer. Well, can’t blame me for trying the easy route.” Eda grabbed Lilith’s arm. “C’mon.”
“What? Where are we going?”
“Answer-hunting.”
Before they could approach Evelyn, Sam thumped down the stairs, puzzle box tucked under his arm. “Oh, is the party over already? Excellent, I didn’t actually want to go.”
Lilith gasped. “Ooo!” She pulled herself from Eda’s grip, reaching for the box. “May I? I love a good puzzle.”
“Be my guest.”
“Aaaaand I’ve lost her,” Eda muttered under her breath, “Right, just me then.” She squared her shoulders, and marched towards Caleb and Evelyn. Steven waved the two of them off with a tired smile, and the two nervously gestured towards Achsah’s room, still untouched.
“They are definitely going to botch the explanation,” Sam said cheerfully, “They always do.”
“Yeah…” Phoenix looked back at Steven to check if he was still upright. He was with Darius now, and the two of them spoke in low voices, occasionally glancing down at Steven’s burned-off sigil. Cherry stood only a few feet away, looking like he was desperately trying not to listen in and at the same time, straining to hear what was being said.
“You’re my WHAT?!” Eda’s voice squawked from Achsah’s room.
“Got it!” Lilith said triumphantly at the same time, “You were so close. I barely had to do anything.” She looked up. “What happened to Eda?”
Phoenix hurried to Achsah’s room, Darius and Steven forgotten. Eda jabbed a finger at him the moment he entered.
“You are not allowed to be my great uncle,” she told him, “Not allowed, do you hear me?”
“Sorry. I’ll try not to be.”
Lilith came in on Phoenix’s heels. “What’s going on?”
“They’re our ancestors, Lili. Our ancestors.”
“Oh,” Lilith said thoughtfully, “That makes sense. Fascinating.” She held out the box. “This is for you two, by the way. Someone called Achsah went great lengths to make sure it reached you through time.”
Caleb all-but snatched the opened box from her, his face pale. “Achsah?!”
Evelyn delicately lifted out a letter. Phoenix caught sight of a bracelet inside, hand-woven leather and beads. Evelyn scanned the letter, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Get Mole, please,” she whispered, and Sam was off. Mole arrived moments later, and Evelyn held up the letter. “Caleb, would you…?”
Caleb took the paper from her, his eyes devouring it like a starving man. “Dear Mom and Dad,” he read out loud, “I’ve buried this letter in a puzzle box under where the kitchen will be someday. I hope you finally get to work on that root cellar you always wanted, or else you won’t find it. Dad—” he choked up, and Evelyn took the letter.
“Dad, I know exactly what you’ve probably been doing since the moment the time pool washed away, and I want you to stop it. What happened wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s. For a while, I was sad, and lost, and wanted nothing more than for you to pop out of another pool and bring me back home.” Evelyn took a deep breath. “But since then, I’ve met some beautiful people, including my partner.”
Caleb took the letter back. “You two would love them, just as much as I love them. I wish the three of you could meet. While I write this, your grandkid is tearing through the house like a tiny terror. He’s got your nose, Dad, and Mom’s eyes. And the healer tells me I’ve got twins coming—isn’t that crazy? I’d do anything to protect them, and I know if you could have come back for me, you would have. But I want you to know that I’m happy here and now. I miss you every day, but I don’t regret the people I’ve met since. Please don’t be sad I’m gone.”
Caleb smiled at Mole. “This next part is for you. Say hi to your lookalike for me, Dad. If he’s anything like you, the ‘don’t blame yourself’ bit goes for him, too. I don’t regret rescuing him. I only wish I’d gotten to know him. Bet he’s awesome. I made a bracelet for him. I know he was passed out, so he probably didn’t see me at all, but it’s just something to remember me by. His younger/older sister.”
Mole sniffed, delicately lifting the bracelet out of the box and slipping it onto his wrist.
“I know we were hiding. I didn’t realize it first, but now that I’ve spent my life here trying to pretend I’ve always lived in this time, I can see it’s the same. Mom. Dad. I don’t want you to keep hiding. Whatever happens, get out there. Show the world who you are. All the love in both dimensions, Achsah.”
Caleb folded up the letter, and they all stood there for a long moment, no one saying anything. Finally, Evelyn took Caleb’s hand. “No more hiding,” she said softly.
“No more hiding,” Caleb echoed, “No more grieving.”
“Are you ready to show the world who we are?”
“If you are.”
Evelyn smiled, and together, she and Caleb walked out to meet the Isles.
Xxx
“Latissa.” Evelyn said the word carefully, like it might shatter in her mouth. “That’s an interesting choice. Any reason?”
Steven rubbed his arm where his sigil used to be. “Darius mentioned something—I know it’s gone, but…”
“The sigil experiments,” Phoenix breathed. That had to be what Darius and Steven had been talking about at the housewarming party. He touched his own mark. The Day of Unity was over, and with it, the danger of the draining spell. The sigils didn’t affect him, but countless witches couldn’t access all their magic—Alador led the way in sigil removal research, and Darius was right there with him.
Steven nodded. “The sigil experiments. I don’t think mine is the same as the modern sigils, since it almost killed me instantly, but Darius said getting a look at the earlier attempts might help them understand the ones we have now.”
“But you said it: you don’t have yours anymore,” Evelyn replied, “How are they going to study it?”
“Questions. Anecdotes. And… the seizures. Darius thinks they’re related.”
“We knew that.”
“Well, yes, but this might be—I mean, if what I know can help them, and if their research can stop the seizures entirely… even if they can’t, I want to help.” Steven shook his head. “I used that glove on other people, even knowing what it would do to them. I can’t change that, but… maybe I can make up for it by helping witches suffering from those sigils now.”
Evelyn chewed on her lip. “Latissa is a bit of a commute without a palisman,” she said finally, “What’s your plan?”
“I’d be staying there.” Steven shrugged, as if trying to make it seem like nothing. “There’s space—they converted the old police station into their center. I’m sure we can fit a bed.”
“I see. Do you—do you know how long you’d be there?” Evelyn’s voice held a sort of desperate casualness to it, like she was trying not to scare Steven off, but also didn’t quite want to let him go.
“Not forever.” Steven’s voice matched Evelyn’s, somehow both intensely normal and strained at the same time. “I’ll be back. Um. I mean, how long could it take, really?”
“How much is Alador like Sam?” Evelyn joked. She rubbed her arm. “Will you be okay? I should go with you.”
“What? Mom, they need you here.”
“But the seizures—if one happens—will Alador know what to do?”
“I’ll tell him,” Steven promised, “And I’m almost certain healers will be involved—I’ll be in the best possible place if something does go wrong. Besides home.”
“Hm.”
Steven took her hands. “Mom, I’ll be safe. I promise. This could be… it could be huge for me.”
“It could be.” Evelyn sighed, wrapping him in a hug. “Oh, I knew you all would grow up. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
Phoenix thought uneasily of Matt and Alex. Neither of them had announced their plans to leave yet, but maybe Evelyn suspected. Or maybe with Jason always off with the kids, and Auric always off at his new apprenticeship, and Phoenix gone every weekend, she just felt… lonely.
“I won’t be gone for long. Promise.”
Xxx
“Where was that you said? The wreckage of the keep? Again?” Darius pinched his nose, nodding along to the conversation on the other end of the raven phone. “I know—yes. No, we’ll look into it. I said we’ll look into it! Yes, lovely day to you too, goodbye.”
Phoenix winced, setting his weekend bag on the floor with a thump. “Bad time?”
Darius tossed the phone to the side, letting it fly to its perch. “It’s fine. Just Terra rearing her head again. Most of the scouts and coven heads settled in peacefully enough, but every couple of months…”
Phoenix shuddered. He doubted she’d come after him specifically, but part of him was tempted to start checking his drinks for poison. “Is it safe to leave her on the loose?”
“Unlikely. If anyone’s going to cause havoc, it’s going to be her. But the…” Darius heaved a sigh. “…CATs… are spread too thin. Between guarding the new palistrom tree, rebuilding what Belos and the Collector destroyed, and keeping the peace between disoriented and disillusioned citizens, we haven’t had a lot of time or manpower to spare towards tracking her down. And I don’t want to assign someone inexperienced to the job—we need someone who’s used to handling threats. Big ones. People who can corner her, and…” he tilted his head. “You have a thinking face on. You know someone, don’t you? One of your siblings?”
“Yes,” Phoenix said slowly, “Or—at least, I think so. Let me see that phone again?”
One short phone call and a griffin-flight later, Meleager, Horus, Hamlet, and Venari sat in Darius’ living room, studying pictures of Terra with matching frowns.
“Plant magic…” Meleager mused, “Fire and ice, then. I think I still have some leftover frost potions.”
“We need to get her off the ground,” Venari added, “The further she is from seeds and dirt, the harder it’ll be for her to get away.”
Hamlet scratched his head. “Coven head, though, so it’ll be tricky to separate her entirely—any capture method like nets or rope can’t be made of plant fibers, because she might be able to manipulate those.”
“Once we get her hands and feet immobilized, that won’t be as big of an issue,” Horus declared, “Focus on the capture—containment after should be comparatively easy.”
“Sounds like they’ve got this under control,” Darius murmured to Phoenix.
“They’ve been bored,” Phoenix replied equally quietly, “Oh, just—make sure you prioritize capturing Terra alive.”
Darius chuckled, then glanced at Phoenix and stopped abruptly. “Oh, you’re not kidding. They’ll—”
“Without hesitation.”
“Huh. Well, would it really be that much of a loss? Kidding,” he added quickly, “I’ll be sure to tell them.”
Phoenix shrugged. “I’ve got no love lost for Terra. But I don’t want them killing anyone, for sure. I don’t think that’s a path anyone wants them taking.”
“Hey.” Darius gave Phoenix a small smile. “Give them a little trust. They met Petro—I don’t think they’re in any hurry to go down the killing spree path.”
“Hm. I hope you’re right. They still might engage in some light torture, though.”
Darius squeezed his eyes shut. “Why do I feel like you handed me a bigger problem than the one you’ve solved?”
“They’ll be fine. Just…”
“Reiterate the capturing her alive part, yes, understood.”
“We’re going,” Venari declared, “We’ll see you in… what, 3 days at the worst?”
“We’re staking out the keep. We might come back to steal Dagger,” Meleager explained, “We got this, Phoenix, she’ll never poison anyone again.”
“Alive,” Darius warned, “Capture her alive!”
Horus gave him a thumbs-up, and the four of them disappeared out the door. Darius watched them go, the worry on his face shifting to a pensive, planning expression. “You know, if this goes well, I might have a few other hunts for them. Terra’s not the only one who’s clinging to her old power.”
Phoenix grinned. “I’m sure they’d like that very much.”
Xxx
“Oop—watch the root—”
Phoenix caught Mole’s arm at Jason’s warning, keeping him upright when he stumbled. “Maybe we should take off the blindfold?” he suggested, “The footing’s getting a little treacherous.”
“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise!” Jason protested, “Maybe you could carry him?”
Mole’s nose scrunched up at the suggestion, and Phoenix shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t think he wants that.”
“Well, we’re almost there anyway. Come on.”
Phoenix didn’t pick Mole up, but he held his arm out for Mole to cling to and guided him slowly over the forest floor. Mole gave him a brief grateful smile, jabbing one finger at the blindfold and heaving a fond sigh.
“He’s a bit excited,” Phoenix agreed, “He’s been taking trips out here with Hunter and Willow an awful lot, but they’ve been tight-lipped about it to me, too.”
“Okay, Phoenix, now you have to close your eyes, too!”
“I thought this was a surprise for Mole?” Phoenix protested.
“It is,” Hunter agreed, appearing at Phoenix’s elbow with Flapjack in his staff form, “But it’s a surprise for everyone. Don’t worry, I’ve got you two.”
Phoenix closed his eyes. Hunter’s hand closed over his arm, and he heard the tell-tale sound of a flash-step, his balance just ever-so-slightly thrown off at the sudden change in placement.
“Okay, open them,” Jason ordered.
Phoenix opened his eyes, and beside him, Mole took off the blindfold.
A massive blue tree towered over them, blooming with blue leaves and flowers. Phoenix had never seen a tree like this, but something about it seemed… familiar. His skin crawled with that feeling of just knowing something, deep inside, like how his curse recognized Belos, but more positive.
“Is that… palistrom?” he asked.
Mole stepped forward as if in a trance, putting one hand on the massive blue trunk. He nodded in answer to Phoenix’s question, pressing his forehead to the bark like it was an old friend. Silent tears streamed down his face, and Phoenix remembered just how long ago Mole had technically been born. He must have been used to seeing palistrom forests peppering the Isles, and had woken up suddenly in a world without them.
“The palisman this tree could make,” Phoenix murmured, “It grew so big so fast!”
“Willow had a lot to do with that part,” Hunter explained, “But, well, there’s a reason there was a shortage for so long.”
“Palistrom were kept strictly monitored by Belos,” Phoenix remembered, “You think he kept them small on purpose? Of course he did,” he answered his own question, “Why wouldn’t he? The more magic stifled, the better.”
Hunter fidgeted, twisting his hands around each other. Jason nudged him. “Go on,” he whispered, “Tell them.”
“Tell us what?”
“I’m going to be a palisman carver,” Hunter burst out, “Caleb’s taught me some, and I’ve been talking to Eda’s dad, Dell—he was a professional carver, you know—and he’s going to take me on as an apprentice.” He looked up at the tree, eyes shining. “With the way this tree’s been growing and flowering, we should be able to repopulate the Isles with palistrom in no time. Luckily, the palistrom is a self-pollinating plant. And even just a solid branch from this tree—anyone can have a palisman. Everyone can.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly. “I was thinking… I was thinking I could carve one for Caleb first. Since… you know. He carved my palisman.”
Phoenix smiled warmly. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“And… I could carve one for everyone in the family. Or you could adopt!” he added quickly, “The Bat Queen has dozens of palisman looking for a home. But yes. I could carve one. Hypothetically. No promises yet, I’m still learning, but—oh, okay, you hate the idea.”
“What?” Phoenix reached up to find tears running from his eyes. “No—no, Hunter, I don’t hate the idea, I…” he searched for the right words to describe how he felt. A palisman? For him? He’d never even considered it, not with the life he’d lived. The curse curled up inside him rumbled at the idea, but he couldn’t tell if it was the remnants of Belos protesting, the palisman eager for a palisman of their own outside of him, or something hungrier. “Is that a good idea?” he said finally, “I mean, with…” he gestured to his arms.
“Do you want one?” Jason asked.
“Yes.” The word slipped out of Phoenix’s mouth almost without a thought. He hadn’t realized he wanted one until now, but he knew it deep inside, watching Flapjack and Hunter. “I do.”
“Then we’ll find a way to make it work,” Jason said firmly, “Whatever that means.”
Mole nodded joining them. He pointed to himself, tilting his head in a question.
“Yeah, of course I can make one for you,” Hunter interpreted, “Any idea what you’d want? We can always go the egg route if not. Sounds pretty easy to carve, too.”
A mischievous grin crept over Mole’s face, and he pointed to himself again. Hunter frowned.
“I don’t know what you’re asking—sorry, we’ll figure it ou—”
Jason groaned. “Oh, no. You want a mole for a palisman, don’t you?”
Mole nodded vigorously, breaking off into peals of laughter. Phoenix groaned with Jason, but Mole’s laughter was infectious, and a smile took over his face despite himself.
Palisman for us. It didn’t seem right—not after all the palisman he’d handed over to Belos. Maybe Mole or Jason deserved one—after all, Belos had tried to kill Jason for protecting the little creatures. Phoenix? He’d never even considered another option besides giving them to their doom.
But Flapjack sat scarred and proud on Hunter’s shoulder despite everything, like a beacon saying it’s possible; you just have to want it enough, and the tree loomed over them, big, and beautiful, and strong despite what Belos had tried to do to its species, and right here, in this forest, Phoenix did want it.
We’ll find a way to make it work.
Xxx
Phoenix climbed out an attic hatch onto the roof—another holdover from the old house’s design. He didn’t quite join Cherry where he sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over, but he sat down close.
“I thought this was Jason’s brooding spot. Enjoying the view?”
Cherry glanced back at him. “It’s quieter than I thought it would be.”
“Hm?”
Cherry waved a hand at the town sprawling in the near distance. “I thought it would be noisy, living so much closer to other people. But in the evening, if I close my eyes, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. It’s like we’re still back in the forest, and we’re all together. No one’s left and gone where I can’t protect them. And then I open my eyes, and… it’s all so different now.”
“It’s not a bad thing. They’ll be okay.”
“Mm.” Cherry stared out over the town again, his hair almost red in the light of the setting sun. “You ever think it was strange, how close to Belos we were hiding? I mean, the third rib? We might as well have been on his doorstep. But we weren’t discovered. Somehow, we were never discovered. Somehow, Mom and Dad managed to save every one of us, no matter how badly we were injured. Isn’t that odd? We didn’t lose a single person.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Belos always said loss was so necessary, and I believed him. I saw it firsthand, how sometimes people had to be sacrificed. We were some of those people. But somehow, no one died. None of us—despite how many people we killed, not one of us went down. Why did we get to survive when so many people didn’t?” He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. “Doesn’t that seem so improbable, when you think about it? Belos might have been lying about the titan having plans for us, but sometimes it almost does feel like there’s some higher power out there who’s decided to keep us alive.”
“Or one determined human and witch.” Phoenix scooted closer to Cherry, eying the edge of the roof. “It does seem improbable,” he admitted, “People died—and we were responsible some of the time. But we all made it. Against the odds. I think this family is good at that.”
Cherry heaved a sigh. “But what’s the point, if we’re not going to stick together? What’s the point, if after everything, everyone goes their separate ways? We got so far, only to fall apart at the end.”
“We’re not falling apart.” Phoenix looked up at the moon and stars slowly replacing the sun as the brightest things in the sky. “You know… I used to see Darius every day. I’d take him with me on missions. I’d test his skills, but I was always there to protect him if something happened. But when I first woke up with Caleb and Evelyn… he’d grown. He was a capable adult who could handle himself. And that was a hard thing to accept. If he didn’t need me to protect him, if he didn’t need a mentor, then what use was I to him?”
Phoenix smiled. “But we haven’t fallen apart yet. Maybe he doesn’t need a mentor anymore. Maybe he doesn’t need my protection. But I think he still needs me. Just me, because I’m me and that’s enough of a reason.” Phoenix nudged Cherry’s shoulder. “It’s not going to be the same. They’re not going to be as close. They won’t always need your protection anymore. And that’s going to be difficult to get used to. But I don’t think they’ll ever stop needing you.”
Cherry watched the sun finally disappear completely over the horizon, silent until it was gone. “I don’t want our lives to change,” he said finally, “I think I’m glad for the others finding what they want, but I’m not sure who I am without them. I’ve been looking after them for so long, trying to forget the past for so long… I don’t want to be left alone with myself.”
“Hm.” Phoenix leaned back, finally kicking his legs over the edge of the roof and sitting fully next to Cherry. “Well. I can tell you some good news about that.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. Even if they all leave, even if we all go our separate ways, you aren’t going to be alone, Cherry. We will always have your back. We’ll only be one raven call away.”
A smile flashed across Cherry’s face. “You’re going to have to teach me how to use one.”
“Oh. Right.”
“But… thanks, Phoenix. For having my back.”
Xxx
Despite Phoenix’s late start, his room filled up over months of living. Mole commandeered his window space with new plants, human realm varieties that Camila shared. Light blue walls were quickly covered over with scribbles that Ghost had presented him, and photos Willow shared. She always seemed to be dropping by, picking up Hunter or Jason or both of them. Sometimes, even Mole went along to visit the palistrom tree. Little practice wood carvings that Hunter made with Caleb and Dell surrounded the photograph Darius had given to him. Hunter hadn’t carved any palisman for the family besides Mole’s mole, but one day, Jason came back from the human realm library with a massive book full of animal pictures that he and Phoenix pored over for hours, looking for a creature that felt right.
Jason tapped one foot. “We’re going to be late. Hunter and Willow are outside waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah, give me a second. We’ll have at least half an hour while Caleb and Flapjack catch up.” Phoenix drank an elixir. Today had been a good day for the curse, but he didn’t want to push it staying up late.
Jason wandered over to the window, peering into the garden. “He’s gotten taller than me,” he grumbled, “Traitor. I’ll be inconsolable if Ghost gets big like that. I cannot be the shortest in the family.”
Phoenix ruffled his hair, his arm braces clicking gently at the movement. “Aw, don’t you want to stay the baby forever? You don’t want to be Evelyn’s little snuggle buddy?”
“I will always be Mom’s little snuggle buddy, thank you very much, but that doesn’t mean I have to be the shortest. Ghost has to be shorter. They have to.”
“Do not.” Ghost wrinkled their nose at Jason from the doorway. “I’m gonna be so big. Gonna eat griffins. In one bite.”
“Don’t let Joseph hear you say that,” Phoenix joked, “He’ll disown you.”
Ghost squeaked, tugging on Phoenix’s arm. “Nee-Nee, it’s time to go,” they said impatiently, “I wanna see King.”
“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Phoenix followed Ghost downstairs. Hunter chattered excitedly to Caleb about the palisman he was working on, and Willow gave Jason their customary bow and exchange of royal titles.
“I can just walk, right?” Phoenix asked Hunter.
“Low and slow,” Hunter promised.
“You never actually mean that,” Phoenix grumbled, but he sat behind Hunter anyway, picking Ghost up and holding them tightly in his lap.
Hunter did fly too fast and too high for Phoenix’s taste, but Willow and Jason still beat them by a mile, so he supposed Hunter had been taking it easy on him.
Ghost squirmed out of Phoenix’s lap almost before they’d completely landed, bolting to tackle King in a hug. The titan fell in mock defeat.
“Curses! You’ve defeated the king of the demons this time, little Ghost!”
“She’s coming!” Eda called, “Everyone ready?”
Luz walked through the door, and the quinceañera passed by in a blur of well-wishes and laughter. Phoenix exchanged smiles and hellos with what seemed like everyone on the Isles.
“You thought any more about the mentoring offer? The university’s really taking off.”
Phoenix smiled tiredly in response to Eda. “I’d need a way to get there. Getting Ghost to Hexside is going to be tricky enough.”
“Man. Get a palisman already, would ya?”
Eda’s grin dispelled any bite to the words, but Phoenix’s attention hung fully on the portal door hanging wide open behind her. He glanced around to make sure Ghost was safe—they chased happily after Flapjack, who Phoenix was relatively certain was one of the more responsible people here—and quickly pushed through into the human realm before he could convince himself not to.
Creak.
Phoenix’s eyes darted over furniture that formed monsters and familiar specters in the dark. Wait a minute…
“Petro?” he called, just in case.
“No,” Jason’s voice called from the basement, “Just me.”
Phoenix creaked his way down the stairs to the basement, wincing at every sound. He sat on the bottom of the stairs next to Jason. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jason gestured out towards the mound where Phoenix knew Belos’ remains lay. “Do you ever wake up and just… forget for a minute that he’s gone?”
Phoenix rubbed his arms. A part of Belos would always live in him, in the curse—for him the problem was more remembering that he was gone at all. “Sometimes,” he admitted, “I’m guessing you do.”
Jason sighed. “I know it’s been years, but… sometimes it just doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I feel like he’s still coming for me. I mean, after all he’s survived, how can I even truly be sure he’s gone?” He rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really believe it.”
Phoenix chuckled dryly. “Can you imagine how furious he’d be if he was still alive?”
Jason cracked a smile at that. “A university of wild magic?” he joked, “He’s probably spinning in his grave fast enough to generate the electricity needed to power this whole neighborhood. Not to mention us.”
“Not to mention us,” Phoenix echoed, “He’d be devastated if he knew we were happy.”
“Guess we better keep being happy, then. Just to spite him.” Jason’s smile faded, and he went back to looking over Belos’ grave.
Phoenix nudged his shoulder. “Hey,” he said quietly, “He’s dead. For real this time. He’s not coming back. But when it feels like he might, when it feels like he’s going to jump out of nowhere and sink his claws into you… you know where to find me. Or Cherry. Or Caleb, or Evelyn, or Mole, or anyone else. You’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah. I think I am.”
Jason got up, stretching and offering his hand to Phoenix. “Let’s get out of here.”
Phoenix happily obeyed, following Jason back into light and laughter. Ghost wandered over, their eyelids drooping. Flapjack chirped an admonishment, tugging affectionately on their hair.
“Hey, Ghost,” Phoenix said quietly, crouching down next to them, “You all tired out?”
They rubbed their eyes. “I’m not sleepy,” they said stubbornly, in spite of their giant yawn, “I just… want to go to bed and rest my eyes.”
“Fair enough.” Phoenix scooped Ghost up, holding them as easily as if they were still a toddler. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
#YAY WE FINISHED IT IN TIME FOR GILDED'S BIRTHDAY!!!! BARELY BUT WE DID IT!!!#toh#the owl house#gilded family au#toh fanfiction#my writing#caleb wittebane#golden guard oc#evelyn clawthorne#willow park#hunter wittebane
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What if Y/N had the powers and Homelander didn’t?
Y/N was the leader of the seven, she was the most powerful member and the world’s favorite one as well.
She had a husband named John Gillman who was just an ordinary everyday guy.
They had a son together named Ryan who they loved very much.
John would attend all the parties and red carpet events with his wife.
“She is such a strong and powerful, amazing, lovely wife and I’m so proud of her success and to see her saving the world.”
John was like a housewife. He kept the kitchen and house clean and he always made her dinner.
On stressful days after shooting a Vought movie or saving someone, John always ran a bath for her or gave her a massage.
Y/N loved her job but it was sometimes exhausting. John was always there to help her relax.
Y/N loved the seven and the members well…except for Stormfront. Stormfront took a liking to John when she first met him and Y/N knew right away. John was oblivious and just thought she was being nice but Y/N saw right through that Nazi bitch.
Stormfront wanted John and tried to get him to leave Y/N. She would constantly show off her body to him and try to tempt him but it always failed.
“I’m sure she’s just being nice.” “No babe, she wants to fuck you.”
When all the stuff about her being a Nazi came out Y/N wasn’t shocked. She was happy that the bitch got exposed.
“I always knew she was a bad person. I mean after she tried to fuck you? Yeah it was pretty obvious.”
Y/N tried to keep John away from her work as much as possible. But it was hard when he brought her lunch every day and kissed her cheek before he left.
Starlight was in awe of the relationship and wished that it could be her and Hughie some day.
When Billy found out you had a husband he managed to kidnap him to lure you to him.
“Why the fuck did you kidnap my husband?” “Knew that you would come looking so listen luv, We need your help.”
Taking down Vought was a good but terrible idea. Y/N wanted to laugh in Billy’s face but she had the power to do so when the time was right.
“So he only kidnapped me so you would help him take down Vought?” “I guess so.”
John supported you on the decision to help, especially after hearing that you weren’t born a supe but Vought made you one.
It was hard for you to hear that your parents betrayed you like that but John was there for you and helped you through it.
Soldier Boy constantly flirted with you. He didn’t care that you were married.
“So he’s a puny human.” “Well I love him.”
John was annoyed that Soldier Boy flirted with you but the man was a supe so what could he do?
That was until Billy got his hands on Compound V and took it.
Y/N was hurt that Billy took it but more hurt that he convinced her husband to take it.
“Why would you inject that into your body?” “I wanted to beat Soldier Boy, he can’t have you.”
Truth be told you did find it hot seeing him with powers. But it had to be a one time thing!
“It was a one time thing, right?” “Yes but you have to admit it was pretty fun.”
Y/N and John were the dream couple and that wouldn’t change
#the boys#the boys imagine#the boys amazon#homelander#homelander x reader#homelander imagine#homelander x you#antony starr#billy butcher#soldier boy
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idk but saying tyler being a manipulative serial killer means he can’t be with wednesday is genuinely so funny to me like baby this is the addams family we’re talking about. being a manipulative serial killer should put him at the top of the viable choices for wednesday list.
#she literally calls him her type so idk where y’all are getting the whole ‘she never liked him’ thing from 💀#‘he’s too toxic for her’ she once said having attempted murder on her record would be terrible bc everyone would know she failed to get the#job done. like what do you MEAN. toxicity is like the one thing her family adores#you don’t have to ship them all i’m saying is ‘he’s toxic :(‘ is a terrible reason when we’re talking abt fuckin wednesday addams#babygirl has done terrible things like. this is the one family that values toxic serial killing people wym 😭#if you’re looking for happy fluffy healthy pure relationships this is not the family for you#not looking to argue so if u do i’m just gonna ignore it#wednesday addams#tyler galpin#wednesday x tyler#weyler#wednesday#wednesday tag#guys please stop replying or rb with different reasons why they can’t date we’re not talking abt them
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Oh my goddd I just got the cutest homecoming proposal I could cry
#I lowkey (not actually very lowkey) have a crush on my date#we’ve been friends since we were toddlers and our families decided like two months ago that we’d be going together platonically#he’s been overall very unenthused about everything hoco so this was a veRY PLEASANT SURPRISE#I look terrible in the videos & pictures & such him mom took because I was fresh out of uniform after a football game#but the happiness on my face is so real#we talked like all night and he even gave me a hug so I’m hoping he might actually like me back??#russ speaks#homecoming#high school
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kinda wild how you can have almost every aspect of your life deeply intertwined with someone else for years and then have all of that thrown in your face when that person decides none of it meant anything and, in fact, was toxic and purge-worthy
#hahahaha it’s been a bad day#and I am spiraling and all around not having a good time#I keep looking at the bulletin board in my room that used to make me so happy to look at because of all the good memories on it and the#reminder of there being people who care about me and now it just sorta. does the opposite#most of it just makes me feel. dread.#he’s in almost every picture and 80% of the people in the pictures in general I don’t talk to anymore for one reason or another#mostly people who just drifted away because I’m absolutely terrible at staying in touch with people#like not in a quirky way. like actually actively ruins relationships for no reason level bas#but some of them are people who purposefully don’t talk to me anymore#found out recently about one of these people. it’s someone I’d been friends with for like 15 years. purposefully blocked me#I believe because of whatever bullshit my ex has told her. she never asked me about anything so whatever she knows is#heavily biased and probably warped#because I don’t have anyone advocating for me. lol#even my close friends- the extremely few I have- are ‘neutral’ on it. which. im gonna be honest hurts me quite a bit. I have no one who#truly condemns him for the way he’s handled (lack thereof) all this and bolstered all my trust issues in the process and has made me#constantly critical of my own intentions because I can never trust that what I do or say is manipulative or ‘unhealthy’ anymore and I don’t#think I’m an all around good person on top of that because of my low empathy and all that and etc etc etc. it’s really fucked me up#but yeah anyway. yeah. they’re still on good terms with him more or less (though not as close as I am but that’s partly just due to me being#physically close rather than in another city). and it honestly hurts me that they could actively be centrists here#like I. just. really don’t trust anyone anymore. how the fuck could I#uh. anyway. im not sure if i want to take the board down all together or just take off almost all the photos on it#not sure what’s more depressing#cause they’re both pretty bad lol. almost all my major good memories from the past five years have included my ex so they’re basically all#tainted and unpleasant to look back on now. really just wasted five years of my life for this#another reason I’m constantly contemplating my own intentions these days is because I have a lot of thoughts and urges that I’d never do but#that are. related to purposefully hurting others or myself physically or emotionally or both. like. every part of me wants to deck my ex in#the face but obviously I’d never do that. but even just the compulsion feels like a justification of his narrative/view of me as a person#like haha maybe I am a shitty toxic abusive manipulative bastard. maybe I do just deserve to be alone where I can’t hurt or think about#hurting anyone. it’d definitely be better all-around if I didn’t fucking exist. burden lifted. but you know.#not sure how im like this but also egotistical and self centered but alas here we are. anyway I’ll delete this soon sorry
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it’s my little brother’s birthday so I called him and we chatted for a very long time and made plans to play video games together and it made me very happy especially cause I know this last year has been very hard for him and it sounds like he’s doing better and !!! i’m just really happy for him and excited to try and virtually hang out with him more often!!!
#shhh sharkie#he wants to play Fallout together and when he upgrades his PC play BG3 together#he’s having a rough time being the only kid at home with our parents and dealing with his own mental health issues as well#and it sounds like he’s maybe got a job lined up that isn’t a service worker job and is actually in his field of interest#and would let him at least work in the city (idk if it would pay him enough to move out but he’d be where he wants to be)#he’s been through a lot and i’m glad especially that his birthday week/month has been this really positive turning point for him#i love him very much and i’ve been so sad that i’m so far away and baseline bad at communicating so i haven’t done a good job#of being his big brother. i’ve always looked out for him and he’s my buddy and that’s just gotten so much harder being several states away#i just want him to be happy#we all joke that the siblings Unionized when we were all stuck at home in 2020 but truly nothing has made me appreciate my siblings more#than being stuck inside the house with them and our parents for months with all of us at adult-ish age#yeah they’re all annoying sometimes but truly i love them very much#like when I found out that terrible thing a month or so back and i called my older sister about it cause i was so distraught#and we have the WORST relationship of the four of us like historically horrible fights do not get along#but I cried about it to her and literally told her ‘sometimes you just need your big sister’#and she was so understanding and kind and righteously angry for me#is this what growing up is? siblings are weird and wonderful. I love you but also i’m going to tackle you.
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starved | [miguel o'hara x reader]
❛ pairing | new papi!miguel x new mami!reader
❛ type | oneshot: explicit content
❛ summary | peter says he's sex-starved. he isn't. he's just... adjusting to less time with his wife.
❛ tags | breastfeeding miguel, lactation kink, slight pregnancy kink, touch starved, pissy miguel, spanish is not translated, mention of violence, some cursing, f!reader.
❛ sy’s notes | written as per poll request! thank you everyone who voted.
Miguel likes to work.
Or, he thinks he likes to work.
The fate of the multiverse and all that boring ass bullshit. Peter has heard it all, twice, thrice over. What he knows is what he sees. What he sees is an overworked man running through anomaly files, sending out orders, and not spending time where it really mattered.
“Is that who I think it is?” Peter’s annoying ass house slippers flapped over the ground by Miguel’s feet. Peter’s hands rubbed together, sparking little bursts of heat between his palms. “It is! Mireya!”
Mireya, the newest addition to his small family. She was nestled comfortably in the crook of one of Miguel’s muscular arms as if it were the safest place in the entire world, suckling on what was left of a bottle of breastmilk. Miguel turned to place the empty bottle down on his desk. Peter followed, peeping over Miguel’s arm at her. Despite Miguel’s reservations, her bright brown eyes bored Peter with interest. She cooed at him. “Can I hold her? Let me hold her, it’ll be great! Aw look, she has curls.”
“My daughter isn’t your doll.”
“Look how pretty, she’s just like her mami. All sunshine and dimples and--,” Peter reached forward, easing his scrawny hands under her plush little arms and picking her up. Miguel’s hands fell onto his hips, shifting weight from one foot to the other, glancing down at his feet expectantly. “You know, for a new dad, you’re grumpier than usual.”
“Peter.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he bobbed back and forth, spinning in a circle. She giggled the kind of laugh that was all sugar, making Peter grin even harder. “I mean, wasn’t Mireya your idea? Are you-- y’know?”
“Y’know?”
“Sex starved,” Peter whispered like it was a great, terrible secret. As if in this vast space of silence, someone might catch his words and convict him because of them. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes slid against one another, held for a second, then spread open in an annoyed flick. He fluttered his gloved fingers at Peter to hand Mireya over.
“I’m just saying if you need a night alo--”
“I don’t. I’m not sex-starved.”
He waved him off. His eyes fell on his daughter, boring back up at him with those beautiful eyes he had waited so long to see. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, lulling her back into her late-night slumber, cradled against his chest.
Sex starved, he said. What a shocking joke.
His room was no place for a child. It was perpetually dark, dimmed for his sensitive eyes. So, at the end of the day, Miguel had your room to return to. A real home, one with more than a ratty run-down chair and a lifetime of regrets. A home that he couldn't make alone. Miguel pressed past the bedroom door where he found you overcome by sleep. Just like Mireya in his arms.
He turned his gaze down to Mireya once more, her soft and squishy body a vision of peace. Tiny fists balled up over her belly as she slept in her soft velvet onesie. The whole world in his hands: the start of a happy little family. Only right now, it didn’t feel so happy. Those were the cycles, the push and pull of life.
Tonight would prove to be another silent night with his thoughts. His chest swelled with a rush of air, bunching up his shoulders as he moved to the adjoining room to set Mireya into her warm crib. Torn from his warmth, her palms stretched out, ready to wail. Miguel placed his hand along the wooden rail, his stomach flopping into throbbing anxiety in his stomach. She could wake you up.
"Shh," he set his finger in her tiny palm. Mireya’s small hands rested listlessly around her head. The wail never came.
“Mi vida,” your sleepy voice fell over his ears, a gentle caress. He longed to hear it from your lips again. “Is she already asleep?”
“Sí--” he glanced over his shoulder, catching just a sight of one of his favourite little slips. Dusty rose with delicate lace details. He studied the edge of the gown, flowing over your thick thighs as you walked. Shock.
“You look beautiful." You looked down at your soft belly, a mincing smile pulling at your lips. He knew you were nervous, the way your hands obscured your plush belly. Mesmerized, his finger fell away from Mireya's soft grip. Peter's words echoed in his mind, a deep annoyance. It made his skin crawl, this growing annoyance in the acknowledgment that he had no sex in weeks, months. He took a step forward.
“I hope she doesn’t sleep through the night. My breasts are full,” Your fingers skimmed the taut skin. The glint of your wedding band invited him forward as if… you should be his tonight. You were his wife-- and though he didn't expect you to give him relief, he missed you. Miguel dipped his head, stroking the sore muscles of his neck.
Are you, y'know, sex-starved?
“When does she ever..." he couldn't help from saying. He grazed his fingertips over the swollen skin of your breasts, glancing from the skin to your deep, shy eyes. His breath thinned, realizing that you were disengaging, too scared to look him in the eye.
“She does, Miggy,” you breathed. His jaw worked, annoyed. “Lately. You’d know if you came home at night.”
If it was lately, he had no knowledge of it. Every lab screen he pulled up, every status report from Lyla, and every silent night in the lab, obsessing over how his little girl was doing-- he missed it. He should be coming in more often, crossing the threshold of work to family life. His hand cupped the underside of your breast. You winced, embarrassment working on your face. You pushed his hand away, likely feeling exposed by his touch on your tender skin.
“Does it hurt?” He leaned down, mingling his smoky, musky scent with your delicate one. He leaned in to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss along your neck, the warm pulse of your skin against his plump lips.
“Miggy, you’ll wake her up.”
Your fingers laced in his before you pulled him out of the room with a click of the door. He settled his hand on the middle of the door, sliding his hand up your waist, the soft fabric crinkling over the movement. He glimpsed a look at your soft panties cupping your round ass. “Miggy, I… I can’t. I’m tired.”
Of course, you were tired-- He underestimated how much work you took on in her care. He willed the wisps of his desire to snuff out. The distant flicker of hope followed promptly after. Maybe, one day, you would want him again. It wasn't today.
“Ya veo,” he suppressed his frustrated growl, wrinkling his forehead. “Another time.”
It wasn't the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.
The anomaly whirled along a cobblestone street, exploding in a cloud of dust and stone. Its many black dipped hands flickered, dulling into little more than a negligible tremor of their limbs. Everyone else noticed the complacency that came with loss of consciousness. Miguel did not.
Miguel sauntered forward, dragged it by its muddy boots out from the crumbly remnants of the wall, and whirled it into another. It wasn't moving. It was done, tired, exhausted. He didn't care, his large hand encompassing its tendril hair and smashing it over the dusty floor. A violent crack, crack, crack of its head scratched his inert need to destroy something, anything, anyone. It fell from his hands with a slump. Miguel spat a bit of blood to the side, his cheek chewed raw under the tension of the moment.
“You need to take Peter up on that offer.”
Miguel stretched his neck one way. Then the other.
“We’ve been over this,” Miguel grumbled, hiking the pummeled body over his shoulder. It gushed blood, streaming into a diluted pink with the downpour of rain. A simple contusion, Miguel said. It was just a contusion. And a concussion. Maybe a gash or two. It would heal if the thing woke up. “I don’t need help.”
“You thrashed it, whatever it was,” Jess said pointedly. Miguel’s finger ran across his watch. The air was stale without an acknowledgment of Miguel’s churning temper, growing into a churning tempest by the passing minute. He stared long and hard through his mask. She drew out the silence as she waited for his response.
“It’s a contusion.”
The portal whirled to life before them in a slurry of vivid color, an unforgiving abyss. Jess slumped her bike with weight on one thigh, hand on her belly. The longer Miguel stared at her, so full and pregnant, the more he was reminded of you. He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no use-- he saw visages of you everywhere he looked.
“Doesn’t look like any head contusion I’ve seen,” Gwen slid into the portal. His lip curled, annoyed by the obvious objection to what he was saying. If they would let it go-- he could go on about his life, wait for this obsession with his sex life to abate. Wait for you to come back to him.
“You can’t keep taking out your—“
“I am not sex-starved!”
“Convincing.” Jess sped into the portal.
Miguel soothed the stress out of his forehead, opening and closing his palm, a current of energy coursing through his palms. They picked— and they picked— and they picked at him. At some point, he was bound to explode. He only hoped you wouldn't be in his way when it happened. He whipped the anomaly through the portal and followed after.
On the other side of the portal, there was Peter— again. Cooing with his hands on his daughter— again. His dark mask faded away, his suit wicking water off his frame. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he located you beside Jess and Gwen. You nudged its crumpled body with your shoe. He didn’t often feel ashamed of his actions. Usually, they were necessary. Something was wrong, your face pinched and curled in disgust. He felt the string of your disapproval pulling through his arms, a slight, incriminating tremor flickering through his finger. He willed it away.
“What did you do to this poor thing?” you turned to Jess, a click-click-click off your tongue. He’d hardly call it poor. “It’s overkill.”
“Girl, ask your husband,” Jess folded her arms, reclining on her bike.
“Mi Miggy?” you went to him. You leaned over, pecking his cheek with a terribly insulting kiss, tickling his jawline. He swallowed. Blinked. Then frowned and brushed off your fingers, finding the care misplaced. You could care for an anomaly but didn't care to ask him how he felt. What he needed. Your voice wilted that sunshine quality, dropping almost to a whisper. “¿Qué te pasa, Miggy?”
“Nothing.”
“Miguel--"
“I said nothing!” He knelt down, grasping its ankle and dragging it down the long, drab hall that stored a variety of anomalies. A line of blood soaked the floor, swerving after his rumbling steps. You took a step forward, snatching his wrist between your fingers. He whirled around, a tremble on his lips firmed out into an unforgiving glare. You let up the pressure on his wrist, allowing him to spin his hand free. “Déjame en paz! There is nothing shocking wrong!”
Mireya cried. So did you.
The admittance that Peter was right wasn’t one that Miguel was about to make openly.
Although he showed up that night, as you informally requested, the night proceeded awkwardly. There was no talk over dinner, not as he watched you feed his little girl, swaying by the window of the enormous city below. As you gazed into the sea of twinkling lights, Miguel came up behind you. His palms encompassed your slight shoulders, moist against your exposed shoulders. His naked chest grazed your back.
"Are you going to apologize?"
Why should he have to? If anyone listened to what he was saying-- he wouldn't be in this mess. Still, Miguel steeled his face. He placed a mincing kiss on the top of your head. His voice thinned out, barely a feather on his lips.
"I snapped."
"You did a lot more than that. You scared her."
You let him sit with his regret until you fell asleep. He debated returning to the lab or his room to try again tomorrow. But he knew his wife. You were attentive to everything that he did. You might take it as a sign of his disinterest. After minutes turned to hours, he breached the door and slid into your bed when he was sure you were asleep.
When his eyes coursed over your figure, he realized all he missed. It was too long since he felt the warmth of a real kiss. Not the brief pecks on his lips as he rushed out the door to help Jess or Gwen or any other number of spiders demanding his attention. He missed the warmth in your eyes, the way they turn into crescents with a happy smile or jaunty laugh. He longed for that sensation of your fingers combing through his hair, taking your time and curling his fluffy hair behind his ear, eyes trained on his alone in a sea of spiders. That… sensation of being the only one that you wanted.
Mireya was that for you now. He longed for it every time he came into the room, seeing you sway with his child in your arms, cradled against your breast, feeding her into a restful sleep. What he thought was a mere seed of jealousy turned out to be a terrible beast, tendrils of resentment that you can’t see what he needs. He needs you. And it isn’t his beautiful Mireya’s fault, no. It’s his.
Instead, he lay there with his palm wretched around his cock, soaked in the artificial lubricant, throbbing into his hand. He remembered his words that night. A begrudging -- Mami, give me a baby-- and how well you took him. Your body seemed to know what he wanted, swelling with his child after a few weeks. He buckled into his palm, cranking around the base and swirling up to his leaking tip, bubbling with his need. He circled his finger over the head, swiping the fluid away.
“What are you thinking about?”
Miguel paused, sweat crept down his thick throat over his broad chest. He shuddered under the weight of your silken words. His hand coiled around his cock in one more jerk, somehow accepting that he had been caught.
“Are you thinking about me? Or is there someone else?”
"Someone else?" he breathed. His lips dropped into a frown, agitation simmering to a boil. It cooled when you looked at him-- but really looked at him. The bed shifted under your weight, ruffling pillows aside. You hoisted your legs over his body, pushing his cock against your soft vulva and his stomach, breasts pushing into his face. So close that Miguel inhaled the uniquely sweet smell of your milk obscured by thin lace.
“Why would I have anyone else?” he asked, his chest distantly aching. His gaze tracked from one breast to the other. He stole a glimpse at your face, stricken with shyness. The slight pout of your lips, eyes refusing contact. “Do you even want me?”
Undoubtedly yes.
“You don’t come to see me. You don't fuck me. You don't even--"
"You're always tired."
"But you could wake me.”
“Could I? To deny me again?” It hadn’t meant to come out so passive-aggressive, but with the natural inflections in his voice, he knew you could read him like a book.
“Oh, papi," not that soft voice. He might hope again. "I always want you.“
Hmpf. Debatable.
“Even when you’re jerking off in my bed. Or couch.” You slid your pink tongue along your lower lip, guiding your body against his. The wet draw of your juices over his dick drew his sharp scarlet eyes to the sight, knocking your stiff clit with his dick. For a moment, his words failed. He should have known you would watch him.
“Is that why you're so... angry? Because of me?" He made a small noise, barely a huff. You drew his hands to your full breasts, obscured by a thin layer of fabric. This time, he smothered a groan in his chest. How pathetic, he thought, to be moaning from something as simple as your firm breasts back in his hands. What was he-- twelve? "Have I been neglecting you, Miguel O’Hara?”
“Yes-- you've neglected me,” he murmured, dragging the lace underneath each breast, knocked together by the straps of the fabric. He melded your breasts again between his hands, massaging the sore skin. His thumps flickered over your nipples, stiffening them into peaks. With a small pinch to your breasts, milk dribbled over his fingertips.
"I won't do it again," he wondered if you missed his touch by the full, grateful hum of your lips, your palms disappearing into his dark hair. You coursed along his dick again, eliciting another piteous noise of longing from his throat. "I promise."
“Hm," was the only agreement. "What a mess,” he teased, not bothering to look at you. It had the desired effect, your shoulders shyly bunching up, the cute pout of your lips, warmth in your cheeks, quivering eyes. He loved it when you looked so fucking shy, so vulnerable, and all for him. "You're leaking all over my hand."
“I’m-- sorry,” you flushed, “It… happens.”
“Mhm, you're full,” Miguel flicked his pink tongue along your stiff, fat nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a suckle. Sweet milk soothed his tongue. He hungrily drank it up, shifting his other hand back to angle his cock at the entrance of your core. A hand left his thick locks and jerked to his broad shoulder, stabilizing your hips down to sink onto him. Blood welled to the surface with your claws scratching piteously along his sunkissed skin. With a bit of resistance, he slid perfectly into your body, just like he always did. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips against your breast. It was somehow different-- the tug and stretch of his cock-- as he fucked the mother of his child. Maybe it was all in his head. “Shock, you’re gorgeous on my dick.”
“Miggy--”
He shifted to the other breast, his hands nearly stapled on your hips, encouraging you to do the work. Your warm milk slid into his mouth, down his starved throat. The pleasure of knowing he was draining you of your milk was tempered with the ever-present fact that soon, you’d have his spunk in your belly again. Your hips flushed, drawing around in quick circles, flushed with his pelvis. Small waves of pleasure grew in your belly. Your stiff clit glided against his skin, again, and again with the undulations of his hips. You felt pinned between his mouth and dick, restricted in movement, but all his, devoured by his need.
“Come here, mi hermosura,” Miguel released your breast from those lush lips, sliding his tongue along his lips to catch the remnants of your sweet milk. He slid down along the pillows, flushing your chest to his, and propped his legs slightly for a better angle. His muscular arms wound around your back, cock pumping into you with renewed vigor. He knocked against your cervix in this position, holding you fast and tight in his arms. You nestled against his sweaty chest, accepting his thrusts so well.
“Miggy-- I’m not-- on anything.”
“You're breastfeeding, close enough,” he mused in your ear as though it were a joke.
You might have argued with him if you weren’t so blinded by that fantastic juddering of his hips. As it were, pleasure rocked all thoughts of birth control out of your mind. Miggy, an ever-present lover, groaned as he held out through your orgasm milking and soaking his swollen dick in your cum. Not a moment later, Miguel forced a long stroke of his dick inside your cunt, reaching his climax buried deep in your tremoring walls. You squeezed him tight, milking him dry of his orgasm until it all faded into fuzzy pleasure. You sighed as his arms loosened, warm and full of Miguel after so long. His soft dick slipped free, cum oozing onto his thighs, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess.
He set a kiss on the top of your head, then your forehead, and eventually snatched your lips in a warm kiss. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue and flushed. Your head dropped down on his chest, listening for the gentle whining of your daughter. It was silent but for the intermingling of your heaving breaths.
After all the issues: the disappointment, the fighting with Peter and Jess, Miguel couldn’t help but chuckle. All it took was jerking off in your bed. He should have known-- you never did like to be left out on his fun. You were always a jealous lover, even at the threat of his own hand.
“Hm? Why are you laughing?”
“Peter said I was sex-starved."
“Well," you glistened a smile, kissing along his jaw. He huffed. "He wasn't wrong."
#miguel o'hara oneshot#miguel o'hara x you#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara/reader#miguel ohara oneshot#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv imagine#atsv imagines#atsv x reader#atsv x you#across the spiderverse imagines#across the spiderverse imagine#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman 2099 smut#miguel ohara smut#miguel x y/n#miguel o’hara smut#miguel/reader#miguel x you#miguel o'hara imagine
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DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings
Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!
Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.
~~~~~
Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.
Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.
Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.
However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.
And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.
Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.
As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.
But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.
But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.
Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.
It was so weird here.
When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.
Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.
He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth.
He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures.
He missed the dance of death and life.
He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League.
This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely.
Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.
~~~~~Phone call~~~~
Damian: Mom, I want to go home.
Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened?
Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this.
Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol.
Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much.
Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz.
Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem.
Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.
~~~~~~~~
It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.
And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.
The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…
Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.
Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.
~~~~~~~
When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.
Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.
Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.
Jason: So, do you like books, little demon?
Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft.
Jason: Personal recommendations?
Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites.
Jason: Not a common opinion, huh.
Damian: It reminds me of my family.
Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.
~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~
Dick*whispers*: How's the situation?
Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.
~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~
Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd?
Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course.
Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest.
Jason: Wow, what a jerk.
Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.
Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.
Jason: Your sister? How old was she when...
So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.
Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her.
Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you.
Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury.
Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands.
Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now?
Duke: We are very sorry, dude.
Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock.
Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him.
Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son.
Damian: Did I say something wrong?
Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.
Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.
~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~
Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open.
Danny and Dan *salute*.
~~~Several Days Later~~~
Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller.
Dick: And Danny and Dan are..
Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters.
Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami.
Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest.
Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you.
Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.
~~~Several years later~~~
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