#i am terrified of posting this but i feel like it needs to be said

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[wistfulcynic]

Harsh-Sounding and Potentially Unpopular Opinion Incoming. (lots of them, actually, brace yourselves.)

here it is: On the whole, people do not consider or relate to the experiences of others unless they are forced to. 

Now i am not saying that this makes any of us terrible people. Just that there is a natural inclination to assume that your way of doing things or of thinking about them is The Way and unless it is actively brought to your attention that this isn’t true, you just hang out in your own little solipsism forever. 

i think about this a LOT whenever i see discourse about, let’s say, just to choose a topic at random, racism in fandom. i think about it every time i see a white person say “bUt noT eVEryTHiNg iS aBouT RaCe.” Because they’re right. Not everything is about race. For them. 

It’s that “for them” that trips us up every time. 

(disclaimer: i am a white person raised in the USA. When i say white people/Black people/POC i’m talking about Americans.)

We white folks love to say that we don’t think about race. For us, that’s a kind of virtue signalling. “I’m so enlightened I don’t even think about race!” Give me plaudits now for i am a Good Person. But what we fail to understand is that Not Thinking About Race is only possible for us because white supremacy makes it so. Not Thinking About Race is a privilege we have because our race doesn’t inform every aspect of our lives. It doesn’t prevent us from getting jobs or educations, it doesn’t lead to us being followed around in stores or accused of crimes or shot just for existing in public. This isn’t virtue, it’s obliviousness. We don’t think about race because we don’t have to, because being white doesn’t affect our day-to-day lives and, ahem, on the whole people do not consider or relate to the experiences of others unless they are forced to. 

POC are forced to. (i’m basing this on what i’ve learned from POC talking about their experiences, please call me out if i get anything wrong). POC have to think about race all the time because it’s constantly shoved in their faces, by the lack of diverse representation in media, by the constant stream of news stories about Black people being killed for no reason at all, by their own daily experiences of microaggressions and injustices and downright tragedies. POC think about race because they don’t have the privilege of Not Thinking About It. 

All of this, when brought into the fandom environment, leads to a fundamental failure of communication and understanding. When a POC says “this thing is racist” and a white person immediately replies “but i wasn't even thinking about race!” both those things are true. Both those things are true but they are not. both. equally. valid. 

The POC spots the racism in the thing because they a) think about race by necessity and as a matter of course and b) have direct experiences of racism on which to draw. Whereas white people all too often spend their whole lives surrounded by other white people without any diverse viewpoints or experiences to force them to consider how others might see things. This leads to a whole lot of well-meaning white people who do and say racist things, not out of active racist intent but just by living as a privileged person in a racist society full of racist institutions and never actually thinking about whether their experiences of that society and those institutions are universal or not, or considering how it might feel to be deliberately oppressed, excluded, and unserved by that same society and those institutions. 

Again, this doesn’t mean that we are inherently bad people. It does mean that we are humans with human flaws that we need to be aware of in order to behave in ways that don’t cause harm to others. This is not easy. When you are raised to think in certain ways and do certain things and you know that there’s no malicious intent in any of it, it is harsh and jarring to hear someone tell you that those things are racist. It’s natural to want to defend yourself. It’s not, unfortunately, natural to think “actually maybe they have a point. Maybe they know something i don't. Maybe it’s something i need to understand if i’m going to have a fully informed opinion on this topic.” 

It’s not natural to think that but it is essential. We need to learn how to listen without defensiveness and how to decouple our actions from our beliefs about our character. It’s possible to do and say racist things without being a bad person, so long as when we are told that those things are racist we stop doing and saying them. Believe people when they tell you that what you’re doing harms them, and then don’t fucking do it anymore.

You think POC talk too much about racism? You want them to stop? This is how that gets done. It’s the only way that gets done. Arguing with them, trying to invalidate or silence them—that just takes your racism from “unintentional” to “actively fucking harmful.” That’s where it stops being an unintended consequence of your privilege and starts being a choice.

Listen to POC. Listen to them and do better and then maybe they won’t have so much racism to talk about. Then maybe we can all go back to enjoying our gay pirates in peace. 

Then. But not before.

[izzy-b-hands]

My doctor messaging me at 12:30 in the morning to tell me she wants to do a telehealth visit abt the side effects I'm having with my new Lamotrigine dose (including worse insomnia than my usual insomnia, as u may have guessed lmao) is. something.

[kannagen]

:p

[piplupod]

i remember what i was panicky about and man i wish i didnt gjfkfl

[autism-disco]

why are time signatures the way that they are >:(

iris by the goo goo dolls is listed as both 3/4 and 6/8 how am i supposed to do this

[lovecrazedpup]

.

[megaderping]

A while ago, I made a post going into parts of the missable Sae Palace arc text messages, such as these:

However, that post neglected to include a full transcript. I have since transcribed all of these texts, which occur on 10/30, 11/3, 11/7, and 11/11. You must not infiltrate Sae's Palace until after these dates in order to get these.

Transcripts below the cut! Crossposted to the P5 sub.

The first of these texts takes place on 10/30. You will miss this text if you infiltrate the Palace on the first available day.

--

Ryuji: Yo, Akechi.

Akechi: What is it?

Ryuji: You got any idea who the true culprit might be?

Futaba: Oh yeah! You said you saw a masked guy, right?

Haru: I wanted to ask about that too.

Futaba: Did you really see him? The masked guy's gotta be the true culprit, right?

Akechi: If this so-called true culprit is acting alone, then there can be no mistake about it.

Futaba: I see.

Yusuke: The next question is, who is that masked man?

Akechi: Unfortunately, I do not know that much.

Futaba: Ugh, you're useless.

Akechi: That is quite harsh.

Futaba: Aw, you're making me blush!

Ann: That wasn't a compliment...

Akechi: At this point, I have yet to even grasp any clues. But once this is dealt with, I will surely capture him. I promise you that.

We'll be counting on you.

Akechi: Perfect. Leave it to me. It may sound somewhat odd for me to say this, but I am an exceptional detective. I assure you, I will catch this culprit. Look forward to it.

Can you do it?

Akechi: Hm? Do you not trust me?

[The rest plays out the same as the other option.]

--

What's funny about this exchange is how the Thieves know Akechi's deal and are just playing along. It makes some of the reactions (especially from Haru and Futaba) read as comically passive aggressive. However, the more interesting texts start coming on 11/03, 11/07, and 11/11.

Starting with 11/03.

--

Ryuji: Goddamit. People're acting like we were the ones who killed 'em.

Yusuke: I have even heard them say we are assassins hired to deal with psychotic breakdown victims.

Ann: Ugh, that's obviously not what we're trying to do.

Akechi: This must be part of the plan to shift blame onto the Phantom Thieves. After all, the true culprit is the one killing the people on that ranking list.

This is unforgivable

Akechi: Indeed. I have no intentions of letting this slide.

This is total BS

Akechi: But that is the truth for the general public at the moment.

[Both lead to...]

Futaba: Man, this culprit guy really won't let up. I don't remember ever doing anything that'd make someone hate us THIS much.

Haru: He used my father as well...

Akechi: I cannot fathom what his motive may be... We will just have to capture and interrogate him.

Makoto: But before that, we need to change my sister's heart. That's our first step toward stopping him.

Akechi: I must agree. The true culprit will be caught, but before that we must deal with Sae-san. If ranking is being taken into consideration, perhaps I will be targeted too... Just kidding.

--

This tells us that Shido is deliberately having Akechi target high ranking targets on the PhanSite in order to terrify the public with abhorrent acts of violence, much like he did in April. It's a way to make people feel scared and more reliant on Shido to be the change that Japan needs. But if you secure the treasure as quickly as possible, you will miss this added information that really deepens how cruel he truly is by ordering hits just to paint a convenient narrative.

And this is definitely Shido's idea, because on 11/7 we get this gem...

--

Haru: Do you think the culprit could be someone at our school?

Yusuke: That seems somewhat sudden.

Haru: I mean, didn't they find a calling card in Principal Kobayakawa's office? I thought you had suggested that idea yourself, Yusuke.

Yusuke: That was just a generalization.

Haru: But if Mako-chan noticed what was going on with you guys, somebody else might have too.

Ann: So you think that "somebody else" is trying to frame us? What's gotten into you so suddenly?

Haru: Nothing has gotten into me. I just think there's a chance the culprit is related to Shujin...

You might be right. / There's no way.

[Both get the same response:]

Yusuke: What is all of this about? It's too soon to be jumping to conclusions like this.

Haru: Well, I was hoping to hear a professional opinion on the matter... What are your thoughts, Akechi-kun?

Akechi: The possibility is not zero, but it does seem a bit unlikely.

Haru: Why do you ask?

Akechi: A normal person would never do such a thing. They would have no reason to callously murder your principal.

Haru: And what if they weren't normal?

Akechi: Are you implying they kill for the sheer pleasure of it?

Haru: No, not like that. What I mean is, you need certain special abilities to navigate through that world, yes?

Akechi: Ah, so you're saying the culprit is a Persona-user.

Haru: Yes.

Akehci: I see... How perceptive. Truthfully, I was considering that possibility myself. But it is difficult to think they have ties to Shujin Academy.

Haru: Why?

Akechi: There would be no motive for them to carry out such a cruel plot. Clearly our culprit is acting behind the scenes to accomplish some grand objective. He likely has accomplices. It is even possible that he is being controlled by someone.

Makoto: Controlled? By whom?

Akechi: If I knew that, I do not think we would be in this much trouble.

Haru: I see... So even someone like you doesn't know, Akechi-kun.

Futaba: Looks like our genius detective's not so much of a genius after all.

Akechi: Haha, harsh as always. If there is one thing I know, it is that the culprit behind all of this is extremely shrewd. But don't worry. I will catch him, no matter what it takes.

I'm looking forward to that. / I wonder if you can do it.

Akechi: More importantly, we need to focus on changing Sae-san's heart for the time being. If we cannot do that, everything we have done will be for naught. We absolutely must succeed here.

--

There is so much to unpack here. By far, it's my favorite of these texts because of the light it sheds on Akechi's motivations and intentions. First, we have Haru pressing the subject. She clearly wants to squeeze answers out of Akechi. She's subtly putting him on the spot because she knows...

But Akechi lets slip that no, actually, he doesn't do this for pleasure. That actually, he is being controlled and that the true mastermind is someone shrewd that he intends to take down. Amidst all of Akechi's lies and platitudes during this part of the story, we see a crack in his perfectly prepared mask. In a way, this is the most honest we've seen Akechi outside of his Royal confidant and on 8/28 and 9/3. In a way, he's sharing little slivers of himself with the rest of the team (either begrudgingly or for reasons he doesn't fully understand) the way he already has with Joker.

And it actually explains a few things that happen later. Namely, the way he downplays the need to kill the other Phantom Thieves until after the election (keep in mind, he does intend to knock Shido down from his pedestal) as well as treating Morgana as "just a cat." Obviously, this doesn't absolve Akechi of his guilt, but it does make it clear that he isn't as remorseless as a lot of people believe, even if no amount of sunk cost fallacy is gonna undo the damage he's done.

Hell, when combined with his lamentation that he didn't meet Joker years ago in the engine room and his reaction to Morgana explaining changes of heart, these texts further solidify that his feelings toward both Joker and the Thieves are extremely complex and absurdly messy.

Plus we get Haru and Futaba both taking shots at him, which is fun and also extremely deserved. :p

Moving on, there's one final missable November text on 11/11. It goes as follows:

--

Akechi: So, about the investigation... It seems they have no evidence that can truly be called as such.

Ryuji: Well duh.

Akechi: However, it seems they have no intentions of changing their plans.

Ann: They're going to investigate at both Shujin Academy and Leblanc, right?

Akechi: Indeed.

Makoto: Hm. I can understand Shujin... But why Leblanc?

Akechi: The key is Wakaba Isshiki.

Futaba: Is it cause of my mom's research?

Akechi: Correct. Her study of cognitive psience is closely connected to this case. Of that, there can be no doubt.

Futaba: Then this guy's really the mastermind behind all of this?

Akechi: That would be the case. There can be no mistake... The one who erased cognitive psience from this world is surely the culprit behind everything.

Makoto: And getting rid of the research was the only way they could use its powers?

Akechi: How perceptive of you. Yes, that is the only logical conclusion. Both Sae-san and I were searching for clues about that research. But just as we were about to deepen our investigation, this commotion began. And to make things even more troublesome... There was only one person with strong connections to both Shujin Academy and Leblanc. And that person turned out to be the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

Yusuke: So the culprit had calculated all of this in advance?

Akechi: Heavens no. That would be impossible. This was a miracle created by the coinciding of multiple chance situations.

Ryuji: Dude, you hear that? He says you got miraculously bad luck. Don't that make you feel good?

I'm so lucky.

Ryuji: Y'know, shitty luck is still luck.

That's not funny.

Ryuji: C'mon, you gotta be able to laugh it off at this point.

Haru: Yes, your luck really is impressive.

Akechi: At any rate, that's the current state of things. And that's why we must obstruct the investigation at all costs.

Makoto: Yes, that's our intention.

--

Once again, we have Akechi laying it on thick that Shido is the one behind everything, as he was the one who ordered the hit on Wakaba, stole her research, and had his own research team develop it further. And keep in mind, Shido's own words, first on 11/21...

"Those who get in the way must be eliminated at times—that's the correct way to use the Metaverse."

And later, his Shadow states, "Moreover, it was thanks to me that Akechi was able to properly use his power to begin with."

So we know that even the idea of inducing mental shutdowns came from him, even if Akechi offered his Metaverse abilities as part of his stupid revenge plan.

What this shows is Akechi wants to hint that there is this bigger puppet master, even if he's going to betray the Thieves, and this is actually really consistent with his Royal confidant. In Rank 7, he uses a billiard games as a metaphor for the upcoming betrayal kill and gives Joker an out, even if he's much happier if you assert your rivalry instead. This makes his warnings about the connections to Wakaba carry a very similar feeling, and since these texts were in Vanilla, it's likely that the Royal confidant built on this foundation.

But then there's the fact that the Thieves are fully in the know that Akechi is going to betray them, so it recontextualizes all these texts where they are genuinely trying to squeeze as much info out of him as they can and likely having to restrain themselves hard (especially Futaba and Haru).

And all of this you will never see unless you delay the infiltration until 11/12. So, the next time you play Persona 5 Royal, it might be worthwhile to delay Sae's Palace to see these in-game! They're really cool and it's a shame they aren't scripted events.

[desi2go]

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

[genderqueerdykes]

thank you both for this, i was literally in the process of writing a post about this as i saw these.

i came out as bisexual when i was about 19 or 20 years old, in 2011 - 2012. this was such a difficult thing because everyone around me suddenly had very pointed opinions on me. suddenly i wasn't queer anymore, i was a straight person. i asked people why and they said well bisexual people are half straight, which makes you straight, which means gay people don't want to be around you. i was told nobody likes bisexuals because they're too straight to be gay and too gay to be straight

i had a literal personal dilemma because i didn't feel like that at all. when i was realizing i was bisexual i was realizing i was attracted to all genders in a queer way. i did NOT feel like my attraction to men, women or genderqueer people was straight in any way, shape or form. i've always fit in much better in both gay and lesbian circles. those have always been my home, and my community

in the early days of my transition, when "genderqueer" wasn't even remotely heard of, i had to try to transition into being a man to be seen as trans at all. i went from being forced into lesbian spaces to being forced into gay male spaces. nobody let me pick where i was existing. i was being pushed around. i liked both lesbian and gay male spaces, but i was being told when i could and couldn't occupy the spaces. and then when it came out i was bi everyone called me a traitor and said i was a straight person

my best friend at the time came with me to pride meetings and when her mom found out about that, and that i was bi, she told my friend she couldn't come to those pride meetings anymore, and that i was turning her daughter into a lesbian. her mother would not stop calling me a lesbian all throughout my life. from early childhood, she thought me and her daughter were dating because i was butch and she was femme and we were very close. her mom carried this belief into adulthood, asking her outright if we were lovers. her brother thought we were, too, and taunted us about it.

my own mom weaponized lesbianism against me. she hated how butch i was. she hated that i "looked and acted like a lesbian". she called me a butch and a bulldyke hatefully. she told me not to dress or look certain ways or else people would assume i, and her by some proxy, were lesbians. my mom was insanely butch so i don't really know why this was being leveraged against me but either way when i became a young adult and my mom was trying to force me to learn to drive (something i am terrified of doing due to having 2 dissociative disorders), she asked what kind of car i would ideally like. i said a truck. i was standing there in a purple plaid shirt and she just sighed and went "I knew you were a lesbian." she pointed out my shirt. she was weaponizing lesbophobic and butchphobic stereotypes against me, but either way, reinforcing that i was a lesbian in one capacity or another

i got so tired of my friends harassing me for saying that if i was bi that meant i was straight and i needed to stop calling myself gay because i wasn't, and that it was an "insult" to the gay community. note that nobody gave a singular flying fuck about the bisexual community at all. i was literally bullied out of identifying as bi, because my straight cishet male friends hated it, and my lesbian identifying GF was uncomfortable with it because it made me sound too straight.

the thing is, none of these people asked what being bisexual meant to me.

i actually liked the lesbian community a lot. i really love other lesbians. i have always been attracted to lesbian and butch identifying people for as long as i could remember. i loved seeing strong butch women on TV, even if there were rude jokes. i loved the idea of being a masculine person who is sometimes a queer masculine woman. i loved the idea of being with femmes, i loved queer women and people who took femininity to the next level. i also loved seeing gay men when and wherever they existed. i always felt like i fit right in, and like i was seeing a reflection of a part of myself i needed help discovering.

i have almost always, as long as i can remember, identified as a gay man, and a lesbian, at the same time. my attraction to men, women, and people of all genders is queer no matter what gender of mine is involved. it doesn't matter. i have never felt "half gay half straight" which is why people weaponizing heterosexuality against me as a bisexual forced me to strictly identify as a gay man for almost a decade. it was painful to ignore my butch lesbian side, and to stop identifying as gay, because people would criticize how attractive i found women, and other people

if people had let me exist and explain what bisexuality means to me, they could've understood that bisexual is an inherently deeply queer attraction no matter what genders are involved, but NOBODY cares to listen to the bisexual. everyone LOVES to speak for us because we're just "straight people invading the queer community."

we've had it. bisexuals are queer. even if they DO identify as "half straight" they're STILL queer. let bisexuals define bisexuality. there is no one size fits all form of bisexuality. every single bisexual defines it differently and that's the point. it's a very complex identity with many layers that often relate to gender and presentation as well as attraction.

let bisexuals define bisexuality.

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔

➪ summary: after the first incident of her getting sick, her brothers are on high alert for when the time comes again. but what happens when they're all away and she gets sick when she's alone? | based on taylor swift's 'safe and sound'

➪ warnings: reader is sick, throwing up, blood, hospitals, swearing

➪ word count: 3.0k

➪ file type: song based fic

➪ sunny's notes: i have mixed feelings about this fic because... well if you know what happened with this you know what happened. i am extremely proud of it though especially because i wrote it in one night and the person who this is based off of absolutely loved it when i posted it the first time as well

nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

'I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here along But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight'

She was five when she got severely sick the first time and she was terrified. She woke up feeling warm and cold at the same time, her throat was scratchy and dry, and her eyes were watery but she didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if it was just a reaction, and her energy was slim to nonexistent which was scared Ellen and Jim.

By now, their sons would’ve scooped the youngest child out of her bedroom and made their way downstairs to watch something on TV or just play with her. Yet, it was dead silent in the house. Ellen got up from the bed and peeked into each of her son’s rooms and was relieved to find that they were asleep still. 

She hoped the same for her daughter but when she walked into the room and saw her five-year-old in tears sitting on her bed, she rushed over.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Mommy!” She let out a loud cry alarming Jim and he came rushing in as well, not noticing the eldest Hughes child in tow. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m here, your brothers are still sleeping, let’s not wake them up. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.” She sniffled and quieted her voice.

Ellen picked her up and placed her daughter on her lap as she sat down, “Jim go get the-” 

Before she even finished, y/n leaned over and threw up, trying not to get it on Ellen, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, hon. Jim, go get the thermometer.”

Jim quickly walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom but got stopped as he ran into his son, “Quinn! Morning.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Your sister’s sick, it’s probably nothing.”

Quinn’s face went pale, “Is she okay? Does she have a fever? Is she throwing up?”

“Quinn! Calm down. I promise you, it’s probably just a little cold. You can go see her if you want, Mom is in there with her.”

Quinn walked into the room to see Ellen hugging y/n. He took one step and Ellen turned to him, “Hi, Quinn.”

“How is she?”

“It’s most likely just a cold. Y/n/n, look who’s here.” She directed her head to her son and pointed to him, “Quinny!”

She reached her arms out for him and Quinn gladly took her, placing her on his hip, “Hi baby bear.”

“I no feel good, Quinny.” Quinn nodded his head, “I know but we’re gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Jim walked back into the room, placing the thermometer under the girl’s tongue. Seconds later it beeped and Jim took it out of her mount, “40.6/104”

The parents sigh and start to walk out, “Quinn if you don’t mind can you get her ready quickly, we’re gonna need to go to the hospital.”

Quinn nodded his head and he walked over to his sister’s closet, “Whatcha wanna wear, sweetheart?” Y/n lazily pointed to her brown bear sweatshirt and snuggled her head back into her brother’s chest. Quinn got her ready and sat her on her bed so he could put her shoes on. 

“Quinny?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Of course, not y/n/n. I’m never going to let you go.”

Jack and Luke had both heard the rustling from outside their rooms and they both stepped out into the hallway, “What’s going on?”

Jack shrugged, “No clue, bro. I’m so tired.” The boy saw his sister’s door open and walked in there.

By now, Quinn was sitting on her bed and y/n was lying in his arms, “What’s going on?”

“She’s sick.” Jack and Luke immediately wake up at the news and rush over, spitting out questions left and right.

“She’s got a fever but that’s all I know right now. Mom and Dad are taking her to the hospital.”

“The hospital?!”

“I wanna go.” Luke protests just as their parents walk back into the room, fully dressed, “Oh, good morning you two.”

“Can we go with?”

“Guys, the three of you can’t come with.”

“Please, mommy.” Y/n’s little voice spoke up from her brother’s lap.

Ellen sighed, “Fine. But if you guys aren’t out there in five minutes, dressed, then we’re leaving without you.”

Ellen reached over and grabbed her daughter, the three of them heading out to the car to wait for their sons.

『••✎••』

In the hospital, Jim and Ellen were the only ones allowed to go back with her at least for now, and y/n let her voice be heard. She cried and cried until they relented and let one of them go back with the two. She reached for Quinn immediately and he nodded his head and followed behind his mom and sister, Jim staying with the other two. 

When they got home, the boys sat at the kitchen table as Jim tried to give y/n her medicine, “I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t want to, honey, but you have to. Don’t you want to feel better?”

“Jacky.”

Jack’s head popped up from where he sat and looked at her, “Yeah?”

Y/n pointed to her medicine and then to Jack and glared, “You want Jack to give you your medicine?”

She nodded with purpose and Jim happily gave the medicine to his middle son, “All yours, Jack.”

Jack didn’t complain, it meant that she trusted him and he loved that feeling. Jack poured the liquid into the small cup to the correct fill line and put it near his sister’s mouth. She took it without a hassle and from the corner of his eyes he could see his father throw his hands up in defeat causing everyone to chuckle.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'

Later that night, y/n lay in bed by herself, looking at the wall. Her stomach hurt and she let out a barely audible whine. Luke, who happened to be walking by, heard it and peeked his head into the room, “You doing okay, baby bear?”

“No.”

Luke walked fully into the room and sat on his little sister’s bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Stomach. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, I will.” Luke laid down next to her and she curled into him, “Thank you.”

Luke looked confused, “For what?”

“For making me feel safe. All three of you.”

Luke awed internally, trying not to let tears fall down his face, “No need to thank me for that.”

Five minutes passed and Jack and Quinn got down waiting for their brother, getting up to see where he was. When they saw him lying in y/n’s bed, they made their way over to them, “You guys okay?”

There was no answer as both of them had fallen asleep. Quinn told Jack to stay there as he walked out to grab some pillows and blankets and brought them back to him. The two made their makeshift beds on the ground and fell asleep not long after.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

‘Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound’

Ever since then, it was common that y/n had to go to the hospital. As the boys got older, they got more worried. They were busier, Quinn went to college and eventually, he and Jack made the NHL. Luke went off to college and this year he started his official rookie season with the Devils. 

However, it wasn’t as often that it happened when they were away, and if it did it wasn’t as bad as having to go to the hospital, just more or less the doctor’s office. They weren’t as worried about her when this happened, getting texts from either there or their parents and calling them to make sure she was okay.

This time was different. Ellen and Jim had run out to grab a few things for dinner and they left y/n at home alone, because she was 16 and was capable of being by herself. Yet, in hindsight, they probably shouldn't have. 

They had been gone for twenty minutes already and she thought they wouldn’t be much longer and she could hold on. But she couldn’t. Every couple of minutes it felt like she had a coughing attack, but this last one, blood came up with it. 

Wasting no time she dialed the first person that came up on her contacts, Luke. 

“Lukey.”

“Hey, y/n/n! What’s up?”

She was glad they didn’t have a game today, otherwise she’d be totally screwed. 

“Lukey, I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? Why? What’s wrong?” Luke stood up from his bed and made his way out of his room and towards Jack’s. 

He didn’t knock on the door before entering which left Jack to somewhat argue with him about knocking before entering, not that he was doing anything, but manners, you know? 

“It’s so bad. Really bad.”

“Well, where’s mom and dad? How bad are we talking?” Jack’s interest peaked at the mention of his parents and scrambled to sit next to his younger brother on his bed, motioning for him to put it on speaker. Luke pressed the button and pulled his phone away from his ear, waiting for the girl to talk. 

“They went out to grab-” She took a pause before coughing some more. Jack and Luke looked at each other worriedly, “Y/n?”

“Oh god. There’s more.”

“More what?” Jack inquired, nervousness settling at the bottom of his stomach, “More blood.”

The three were silent, y/n trying not to freak out and Jack and Luke trying not to freak her out. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the oldest of the three-spoke up, “When are Mom and Dad going to be home?”

As soon as she went to say her answer the front door clicked and y/n rushed downstairs, “Dad! Mom!”

She threw her phone on the counter and Luke turned the volume all the way up in an effort to hear the conversation, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I threw up some blood.” 

“Oh my. Get in the car, I’ll meet you two there.” Jim rushed y/n to the car and Ellen ran around the house gathering a few things in case they were there for a while. 

Jack and Luke were freaking out, “Dad, what’s going on? Mom? Y/n?” Ellen spied her daughter’s phone on the counter and looked at it curiously seeing her son’s contact name on it, “Luke?”

“Mom, what is happening?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital. How long ago did she call you?”

“I don’t know like five minutes ago maybe?” Luke’s voice broke as he explained to his mom, Jack placing a hand on his back. 

“I want you to call, Quinn-”

“No!” Y/n interrupted her mom as she got into the passenger seat, “What do you mean no?”

“He has a game, please.”

“Honey, I think you are more important to him than the game. Let Luke and Jack call him.” Ellen’s voice was stern as Jim pulled out of the driveway.

“If you’re gonna call him, let me talk to him.”

Ellen, and the boys, went to protest but y/n’s face showed desperation, “Fine. We’ll call you two back when we have answers.”

“Don’t bother. We’re already packing.” 

As Ellen and y/n were squabbling, Jack ushered his younger brother to his room and told him to go back and he left his phone in his room. Jack pulled his suitcase out of his closet and was halfway finished packing when they acknowledged the two again.

“There’s no need-”

“You’re not winning this y/n/n. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Jack hung up and finished packing, meeting Luke and in ten minutes, they were on their way to the airport. 

Meanwhile, y/n had dialed Quinn’s contact, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. It was an hour before the game was supposed to start and she had no idea if he would actually answer or not, but to her luck, he did.

“Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n/n. What's up? Need help with some homework?”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

Quinn dropped his stick as he stood in the locker room, some of his teammates glancing at him worriedly, “What is it?”

“Same old, same old, but this-” Her sentence was interrupted by another coughing attack and Quinn could hear their mother telling her to take it easy in the background. 

“What do you mean it’s worse?” Quinn didn’t need her to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant.

Elias was standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder to ground him in case anything got out of hand, “I coughed up some blood.”

“You what?!” Quinn’s voice echoed through the clubhouse, “Quinn what’s wrong?”

The boy shushed his teammates, “Quinn, I’m probably fine-”

“If you’re coughing up blood you are not fine. Do Mom and Dad know? Do Jack and Luke?”

“Yes, Mom and Dad know, you idiot. Who do you think is taking me to the hospital? And yes the other two know, I already called them. I didn’t want to call you because you have a game.”

“I couldn’t care less about the game when my little sister calls and tells me she’s on the way to the hospital. Let me talk to coach, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Quinn, no-”

“Nope, la la la la. Blah blah blah. I’m coming. Give the phone to mom.”

“But-”

“No.”

Y/n reluctantly handed the phone to her mom but as she extended her hand, her arm dropped and the phone clattered to the ground. The only thing Quinn could hear was the faint yelling of his sister’s name from his mom. 

『••✎••』

Y/n was lying in the hospital bed when Jack and Luke watched the only show that was on this late at night, Family Feud. She was trying to answer but every time she went to speak she’d start coughing. The two ran in just as y/n’s previous coughing attack had subsided and she was now glaring at the TV because someone said a stupid answer.

“I said sex first, asshole. But no one wanted to listen to me.” 

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Jacky! Lu!” Y/n had a dopey smile on her face as she saw her brothers. They couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or if she was just being herself.

“Hey, baby bear. How you feeling?”

“Mom, can I swear?”

Jack laughed, “Aren’t you the one who just called someone an asshole?”

“Mom! Jack’s being mean.”

“Jack, stop torturing your sister and yes, y/n, you can swear.”

“I feel like shit.” Luke nodded, the only one who seemed to have sympathy for the girl right now, “What did the doctor say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”

Ellen and Jim explained how it wasn’t a big thing and that she should be able to go home in a couple of hours or so. The two stayed with her until she was discharged and drove home with the three where Luke carried her upstairs to her room because she fell asleep on the way home. 

That’s where Quinn found them when he got there, Jack and Luke on either side of her in her bed as they watched the Game Show Network. One of the many stuffed animals that Quinn had gotten her wrapped in her arms against her chest. 

“Hey guys.”

“Quinn! You’re here.”

“Of course, I’m here. I couldn’t let those two take care of you.”

Jack and Luke feigned offense at the eldest child but Jack moved over so Quinn could sit where he previously was, knowing y/n always chose to be close to him when she was sick. 

“You doing okay?”

“Could be better, but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m never letting you go, none of us are.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was something the three had already talked about, they had already talked to their coaches and were scratched from their next couple of games because their sister needed him. 

Y/n spent the rest of the night surrounded by her brothers feeling safe and sound.

⬂ 𝗛𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

@zebraszegras | @ru-kru | @alwaysclassyeagle | @flowergirl1134 | @puckslxt | @ivy-34 | @kei943

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 17

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Mature (mentions of child loss and grief, aka we go through Joel's past one more time as he says goodbye)

A/N: We are at the end ❤ I am insanely nervous since the whole story was built around this final chapter...I really hope you like it. I am going to make a separate post with all my thank you notes, but for now: @the-scandalorian I literally could not have done this without your guidance and reassurance and constant support. I owe you everything, and I love you. @mrsmando thank you for looking this over for me, for being such an amazingly emotional ride or die and for inspiring me since day one of this fic with your massive brain. I adore you. finally, @bageldaddy thank you for yelling at me in the doc when I needed it, and for your constant Joel advice. You make me better. ❤

Series Masterlist

--

“That’s it, honey. You’re doin’ so good.”

 “Yea?” Straightening your back, you let your hips roll with the movement under you. The inside of your thighs burning with overuse, your voice is slightly breathless. “Like this?”

“It’s like you’re a natural,” he muses, giving you a wink. 

“I don’t know about that.”

A trampled path guides the horse more than you do, a circle carved into the grass in front of the cabin and you let out a breath, feeling yourself relax for the first time since you first climbed on. 

He didn’t believe you when you’d said you’d never been on a horse until you stood next to it, terrified. He had helped you up that day, climbing into the saddle behind you. When he noticed that you were paying more attention to the way his broad body encased yours from behind, he cut the lesson short with a teasing scold. 

Only to continue it in the bedroom later that night. 

He’s silent for a moment as he walks next to you, until June’s babble from the edge of the field calls out across the space. 

“See?” he says. “She thinks so too.”

She starts to crawl towards the two of you, and Joel is quick to stride over, picking her up. 

“I feel like I got the hang of it,” you say tentatively. “I’m not sure what to do if I have to take off on it though.” You look at him, the scenario only now occurring to you. “Hang on. What if I’m holding her and we have to run? How will I hang onto her and the horse? How –”

His hand comes to rest reassuringly on your thigh with a squeeze, stopping you.

“Don’ focus on that right now.” He shifts June in the crook of his elbow so that her outstretched hands can touch the horse. “Just focus on learnin’ the basics. When she’s down for her nap, I’ll get on with you and we can practice goin’ faster. Okay?”

He holds your gaze for a moment, sunlight catching the brown in his irises and curls. He raises his eyebrows in question, and you nod. 

“Okay. Yea, okay.”

Giving the horse a pat on its neck, you let June brush her hands over its coat. Her tiny fingers dig in, pinching the animal in exploration. 

“Easy, baby girl. Easy,” Joel murmurs. “You gotta be gentle. Like this.”

He takes her hand in his, petting the horse. Having no patience for the slow movement, she tugs her hand free to make a quick grab for the animal, and he chuckles, stepping back - only for her to erupt into a wail. 

“Aw come on. Don’ gimme those crocodile tears, baby.” 

Lifting her into the air, he holds her above his head and looks up at her scrunched face. His biceps strain the sleeves of his t-shirt, his curls fluttering in the breeze as he suspends her until her cries turn into whimpers, then giggles. Only then does he bring her down, kissing her on the cheek. 

“I knew you were fakin’.”

–

The plan was to leave tomorrow, at first light. 

Weathering weeks of up and down emotions, you’ve been constantly wavering between wanting to follow the others in hopes of finding somewhere safer for June and being terrified that you’re making the wrong decision. A silent war within yourself, always waging as you prepared. 

When it was just you and Joel, there were times that you had been afraid. You had eventually made peace with the idea that something might happen to you, even though you would have fought with everything you had to prevent it. The fear you feel now, however, is on a whole other level. Something more base, coming from deep within you. 

 It’s so much harder with June. So much more left to lose, so much more at stake. 

A bone-deep type of fear that took root in you the moment you realized you were pregnant, it only grew until it was something overwhelming. Something that choked you with nerves the day she came into this world. Something that reached down into the heart of you and grabbed hold of reserves you never knew you had. Something that turned you into another person entirely when you thought about anything happening to her - a very real possibility given the unknown you were willingly venturing into. 

In comparison, Joel seemed…calm. Always the case when he had a clear direction and a purpose, you couldn’t tell if it was because he truly believed this was the right thing or just because he was so caught up in the planning of it all.

Plants harvested and then pulled up to save the root system, seeds meticulously dried and saved in scraps of paper, everything protected with as much safe keeping as you could provide it. Stores of food organized and packed in makeshift saddle bags, clothing and rags for diapers and two sleeping bags and medicine and first aid supplies and knives and anything else you could think of that might be useful, already accounted for and packed away. 

All of it placed by the front door, waiting. 

You run down the mental list one more time while rocking June, eventually placing her in the crib after cradling the soft, warm weight of her sleeping body for a moment. 

“She go down okay?” Joel looks up from his place on the bed, the lantern glowing warm edges around the curve of his shoulders. The light splays across his skin, and he sets his book to the side. 

“Yea, she was just a little fussy.” Yawning, you crawl into bed next to him. “I think she can feel something in the air. Our nerves or something.”

“Probably,” he agrees. 

Sliding down under the quilt, you watch the shift of his muscles as he stretches to turn out the light. Joining you, he rolls on his side so you’re face to face.

Getting comfortable, you scoot closer. “So. Our last night.”

“Looks like it,” he replies, grasping your hand. He runs your knuckles over the  seam of his lips, giving them a kiss.

“Are you nervous?” 

He considers for a moment. “Yea. I know it’s time, but I can’t say I’m ready for what’s waiting out there.”

You nod.

Content silence rests between you, a cricket chirping right outside the window, the  gentle current joining the rustle of leaves as they stir in the warm night air. Your fingers play idly with the sparse hair that covers his chest, and he watches you in the darkness. 

“Are we doing the right thing?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper. 

“It’s a little late for that, honey,” he teases, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. When you don’t reply, his tone softens and he continues. “Hey now. We are. I know it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t know if anyone is with any decision they make, honey. ‘Specially not parents. You can only hope, ya know?”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and he gently plucks it out with his thumb. Guiding your face to his in the darkness, he runs his touch across your cheek, stroking the soft curve. 

“Look at me.”

He’s right there, holding your gaze. Brown irises turned black in the dark room, holding you steady. There, like he’s always been. 

“This is the right thing. I know just as well as you that there is plenty out there to be afraid of, but I got you. I got you both. I ain’t gonna let anything happen.”

A tear slips from the corner of your eye, dampening the pillow case. Your fears getting the best of you, words come pouring out. 

“What if she crawls away while we are sleeping, or what if she gets sick? What if someone tracks us, and tries to take what we have?” You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. “If something happens to either of you, I –”

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, and he’s gathering you in his arms, pulling you close. The steady thump of his heartbeat underneath your cheek greets you, and you bury your face in the soft crook of his neck. 

“I know we have to, but I don’t want to leave. This is our home.”

He softly shushes you. “We’ll make a new one. Together.”

Cradling your head in his hand, he lets you cry, his fingers stroking over the crown of your hair. Wrapped in his hold, you let it all pour out: not deep, shuddering cries of despair but rather the silent cries of mourning, of nerves strung too tight for weeks. 

His hand slips down to rub between your shoulder blades and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to commit everything about this moment to memory: the mattress underneath you, the heat of his body, the husky rumble of his voice. The soft sheets and the worn blankets that have held the heat of your naked bodies countless times. His side of the bed that smells like him, his things on the nightstand, the feel of him in the middle of the night when it’s too dark to see. The scratch of his beard against your palm when you sling your arm over him in the night, just to find the bare patch along his jaw with your fingertips. 

You think about everything that’s ever happened in this bed: his confession about Sarah, the intimacies you’ve shared with each other under the safe veil of darkness. Sounds that these walls have absorbed night after night: his low chuckles and his murmured praises and his endless, reassuring love. 

When you’re done, Joel guides you back down into the mattress, using his hold on you to close the distance between your mouths. A gentle kiss for your lips, then your nose, then each one of your tear damp eyelids before finding your mouth again. 

You shift up, giving him access to deepen it as his tongue slides against yours, your body arching into the familiar taste and path of his kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair, slip down the breadth of his back, and curl around the back of his arms.

Your thighs hug his hips, his head dipping to find more of your skin. Laving the edge of your jaw, he gives your throat an open mouthed kiss as his hand pushes your sleep shirt up. Up, up, exposing the bare skin over your sternum and when his lips find your nipple, he draws into his mouth with a reverential suck. He laves his tongue over and around it, playing with the stiff bud as he rocks his hips into yours and when his teeth gently scrape, a moan catches in the back of your throat. 

The last time you’re ever going to feel him in this bed, you savor it. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groans softly when his fingers find your slick warmth. 

“So do you,” you breathe, reaching down to guide his fingers inside you. They slip in with a slick, snug stretch, and he rests his forehead along the plane of your chest, watching your hand move with his. Crooking his touch to reach a spot that makes you keen, he rubs against it and you muffle your sounds against the firm round of his shoulder. 

Quiet. You have to be quiet. 

“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, and he works his fingers faster, pulling back to watch your face. 

“I wanna make you come like this first. Gonna be awhile before I can take my time with you again.”

You say nothing, the air seizing in your lungs as you arch into the tight, syrupy warmth he’s building inside you. Clenching around his fingers, you’re tipped over the edge by the heft of his stiff cock rocking against your thigh.

“There’s my girl,” he praises. 

His words wash over your heated skin, his eyes flashing in the dark. Slipping his fingers from you to drag damp over your skin, he pushes your legs open to make room for himself.

–

Leaving you sated and asleep, he slips from bed as quietly as he can, stepping out into the inky night. Tugging a sweatshirt over his head, his feet are bare, the hem of his pajama pants skimming the grass as he walks down to the shore. 

A simple handmade cross made from the leftover wood from June’s cradle is gripped in his hand.

He kneels and taking his time, begins to delicately smooth out a patch of sandy earth. His fingers pluck away wayward strands of grass and toss out tiny pebbles until it’s cleared. A stack of stones he’s been gathering for the last few weeks rests in a pile nearby, waiting. 

Satisfied, he rests back on his heels.

“Hey, baby girl.”

Silence greets him, and content with that response, he continues.

“We’re leavin’ tomorrow.”

Reaching for the biggest stone, he turns and sets it just at the edge of the lapping water. He then balances the next one on top, slightly smaller than the one underneath it. 

“I’m not sure when we’ll be back, if we’ll ever be. But I’m gonna mark a spot for you just in case. My favorite spot.”

He adjusts a third stone on top of the others, his hand lingering to make sure it stays put. 

“I never got to –” he starts, steadying himself. “I never had a spot for you. Just kept you in my head, and in my heart.” He holds the fourth stone in his hand, looking at it. “I always wanted a place to visit you. A place to come to when I missed you, a place to talk to you.” 

He sniffles, using his knuckle to wipe at a tear that slips free and then places the stone on top of the others.

“Now I know that you’re always listenin’.”

The water washes over the base of the stones, the ripples sparkling in the moonlight and he finishes the cairn in silence, listening to the sounds around him. When he’s done, he looks up, and stares at the expanse of stars above him. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. His voice wavers, and he swallows hard. “For everything. I know you know this, but I’ll – I’m always thinkin’ about you. I’ll always be here when you need me, okay? I will never stop bein’ your dad.”

A few more tears roll down his face, and he lets them go. The corner of his mouth eventually lifting, he clears his throat. 

“Maybe you could watch over your sister for me, make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble on this trip? Sometimes she gets this smile on her face and it’s just like the one you used to get.” A low chuckle slips free, and he hangs his head with a shake. “It's like I know she’s about to do somethin’ that she ain’t supposed to do, and all…'' 

The rueful smile on his face softens, his voice lowering with a rasp. 

“All I see is you.”

More tears come, silent paths gliding down his face and he sits alone with his thoughts then, on the edge of the river. 

That night comes back to him: the sheer terror he felt, the despair, the helplessness. The rage that filled him when he woke to find out that her body had been left behind, twisted and broken and all alone in the dirt somewhere. Like no one even cared to bury her, even if he knew that wasn’t the case. 

The blur of black days that followed her death, when he longed to join her. 

The weight of the gun in his grip, the thud it made when he whipped it at the wall with a scream when he missed. 

All the years after, trying to lock the memory of her away. The shadow of a person he became, all the things he did without an ounce of regret. 

A man with nothing to lose, because he’d already lost it all. 

When his tears dry, he looks up at the sky again and finally, he remembers a different memory. 

A warm night sky just like this one, the slippery cushion of a sleeping bag under his back and a petite, squirmy body stretched out next to him. 

“What’s that one, dad?” A swirl of stars above them, her small finger points at the brightest one. 

She sits up, the silhouette of her unruly curls calling to him and he brushes his hand through the soft texture of it, making up a name.

“Dad! Stop it,” she laughs. “For real. What is it?”

He makes up another one, and the girlish peal of her laugh echoes in the dark; the kitchen light from the house glowing behind them. 

Still feeling her curls against his palm, he takes the cross in his hand, and pushes the bottom of it into the dirt. Standing with a soft grunt, he brushes the sand from his knees and looks at it for a moment. 

A tiny thing, shadowed by the protection of a tree. 

Protected and safe, finally. 

“I love you, baby girl.”

With one last look at the cross, he makes his way slowly back up to the cabin. 

–

With June secured to your front, you walk around the inside of the cabin one last time. 

Domestic warmth infused in every room, items you have to leave behind paint a picture of the people that lived here: the westerns he read in his early days of avoiding his want for you stacked next to his side of the bed. The flowered quilt that you tucked yourself under on rainy days spread over the mattress. The bathroom, with its neatly folded yet mismatched hand towels draped over the bar next to the sink. 

The living room, with the dust that once coated everything gone, and the kitchen, with a neat row of washed pots lined up next to the dish rack that holds a mug used this morning. 

The clean windows that would let in the bright sun, save for the tarp along the back that has been secured in place.

Even the strangers that line the hallway live in cleaned frames, and walking past them, you wander into June’s bedroom to take one last look at her cradle. Impossible to bring with you, it hurts the most to leave behind. You’re still looking at it when Joel comes in from outside, calling your name.

“In here,” you call back, and he comes to stand behind you, curling his hands around your hips. You lean back into him, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, reading your mind. 

“I’ll make her a new one, honey. I promise.”

You turn and give him a watery smile, and he presses his lips to your forehead. 

“A big girl bed this time, I think,” he coos down at June, and she reaches for him, fussing when he doesn’t pick her up. 

Cradling her squirming body, you follow Joel outside. 

Next to the porch, the horse shifts under the weight of the saddle bags, stomping her feet and you watch as Joel soothes her, sliding his hand down over her coat. Ropes securing everything, she is weighted with your belongings and with the plan  to walk beside her as much as possible, you start to untie her reins while he closes the front door. 

The original tarp that covered it is dragged back into place, and when everything is as it was on that first day you found it, he gives it one last look.  

Coming to join you with his rifle slung over his shoulder, he takes the reins. 

“You ready?”

At the sound of his voice, June looks at him and smiles, a tiny dimple piercing her chubby cheek. He returns it, reaching out to grasp her foot with a wiggle. 

“Are you?” you ask. Your brow knit with gentle concern, you nudge your chin towards the water. 

“Your spot is beautiful, by the way,” you say softly. “June and I said goodbye this morning. It’s perfect for her.”

He says nothing, gratitude spilling from the depths of his eyes. Looking at you for a long time, he then leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. 

“I guess time heals all wounds,” you muse, thinking of the man you came here with and he pulls back.

Looking down at you both, his expression turns into a sort of solemn earnestness.

“It wasn’t time that did it.”

Your fingers locked in June’s fist, she pulls them into her mouth for a nibble and his hand reaches up to stroke the curve of her cheek, and then your own before leaning in for a kiss.

Walking away from the cabin, you look back when you reach the far edge of the original path that brought you here: the only visible indication of the structure a slice of muted, dingy blue in a sea of lush green. Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk beside him, the slope of his broad shoulders a map that you’ve always followed without question. With another couple steps, the cabin disappears from view.

Looking forward, you lace your fingers with his and walk.

[darnell-la]

𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗨𝗣 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗥 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: dark!stalker!logan howlett x bartender!reader

warnings: kidnapping, breaking skin, manhandling, choking, hard orgasm, begging, change of mind, teasing, degradation, etc.

note: lil pervy bastard. fuck, I just know he’d make sure you knew who you belonged to.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“W-Where am I?” Y/n asked as Logan finally played her down his bed. The layout on the room scared her, because it was similar to her own layout, just more things she’d been wanting to get that she has noted in her notebook.

“Home, princess — Gotta lay low for a couple of days though, after that stunt you pulled,” the man had glanced back at y/n as he went through his drawer that was full of clothes y/n would definitely wear, and some clothes that she noticed him missing throughout the months.

“Logan-“ y/n was scared at how much work he put in for her. He was a grade a stalker, and the worst one at that. She wouldn’t be able to fight him off. No one could, and he knew that.

“C’mere, princess,” the man said after finding a nightgown for her to wear for the night. “D-Don’t come near me!” She shouted, but it sounded so pathetic. She knew that once he laughed and continued walking towards her.

“N-No,” Logan pulled on y/n’s ankles until she was on the end of the bed. “You needa be comfortable around here, Bub. Can’t have my princess worried, stressed or anything. Not one issue,” the man said like he hadn’t kidnapped her.

Y/n could hear the sirens outside of the apartment, making her think he probably lived close to the bar, and he did.

He worked hard to earn money for his own apartment. He didn’t need to stay with the x men or anyone else for that matter. He needed his own place to have y/n in.

“Stop it, let go of me!” She yelled at the man as she kicked and swung, but the man eventually got her clothes off. Every last fabric.

“Don’t fuckin’ piss me off, y/n. I’m just gettin’ you ready for bed,” the man tried being calm. He didn’t want to hurt y/n, but she’s leaving him no choice just about.

“N-No! I wanna go home!” She yelled as she finally got loose from his grip somehow. It wasn’t long before his hand wrapped around her arm, but she was read.

The young woman had grabbed a lamp that seemed brand new and untouched. She raised it and broke it across the man’s face.

She soon regretted it as the man turned his head back to her with a terrifying look as his the cut in his cheek healed back in her face.

“You’re in for you fuckin’ bitch,” Logan cusssed before he lunged at the girl, two hands wrapping around her neck as he slammed her against the wall. The wind was knocked out of her.

Y/n cursed herself out in her mind, unlucky that she was completely naked and he was only in his boxers. If she had played along, maybe she could’ve snuck out. Or maybe she’d just stay. He’d come for her again, anyhow. She was fucked either way.

“Wanted to treat you like my little princess, but sometimes pretty girls like you needa be stooped down to a slut,”

Logan lifted the girl up and threw her from the wall to the bed. She flew across the room, shocked when she hit the mattress, but before she could process the fact he threw her like a baseball, the man lunged over her.

Logan waisted no time bite at y/n’s neck. She cried in pain, but she knew she was fucked when her head became light from the instant rush of lust.

“Mhm,” the man growled in her neck as he pulled his boxers down. Y/n pushed at the man’s thighs, begging for him to let her go, or maybe even take it easy on her, but he didn’t want to listen.

“Whores don’t get what they want,” the man whispered in the girls ear like some game, before he plunged into her, stretching her in an instant and violating her walls.

The girl cried loudly, feeling him deeper than when he fucked her over the bar counter. This man was a an animal, a fucking beast the way he bullied through her.

“Nah uh, you shut the fuck up! Fuckin’ callin’ the police on me and breaking lamps over my fuckin’ head. You’ve gotten on my last nerve tonight, y/n. Last fuckin’ nerve,” Logan’s hips snapped hard.

“P-Please, Logan — I-I’m sorry,” she cried out, regretting it all. She knew the cops were going to be no help, she knew that damn lamp wouldn’t do shit to Logan, and she knew she was so close to cumming dumb around his cock.

“Oh, really, baby? Well, you’re gonna have to show me how much you’re sorry to deal with me tonight,” Logan gave y/n a chance, but she barely wanted to take it, but she couldn’t lie anymore.

All the crying, all the trying to get away — It made no sense when the young woman knew she was going to fall apart on the man.

“S-So sorry,” y/n’s hands gripped the man’s shoulders. “S-So fucking sorry,” she cried as his teeth pushed at her neck, making sure to leave something, rather people would see it or not.

“So fuckin’ sorry, princess? You’re so sorry?” The man mocked as her head fell back. Logan looked down at the woman, watching her mouth part and eyes switch. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how fast she fell apart.

“So fuckin’ easy. I can impress this cunt in less than twelve hours,” Logan’s lips now grazed against hers. She chocked in her moans as her body stiffened. “Yeah,” Logan repeated in a low deep voice, feeling her juice soak into his mattress.

“That’s my girl — So damn good lookin’ when she goes dumb,” y/n finally cried out, feeling his thrusts get faster. “L-Logan,” the girl softly placed her hands around his neck to pull him closer.

Her mind was forced to forget every red flag about him. The way he fucked into her, made her clueless. She couldn’t understand how dangerous he was, knowing he fucked like this. She couldn’t deny how much she loved being used by an animal.

“Gonna fill this cunt up, and give you another chance to relax tonight,” the man said through his teeth as he felt his cock twitch.

Y/n never thought the man that got drunk everyday would be deep in her system one day. He was always out of it. She thought the man wouldn’t even be able to recognize her, but she was wrong.

Logan was a mutant, and the downfalls of being a good person, is y/n forgetting all about that. Forgetting that the alcohol doesn’t blind him from beauty. Forgetting he’s capable being a bad guy. Forgetting he’s capable of breeding her until she can’t carry anymore.

“F-Fuuuck,” the man buried his face in her neck as his hips rolled, stroking against the right spot, but she couldn’t react. She felt unconscious, but she was still there. She was high off of his cock.

“My fuckin’ slut,” was all her throbbing cunt could think of throughout the night as he pulled her into his hair sweaty body.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

[readychilledwine]

Okay I have like a slightly out of pocket request/idea that I don’t think I’ve seen before and if this is not your cup of tea you can straight up IGNORE but it’s taken over my brain 😂 let’s pretend in this story that eris and mor are mates but it’s a rejected situation bc obvs mor isn’t into males. And helion and the lady of autumn are also mates. This is post Hybern, maybe during or after ACOSF. Beron (I know ew right but stay with me now) ends up finding HIS mate. And she’s like the sweetest thing ever and she’s terrified of him. (Beron is infatuated with her because of whatever power she may have but he’s still an asshole don’t get me wrong this is not a beron redemption request) It becomes public knowledge that beron found his mate and he plans on marrying her. eris REFUSES to let another female be subjected to what his mother went through so this is what spurs the whole murder beron and become high lord plot. I have no thoughts on what happens between but eris succeeds and becomes high lord in the end, but falls in love with beron’s mate during the process and it’s mutual love and it’s angst with a happy ending. Usually fated mates is my jam but I just needed every mating bond to go wrong in this one LOL. Except for Helion and LoA of course 🫡

A Game of Fate

Eris Week - Day 7 - Free Day

Summary - After the bond between Beron Vanserra and Eris's hidden lover makes itself known, the cycle of tyranny in Autumn is put to the test

Warnings - assassination, poison, Beron, mentions of abuse, food and sleep deprivation, beron x reader mating bond.

A/n - I've been holding on to this, and I am so sorry 😭. I played with it a little bit, but I this ultimately was the version I am happiest with! Happy last day of @erisweekofficial . It feels like I'm like leaving a long-distance friend after too short of a visit.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

The Cauldron was wrong. Eris understood Azriel's claim in every sense now. The Cauldron had to be wrong.

There was no other explanation for why his father was currently signing papers to end his marriage because you were his mate. Sweet, kind, soft spoken you. You dreamed of far-off places, peace. You once told Eris you liked to imagine what the stars whispered to each other late at night.

You were a dreamer, and you were his. Eris had hidden you in plain sight since you became his peace. You were there for him after Mor rejected the bond. You were there for him after every beating, and you loved him through everything.

And now your father had to go and ruin it. You were 505 years old, and he finally felt the need to present you as a lady to the court to be married off however Beron saw fit.

If it was a massive payout your father wanted, he had it. Everyone knew what had happened the second the High Lord of Autumn laid eyes on you. The reactions ranged from jealousy to sympathy to shock. And now, two months later, the reaction was silence.

Without even speaking, you had changed the course of Autumn's history. You had ruined Helion, Rhys, and Eris's plans. You had freed his mother at the cost of yourself and your safety. Your words behind those closed doors would haunt Eris until he died, "I will marry you only if Lady Autumn is freed and allowed to leave to wherever she sees fit, safely and with your blessing."

Eris sighed as the other two High Lords, the inner circle, and his brothers all sat in Helion's war room. Eris's boots banged with each anxious and angry step, "Any ideas," he asked. "I would have to outright declare a blood duel now, which requires gaining the support of the rest of the courts beforehand, and we do not have time for that."

"We can not declare war," Rhysand contemplated. "No other court had claim to the girl, and you have no known claim to her."

"Even if he did, Autumn court law says the mating bond trumps it," Eris's mother, Anala, said. "Especially when it is between two members of the Autumn Court. Our laws allow males to claim their mates without her accepting the bond."

"Well if that isn't misogynistic-"

"Let me know when you actually ban wing clipping, and you can bash my court's laws," Anala spat at Rhysand. "You know, as well as I do change doesn't come overnight with a dictator."

Rhysand blinked at the former Lady of Autumn before glancing at Helion. You entered the room at that moment. The air seemed to tense as you did, but Eris rushed to you, holding your elbows. "Are you alright?"

Beron has been trying to manipulate you for weeks. He played games with your mind no long talks with Eris could prepare you for. Beron was a monster, and this was only your second week continuously being with him.

Helion stared to his love, his long lost mate, and stood, "Give me a week with your mother, and I will do it." The silence was screaming as the former Lady of Autumn shook her head. "There are no other answers, my love." Helion knew the look in Eris's eyes, the ache, the desperation, and the struggle.

He knew immediately what you were to Eris and what you could be to Autumn. Helion, much like Eris, knew he could not let you fall victim next, but you had no intentions to. He had watched his mate suffer for far too long, and the rumors of Beron's so-called adoration for the female in front of him did not mask the concern the Lord of Day felt.

You and Eris held eye contact. The room noticed the wordless communication. It was a bond that could only have been built through love, trust, and years of understanding. "I can not risk you like that."

"I would be careful," your reply was so soft but filled with confidence. "He won't even know if we use small amounts."

Eris couldn't help but hold your arms a little tighter, "I will not risk you." His eyes were pleading for you to reconsider to think this through.

"Would anyone mind including the rest of us in this... touching conversation?" Rhysand picked a piece of lint off his jacket before crossing his arms.

You spoke before Eris could, "There is a plant that grows in a certain place. It is highly poisonous and undetectable. The symptoms are no worse than an allergy. It can cause death within 2 weeks."

You watched as Anala shook her head at Helion, "I know of no such poison."

"That's because I made and grow it," Eris flinched at your admission and the questions it would bring.

Helion started to laugh, "You made it?"

Eris glared at the Day Lord, "y/n has a certain.. gift.. from the Mother."

"I can combine poisons," you rolled your eyes at Eris playfully. "Create new ones with no antidote or cures." Rhys and Helion turned to each other, clearly not assumed by the new information. "I only used it once. And they deserved it."

Anala's whiskey eyes went wide, "The human smuggler. You killed him?"

"Eris did. I just provided the supplies."

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eris, why was this information not provided to any of us earlier? Do you understand how useful she is?" You shook your head toward the red-haired male. He seemed to calm down instantly at the sight of you. "Ah, I see. She's your lover. Not just your friend."

His mother seemed stunned at this information, "But Morrigan?"

You flinched at the mention of her name. "Has the same taste as I do, mother," Eris was only looking at you. "And I do not support this idea," his grip on your arms grew tighter. "He is not a common idiot."

"Nor am I," you declared. "I would be smart. I'll be close enough to him to make sure he gets it every day. Even after just a week-"

Rhysand finished, "He'd be weak enough to call an emergency meeting or for one of us to declare the blood duel."

You nodded at the Lord of Night, not even stopping to admire his dark beauty with the grace of Autumn and Mother Nature stood before you in Eris's eyes. There was no world where you planned to be without him, no world where you could see yourself in arms besides his.

But for a week you would not have a choice. For a week, you would play the part you were expected to, and it began before you even had breakfast the next day. You were woken up by two handmaiden ripping you from your bed in the former Lady of Autumn's private chambers and throwing your half awake and now naked self into a bath.

Every inch of you was scrubbed almost raw before your hair was washed and scented to Beron's preference of roses. You were dried and dressed in almost no time, the heavy traditional gown feeling like shackles on your figure.

No cotton dresses if this failed.

No more nights in Eris's sweaters and nothing else.

Once your hair and makeup we're finished, you were not taken to breakfast. You were taken to lessons. Beron had assumed you knew nothing of formality, nothing of etiquette. You had not been presented to his courts, so what other assumption could he have made as you were retaught the differences in dinning utensils.

You would not see food until that even came, and then the mood quickly fizzled away as the table for two was filled. The only sound in the room was meat being cut, your breathing. You knew not to speak before the High Lord addressed you. You knew he was testing you with silence.

You did not see Eris in this male. There was no sign of the life that burned in Eris's eyes. No freckle of Beron's seemed to mimic the night sky the way Eris's did. There was nothing special to you about Beron Vanserra. Not even the bond was strong enough to make you want him.

"How were your lessons," his voice was falsely sweet. "I assume based on your manners they went well."

"They were lovely, High Lord," you responded. "A good refresher for everything my mother had already taught me."

Beron glanced at you, "Are you inferring you did not appreciate me setting you up with the finest tutor in my court?"

Eris would be whispering to you to tread carefully. Beron's very body language told you this was beginning to enter dangerous territory. "No, my lord," you said softly, "But I would hate for you to waste time and resources on me when I am sure there are better things to put them towards."

Beron leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he cocked his head, "You know how to play. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy breaking you, mate."

And you thoroughly enjoyed watching him drink the whiskey laced with 3 drops of poison.

The next day was different. Beron himself was dragging you places without food right away this morning. He was showing you off to different advisors all day, bragging about your beauty, your ability to manipulate flowering and fruiting plants into harvests sooner.

You had used your magic so much to show off for him that you could hardly stand as he affectionately held your chair out for dinner. "You did wonderfully today," he began eating after forcing you to say a prayer to the Mother.

He didn't get to hear the silent plea you sent her. The silent begging for mercy.

You sid get to hear him start coughing as he drank his tainted whiskey that night, though.

Eris was worried for you the third day. You had been sent to bed late, awoken early. Once again, not allowed food. He had stayed by your and Beron's side in meeting that day.

His amber eyes never left your form. He was openly staring at the way you couldn't help but lean on Beron in your exhausted state.

And when Beron stole you for dinner, Eris made sure to add extra poison to his drink, watching as you played the part of the perfect mate, rushing to help him as he began to cough up blood.

Illness among the fae was rare, but when it struck, it was deadly. By the end of day 4, the Forest House was a much quieter place. Beron was bed bound due to Eris's choice to expose him to the poison morning, noon, and night.

You had warned him that this poison was aggressive in large doses. He had also tested it on more brutal lesser fae tracking to attack innocent children to see that. It was brutal, focusing on getting into the smallest cells of blood before shutting down major organs quickly and painfully. You were sat beside his father, crying, playing the part, and Eris beside you, a distraught son.

Day 5 Eris slipped the poison in a high dose into Beron's pain medication before finding you. He had cornered you into a hall closet. You had been forced from bed far too early again, forced to skip meals again.

Eris knew this tactic. Had Beron been healthy, he would continue this until your brain associated Beron's presence with food. It was a way to make you comply, to rely on him.

Eris put an end to it right that moment. He ordered you to be given food, then rest. His father refused the tea Eris offered him that night. Took weak to even open his eyes.

You had underestimated yourself and your powers, or perhaps the smug male above you had more to with it than he let on, bit day 7, Beron was unresponsive. Eris held you down on the bed you two had shared so many times before, kissing your neck and whispering words of how he'd move the very foundations of this world for you when the knock came on his door.

He quickly hid you, allowing a healer to enter. Eris faked his reaction perfectly. He fell to his knees with a strangled cry, hand on his heart as the healer moved to comfort the young heir.

Beron was unresponsive.

And by night fall, Eris truly fell over. His very blood felt as if liquid fire had been poured into him. His hearth grew brighter, hotter.

It wasn't until your heart-wrenching scream came that Eris knew without doubt what had happened. No one had prepared for the outcome of you losing your mate. No one had even questioned what it would do.

They had been so focused on saving you that they had forgotten the most important part of the bond, Beron was the other half of your soul. Grief. Guilt. Joy. Anger. You had never felt like this. You had never imagined a world where you could feel so deeply it ached and made you sick.

You pushed healers away as you held Beron's hand. You pushed Eris away as he came to kneal beside you. You didn't want to feel this, yet you did. You did as he forced you up and out of the room. You did as Beron's body was burned before his ashes were given to the trees. You did as you watched Eris take his place.

The grief only stopped when Eris concerned you that night, his hands on your hips, and he led you to another room where a separate celebration took place. Anala stood in Day Court attire, laughing as Helion dipped her, laughing as Lucien smiled at her from across the room, Elain safely tucked to his side.

Eris's middle brother stood dancing with his male lover, the two of them just swaying. Mor was there with Emerie, lips by her ear gossiping. "I ache too at times," Eris looked at her, a longing in his eyes as he did. "I wonder if I made the right choice to let her go on my loneliest nights. Then I see you."

Eris kissed your knuckles, "I see you, and I regret nothing. Not even what I did in secret."

You looked at him then, "Eris?"

"I stole the black poison. The one you never tested. Every time he and I ate together, I slipped him that one as well."

Your face fell, "You-"

"Weren't going to risk it. Not with the female I am in love with being involved," Eris drank his wine slowly as he studied your reaction.

"So no big fight needed?"

"Oh, trust me, I wanted that," he clarified. "I didn't realize it would work as quickly as it did. I wasn't sure what you had been crafting. He died before I could challenge him, but before he could break you."

The two of you continued watching Helion and Anala, continued watching Lucien and Elain, his brother, Mor.

The grief did linger, but as you took his hand, it faded more. "Let's go dance, High Lady," he whispered into your ear.

And with each spin, every dip, the raise in laughter, the ache continued to fade.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[emotionaldamages]

american girl & british boy - lando norris

summary- established relationship

pairings- lando norris x sargeant!reader

authors note- might be spelling errors, feel free to put in requests

masterlist

y/nsargeant

liked by landonorris, logansargeant,and 2,837,872

y/nsargeant I ♡ my bf

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landonorris my love

logansargeant disgusting

username ITS A NEED OF WHAT THEY HAVE

logansargeant i expected a better caption from you considering how much of a swiftie you are

username they’re so lover coded i fear

username couple goals

lilymhe you're cheating on me

y/nsargeant it's not what it looks like baby

alex_albon @ landonorris you seeing this???

landonorris I am??

alex_albon we'll get married lando

y/nsargeant oh fuck no back off lily and lando are mine alex

username don't you just love lover from other couples

username if they ever break up please know i’ll be dead

username that should be me holding your hand💔💔

username don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding the love of your life

maxverstappen p said she wants you back asap

y/nsargeant tell her I'll be back soon😔🤞🏻

username i wish i was lando so i could just stare at her all day

landonorris

liked by y/nsargeant, carlossainz55, and 2,927,415

landonorris my travel buddy

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y/nsargeant I love you❤

username I love them so much together:(

username hes so inlove

username if my future bf doesnt love me this much i swear-

username tHaT sHoUlD bE mE

carlossainz55 I thought I was your travel buddy😔

y/nsargeant not anymore buddy

charles_leclerc your down bad my man

y/nsargeant so are you so stfu

username y/n arguing with the other drivers is everything

username I'm going on tinder

logansargeant gross. give me my sister back

landonorris no can do buddy

y/nsargeant

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 3,837,872

y/nsargeant yup yup going back to these mfs in a week

tagged landonorris, mercedesamgf1, pierre gasly, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and logansargeant

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mercedesamgf1 delete that-toto

y/nsargeant no can do grandpa

mercedesamgf1 your not allowed in the garage

y/nsargeant I always find a way in😍 now go to sleep gramps

username LANDO

username y/n stays bullying toto

username lewis was kidnapped

oscarpiastri I slayed

username can we talk about how cute charles looks

y/nsargeant him dying is cute?

username PLS-

username y/n always getting flipped off

y/nsargeant I know right😔

pierregasly she gets on my nerves

logansargeant she deserves them

y/nsargeant I'm older dont try me

logansargeant BY 5 MINUTES

y/nsargeant best 5 minutes of my life and then your screeching came along

landonorris I'm pretty sure you were screeching as well baby

y/nsargeant dont defend him😒

username them arguing in the comments is the best

username carlando❤

username I'm obsessed with all of them

lewishamilton I was kidnapped for no reason

username summer is almost over

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, y/nsargeant, and 3,827,182

landonorris my gf made me post this but late night shenanigans

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lilymhe y/n always has the best sleepovers

username I want this friend group

username y/n being on top of that thingy is terrifying especially with her thoughts

username I need friends

maxverstappen y/n decided to jump off that

carlossainz55 I got pushed off the couch by y/n

alex_albon y/n stole my gf

charles_leclerc she hit me with a wooden spoon

arthurleclerc she let me sleep

lewishamilton she yelled at me to bring roscoe

pierregasly she yelled at me to bring kika

logansargeant she slammed the door on my face

danielriccardo she threw cake at me

oscarpiastri she stole my phone

landonorris she made me sleep on the floor

y/nsargeant ACCUSATIONS FALSE ACCUSATIONS

username damn they really came for her throat

y/nsargeant IM NEVER HAVING A SLEEPOVER AGAIN I HATE YALL

y/nsargeant

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, and 3,152,837

y/nsargeant back to paddock-sitting no more vacation-sitting

tagged lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen, landonorris, lilymhe, alex_albon, pierregasly, sebastianvettel, danielriccardo, heidiberger_, alexandrasaintmleux

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landonorris we are so cute

alex_albon was a chef slay

pierregasly we are not that bad

lilymhe yall are horrible

y/nsargeant what she said

heidiberger_ what she said

francisca.cgomez what she said

username lando and y/n are the power couple

charles_leclerc stalker

username y/n stalking charles

maxverstappen you are a mean babysitter

y/nsargeant and you need to stop running away

username dont you just love love

username I want a lando and y/n relationship

username if they dont get married istg

danielriccardo lan looking a little funny in the first photo

sebastianvettel nice see you guys

username oh to be loved

[pomefioredove]

Heyyy um. “Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you." with. epel. hes so accidental confession…..

epel IS so accidental confession... ur so right

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: epel additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, pre-book 5

It had already been a long day.

It isn't that he thinks you're going to make it worse; no, if anything, you're probably the only person who'd make it better.

It's just that Epel doesn't want you to see him like... this.

"Well... it's an improvement," Vil sighs, putting his hands on his hips.

"Now, don't move. I'll be back with proper shoes."

Epel scratches at his collar like a dog in a cone. He didn't even know you could find bows in this size.

At least it's over. For now.

Soon, he can sulk back to his room and pretend to practice for the audition thing Vil had been pestering him about for weeks.

Maybe take a nap while he can.

"Oh, my..."

The sound of the door grabs his attention, and for a brief second, Epel is terrified that it's Rook coming to tell him how the color of his bow matches his eyes.

No. It's much, much worse.

"Rook said I might find you here," you're clearly holding back a smile. Epel glares.

"I toldja- I told you I was busy today,"

"Yeah, you seem really busy,"

This is a nightmare. It has to be.

Vil and Rook and all the pampered fancy students in this dorm can humiliate him all they like, he's got nothing to prove to them.

But you?

"I-I couldn't get out of it, alright?" he huffs. "We're experimenting with styles."

You laugh at that. If he were in a better mood, he might have joined you. It does sound ridiculous.

"Well... this one isn't flattering,"

You make an attempt to ruffle his hair, and he grabs your wrist. There's a warm feeling in his face that's threatening a blush, which is the very last thing he needs right now.

He wants you to think he's tough, after all.

"I know," he says. "I didn't have any say in the matter, alright?"

You grin. Damn it. You're insufferably pretty.

Usually, that's something he likes about you. But now?

You get a little closer, and your hands close around either sides of the bow. "I know. Let me..."

He can feel that damn blush on his cheeks and he turns to hide his face.

You loosen the tight hold of the tie, and let it come apart in your hands, smiling.

"Better...ish," Damn, damn it.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. He's making a complete fool of himself, and he knows it.

You do, too. "Don't be embarrassed- it wasn't that bad,"

It was.

"It was almost dashing,"

It was not.

"Vil has good taste, I'll give him that,"

Epel looks back up at you, jealousy rearing its ugly head.

You're supposed to be his friend, his... something. His.

"Why don't you go hang out with him, then, if you like him so much?" the bitterness in his tone is obvious. You raise an eyebrow.

"...I didn't say-"

"Just- stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell outta you!"

There was a part of Epel that really wanted it to sound strong. Manly. Aggressive, maybe? No, just strong.

The rest of him didn't mean to say it at all.

But it ended up sounding romantic anyway. Even you were taken by surprise. The conversation falls flat.

The, you grab one of his hands, and-

The door opens again.

"You again," Vil says dryly, his eyes first burning into you, and then to the discarded bow on the floor, then to the shared embarrassment on your faces.

He sighs.

"I am going to pretend as if I don't know what's happening here. You- out. Epel, you are excused. This is enough for one day,"

You give Epel one last look, but before he can feel guilty for getting you in trouble, he catches a smile on your face.

After the door is closed, he follows.

"Wait,"

He tenses in the doorway, and turns to his housewarden, who already looks exhausted.

"Let me make myself very clear," Vil says, hands on his hips.

"You are capable of making your own decisions- but I will not tolerate any fooling around on my time. Understood?"

Epel nods. For once, he can't even disagree.

The last thing he wants is to be interrupted again, after all.