#sorry I had a Thought and now I’m crying
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This is the post I channel for James' characterisation for years 1-3
The dormitory grew brighter around him at a snail’s pace, the weak Autumn light struggling through the flat, white cloud cover. Remus was exhausted and frustrated, but still, infuriatingly awake. He gave up trying to get any rest and clambered over to the bottom of his bed to pull out a book from his trunk to read until it was a reasonable time to be up.
His eyelids were just drooping over his copy of The Wishing Chair, Again that he’d brought from home to lend to Lily when something heavy and unexpected dropped onto his legs.
“Morning!” James whispered over Remus’ grunt of pain. He was beaming, and looked like he’d slept outside in a hurricane.
“Yeah, morning.” Remus pulled his legs from under James, lest he break them, and put his book to one side. “You’re up early.”
“I suppose. Hey, sorry to spring this on you, but I forgot to ask yesterday with all the excitement. Are you a werewolf?”
Remus lunged forward and clapped his hand over James’ mouth, looking over to his left in a panic. Peter was still snoring.
“Jesus Christ, James, shut up.”
James pried Remus’ hand away from his mouth and grimaced apologetically.
“Sorry mate,” James apologised, keeping his voice hushed. “Anyway, you are, aren’t you? I double-checked the lunar charts over summer-”
“James, are you mental?” Remus groaned. He couldn’t take much more anxiety in one night. “What do you mean, you were ‘checking lunar charts’? It’s like, five in the morning - why are you asking me this right now?”
James looked horrified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I was so sure I was right - I suppose that was a bit presumptuous. Please, ignore what I said, I’m so sorry-”
“No, you’re right, it’s just that-”
“Wait, I’m right ?”
Remus wanted to obliterate himself on the spot. What an idiot.
Well, he supposed at least he could stop worrying about it now.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
He stole a tentative glance at James, expecting disgust, or horror, or fear. Instead, he looked… smug?
“ Knew it!” he hissed. “I’m such a great detective. Sirius isn’t going to believe that I figured it out before him-”
Remus couldn’t believe his ears. Was it simply that James hadn’t thought of the reality of what he’d discovered? Perhaps it was still all a game of Cluedo to him. Perhaps, once he’d had a few minutes for the horror of what he’d said to sink in, he’d go straight to Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore, and ask that Remus be housed elsewhere, or expelled, for their own safety.
And he’d be right to.
Remus flinched as a hand waved before his eyes, far too close to his face.
“Hey, Lupin. You okay there?”
Remus blinked at him, waving his hand away. He didn’t want to touch him.
“Am I okay?”
James huffed. “You keep just repeating me.” James seemed to stop, pull the breaks on his own train of thought, and really look at Remus for the first time since he’d sat on the bed. Remus could feel his eyes searching him. “Sorry. I think I’ve made a mistake.”
There it was.
“I’ve really freaked you out, haven’t I?”
Freaked him out?
“I bet it’s been really hard for you, you tried to keep it a secret. And here I am blabbing away about it. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can keep a secret, I promise. Especially for a friend.”
Remus refused to cry for the third time that day, so he leaned forward and hugged James roughly, before he could think twice about it. James squeezed him back.
BONUS - Peter
“I guess this is about the werewolf thing?”
Remus snapped his head up, bashing his forehead on James’ chin as he did. Peter stood beside the bed, sleepy eyed. Remus rubbed his head and looked bewildered at Peter.
“How do you know?” He asked, incredulous.
“You were sick at the full moon and your scars don’t heal,” Peter shrugged. “I supposed you were trying to keep it a secret, so I didn’t say anything. Seems like that’s over and done with now though.” He smiled up at him and Remus felt his chest ache like someone had reached inside him and squeezed his heart.
How did he deserve this?
James unlatched himself from Remus and huffed at Peter. “Wait, when did you figure this out? I thought it’d gotten it first?”
“No way, I figured it out end of last year - I’m sure you only put it together in the holidays-”
“That’s not true, I was just double checking! I knew last year-”
“You did not, you’re a liar-”
Remus: Oh no. You don’t want to befriend me. I’m a handful.
James: [excitedly] I have two hands!!!
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brat *ੈ✩‧₊˚
pairing dean winchester x fem!reader
warnings smut | p in v | brat!sub!reader | dom!dean
MASTERLIST
"Why you gotta be so damn mean, huh?" Dean grunted, one hand on the headboard to steady himself, the other tangled in your hair, yanking until your scalp screamed.
"Just gotta run that mouth, huh? That's all you do? Just run that fuckin’ mouth?” A particularly hard thrust annunciated his irritation, leaving you gasping, a gut punch of a feeling to your cervix that had you breathless.
He was being mean, so mean, you'd made a point to tell him that too. You supposed you deserved it, for how mean you'd been earlier.
"What? You got nothin' to say now? No rude comments? C'mon, baby, let me hear you. You were so loud and obnoxious earlier." Dean sneered, pulling back on your hair so you whined, pulling you into his chest. His hips didn't stop, hands moving to hold you lightly by your neck, just enough pressure to have you clenching and whimpering.
"You gonna say you're sorry to me?" Dean rasped, nose pressed to your temple, hands snaking up your throat to grab your jaw, pull your face towards his. "Say you're sorry."
“I’m n- not sorry." You whined, legs wobbling when his hips snapped into you, sending you reeling all over again. "You were the one ignoring me-oh!"
“I was working, you little brat." Dean sneered, fingers curling and pressing into your jaw. "How about I come to your fuckin' job and start actin' all horny and desperate? See how you like it, huh?"
You pouted, satisfied that you'd gotten him so flustered and furious. "You'd like that though. I know you would. You'd like it if I came in and-and distracted you like this? Desperate." Dean growled.
"N-No, 'm not." You whined, your voice lilting and nasally, that pitch that had his abs clenching, waves of pleasure shooting through his own body.
"You are." Dean huffed, his breath hot on the shell of your ear, the ghosting of a whine trailing. "Say you are."
"No." You whimpered, hips grinding down to meet his thrusts, desperate for friction. You were already so close.
"Say it, or you don't get to cum." Dean commanded, yanking your jaw towards him so you faced him, noses brushing. "Say you were actin' desperate or I stop. I'll cum either way, but you... fuck, you won't get to cum."
You knew he was being serious. He'd jack himself in front of you, probably tie you up and make you watch while he told you what a bad girl you were. You huffed, bratty and petulant, making Dean suck his teeth.
"I-I was..." You leaned against his chest, head lolling back in pleasure when his free hand rolled your nipples. "I was desperate." You muttered, eyes closed, refusing to look at him when you grumbled the phrase.
"Look at me." Dean growled. "You know better, look at me."
You blinked, looking at him through hazy, blurred vision, lust drunk and so close to your own orgasm that it was painful. "I-I was desperate, Dean, please." You whined, lip jutting out in the perfect pout.
His eyes flickered down to your lip, teeth baring and resisting the urge to bite your lip. Roll it between his teeth, pull it so he could hear you whine and cry. His cock twitched at the thought, hammering into you.
"Say you were a bad girl." Dean commanded, his free hand gliding down to your mound, fingers ghosting over your puffy lips, purposely avoiding your clit when he knew you were so desperate for him to touch you there- knew it would send you over the edge. "Say it."
"I-I was...a bad girl.” You sobbed, his pointer finger pressing on your clit, rubbing just enough to have you bucking in his arms, legs shaking and flooding his cock, overtook by your own orgasm.
Dean held you while you shook, slow rocks of his hips until your eyes were glassy, body still shuddering with aftershocks. "There she is. There's my bad fuckin' girl." Dean grinned, lying you against the pillows, sprawled out and whimpering.
His hips ground slow against you, feeling your spasming clenches, hearing the wet squelch that filled the room. "Can you be good for me?” Dean tilted his head to the side, tapping your cheek lightly to look at him, hovered above you with piercing eyes and flushed cheeks.
You nodded like you were high on drugs, muttering some sort of agreed nonsense. Dean snorted lightly. "My sweet girl…” He mumbled softly, looking down at you with loving eyes as all of his frustration cleared away.
tags: @urloveada @floralscented @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @ultravi0lence14 @beausling @figthoughts @deansbeer @deanangel @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @haunteres @vampteeths @rafespreciosa @frosttbitessam @drewstarkeyzwhore @inspiredangel @pointocean @chevroletdean @checkedoutghost
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester smut#dean winchester drabble#supernatural#spn#jensen ackles
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Hi can you write a headcanon of the mouthwashing characters reaction to the reader having a bad dream? The reader can be any gender, thank you!!! ���
Mouthwashing X GN Reader Headcanons–Having A Bad Dream
content: just fluff and cuddles
author’s note: I hope you like this one😁This was so fun to work on
Daisuke
You startle him when you wake up abruptly
“Whas happenin’?” He asks sluggishly
“Sorry, Dai. I just had a…really bad dream,”you tell him
“Hey, don’t apologise for that. Are you alright?”
You shake your head, prompting him to embrace you tightly
“It’s all over now, alright? It wasn’t real”
He holds you close to him and kisses your forehead
“Well, I had a pretty good dream. Wanna hear it?”
He told you all about it just to distract you from the bad thoughts and help you fall asleep again
Sure enough it works and you fall back asleep to the sound of his voice, basking in the warmth that his body provides against yours
Anya
She gently shakes you awake when she hears you crying softly in your sleep
“It’s okay, my love. It was just a dream”
Her voice is so soft and sweet. It puts you at ease almost immediately
“You’re safe now”
She strokes your hair and caresses your face to comfort you
If you request, she’ll play some music for you from your shared playlist
You fall back asleep in no time with her arms wrapped around you
Curly
He wakes up and sees you faced away from him
Still half asleep, he wraps his arms around you and brings you to his chest. That’s when he realises that you’re crying
“What’s wrong, love?”he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face
“I…I had a horrible dream,”you respond
He turns you toward him so he can see your face. He swipes his thumb across your cheek to catch any falling tears
“It’s OK. I’m here, darling. I’m right here”
He rubs your back, soothing you and bringing you back to the present
“Just wake me up if you have another nightmare, alright? I’ll be right here”
That was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep. You slept peacefully for the rest of the night in his arms
Swansea
He’s a very heavy sleeper, so you gently jostle him awake after you wake up from your nightmare
“Hm? Something wrong?”
You nod. “Just had a terrible dream”
Though he’s slightly annoyed that he had been woken up, he still sympathises
He can’t stand seeing his lover upset or distressed
Offers you water and the TV remote in case you don’t feel like going back to sleep
If you choose to stay up, he’ll gladly watch a comforting show or movie with you until you feel better
If not he’ll cuddle you and maybe talk to you until you fall back asleep
Jimmy
He stirs awake from you quietly crying
“What’s wrong, baby?”
He sits up and hugs you from behind, resting his weary head on your shoulder
“Just had a really bad dream,”you manage to say in between sobs
“Awww, come ‘ere” He turns you around to face him, allowing you to embrace him and bury your face into his chest
“Wanna talk about it?” he offers
You shake your head, not ready to tell him just yet. He was definitely curious, but he didn’t want to keep prodding
He encourages you to lay back down, not letting go of your for even a second
He kisses the top of your head as you fall back asleep
#polle would just call you a baby and go sleep on the couch#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke headcanons#daisuke x reader#anya mouthwashing#anya headcanons#anya x reader#curly mouthwashing#curly headcanons#curly x reader#swansea mouthwashing#swansea headcanons#swansea x reader#jimmy mouthwashing#jimmy headcanons#jimmy x reader#gn reader#fluff#request#thecadaver
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-Some comfort.
A/n: Hi!! This is my first written piece and I’m sorry if it’s bad lol, any tips to write better is appreciated! <3
-no use of y/n, cs I hate that personally. I’m new to the tumblr thing so i apologize if it’s bad. Gn!reader, I don’t think I put any specific pronouns into this, but then again I didn’t proofread it, so apologies in advance.
Pairing- Chishiya shuntarou x reader <3
—“Seems like we’ve lost our partner.”
Chishiya hums,his voice calm and smooth as it always is,but you can catch the small clear glimpse of disappointment in it.
“You were too kind for a game like this, ippei.” He mumbles under his breath, staring at the body of his now dead partner on the floor of his solitary confinement cell, his head exploded off from the collar-blood all over the place. But because of his experience of being a med student, the blood didn’t really bother him-like anything bothered him, really. He was always as calm as a swimming pool.
But for you it was different. It bothered you-a whole lot. Throughout this stupid game you had grown to like ippei, having the thought that he would make it out of this game, like you and chishiya. But he didn’t.
Sniffles coming from chishiya’s side caught his attention, letting out a small hum and turning his head to look at you, hands casually shoved into the pockets of his white jacket.
There you stood beside him, eyes staring down at the scene in front of you, chest lightly heaving as your eyes are already tear filled, your bottom lip trembling as you try to not let any tears fall. His eyes analyze you, watching thoughtfully as he sees the way your fingers twitch at your sides, your eyes slightly wide and pupils slightly dilated. Clearly on the verge of having a breakdown, about to turn into a sobbing mess.
Everything sounds like it’s underwater in your ears, the voices of the other players down the hall are muffled, along with the sound of your breathing, for once even your thoughts are silent. Not even realizing how tears start to stream down your cheeks, unable to tear your eyes away from the body on the floor-the sight of his blood making you feel sick. You couldn’t help it..you knew that ippei killed himself cause he didn’t want to play anymore.
He truly was too sweet for this messed up place, you and chishiya both knew that.
“It’s unfortunate, I know.” Chishiya mumbles as he looks at you, shifting his feet to face you, slightly raising an eyebrow as you don’t move. He’s actually starting to grow concerned about you, he knew you’d cry-but not break like this, it was almost unnerving how you were just standing there.
He says your name, not once, but twice, but it’s as if you couldn’t hear him. It’s only when he lightly grasps onto your shoulder that you turn to look at him, sputtering out a ‘huh?’.
Before he can get a word out you cut him off with a small sob, your hands lifting to wipe your tears, you didn’t like crying, he knew that. He couldn’t help but notice how hard your hands were being with your face, wiping the flowing tears so hard that your cheeks are starting to turn red from the constant touching.
“I-I thought we had it under control…I thought we were all getting out of here together—“ you mutter out to chishiya between sniffles, your body starting to slightly tremble as you try to comfort yourself by wrapping one of your arms around your abdomen while the other continues to stay wiping your cheeks.
He doesn’t let you say another word, unusually bringing a hand out to you and placing it on your shoulder in a soothing manner, trying to be comforting to you. And it was working, honestly.
“He was too kind for this game, but we still have eachother, right?” He hums, just letting you cry, watching as you nod your head in reply, mumbling under your breath. He couldn’t understand your mumbling, but he doesn’t mention it.
To be honest, this was a little heartbreaking to watch. To him, you were too kind for this world to, just like ippei, even though it hasn’t screwed you over yet. He didn’t want it to either. You were too nice, too pure, too kind. He saw how you comforted other players during the game, or another game he met you in a while ago-a spades one to be exact. The same one he met Arisu, tag.
He saw how you dove towards someone else to save them from the tagger and their gun, almost getting yourself killed in the process-but the grin you flashed the lady made it worth it to you. But this was your breaking point, it seems. But he can’t blame you, who knows the amount of people you’ve seen die in these games.
“We’ll get through this. We’re smart aren’t we?” He says with a slight smirk, but it falters slightly as he sees it doesn’t work on you like it has before.
“For ippei?” He draws on, slightly raising an eyebrow at you, and huffs out a breath as he watched you lift your head and nod your head, mumbling back, finally getting your breath back.“For ippei..”
He then just lift his hand to your hair and lightly ruffles it and places it back on your shoulder, guiding you away from the scene. And you let him, knowing you both would protect eachother from now on, you both wanting to get out of this game.
#alice in borderland#alice in boderland x reader#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya alice in borderland#chishiya x reader#chishiya x you#aib x reader#aib chishiya#nijiro murakami#arisu ryohei#fanfic#chishiya x fem!reader#chishiya smut#chishiya#shuntaro chishiya x reader#shuntaro chishiya
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ten years (so sad) …. now what’s that you said about him dying and no one knows for 20-30 years…. 👀
(please please please i need more angst 🙏)
honestly i have no excuse except i wanted to write Tommy's pov and you wanted a longer coma-ish sorry no death (i couldn't)... but this is still way too sad even for me :)...
No MCD, but there is an OC death. / Heavy Angst :)
The first time Tommy realized he wasn’t dead—really knew he was still alive—was after what must have been weeks. Maybe a month. A nurse brushed his arm during a bed change, and he felt it. Faint, like a whisper on his skin, but enough to flood him with hope. He tried to speak, tried to move, but his body betrayed him. His voice was a phantom, his muscles silent.
The nurse left, oblivious.
He wanted to scream. He tried to scream.
Nothing.
After some time—Tommy couldn’t know exactly how much, a couple of months, maybe less or more—Buck showed up. Tommy thought, How…? But the question faded as quickly as it came. Instead, a warmth spread through him, a quiet, desperate relief.
Buck showed up almost every day. Tommy figured Buck must come whenever he wasn’t on shift. He could hear Buck’s voice, steady and warm, as he talked about everything and anything to fill the silence. He talked about Maddie having another baby, about Eddie moving back to El Paso for a while, and then coming back with Christopher.
Sometimes Buck would cry, his voice breaking as he whispered, “Please, Tommy, just wake up. Please.”
Those moments tore Tommy apart. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to wipe away Buck’s tears, to tell him he was still here. But his body refused to cooperate. All he could do was listen, helpless, as Buck poured his heart out beside him.
A year passed.
Tommy didn’t know how he kept track of time, but he felt it move around him.
The nurses would mention dates in passing, news reports played faintly on TV screens in the hallway, and Buck still came. Once or twice a week, like clockwork, Buck sat by his side, talking about the firehouse, Maddie, Jee-Yun, her sister, and the world outside. Tommy tried to listen, to hang on to those words. They were all he had.
But he also noticed the changes. Buck didn’t stay as long as he used to. Sometimes his visits were rushed, his words distracted. Tommy wanted to shout, Don’t go yet. I’m here! I’m still here!
But he couldn’t.
Five years passed.
The visits became less frequent. Buck came once a month now, bringing flowers that always wilted before the next visit. Tommy learned to brace himself for the quiet. He spent his days locked inside his own mind, desperate for some way to communicate, to show anyone that he wasn’t gone. The staff—the nurses, physical therapists, doctors—anyone… But especially Buck.
Whenever Buck came, he brought a presence to the room that Tommy clung to. He talked about everything: the 118’s updates, Maddie’s growing family, Eddie and Chris, and especially Alex, the little boy he had adopted last year. Buck’s voice lit up when he spoke about Alex—how he was starting to babble, how he smiled the brightest at bedtime stories, how he loved to play with his stuffed animals.
Tommy loved hearing about him. He loved Alex, even though he’d never met him. He clung to those stories like lifelines.
One day, Buck sat down heavily in the chair beside him, his voice quieter than usual. “I met someone,” he said, his words hesitant. “Her name is Amelia. She’s… she’s great Tommy. You’d like her.”
Tommy’s heart shattered, but he couldn’t blame Buck. What else was he supposed to do? They weren’t together when this happened. They hadn’t been for months. He shouldn’t have even hoped. Buck deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with him. And Tommy had no right to feel like this—no right to feel the ache that settled deep in his chest.
Still, the words haunted him long after Buck left.
Ten years passed.
Buck came every three months now, sometimes less. Tommy had given up trying to track the days. He spent most of his time floating in and out of awareness, only rousing when someone touched him or adjusted his position. The staff rarely spoke to him except to comment on his care. He was just another body to them.
The next time Buck visited, his smile was softer, his voice lighter. “I married her,” he said, raising his hand instinctively to show the ring, even though Tommy couldn’t see it. But somehow, Tommy felt it. “Amelia. She’s amazing, Tommy. She’s good for me.”
Tommy’s chest ached, but also, he was happy for Buck. Genuinely happy. Buck deserved this, deserved someone who could be there for him—though he couldn’t move a muscle to show it. He wondered what Amelia was like, what it would feel like to meet her. But all he could do was listen as Buck described a life he would never be part of.
Buck stayed longer this time, the warmth in his voice pulling Tommy out of the haze he lived in most days. “Oh, and uh… I’m a captain now,” Buck said, almost shyly, as though he didn’t want to brag. “Took me long enough, huh? Bobby always said I’d get there. I wish you could’ve been there, Tommy. You would’ve laughed at the whole thing. I was so nervous.” He chuckled softly, the sound tugging at something deep inside Tommy.
Tommy wanted to tell him, Good job, Evan. You deserve that. I’m so proud of you. The words sat heavy in his chest, unsaid and unheard.
A few visits later, Buck shared something that lit up the room. “Amelia’s pregnant,” he said, his happiness spilling into the space like sunlight. “We’re having a baby, Tommy. Can you believe it? Me—a dad again.” He laughed lightly, and Tommy could almost picture the sparkle in his eyes. “I hope the kid turns out as awesome as Alex.”
Tommy was happy for Buck. He truly was. He just wanted to be part of it somehow, maybe in some small way he already was. But he wanted Buck to know—really know—how happy Tommy was for him. How much he wished he could say it, could share in this joy with him.
Fifteen years passed.
Buck’s visits came twice a year now. He still talked, but not as much. There were longer silences as he sat by the bed, looking at Tommy with guilt in his eyes. “Amelia and I… we had a little girl,” he said during one visit. “Her name’s Emma. She’s five now.”
Emma. Tommy committed the name to memory, repeating it over and over in his mind like a prayer. He imagined her laugh, her tiny hands. Did she have Evan’s eyes? His curls? Or maybe she had a birthmark just like him… His thoughts lingered. Maybe she looked like her mother.
He wanted to say, Tell me more. Don’t stop talking about her. But Buck’s voice trailed off, and the silence stretched between them.
Years continued to pass, and when Buck visited again, his voice carried the weight of something Tommy couldn’t place. Alex was 14 now, and Emma was 8. Buck sat heavily in the chair beside him, his words slow and uneven. “She left, Tommy,” he said quietly, his hands wringing together. “Another person left me. I know this time it isn’t anyone’s fault… but this hurts.”
Tommy’s heart twisted, confusion and worry gnawing at him. Who left? Buck didn’t say, and the silence that followed felt different—deeper, darker. He tried to reach out, to say anything, but his body stayed still, his voice trapped.
Frustration bubbled up in Tommy’s chest, followed by a wave of hot, searing anger. Why? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I tell him I’m here? He raged silently, cursing his own body, the years of silence, the cruel trap he was locked in. He wanted to scream, to reach out and shake Buck, to demand answers, to comfort him, to do something. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing.
The anger simmered as Buck sat there, quiet and heavy with grief. Who left, Evan? he thought frantically. What happened? I’m so sorry, Evan. Please, talk to me. Over and over, Tommy repeated the words in his mind, desperately wishing Buck could hear them. He didn’t understand what had happened, but he wanted to comfort Buck, to take away even a fraction of the pain he could feel radiating off him.
But Buck didn’t say anything more. He sat quietly for a while, then stood and placed a hand gently on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’ll see you soon,” he said softly before walking out of the room.
Tommy was left with his thoughts, his heart breaking for Buck. Whatever had happened, Tommy wanted Buck to know he wasn’t alone—even if he couldn’t tell him.
And then, as always, the helplessness crept back in, wrapping around him like chains. He was powerless, and that hurt almost as much as whatever Buck was going through.
Twenty-two years passed.
When Tommy finally woke up, it wasn’t dramatic—no gasp of air or miraculous surge of energy. His eyes simply opened, his body heavy and alien, and his first breath was shallow and labored. The nurse beside him gasped, calling for a doctor as Tommy’s gaze slowly wandered around the room. It was brighter than he imagined, and the world felt distant, blurry.
It took days for Tommy to understand just how much time had passed. He couldn’t walk. His muscles were too weak, his body unrecognizable. His reflection in the mirror was a stranger—lines etched deep into his face, his hair thin and gray.
The days that followed were a blur of tests and therapies. His muscles were too weak to move much, and his voice cracked like old paper when he tried to speak.
The doctor explained everything—how long he’d been in the care facility, the complications, and how much time had passed.
It wasn’t until the door opened, and Buck stepped inside, that it truly sank in.
Buck was older now, his face lined and his shoulders broader. His hair had streaks of silver, and his movements were slower but steady. He carried himself with a confidence that hadn’t been there before, though his eyes carried something else—something heavier. He looked just as Tommy knew he would—familiar in a way that was both comforting and heartbreaking.
Tommy couldn’t speak much yet, his throat raw from disuse. But he mustered all the strength he had, letting a faint smile curl across his lips. “Hey,” he rasped, the words barely audible.
Buck froze, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his chest. He blinked rapidly, his hands trembling as they curled into fists at his sides. “H-hey,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. He was holding back tears, but Tommy could see how close he was to breaking.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, two men who had been separated by time and silence. Buck pulled a chair closer and sat down, reaching out to rest a hand lightly on the edge of Tommy’s bed. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum and beeps of the machines tommy still needed.
After a long pause, Tommy rasped out, “She… left?”
Buck frowned slightly, confused. “What?” he asked, his voice unsure, like he didn’t quite remember. For him, he said that line years ago—he couldn’t know that for Tommy, it was as vivid as yesterday.
Tommy hummed softly, gathering strength. “You said… she left. Who?”
The realization hit Buck slowly, he sat back slightly, as though reaching into a distant memory. “Oh…” His shoulders sank, and his eyes grew impossibly sad. “Amelia—uh… my wife,” he said quietly, almost stumbling over the words, his voice hollow. “She died… a car accident.”
Tommy’s eyes softened, filled with sorrow. His throat ached as he struggled to speak, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “Must’ve been… hard.”
Buck’s head shot up at that, his brows furrowing. He stared at Tommy, almost disbelieving, his lips parting in surprise. It was hard. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever gone through. Losing Amelia had left him a widower, his kids without their mother. It had left a hole he still carried, even now. But for a moment, he couldn’t process that Tommy—frail and still recovering from decades of silence—was the one trying to comfort him.
A faint, disbelieving laugh escaped him, almost reflexive. He shook his head, his voice soft and tinged with disbelief. “Are you really saying that?” he whispered, a sad smile tugging at his lips.
And then he froze, his breath catching as his eyes widened. His voice faltered when he spoke again. “Wait… y-you… you heard?”
Tommy nodded faintly, a small, almost fragile smile on his lips. “Everything,” he rasped, the word carrying the weight of decades.
And it hit Buck—all at once. Everything. Tommy had heard it all. The stories about Alex and Emma, the confessions, the heartbreak, the joy, the grief. Twenty-two years of words poured into a void Buck had thought was empty, but Tommy had been there the whole time, trapped and silent. Listening. Always listening.
The realization broke something in Buck. His face crumpled as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, one hand covering his mouth as the first sob escaped him. His shoulders shook as he cried, the weight of twenty-two years crashing down on him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Tommy wanted to reach out, to tell him it was okay, but his body still wouldn’t cooperate. All he could do was whisper again, “Evan, it’s okay. I’m here now.”
But for Buck, the guilt and pain of all those years spent talking to someone he thought couldn’t hear him—and the thought of what Tommy must have felt, locked inside his own body—was too much. He thought how he had left Tommy alone longer and longer over the years, how his visits had decreased while Tommy was still there, still listening, still waiting.
He stayed there for a moment, head in his hands, as Tommy lay quietly, his faint smile never wavering.
Then Buck quickly wiped his face, taking a deep, steadying breath. He began to talk to Tommy about things—about Alex, about Emma, about life in general. He spoke softly, a little hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure where to start or how much Tommy could take. But he kept going, filling the space with the sound of his voice, just like he always had.
As Buck stood to leave, he turned back toward Tommy and leaned down slightly. “I’ll help you,” he said firmly. “No matter what, I’ll be here whenever I can. I promise.” He paused, his voice softening. “I’ll bring Alex and Emma to visit. They know you, Tommy. They love you.”
That lit something small in Tommy’s face—a faint glimmer in his eyes, the tiniest upward curve of his lips. He nodded weakly, his voice hoarse as he whispered, “Thanks.”
But later, when the room was empty again, and he was alone again… Tommy stared at the ceiling, his chest aching, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. He thought about the years he’d spent hiding behind lies, about the fleeting years when he’d finally embraced who he was, and about the decades he’d spent trapped in silence, invisible to the world.
He’d lost so much time. Too much time.
And now he didn’t know if he’d ever get any of it back.
Thirty-three years pretending. Seven years living. Twenty-two years lost.
What was left for him now?
#but hey listen after lots of PT and therapy he manages to live happily okay?#also of course Evan Buckley wouldn't have it that easy something must happen... keeping things true to the character 😶🌫️#okay bye#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#*
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heavenly way to,
hyunju x gn!reader
genre: angst comfort, established relationship. » warnings: death, blood, mentions of injuries, murder, firearms, canon divergence. » note: yes i’m back to writing for the series that basically started this blog. hello! i love her.
synopsis: Is sacrifice for your lover a gift to be grateful for, or a burden worth being cursed for? The thought grows heavy on your mind the longer you spend in the games.
“Why?”
Hyunju’s voice has never sounded so broken. She’s too astounded to even think of not letting her guard down, simply weak and vulnerable as she stares up at you. The shake in that one word, the sickening concern in her eyes— It almost makes you regret what just happened.
Almost.
“Because I care about you more than—”
“Nevermind…” she scoffs, eyes widening. She presses her lips together but it doesn’t stop the tremble of a sob waiting to escape her throat. Her gaze averts to a wall in the dormitory, silently putting a stop to whatever you were going to say.
You decide to give her space.
The bathrooms are empty, leaving you silence and space for thinking. You look at your reflection in the mirror, the blood on your face and neck. You did not kill anyone. You assured your safety. You did not kill someone. They were a problem. The thought repeats steadily in your mind as you turn on the faucet, letting water flow into your palms.
It’s as if you can see the overflowing blood on your hands, still. That player you fought to throw out of that room, the sight of the bullet shooting through their head once the door finally locked, the weight of their grip of the other the side of the handle loosening until a thud confirmed the end of a life. But they were in the spot she needed. You could not risk it. What if she had died? It was only right.
The blood washes off. The thought remains. You aren’t sure how long you spend staring at the mirror, barely even really looking at your reflection. You just know you’re asked to return to the dormitory, and that you go to bed, then the lights turn off.
You think Hyunju hates you.
You thought she would come to hate you here over trying to protect her, maybe. Now you realize, now that the blood is there, that she could simply hate you for taking away someone’s life— Even if indirectly. It makes sense to hate a now-murderer.
Yes.
Then, if she hates you, you’ll be able to sacrifice yourself for her sake if need be without wondering how well she’ll take the loss—
“Don’t just disappear.” A familiar soft voice speaks behind you. Hyunju’s arms circle around your waist and her head presses gently into your nape. She’s so warm. You almost forget your train of thoughts.
Once it comes back to you, your expression pulls into confusion. “Sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t think you would mind.”
“Were you trying to give me space?”
“Yeah.”
She sighs, but hugs you tighter. “Because I was angry? Angry that you got yourself in so much unnecessary danger for my sake? Try making some sense.”
Your body relaxes into her hold before you even realize it, and soon, you’re turning over to look at her. She just seems a bit sad. Your hand slowly moves to her face and cradles her cheek, caressing the skin with care. “I pushed someone straight to their death and you’re telling me you were mad because I was in danger?”
She doesn’t respond, simply pursing her lips. A silent yeah. Exactly that.
“In danger? Me?”
“One second off and they could’ve switched you out of the room. And then I would have been alone with someone who practically killed you. And that would have been it. No more you at all,” she explains, and her voice begins shaking, “No more— I wouldn’t see your face anymore, wouldn’t have you with me, wouldn’t have the knowledge you’re there for me when life fucks me over— Think about it, come on.”
She’s trying so hard not to cry and stay quiet you wonder how much it must hurt. So you were wrong. It isn’t at all that person’s death that made her look at you this way. It’s somehow even worse.
You turn fully to return her embrace, hugging her firmly and kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t risk dying for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
She hides her face in your neck. “I love you.”
She says it with every single fiber of her being. After all, her touch, her tears, her words before this— They’re all marks of love. You feel her hand brushing over your arm, an injury you earned yourself during that game. She traces it gently and you think you could never promise her not to die for her.
“I love you too.”
#cho hyunju x reader#cho hyun jun x reader#squid game x reader#hyunju x reader#hyun ju x reader#x reader
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Second Take pt 3
Master List
Characters: Jensen x Reader, Karl Urban, Eric Kripke, other characters from the set of The Boys
Warnings: Angst, mention of divorce, soft smut (nothing too graphic…yet 😉)
A/N: Jensen and Reader are together and share a vulnerable moment. They decide to keep their relationship a secret for now. Before filming starts, the reader gets ready to fly back to Texas with Jensen. Jensen and Danneel decide to tell the kids.
This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.
Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.
Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform.
Minors DNI 18+
The next few days Jensen and I worked on mending our relationship. We made the decision to keep our relationship private for now. We didn’t want any problems for Danneel, Jensen or the kids, especially the kids.
Since we hadn’t started filming yet, Jensen was flying back to Texas so he and Danneel could tell the kids about the divorce. I could tell he was nervous.
I pulled him close to me and wrapped my arms around his waist, “Babe, it’s going to be okay. I’m sure there will be tears and lots of questions, but with you and D as a united front on this, they will be okay.
I looked up at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Come home with me.” I looked up at him with shock in my eyes, “What?” “Come home with me, back to Texas. I’m staying in a hotel and you and I can spend time together. It would mean so much to me to have you there. I’ll get you your own room so it doesn’t raise suspicion. You can visit Moose too. I know he and Gen would love to see you.”
“Can I think about it? I really don’t want to cause problems or make D uncomfortable.” He smirked. “What’s so funny, Ackles?” His lips ghosted mine, “You are. You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. You being concerned about D proves my point.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips but pulled away before it got too heavy.
We decided to wait to have sex. We didn’t put a time frame on it, but we knew we didn’t want to rush it. It was damn near impossible to resist him and he knew it.
The night before he was leaving Jensen and I were spending a quiet evening at my place. We ordered some food and we were going to hang out and watch a movie. At least that was the plan.
We ordered the food and were getting comfortable on the couch. When Jensen’s phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from Danneel.
“Sorry babe, I need to take this.” I nodded and stood up to give him some privacy.
I walked in the kitchen as he answered, it was JJ.
“Hey JJ. How are you, baby?” She sniffled, “Daddy are you coming home?”
“Yes baby, why? I’ll be home tomorrow.” She looked at Jensen and got quiet. “Baby, it’s okay. What happened?” “Uncle Gino came over cause mommy was crying and I heard them talking about you and mommy told Uncle Gino you had a girlfriend and you weren’t coming home.”
Jensen’s jaw clenched and he ran his fingers through his hair. I stood leaning against the counter in shock. I couldn’t believe she’d do that.
“Baby I promise I’ll be home tomorrow. We have some things to talk about, but I promise I will be there. Where’s your mama?”
JJ sighed and smiled a little bit at him. “She’s downstairs with Uncle Gino. I took her phone to call you.” “It’s okay baby girl. Can you take the phone to mommy? I want to talk to her.” “Okay, Daddy. I love you.” “I love you too, baby.”
My heart clenched in my chest. Being with Jensen is so easy and it’s sometimes easy to forget he has children and a life outside our little bubble.
“Hey Jensen.” I could hear her. “Danneel, I thought we agreed to tell the kids together and before we told anyone else?”
“We did. I haven’t told the kids anything.” “No, but you told Gino and JJ heard you. You told him I had a girlfriend?! What the hell D?!”
I couldn’t see them, but I knew Jensen was mad. “Well it’s the truth. You do have a girlfriend.” “D don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t have a boyfriend yourself. Yeah, I know all about him and how he’s been coming over for a few months after I leave and the kids go to sleep or school.”
“How did you know?!” “Cameras, D.”
She gasped, “Jens, I can explain.”
The doorbell rang and I walked to open the door. As I walked past I saw Jensen hold his hand up, “Stop Danneel. I don’t care about your boyfriend, but you’re not going to turn yourself into the victim here. We are moving forward with the divorce, we are telling our children together and we will coexist peacefully regardless of who we have in our lives. Our children deserve that.”
“I’ll talk to JJ and try to explain what I can. When are you getting in tomorrow?”
Jensen let out a sigh, “My plane lands about 9 in the morning. I’ll go check into the hotel and head to the house.”
“Jens, why are you staying in a hotel?” “D I think it would be best if I didn’t stay at the house.”
“Jensen, don’t be like that. I think you should stay here for the sake of the kids. We’re about to tell them their parents are splitting up. You don’t think that’s going to be hard on them?”
Jensen ran his hand down his face and sighed, “I know it’s going to be hard on them, hell it’s hard on me, I just don’t want them to be confused if I’m still staying at the house.”
“Jens, stay in the guestroom. They are going to need both of us.” “Fine, I’ll stay at home.”
I gasped softly in the kitchen when I heard him. I was planning on going with him, but now was it worth me going if he was staying with her?
My heart clenched in my chest and the familiar feeling of jealousy started to creep in my mind. He loves me. He wants to be with me. They are done, but they have a history together. She’s the mother of his children. She’s beautiful.
Tears pricked my eyes. I was worried and didn’t know how to tell him.
I heard him groan as he stood and I heard his heavy steps coming towards the kitchen.
I quickly wiped my eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. My back to the door as Jensen came into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me flush to his chest.
Jensen moved my hair away from my neck and placed a soft kiss to my pulse point. “Hey, sorry about that.” “It’s fine. Is JJ okay?” “Yeah, she heard D telling Gino about the divorce.”
I nodded, “I’m glad she’s okay.” My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to. Jensen picked up on it and turned me to face him. I lowered my head, a lump formed in my throat.
He tilted my chin up, “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong baby?” I took in a shaky breath and let it out. “I don’t think I’m going to go with you. I’d just be in the way.”
Jensen’s brows furrowed, “What? No, you wouldn’t be. D and I will tell the kids and then we will figure out what to do from there.” “I heard you, Jensen. You’re staying at the house. If you’re with the kids I don’t want to take time away from them. I know I could go visit Jared and Gen, but I can’t stay there with them all day and all night. You need to focus on your children, not me. I love you Jensen, I can’t keep you from taking care of them. You go and I’ll stay here.”
Jensen’s face fell. “I understand, but I really want you to be there. I know I’m staying at the house, but I would still come to the hotel and be with you.” I scoffed. The sad and angry feeling in my chest grew.
Jensen looked at me, “What? Why did you scoff?” Jensen’s eyes searching mine for answers.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. I feel like a dirty secret. I know we agreed to keep our relationship between us for now, but you were mine first. You should have married me, those children should be mine! Damnit Jensen, she’s taken everything from me and now I can’t even be with you. I have to stay in a hotel room and wait for you to return to me like I’m a cheap whore. I’m worth more than that. I DESERVE more than that. I would never do anything to hurt your children. They didn’t ask to be born and they deserve so much. I just want to feel like I’m worthy of your time and love too.”
The tears I had been holding started to fall heavy and fast. My chest heaving. The anger and hurt from the past 13 years finally boiling over.
Jensen pulled me tight in his arms and held me. I sobbed into his chest. “Baby you’re not a dirty secret, and you’re right I should be married to you, but I’m not. I made a choice all those years ago, but baby I’m making one now and it’s you. It will always be you. You’re not a cheap whore, you’re the love of my life, my soulmate, my home. I never stopped loving you and I never will. If you don’t want to go home with me I understand. I want you to go, but it’s your choice.”
He gently wiped the tears away and kissed my forehead. My breath hitched as I held him tighter.
“Jensen, I think you should go. I need some space. Some time to think and I can’t do that with you here.” A lump formed in my throat and my heart broke.
Jensen pulled back a little and looked in my eyes. His green eyes filled with hurt and sadness, “Y/N, please don’t push me away. We can figure this out, but only if we do it together.”
I shook my head, “I know, but I need time Jensen.” He nodded, “I understand. I love you, Y/N. Call me when you’re ready to talk.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips, grabbed his stuff and left.
I stood in the spot I was in frozen and couldn’t move. The familiar feeling of him leaving all those years again was filling my heart and soul.
I pulled out my phone, ready to call anyone who would listen when I heard a knock on the door.
I walked over, opened the door and gasped, “Jensen?!” He stepped in, dropped his bag and pulled me to him, crashing his lips on mine.
When he pulled away he cupped my face, “I made the mistake of not fighting for you all those years ago and I’m not going to do it again. I love you and you’re in my life for the rest of it. I don’t care who sees us or what anyone has to say about it. I’m going to tell the kids tomorrow with Danneel about the divorce and then I’m coming back to the hotel to be with you. If the kids want to come they can, but I’m not letting you go again. I’m not letting us go again. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. Now and forever.”
I stood in stunned silence. The pain I was feeling started to heal a little. He was choosing me, choosing us and damn it felt good. I kissed him softly. “What about Danneel?” “I’ll tell her it’s not a good idea for me to stay there and offer to let the kids come to the hotel if they want to. I don’t want them to be confused about me staying there after we tell them we are splitting up. I’ll look for a place in Texas so the kids can have a place when I come home. Better yet, we should look for a place in Texas. A place for us and the kids. What do you say? Let’s find a place in Texas and move in together.”
I looked stunned, “Jens, this is all happening so fast. Let’s slow down a bit. You find a place in Texas, and if and when I decide to move it with you I will just move into your place. I can help you find a place if you want.”
He nodded, “Okay, I understand. I just don’t want to waste any more time when it comes to our relationship.” I placed my hands on his chest, “We aren’t wasting time, we are learning how to be together again. As long as we’re together it doesn’t matter if we live under the same roof or not. I think we shouldn’t live together until your divorce is final.”
Jensen agreed. “Will you at least still come to Texas with me tomorrow?” “Yes, Jensen. I’d love to.”
He smiled, pulled me close and kissed me. The kiss deepened quickly. Before either of us could process what was happening we were laying on the bed making out.
My heart hammered in my chest, our eyes dark with lust. Jensen’s lips ghosted mine, “Do you want to stop?” I took a deep breath, “No. I’m ready, Jensen.”
Jensen’s hands slowly removed my clothes and then his. Goosebumps erupted on my skin due to the chilly air and the anticipation.
His lips ghosting over my body and making my breath catch in my throat. “Do you want more, baby?” I moaned and nodded. “Use your words sweetheart.” “Yes, Jensen. Please make love to me. Take me now.”
Jensen’s body hovered over mine as he finally took me. I grabbed the sheets and gasped as he filled and stretched me with every inch he had to offer.
I had forgotten how amazing he felt. Our bodies moved in perfect sync and the sounds that filled my bedroom were like silent prayers to heaven. About an hour later Jensen was laying on his back and I was on his chest. His fingers drew delicate patterns on my skin.
“That was incredible, Y/N. God I missed you.” “Yes it was, Jensen. I missed you too. I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I haven’t really dealt with the pain of the past.”
“Shh, no, don’t apologize. You have every right to still be angry. I’m glad you were able to get some of that out. I’m sure you’re still holding on to some more. I just hope one day you will be able to get it out.”
“Honestly the only thing I’m still holding on to is the loss of our baby. When you left I figured if I had our baby at least I’d still have a piece of you, of our love with me. Then I lost the baby and I just felt so alone. I lost the love of my life, and our baby and it hurt so much.”
His thumb rubbed softly over my cheek, “I am still so sorry you went through that alone. If I knew I would have been by your side. Maybe eventually we could try again. Have a baby of our own, if it’s something you’d want.”
“You’d want another child? You have three already.” “I do, and they are amazing, but I don’t have any with you and I���d love to have at least one with you.”
I smiled softly, “We can talk about it. Just not right now. We need to sleep. We have an early flight. I love you, Jensen. Good night.”
“I love you too, Y/N. Good night.”
He kissed my lips and the two of us relaxed against each other and drifted off to sleep.
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#hes gorgeous#jensen ackles#so damn sexy#jackles#jensen ackles x plus size reader#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles x reader
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“Oh you’re just angry when the disgusting trannies you secretly think are men in dresses are standing up for themselves instead of letting you treat us like doormats” is a thing i see a lot, like no. I wish i had the guts to say “You can stand up for yourself and assert yourself without being an absolute bellend about it, and also way to make hard fast (and incorrect) assumptions about me and my thoughts on my trans sisters just because I said you should not immediately jump to assuming harm or being a standoffish bellend when you can handle things with more tact and emotional control than immediate aggression if not for yourself then for your reputation and those around you” aloud without being so afraid of being labelled a bitchy whiny “tme” (see: one slip from saying the quiet part aloud and calling me a hormonal woman) “upset he’s not the centre of the universe for once” by people who intentionally and maliciously misinterpret what I say for the sake of finding a devil in the details that isn’t there.
I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense, I’m just overall tired of the rising culture of “you can be an asshole to people right out the gate if they’re wrong about something or say something hurtful” that’s prevalent not just in trans spaces but in the internet as a whole. People have conflated assertiveness and self-assurance with being an outright jerk and it makes it next to impossible to communicate anything with anyone without being fucking terrified of a bad actor or coming across wrong and not being given the room to elaborate.
Thank you so much for sending this. I really appreciate it because I agree 100% with this. I've had this exact same feeling for a long time as well.
My issue right now with our communities is not the fact that other trans women are speaking up for themselves, but rather that we've created and environment where being transfem and/or a trans woman means you have the right to be an actual asshole, and that you don't have to hold back from being cruel to other people, even other queer people, if something makes you even slightly emotional or upset. It's gotten to a point where so many transfems will instantly react by screaming and telling other people to shut up and to stop talking and that they are speaking out of turn. it's the default at this point. So many transfems are struggling with this right now. I understand it comes from a place of hurt, but it doesn't make it right.
It's happening in REAL LIFE, too, this is NOT isolated to online communities. A lot of transfems and trans women are fairly heavy internet users, so this behavior exists in both realms. I have experienced this in real life, in person, so it's a huge deal. I've had transfems scream at me for no reason other than I was crying. I've gotten screamed at for crying and being emotional.
We have to call it what it is finally and admit that we're allowing certain transfems and trans women to go way too far and hurt and shut up other people for literally no reason. We're allowing transfems and trans women a pass to be rude assholes for no good reason. No one should be getting a pass to do that. No gender or other queer gives you a pass to be an asshole. No gender or other queer identity gives you a pass to refuse to listen to other queer people and quite literally talk over them. being an asshole doesn't win people over, it just isolates you even more.
By constantly complaining about how transmascs and trans men and intersex people are "talking over us" and trying our hardest to shut them up so we can keep talking, we are the ones who are silencing other people and making the conversation about us all the time. We really are going through an "I am feel upset when we are not about me?" crisis right now in the trans community, and I'm going to break it to every other transfem and trans woman, but it's not trans men who are doing this right now. it's just not. sure there are trans men on a small scale who do it, but we are seeing a large scale effort to actively silence trans men. We are the ones talking over people, and yes it matters. Yes we have to accept criticism for this. Attacking someone and instantly telling them to shut up because the conversation shifted away from yourself is talking over someone else. We are literally talking over trans men and mascs right now. We are the ones doing it on a large scale.
“You can stand up for yourself and assert yourself without being an absolute bellend about it, and also way to make hard fast (and incorrect) assumptions about me and my thoughts on my trans sisters just because I said you should not immediately jump to assuming harm or being a standoffish bellend when you can handle things with more tact and emotional control than immediate aggression if not for yourself then for your reputation and those around you” aloud without being so afraid of being labelled a bitchy whiny “tme” (see: one slip from saying the quiet part aloud and calling me a hormonal woman) “upset he’s not the centre of the universe for once” by people who intentionally and maliciously misinterpret what I say for the sake of finding a devil in the details that isn’t there.
Thank you for this. It's not all transfems and trans women doing this, I will gladly say that. But those who are are showing these behaviors and these behaviors are not only toxic, genuinely damaging, but projection. It's all projection and it's genuinely painful to watch because these specific individuals do not realize that's what they're doing.
The behaviors in question that are genuinely a problem & danger are:
Instantly making negative assumptions about transmascs & trans mens' opinions on transfems and trans women, forcing the transmasc and/or trans man to have to defend themselves, instantly creating hostility and tension from the start of the interaction. This is negging, catastrophizing & black and white thinking.
The transfem and/or trans woman in the situation is expecting the other party to regulate their emotions for them. I've spoken with my therapist about this on a grander scale outside of just transfems and trans women and she told me most people expect others to validate and regulate their emotions for them. This is an extreme example of that behavior.
Demanding control of the situation due to thinking that they/all transfems or trans women are smarter than men, which is just bioessentialism copied and pasted.
Instantaneous misogyny and bioessentialism the second the transfem and/or trans woman finds out someone is a trans man, transmasc, AFAB trans person, AFAB genderqueer, nonbinary, gnc or other gender non conforming person, or intersex person with a vagina. This is one of the biggest issues we are facing in the community right now. A lot of transfems & trans women have tons of internalized misogyny and bioessentialism to get over, and this is an extreme example of that. Not all trans women and transfems believe these things, but the ones participating in these behaviors are struggling hard with internalized misogyny and bio/gender essentialism.
Instantly jumping to calling an AFAB trans person, trans man, transmasc, or other ""TME"" whiny or bitchy is deeply misogynistic. Viewing people with vaginas or who you perceive to have a vagina as bitchy or whiny is an extremely common form of misogyny that's present in cis women as well. Cis women who speak up for themselves are called bitchy. Cis women and trans men who have strong emotions are called whiny. As you pointed out, the logic is quite literally one step away from calling the trans man, trans masc, or other queer person in this group a "hysterical/hormonal woman".
Believing that one is smarter than the other if they have a penis, and the other person has a vagina. The tendency to treat people with vaginas as too stupid to think for themselves, weak, or lying stems from misogyny and toxic masculinity, and yes, transfems and trans women can still hold toxic masculine beliefs and behaviors. No one is immune to toxic masculinity. This is also bioessentialism.
When I moved into a local punk house because I was homeless, a lot of the people who came there frequently and lived there liked me a lot. Flirting with me, trying to hang out with me as much as they could, listening to everything i said, asking for my opinion on things. People had no issues with talking to me and were not rude at all. However, once my trans GF at the time found out I don't have a penis yet, and I have a vagina, she instantly started treating me different. The news spread and soon everyone was treating me differently.
I was now getting talked down to. I was now having my gender mocked and questioned. I was having my disabilities questioned. I was being questioned if I was faking my DID or Schizophrenia even though that never came up before. suddenly, out of nowhere, I was being told by the cis gay man and the amab trans girl i lived with that t hey had "never seen me in a psychotic or dissociative episode" before and that none of my alters are distinct and that i didn't present like i had DID, but the amab trans girl she was dating had "super obvious DID" that "wasn't anything like mine". She would go on and on about that girl's alters and how she obviously noticed when they switched, but then never spent enough time with me to notice when I actually did switch. My GF at the time did at least acknowledge my DID, but other people were challenging it left, right and center.
I could tell I Was being treated like a cis woman. It was painfully obvious. The atmosphere instantly turned sour. There was way more tension than before. The cis gay man I lived with was very misogynistic and seemed to see most trans men as cis women. It's inescapable. This isn't something that just happens online. A lot of transfems, trans women, gay men, and other queer people just do not view trans men as men at all and view us as cis women, no matter how hard we pass or no matter how far we progress in our transition. You can't be a man without a penis, and if you get a penis through surgery it doesn't count because it's "not the same".
People genuinely do treat you worse when they find out you have a vagina or think that you have one. They will start treating you different the moment they find out. And yes, this includes trans women and transfems. It's rampant behavior. I dealt with it with other transfems who showed up as well. There were a lot. It was very painful to feel like an outcast in a very trans space. The reason so many transfems and trans women think that it doesn't happen is because it gets dismissed and erased constantly. Some people genuinely do go out of their way to cover up this behavior. It's not every transfem or trans woman, but this behavior is happening in every corner of the queer community right now.
I don't know if the people who say these things realize, but we see what you are doing. It's really obvious. We seriously aren't as dumb as you think we are. Please get over the internalized misogyny and bioessentialism that tells you to hate people assigned female at birth and people with vaginas. That's just textbook misogyny and bioessentialism.
#asks#answers#transandrophobia#examples of transandrophobia#examples of transradfeminism#examples of misogyny
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he doesn’t make me cry
you’re with someone safe, someone steady—but there’s fred weasley, all smirks and heartbreak, still haunting you. he says he’s sorry. he says he still thinks about you. and maybe, just maybe, that’s the worst part—because you think about him too.
a/n: apologies for the heartbreak guys...
more.
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝
“…and then, of course, jenkins managed to hit himself in the face with the bat. i mean, who even does that?” elliot said, chuckling. you were tucked away in a corner of the three broomsticks with elliot greenwood, your boyfriend, who was in the middle of telling you about a particularly dramatic quidditch practice.
you forced a smile, nodding along, but your eyes kept drifting. just a few tables away sat fred weasley, legs stretched out under the table, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. he was laughing at something george had said, but every now and then, you caught him glancing over—quick, fleeting looks that made your stomach tighten.
fred and you had history. the kind you thought would last forever when you were young and daft enough to believe in happily-ever-afters. you’d been together from fifth year through to seventh, but it all unravelled halfway through that final year. too much pressure, too many fights, and then it was over.
now, months later, you were with elliot. he was kind and steady, the sort of boyfriend everyone said you should want. the kind who never forgot your birthday or made you cry in the middle of the common room.
but then there was fred, all reckless charm and infuriating smirks, still haunting the corners of your mind when you least expected it.
fred stood suddenly, scraping his chair back. you turned your attention back to elliot, who was saying something about broom maintenance, but fred was already heading your way.
you felt your heart drop. “oh, for merlin’s sake,” you muttered under your breath.
fred stopped at your table, hands shoved in his pockets. “alright, greenwood?” he said casually, though his eyes barely flicked to elliot.
“fred,” elliot replied coolly, his grip tightening on your hand.
fred’s gaze settled on you, and he tilted his head towards the door. “fancy a chat?”
your stomach churned. “now?”
“yeah. won’t take long.”
elliot frowned. “we’re in the middle of something, mate.”
fred ignored him, his attention fixed on you. “please.”
you sighed, feeling elliot bristle beside you. “i’ll be quick,” you murmured to him, standing before this turned into more of a scene. “promise.”
fred led you out into the street, the cold air biting against your cheeks. the snow underfoot was turning to slush, and the faint hum of chatter from inside the pub faded as the door swung shut.
“what do you want, fred?” you asked, folding your arms.
he turned to face you, his expression serious now. “i want to talk.”
“about what?” you raised an eyebrow. “we’ve got nothing to say to each other.”
he let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “you don’t think we do?”
“no, i don’t.”
“right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “alright then. let’s make it simple—i’ve got one problem. you’re not mine anymore.”
the words hit you like a bludger to the chest. for a moment, you didn’t know what to say, the world narrowing to just fred and that stupid, broken look on his face.
“i’m with elliot,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt.
“yeah, i know,” fred said, his tone turning bitter. “lucky bloke, isn’t he?”
you swallowed hard, refusing to let him get under your skin. “he is.”
fred’s eyes softened slightly, and he took a step closer. “does he make you laugh?”
the question caught you off guard. “what?”
“does he make you laugh?” fred repeated, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.
you stared at him, the memories rushing back—laughing until your sides hurt in the common room, him sneaking you chocolate frogs during exams, his arm around your shoulders as he teased you about your terrible potions skills.
but then there were the fights. the tears. the hollow ache of being let down over and over.
“no,” you said finally. “but he doesn’t make me cry, either.”
fred froze, the weight of your words settling between you like a thick fog. for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground.
“that’s fair,” he said quietly. “i suppose that’s fair.”
you crossed your arms tighter, trying to ignore the way your chest ached. “you don’t get to do this, fred. you don’t get to say all this now, when it’s too late.”
“i know i messed up,” he said quickly, his voice rough. “but i thought i was giving you what you wanted, you know? space, time to breathe. i didn’t think—”
“you didn’t think,” you interrupted sharply. “that’s the problem, fred. you never think about anyone but yourself.”
“that’s not true,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “i thought about you. i still think about you—every bloody day.”
the anger drained out of you, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “well, maybe you should stop.”
fred stared at you, his jaw tightening. “is that what you want?”
you hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. finally, you shook your head. “it doesn’t matter what i want. i’m happy now, fred.”
he nodded slowly, stepping back. “right. if that’s how it is, then... alright.”
you didn’t stop him as he turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched against the cold. you stayed there for a moment, your breath fogging in the air, before finally heading back inside.
elliot smiled when you slid back into the booth, his warm hand finding yours again. but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of fred walking away, leaving footprints in the snow.
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝
𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨, 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵—𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦.
#꒰୨୧◞ 。𝘮'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴⠀.ᐟ#riddleswhcre#p2 maybe?#fredweasley#harrypotter#fredweasleyfanfic#weasleytwins#thethreebroomsticks#exes#secondchances#heartbreak#lovetriangle#unresolvedfeelings#romancefiction#hpfanfic#weasleylove#angstyfic#fredweasleyfanfiction#ficwriting#hpfanficcommunity#fredweasleyxreader#fredweasleyimagine#fanfic#harry potter
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No Matter the Distance
Noah and Mateo AU
a/n: This idea randomly came to me, and I had to get it out. I'm sorry in advance for any pain this may cause to any lovers of the twins. The next part will be happier! Also, I will be putting out the timeline soon (masterlist form), but for reference, this takes place when the boys are about three and a half.
masterlist | noah and mateo au masterlist
The boys had been extra quiet since Nico left with the team for a roadie this morning. Usually, they would have worked past the initial sadness by now, but their voices hadn’t gotten any louder like they usually would be. You decide to cut up some fruit with their sandwiches for lunch, knowing that seeing the mix of strawberries, blueberries, and bananas on their plates always gets them a little extra excited. When you finish, you call them into the kitchen and then watch as they pull themselves up onto the chairs that are still just a little too tall for them.
“Tank you, Mama,” Mateo tells you in a tone that usually only Noah would use when he’s feeling extra shy. Your worry increases after hearing his words and seeing the disheartened look on Noah’s face.
“Baby, is there something on your mind?” you question Mateo, the worry evident on your face.
“‘M fine, Mama,” he uses that same tone again, and even though you know he’s holding back, you decide not to push either of the boys on the subject. They eat their lunches quietly after that, not making much noise. When they finish, they whisper to you that they enjoyed their food before returning to their playroom, still rather silent.
You spend the rest of the cleaning and periodically checking on Noah and Mateo, trying to find an outlet to get the worry out. Soon, Nico called to check in, and though you didn’t want to worry him while he was away, you told him about the boys’ weird behavior.
“Ängeli, I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they just aren’t feeling well right now. You know Curtis’s kids got sick just a couple of days after they had that playdate with the boys,” Nico was quick to reassure you.
“You’re right, Neeks. I’m probably just overthinking. I just worry about them sometimes.”
“It’s fine, baby. Now, tell me about you. I wanna hear how my wife is doing.” You giggle before telling Nico about your day, the worry already gone from your mind. You talked to your husband for a while longer until you had to hang up to put the boys to bed. You helped them with their baths, helped them into their favorite jammies, and finally got them into their respective beds. You were sitting on the edge of Noah’s bed, getting ready to kiss his forehead and go tell Mateo goodnight in the same manner, when he asked a question that made your heart shatter into a million pieces.
“Mama? Does Papa still wuv us?” his voice is tiny, and it breaks you a little more. Mateo crawls into bed with his brother, clearly having the same thought.
“Of course he does, baby. Why would your Papa not love the two of you?” you’re fighting to hold back tears.
“He weaves us a wot,” Mateo shrugs his little shoulders, and he’s using that small, shy voice again.
“Oh, my sweet boys. Your Papa loves you both so so so much! It hurts him so much when he has to leave you both. You’re the lights of his life, both of us would be lost without you two, I promise. Please, don’t ever doubt that your Papa loves you. Or me, for that matter. We love you two more than either of you could ever imagine,” you’re crying at this point, but you don’t really care.
“You wuv us bigger than Juper?” Mateo was in a space phase, and just a few days ago learned that Jupiter was the biggest planet. Apparently, that was the biggest thing his little brain could think of.
“Yes, baby. Wayyyy bigger than Jupiter!” you drag out the word, reaching forward to tickle Mateo’s side. “And wayyyy bigger than a brachiosaurus!” you dragged out the word for Noah now, who was in a dinosaur phase, and began to tickle him as well.
“Otay, Mama!! No mo’ tickles!” it warmed your heart to hear Noah raise his voice a little.
“Yeah, Mama! No mo’ tickles!” Mateo was giggling too, finally using his normal tone of voice. Soon, they settled down for the night, so you went to get yourself ready for bed. As you did your night time routine, you couldn’t help but wonder how in the world you’d tell Nico. It would crush him to hear that the boys were worried he didn’t love them anymore. You both knew they wouldn’t handle his absence well, but neither of you thought it would ever get this bad. You decide against calling him tonight, deciding it would be best to tell him when he gets home tomorrow night, even though it will be pretty late. You go to sleep that night with tears streaming down your face.
You spend the next day trying to distract the boys from Nico’s absence. You take them to the park, take them to watch a movie, and even take them out for ice cream afterward. Is it great parenting? No probably not, but you can’t let them be sad anymore. You’re doing what you can to keep them in good spirits until Nico gets home. Eventually, you get the twins in bed, which goes much smoother than last night. You make yourself comfortable on the couch with a book, knowing you won’t be able to sleep until Nico arrives. It’s a little after 1:00 AM when he walks through the door, and you immediately stand up to hug him, trying to savor his happiness from coming home after a win while you can. After sharing a few kisses and talking about how you hate being apart, you know you have to tell Nico then, not wanting to hide it longer than you already have.
“I have to tell you something, but you can’t freak out right now okay?” you gently pull him toward the couch. You could see the nerves on his face, and the thought of telling him made you queasy.
“Ängeli, it can’t be that bad,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, knowing the last time he saw you this nervous was when you told him you were pregnant.
“So the boys… they um they missed you a lot while you were gone, but it was a little um a little more than usual,” you were stalling and you knew it.
“Okay… that’s not too bad? Did they say something I should be worried about? Did they act out? They’re usually on their best behavior for you?”
“They did say something,” you took a breath, knowing how much this would hurt your husband, “Nico, they asked me if you still loved them because you’re gone a lot.” The tears were flowing now, but you had no plans of trying to stop them, especially after seeing the tears about to fall from Nico’s eyes.
“They think I don’t love them?”
“No! At least, not anymore,” you cringe at your words. “I talked to them last night and told them we both love them very very much, and they seemed better today.”
“Oh my god. My sons think I hate them.”
“Nico, baby, they don’t think that. They’re just little. They couldn’t wrap their heads around why you have to leave so often. I explained that you don’t have a choice and hate it as much as them, if not more, and they understood a little bit better. It’ll just take some time for them to get used to it again now that they’re older and can think for themselves.”
“How do I even begin to make it up to them? I’m leaving again in a week and a half,” he lets out a sadistic chuckle.
“Nico, they still love you. You know that, right? You’re their favorite person. They could never be mad at you for long.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t just mad, Ängeli. They think I don’t love them.”
“How about you go and get ready for bed, and then we can grab the boys and let them sleep with us tonight? Would that help?” Your grasping at straws trying to keep Nico from feeling so guilty.
“Okay,” his voice is almost as small as Mateo’s was the day before. You finally move from the couch, moving to your bedroom so Nico can do his night time routine. The second he finishes, he’s giving you a look and heading straight for the boys’ room. The two of you don’t even attempt to wake them up, just lifting them from their beds and carrying them to yours. That’s the first night the boys slept in your bed since they turned three.
Nico took the next day off, skipping practice even though you told him it wouldn’t hurt the boys. He spent the entire day bonding with the boys, making sure they knew he’d never stop loving them. They played games for hours in their playroom until you had to call them down for lunch. After some chicken nuggets, which the boys were very grateful for, they were off to to the backyard, running Nico to the bone. Honestly, this was probably more of a workout for him than practice would be. That night you could hear him reassuring the boys as he put them to bed, “Your Papa will always love you two. No matter how far apart we are or how many time I have to leave, my main goal is to always come home to you two. You’re my priority and my favorite part of my day. Papa loves you both so so much.” When he leaves their bedroom, you act like you didn’t hear anything and pretend not to notice the tear stains on his face.
The love fests and spoiling didn’t stop that day, though. While he was going to practice and games, he made sure every second he had free was spent with his boys. He even let them go watch practice one day and run around Prudential Center. They were ecstatic to watch him play again, and you knew that every doubt had left their mind by now. Unfortunately, you could tell it would take Nico a while to completely get over it, but just like everything else, you two would tackle that together.
taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @puckmedude
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#em's writing#noah and mateo au#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nh13#nhl#nhl x reader#new jersey devils#njd#nj devils
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JayVik firefighter AU marriage proposal ficlet
I am obsessed with JayVik marriage proposals, so I’m typing this up because I got the idea randomly. Timeline-wise, this would take place after a while, when Jayce and Viktor would finally get their heads out of their asses and confess they can’t be apart from each other.
Jayce had never seen Vander quite as livid as he was at that very moment. He would have felt sorry for the young, recently-married couple that were catching the full force of his yelling, if he had not agreed with his chief.
They had gotten the call from Viktor. Someone had called in that an outdoor wedding was using torches for atmosphere, during the hottest and driest July rural Piltover had ever seen.
“You’re kidding me,” Jayce had said, covering his face in disbelief as he heard Viktor’s voice on the other line. They had been officially together for about two months now, after years upon years of dating and breaking up, but never being quite capable of letting the other go fully.
“I wish I was, lásko. Never underestimate the stupidity of the masses.” Viktor’s voice from the other line still made Jayce’s spine tingle, the loving term of endearment giving him goosebumps. “No fire has started as of yet, but take out one truck to be certain. Maybe you could use to hose to blast some sense into them.”
“Now that would be something. Don’t think I’d ever get the chief’s permission.”
Just as Viktor was about to respond to that, a voice from his side of the call interrupted. Hushed voices spoke, before Viktor became the sole speaker again.
“Change of plans, lásko. One of the torches has caused a fire. You’ll have to take every truck available, in case the fire spreads across the forest.”
Jayce was shocked. It would only have been a matter of time, but he had hoped he would prevent a real fire from happening. He turned as Caitlyn rushed past him to get her equipment. “I have to go, mi vida. Could I ask-“
He was cut off by Viktor. “I’ll pick up Ellie after school, my sweet. Just come home safely.”
Even though Viktor had accepted that Jayce could never give up being a firefighter, he was still sick with worry every time Jayce got called. Jayce knew that, and tried to calm him down as much as possible. Oddly enough, that predominately worked when he was as realistic as possible. Having a real grasp of the situation calmed Viktor down. Supposedly it was because he knew Jayce’s skill level and as such could gauge his probability of survival. He truly was the smartest man Jayce had ever known.
The fire itself had been contained just in time, but not without any dangers. Ekko had become stuck beneath a tree trunk on his way to save a civilian. A grandmother of the bride who could not get to safety in time.
Granted, Ekko had been forbidden by Vander from taking that path. It would be to dangerous and the fire had almost been under control. Ekko had scoffed and disobeyed orders, because he had been thinking for some time now that his chief was deliberately trying to keep him out of harm’s way as a favor to his best friend Benzo, who also happened to be Ekko’s father.
Jayce did not blame Ekko. It was risky, but an elderly lady like that could not have lasted much more. Thankfully, she had survived. Ekko would be fine, too, but he had some nasty burns around his torso. “Battle scars,” he had called them.
Jayce was shaken from his thoughts right as Vander stopped yelling. The couple was distraught, the bride crying her eyes out while the groom was still shaking. He doubted they consciously registered anything Vander was saying.
This one had been a shocking one, Jayce could not lie. It put things into perspective for him. Maybe it was the fact that they had to save a wedding, what should have been the happiest day of the couple’s life. Maybe it was him still living in domestic bliss with Viktor, finally committed to making it work, coparenting Ellie and spending all of their free time together. Maybe it was seeing Ekko under that tree. It was likely a combination of all three. Whatever the case, Jayce was rattled a little. He wanted to go home to his little girl and the man he loved. Kiss them both and tell them he was safe.
His shift was done by the time they returned to the station, so Jayce took a quick shower in the changing rooms. He tried to get clean before going home as often as possible. He knew Ellie would become scared when he was covered in sooth and smelling like fire. She did not fully grasp what it meant that her father was a firefighter and he did not care to bother her with that until she was older.
“What’s gotten into you, Golden Boy?” his sister, Caitlyn, said to him as he got out of the shower, a towel draped across his waist. Changing rooms were not separated by gender, only the showers were. Not that she would have cared if she had seen him naked. Personal boundaries had a been a thing of the past for years, with Caitlyn being a lesbian. Jayce was still bisexual, but he had not once thought of Caitlyn as anything more than a little sister.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been quiet. You’re the most high energy guy I know. When you grow quiet like this, somethings’s wrong. And chances are, it’s about Viktor.”
Jayce chuckled. “Not just him, also Ellie. It all felt like too close a call. What if I had been where Ekko was? It’s all put things in perspective.”
“Put what in perspective?”
“I think… I want Viktor to formally adopt Ellie. And I think I want to marry him.” Saying those things out loud, only confirmed his feelings. He wanted nothing more desperately.
“Marry him? Jayce, I think you might be losing your mind. You’ve been dating for like two months!”
“Two months since our last break-up. Viktor and I have been together basically since we were 16. Even when we were apart, there was an invisible string holding us together. I want this. Maybe he does too?” In truth, Jayce had been entertaining the idea for a while now, but after the rough call they had just returned from, he was convinced he needed to talk to Viktor as soon as possible.
Caitlyn smiled. As annoyed as she usually was when he complained to her about Viktor, she ultimately was still rooting for them. They were perfect together, horrible apart. Jayce went to prison arguably because he was so heartbroken after Viktor left him that he stopped valuing his own life. He hardly ever stopped smiling when they were with each other, talked about him constantly.
Jayce knew he was ready for this.
As he drove his pick-up into his driveway, the door opened and his Ellie ran outside.
“Papa!” she screamed as she rushed into Jayce’s arms, her black hair in cute pigtails that bounced around as much as she did. His baby girl was truly a ball of energy.
“Mija! Am I happy to see you! Did you have fun with Viktor?”
“Yes! Papa Viktor took me out for ice cream!” Ellie calling his Viktor her papa gave Jayce a warm, fuzzy feeling. He had been as much almost all her life, which is why Jayce wanted to ask him to adopt her in the first place.
Jayce carried her in his arms as he entered his house, being greeted by Viktor in one of his shirts on top of his own casual slacks. He was holding a mug of tea, ever the lover of hot drinks even in this heat.
“Thank you, mi vida,” he greeted his love, kissing him softly.
Viktor only smiled. “She’s been a dream, like always. Welcome home, lásko. I’m glad you are safe.”
Jayce was as well. He breathed in deeply. Time to do this. Jayce put his daughter on the ground and told her to go play. “Me and papa Viktor have to talk about something important.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow as he handed Jayce a mug of tea of his own. They sat on the couch. “Am I in trouble?”
Jayce was suddenly very nervous. “N-No! But maybe… I am?”
Viktor leaned forward, a faint glimmer of nerves in his eyes. Viktor was good at keeping his facial expression neutral, but Jayce could read him like no other. He wanted Viktor to not be nervous, so he decided to just come out and ask.
“I… I love you. And Ellie does, too. You love her, and you love me. I hope.” He chuckled, but continued when Viktor only chuckled nervously. “I wanted to ask you if you would… maybe be open to formally adopting Ellie?”
He kept fidgeting nervously, but looked Viktor in the eyes as he posed his question, eager to hear his response. Viktor’s mouth hung open. He put his and Jayce’s mug on the table in front of them and turned to fully face him.
“Jayce… I would be…” He turned his face away to wipe away what looked like a tear. “Well, I suppose ‘honored’ is too small a word. I love your daughter, Jayce. It would mean the world to me if she could officially become my daughter as well.”
Jayce, releasing a breath he did not realize he was holding in relief, lunged forward and enveloped Viktor in a hug. “I love you, mi vida. Thank you!”
Viktor kissed his temple, before pulling back. “But only if Ellie wants this as well. I know she is only five, but she deserves to get a say in this.”
Jayce grinned. “Of course, but I doubt she’ll disagree.”
They called her and asked her to sit with them. She climbed onto the couch and promptly put herself in between them. “What is it, papa?”
“Well, Viktor and I have been talking. We were wondering how you would feel about Viktor maybe becoming your papa as well?”
Ellie looked at them confused. “What do you mean?”
Viktor chuckled. “Well, you know I am not your father by blood. But your daddy and I were thinking that maybe we could go to the mayor and ask him if he could make a new law that says I get to be your father as well. Would you like that?”
Jayce smiled. Viktor was so incredibly good with Ellie. He was still a realist, still tended to be serious. But the way his voice softened when he spoke to her, never unkindly, warmed Jayce’s heart. Even the clunky way he tried to make difficult topics digestible for a child caused his love to spread all throughout his chest.
Ellie, for her part, was still confused. “But you already are my papa, right? You have always loved me just like daddy! Even when you and daddy were no longer in love!”
Viktor chuckled. “There is your answer, then. Let’s get this arranged as soon as possible. Thank you, Jayce. I cannot put into words how much this means to me.” Warmth radiated from his eyes. He seemed truly happy.
“But daddy, does that mean you’ll marry papa Viktor?”
Viktor, who had reached to grab his mug of tea, choked on his drink. Jayce wanted to laugh at her question, but the fact that he had actually been thinking the same thing - and worrying about Viktor’s response - caused him to only chuckle politely.
“Well, mija… That was actually going to be my next question to your papa.” He looked up and locked eyes with Viktor, who had turned a deep crimson.
“Excuse me?”
“Well…” Jayce started. “I don’t have a ring yet. But I had a rough day at work today and it made me think about some stuff. I have been an idiot, V. For years and years, not daring to commit to you. Scared of what would happen if I didn’t come home. But now that we’re finally together, I don’t ever want want to let you go. You’re my world, Viktor. And hers, too. I know we’ve only officially dated for two months now, but it feels as if we’ve been together since high school. I’m ready for this, V. I can only hope that you are, too.”
Viktor tended to pride himself on his ability to keep his composure at all times, but Jayce could see the shock in his eyes, surprise clear on his face. “It boggles the mind how you think. No ring, nothing prepared. And here I thought romance was dead.”
Jayce blushed. “I know, I know. I’m going to do things properly after I get a ring. But I wanted to know first if you were open to the idea.” He stood up, a wave of confidence deciding his next step.
He went down on one knee in front of Viktor, smiling at the way Ellie giggled. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew it was important. He took Viktor’s hand in his. “Viktor, will you please marry me?”
Viktor shook his head, chuckling to himself. “You are impossible, Talis. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
Jayce, once again feeling an overwhelming sense of relief, jumped up and enveloped his love in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, mi vida!”
They kissed each other fondly, eyes shut as they both relished in the feeling of just having gotten engaged.
Ellie made a gagging sound. “Daddies, stop, that’s gross!”
They both laughed as they pulled her into their hug. She giggled as they showered her with kisses.
“Mija, it turns out papa Viktor and I are going to be married.”
This made the little girl jump, screeching in joy. “My papas are going to he husbands!”
As she jumped up and down on the couch, Viktor trying his best to try and catch her if she were to fall. Jayce leaned back. The exhaustion he had felt after his day at work had been completely washed away.
When he looked at his family. His unique, loving, family. He could not help but smile.
Once he had gotten his head out of his ass, Jayce had become the happiest man alive.
He could not wait to see what the future was going to have in store for them.
#idk man i just love them being domestic#arcane#viktor arcane#jayce talis#jayce x viktor#jayvik#netflix#jayce arcane#league of legends#fanfiction
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Seeing what you commented about his booking photo is something I think about almost daily... I wonder if he was crying right before it was taken. Mind you, that's a suicide vest they have on him.
I’m sorry, that’s a fucking WHAT!?! I thought that was just some sorta weird exam gown for when they do their full body searches and shit (imagining him getting cavity searched literally haunts me. Idk if that’s something they would’ve done then or if they do that when you’re actually convicted and sentenced? I could google it but I’m already typing this out and too lazy to switch screens)
They said at the time of arrest he started shaking really bad. Some people took that as “oh yeah he was obviously scared because he did it and knew he got caught.” (Sorry anon I know this is kinda going WAY off but I was thinking about this last night).
So two cops approached him at McDs and asked he pull down his mask. He complied. They asked for ID. He gave them the fake ID he’d used in the hostile. Why? IMO, it was to avoid being matched with his real name to any missing persons reports put out by his family and I’m sure he knew they’d put one out. THEN they asked if he’d been to NY recently. Obviously he had. And he obviously knew about the shooting that’d just happened. So the gears start turning in his head that ‘oh shit they think I’M the guy?!’
Now he realizes he just gave them a fake ID and the same ID he’d used in NY at that. He knows that’s gonna look really REALLY bad.
They cuff him and lead him off which is when I believe they search his belongings and find all the “evidence”.
So yeah I can absolutely imagine him BAWLING because he went from trying to simply avoid his family and figure himself out on his own to now being accused of the MURDER of a CEO. And I’m sure he was well aware they’d planted that “evidence” but that now it was his word against theirs and that’s gotta be a helpless feeling. He screwed up with the ID. Somebody pointed out if he had given them a different ID (fake or otherwise) they wouldn’t have had reason to search him cause the name wouldn’t have been the same as the one at the hostile. I don’t think he was worried about that because at that initial moment he probably never assumed they were coming to him as a murder suspect.
The damage that’s been done to this poor boy is irreversible. The PTSD he will no doubt inevitably suffer is something he’ll probably live the rest of his life with. He’s gonna have such a hard time trusting ANYBODY. His dating life was stagnant before all this, it’ll be completely dead afterward. I wanna hold out hope that since he has seen all the support he’s been given that that’ll help him reintegrate back into society a little easier. And yes I’m gonna talk about this as though he’ll be found not guilty and released. Cause as of right now he is Not Guilty. It is up to the prosecuting team to PROVE his guilt, not the other way around.
Again, apologies for such a long-winded reply. I was stewing on this thought for a bit.
#luigi mangione#free luigi#free luigi mangione#luigi#deny defend depose#luigi nicholas mangione#freedom for luigi#luigi is innocent#innocent until proven guilty#presumption of innocence#presumed innocent#united healthcare#us healthcare#fuck ceos#eat the rich#uhc shooter#uhc#uhc ceo#uhc assassin#fuck uhc#uhc killer#deny delay depose
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Lost Love.
Warnings: angst, little to no comfort, bad writing, swearing, brief mention of violence, a bittersweet (half) ending, mentions of ed
Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Gn!reader, platonic!Emily Prentiss x Reid, platonic!Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader
Word count: around 1.9k
A/N: I got an ask for this but i accidentally deleted it… so here’s a short one, almost two years later haha… 😅 sorry!
English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes or if this moves too fast I am fairly new to writing.
。・:*˚:✧。
The moment you heard that Doyle got his slimy hands on Emily you couldn’t think straight. All you wanted to do was to catch him and beat the living shit out of him for hurting the most important person in your life.
The team and you ran inside the building, looking for the dark-haired woman. You decided to break away from your team, searching the rooms by yourself when you stumble upon the worst thing you’ve ever seen.
The love of your life, Emily, was currently on the floor, bleeding out. You stumbled towards her, engulfing her in your arms, putting pressure on her abdomen wound.
“It’s going to be okay babe, you’re okay.” Smiling down at her, you shook her awake seeing her eyes falter.
“It hurts…”
“I know, I know it does, pretty girl. But you have to hold on for me.”
She sighs and reaches out her hand to caress your cheek. “You look so beautiful tonight.
You nod, biting your lip as you don’t trust yourself to not let out a sob. Petting her hair you leaned into her touch, begging the heavens to let her live.
“I’m just going to –” You ripped a piece of your shirt to tie it around her leg, which was cut up badly, making her whine in pain. “I – I know princess, I know.”
The door opened as you heard collective gasps, picking up your head you saw Aaron and JJ rush towards you and your lover. Derek couldn’t move, he didn’t want to see his friend-like sister dying on the floor.
“I tried to do anything to save her some time –” In an instant, you were pulled away and the medical team started to work on Emily. You tried to pull away from the person holding you, wanting to go and be near your girlfriend. “I have to… I need to be next to her.”
“I know you do, but that won’t help her right now.” Hotch pulled you out of the room and out of the building, he needed to get you to safety.
“Hotch, let me ride with her.” You sobbed out when you saw Emily being put into an ambulance. You looked over at him, giving you a small nod. That was the only thing you needed before you ran up to the vehicle and got inside it.
-
For some weird reason, Hotch told you to stay with them while JJ went to find out if Emily survived. It was weird, sure, but you understood it perfectly, he didn’t want you to break down alone.
So when you saw the blonde come in, where the whole team was sitting, you could tell from her solemn look that your worst nightmare had come true. Spencer stood up before he was engulfed in a hug from the liaison, Derek and Penelope were both crying in their seats.
You looked over at Dave, who was biting his lip to not make a sound, you could tell that the death hit him hard, he thought of Emily as his daughter in a way. But when your watery eyes moved to your side, Hotch seemed oddly put together.
Of course, you knew that he was a rather calm and stoic man but he and your girlfriend always had a special bond, so his reaction was weird. But you decided not to question the man, your mind was soon clouded with depressed thoughts of your late lover.
A couple of days passed, that’s all the time you gave yourself to grieve. Hotch advised you to take a month for yourself but you shrugged him off, knowing that your girlfriend would want you to put yourself back out there to fight and help people.
“Leave me alone Hotch, I told you that I’m fine.” Rolling your eyes at the man in front of you, you turned back towards the papers you needed to fill.
“I know what you said, but that doesn’t mean that I will listen to your lies and go along with them.” Not getting an answer from you, he pushed your chair so that you were face to face. “Listen, I care about you enough to be concerned about not only your mental health but also your physical health. It doesn’t seem like you’ve been eating well these past few days and I can’t have a malnourished agent on the fields.”
You clenched your jaw and picked up your gaze to meet his angry one. Nodding lightly, you knew he was right, and that by your actions you were putting the whole team in danger. “I’ll do better sir.”
He nodded and walked off, leaving you alone with your running thoughts.
-
There was a hit on Doyle. You and Morgan have been secretly working on his case for some months now. Hiding it from the rest of the team, especially Hotch, you didn’t want him knowing because he would take the whole blame for it — and you didn’t want Strauss to change your unit chief.
“Morgan, we got something.” I strutted into his office holding a few papers, my voice a harsh whisper.
“Please tell me it’s something good.”
“It’s more than that, I think this will help us make a breakthrough.” I tossed the papers over to him, the information was found by Garcia, who was also the only one that knew of our doings.
“This… these are Declan’s foster parents.”
I hummed and crossed my arms, watching as he read over the papers with furrowed eyebrows. His jaw clenched tightly as I saw the gears in his mind work.
“We need to tell Hotch and the rest of the team. If we want to catch him we have to come up clean.”
-
“So what the two of you are saying is that… for the past few months you’ve been tracking and monitoring a deadly terrorist without the Bureaus' consent?”
“Yes… but Hotch, we couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while he got away Scott free with killing Emily!” Morgan argued, his pulse quickening as you cringed internally at the mention of your dead girlfriends name.
“I don’t like this. And after we’re finished with this case we’re going to have a long and hard talk.”
You both nodded, like little kids that were being told off for getting into trouble. Walking out of the chief office, you follow Hotch into the briefing room smiling at each other.
-
“I know someone who can help with that.” JJ smiled and moved out of the doorway, revealing… Emily.
Emily Prentiss in all her glory. Though she looked and felt a bit different than before, it was an odd feeling, one that you couldn’t put your finger on. Nonetheless, your heart ached for her as she made her way around the room hugging and saying her hellos. She got to the end of the round table; standing face to face with you, a soft smile gracing her lips.
“Hey.” She whispered so softly you barely heard it.
“I— Emily… what? You, you died in my arms Emily.”
“I know, I was dead for a moment or two, but I had to leave. You have to understand—“
“Okay guys, leave that for later, we have to get rolling.” Aaron spoke up, his go bag in his hand as the team began to leave for the plane.
-
You were sitting outside on Rossis’ patio. The night was warm and the stars were bright, you could still hear faint music coming from the inside of the house. You sighed solemnly as you sipped your drink.
“Is this seat taken?”
You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Your shoulders shrugged in response as you felt the couch dip. Clenching your jaw, you didn’t dare to look at her.
“I really am sorry, I didn’t know— I mean, I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. I just wanted you all to be safe, and you wouldn’t be with me there—“
“You don’t know that.” A bitter whisper left my lips.
“Doyle was targeting families, you are my family.”
“We could’ve protected you, I wouldn’t let that son of a bitch lay another finger on you—“
“You know that’s not true, he probably would’ve killed you if I stayed here.”
You let the words sit in the air before exhaling a sigh. With a shake of your head, you stood up and down your drink.
“Yeah, well that wouldn’t hurt as much as you dying in my arms. The love of my life… dead.”
“Baby, I really am sorry.”
Her warm hand found its way around your bicep, trying to turn you around but you shook her off. “Don’t call me that, we’re not together Emily.”
“We never broke up.”
“That’s because you don’t break up with dead people. Gosh Em… what did you think would happen? That I would forget everything and just run into your arms happily? I— I can’t”.
Your legs started to make their way over to the door, wanting nothing more than to leave and never face your ex lover again.
“I thought you loved me?” Her broken voice left an echo in your head. Your own eyes glossing over with tears, just like hers.
“I thought I loved you. But I can't love someone that I don’t know. You come back, and it’s like you’re a totally different person.”
“I’m still the same girl you met 4 years ago! You know me, we were together for half that time. Baby please—“
“No, I knew my Emily… I don't know who this new Emily is. And quite frankly I’m tired of this bullshit that everyone is pulling, acting like everything is fine and the same.” Shaking your head you turn around to face the dark haired woman.
“I can’t be with you anymore Emily. You broke my trust, and my heart and I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from that. I don’t know how to… I can’t.”
Without a single other word you turned and left. But you didn’t go through the house, instead you took the garden doors. Slipping past the other guests you let out a sigh of relief you began your journey home.
The only thing that was on your mind was Emily’s cries after you, the way her hand fleeting tried to stop your body from moving. How crushed she looked when this time, you were the one to walk away from her. But you didn’t care, or just not enough to stay.
You went through your healing, got better and started to move on, she had no right to come back and act like nothing happened. Not now, not ever, and you were going to do everything in your power to make sure that stays true.
The end.
#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x fem!reader#Emily Prentiss x male!reader#Emily Prentiss x gn!reader#criminal minds x reader#reader holds grudges#pretty quick paced#I’m back from the dead#maybe a part two someday#emily prentiss angst#angst#angst no comfort#I love spreading sadness
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Faking Fate Chapter 3
Big shout out to @separatist-apologist for letting me use her Day Court city name. Her fics are canon to me, it didn't feel right to use any other name!
HUGE shoutout to @lovingelucien for being my beta reader/editor. She's my guardian angel fr.
@tele86 @foxyfairydream @the-hidey-hole
If Nesta wasn’t hurling into a toilet, she spent most of her time taking advantage of Day’s extensive libraries. She read her typical romances of course, she occasionally picked up a history book, wanting to learn about this new fae world that she found herself living in. She also read a couple pregnancy/parenting books, to ease her nerves about her situation.
Helion said her scent started to change about a week ago. That was surreal. Despite Helion’s insistence that he’d be there to help her, she couldn’t help but feel very alone. Her mind wandered to Cassian. What kind of father would he have been? Thoughts of him with their baby did things to her. The guilt of keeping the pregnancy from him sat uneasily in her stomach, right next to the morning sickness.
There she was, reading in the light of her silver flames. Helion taught her how to create her own flames and how to silence fireplaces after learning of her aversion to fire. Helion had promised to teach her how to use her magic in a safe, controlled environment, and the idea of it didn't make her want to retch. She had a feeling that Helion would make for a much kinder teacher than Amren. And with a baby on the way, Nesta didn’t want the danger of her uncontrolled magic at large.
Nesta glanced at the window. Helion said he would be back that afternoon, though he didn’t say exactly when. When Helion left, Nesta felt like there was nothing keeping the Night Court from coming in and her, despite knowing they weren’t looking for her. Helion was keeping something from her. Though what it was exactly, she couldn’t tell.
When Helion opened the door late that evening, Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin. “You’re back.” She said, searching for him for any sign of what he was keeping from her.
“I am. And I brought surprises!” Helion grinned, opening the door further, revealing Gwyn and Emerie, each carrying duffle bags, with tears in their eyes as they looked past Helion to Nesta.
Nesta gasped, standing to greet her friends as they both dropped their bags and lunged for her, crying as they held her.
“Cassian told us you died!” Gwyn cried, “Don’t ever do something like that to us again!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I- I didn’t have many other choices.” Nesta giggled through the tears, happy beyond belief to have her chosen sisters with her.
Emerie sniffed and pulled away to look at her, brows furrowed, “Are you pregnant?”
“They didn’t tell you? I’m about a month along.” Nesta smiled, unable to contain the joy of being able to celebrate with someone other than the High Lord.
Her sisters squealed and hugged her tighter, “We’re going to be aunties! No, fuck Cassian, I’m their dad now.” Emerie said with a sense of determination she often saw in her winged friend.
“How do you know Cassian is the father?” Nesta asked, eyes narrowed, as the girls finally pulled away to wipe their eyes free of tears.
“Timelines?” Gwyn shrugged, “You didn’t have to tell us the details, you were always practically glowing after a night with him.”
Nesta’s face flushed red, “I was not!”
“You absolutely were.” Emerie smirked.
“How long are you guys here for?” Nesta asked, wanting to change the subject.
“As long as you are.” Gwyn grinned, “Helion offered us positions in his library!”
Nesta thought back to her first time seeing priestesses in Helion’s library. Helion told her that it was originally the Day court that had the concept of healing women working in the library.
“You’ll like it a lot. The library is much larger here than in Night.” Nesta said.
“So we’ve been told. I might even open up a bookstore in Rhodes, if I can raise the money.” Emerie revealed, “Helion offered to sponsor me, but I don’t want to take too much of his kindness.”
“Are you sure you guys are okay with leaving the Night court behind like this?” Nesta asked, the worry creeping up on her
“After what they did to you? Absolutely.” Gwyn said resolutely.
“I didn’t want to stay in the Night Court after Cassian told us you died.” Emery added, “We didn’t have the means to leave until Helion approached us.”
Nesta looked past her friends to Helion, who was casually leaning against the wall, watching the exchange with a smile on his face. Nesta ran over to him and embraced him tightly, “Thank you for bringing them. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I would do much more for you, Nesta Archeron.” ______________________________________________________________
Lucien never received many visitors. He got the usual door-to-door salesman about once a month, despite being in the city for a few years now, he had yet to make many connections with the townspeople of Velaris. The fact that he was often away, in the human lands, didn’t help with much either.
So when Lucien received a knock on his door one afternoon, he was surprised. He was downright shocked to see that it was Elain, carrying a large bag. Mostly books, he noted. She seemed out of breath, like had she run there. It took him a moment to still his heart as he opened his mouth to speak before he was interrupted.
“Can I come in?” she asked, panting.
He nodded and shifted to let her in. Elain hurried in, setting the bag on the nearby couch. He shut the door behind her looking over, “What’s going on?” eyeing her warily.
“You and I need to go to the Day Court.” she said quickly.
“The Day Court? Why?”
“I had a vision. Nesta is alive. In the vision you were with me. So you need to come too.” She said simply, as if it was obvious.
“Do you know why I need to join you?” Lucien asked, still wary, but growing more hopeful by the moment. She hadn’t said this many words to him since they had met at the cauldron. He was waiting for a catch. A trip to the Day Court with his mate sounded exactly like something he needed. The inner circle off his back and time with his mate unaccompanied.
“Something about missing family.” she waved off, going through the bag to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.
“What’s all that?” he asked, gesturing to the bag with his head.
“Nesta’s things. I stole them from Feyre. If Nesta truly is alive she’ll want these back.”
“I thought you had a proper burial for her. How would she still be alive?” he asked, pulling up a chair and sitting in it backwards.
“I don’t know. I’m hoping she’ll tell me when I see her.” she said and slung the bag over her shoulder. “C’mon, get your things! We have to leave before they realize I took everything.”
He sighed. This wasn't the craziest thing he’d do for his mate, but it was up there. He trusted her and her visions. He stood, packing a bag of necessities. He was rarely in his apartment so there wasn’t much. “Alright, I’ll winnow us there. Do you know exactly where she is?” he asked. Shaking her head, “I think the palace? We should talk to Helion first.”
______________________________________________________________
It was late evening as Nesta, Gwyn and Emery sat in a circle, going through baby name books, picking out their favorites. They were all in their pajamas as they bounced name ideas between each other. Helion told her that fae don’t typically prepare for the baby before it’s born. Bad luck or something like that. But Nesta couldn’t help but be excited now that her friends were there.
There was a knock on the door as Helion popped his head in, “Nes, can I talk to you?”
Nesta got up from the circle and left the room, she stood just outside the door with Helion, “What's going on?”
“Elain and Lucien are here.” Helion said, getting straight to business, “I have a feeling Elain had a vision of you. What should I do?”
Nesta cursed internally. She should have known Elain might have a vision about her. That she might be led to her. The more she thought about it, the more she didn't have an issue with Elain knowing about her, though she didn't want her running back to Feyre and Rhysand about her.
She thought about this carefully, “I’ll be nearby. I’ll listen in on the conversation.”
He nodded, “Ok, let me shield your scent.” he said with a small hand gesture.
Rolling his shoulders, Helion walked to where Elain and Lucien waited.
“Lucien Vancerra. Elain Archeron. How can I help you both?” He asked kindly, keeping his eyes on Elain.
“I’m here to see Nesta. I know she’s alive.” Elain said firmly.
“Elain, you saw her body. You buried it.” Helion said sympathetically, “She’s not here. She’s buried in the Night Court.”
“I had a vision of her, alive and pregnant, here in Day.” She asserted, her brows furrowed.
Helion sighed, “Even if she was here, which she is not, I wouldn’t discuss her situation. Not when you could run back to Feyre and Rhysand.”
“I won't.” She promised, “I don’t wish to speak to them. They’re dead to me. They promised Nesta would be happy and healthy in the house and look where that got her. I’m prepared to stay here indefinitely. If she were here, of course.”
Helion eyed her warily, arms crossed over his chest.
“How about a bargain? An oath to secrecy?” Lucien offered. “I, Lucien Vancerra, swear to secrecy on Nesta Archerons whereabouts, on my life no one will hear about her from me without her permission.”
Elain’s mouth lay agape at the sheer confidence he had in her and her visions. She’d given him scant details about the vision, and yet he was staking his life on it.
Elain gave a similar vow, offering her life if she revealed Nesta’s whereabouts without her permission. She felt a familiar ping of magic whenever a bargain was struck.
Helion watched protectively, once all was said, he sighed and looked to the doorway where Nesta hid.
Nesta entered, timidly, embarrassed now that her ruse was up. Elain set down her bag and ran to her sister, enveloping her in a tight hug, “Oh my god, Nesta!” she cried.
Nesta sighed and hugged her back, “I’m sorry Elain, I had to.” she said, trying to think of how to explain this all to her.
“How did you even do it?” She asked, pulling away, Elain’s hands cupping her face.
“The body was fake.” She explained, “But the scene wasn’t. Helion got to me in time. I’m sorry-”
“I get it, Nesta. Seeing your… fake body like that was traumatic but I understand why you did it. I saw how they treated you at dinners. How they spoke of you behind your back. They even used you for your magic. You weren’t safe there.” Elain said.
Nesta felt tears come to her eyes, “Then why didn’t you do anything?”
“They promised me that sending you to the house was the right thing to do. That you’d be safe there. I’ve seen your death a million different ways and I was so desperate to try to prevent it.” She explained, “I finally just wanted to see a future where you’re happy, Nesta. And I think you achieved that.”
She nodded, “ I think I just needed someone. Anyone. Not to judge me. To be there and tell me it was going to be okay. I cant use bathtubs anymore and I can’t be around fires. I just… wanted things to go back to normal.”
Elain took Nesta’s hands in hers, “No more ignoring you because others tell me to. They will have to pry you from my cold dead hands for me to leave you again.”
That made Nesta smile.
“There’s another reason we came.” Elain began, “Lucien has some missing family here in the Day Court.”
“Missing family? Who?” Nesta said, looking up. She regarded the two males now, standing side by side. Then it clicked. The resemblance was uncanny.
“Can we do a paternity test?” Nesta asked, looking at Helion.
“Between who?” he asked
“You and Lucien.”
His eyes widened as he looked to Lucien, searching his face for something. It seemed Lucien was doing the same. The room came to a stand still as the two males regarded each other. Helion shifted closer as his hand came up and held Lucien's face, “How could I not see it before?”
“Are you…really my father?” Lucien asked, voice quiet as he held back his emotion.
“How old are you?” Helion asked
“Four hundred and fifty three.” Lucien said, “That might be off by a couple of years but- oof!”
Lucien was quickly interrupted as Helion pulled him into a bear hug, tears streaming down his face, “I have a son…”
Lucien chuckled and hugged the male back, his eye wet with his own tears. He let out a breath, “Yeah, you do.”
Previous Chapter
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Been rewatching the LOTR and Hobbit and I love me some found family so for your consideration:
Spy X Family au with Thorin as Twilight Bilbo as Yor and Frodo as Anya
#sorry I had a Thought and now I’m crying#I just love spyxfamily and I think they fit (to certain degrees)#spy x family#the hobbit#the lord of the rings#thorin oakenshield#bilbo baggins#frodo baggins#one of my favourite families frfr#loid forger#yor forger#anya forger#and yes this is baginshield in my mind
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Just now realized that the first meeting of Kaveh and Alhaitham is mirrored by their tavern conversation, I. Am Not. Okay-
#took me. what. one and a half years. to see it#oh my god. oh. my. god.#I can’t I can’t with them I’m gonna cry#they approached each other during their loneliest moments (or what they perceived to be the loneliest moments of each other) I aM NOT OKAY#these two do things to me. tHEY DO THIGS TO ME PSYCHOLOGICALLY#I’m sorry it’s 2 a.m. and this is. this is a Big Thought for me that seems so obvious in hindsight now but I never had it before#oh these two. do not separate. they go together as a package deal. oh my god-#*incoherent rambling continues*#genshin impact#afinna explores teyvat#genshin impact thoughts#genshin impact sumeru#genshin impact kaveh#genshin impact alhaitham#kavetham#alhaitham x kaveh
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