#fostering love is so much easier than you would think

[riririnnnn]

Kaiser reminds me of this tweet a lot:

Not the foster care part, but the warm bath and being cold part.

If it's difficult for you to understand, then you can hold an ice cube in your hand for a minute, and then try running the same hand under warm water—it won't soothe you, it'll give you a burning feeling that hurts a lot.

And that's, probably, what Kaiser felt like too here:

He wasn't used to people being so nice and friendly. I doubt whether a nice meal was a common thing for him or not. He wasn't used to it.

And he said that openly too:

He didn't know how to receive kindness—it was a near foreign concept for him. People are being nice? For what? Nothing? That can't be true. Besides, his resentment was borne out of jealousy too—he basically called himself an unwanted person whereas those who were being kind to him were beings who were wanted, beings who were people.

Of course, it isn't a fault to have a good childhood or a loving family, but it shouldn't automatically make Kaiser's feelings unjustified. It's his right to be angry because what had he done to have the kind of childhood/life he had—didn't he deserve happiness too?

Also, there was a translation I remember reading where he said something along the lines of, "I won't succumb to kindness," and I think it's his way of making a wall around his heart because what if one day, all these kindness and nice things suddenly vanishes? It's scary, you know.

Further, as he said, it's easier for him to be a 'target of malice', 'cause hatred is like an old friend to him—he is more used to the concept of cruelty, he is more comfortable with unkindness 'cause he knows it better than he knows kindness. His father is too much entangled with his character, and it's like a weird closure to him to know that he is behaving like the same person to feel human who was the very reason why he always felt less than a human.

It really doesn't matter if you like him or not, you just can't deny that he is a very well written character.

And I'm really eager to see what his endgame would be like. Not his last game or appearance, but the kind of endgame Bachira, Chigiri and Hiori got—you getting me?

[explvrer]

been filled with a sense of love recently; sharing some with you

[yoursinfulurges]

Enchantress

Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: You would guard your throne from vultures no matter the cost and so the games begins. In which Aemond Targaryen regrets making an enemy of his wife.

Aemond is a cheating hoe. No one wanted this I just really wanted to write some angst. As always your features and ethnicity is not mentioned, background is not specified but you are a highborn. After the Serpentine series I wanted something spicy.

Word count: 8.1k

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By nature you were a patient person, taking great diligence in ensuring emotions doesn't overcome your judgment. But as the hour grows late your forbearance for your husband had begun to wear thin. It nears twelve and you had been waiting for Aemonds return for well over three hours now. With every passing minute you find yourself drowning in madness as you draw a blank on where or what he was up to. Succumbing to the ill thoughts on your mind as the flickering dance and crackle of the fire floods your senses. You're tired, you're anxious and your ears are ringing yet you still sat unmoving. Why?

There was no doubt that the man in question confused you to no end, nevertheless you still made sure to act accordingly and play the part of his wife. Although you're finding it increasingly hard to upkeep the role of his good little lover when the man is hardly in your presence. It was true that your marriage with Aemond was one out of political leverage, but you still did your best to care for him. Always making sure your relationship was fostered and tended to in the hopes of something blossoming.

You had faith that he would grow fonder of you as the years went on, but with every passing day that thought was challenged. It had been a long journey but without fail you acted kind and loving towards him no matter the expense. Valuing your relationship with Aemond a great deal, you were willing to do anything for him.

Even endure his callous behaviors towards you.

It was no secret that the prince was rather displeased with your union. For a man that preached the importance of preforming duty, he was awfully bad at it. You had been wedded for almost half a year now and have yet to consummate the marriage. Not that you weren't willing to, the problem lies with your husband. It was plain to see behind closed doors that he did not take you seriously.

In his eye this marriage was a joke, you were but strangers at best due to his lack of effort. Now you know not of the origins of his distant behavior but you've tried your best to minimize them. Dragging Aemond off to accompany you on walks around the castle, asking him to join you for lunch; everyday without faltering you tried.

But to no avail, your attempts does little to dull the wall between you two. He doesn't interact with you unless it was mandatory or for show, displayed little emotions past cordial. And god forbid laying a hand on you was the end of the fucking world. Was this who Aemond Targaryen was? Cold and cynical? Deprived of all that makes a person human. Every time you looked at him he was a ghost, fading into the background slipping from your grasp. He was untouchable, invisible. His self-righteous aura creating a vortex around him.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to become apparent to the ladies in court. Everyday without fail they would voice their concerns, asking you if you were being mistreated. Of course you lie, a task that comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would since you had little ties with your husband. Though it makes you wonder if Aemond also found it easy to lie to you....

The thought gets lost on you as an intrusive sound rings through your chambers. Brows furrowing at the disturbance, why would Aemond feel the need to knock on your shared room? The train was rather absurd so it leads you into thinking that it wasn't him paying you a visit. Much to your disappointment. With confusion in your voice, you call out to the visitor.

"Come in." Anxiously bringing your palms together on your lap. Your fingers locked themselves in a manner of worry, squeezing tightly as you prepare yourself. Soon the door opens and in follows Ser Larys Strong. His pronounced way of walking evident as the cane hits the ground harshly. The sound announcing and intrusive, almost counting down the seconds before he reaches you.

"I am sorry to intrude on your private time my Lady, especially when the hour is so late but I fear this matter cannot wait till dawn." He smiles sympathetically although you do not like implications behind it. You notion for him to sit across from you, watching the scene carefully. You don't utter a word as he moves to take his place. Ser Larys's visits are always prompted.... And by the look on his face it reads that he knows something you don't... That fact slightly unnerved you...

"I thought this news would be best heard if it were from me.... From a friend..." Bullshit. Larys always had an ulterior motive, he liked cultivating favors from the court only for them to owe him in return. No doubt that he was a sick man that enjoyed manipulating others, finding power in mind games in a way that he cannot with the sword. You were far from friends but played the game together. He only viewed you so highly because you were one of the only people the didn't fall for his lures and cryptic words.

"I take it this news is not pleasant." Lifting a brow at him in question, you kept your manner strong and imposing. He swallows and nods his head briefly, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor.

"Earlier today.... Prince Aemond was caught indulging a servant girl in Harrenhal." He says the words carefully though no amount of safe keeping can withhold your anger. Larys words were vague but you understood clearly what he meant. Shaking in your seat, you calm yourself. Or at least tried to....

You were going to fucking kill him.

"Ah.... I see... Who else knows?" Your words come out strained. Tone cut and tense, implying that you were holding back an outburst as tears of anger slowly clouds your gaze. What did you honestly expect? Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, vision tunneling as rage began crawling up your center. For a moment your breath stills, the abyss captivating you before you snap out of it and focusing on Ser Larys once more. He says nothing as he watches the fire burn, avoiding your venomous stare.

"Just you and me." He nods slowly, finally looking at you, only to drop his gaze soon after. He was uncomfortable beyond measure... His mouth opens to say something once more but stops to take in your shape. You clutched at the chair with a murderous grip, nails digging into the stained leather. Slowly he met your unmoving eyes, taken aback by the poison swimming amongst them. Gods be good... That look never meant well. The tension was heavy and for a moment Larys feared for his own life. You were not sad nor disheartened, instead you were seething in hatred. The room fogs with something unpleasant as the walls welcomed the illness like an old friend. Such atmosphere was suffocating as he watched you shake in retribution, no doubt planning your next calculating moves.

Vengeance. That was all you wanted. Many questions plagued your mind, had you not been good enough for him? You've done all that you could to please him and yet he disrespect your name with his adultery. You honestly didn't know what to say, it wasn't like this was much of a shock to you since a part of you always had suspicions. But you dismissed those thoughts as nothing but intrusive and toxicant. Yet to hear the words out loud coming from a reputable man such as Ser Larys Strong was much different than you telling yourself. Larys was many things but he was not a liar. His words always had claim and a backbone, despite how distasteful the intentions behind them may be. You could not care less about what he wants to get out of you, what you want to know is what else he's keeping locked away. And what will it take to get him talking.

"The servant that caught them and sent for a raven was found killed under.... suspicious circumstances... I only received both letters now, of the girls retelling and of her death.... A dagger through the mouth what an awful way to go..." Larys speaks when you don't, watching the way you thought in silence. He wondered what you were thinking, for he was one of the only people that knew your true nature. You were a murderous woman, manipulative, vigilant, and vengeful... Behind those stupid smiles and shy fronts was an enchantress, turning the tides in her favor. And now an outsider trespasses on your waters. Larys knows more than anything that you were willing to guard your throne from vultures at any cost.

You didn't like coming second to anybody, and for a moment he prays for the prince...

"I understand that this must be difficult for you, but if you are ever in need... I'll be sure to be of service in this trying time..." You scoff at that, the sound reverberating through the room. There it was. The bait he dangles so tempting in front of foolish fish.

"At what cost Ser Larys, I am no fool. I know everything from you must always come at a price." Holding your chin up high, you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat. Having calmed down a little, you plan a rainstorm of hell fire.

"Not this time... You see, this girl that had somehow managed to enthrall the prince.... She is a nuisance on my side so you can insure my allegiance is with you. As Lord of Harrenhal I make it a point to know everything and anything going on in my own castle, even if I'm not present. I can ensure you that I have eyes everywhere." You ignore the way your stomach turns at the thought of someone else captivating Aemond as you thought on his proposal. It would be quite useful to have someone with such connections on your side. Shaking your head as you corrected yourself. There were no sides nor factions, you were not at war with Aemond. Yet.

"Can you tell me the name of this girl?"

"She goes by Alys Rivers, you may know of her...." It was almost comical enough to force a laugh.

A bastard Strong... How truly ironic and cliche. It would seem that the very vendetta he had against his own nephews would be the cause of his own demise. The pain that rushed through you didn't burn anymore, instead it courses through your veins in bittersweetness, fueling your vengeance and need for revenge. You didn't care all that much about closure, instead looking for all the ways you can induce the same pain onto Aemond. You were patient to a fault, all the unwanted emotions manifesting into pettiness and spite.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must be precise and conniving, you couldn't afford any spill ups. In truth the stature he built of himself was great; intimidating, undying, a menace. But beneath all that you knew he was still the same little boy that got bullied for not having a dragon. Scars like that cannot be grown out of, especially when they've left such permanent imprints on him. You were not going to evoke One Eye Aemond who rides the largest dragon, but rather the young little boy he held so dearly to his heart. That was the Aemond you wanted to hurt. Not the man that gave you blank stares and barely spoke any words to you. Not the man that dares call himself your husband when he has not deserved the name. The neglected outcast freak, that was who you were going to murder.

How dare he choose her over you. Suddenly it clouds your vision. All the violence, the fire, the insecurities. Your inability to think clear, the pride and pain of being his wife. Your lust and distaste for the man that caused you such pain. It ruptures your heart. You would trade love for greed just to induce the same feelings onto him. Oh how you wanted to ruin him. Ruin her for him. By the end of it you wanted him begging at your knees, crying apologies. Who does Alys Rivers think she was to steal your husband away from you. And who does Aemond think he was to assume you wouldn't retaliate. Or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care... That was a common theme in your husband, not caring about you. He was more of a fool than you thought of if he thinks you were just going to stand for this and take it.

No. You wanted an eye for an eye. Or more plainly, a heart for a heart.

"Her existence threatens you." Speaking lowly as you projected your thoughts onto Ser Larys. You aren't the only one to have a reason to hate the aforementioned wench. You may be hazed with hatred but you are not blind. There was a reason Ser Larys chose to come to you instead of Aemond with this information. Without him you wouldn't have known anything, and surely the favor of a prince would be worth more than you could ever give him. Yet he came knocking at your door.

"I am the sole heir to my fathers title, if that bastard had somehow managed to persuade the prince then my very seat is challenged. An outsider amongst the natives. I need to ensure my status, my lady. Can I trust you on this." His words were frantic almost, his long brown hair falling over his face as he leaned in close. Ser Larys was pleading, in his own way...

"You can. Now, my friend... what will you have me do?" The smile that spread across your face was sinister as you prompted his guidance. Though it was more rhetorical, you knew what had to be done.

"Seduce Aemond. Capture his attention enough so that he begins to question his love for her." Love? Was that burned between them? Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you thought on it more. It wasn't a bad design, far better than you stabbing a knife through Alys in front of Aemond. Only one minor flaw.

"And how shall I manage to do that!? The man can barely look at me!"

"To the unseeing eye it appears that way. Though the amount of times I've caught his gaze lingering longer than it should is great. You are a smart woman y/n, I'm sure you can figure out a way to break through his barrier."

Could it be that all this time you just hadn't noticed him looking at you? Regardless that was irrelevant as you pondered your first move. You and Larys had the advantage, Aemond doesn't know that you knew of his infidelity. And as far as you're aware your image as his good little wife was still intact, so perhaps you would play into that role more. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize that you've grown stiff as a board. It dulls you as you realize that you've come to be the very woman you pray for. Desperately lost in their marriage. Endlessly dreaming, hoping one day Aemond would come around and play pretend with you. He was taking advantage of you without you knowing it. He sees your very being as something he can twist and turn in his palm like one of his daggers.

At a certain point he was bound to get cut.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must hurt that little boy. It had been weeks since your night with Ser Larys and silently you had been scheming. So far you remained indifferent, trying hard to make sure you aren't faltering by acting the same. It was a hard task that you've come to dread as you knew the cold truth behind his behaviors. At day he would be with you, by night he would be deep in her. You only began to notice the missing hours in your days and curse yourself for being so foolish. You thought long and hard about how you were going to approach the situation. Dissecting your husband under a magnifying glass whilst hiding behind timid smiles. And soon enough your praying and mute jealousy had manifested into the form of a golden haired beast bearing red and gold.

Ser Tyrin Lannister...

A handsome, charming young lord that has come to pay the crown a visit... Though you saw him for what he truly was, a prideful and egotistical man that's blinded by arrogance. The perfect pawn for your game. Truthfully, you only picked him out because he beared such acute resemblance to prince Aegon. The only difference in appearance was instead of the famed silver hair his was pure gold. You hoped that your choice of companion would strike a nerve with Aemond, seeing that he's spent so much of his youth being tormented by the image of the man.

And by the way he was glaring daggers at you and Tyrin, your expectations fall true. It was easy to manipulate the Lannister with sugar coated words and flirtatious giggles, the problem lied with Aemond taking the bait. Up until this point you were basically going off theory, but now you can trust that Aemond was a possessive man.

Your laugh rings through the room as you giggle at something Tyrin whispered in your ear. The man was indeed charismatic which made talking to him easy enough. If you hadn't diluted him to nothing but a playing piece you would have found yourself actually enjoying his company. You had been acquainted for quite some time now, ever since his first arrival, and everyday without fail you were with him. Slowly but surely you had began replacing Aemond with Tyrin in your life. It was him you went on walks with, it was him you dinned with. There was no doubt that Lannisters had vanity and he was aware of it, he was aware of how his gracious gifts won you over and softened you. Or so he thought. In weeks time you had managed to accumulate a collection of gold and ruby jewelries from the man himself.

Something Aemond has not taken kindly to, seeing the way his jaw would clench everytime you adorned the treasures. At this point you had purposely made a show of it, parading in a red and gold gown with massive ruby earrings dangling from your ears. All while you showcased a brilliant ruby and gold choker around your neck. You looked more like Tyrin's wife than Aemond's and perhaps that was your goal. Though honestly your endgame gets lost on you as you're having so much fun toying with him. No doubt Aemond had begun to pick up on your absence and it was hilarious to see. His worries and insecurities must've gotten the best of him because now you can't go anywhere without him trailing behind. He was always there, watching in silence, perhaps judging you but you did not care. The fact of the matter was, whatever you were doing was working.

"If you stare any longer I'm sure a fire will start to burn." Aegon says dryly from beside his brother, looking down at his empty chalice before placing it down all together. The elder rolled his eyes at the familiar 'hmmm' that escaped Aemond as he opens his mouth to say something but he turns mute. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the sight.

Contrary to popular belief, Aegon was not a complete fucking asshole. Well... sometimes he wasn't... He sensed his brothers discomfort greatly and although he didn't want to pry, he wanted to know what laid within the inner workings of Aemond's mind. Call it care or intrigue, but he loved gossip like an old widowed wife. Fact of the matter was, Aegon Targaryen was painful self aware and it didn't take much to figure out that Tyrin Lannister was him in lions clothing. Of course Tyrin was him if he actually tried and excelled at things. His drunken habits aside, he wanted to know why his sister in law was so taken by him with golden hair....

"He looks like me..." Aegon turns to his brother only to notice him swiftly walking away at his words. He turns to the man once more, brows pulling in contempt. Maybe he should have been born a Lannister....

To say that Aemond was irritated was an understatement. It was all so ridiculous. The fact that you were throwing yourself so carelessly for a man such as that imbecile. All Lannisters were dazzling armors with nothing truly potent inside. They were blinded by shine and glimmer just as much as everyone else was from their looks. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the resemblance Ser Tyrin had to his brother was uncanny. And he wouldn't dare admit that these unbecoming feelings were derived from that fact alone. Call Aemond what you will, a bitter husband, a possessive man, but he did not like what was playing out in front of him.

Over the passing weeks you had devoted your attention to that man and him alone. From the moment you awoke you were dressed in red and gold, throughout the day you were by his side. He no longer saw you and you no longer sought for his attention. He thought it'd be nice, to finally get you off his back but everyday he grows increasingly impatient. Were you not his wife? He knows he doesn't have a proper claim over you especially with how he's been acting but he still owned his emotions. And he was allowed to feel however he wanted to. Although he doesn't speculate any infidelity from your end, mainly because you weren't the type in his eye, it was plain that you were taken by a lion. Whether you knew it or not, you were dancing with a beast and Aemond would not take such defeat.

In all honesty, he's certain you aren't fucking Tyrin. Now perhaps that was just wishful thinking fueling his denial but you weren't exactly the type. All your marriage he's known you as nothing but dull... The perfect embodiment of who his parents wanted him to marry. Kind, respectable, a push over... In his opinion you were devoted to a fault. Seeing you as nothing but mindless doll who had no other choice but to fall in line and agree with whoever owned them. Hence why when seeking companionship he purposely chose some the exact opposite of you. Alys was older by a few years and had all the experience he craved. It was no question why that he sought for her instead of you. Word around the castle was that you were thought to be too pious to succumb to sins of temptation unless duty was in order.

He hadn't meant to grow so attached to Alys but she was exhilarating. Everytime they were apart he yearned for her body. She was captivating and alluring in all senses, intoxicating him. With long brown hair and a figure that could make the gods envious, she held him with a death grip. His Alys. Aemond knew that what he had with her wasn't love but more so addiction, but he didn't care what it was just as long as he got to have more of it. The differences between you and Alys were stark to see, you were at polars end. But what drawned him to her was the fact that she was so aware of her touch. He liked women that knew how to wield a weapon, and he quite honestly couldn't picture you doing the same. They called her many names for her beauty, searing her as a witch for her dominion over man.

If he wanted an enchantress you would give it to him. You would be better than Alys in every way imaginable. If he wanted someone who can satisfy him then you would drive him into the brink of madness with your touch. You wanted to suffocate and flush out Aemond Targaryen till he was no more than a shell. It started off slow. Switching your clothing in favor of another, something more hugging and accentuating. Your old gowns so colorful and modest were now replaced with darker tones that showed off your body well. It was an odd switch but you felt more comfortable this way strangly enough.

Then you traded innocent stares for something more bidden, your once doe eyes turning siren as you realize the effects of you had. Perhaps Aemond cheating on you was a blessing in disguise. You only now realize how good it felt to be wanted. All throughout court, men and women a like would fall in line for you. They would bow if you commanded so. You looked like someone to be taken seriously and not so much like a walking virtue. Everytime you entered a room eyes would be on you, the silent respect your new aura demanded was intoxicating. You knew who you were and what you were capable of, it was time for them now to know too.

It was empowering. You felt Immortal and unchallenged. To have them speak so nervously to you, the shy stares and permanent blushes. Your new change had prompted many curiosities but what captures people so was your attitude. Cunning, sly and quick witted, all the aspects of your being that you suppressed. You had never felt this in control all your life, like the tides were moved by your will.

All your life you've been taught to be one way despite your true wishes. You painted yourself as the image of what a lady was supposed to be without understanding why you were doing it. Or who you were doing it for. Perhaps this is why the change was so liberating, because you no longer chose to hide yourself. Maybe this was who you were all along and just needed a push to embrace it. You no longer felt like you were wearing a mask and truthfully you don't think you could ever put it on again. Not when they all doted around you. Not they all craved for you. Not when you had such power over desires.

They all fell into line... all but Aemond.... but you had something special for him. For now you let his judgment cloud him. You doubt that he's picked up on your facade faltering. It was quite strange to embrace the very values your teaching went against. Sensuality, unkept emotions, temptation. Having been guided to act one way only to realize that people yearned for the other more. To switch from being subdued to domineering. You no longer let people tell you what to do and how truly inebriating it was.

                                           〄

"You are intoxicating...."

You know not how much time has passed, only consumed on Tyrin's lips as he grasped your body all over. Laughing when his teeth grazed your neck, you threw your head back in bliss. Maybe this was what the Septa was trying to keep you away from, the overwhelming sensations of sex. It rushes through you, sending your skin on fire in it's wake. God, he knew how to please you so. Giggling into your ear as his golden locks curtain the sinful things he whispered, Tyrin's fingers expertly yanks your skirt up. You let him pin you to the bed, a stupid smile spreading across your face. If such an act was so bad then why on earth did it feel so good?

How exhilarating it was to be desired, to be wanted and fondled with care. And to think, all this time you had spent rotting away in your bed chambers waiting for Aemond. If he would not satisfy you then you would satisfy yourself, fulfillment taking the form of a rogue lover. Perhaps it was messy to set your eyes on the men of the court but maybe that's what you wanted. You like the thrill of getting caught, liked the rumors that murmured through the halls. Although you hadn't slept with anyone but Tyrin, you couldn't contain yourself from teasing the occasional lord and lady. Naturally, word got around of your effects and of you and Tyrin's speculated affairs. And not so long after, word finally traveled to your dear stupid husband. Though it wasn't until he caught you in the middle of the act did he finally take it seriously. Up until this point they were but toothless claims, not believing his tight laced wife would ever be capable enough to find her own back bone.

"Faster.... faster..." You say through half lidded eyes, blurry vision locked onto the man in between your legs. Your fingers intertwined with his golden hair as you guide his head at your will. Body heaving and grinding up against his mouth. You pull at your skirts more to get a better view of his face.

All was falling into place and you would make your first strike as footsteps approached up the hall. You were nearing ecstasy as your eyes stay trained onto the door. You had perfectly timed everything and in a manner of seconds you would land such a blow so harsh that it would shatter Aemonds views of you. His boring and dull, obedient little wife coming undone by a man that was not him. You suppress a moan as Tyrin slips his middle finger in you, fucking you in and out as his lips wrap around your swollen clit. Almost there, almost there....

Oh it was all too much yet not enough at the same time. It floods you, sending you over the edge as you desperately grasp onto the bed covers. And at the sound of the door opening you let out a series of gasps turned moans as you lock eyes with the cause of your downfall. The look on his face was satisfaction enough, but you wanted more. Eyes closing in bliss as your head falls onto the bed, a laugh so sinister rings through the room. You pull your skirt over to hide your exposed skin as you smile up at Tyrin. Drawing him close to place a long loving kiss on his lips, you nod your head out the door, whispering empty promises of later. Aemond watches the whole exchange, mouth clenched and fists balled. As the man walked past him and out the door Aemond had to physically stop himself from mauling him and setting him on fire.

There was no doubt about it, he was angry. Shaking in place much like you had in your seat weeks ago. He didn't know what these emotions were blossoming in his chest but he didn't like it. It burned in a way so violent he fears that a hole may form in his chest. He does nothing for a few moments, simply standing in place eyeing you like a predator to it's prey. You do the same, putting all your body weight on your elbow as you laid on the bed unmoving. If he expected a stream of desperate apologies to fall from your mouth then he was not going to get it. You looked at eachother with much venom and alcohol. The gratification you got coursed through you as the image he had witnessed stayed forever burned in his brain.

Good. You wanted him to remember that forever. Much like you'll remember his actions towards you for eternity. Suddenly you were angry. Angry at him, angry at his fucking Alys, angry at Ser Larys. Snarling in hate as your gaze hardens you force yourself to speak.

"Get out." The words were cold, and for a moment Aemond flinches as it echoed through the walls. He does what you command, harshly shutting the door behind him and you fall onto the bed once more.

What had you done?

You were getting even. You wouldn't be here if he hadn't have provoked you first. Truthfully, you didn't know what scared you more, the fact that you could have potentially ruined your marriage or how absolutely addicting it was to inflict pain onto him. One things for certain though, you weren't done.

Aemond didn't know what to feel. He was a mess of emotions, lashing out at anything and everything in his way. A part of him knew that this was only fair yet why did it hurt him so bad? He thought he didn't care about you, thought you were a mere pawn in this game but it appeared that all this time you were playing him. All of it is a mystery to him as he begins to think on your relationship more. What parts of you were actually real, which was really you and which was his wife? Were your affections for him true and had he hurt you so? All this time he thought you were playing a role, or maybe you were. Because the girl laying on that bed laughing like the stranger was not his wife.

No, she was a demon. A succubus getting off on his pain. All of it is so confusing, the bruises you left dragging him down into the depths. Yet why did it excite him a little... Watching you like that.... Aemond feels as though he couldn't breathe, the remaining fragments of his heart shriveled at the thought of falling victim to weakness. He would not allow this, he wouldn't allow a man like Tyrin Lannister to best him and steal you away. The sorrow he felt was akin to an old friend, the bittersweetness that plagued his soul reminded him of his youth. This was a feeling he promised himself he would never endure again. The feeling of being less than and not enough. He had failed you. He had failed you so bad that you had to go seeking for another. Now he knew that he was being a hypocrite on that but he was vulnerable.

Being vulnerable was not something Aemond Targaryen was used to.

〄

"You aren't to see him again." Aemond yelled, trailing after the girl as you entered your shared chambers. The space thankfully empty as you ignored his impending attitude. Your breath quickens as you find yourself caught in a rather unpleasant situation. It had been merely an hour since that gurly sight with Ser Tyrin Lannister, and Aemond finds himself losing all remaining composure he had left with you.

"Huh?" There was something rather vexing about your tone that proved to be daggers in Aemond's ears. The way you expressed such profound boredom and taciturn, as if this conversation was an inconvenience to you. You displayed an tired exposure that puzzled him to no end because the confrontation has yet to begin. Your slack demeanor and annoyed undertone was both riddling and infuriating to Aemond.

"Ser Tyrin Lannister, you aren't allowed to see him again!" Deciding to forgo any avoidance, Aemonds tone was cut clean. He told you how it was, and he did not care about preserving feelings when you were showing such childish behavior. You would either accept never seeing that man, or any man for that matter again, or Aemond would turn to more extreme measures.

"Well... who knew it was possible to evoke such emotions from you. And here I thought you were incapable." Aemond's eye widen in shock as you put on an uncharacteristic display of theatrics. You scoffed and silently berated him with your inflection. This was a side of you he's never seen before. It was a tiny probe that was meant to provoke him by angling into his worries in a brash and unnecessary way. Aemond didn't know whether or not you were intentionally trying to anger him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if it was deliberate or not.

"...I beg your pardon?" His words wry and barren with any emotions, genuinely taken aback.

"Well then kneel and start begging." You turn to him sharply, backing him against the door as he looked down at you in shock, yet you don't back down.

"You can't tell me what to do. But if you wish to keep believing that you have some sort of power over me, I will try my best to be more discreet with my partners." You wave your hand at him, as if done with this conversation but he was far from finished.

"I will not have you acting like a whore y/n! You are my wife and mine alone!" Aemond did not mean to call you that but as the words slip from his lips he soon finds himself regretting it. Watching the way you hesitated for a moment, a flash of hurt gleaming on your face before turning angry. He knew men have called their wives much worse but not him. His mother had always made sure he knew how to treat women. If only she knew how that back fired...

A whore....

He thought that you were a whore......

Normally you wouldn't let such meaningless words effect you so but that was exactly it, it wasn't  meaningless. Not when it came from the mouth of the person you once thought the world of. Aemond used to be everything to you, and to hear that coming from him was disheartening to no end. Yes you knew that he was just angry because you pushed him so, but that fact became irrelevant as you begin to feel claustrophobic from your emotions. You felt frail, burning with a thick blanket of insecurities and rage constricting you, like a greedy serpent, ready to prey and corrupt you whole. You felt like Alice, falling into a dark rabbit hole of anxiety and panic, despair beginning to pull you down. It was all too much, and you suddenly began to feel so small. Your once defiance now subdued and replaced with the image of a shaking girl maddened. You felt afraid... not of Aemond but of your emotions...

Compose yourself, you were not going allow such disrespect and you were not going to fall into your old ways again.

"Don't play the fool, Aemond. You started this. Quite honestly what did you think was going to happen?" You yelled firmly in his face, trying so hard to push your emotions away. But thoughts of Alys tainted your mind. He would never speak to her this way. He would never act this way around her. You let the bitterness hug and empower you. The same need to hurt him reignited.

"I am simply playing the game that you started." You were reticent but in a prolix and unnecessary way. You would not reveal that he had hurt you so. Aemond opens his mouth to say something but doesn't for a few moments.

"What prompted this change..." He sounded desperate, his words breaking as he desperately searched for an answer.

"I don't know! Maybe now I don't feel the need to hide behind a mask anymore." You say to him honestly. This need for revenge and affinity for spite and pettiness, it had always been there. Aemond just didn't look at you long enough to notice it.

"I'm tired Aemond. I'm tired of doing my best to please you only for it to not be good enough!"

It wasn't just about you or Aemond being possessive anymore, it was the fact that you had reached your end. Was it so wrong to want a partner that actually loved and cared for you? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? The more you thought the more empty and hollow you felt. You can feel your soul decaying all together as anxiety crept up on you. He didn't want you.... The little voice in your head spoke. He thinks Alys is better than you..... stop... Why do you try so bad? because I must... You don't deserve to be with him... yes I do... No you don't... The voices in your head taunted, feeling feverish and flushed, you took a step back from Aemond. Suddenly afraid to be too close to him. But it did no help to calm the mean words the whirlwind through your brain. It picked at you, in a way that the thought of Alys couldn't but funny enough it was the personification of her plaguing your mind.

He doesn't think you're good enough...

I don't think you're good enough...

He doesn't think you're good enough...

We don't think you're good enough...

It's not just her anymore, the voice that invades your head is your parents speaking to you..... Then it's the King and Queen screaming... And after that it's Aegon and Helaena laughing at you...

It's Aemond talking down to you, —it's everything, it's everyone, all at once, all-consuming, suffocating and demanding. And suddenly the ability to hear is ripped from you; it's nothing. You're forced into a pliable mass being sullied, your body isn't yours anymore. It's a vessel of flooding anxiety and negative thoughts.

"I want somebody that loves me...." You say, looking at the man with such betrayal.

Be strong....

"I want a happy life with a husband that can actually stand to be in my presence. I want children of my own to fill the hole you left." You spoke after a short minute, your voice small and fragile, pleading... Aemond watches you shake and cry from where you stand. He had done this to you...

"I have spent so long loving you but that love has never served me..." Your words were soft, a timbre of spite concealed with broken confidence. You hated this... hated how you got in your own head and ruined your own self esteem... Pain feeding off your scorched heart and the embers of your love for Aemond. It was agonizing... agonizing to watch him look at you cry like this. But perhaps he needed to see you this way.

He had hurt you so badly and the moment he finally got a taste of his own medicine he ordered you to stop. It was the consuming fear of not being enough for him that killed you so, the thought of not being able to live up to the expectations. And for Aemond to stand there and call you a whore when all you ever did was try to love him.

"Forgive me my dear wife... I did not know that you have been suffering so badly all this time. Had I known...." He softens for a moment, trying to get you to understand whilst failing to consider that you didn't need to, he did.

"But you did! You knew and you still went off in search for something I cannot give you. Had you have known would it have changed anything?" You scream in broken anger and despair.

"No..."

You never learn, hearing it in your own head was a lot different than hearing it out loud. It will never be the same, it will always be ten times worse. Aemond had just confirmed your words. Of course you knew that he thought this way but it hurt a lot more. Just like that night with Ser Larys. Your shoulders slump in defeat, frowning as tears began to prick at your eyes. Aemond takes notice of this, swiftly cupping your cheeks with his large hands and forcing you to look him.

"No, because either way you would have been discontent. I cannot give you the life that you wanted." Yet you can give it to her?

"Why not!?" You yelled with such anger and rage, ripping his hands off you. Your voice echoing through the room as you cussed the boy out. You were frustrated beyond measure and above all else heartbroken. Was it truly too much to ask for? You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having him treat you like this. Maybe weeks ago you would've swoon at the thought of his hands caressing you. But that was then and this was now.

"I am not made for love..." You fear that you can slay Vhagar with the great efforts it takes you now to remain calm. That was his excuse? A pitiful one at that. He had you standing there.... sad and broken... and all he can come up with was that love wasn't in his nature? Pain is the perfect word to describe this sensation oppressing your chest at those words. This doesn't stop you from peering up at him in question. You felt a calling to yell at him but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted to you. Staying baffled, every cry dying in the back of your throat. Your visage contorting in somber at Aemonds blasphemy.

"I don't believe you!" You yell at him, pushing at his chest when he tries to hug you. You break down in his arms, collapsing onto the floor as you weep into him. Aemond desperately held you close, oh what has he done to you.... He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him. Guilt, sadness, shame... He was ashamed he pushed you to this point. So he held the woman he barely knew well enough to call his wife.

"Tell me Aemond! Does your heart belong to another? Tell me now, please and I'll stop." You didn't know what you meant by stop. Stop trying? Stop loving? But if he said the words you would end it so. Aemond looks down at you, hugging onto the portrait that was once his wife.

"No! No one has captured my heart, those who came second to you, they mean nothing. They are nothing..." He says quickly, his words ringing truthful. He didn't know what prompted this new change but he panicked at the thought of losing you.

"Prove it to me." You whispered slowly. Uttering the words in a tone so cold and firm, your gaze locks onto Aemond's. Your wide eyes morphing into something else as a small smirk pulls at your lips. Distraught gone from your face as the water flow of tears halt.

"Bring me the head of Alys Rivers."

"How do you know..." He looks at you in shock for a moment, your expression ridden of distress and replaced with something sinister.... Watching his expression carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.

"Do it and I will be yours again." It came out as a pur, a tempting whisper urging him, and Aemond found himself liking the way it sounded. That was Aemond's cord. He was as possessive as he was jealous. Much like you, he didn't like being second to anyone, but would that be enough. Turning your head to meet his gaze, it would be so easy to kiss you but he keeps a firm hold on your waist.

"If not then I will take it myself." Nodding your head briefly, you remove his arms from around you. Standing up, you walk over to your shared bed, wiping away the rogue tears before sitting down. Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion, you were much more composed now and hidden behind your eyes was a sense of coldness.

"It appears that I have much to learn about you my lovely wife. But If it will please you then as you wish." Aemond stands soon after you, nodding his head as he planned to make amends.

"You're willing to kill her just like that?" Turning your head to him slightly, you questioned where his loyalty lied.

"I told you she means nothing to me... Did you think otherwise?" His sly expression displayed a certain vainglory that caused you to turn away. So maybe you had thought otherwise but your insecurities had to come from somewhere.

"If you're lying to me Aemond I will have your other eye." Threatening may not be the answer but you liked the hesitancy it triggered from him.

"I suppose this is my fault.... you don't trust me." Nodding his head as he walked slow steps towards you, Aemond kneels down in front of the bed and takes your hands in his.

"You have given me every reason not to trust you." With a stiff lip, you turn from him.

"I know... But let me make it right." Guiding your chin with his fingers to make you look at him, you noticed a hint of regret and shame swimming in his eye.

"The road to forgiveness will not be easy." You tell him firm.

"I know... my love." You ignore the butterflies that awoke from that title and watch as he rose to grab his riding coat. And so it begins...

༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻

Autho's Note:

Let me know if you guys want more! There's more to this story but I chopped it up into two parts because I wasn't done and I wanted to have something out for you guys. I swear to god I drop fics unannounce then dissappear for months lmao.

- Armoni

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 26

Word Count: 4.0K Paring:  Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Requested by @elizabeth916: "Supernatural" Prompt @kinktober2023: Masturbation WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), slight voyeurism, vaginal fingering, masturbation, joint masturbation

Summary: After a hard life and a close brush with death via vampire, (Y/N) is taken in by Bobby Singer and taught the way of the hunters, even if that was the last thing he wanted for her. Add Dean and Sam Winchester into the mix, and she's more involved in the hunter lifestyle than before. Now, Dean is always always at odds with the girl. Even if he was the one who asked her to join them, he's always the one getting in her way. Sam says it's because he's in love with her. (Y/N) just thinks he's stubborn. One way or another, she's gonna find out they're both kind of right.

A/N: whoop, still doing this, I will try to finish before this october 🫣🫣 I've only gotten to season 5 of Supernatural so sorry this isn't more canon-centric

MASTERLIST

Constantly being on the road provided little privacy. Being the only girl in a team of hunters made it harder to have some. Being the only girl in a team of hunters that were brothers made it nearly impossible to have any. 

But (Y/N) couldn’t complain. The Winchesters were the closest thing she had to a family, and they needed her help. 

She had lost her parents at a young age and had made a life for herself as best as she could. She was sent from foster home to foster home until, at eighteen, she met Bobby Singer by chance during one of his hunts. 

A couple of days before, she had been kidnapped by a young vampire as she walked from work and took her back to his nest, where she was fed upon from the moment she arrived. She believed she’d die there with nothing to show for her life other than a rundown apartment and a shitty waitressing job. 

But just as everything had seemed bleak, Bobby had come in swinging a machete around and killed every single one of the vampires that had resided in the abandoned warehouse. Seeing the girl who was barely clinging to life, the man took her back to his motel and waited until she had regained consciousness. 

He was sure she would scream, try to run away, or even hit him. Yet all she did was flutter her eyes open and thank him. She wasn’t afraid, nor was she angry. She had simply accepted what had happened to her as something else she had to deal with. 

“You really ain’t scared of everything I just told you?” he had asked her that night as they ate some burgers. “I mean, I just told you that you almost died because of vampires, and you were more surprised that they put pickles in your burger.” 

“I’ve dealt with worse shit in my life to find the supernatural unbelievable,” she shrugged. “With how my life goes, dying from a vampire is the least of my worries.” 

Bobby had only met one other teenager as nonchalant and used to peril, and he had not been able to help him as much as he wanted to. But he knew he would always regret if he left (Y/N) to her own devices after meeting her. So, Bobby offered her a chance at a different life. Going against everything he had ever believed, he offered her a room at his place and a new job. And she said yes. 

That answer had changed her entire existence. 

(Y/N) took to the hunting lifestyle rapidly, finding it easier than being an eighteen-year-old girl living by herself in a sketchy part of town. She invested all her time and energy to get stronger and faster, wanting nothing more than to become better and better.

Bobby tried his best to keep her life balanced, especially after seeing what the hunting life had done to John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam. For years, he pushed her to have a social life and do things normal young people would. Still, he couldn’t squander her determination. So, when Dean called her up one day to help him and his brother find their father, she quickly agreed, much to Bobby’s dismay. 

But once her mind was set on something, there wasn't much he could do; all he could do was hope she’d one day come back safe and sound. 

And that was the day she had lost all sense of privacy. The trio jumped from motel to motel, and there was not enough money for two rooms. Thankfully, there always were two beds and sometimes a rickety couch, not that it helped the choking sexual tension between (Y/N) and the older Winchester. 

From the moment they met, there was an undeniable chemistry between them. Sure, Dean flirted with anything that walked on two legs, but it was different with (Y/N). He wanted much more than just a one-night lay with her. He wanted the entire package–the apple pie life he’d dreamed of. 

But he wanted something different for her—something better than what he could offer. Like Bobby, he didn’t want her involved in the hunting business. He had even begged Bobby not to let her go. But Sam was right. If they had any chance of finding their father, it would have been with her by their side. Just because he had agreed to let her tag along did not mean he didn’t worry whenever they were on a mission. If he wasn’t making sure that Sam wasn’t hurt, he was worried that (Y/N) was, and more often than not, his concern came out more like hostility rather than worry. 

Much like their latest case. The three of them were sat at a diner, a giant breakfast spread on the table before them, and the only one eating was Dean. (Y/N) and Sam had their noses buried in books and laptops, trying to gather all information they could about a particular nest of vampires that had made their home in a small town outside of Detroit. 

The case was particularly personal for (Y/N). The vamps that had been running amok the town had been the same ones that had almost taken her life many years before. Just like Bobby had told her, they left an item of the person they abducted with a star drawn in their blood at the place they were taken from. The creatures looked for easy targets and always hunted in the darkest corners of the night. 

Now, (Y/N) had a plan to get to their nest, but it seemed she was the only one who thought it was a good one. “I’m just saying that it’s worth a try,” she whispered as she sipped her coffee. “I can make myself a target, and they’ll think it’s fucking divine intervention that they got the one that got away. Then you guys can follow and kill them all. I don’t see what’s so bad about that.” 

“Are you fucking serious, (Y/N)?” Dean seethed. “They could kill you on the spot. It’s too risky.”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got right now that could actually end this,” she countered. “Even Sam thinks that it’s good.” 

“All I said was that it could technically work,” the younger Winchester defended. “But I also agree with Dean that it’s too dangerous.” 

“I don’t care if I get hurt as long as we get them.” 

“It’s not about you getting hurt, (Y/N),” Dean spat, slamming what was left of his sandwich onto the plate. “It’s about you fucking dying.” 

“Well, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she countered with the same anger. “It’s my life we’re talking about here, Dean. Not yours.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth as he got up, grabbing his jacket in the process. “I’ll be in the room. I need to cool off.” 

Sam and (Y/N) watched as the older Winchester left the diner, a cloud of steam almost visible in his step. It wasn’t the first time he had stormed out that way; it was his standard practice when things weren’t going according to his plan. But that moment, in particular, felt different. The energy was different. 

“Okay, he needs to get over himself,” the girl muttered as she slouched in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest. “You guys cannot be the only ones allowed to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good. I know I can get hurt. I signed up for this job just like you guys did.” 

“I don’t know who’s more oblivious,” Sam snickered as he popped a slice of bacon in his mouth. “You seriously don’t understand why he acts like that with you?” 

“Because he’s a total douche with a god-complex?” 

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “Because he likes you and cares about what happens to you.” 

“Oh, come on, Sammy. We’ve been through this before,” (Y/N) said. “The only things Dean Winchester cares about are his car and you. I don’t even fall in the top five.” 

“Jesus, you’re both just so stubborn,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Go talk to him, and then tell me if he doesn’t care.”

“He’s just gonna fight with me.” 

“Go, (Y/N),” Sam exclaimed. “And actually talk to him.” 

“Fine!” the young woman finally relented. “But you’re getting stuck with the research then.” 

“Like that’s ever changed,” he scoffed jokingly. “Now, go.” 

(Y/N) took the short walk back to the motel as slowly as she could, kicking a rock in her step as she fiddled with the key. It wasn’t the first time Sam had hinted at Dean’s supposed feelings for her. It had become his one source of teasing material since they had met for the first time. But she had always taken it as a joke, nothing more—just a quip a little brother used to bother his older brother. There was no way there was any truth to it. And if going to the room proved that, then that was what (Y/N) had to do. 

As she neared the motel, she caught a glimpse of Baby, and a slight chuckle bubbled in her throat. That car was Dean’s one true love, and she knew that. He treated his vehicle better than any of the women he paraded in and out of their motel rooms or even the ones who never made it out of the bars. Hell, he treated it better than her or Sam at times. 

That was the reason she had never admitted her feelings in the almost eight years she had known him. (Y/N) knew they wouldn’t be reciprocated. Dean had never given a single indication that he’d ever share her sentiment. Well, other than Sam’s words. But who could believe him then? 

All she needed was one sign. A simple whisper from the universe that he did share in those feelings. That the reason he fought with her so much was because there were so many emotions bottled up inside him that he couldn’t help how they came out. Just one sign. 

“(Y/N),” she heard an exhale as she neared the motel door. It was raspy and guttural, and she knew it had not come from the wind. “Fuck, (Y/N).” 

She could have been dreaming. In the supernatural world, anything was possible. But the metal doorknob felt too cold in her hand, and the key turned too loudly for it to be her imagination. Behind that door, a scene was unfolding that surpassed her wildest fantasies, and she was the main character without knowing it. 

(Y/N) opened the door slowly, pulling it upward to avoid the whining of the hinges, and she came face-to-face with something she could have only dreamed of. In fact, she was sure she had dreamt it before. 

Dean was splayed in the middle of her bed, his hard cock in one hand and a pair of her underwear in the other. He ran his hand up and down his length, easing his pumping with the leaking precum that stained him. After every few strokes, he’d bring the piece of fabric to his face, taking a long drag before muttering (Y/N)’s name once more. 

His eyes were pressed shut, and his movements were erratic. Dean was close, that much she could tell. She could see it in the way he breathed, in the way his hips stuttered, and the way his skin had grown red and flushed. Dean was reaching his climax with her name spilling from his tongue. 

“So fucking stubborn,” he croaked out as his seed spilled all over his stomach. “(Y/N), fu~uck.” 

“Good to know my underwear didn’t just disappear three months ago,” she grinned as she finally made herself known. “Didn’t take you for a panty sniffer, Deanie.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean exclaimed as he tried his best to cover himself. He pulled the sheets from under himself, pulling too hard and falling to the floor with a loud thud. “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough to know who you were thinking about,” (Y/N) taunted as she approached him. His legs were still on the bed, and his jeans pooled around his ankles while the sheet covered the rest of his body. At any given time, she would have made fun of him; tease him until he begged her to stop. But the heat that pooled between her legs had blurred her mind, and all that she wanted was to replace the hand that was working him. “Something you wanna tell me, Dean?”  

“God, you’re insufferable,” Dean huffed as he tried to get up. “It’s not what you think.” 

“And what do I think, Deanie? What did I just walk into?” 

“I just needed to relieve some stress.” 

“Oh, and do you always relieve your stress thinking of me?” (Y/N) mewled as she knelt down, her breath hot on his skin as she whispered in his ear. He stiffened up at her closeness, trying his best not to touch her. “See what I think, Deanie, is that what Sam’s been telling me is the truth. That you like me and that you care about me. And since daddy never taught you how to express yourself correctly, you just let everything out when you’re angry.” 

Those words ignited a fire in Dean. He no longer cared about his lack of clothing or the situation (Y/N) had caught him in. All he wanted was to regain control. “You think you’re funny, huh?” he growled as he flipped her onto the ground and towered over her. “You think that just because you caught me like this, you know everything now?” 

“I know enough,” she smirked up at him as she fought against his grip. “Matter of fact, I can feel it against my leg right now.” 

“And you think it’s for you? You think you’re the only (Y/N) out there?” 

“I’m the only one you know,” she teased. “And I’m the one whose panties you were sniffing.” 

“It’s just a matter of convenience, (Y/N),” he shrugged. “You’re here. That’s that.” 

“Are you sure, Dean? Because I’ve never seen you hoard the underwear of any of your past playdates. So, why mine? And why were you jacking off with my name rolling off your tongue?” (Y/N) propped her torso up by her elbows, pressing the tip of her nose to his, testing the waters before diving in. “And what if I told you I felt the same way, Deanie? What if I said that I’ve thought of you with my own hand down my pants? That I’ve edged myself for hours thinking of what you could do to me. And it’s not a matter of convenience for me, Dean. It’s the real deal.” 

Dean couldn’t believe what the woman under him was saying. He’d gone so long thinking his feelings were one-sided that Sam only told him the things he wanted to hear. To him, (Y/N) was too smart and too beautiful ever to want to be with him. He wasn’t what she deserved, but now he knew he was what she wanted. 

“Tell me you’re messing with me,” he grumbled. “Tell me this is just one big joke.” 

“Why do you want me to lie to you, Dean? Is it so hard to believe that someone can feel something for you? That I love you?”

“You don’t mean that,” he continued. “How would you know what you feel is real? It’s not like you have a lot of options on the road.” 

“Because I’ve felt like this from the moment I met you, Dean,” she confessed. Her heart had begun hammering inside her chest, begging for a moment of rest. But that was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing she needed. “Why don’t you want to believe that I could feel this way about you?” 

“Because you deserve better, (Y/N),” he muttered softly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear it. “I’m not better.”

(Y/N) knew words were not enough to calm the doubts that drowned his mind, but she knew how she could show it. With a smile on her face, she pulled one of Dean’s hands with her own as she unzipped her pants with her other. She moved their interlocked hands to the wetness that had pooled in her core, pressing his calloused fingers on the aching bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention. “I know what I deserve,” she hissed. “And I know what I want, Dean. I want you.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he argued. But his fingers were telling another story. As if by instinct, his digits had started circling her clit, rubbing circles and shapes over the bud. “I’m damaged goods, (Y/N). I’m no good.” 

“And I’m not better,” she added. “We all have a past, Dean. It can’t stop us from living in the present.” 

“Is that what you’re doing, then?” Dean chuckled. “Living in the present?” 

“We both are, Deanie,” (Y/N) grinned mischievously, knowing she had won him over. “As soon as you give in, baby.” 

“You win, then,” he smiled. “For now.” 

Dean pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s, savoring their softness and their warmth. It was everything he had imagined and more. They moved perfectly in sync, fitting into each other’s empty spaces like they had been crafted for each other. And maybe they were. Maybe they were part of some divine plan and had no idea. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. It was the fact that they were together that made everything just right. 

“So, is this all because of me?” Dean taunted as he teased her folds. “This how you always are?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed in pleasure. “I can’t help it when I’m with you.” 

“Wish I had known earlier,” he grinned deviously. “I would have been taking care of you, (Y/N).” 

“I think we’ve been taking care of ourselves quite well,” (Y/N) teased. “I mean, from what I saw today, you got your system down.” 

“Oh, is that so? That mean you got your system too?” 

“Well, I have not heard any complaints yet,” she chuckled. “I kind of know my body quite well.” 

“Show me then.” 

“What?” 

“Did I stutter?” Dean smiled. “Get up on the bed and show me how you touch yourself thinking of me, baby.” 

Dean slipped an arm under her legs and another on her back and carried her to the bed, where he laid her body softly on the mattress. He kissed his way down her body as he rid her of her clothes, revealing the valley of her skin and marking his path with his mouth. 

“Show me,” he said as he kissed down her legs. “Show me what you do.” 

“You gotta get off me first,” she chuckled. “Or are you gonna do the work for me?” 

“As tempting as that sounds, baby, we gotta even the fields here. And we don’t have much time.” 

With a slight chuckle, (Y/N) situated herself comfortably on the bed, propping her back up with a few pillows. Just enough so she could see Dean’s form. He had dragged a chair and rested it just at the foot of the bed, his eyes firmly trained on the woman’s body. 

Soon enough, (Y/N)’s hands set off to work instinctively. They roamed her body sensuously, squeezing and kneading her most sensitive spots. As they worked their way through her skin, one rested upon her breast as the other made its way between her legs. She spread her limbs wide, giving Dean the show of a lifetime as her digits spread her folds and gathered her wetness before landing on her aching clit.  

She knew it was her hands that were touching her, but her mind quickly tricked her into thinking it was Dean’s calloused fingers running across her body. In her head, it was him that was toying with her clit, it was him that was pinching her hardened nipples, it was him that was bringing her closer and closer to her awaited orgasm. 

But it was clear that it wasn’t. Where he sat, Dean had taken his hard cock back into his hand, pumping at the same rate (Y/N) was touching herself. He slid his hand up and down his length, using his thumb to circle the head as precum coated him. In his head, it was her hand wrapped around him, squeezing softly as he tried to ride out his climax as long as he could. 

“Fuck yourself, baby,” Dean groaned out. “I’m getting close here.” 

“I always knew you were always too fast to the finish line,” she teased, concealing a moan that burst through. “Might just call you two-minute Dean.” 

“You really know how to shatter the fantasy, (Y/N),” he sighed. “Just do it, baby.” 

“Alright, but stop talking, Dean. You’re wrecking my fantasy here.” 

After Dean finally quieted, stifling a moan that was bubbling, (Y/N) continued with her work. The hand that had been touching her chest slithered down her body, sinking into her core as her other hand continued her attack on her clit. 

Moans and pants left her as she pistoned into her cunt, her digits curling at the end to bring her that much closer to her climax. She could see how hard it was for the man before her to keep up with her speed. His skin had started to redden and beads of sweat had formed across his body. His chest heaved quickly, and his movements stuttered as he held onto whatever resolution he had left. 

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned. “I’m so close, baby.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he stammered. “Keep going. Cum for me, baby.” 

(Y/N)’s picked up speed as she felt the tight coil in the pit of her stomach threatening to snap. She had done that dance many times before, searching, pushing, beckoning her orgasm to the brink. But it was the first time the Dean that was before her was real, close enough she could touch him. Close enough he could touch her. 

It was that very thought that had her yelling out his name as her finish washed over her body, drenching her hands in her essence. Close behind, Dean burst across his stomach with her name dripping from his tongue, his eyes firmly trained on hers. 

Dean took her into another rough kiss as they came down from their respective orgasms, her lips so irresistible he didn’t care how out of breath he was. “God, you’re perfect,” he panted. “So fucking perfect, baby.” 

“Was that everything you had dreamed of?” (Y/N) teased with a grin. “Was that what was running through your head when I caught you?” 

“Something like that,” he chuckled as he caressed her cheek. “It was more of a contact sport, if you get what I’m saying.” 

“Well, we still got some time to kill before nightfall,” she offered. “And I’ve got enough for a round two.” 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.” 

As Dean kissed his way down (Y/N)’s neck, a knock on the door startled them apart, sending them scrambling for their clothes. 

“Guys?” Sam called from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay with you two? We really need to get ready for tonight.” 

“Fucking Sammy,” Dean grumbled quietly, his eyes rolling as he slipped his t-shirt on. “We were just getting done talking.” 

“No fighting?” 

“We were very civil, Sam,” (Y/N) called out, trying her best to swallow the laughter that was bubbling in her throat. The pair had gotten dressed in record time, fixing the bed and brushing their hair. She was slipping on her boots when she whispered to Dean, “We are definitely getting a raincheck on that round two, Dean.” 

“Oh, you betcha, baby,” he grinned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to be caught in the act.” 

“Just be grateful it was me and not Sam,” she smiled before kissing him once more. “Now, let’s go kill us some vampires.”

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[buckttommy]

umm. pause. guys. guys. gay tommy has been canon this entire time. what the fuck. like. oh my god. no. like. okay. okay. so. 2x9 (hen begins), sal [deluca] is talking about his girlfriend dragging him to see twilight. he makes a homophobic joke about tommy being team jacob and tommy's like "i don't even know what that means." chimney says "he's insinuating that you're gay" and tommy blows deluca a kiss. fine. whatever. but THEN you skip to 2x12 (chimney begins), and—i stg it's a blink and you miss it moment—tommy and gerrard (racist captain) are having this conversation in the background

tommy: what about that burger place? gerrard: tommy i hate that place. hey wasn't your girlfriend supposed to come and cook us dinner? tommy: uhh. next tuesday. gerrard: promise? tommy: uhh. uh. yes. yeah. i will promise.

and it's like. number one, this sounds like a conversation they've had before. something to the tune of "hey, how come you never bring your girlfriend around" which i can't help but think was intentional considering the members of the old 118 were entirely familiar with deluca's girlfriend gina. but number two, no straight man who has a girlfriend sounds that unsure that they have a fucking girlfriend. it was very much giving "ah yes. this human lady that i love that most definitely exists. absolutely. also i like breasts." and it's just like. ok. what the fuck. like. i don't know if this was the plan all along. i don't think it was. i still maintain buck/eddie were supposed to go canon after the shooting and the powers that be got in the way. but. but. the idea that this canon queer character has been hiding in plain sight (subtext) is just. wild to me. like. i've always headcanoned tommy as gay, mostly because every character he plays seems fruity as hell. but bro. i don't think it's a headcanon anymore. and i don't think it ever has been. what the fuck.

there's also the idea that. like. so i've been watching the begins episodes again trying to figure out what, exactly, tommy's crime against the members of the 118 has been. like. he worked in a -phobic/-cist environment. he was definitely complicit in making hen/chimney feel like outsiders in their workplace yes yes all these things are true. but as far as i can tell, tommy has rarely ever actively been anything except spineless. deluca makes a homophobic joke? tommy laughs. gerrard makes a bunch of sexist and racist comments? tommy looks, but doesn't say anything to encourage (or discourage him). hen gives her monologue? he looks chagrined.

and his complicity would be absolutely shitty and inexcusable if he was just a cishet white man. no questions asked. but if — if — you view his behavior through the lens of the fact that tommy is queer himself? that tommy is, and always has been, a member of a marginalized community who felt it was easier and safer to assimilate than it was to be openly queer and have a target on his back? his behavior becomes a whole hell of a lot more understandable. yes, it's still shitty, but. there's a purpose behind it. and this idea is supported by the fact that, when gerrard leaves (flashing forward to bobby begins again), even before bobby gets there (because we always credit bobby with making the 118 the family it is today), like. the atmosphere is completely different. tommy and hen? are friendly with each other. chimney and tommy? also friendly with each other. which we also know because in 2x14 broken, he calls him up for help. which lends credibility to the idea that the problems tommy had (or thought he had) with henchim were not about them as people but more about whatever manufactured conservative boys club bullshit gerrard fostered.

and it's just like. motherfucker. bitch. what the hell. like. first of all, leave it to 9-1-1 to tell a story like this in the most subtle way possible. like if that was indeed the intended implication, i'm throwing my tv off a bridge immediately. but also. second of all. what is wrong with this show. they're crazy. i want to eat it like a loaf of bread. just shovel it in my mouth because the idea that tommy has been queer all along, that he wasn't brought back just to be a stopgap on buck's queer journey to eddie, but that he's been haunting the edges of the narrative like a gay ghost is sooo like. ohhh. okay. [throws up]. like????? okay. anyway. i'm going to be thinking about this the rest of the day.

[comradekatara]

so i read azula in the spirit temple. i actually quite liked it! it helps that she looks absolutely gorgeous in wartman's art style. it's so much easier to digest this new batch of hicks comics, not only because they're actually being written by someone who understands the themes and characters of atla, but because they're so much more aesthetically pleasing than the former art style, which didn't do any characters any favors.

now, i'm gonna venture into spoiler territory as i discuss specific panels, so if that's something to wish to avoid for now, i've put the rest of this post under a readmore. also, send me an ask if you want the link for the full comic, and thank you to @samtamdan for providing me with it!

i. thesis.

first of all, the idea that azula could have found "redemption" in the temple was teleologically illusory, due to the fundamental premise of how such "redemption" was being facilitated. that said, i don't think it was her "crossroads of destiny" moment (a potential for change wherein zuko chose wrong), but rather the leadup to "crossroads of destiny," which is to say, his metamorphic fever dream. like zuko, she's seeing visions of her loved ones manifested from her subconscious giving her conflicting accounts as to who she is and what she should do. so while the seeds are being planted, her growth is still to come.

but genuine growth cannot be facilitated in this manner. how can azula embrace "growth" she knows to be an illusion? she's definitely not being overly paranoid here by refusing to "just accept what is offered," especially considering she has experienced psychosis in the past. while i think that this spirit does accurately acknowledge the root of azula's core issue, which is that she was raised in an environment where she was denied unconditional love in such a way that she convinced herself she was fundamentally unlovable and undeserving of care (thus motivating her to overcompensate through avenues she could excel in), the visions the spirit offers don't actually provide azula with unconditional love. they list her accomplishments and state how she is a credit to her nation, but that won't allow for azula to recognize that what she truly craves is a love that transcends stipulations and is not facilitated through fear. she can't have any sort of emotional breakthrough when she is being praised for aspects of herself that were valued and fostered by her abuser who indoctrinated her into an imperialist ideology, and so the promise of "redemption" (in this particular instance) was hollow from the start, and i think that she was right to ultimately reject it.

however, her moments of genuine vulnerability wherein she voices her repressed subconscious fears may lead to her eventually arriving at a greater self-awareness and emotional clarity on her own somewhere down the line.

ii. manifestations.

a small detail i loved was when ty lee appeared to her, i could immediately tell that she was an illusion, because she was acting how azula sees her. the beginning of the comic even foreshadows this "reveal" (i mean, i think it would have been more shocking had she actually been real, but you get what i mean) by showing us a glimpse of ty lee acting more authentically now that she's no longer under azula's thumb. and it's particularly amusing to me that in azula's mind, ty lee is a perky airhead and mai is a massive cunt.

not gonna lie, the fact that this is how azula sees mai made me laugh.

of course, ty lee does always feign oblivious cheer around azula, and mai is blunt and honest to the point that she can sometimes seem mean, but it also speaks to the fact that as much as azula clearly cares so much about them, she's never truly understood them. that said, azula's last clear memory of mai is her choosing to say the exact words that she knew would hurt azula most ("you miscalculated, i love zuko more than i fear you") so it makes sense that her subconscious would now manifest a version of mai who voices azula's innermost fears.

furthermore, the fact that mai would manifest to azula as an extension/double of ty lee instead of as her own person, wearing the kyoshi uniform even though mai herself is not a kyoshi warrior, is such an interesting choice to me. i think it signifies how azula views mai and ty lee as a cohesive unit; they are inextricably linked in her mind due to the fact that they chose each other over her. while zuko does appear later as a manifestation out of the same figure, he is wearing his firelord robes, indicating that azula's memory of mai in kyoshi warrior garb back in book 2 is significant to her. i think it can be read as a clever allusion to that very subtle moment of foreshadowing in book 2, but it primarily indicates how azula sees mai and ty lee as two faces of the same body, donning the garb they once wore as a disguise – only now it indicates that their dual loyalties were also in opposition to azula.

ty lee, on the other hand, can only be a bitch to azula obliviously, when she appears ignorant of how much her words have the capacity to hurt her. considering this is a continuation of the yang established canon, the fact that (azula's vision of) ty lee would so casually suggest azula seek help from a psychiatric institution would read as condescending mockery and is clearly incredibly triggering for her, but her phrasing allows for an ambiguity of intention that azula has come to associate with ty lee's discursive affect.

of course, we as the audience know that ty lee was always perfectly conscious of how to veil her insults towards azula with enough plausible deniability that azula didn't even register them as deliberate insults at all. however, i wonder whether time away from ty lee with the hindsight of her betrayal allowed azula to reframe the nature of their relationship. and while she does still see ty lee as enduringly cheerful, that also makes sense considering she never truly witnessed ty lee drop her mask.

these nuances are the kinds of subtle distinctions only someone who truly understands their characters could write, which is why i'm so grateful they ditched yang and hired hicks.

iii. love and friendship.

i also love these panels in particular as they speak to azula's feelings for mai and ty lee. despite her... less than stellar treatment of them, it's always been clear that azula does love her friends. the reason their betrayal hit her so hard is because she wanted them to care about her as much as she cared about them, and she rationalized that hurt after the fact by claiming that she was actually upset because they betrayed "their nation." this rationalization is a pattern for her, psychologically. azula uses her status as a means of elevate herself, while simultaneously debasing her personhood/humanity (not only viewing herself as a vessel/weapon, but fearing that she is in fact a "monster") as she fears that she is uniquely unworthy of love. the irony there is that her status as the prodigious fire nation princess was what led to her dehumanization, and (like zuko and iroh before her) deconstructing her imperialist ideology would be a necessary step in her ability to uninternalize the way she sees herself stemming from ozai's abuse.

i also found it interesting that azula calls zuko a "stupid boy who didn't even want her." there are so many layers to that claim. first of all, zuko isn't just a random boy (although he might be stupid). he's her brother, and as much as she may deny it, she cares about him deeply. but here, the fact that zuko is a boy takes precedent over the fact that he's her brother, which screams teenage lesbian logic to me. azula cannot understand why her friends would choose a boy over the close female friendship that meant so much to her because her attempt to inhabit mai's perspective, as a girl who has romantic feelings for a boy, is genuinely impossible to her. i know this interpretation may seem like a stretch, but i really don't think that azula would say "she broke up our team for a stupid boy" and not "for my stupid brother" otherwise, considering that azula does have an established precedent of feeling specifically hurt by her loved ones choosing zuko over her. her wording is distinctly gay here.

furthermore, azula claims that zuko "didn't even want her." i've talked before about how azula is hoisted by her own petard regarding mai's betrayal, since she initially set zuko and mai up (there is a comic that establishes this, but since i don't consider the comics canon, i will also say that this reading is heavily implied in "the awakening"), whether to control both of them through each other, or as an incentive to keep zuko on her side, or out of a genuine altruistic desire to matchmake, or a combination of the above, or otherwise, and that choice to bring them together ended up backfiring spectacularly. but i think the fact that azula had to pull the strings to get them together also led her to assume that any care they might have had for each other wasn't genuine, and while i think that to a degree she is correct, because their relationship was largely a hollow facade, she could not have expected that their relationship would lead to their breakup which led to their conversation in the boiling rock that motivated mai to take a stand. (and of course there's also the fact that the wording of the latter clause, azula claiming that zuko didn't want mai, is equally as gay as the former. she may as well have called zuko a slur here.)

sidenote: while i could definitely spend ample time dissecting this entire panel, for now i'm just going to address the fact that the boy azula sees in her initial dream sequence isn't even chan (the guy she kissed) but ruon-jian. obviously azula in this moment knows that her hair looks like shit (although i think the overgrown uneven bangs are a really cute look on her tbh) and she's stinky from running around in the woods for however long she has, but the fact that the voice presenting that compliment to her isn't even coming from the boy she ostensibly "liked" makes it even more evident that she cares about validation from boys insofar as she believes that she is supposed to, but doesn't actually care enough about them as individuals to distinguish between them. chan and ruon-jian are interchangeable symbols to her that function to affirm her (heterosexual) femininity, but she still cannot fathom why anyone would forsake their cherished female friends out of genuine feeling for "a stupid boy." azula is such a baby lesbian.

and finally, the fact that this entire plot is incited by her replacement girl group choosing one of their own over her command illustrates how much mai and ty lee's betrayal still resonates. she is attempting to cling to an idealized past via recreating their friend group, but she still hasn't learned her lesson that she cannot make genuine friends by being controlling and ruling through fear, and so history repeats itself, and they, too, leave her. hopefully her next endeavor to find a friend group of likeminded girls will be tempered by newfound knowledge that love and mutual support creates stronger bonds than fear, but since she has yet to be shown genuine care from anyone in her life, that has yet to be seen.

iv. parents.

one quibble i do have is that because hicks has to adhere to the precedent set by the yang comics, despite navigating and adapting to those precedents deftly, some choices simply fall flat. for the most prominent example, the retcon that ursa is still alive necessitates that azula's understanding of her mother's absence is slightly muddied, but that's always gonna be a choice i disagree with, so i can't exactly single out this particular comic when it nonetheless does such a great job of attempting to mitigate prior issues, mostly by focusing entirely on its role as a psychological character study rather than attempting to deal with the mess of a plot that yang established.

that said, i do think that this panel is really poignant, and the fact that azula is even able to speak to her fear of ozai is a really big step for her. i think that azula acknowledging that she legitimately didn't have a choice is actually a really important milestone on her path to healing. her cognitive dissonance regarding her denial that ozai's abuse dictated her actions through fear is a matter she needs to address and articulate fully if she is ever to find peace. it's understandably difficult for her to reconcile her lack of agency and how terrifying the circumstances of her childhood were, and she even oscillates here between acknowledging that she was terrified of ozai and claiming that ozai is the only family she has left who hasn't betrayed her. i think that azula almost wants to be a monster who drives everyone away because that means that she nonetheless has enough control to be responsible for her fate, and actually facing the extent to which ozai's abuse shaped her is really scary. moreover, it's still difficult for azula to recognize how much harm ozai has caused her because she has no other form of material support, and without the hollow approval of her abuser, she is truly and utterly alone. which, incidentally, is exactly why he isolated her in the first place.

v. conclusion.

while, i know that some people may be disappointed that the telos seemed like a net zero, i think that the push towards isolated character studies that don't affect the plot since hicks was hired actually works really really well considering she understands each character well enough to write these compelling little character studies that largely serve to reinforce the themes of the show via placing a single character under a microscope. and while i think the toph and katara standalone comics were cute but unmemorable, the suki and azula comics were really good because they are both characters who can benefit from having their perspectives foregrounded, whereas we already get plenty of foregrounded pov from toph and (especially) katara in the show itself. azula is a character whose inner life is largely relegated to subtext, so seeing her literal subconscious battle itself upon her spiritually-manifested psychological landscape was a really cool way of communicating her latent internal struggle that has compelled me for so long. despite it being a relatively short comic, there was so much to unpack here that i could really only choose so many key panels to discuss, but that depth and richness to the text is something i appreciate greatly. azula is one of my favorite characters to analyze, so this comic was really like a field day for me.

and here are just some panels i found particularly amusing:

gotta find a way to take potshots at zuzu even when she's completely alone. she's such a little sister sometimes.

tl;dr: overall, i really enjoyed this aesthetically pleasing character study of azula's shattered psyche, and although i only unpack a handful of my favorite panels in this post, i am happy to discuss any further thoughts you guys may have regarding other facets of this comic in my inbox!

[morganbritton132]

I remember a while ago Steve wasn’t letting go of hope for his Mom showing up because he said she’s always late. Does he hit a point after that where he starts to admit maybe she isn’t coming? How does Eddie handle it?

@mcneen asked: Was there ever any further discussion between Steve and Eddie when Steve’s Mom didn’t show up, and Steve was like “oh she’s going to be late, she’s always been late”? I love love this series and check for more updates every day, thank you so much for writing it!

I’m going to kill two birds with one stone here since these two are asking for similar things

—

He always knew that she wasn’t coming.

He has known it every time he’s extended an olive branch just to watch it wilt and rot, and he knows that his friends and family think that he’s in denial about it. He knows that they have worriedly whispered conversations about him, but they don’t get it.

Yeah, it would be less heartbreaking to just give up but it wouldn’t be easier.

The Buckley’s are amazing parents that still send care packages to their daughter and call her every day for a month leading up to her birthday. Wayne took in his nephew when he didn’t have to and stood in defense of him against an entire town. Joyce – Jesus, Joyce Byers went to hell and back for her son. Hopper, Claudia, Sue, Karen… they’re all amazing parents, and you know what?

His mom was amazing once too.

And he knows. He knows. He knows. He knows how untrue that statement really is. He’s been in therapy long enough to know that he had a bad childhood and his parents were neglectful, but he cannot rectify that with the little boy inside him that loves his mom to pieces.

In the same way that he will always be sixteen years old and scared of the dead girl in his pool, he will always be small, waiting by the door for a mother that always eventually came home. Though, he knows.

He knows that seasons change and old injuries never heal quite right, and it never really mattered if his mother came home because she was always leaving but… But she was never outright cruel.

His father was a mean man that demanded perfection and belittled anything less than that. He was a unhappy man that fostered an atmosphere so hostile that his only son barely dared to breathe in his presence, and his mom. Well, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know how to be a mother.

But she was there. Sometimes as the silent observer, sometimes disinterested, but always the one to say, “Enough.”

“Enough,” she said after Barb’s disappearance, after the phone call from the police, after the lecture that turned physical. She stood between them with her hand pressed against her father’s chest and said, “That’s enough. Steven, go to your room.”

“Enough,” she said after the final rejection letter, after the job at his dad’s company was rescinded, after he was told to get a job or get out. “Enough, James. What is all this yelling going to do? It will not get him into college.”

“Enough,” she said after Steve stood his ground and took back nothing when he told them that Eddie was not just a friend, that he loved him and for the first time ever, it felt like someone loved him back. After the fighting, and the yelling, and being kicked out, she finally uttered, “Enough.”

About insurance.

His father stripped him line by line of everything he has always known, but insurance was where his mother drew the line. They all new that he would never be able to afford his medication without it and, “God forbid, he have a seizure and get another kid killed, Jay.”

The last conversation Steve had with his mother was at his father’s funeral. He said she looked well given the circumstances and she said that he should really do something about all that gray hair.

So, no. He’s not expecting her to show up. He never really is, but he wants it. He wants it so bad and it all kinda comes crashing down around him one evening after Eddie casually mentions that Wayne called earlier, “He said you’re getting better at speaking on camera.”

“What?”

Eddie explains that Wayne caught Steve’s interview about his YouTube math tutorials going viral. Steve asks how a man living in Florida manages to watch a local news broadcast from Illinois, and Eddie says that he looked it up online. Steve asks, “Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s proud of you,” Eddie says simply.

Something just cracks and the next thing either of them knows, Steve is crying. It’s kinda funny how wide Eddie’s eyes go, but Steve can’t even laugh about it because he feels like he’s going to drown inside himself.

It takes time and a lot of coaxing for Steve to get to a point where he tell Eddie that he’s sad. He just doesn’t understand what he’s supposed to do to make her want to see him. He doesn’t know what he did that was so wrong that she can’t forgive him and why – “Why can’t she just love me?”

Eddie tells him firmly, “Stevie, baby. I want you to listen very carefully to me, okay? I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life, okay?”

Steve nods.

“You did nothing wrong,” He says, and Steve just – he can’t believe it. He can’t believe that because then there’s nothing he can do to fix it and he – “Tell me this, Steve. Tell me what Erica Sinclair – Lady Applejack herself. Tell me what she has to do to make you consider cutting contact with her? What’s the least she’d have to do? Think about it an give me an answer, sweetheart.”

Steve things about it and eventually settles on, “Open the Upside Down on purpose.”

“Have you even opened a portal to a hell dimension on purpose then, babe?”

“Ed-“

“No, I want an answer,” Eddie says. “Have you ever purposely ripped a hole in the space-time continuum to an alternate reality?”

“No.”

“You ever do something worse than that?”

“I- no? Eddie-“

“Then it sounds like the problem is with your mom and not you,” He answers. “It sounds like she needs to get over her own fucking issues, and I know. I know that fucking sucks, Steve, but you cannot spend the rest of your life blaming yourself for her unwillingness to grow as a person.”

Eddie wipes the tears from his face and kiss the tip of his nose, and Steve admits, “I’m still sad.”

“I know, baby,” Eddie tells him. “That’s okay.”

Steve doesn’t know how much time lingers between them in silence, just that he’s tired the way he always is after he cries a lot. He’s about to tell him that he’s going to go to bed when Eddie states, “Joyce still lives in Hawkins, right? I’m gonna call her and see if she’ll beat your mom up.”  

[heliads]

I recently re-read the hunger games trilogy, so can you write a katniss fic with a fem!reader being secretly haymitch's daughter?? nothing much, just the two of them spending time together, hunting or spending some quality time together, ignoring the capitol, the world and individual problems to enjoy the hours they have together

please let me write for thg i love this request

masterlist

It is a terrible thing to be a Victor. Most people only look surface level, choosing to focus on the gilded trappings and gaudy praise the Capitol heaps upon you. Beneath the facade, living with the memories of what you’ve done is far harder than finding a way to burn through all the money they give you for killing twenty-three other children while all the world watches on. The price of blood was always worse than the price of gold, anyway.

You’ve seen this once before already. The Capitol does its best to stay up to date on every little detail of their lovely Victors’ lives, but when Haymitch Abernathy had his first child, he did everything in his power to ensure that no one would ever find out. That infant would live in someone else’s home, kept out of sight of the cameras and the Arena alike, and she would grow up to be you.

It wasn’t the worst of lives. It kind of was. No one can pick their place in life when they first come into the world, obviously. Otherwise, we’d all be living up in the Capitol and no one would be down here, choking on coal dust, waiting for their bones to turn ash so their body can be burned to heat the homes of the rich and prosperous a million miles away from them.

Haymitch watched out for you as best he could. He sent your foster parents money when he remembered it, always a little out of schedule, a touch too much to cover up for the fact that he forgot the last time around. He started remembering as you got older, though. He stopped feeling ashamed of you and started feeling ashamed of himself.

You see him a lot, although the frequency of your meetings always picks up around the time of the Games. He needs it as a reminder that not everything about him always leads to death and ruin. Once in a blue moon, Haymitch Abernathy is responsible for something good. Something, someone, like you.

There’s a schedule to the Games, one that isn’t known or enforced by the Peacekeepers, and it goes like this:  first there is the before, and then there is the after. Prior to the start of the Hunger Games ceremonies, Haymitch will be over at your place. You’ll talk a lot. Both of you will do your best to keep the conversations light. Remember when you were a kid, crawling around all the time? How you used to laugh like crazy whenever it snowed?

Then he’ll get dragged off by the Capitol to go mentor two kids until they die, and then you reach the second phase of the schedule, the after. Haymitch will hole up in his estate in the Victor’s Village, the only occupied house there, the only living being around because he couldn’t save a single person other than himself, and you will find him because no one else will. It’s quiet most of the time. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all, and certainly not the additional two kids who placed their faith in him just for him to let them down again.

After a while, he’ll manage to claw his way out of it, and then you’ll have the better part of a year before the cycle repeats. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to this pattern, and you’ve perfected it like a pastime. The right words to say get easier to remember when you say them every year. And now, as a reward for getting it right, you get to repeat the process with Katniss Everdeen.

You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not. Truth be told, it’s easier spending time with Katniss than anyone else, even right after her first Games when everything is bloody and terrible. You could see yourself doing this again next year, and the next one, and the next. You don’t think you would mind it. Not at all.

Perhaps that’s why Haymitch set this up in the first place. Maybe he knew it would be okay. Or maybe he was just so ridiculously pleased that he managed to save not one tribute but two that he was only thinking about prolonging Katniss’ survival. The reasons don’t always matter. What happened, happened, and secretly you’re glad of it now.

Katniss had been locked in a death spiral of nightmares and bad memories. It soon became clear that she would lose herself to it if someone didn’t intervene, so someone did. Haymitch took Katniss by the shoulders, shook her a little and told her to get it together, and pointed her to you. You knew what it was like to befriend someone who wanted to shut out the world, who couldn’t sleep without nightmares and couldn’t talk without thinking that someone was watching. You could understand Katniss better than anyone, and Haymitch knew it. Daughters are such wonderful pawns to play, aren’t they?

Again, a cruel way to put it, but this is the truth nonetheless. It’s what Katniss suspected the first time you visited her house, and the second, but after a couple of weeks passed and it grew obvious that you weren’t giving up on her without a fight, she begrudgingly let you in. The two of you had been observing each other for years now, the consequence of there only being so many girls your age in a small town in District Twelve, but things accelerated rapidly after the Games.

You’ll never be entirely certain why. Katniss doesn’t let people in, and she threw up her walls tenfold after she partook in the Hunger Games, unable to discern if someone was talking to her because they wanted to or if they wanted to kill her. She even started growing distant from Gale, because Gale didn’t understand her completely, not anymore. Not like you did.

Over the course of the summer, Katniss’ icy demeanor started to melt. She is hesitant and cautious, but she still smiles at your offhand jokes, always a little surprised, like she can’t believe she’s having this good of a time either. The two of you start meeting up in the forest surrounding District Twelve where no one can see you, where it’s just the two of you and the blissful sunlight waving through endless flurries of leaves above your heads.

And, not according to plan, you realize that you’re starting to fall for her. Katniss is like no one you’ve ever met before, even your dad. You knew how to operate around Haymitch, but Katniss doesn’t require an assembly guide or how-to explanation. You just know her. It is as easy as that.

After realizing such a thing as that, how could you not begin to love her? You can steal your dad’s drinks and get properly sloshed on them, but it’ll never match the tipsiness you feel when you look at her; when she laughs at one of your jokes, always reluctant at first but more easily as she gets more used to you. It makes you want to try again and again, and so you do. Katniss listens every time. She says she likes to hear you.

Instead of running away, you decide to embrace the feeling. You head to the woods more and more often, although never at the risk of the Peacekeepers’ attention. Katniss never tells you when she’s going out, nor do you mention when you’re out here, but the two of you have a habit of finding each other nonetheless. You turn around and there she is, emerging from a stand of trees; she crosses a bank at the same time as you; you climb a tree to get a better vantage point of the forest and you’re instantly drawn to the sight of her doing the same across a clearing. Katniss makes sense.

If you squint your eyes just right, you can make your entire world double. The hazy afterimages of present day will swim before you, a hair out of line but still there, still two instead of one. For example, right now, walking through the woods beyond District Twelve, it’s as if you can see two exact images of the current moment instead of only one.

On one version of this day a few years ago, when you hide away from the world in the forbidden greenery past your district’s limits, you come across Katniss Everdeen and you hide from her, too. You do not know her. Not well, at least. You see her and pretend otherwise. She does the same. She heard your footsteps first and thought herself visited by a deer instead of a girl. Her finger tensed on her bowstring, but she released it the second your face finally came into view. Katniss could not kill a person.

Would not. Katniss can kill a person, as it turns out, she can outlive twenty-two tributes through various purposes and keep one other alive, then do it again, but she does not know that yet. All Katniss knows in this past moment, this one half of a fractured memory, is that she will not kill you, and that is true today, too.

On the other version, the one that happens today, you do not run from Katniss, you go to her. That is the whole purpose of risking the Peacekeepers’ wrath by ducking under the fence to escape to the forest. The wilderness means Katniss, and Katniss means you’ll be able to spend another day relatively free from the concerns of a girl from District Twelve who has increasingly little between herself and the violence of not having enough.

Katniss doesn’t turn when you approach, but you can hear the quiet smile in her voice when she admonishes you, “You’re going to scare away all my game.”

You chuckle. “No, no. I’m drawing them out of the bush so you can shoot them. It’s teamwork.”

“If it were teamwork,” she argues, “you would also have a bow.”

You lift a shoulder. “I would never dare steal your favorite weapon. I want you to feel important.”

This does make her laugh. Almost indignantly, yes, but still a laugh. Still a win for you. She manages to nab a few birds before setting her bow down for the morning. The two of you sit side by side in the tall grass, a cool breeze blowing upon your faces, bringing with it the tender tangy scent of the forest.

Usually, neither of you have ever suffered from awkwardness when you’re out here. You could spend hours out here, not saying a word, and it would be just as fulfilling as if you’d spoken the entire time. Today, though, there’s something stuck on the tip of your tongue, a truth that refuses to go unsaid no matter how you fight it.

At last, you give in and, keeping your eyes resolutely ahead, you tell her what’s on your mind. “I’m glad you’re with me, Katniss.”

You can see Katniss frowning out of the corner of your eyes. “Where else would I be?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have heard me coming and avoided me the second I stepped into the forest. Probably would have caught more, too.”

Katniss shakes her head doubtfully. “No, we’re good. This is good.”

She sets her jaw determinedly, like this settles everything. It does, in a way. It gives you the courage to continue. “I’m glad to hear it. I like spending time with you.” A pause. “I like you.”

Katniss’ brow knits. “Why would you like me?” Genuinely confused, she adds on, “I’ve done terrible things, Y/N.”

“We’re all terrible,” you whisper back softly.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been in the Games. You haven’t.”

This is true. No matter how much time you spend with Haymitch or Katniss, nor how many stories you hear about the Hunger Games, it will never be the same as actually taking part in them yourself. With all luck, you never will. Both Haymitch and Katniss would fight to keep you out of them, and then to keep you alive, should that happen, but the possibility shrinks with every year as you get older.

“I still want you,” you tell her. More the empty forest air; you can’t quite say this to her face, not yet. The fear of rejection after everything is too great a burden to bear.

When you do risk a glance over at her, though, Katniss doesn’t look affronted. Instead, she looks more at peace than you’ve ever seen her. Slowly, carefully, her face upturned to catch the morning sun, Katniss smiles again. You’re not even sure that she’s aware of doing it. It is simply the only way she can process that this, you wanting her, would make her happier than anything else.

And, sitting here in the forest, surrounded by a million memories of all that you have done together, a thousand hopes of all that you have yet to do, you look over at Katniss and you know. You know that she loves you. You know that she can’t say it, not yet, not until she’s certain that you love her as much as she loves you.

She will tell you, though. In time. Perhaps it’ll happen another day out here past the confines of District Twelve, in a space that has always been safe to the two of you and will thus protect her from the fallout of confessing to a friend. Perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re asleep next to her, to avoid a response, or perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re pretending to be asleep, so she knows you’re heard and you don’t have to tell her anything.

Or, maybe she’ll just say it now, unspoken but still startlingly loud, audible in every glance your way, every faint smile she never bothers to hide. That, you think, would be enough.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[anxiousdreamcore]

Hi would you like to draw Spider as street kid in modern au? I really like your Billy Batson art + the way you draw Spider so I think this combination would be so perfect 😅 I totally understand if not, anyway have a nice day/night!

BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU—

Ever since @naavispider responded to a prompt about street kid Spider meeting Quaritch, I was very interested in the idea so I def wanna draw that but for now, let me present you with some thing I came up with.

.

Street kid Spider modern AU

Imagine Miles Spider Socorro in the modern AU, escaping from the foster system bc he was treated very poorly and decided to gamble with the homeless life instead. He lives like that for maybe three-four years when Miles tracks him down. Because the boy is so good at parkour, he’s been given the street nickname of Spider, which the blonde is proud of and uses as his real name.

Spider lives in the attic of an abandoned mall that is so overgrown with unkept plants and trees that it’s more of a jungle. He takes care of many cats who made themselves at home there and as a result of being around them 24/7 develops some of their mannerisms, like head movements when curious, crouching and hissing when agitated. He doesn’t get much proper human contact until meeting the Sullies.

The Sully kids have moved in not long ago and crave adventure. The overgrown mall looks like a magical forest to them and in it they find Spider, a creature of the woods with his long, curly, matted hair, ripped and stitched together over a thousand times clothes, trinkets worn on his neck like necklaces, and the many cats surrounding him. Spider smells like soil and cat food and is initially scared of the four children (four bc you’d never catch Neteyam exploring abandoned buildings, he’s a good boy), ready to fight them like he fought every other street-dweller ever since ending up outside of care. Out here, the kids mostly end up either as addicts or in gangs, so Spider had no friends his age…until that fateful day.

From that point on, Spider becomes their secret friend and the siblings visit him every day. They love his bravery and sass, underneath which lies a compassionate heart of gold. They not only buy him necessities, but even help him shoplift on some days, not only for himself but for the street animals as well, plus old homeless people who huddle around makeshift fires on cold nights. They become sort of robins in their own right, and Jake, together with Neytiri, although suspect something, don’t know about the secret bestie their kids made.

Neteyam suspect much more and slowly puts the puzzle together. He is not thrilled.

All is well, life is looking up…until Kiri tells Spider one day, as they hang out in the roof, that she heard in the news of a certain “Miles Quaritch” getting out of prison, advising that the boy stays safe.

She stills when she sees the sheer look of horror on his face.

“Spider..?..”

“I…”

“…You know him?”

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“I-I won’t, I won’t.”

“…

I’m, like…his son.”

From that point on the drama quickly ramps up because Spider’s social cervices agent Norm has also tracked the kid down to this city, operating on rumours and rare camera footage of the boy. It doesn’t make the situation easier that Norm is also friends with Jake and keeps venting to him about how miserable and hurt Spider must be while the Sully kids are right there knowing where he hides.

And that’s pretty much the gist of this AU. For Spider, it’s a tense situation where he has to be sneakier than ever bc cps are close on his track and his father is even closer and he wants his son back. On both fronts, Socorro is threatened with a total loss of freedom and autonomy. The kids have to be sneaky too when they visit him…but no one can be sneaky enough to pass under Quaritch’s nose.

[v3nusxsky]

Hi! Could you do a CG Natasha/Little!reader? Where the reader has abandonment issues, and severe separation anxiety ( due to basically being passed around the foster care system) and she breakes a cup on accident ( or breakes something) and panics because she thinks her momma will be mad and leave her and fluff/comfort happens?

Love bug

*Authors note~ Mars failing her driving exam with silly mistakes equals an Agere fic so I hope you all enjoy*

Trigger Warnings~ little r cg momma nat mentions of Wanda (aunt) hinted at foster care rough childhood and abuse

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

You were okay before she left, you managed to kiss her goodbye and totally didn't cry. Well you did but after she left. It was silly really, she'd be gone twelve hours maximum, the mission so low risk she'd be doing a duo rather than a whole team. Without you. Of course you worry for her, as she does for you, but for some reason this mission was hitting you hard. Perhaps it was the fact it was last minute or maybe you'd just been pretty sensitive today. But either way Natasha had asked Wanda if she'd keep an eye on you today. It made things easier for you to have someone around when Nat couldn't be there.

Natasha left about ten in the morning and you weren't expecting her to be there till ten at night, so of course you cried yourself to sleep for a nap. Your hope was that it would take up most the time but in fact you only managed to sleep for an hour and a half. You'd woken up feeling rather small, not really understanding you'd regressed or why you'd done so. But the list that you'd made yourself to keep yourself busy and fully distracted from your lover's absence was forgotten.

Without the mental capacity to even consider doing all your adult you tasks you just rolled over and snuggled into your Mama's pillow, nuzzling into her scent hoping to convince yourself she was truly right her. It did nothing but make you miss her more now. Crying was your only reaction to this and that's how Wanda found you when an hour later. Eyes now puffy and red as you sobbed for your Mama. "Oh darling, are we a little one?" Wanda murmured gaining your attention and receiving a small nod and whimper of "Auntie Wan" accompanied but sniffed and whimpers."I'm here lovely, what can Auntie Wanda do for you?"

"Wan Mama" you whimpered, pouting at the mind reading witch. "Oh I know my darling girl, remember Auntie Wands can read your mind?" Her attempt to get you off of seeking out Natasha seemed to work for now, you gasped as if you didn't already know this information. That was how Wanda was stopped showing you call little tricks with her magic that had you amazed and mesmerised on her rather than who wasn't here. With the promise of more tricks with her magic she managed to convince you to come and settle down with the team. They loved when you regressed and your little state loved them just as much.

You spent hours with the team, even eating a little as auntie Wanda made sure Bucky and Thor were unsuccessful in their attempts to try and "steal" your food of your plate. You giggled every time the tried and wands would remove their hands with magic. Tony filled your mind of all these cool toys he could design for you and all the gadgets he could make for his favourite little Avenger. You didn't know you were the only little Avenger and you most certainly didn't know that your Mama and Auntie Wanda would string Tony up the second they thought you'd be in any danger.

Natasha was due back in an hour and a half now. The team watching all the movies your little headspace loves to watch, in fact you'd began with 101 Dalmatian's so it only made sense you'd watch 102 and 103 Dalmatian's. In fact on the third film Wanda decided everyone should have a warm drink to settle themselves for bed. Really it was so you didn't feel alone when she asked you to have your night time drink. Your headspace meant you were willing to drink from a cup with some support so Wanda happily helped you drink. But one time you got brave, curiosity running through your mind as you attempted to be a big girl and make your Mama proud. But the crash of the mug smashing on the ground startled everyone, your warm drink spilling everywhere amongst the shattered mug. Immediately, you began to attempt to clean the mug, not realising in your little state you could hurt yourself, and mumbled "Im sorry! I'm so sorry! Mama gone be mad me I sworry wan no tells Mama on mes? I fix I fix it please no want mana leave."

Bucky attempted to come near you only causing you to shrink further into the mess and cry a plea of forgiveness and that you'd fix it. You didn't want to hurt again. You wanted to make sure your Mama didn't hate you, that she would stay with you and that she still loved you. All these people were wrong, and that made you mad. You wanted your Mama and the fact they wouldn't get her caused a meltdown.

Wanda quickly became the gravity for you, ushering the men away from the room and immediately scooping your crying form off the floor and using her magic to clean the mess. "Hushhhh little one, it's okay it's all clean. All gone. No one is mad. Your Natty is still gonna love her precious girl I promise" Wanda soothed as you sobbed into her shoulder hiccuping through them. "Shh little one. I'm here aren't I? Did I go?" Causing you to shake your head, "want Mama."

"Did I hear my Lovebug wants her Mama?" Natasha's voice rang through the compound causing you to stifle a sob and gasp clinging to Wanda. Although you wanted Nat more than life itself but the fear of her getting mad at you for the mug and leaving you alone. "I'm sorry no let hurt me. I'm sorry mama I no mean do it I try fix" you whimpered showing your hands that Wanda had magic bandaids on for you. "Oh my little Lovebug, Mama isn't mad I promise. I'm here baby I promise and so is Wands here. She took care of you for me huh?" You nodded and pointed to the television where the white spotted dogs were. "Ah I see you had doggies on huh? You must be super tired love bug. I think it's time my lovely girl gets some rest with me. Wanna cuddle my baby while we sleep" she whispered kissing your head as Wanda helped guide you into Natasha's arms. From there you'd have a few more meltdowns before drifting off to sleep with your head buried into her neck.

Word count~ 1178

[thewritingmagician2022]

hii can i req fluffy smut with the side characters + satan? ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

Sure thing! I’m sorry it’s late but I hope you get to find this and enjoy. (Admittedly smut isn’t really my strong suit, at least in graphic terms, so I hope this still satisfies your request)

Satan: Satan is so, so good at recreating scenes from the more erotic books you read together. I’m not just talking about the kinky stuff (unless that’s something you’re into) but the romantic and intimate things. He loves to ask you what you think of certain scenes, actions, dialogue, etc. so that he can incorporate it into your sex life. He wants nothing more than to fulfill all of your fantasies. This means sometimes things can get a little intense for you both and, while you both enjoy that aspect, Satan is always sure he never takes it too far - he’s a strong advocate for a safe word, even during vanilla sex. Aftercare is also essential to him as well; he loves to snuggle up with you and put his hands on you in the most gentle of alwayss, especially bathing together, while you talk about the experience after. 

Diavolo: Diavolo is usually so careful with you during sex. He’s strong and large for a demon, let alone in relation to a human like yourself. His biggest fear is accidentally hurting you or pushing a boundary; all he wants to do enjoy your love for each other. He really enjoys you being in charge, if only because it soothes his soul and mind to know that you are in control of the intensity, position, power, etc. This way he won’t do anything wrong by accident. There’s also something so intimate about him giving you that control because it is literally the only place in his life where he can do that and the fact that he trusts you so much that he’s willing to be vulnerable means the world to both of you. Sex isn’t (just) a fun thing with Diavolo, it’s a testament to your relationship and your commitment and trust. 

Barbatos: All Barbatos cares about is your happiness and pleasure - that’s who he is at his core. He is there to serve. His ability to make you happy is what he is most proud of. He feels closest to you when he is giving you the most ultimate pleasure and he’s very aware of how important your emotional connection is during that as well. Barbatos can be a mischievous, even a bit sadistic at times, but he’s only going to incorporate that if it’s something you’re interested in. If it is, he’s comfortable doing it only if he knows he’s built enough trust with you and he would be the absolute best at aftercare both in terms of physical touch and words of affirmation so that you know how much he loves you. Conversely, if you’re not into that, he also loves loves loves being so slow and attentive and sweet; it’s essentially as if he’s worshipping you at any given time.  

Solomon: Things with Solomon as always fun. Solomon has seen and done all of it before; there’s really not much of anything you could bring to him that he wouldn’t be willing to do with you, especially if it would make you happy. This means that it’s easier to feel comfortable with him - you know it’s impossible to shock or scare him off, and he never judges you. There’s so much communication in your relationship and this translates so well to the bedroom and it let’s you both figure out what you enjoy the most and that leaves you feeling so connected after each experience together. It really helps foster that mental and emotional connection. Every day is like being with your best friend and it’s the kind of connection that people dream of one day having with their significant other especially in a world where actually talking about sex with your partner is so rare. 

Simeon: Sex with Simeon is always such an intimate and sensual experience. While Simeon is happy to experiment and learn new things with you, he is typically a very gentle lover. He is focused on connecting with you and creating an experience that leaves you both totally unaware of the world around you. There’s no God watching, no brothers or demons looking for your attention, no mortality - it’s just the two of you becoming one and being as close as possible. It’s typically a longer session with him as he’s someone who’s happy to keep the bubble around you two for as long as possible. He’s also the king of aftercare and dedicates equally as much time to connecting with you emotionally after sex to make sure you feel as loved and respected as possible.

[ctitan98official]

Alcina’s long lost child au part 2

Alright, part 2! Read the first part here! Let’s get into it!

The fireplace in the bedroom warmed your weary body. Alcina had done an excellent job wrapping your injured leg and then had a maid bring some hot tea for you to drink.

You stared at this fascinating creature. She was easily over 9 feet tall, and yet your very stare had her shifting uncomfortably in her seat. The confident woman from just before was long gone.

Alcina cleared her throat before speaking (Probably to break the unbearable silence). “Are you happy, Y/N? Do you have… any family? I always dreamed of you coming here to find me, but… I… Only wanted the best for you. I hope you know that.” She began.

You looked down at the mug in your hands. You didn’t want to blame her, but your life had been far from easy. Never adopted. Never had a real family… Aging out of the foster system sucked. “Well,” You began carefully. “Um… I’m not gonna sugar coat anything. I grew up as a bit of a loner. I never had a family.” You said, unable to meet Alcina’s gaze.

Alcina felt her heart break. Tears silently streamed down her face. This wasn’t what she wanted for you.

“To be honest, I liked to think that my birth parents just didn’t have the means to care for me. It was… Easier that way. It made the idea of them seem pretty selfless, but-” You gestured to the gilded fixtures and luxurious room. “I can see money and resources are not a problem here.” You ground out. You tried not to sound so bitter, but Alcina had 3 daughters who lived with her. She clearly had the time and love to devote to them. Why not you?

Your words cut Alcina to the core. You really must hate her.

Alcina’s silence kind of agitated you. “So… You seem to love your new children a ton. I’m happy for you all. I should leave.” You said.

You were feeling very angry and didn’t want to say something you’d really regret. You knew coming here was a bad idea from the beginning… What a waste.

You wince as you painfully rise to your feet and prepare to leave.

“NO!” Alcina all but shrieked and stood to her full height.

The amplitude of the sound hurt your ears and you flinch from Alcina’s sudden movements.

Alcina put her face in her hands and sighed in frustration at her reaction. Why was it so hard to talk to you?! She had been waiting for this moment ever since she gave you up.

“It’s not like that at all… I know I did the right thing!” Alcina says, talking more to herself than you.

You lash out.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” You suddenly scream. “You can’t just say you had good intentions for me, send me off to live in fucking shitty situations my entire life, and then want me to immediately forgive you for it!” You vent. You feel tears stinging your eyes. You didn’t realize just how much you had repressed your anger and hurt all these years.

You cover your face with your hands, desperately trying to not cry in front of her.

Alcina can’t stand to see you so upset. She’s got to do something. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Okay, Y/N. If you hear what I have to say and it doesn’t change the way you feel, I will understand. But, if you find that you’d like to know more… I’ll tell you everything. No matter how painful.” Alcina offers gently.

You huff. Damn it. Now you NEEDED to know what she would say next. “Alright, I’m listening.” You say and sit back down in the chair.

——————————————————————————

A few moments later, Alcina is able to articulate what she needs to say to you. “You were… Most assuredly planned, and wanted, my darling.” Alcina begins.

Wait, she planned on having you?

“I hadn’t adopted your sisters yet at that time… But… They come from unsavory backgrounds as well.” She said tightly, thinking of the pain all of her children have gone through.

You feel a twinge of guilt from being so jealous of the sisters earlier.

Alcina’s face becomes pained. “I had a very… Complicated relationship with your other parent. I constantly craved her approval but I rarely got it.” She said, laughing sadly.

Your ears perk up at this. Another parent??

“What was her name?” You ask, enraptured by Alcina’s story.

“Miranda.” Alcina says. You catch the sadness and… Anger as she says her name.

“Did… Did she do something bad?” You ask in confusion.

Alcina once again nodded, but this time she could not help the growl that escaped her. Why did everything have to hurt so much? It simply wasn’t fair.

“She’s the reason you had to send me away…” You concluded.

“Yes,” Alcina said softly. “For your protection, my love.”

You clenched your jaw. You were starting to hate this ‘Miranda’.

Alcina could sense you were getting upset, so she pivoted and continued on quickly. “Well, one night, your mother proposed that we have a child together-”

You were about to go apeshit. “Did she-?!”

Alcina held up a hand, knowing where you were going. “It was consensual, Y/N.” She said.

This eased your fears, but only a bit.

“Miranda was a brilliant scientist and devised a way for her DNA to fertilize one of my eggs.” Alcina explained.

Your eyes went wide in astonishment, but you didn’t want to interrupt.

“I immediately accepted. I always wanted to feel what it was like to carry a baby within me.” She said, giving you a fond smile.

You felt your heart warm at Alcina’s words. It seems she really did want to have you after all.

“Our relationship got better while we were trying to conceive you. It seemed that she had finally begun to care for me like I did for her… And, well, I became pregnant with you very quickly.” Alcina says with a laugh and a faint blush. “Your mother was absolutely shocked. She couldn’t believe it worked so fast.” She says.

“So… What happened? I mean, how did things go wrong so quickly?” You ask.

Alcina sighed, moving onto more unpleasant memories. “Once Miranda found out I was pregnant… Things changed between us. She insisted on doing all sorts of testing on me. She was completely consumed with her experiments and by the time you were ready to be born, I knew she was going to use you for something awful.” Alcina looked sick as she told you this.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Your mother… Had walked this earth for a very long time, Y/N. She had a daughter a long time ago who passed away due to a dreadful illness.” Alcina tried to explain as best she could. “Miranda was under the delusion that she could somehow bring her back through science and… She began experimenting on people.” Alcina revealed.

Your jaw dropped. Good Lord, human experimentation?? She sounded like a war criminal. It made your skin crawl to know that she used Alcina like this and planned on using you as well.

“Thankfully, by the end of my pregnancy, Miranda was busy in her lab and went for days without coming to check up on you and me. I went into labor, by myself, and soon after, you were born.” Alcina couldn’t help but smile adoringly at you. “Y/N, you were the most beautiful and precious person in my life… I couldn’t let Miranda take you. I had to get you out of here.” She whispered. As she looked at you she began to sob. She wondered how different both of your lives would have been if you had been able to stay with her.

You felt your heart shatter. Alcina had been through so much. She really did give you up to protect you… You felt hatred toward your other “Parent”. She ruined both of your lives, and countless others.

You decided that this was enough sharing for the day. You were both emotionally exhausted. You climbed off your chair and timidly hobbled over to her before you hugged one of her legs.

Alcina looked to you and gasped at your affection. She softly rubbed her fingers through your hair. She needed to show you how much she loved you. It had been too long. “May I… Hold you, Y/N?” She asked through her heartbreaking cries.

You nodded quickly. This is what you wanted all along…

Alcina reached down and picked you up gently, so as not to hurt your leg, and brought you to her chest.

You sighed in contentment as she held you. This felt right. Her warmth, her smell, her voice… She really was your mom.

“Everything will be alright now that we’re together.” Alcina told you, kissing the side of your face and idly rubbing circles on your back.

Soon, the gentle thumping of Alcina’s heartbeat and the quiet reassurances she whispered in your ear put you right to sleep.

The horror of past transgressions seemingly couldn’t touch you while Alcina held you…

Masterlist

[fractualized]

hi randomly picking your brain here! (imagine a literal batjokes brain picking situation though...)

I really like stories with a villain/hero ship, but I feel like they're always in favor of the hero -- tons of aus and potential with reformed joker (AND I LOVE THEM!!!)

but also, I personally love corruption AUs, and I love the idea of the villain reforming the hero. pulling the hero to the allure of the dark side and finally accepting some of the appeal that villainy brings to the table. being able to foster their love in an environment where their desire is no longer focused on others but themselves... and I know some of that happens with the batman who laughs, but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on joker successfully corrupting batman?

maybe it would be a fundamental crack in their foundation and wouldn't work in some iterations, but I love a challenge! maybe joker could convince Bruce that joker+batman on the same side of evil is less damage, more control, and more fun than batmanvs.joker on opposing sides. maybe less death would happen if Batman would play by jokers rules for a while! I feel like Bruce would at least explore the potential for that in his own head, even if he may not agree in canon, typically... even if it's just to play the long game and come back out again a stronger hero.

what do you think? 🫀

I haven't toyed around much with the idea of Joker corrupting Bruce. I've written Bruce doing shady/awful things, but they stem from his own issues and are usually, uh, bad for Joker.

The Batman Who Laughs basically illustrates why the idea's never grabbed me. Joker has built his life around acting in opposition to Batman. That's what he thinks is fun, getting under Bruce's skin. If Batman joined him in pure destruction, the challenge between them is gone. It's not their roles. It's why Joker considers TBWL an offense to the natural order. And more simply than that, I think Joker would get bored. It's the same as when he succeeds at killing Batman: yay, he did it! And… now what? It's easier to see Joker being reformed— or "reformed"— because there's still lots of ways he can start shit. 😂

Plus on Bruce's part, I can't think of a reason he would take that kind of turn that doesn't feel like a stretch, other than having his brain chemistry altered as in the case of TBWL. Like I did have the idea once of doing an inverted Halfway Across, in which Bruce gives up and joins Joker— but part of the inverse is that this story is a comedy and Bruce is just really bad at being evil. He'd drive Joker nuts by only stealing what they really need, giving people a chance to escape traps, freeing animals Joker tries to test on, etc. Which gets at the "less damage" aspect you mentioned, but I could still never think of a great reason Bruce would cross over to start with, even a goofy comedy reason.

But then again, that assessment is based on more modern takes on the characters. I could see it more with earlier versions, when Joker is obsessed with Batman but his crimes revolve around getting money or jewelry or funsies. Bruce is goofier too, and he hasn't, you know, dealt with any dead children.

And of course there are AUs, like in Telltale, where John starts out wanting Bruce's approval so it's easier to see him compromising with Bruce than your standard Joker. So you could have a universe where Bruce isn't as stringent about his principles— but then it feels less like corruption, and you lose the fun!

Hmmm, there is Omega in Last Knight on Earth. Joker was not a fan, but maybe we take a similar scenario. There's an utter catastrophe, and Bruce is broken, and when he has the choice to rally his usual worldview like he always does, Joker is there and convinces him otherwise. But then I still come back to: would Joker get bored? Maybe that's just part of the story. Joker is entertained by guiding Evil Novice Bruce for a while, but inevitably turns on him, mocking him for abandoning the principles that made him such a great nemesis. And then Bruce realizes he's truly lost everything! 🙃

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Be My Boyfriend Instead

Hinata x trans!m!reader

For my lovely friend @dami1314

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The words haunted you for too long, the innocent question filled with affection that should’ve flooded you with warmth but left you feeling hollow.

Hinata Shoyo, the literal sunshine of your year at Karasuno. The most enthusiastic player and the hardest worker of the volleyball club. One of the reasons your school was no longer called the Parking Lot.

He had come up to you, at the end of your third year together, and asked you that question.

And you regretted letting him speak first.

Classmates fled the halls left and right as the last of the classes let out, finally releasing the new graduates into their world of adulthood. You had just finished cheering with Yachi when the heart of the club walked up to the two of you, asking if Yachi could give the two of you a moment.

You were glad, had been trying to find a moment alone to tell your dearest and closest friend your biggest news now that you were leaving high school behind.

But you had let him speak first. You could almost picture how that question would’ve sounded from a first year Hinata. Stuttering and no volume control, a full blush coating his face. Third year Hinata was a much different picture. Confident and strong with the slightest tint of red to the apples of his cheeks.

But you couldn’t say yes, no matter how much you had been wishing to make him your boyfriend for the three years you’d shared jokes and practices and class.

Because the news you were going to share with him that day, it was what you had spent the years since high school working toward.

The drugs, the surgeries, the therapies.

You couldn’t agree to be his girlfriend, because graduation finally gave you the freedom to ignore your parents' wishes and become the man you knew you were meant to be.

You cut contact that day. It hurt, more than anything. You were his biggest supporter and he was yours, but you always felt like it was easier to lose him when you had a say in the matter. Didn’t think you could handle losing him if he only knew how to see you as the girl he confessed to.

So what were you meant to do when you showed up to work, the same as you had every day since uni, to meet the new rookies- only to find the ghost of sunshine past standing in front of you?

There was no recognition in his face when he saw you, only a flicker of familiarity when Coach Foster said your name.

You didn’t expect it to be so crushing that he didn’t know who you were.

And as the days at practice turned to weeks, as Iwa’s broad training plan turned player specific, you knew you couldn’t take the heartache that would come from admitting who you used to be.

So it was easier not to.

It was easier to listen to Bokuto tell stories about high school Hinata like you hadn’t been there for every story he told.

It was easier to let Atsumu tell you about playing him at Nationals two years in a row like you hadn’t been sitting in the crowd.

But what wasn’t easy was the new best friend you’d made on the team seeing you through all of those tales, and realizing the truth.

“You’re the Y/N he knew in high school.” It was probably meant to sound like a question, as he sat tucked away in the corner of the facility laundry room as you washed the jerseys, but Sakusa was never one to speak in half measures. “He told me about… her.”

You wanted to laugh, feeling the way he hesitated and cringed at the word. Meian and the coach had been the only ones to know for sure. You’d disclosed to Coach Foster when you were interviewed for the position, and Meian had caught you by surprise in the locker room when you were changing. But Sakusa had made the deduction. He had seen the way your face flashed with nostalgia before you schooled your features into surprise. He had seen the way you would look away when Hinata talked about the best friend he missed, the way you pretended your eyes didn’t water when he called them the one that got away.

“Yeah.” You answered instead, “I was her.”

Sakusa nodded, and you could practically see his mouth pinched up in thought under his mask, “You aren’t planning on telling him.”

Again, it was probably supposed to sound like a question but didn’t.

And again, you answered anyway.

“No.” You shook your head, finally looking up at him from the machine, “I’m not. He wants the girl he knew back at Karasuno. He doesn’t want… me.”

Sakusa shrugged, glancing past you before he stood to walk away, “Think you should leave that up to him.”

You turned to follow him to the door, to argue, but every argument you had died on the tip of your tongue.

Because there he was again. Half of Karasuno’s Quick Attack.

The door shut quietly, Sakusa silently giving the two of you the space to figure out what the next move would be now that the truth was out there.

“I-“ The words were practically choked in your throat, but you didn’t need them.

“I knew it was you.” God, it was awful seeing such a sad smile on his usually happy face. “I mean, not right away. I really never believed you could get better looking but… well, damn, Y/N, it’s like you landed on a whole higher level.”

You were pretty sure the world was shifting under your feet. You couldn’t have looked more different than you had in high school. Thanks to the meds, you’d grown nearly a foot taller with neatly groomed facial hair and muscles that you never had back then. Your hair wasn’t long and flowing anymore, practically shaved down everywhere but the top, and tattoos decorating your biceps. “I- I look like a- a completely different person.”

“No, not a different person.” Suddenly, that sad smile turned soft, tinged with the same affection that had sent you running all those years ago, “You look like yourself. Your real self.” Hinata stepped toward you, stepping into your space but not crowding you like he wanted you to have the chance to run if you wanted to take it.

But you stepped toward him, too. “I was always afraid of how you’d react to it.”

He nodded, his brow pinching like there was a thought that needed all of his concentration, “Back when we left Karasuno, I asked you a question.” You felt your palms break out in a sweat, and he seemed to read the fear on your face as he smiled at you, “It was the wrong question. Y/N, will you be my boyfriend instead?”

A startled laugh sprang from your throat, tears of happiness pricking at your eyes, “How about we start with a first date?”

“That I can do.” He grinned, only giving you long enough to get the machines running before he was tugging you out the door, declaring dinner at Onigiri Miya to celebrate.

[turbulentscrawl]

Any headcanons for Embalmer and Andrew? 🥸

Oh yes! I am systematically working my way through most of the characters ehehe. I actually think I need to do some situational writing for Aesop as practice, he was a little harder for me to pin down than the other characters I've done so far.

As always, feel free to send me requests if you like my stuff <3 these are fun to do before work ;;

Identity(V) Headcanons: Aesop Carl

-With my current knowledge of the characters, I think Aesop is one of the more dangerous people in the actual horror-story telling behind IDV…. But I’ve been filling these under the game/stageplay setup where the manor is an unescapable, endless game and no one actually dies for realsies…so we’ll ignore his murderous training and tendencies for now.

-That said, he’s still going to be a very difficult guy to get along with. Aesop is confirmed as autistic, and most of his related struggles fall into social categories. He does not typically enjoy casual touch or conversations about anything other than his work. In fact, the longer the conversation is, the worse time he’s having. If there’s a lot of people around too?? He’s McStruggling.

-It takes him a very long time to become genuinely comfortable and friendly with someone, and only then does he start to explore them beyond his comfort zone. Luckily, since everyone is stuck in this would-be purgatory, you’ve got nothing but time!

-One-on-one time is best for Aesop, and while you’re first getting to know him it’s recommended you do not initiate this unless he’s in a public space. He’s mentally prepared to be approached at those times. If you try to barge in on his quiet time or safe spaces before he clears you to do so, it’s only going to hurt his opinion of you.

-He most definitely has long-stints of going nonverbal. At times, the amount of conversation expected of him is too much and he just shuts down completely. If he’s pressed too much during these times he may fall to tears or lashing out. He may, however, be willing to write out any answers that are very important or time-sensitive.

-The trustworthiness of the living and the dead are flip-flopped in Aesop’s mind. When someone is dead, they are a resting summation of all their deeds in life. He learns about who people were through the clues they leave behind: their health, their scars, their effects, the company they receive at their funerals. He considers these things to be more truthful than whatever the deceased would tell or show him about themselves. The living, meanwhile, are all actors, just proxies for what they want to be rather than what they actually are. This is a large reason why he feels closer to the dead than the living.

-Aesop’s favorite love languages are a little difficult to pin down, but I’m going to say Quality Time is his number one—especially when you’re good with parallel play and keep things quiet. This will foster feelings of safety and comfort in relation to your presence! He also likes Words of Affirmation, but mostly in the form of letters, as he’s a little biased for them from all the times he’s nosed through a patient’s effects. Even when he’s head-over-heels (or as close as he can be, since I honestly get AceAro vibes from him) he leans towards written communication but could learn to trust verbal praise in smaller doses.

-When he’s very close with someone, he can learn to enjoy a good hug now and then, or lend them his shoulder to lean on, but he always prefers to keep his arms uncaged so it’s easier to pull away. Unwelcome physical contact feels like bugs crawling under his skin. It’s obvious when he’s had far too much of it because that sensation leads to twitching and spasming, like he’s trying to shake it out.

-He likes to read! His favorites are mostly nonfiction. Biographies (not autobiographies) and other works of an educational nature are preferred, but he has been known to pick up some poetry every now and again. This is due in part to not having finished school and thirsting for all the knowledge he wasn’t allowed.

-He treats learning about his loved ones like reading these books; they are a list of facts and stories to be memorized. Small exceptions to any major preferences can be confusing for Aesop to keep track of, but in general he is very good at committing people’s likes, dislikes, and histories to memory.

-He doesn’t really care to celebrate his own birthday, but likes to help others celebrate theirs. The kitchen is far from his preferred workspace, but he’s actually a decent baker when the situation calls for it. The cake decoration….well, he’ll leave that to someone else. But the cake itself will taste good!

[e-dubbc11]

Anna

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: All the baby fluff, I don’t even think there are any swear words in this, maybe one. But this is probably one of the fluffiest fics I’ve written.

Word Count: 3k-ish

Summary: Your little girl is now a mobile toddler and so many people just adore her. Anna’s godfather, Frank, is having so much fun being a godfather but she has a favorite babysitter and her name is Shortcake.

A/N: Continuation/Side Story of The Sweetest Pain Series. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from this series for long. Toddlers are so unpredictable and they soak up everything like a sponge so it was fun to write for an active toddler. I’d like to thank @jvanilly for suggesting the other artists keeps snacks at their stations for her visits, I thought that was adorable. And Shortcake is a character created my lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass in her fic Mark Upon Your Skin Give it a read if you haven’t yet!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

She was still trying to get the hang of being upright, toddling around on two legs instead of crawling on all fours. Even when she wobbled and fell down, she didn’t get upset or give up. She just got right back up and started walking again, your little miss was a lot like her father in that way.

Billy never gave up or gave in either, he didn’t know the meaning of the word, and he didn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And right now, Billy Russo had everything he had ever wanted. He had a thriving business, he had opened up the other side of the studio so he could bring in more artists and added space to display his artwork.

Always booked out for months in advance, people came from all over to have Billy do their tattoos. He brought their ideas to life and when he was finished, they always left with a smile on their face.

And he finally had something that he had always wanted…a family. Growing up in the group home, Billy would see children come and go. They would get adopted or placed in foster homes but he didn’t. Couples coming in to adopt wanted young children or babies, they never gave Billy a second look so he never knew what it was like to be part of a family until he became part of Frank’s, until he became “Uncle Billy.”

As welcome as they made him feel, something was still missing but he ultimately found those missing pieces. You were one of them, you were someone who understood him, you let him talk when he wanted to, and loved him even with his faults.

He loved you more than anything.

You could see he was scared to death when you told him you were pregnant. He didn’t know anything about parenting. All he knew how to be was Junior and Lisa’s fun uncle Billy. “What do I know about being a dad? I never had one.” Those words broke your heart but you knew he’d love that baby no matter what and you would both learn together.

She was a carbon copy of her father. From her wild dark brown hair to her onyx colored eyes, she melted both of your hearts with her infectious laugh and million dollar smile that was just like Billy’s. And now that she was more mobile, you had to pay extra attention to her so she didn’t get into too much trouble.

The little miss was starting to talk more, put little sentences together too and Billy was excited that she said “da-da” before “mama.” You knew it was easier for a lot of babies to say “da-da” but you just let him have that win because he was just over the moon about it.

And she hadn’t picked up on any yet but you were willing to put money down on her Uncle Frankie teaching her some very “colorful” words sometime in the near future.

Your little girl was constantly surrounded by people who loved her. Frank was always bringing her places with the kids, Maria would watch her one day a week while you and Billy were at work, but Anna’s favorite babysitter was definitely Shortcake.

You were convinced that something happened the day she was born like Shortcake imprinted on her or something crazy like that because your little Anna Raven Russo just adored her. Anna couldn’t quite say “Shortcake” yet so she just called her “Cake.”

One of Anna’s favorite things to do was to try and scare you but she also loved for you to scare her. It was a game she played with Shortcake all the time.

“Baby, why does our child like it when you jump out and scare her? She laughs like a crazy person…watch.” Billy said, hiding behind a door and calling for her.

With a smile on your face, you watched Anna clumsily run over to where Billy was hiding and he jumped out from the dark room. She screamed and then started to laugh.

You and Billy chuckled and he said “See…she’s a little nut.”

“Again Daddy!” Anna yelled.

You just shook your head as you gazed down at her and said “Oh Shortcake plays that game with her. That’s one of the things they like to do with each other is ‘play scared.’”

The day Anna was born, she didn’t have many visitors because she was born in the middle of a snowstorm. Her own father almost missed her birth because of it but aside from Billy’s other employees, the other two people that were there the day she was born were Frank and Shortcake.

It was very hard to tear that baby away from her arms so Frank could hold her, there was just something so special about their relationship from day one and it had blossomed into the sweetest little friendship.

Anna loved visiting Billy at the tattoo studio and even though she obviously couldn’t read what it said, she knew the logo when she saw it. “Daddy…work.”

Firmly planted on your hip, she pointed at the Anvil logo on the window and a wide smile stretched across her face. Excited that she was going to see her other “friends” today, she started impatiently kicking her feet and gently bouncing against your side in anticipation.

Everyone looked up as you opened the door, every single person had a smile on their face as you put the little miss down so she could go say hi to everyone. Her first stop was always her father.

She saw Billy standing behind the counter and she took off running as fast her little legs would let her, he scooped her up in his arms and blew a raspberry on her cheek. Anna let out a high pitched squeal like she did every time Billy did that to her, she loved it.

“And how’s my pretty girl today?” Billy asked.

Anna pointed at you. “Mommy…pretty.” She said.

You let out a little chuckle.

Billy gazed at you like he hadn’t seen you in a week. “Yes, mommy is very pretty…she’s beautiful.” He said with a wink, giving you butterflies in your stomach.

Frank walked in off of the back deck. “Is my goddaughter here?!! Come here, sweetheart.” He said as he squatted down with his arms outstretched.

“Down…Daddy.” She said to Billy.

Billy kissed her on the forehead. “Down daddy, PLEASE.” He said.

Her deep brown eyes, her father’s eyes, looked him over before she said “Peeease!”

Billy set her on the floor and her little legs took her right to Frank. He picked her up and started to “bite” at her neck and she grabbed his nose. “Ow! You got my nose!” He said jokingly with Anna laughing.

“Well to be fair, it is a large target Frankie. Of course she would grab your nose.” Billy said with everyone else getting a good laugh at that one.

You stared intently as big Raven played with little Raven, he had the biggest smile on his face while he played with her and tickled her. Obviously, Frank loved his children but he told you he does sometimes miss when they were babies and he did miss out on a lot of time when they were small because he was deployed so he was really enjoying being Anna’s godfather.

She then toddled around to everyone’s work station, smiling as she waved and said hi to the other artists in the shop that day. They always had snacks and stickers for her, doting on her the entire time she was visiting.

After Anna made the rounds and extorted all of the snacks out of everyone, she ran back over to you. “Up…mommy!” She said with her arms extended over her head.

Tilting your head to the side as you looked down at her, you said. “Up mommy, PLEASE.”

“Up peeeease, mommy!” She said.

You and Billy were doing your best to try and raise a polite human being.

When you picked her up, she turned her hand up toward the ceiling so you knew she was trying to ask you a question and it was adorable. “Cake…mommy?”

“Awwww, Shortcake isn’t here today baby girl.” You said to her.

Anna looked a little disappointed.

“You’ll see her in a couple days. She’s coming to babysit you while Mommy and Daddy go out on a date.” Billy said to her in that soothing voice of his.

Bouncing her on your hip, you smiled at her and asked “Ok?”

Nodding her head and pursing her lips, she said “Ok.”

**********

A couple of days later, while playing with Anna in the living room, you heard a knock at the door. She looked up from her blocks and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, stretching all the way across her face.

She knew who was at the door.

“Who’s here, Anna? Let’s go see!” You said excitedly.

“Cake…Mommy!” She yelled.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I dunno, we gotta open the door.”

As soon as the door opened, Anna ran toward Shortcake who was holding a gift bag.

“Anna!! My little bird, I’ve got something for you.” She said.

Shortcake was ALWAYS bringing Anna presents…dinosaur stuffed animals, books, tiny hoodies. And today wasn’t any different as she followed Shortcake over to the couch to open the bag. Anna threw the tissue paper on the floor and pulled out a pair of Converse sneakers, just like the ones Shortcake had on.

“Now we have the same shoes!” She said.

You just sat back and watched Anna pick up one of the sneakers to show you.

“Look, mommy!” She said.

“I see them, baby. Do you like them?” You asked her.

“On…peeeeease.” Said Anna.

“I guess that’s a yes. What do you say?” You asked.

Anna looked up at Shortcake through her long dark lashes and said “taaaank you.”

Billy walked out from the bedroom. “What did you spoil my child with now, Shortcake?” He asked, walking over to you and pulling you flush with his chest.

You always felt so safe in his arms even from the very first time he hugged you. The way he held you tight and gave you that extra squeeze, you knew Billy was the one for you.

He tilted your chin up so you were looking into his eyes, he smiled and leaned down to kiss you. Things were very different now that you had a child but you still made time for each other to go out on “dates.” You were lucky enough to have so many people willing to babysit while you and Billy went out and spent alone time together.

“She bought Anna her first pair of Chuck Taylor’s. Aren’t they adorable?” You said.

He smiled as he watched Shortcake put the shoes on Anna’s feet. “That is really cute. You ready to go, beautiful?” He asked.

You explained to Shortcake that Anna had a nice long nap earlier and she was probably growing again because she was sleeping so much. You left dinner for them both and told them to have fun which you didn’t really need to tell her because they always had fun.

“Ok well you two go out and enjoy yourselves, she’s in good hands.” Said Shortcake.

You and Billy told Anna that you would see her later and to be good for Shortcake.

“Bye Mommy, bye Daddy.”

Billy narrowed his eyes at Anna, then turned to look at you. “Is she kicking us out?” He asked.

“I think she is.” You replied.

The two of you waved goodbye and headed out for dinner.

When you were halfway through with dinner, your phone started buzzing. It was Shortcake.

Your skin immediately pricked with goosebumps with worry, wondering if anything was wrong.

“Hey Shortcake, what’s up? Everything ok?” You asked.

There was a slight pause, everything was quiet for a minute before she answered.

“Uh, yeah…well, I think I know why the little bird has been sleeping a lot lately. After you left she kind of developed a little bit of a fever. She did eat and I gave her a cool bath. Her temperature went down a little but she does have a little bit of congestion so I gave her some Tylenol, and put the humidifier on in her room when I put her to bed.” She said.

“Wow…look at you go. We’ll finish up dinner and come home so you can—“

She interrupted you. “No, no…please stay out. I’m ok with her here, she’s sleeping, she’s fine. Enjoy alone time with each other for a while longer…please?”

You and Billy weren’t the type of parents to freak out over every little sniffle, kids get sick, that’s what they do. You didn’t know if Shortcake ever had to deal with a sick baby before but it sounded like she was a pro at it.

“Are you sure? We really can come home if you want us to, just so you don’t catch her cold.” You said.

“I want you guys to stay out, it really is ok.” She said. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Ok, ok. We’ll see you in a little while then. Bye.”

And you hung up.

Billy touched your hand. “Everything ok, sweet girl?” He asked.

You told him everything Shortcake told you.

“Wow, sounds like she’s got everything under control.” He said.

“Our little girl is a tough one, not letting anyone know she’s sick. She’s tough like her dad.” You said leaning across the table to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

His tongue darted out to slowly lick his bottom lip, and tasting the red wine on your lips he replied “And like her mom.”

And he kissed you again.

**********

When you arrived home, Shortcake was having some tea and watching tv.

“Thank you for taking care of her tonight. Just, really and truly thank you, not only for taking care of her but for giving us some needed time with each other.”

Billy leaned over and kissed your temple.

You touched her hand, looked at her and said, “And I think you’re gonna make a really great mom someday.”

Shortcake brushed a tear away from her cheek and smiled. “Thank you.” And she leaned in to give you a hug.

You and Shortcake weren’t always so close. When she first started at the shop, you thought she wanted Billy but it was just a misunderstanding and you quickly moved forward.

It’s a huge deal to trust someone enough to take care of your child but there was no question that Shortcake loved Anna and Anna loved her in return.

“I do have to show you guys something, well two things. The first one is on my phone here…hang on.” She said.

Pulling out her phone, she clicked on a video she took of Anna.

“Anna…little bird…tell mommy and daddy the new word you learned. What’s this on my arm right here?” She asked.

Anna pointed to Shortcake’s arm. “Tattoooooo!”

You and Billy started to laugh.

“And what’s the second thing?” Billy asked.

She motioned for the two of you to walk with her to Anna’s room.

Peering into her crib, you and Billy glanced down to see your little Raven asleep but also clutching her new sneakers tightly to her chest.

“She wanted to wear them to bed so we had to compromise. I figured since they’re brand new, it would be ok.” Said Shortcake. “It’s ok, right?” She asked with an unsure tone to her voice.

“Of course it’s alright. I’m sure you really had to fight her on not wearing them to bed, didn’t you. She’s stubborn, like her father.” You said with a sly smile on your face.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and then a smile broke out across his face because he couldn’t keep a straight face as he said “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweet girl…hey Shortcake, you think you can convince Matt to have one of these? Look at how cute she is, huh?” He joked in a whisper.

Even in the dim light of Anna’s room, you could see Shortcake blush and shy away from the two of you in embarrassment.

Elbowing Billy in the stomach, you playfully scolded him. “Don’t embarrass her, Billy.”

Quietly, the three of you tip toed out of Anna’s room. Billy had something he wanted to ask Shortcake and earlier at dinner he asked if it sounded like a good idea. You told him it sounded perfect.

“Shortcake, I wanted to ask you something and you can say no if you want but I was wondering if you could do a tattoo on me for Anna? Since I fired Andy for looking at my wife’s ass too much, he’s definitely not doing it. But I think that just means that maybe you were meant to do it anyway. I want her name and a raven next to it, if you’re up for it.”

Shortcake was practically speechless. Nervously, she stumbled a little over her words when she answered Billy’s question.

“Billy…I really don’t know what to say. To trust me with such an important piece, having to do with your daughter. I—I would love to do that for you.” She replied, her eyes shined with unshed tears.

Snaking your arms around Billy’s waist, his hands held you tightly against him and he moved his hands up and down along your spine causing goosebumps to dance across your skin, and you could feel him relax.

He felt very content.

“Good, thank you. We can talk more about it on Monday.” He said.

On her way out, Shortcake pulled both of you in for a hug. “Thank you both. Little bird is just so special and I—I just love her to death.” She said.

You smiled warmly at her and replied. “And she loves you. Thank you again for tonight.”

Shortcake turned back to look at you and Billy after walking out the door and said with a smile.

“Anytime.”

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