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rebelumbrella46 · 3 months

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HOTD 2X02 "Rhaenyra The Cruel" Thoughts!

Green Side:

Aegon: Tom's performance as Aegon was exceptional, allowing me to sympathize with his character throughout the episode. I could deeply feel Aegon's pain and rage, especially in moments where he needed comfort and was denied. Alicent’s inability to provide motherly solace was striking; even Cersei, in all her madness, was a more nurturing mother. Aegon's inadequacies as a king are clear—he’s young and impulsive. One of the episode's standout scenes is Otto reprimanding him, realizing the monumental mistake he made in thinking Aegon could be controlled. Aegon will never be as pliable as Viserys. This parallels the frustration Daemon feels with Rhaenyra, who, ironically, exhibits the patience and indecision that mirror her father.

Otto: Otto is a character I love to hate, and the actor’s portrayal this episode was a highlight for me. His regret and frustration with Aegon’s choices were palpable, showing that karma is catching up to him. I also appreciated the subtle grief Otto displayed when speaking of Viserys, indicating a complex mix of respect and genuine care despite his actions. The scene where he dismisses Alicent’s attempt to seek solace was particularly telling—it highlighted a pattern where comfort is consistently denied, first to Alicent and then by her to Aegon.

Alicent: Alicent was insufferable this episode; I found it impossible to empathize with her. She continually makes the situation about herself, oblivious to her children’s suffering and unable to provide them with any comfort. As someone who has read the books and knows how her story ends, all i can say is that the Gods for more cruel that they are, wouldn't take it out on an innocent child for the crimes you have committed and in the end the punishment would be ten times worst.. a very fitting end if they decide to go for it.

Aemond: Aemond had a brief but significant moment where he confessed his feelings over the incident with Luke. This scene showed a level of remorse that sets him apart from Daemon, particularly in this episode. Aemond’s awareness of the pain his actions cause to others and the brewing rivalry between him and Daemon were well portrayed.

Helaena: Helaena, my poor sweet child, continues to be a character I deeply care for. She doesn’t seem to appreciate the public’s sympathy, as if she knows the whole situation is wrong. And knows these people could so easily turn on her, i'm pretty sure she saw it even. The citizens of King’s Landing have long been depicted as some of the most unsavory characters in the history of Westeros. Their actions and attitudes throughout the series often highlight their fickle and ruthless nature. This is why, every time I recall Daenerys burning the city, I find it difficult to muster any sympathy for them.

The brief encounter on the stairs, where Aegon denies her comfort, reinforces the pattern of emotional neglect seen throughout the episode.

Criston Cole: I have to give immense credit to the writers for their incredible work in depicting Criston Cole. With each episode, my hatred for this character grows exponentially. Kudos to the actor as well, who is doing a marvelous job. But honestly, every time Cole appears on screen, all I can think is: "How much longer until this guy meets his end? Hopefully, it's a very horrible one.". His manipulation of Arryk, sending him to his death, was disgusting.

What’s even more infuriating is Cole's blatant hypocrisy. He projects his own shame and regret onto others, acting as if he's on some moral high ground. His self-righteousness is maddening, especially given his own shady actions. I found myself wishing Otto would expose him in front of Aegon—reveal how, while Aegon's child was being murdered, Cole was with Alicent, another person whose hypocrisy drives me mad. (Like Aerys "the Mad King" kind of mad, wanting to see them both burn)

Despite showing guilt for his actions, he repeatedly makes the same mistakes. The only moment Alicent gained a bit of my appreciation was when she reminded Cole of his betrayal of Rhaenyra’s trust for his absolution last season.

i truly don't want to see anymore of Alicent and Cole intimate scenes.

The decision to name Cole as Hand of the King is a boon for Team Black, as he is likely to make poor decisions and counsel Aegon poorly, ultimately working in their favor.

Black Side:

Rhaenyra standing up to Daemon was a powerful moment. Their confrontation, though painful to watch, was necessary. Daemon’s actions have deeply wounded Rhaenyra, and his lack of remorse is entirely in character. His abrupt departure leaves Rhaenyra in a position where, despite knowing he loves her, she can no longer trust that he will remain by her side.

I'm interested to see what his reaction will be next episode when he finds out that Rhaenyra was almost killed on her bed right after he left her to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Rhaenyra’s concern and regret for Helaena were touching. I believe she would welcome Helaena if she ever chose to leave the Greens. However, I was uneasy about Rhaenyra sending Baela instead of Jace. While I understand her reluctance to risk her heir after losing a child, it felt dismissive of Baela's well-being, who we have to remember is still Rhaenyra's step-daughter.

Baela and Jace: The brief scene where Baela confesses her occasional hatred for Daemon was surprising but added depth to her character. Jace reminiscing about Harwin and Laenor was a nice touch, evoking memories of characters I miss, including Luke.

Rhaenys: As always, Rhaenys remains my favorite character on Team Black. Her knowing look at Daemon, recognizing that only he could have orchestrated such actions, was telling. The quiet moment between Rhaenys and Corlys, reflecting their mutual support despite not being Queen and King, contrasted sharply with the dysfunctional relationships of Viserys and Aemma, Viserys and Alicent, and even Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Mysaria: Mysaria was another highlight for me. Her decision to speak truth to Rhaenyra and return her kindness by saving her life suggests a budding alliance. Rhaenyra needs someone as cunning and insightful as Mysaria to advise her.

The Twins - Arryk and Erryk: The twins' final fight was heartbreaking. Although I wish we had seen more of them this season, their confrontation poignantly illustrated the perils of war and how it harms even those not directly involved in the conflict.

I’m looking forward to seeing Daeron, who was finally mentioned. I can’t help but think he might be the only salvageable son of Alicent, likely because he grew up away from her and Otto’s influence. I’d love to see more of Rhaena and am eager to meet characters like Hugh Hammer and Adam. The brief return of Seasmoke was a pleasant surprise—I missed seeing him too!

Overall, this episode was much stronger than the last.

Rest in peace little Jaehaerys.

P.S: Don't think i didn't see Visenya's and Vhagar's mention this episode, on the book Rhaenyra opens. My favorite Conqueror and targaryen woman. I cannot wait for The Conquest Prequel. So excited

#house of the dragon #hbo #fire and blood #house targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #daenerys targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #house hightower #team black #team green #visenya targaryen

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haystarlight · 2 years

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I stared at this picture for a little too long and wrote this:

"Mom says I have to go back to school soon," Luz lamented, like she was giving them some terrible news. She laid down on the grass, next to her girlfriend, feeling the warm sunlight on her tan skin.

"Yeah, that makes sense; I couldn't go in your place forever," reasoned Vee, who was on her basilisk form, laying on her stomach and playing with a leaf she'd found on the ground. "I'm gonna have to lend you my notes, you have a lot of homework to catch up on."

All 6 kids were hanging out on the front yard of the abandoned house taking a little break from all the research they had been doing trying to build a portal. Being on an isolated location rarely visited by unknown humans allowed them the freedom to uncover their ears, let out their Palismen and use magic as they pleased. It was a very comfortable place.

Amity noticed her girlfriend's bad mood and closed the book she was reading to look at her.

"Maybe we can come with you?" she suggested, on an attempt to cheer Luz up.

"Oh, oh!" Gus exclaimed, jumping up and down on the tree branch he had climbed. The others worried that he would fall, but they knew they could catch him if he did. "We can attend human classes and learn like you did at Hexside! I can take notes and show the kids from the H.A.S. when we get back!"

"Aww, that's really sweet, you guys," smiled Luz, endeared by the image. "but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Aaww, why not?" Gus pouted.

"Well, for starters, none of you have birth certificates or any legal documents to get enrolled."

"And?"

"And you guys still don't know a lot about humans, you're probably going to blow your cover."

"And?"

"And human school is actually really horrible and boring," Luz frowned, fighting back old memories of bullying and bad grades and rude teachers.

"I honestly really like human school," said Vee "it's fun!"

"You're insane," whispered Luz, though it was clear that she was joking.

"Guys, I'm actually with Luz on this one," Hunter said. He was sitting cross-legged under Gus's tree, idly petting Flapjack.

"Who are you and what have you done with our Hunter?" Gus leaned down to glare daggers at his older friend.

Hunter laughed. "But seriously, going to human school is quite risky and we need to stay focused on building the portal!"

"Come on, Hunter!" argued Amity "I thought you of all witches would've jumped at the chance to study and learn new things."

"Not saying I don't want to, I'm saying it's a bad idea," Hunter got defensive "you're with me; right, Willow?"

Willow, who had been laying at Amity's side and looking away from them this whole time, didn't respond.

"Willow?" Hunter asked again.

This time, Willow turned around and let out the biggest, loudest, ugliest snore ever. The girls, especially Amity, looked disgusted while Gus laughed. Hunter, meanwhile, stared at her open-mouthed like this was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"That explains why she hasn't talked for like, 20 minutes," said Gus, still laughing.

"Shhhh!! Don't wake her!" Hunter shushed him "let her sleep, she needs it."

"You're kidding, right? She's the one always keeping us awake with her ungodly noises," Amity rolled her eyes as she said this.

" 'Sides, Willow can sleep through pretty much anything," added Luz.

Vee suddenly smiled maniacally. "Let's test that theory."

She took her leaf and started tickling Willow's face with it.

While Vee kept at it, the other 3 observed with quiet giggles. Hunter rolled his eyes, a little annoyance, a little fondness. Honestly, if it had been anyone else, he probably would've been onboard with the joke but his soft spot for Willow made it difficult to make fun of her.

He sighed, hopeless. She was just so adorable and delicate and beautiful. He watched her, still snoring and drooling and kicking Amity in her sleep a little bit. The sunlight reflected on her glasses in the most perfect way and he suddenly wanted to keep this moment with him and commit it to memory.

That's when he remembered that Willow's (originally Camila's) camera was still in her bag and, without really thinking, he took it and snapped a picture of this absolutely wonderful image.

Unfortunately, the flash from the camera attracted attention from the rest of the group. They all stared at him strangely, making his face and ears go a deep shade of red.

"What was that?" asked Luz, though her smile implied she already knew.

"I-I j-just..." he stuttered, scrambling for a good answer "I w-wanted to capture the moment cause... it seemed like it'd make a good picture because... uh..." he sighed, defeated "she just looked so cute."

"Cute?" Amity laughed "are you sure? that starfish creature next to me?"

That made Hunter's face even redder. "I think it's actually weirdly endearing!"

The other 4 laughed and Gus especially shaked his head in disbelief. Love really did make you blind and deaf. If what he'd seen from Luz, Amity, Hunter and Willow was any indication, he feared the day he would find the love of his life, for that would be the day he'd forever lose all his braincells.

Not long after that, Willow stirred awake. She stretched her arms, took off her glasses to rub her eyes and groaned.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" said Luz, cheerfully.

"Did you have a nice nap?" asked Vee, dropping the leaf.

"Yeah," Willow smiled, still a little sleepy.

"Oh! Willow, look!" Luz called her attention, quickly grabbing the photograph from Hunter's grasp and handing it to his crush.

Willow looked at the picture, pleasantly surprised.

"Aww, what a nice photo! It's a really cute and fun moment and the light is hitting my face just right!"

Hunter felt an odd mix of embarrassment from her seeing the picture and pride from her liking it. Willow was really passionate about photography, not to mention the most amazing witch he knew, so the compliment meant a lot.

"This is really good, who took it?" she looked at the 2 boys, because it was obvious none of the girls had done it.

Hunter avoided eye contact and fidgeted with Flapjack's feathers shyly while Gus got a shit-eating grin on his little face.

"Hunter took it!"

Hunter looked up at his younger friend, feeling betrayed.

"Wow, Hunter!" Willow smiled at him "I didn't know you were such a good photographer."

Hunter was blushing much more happily now. He allowed himself to return her smile, showing off his tooth gap.

"I learned from the best," he miraculously managed to say without fainting.

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profeyandere · 1 year

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𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 𝐊. ─── ☾ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃

ʟɪɴᴋꜱ ↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ʙʀᴜ̈ʜʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ ↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2ᴋ ↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴀꜱᴢʟᴏ ᴋʀᴇɪᴢʟᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀꜱ

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

That little building in New York no longer felt like the warm, sweet home he loved so much. Now, everything around him had been covered in a dark thick icy mist that had appeared once he had made sure that you were gone. He didn't expect to be able to blame you for it, either.

Laszlo, no matter how hard he tried to search his innermost thoughts, could not remember having felt such sharp and persistent pain in his life until he finally found the courage to return home and face the situation in which he had found himself. He had become immersed because he was unable to keep his mouth shut and the comments at bay, finding that tragic December night a home that was no longer what he had left that same morning. In the depths of his heart he hoped to see you in the living room, sitting in his armchair or on the soft sofa that characterized the room, with one of his many blankets in your lap while you tried to calm your usual nerves about meeting him again or doing one of the many activities you planned for the afternoons, perhaps reading one of the various astronomy books in which you had shown special interest in recent months with a cup of chamomile to soothe your headaches or trying to finish knitting the dark wool gloves for him with the excuse that even if you didn't like that activity, you wanted him to stay warm enough during the harsh winter that was lashing New York while investigating the latest case he had been involved in, even if he knew that your disgust for the last mentioned activity was a little lie that you had developed over the years and that he had discovered by having seen you smile on more than one occasion while you practiced with Mary a new type of stitch; you always showed a particular distaste for activities that were characteristic of women, but he had learned to observe that you were actually quite content with them and that you could come to appreciate them even if you claimed otherwise.

But now that he had returned home, he felt an emptiness in him, not hearing your playful laugh resonate because of some joke that Stevie had told you, nor could he distinguish your quick and agile steps becoming louder and closer that indicated that you had heard him home, much less was he able to feel the warmth that enveloped his home when you were in it. He noticed the lack of your presence, and it was not necessary to be very intelligent or have a university degree to make sure of it because he only had to analyze himself to realize it; Anguish had been the feeling that had taken over his body, then eliminating the anger that had been controlling him for much of the day.

Laszlo hadn't wanted you to get involved in the case of the missing children, the same ones that days later turned up murdered wherever the maniac who ended their lives wanted to show them. He assumed from the beginning that the scenarios in which he would be involved would be dangerous, after all, they were looking for a murderer, and he knew that the places they would visit would be quite unpleasant judging by what John Moore, his dear friend, had previously described. He just wanted to keep you safe, in the comfort of his home, while he and the small team he had assembled took it upon themselves to put an end to the wave of murders that was causing so much fear in the inhabitants of the splendid American city.

All he did was try to keep you away from the monsters beyond the gates of his home, but he didn't make sure that the most horrible being you had at your side. You had him, and he wasn't able to protect you then.

Tension, nerves, and anxiety had taken over his body, being felt that he was unable to control for not finding a solution to the case on which he was working so hard. He felt devastated for not finding a solution to such a problem, being forced to constantly search and review the same psychology books that he had read so many times and that, on this occasion, were not providing him with the required help. Barely a few days had passed since the death of the first young people belonging to rather unfortunate families was announced, but the desire to end it became more palpable as the hours passed; The only thing the doctor wanted was to end the case with a happy ending, return home as he usually did and hug you, thus eliminating the intrusive thoughts that crowded his mind and that prevented him on many occasions from resting as it should. You, being aware of the latter, had decided to visit Laszlo at his usual place of work to check his state of health.

He would have appreciated your visit on other occasions, he would have felt a familiar tingle once he had seen you open the door of his office to greet him with your loving smile, and he would have watched your bright eyes that would light up more and more as the seconds passed, and you watched him, but at that moment all he saw in you was a distraction he didn't want to deal with; he didn't want to be with you at that moment, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. You greeted him excitedly, asking about his day, and soon after you started talking about how worried you were that he was so deep in the case that he wasn't even taking care of himself, which you assumed all along and which is why you asked John and Sarah to take care of him while you weren't around; Although your innocence, concern, and dedication to the doctor could be seen as a blessing in most cases, he just wanted you to shut up at that moment, turn around and go home, he just wanted you to understand what his cold look wanted to tell you, but it was not like that.

You didn't understand him, or you didn't want to, and Laszlo took it out on you.

You saw his shoulders tense as you approached him and his desk, this time lowering your tone of voice as you presumed that a new wave of emotional headaches was at work again in his head. You sighed softly and walked around his desk, positioning yourself on one side of him with the intention of easing that pain by massaging his temples. It was when you finally placed one of your delicate hands on top of his, gently stroking the knuckles of his left hand to calm him down and show your support, that you finally saw how the beast he seemed to have kept hidden finally came out to unleash its full wrath on you. He quickly withdrew his hand from yours, surprising you with the movement and causing you to take a step back to give him some space, then raised your head to meet his gaze with yours, his being the one that flashed with feelings of anger and rage that ran through his body and that was impossible to control. He raised his voice at you in a way you didn't expect, ordering you to get out of his office, leaving you completely shocked by what had just happened and by what you had heard. You tried to refute what he had just told you, asking and begging him to let you stay and letting him know that you wouldn't speak anymore if he required it, but then he started to hurt you with the words that you would have least imagined. You had always had certain limitations in learning, you always recognized that obvious fact, and many times you doubted that your intelligence was the same as that of an average person your age, you had even felt bad enough on several occasions to question yourself if it was enough for Laszlo for that small impairment, but it was his words of encouragement, full of affection and always sincere that made those intrusive thoughts disappear, but now he brought out that insecurity to make you see that perhaps your assumptions were correct; He pointed out how stupid you looked around him and how you tried to keep people from seeing that big flaw of yours through the kindness you showed, trying to make witty comments but only making others laugh at how silly you seemed and that The fact that people were so sweet to you was because they found you as silly as a 3-year-old.

In short: Laszlo confirmed your biggest fear.

From the moment the doctor began to bring up that insecurity, placing special emphasis on what others thought of you, you felt how you stopped hearing from one moment to the next. You could perfectly see your fiancé open and close his mouth, and move his hands to express himself more freely, but it was impossible for you to understand what he was saying due to the feeling of sadness and anxiety that had begun to devastate you. You had heard of anxiety attacks, Laszlo had explained them to you after you had had to calm down one of the many children at school who had sought refuge in you the first time he attended the doctor's therapy, and, now if you were suffering it in the same way that young man suffered then, he made you understand that Laszlo was no longer a safe place for you; he was the one who was causing that to you, and you didn't want that to happen again, you refused.

When Laszlo watched you leave with teary eyes, your chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, and your hands slightly trembling, he knew he hadn't been able to protect you the way he wanted. He had failed you.

Now that he was home, remembering those agonizing minutes you'd suffered, he couldn't help but grit his teeth at the rage he felt at himself, letting out a snort to calm the anxiety that had begun to take over him. With his heart in a fist, he began to walk slowly towards the living room while he prayed that you were waiting for him there, just as he had previously imagined when he had entered his house, but it was not like that. Stopping on the threshold that separated the living room from the hall, he made sure that the vibrant colors that were always in that room were just a product of his imagination because now that you weren't there; everything had taken on grayer and sadder colors, only having a small flash of crimson in the small ring that was on the coffee table in front of the sofa that you always occupied to talk about your busy mornings and afternoons, both of you using that precise moment to appreciate to the other in the way you longed for, but now you weren't there, just the reminder that you were once there.

Laszlo realized that he had lost you forever and there would be no way to get you back.

The house felt cold again and as lonely as it had before I met you.

#laszlo kreizler #laszlo #kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x oc #reader #you #oc #daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler imagine #daniel brühl imagine #the alienist

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marvelgurl789fanfics · 10 months

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Little One (One-Shot #3)

Check out Karra https://www.tumblr.com/marvelgurl789fanfics/733491072755466240/my-dark-urge-tav-karra-a-63-drow-with-ascended?source=share

Check out One-Shot #2 https://www.tumblr.com/marvelgurl789fanfics/734336966341083136/one-shot-2?source=share

A/N: Astarion ascended or spawn version gives me girl dad vides. I have a few other ideas for these one-shots, but if you have any ideas you would like me to write let me know.

warning: talk of child abuse. (but has a happy ending)

Masterlist:

-Little One-

Karra was walking down the streets of the city enjoying the sun with Astarion, and looking for new toys. Many people went by them as she continued their walk, but nobody looked too much like a fun toy. People moved out of their way as they walked not knowing her murderous nature but that he was powerful man. They walked past an ally and heard crying usually it would make her smile to hear such misery, but for some reason her heart broke at the sound. looking into the ally she seen a purple tiefling child looking no more than 7 years old with a broken horn and covering one of her eyes with her hand as it bled. looking over the child it looks as she's been beaten and cut up as her already rags of clothes torn horribly.

"Child what happened?" Karra asked approaching the child walking from Astarion's side to the ally. the Child flinched at her voice and curled up in a ball trying to protect herself. Astarion signed a bit annoyed that his lovely moment was ruined he had the two things he loved most the sun and his mad love. "Darling leave the street rat alone" Astarion said annoyed this child reminded him of his horrible past and he didn't like it one bit. Karra ignored Astarion and kneeled to the child with her red dress pooling around her as she did. She gently reached out her hand to the shaking girl, gentleness that's only given to Astarion and Scratch. The girl slowly looked at Karra still covering one eye as before. "May I look?" Karra asked gesturing to the girl's eye. The girl still shaking but allowed her with a small nod moving her hand away, Karra looked over the girls bruised face. the girl slowly opened the eye or the socket where the eye once was.

Astarion made a face of disgust "Really love, leave it be and let's go". but much to his surprise Karra picked up the child and began carrying the child back the way they came to their home. "I demand you put that thing down right now" Astarion said beyond annoyed, but Karra ignored him and continued on her way home with the child. Time like this he so wished she could be controlled like other spawns, damn tadpole. Astarion complained and demanded Karra to stop and put the child the whole way home but let out an aggravated sign as they reach their door. He followed Karra into their home and to their room to finally the master bathroom, where she finally put the child down. and began to use one of their many magic scrolls to fill their large tub and warm the water. Knowing at this point he can't stop her and left to go brood in his study.

Astarion didn't know how much time had passed, but he was shaken out of his thoughts as the door to his study open. the teifling child looked around in almost anew not noticing Astarion tell he cleared his voice. The child looked startled but calmed, at least she looked clean and patched up, bandages wrapped over her eye wearing one of his old shirts as a dress much to his displeasure. the child just continued to look at him, "what are you doing?" Astarion asked a bit harshly. "The nice lady said I could look around" the child answered no more than a whisper. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose of course Karra would give the child free run of the place. Asterion looked up as the child approached closer to him. "Are you going to be my father? the lady said she's my new mother?" the child asked. Astarion bit his tongue from just yelling at the child. "Don't you have parents to go home to?" Astarion asked glaring at the child, but the girl just shook her head no now looking down at her feet. "My daddy left, mommy said it was my fault and hit me and told me never come back" the girl said sounding like she was about to cry, as much as he hated it the child words broke his heart.

"Your mother did this to you?" he asked and the girl just nodded yes tears begging to pool in her eyes. Astarion didn't know what possessed him but within a moment he had the girl pulled into his lap hugging her as she cried. rubbing small circles on the girls back the girl crying began to subside to just whimpers. knowing that Karra made her choice of the child is staying there was no use in fighting it she was too stubborn more so than him if possible. "Do you have a name?" he asked with a deep breath of defeat. "Abby" the girl mumbled into his chest. "You two look cozy" Karra smiled as she entered the room to the girl cuddled into her loves chest. Astarion snapped his eyes to her with a bit of an annoyed glare. "Well it appears you already made the choice of her staying" He said trying to sound cold but failed, as Karra moved to the two she noticed the child had fallen asleep on him. "Well we can't have children or our own my love and I don't know how to explain it but my urges aren't telling me to hurt her but to protect her." Karra said sitting by him gently running her fingers in his hair the way she knows he likes. "Well we better get her some proper clothing and bedroom if she is the be our daughter" Astarion replied still holding the sleeping child. "oh you don't want to be her bed she looks so comfortable" Karra teased placing a kiss to his temple while Astarion grumbled.

#astarion fanfic #astarion imagine #tav x astarion #astarion x dark urge #astarion x reader #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion

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grimrester · 8 months

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made the mistake of reading too much hazbin hotel discourse regarding angel dust and the depiction of abuse and sexual assault in the most recent episode, and basically all of it is extreme in either direction in a way that makes me powerfully sad.

ive seen survivors say the episode and the musical numbers in particular made them feel horrible, and others say it made them feel seen and comforted. and genuinely i can see both sides.

it's clear that hazbin got a lot of things right about the effects of long term sexual assault. many survivors do become hypersexual as a response, or lean hard into pleasing their abuser. angel flipping between afraid, disgusted, and flirtatious from moment to moment is realistic. and the fact that angel is working in porn while this is happening is true to life - the porn industry is rampant with sex crimes, rape, and abuse. i've seen a lot of people praising the poison musical number for not shying away from some pretty rough depictions of assault, and in principle i agree that sometimes a tepid fade to black isn't the right approach. there is also absolutely power in the depiction of a survivor who is not a perfect, sad, or sex repulsed victim.

but i also find it really hard to disagree with survivors who found the episode really tasteless. i frankly don't think it would be under as much scrutiny as it is if vivzie and some of her team didnt have a history of uncritically romanticizing abuse and sexualizing assault. but they do, so it is.

it is genuinely really hard to tell when angel is putting on a performance for an audience in the story and when he's doing it for the titilation of the real-life viewer (or both). the poison number literally smash cuts scenes of his abuse with scenes of him dancing sexily and looking directly at the viewer.

and i get what they're going for here - angel has to perform to survive, so he's performing. if they had animated it differently maybe it would be easier to tell who his performance is for. if they showed the cameras filming him, for example. instead, all the shots are up close and focused on angel and his body. they show val or the other porn "actors" occasionally, but not much.

part of the issue is that they set these scenes in a music video format at all. i'm not the kind of person who thinks you can't make fun, poppy music about dark subjects, but usually the music videos for those kinds of songs don't show the acts in graphic detail, and there's a reason for that. it is very, very offputting to see gif sets or aesthetic edits of angel dancing knowing the context of the dance is that he was just violently assaulted multiple times. people are going to be doing sexy dance covers of this song on tiktok. and i hate calling it sexy given what the scene is about, but viv and her team designed some scenes in this musical number pretty explicitly with the goal of looking cool and sexy. and, sorry, but that leaves a pretty yucky taste in my mouth.

to be clear, there's nothing wrong with sexualizing angel in general. if the admittedly cool choreography was an entirely separate scene from the depictions of assault instead all part of the same musical number, i don't think the negative reaction would have been nearly as strong. i haven't heard one peep about the scene shortly before the musical number where val hits angel, because it just didn't have the tonal dissonance that the poison scene has.

this is a long ass post no one is going to read so i'll just sum it up with this: my problem with viv's work in general is that while sometimes she hits on topics that strike a meaningful chord with her audience, she doesn't seem to actually be thoughtful about her storytelling and the various ways it might be interpreted. this is just another example of that.

#spoilers and discussion of scenes of SA after the cut

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waddei · 6 months

Text

idea for a story i had i cant quite get out my mind bear with me this is long

it revolves mainly around a group of cavers sent to explore a very deep cave by local authorities, the man that is said to oversee the expedition (from the official side) is young and overworked, desperate to prove himself as fit for the position his father placed him in

he meets with the group of cavers, between them he bonds specifically with the leader, a man in his mid thirties who really saw how tired and anxious he was and who spent what little time they had in private telling him wonderfull stories about previous dives like fairytales. the young man is really touched by his passion and is determined to help him from his side as much as possible.

the group was large, but only one other person caught the mans attention, a man only slightly older than himself that seemed really close with the captain, he heard one of the other men in the group whisper that he was the newest addition to the group and that this would be his first big mission

the other young man was nervous but exited and he clings to the olders arm when possible.

he sees them desend into the darkness togheter as the first ones of the group.

the story would follow 2 pov, out og office boy and the caver boy going one day at a time.

very quickly communication with the team below becomes difficult, the setting in my mind is not truly modern, i imagine theyll be doing their best to set up cables from the entrance to the cave to get direct communication.

during the office boy (he doesnt have a name sorry) segments hed be stressing over the whole thing, the consensus on the surface is that the expedition should be called off. what little information they get from below paints an incresitly worrying picture and office boy becomes very quickly overwhelmed by it all, his father presures him quite a bit too.

every time he goes to sleep the story switches povs.

the cavers seem to be doing fine actually! sure the issues w comunication are a bummer but theyre making good progress and everyones chilling! here we would get to see the relationship betwen cave boy and the captian, a sortan mentor/student bond, almost like father and son.

most of the worrying things said trhough comms seem like horible misundersteandings here. "we're runnning low on food' cut out right before they could explain how they found lots of edible mushrooms growing in the walls.

meanwhile in the surface, after comms cut out completly, the team below is presumed dead by everyone but office boy whos very clearly hanging all his self worth on this going right and seems to belive he knows every man on that team better than everyone else.

he talks with the mens families, particularly the captains. his wife doesnt seem to fond of him and neither do his children, the man they describe is far from the one that so sweetly told office boy all the wonderfull things about his life and his team, far too from the loving man we've seen from cave boys povs

that same night the divers find fresh water on a stream below the ground, they eat while laughing and joking with each other, not tired from thier jurney at all.

he talks with cave boys family next, his brother seems to not like him too much either, he talks about the captain with disgust too, calling him a cheater and a horrible influence, and implies a lot of things that office boy actively ignores

as he finds out more about these men, their issues with each other and the other people in their lives and how they really where beyond the smile they showed him (their superior mind you) things in the cave seem to get better and better before it becomes abuntantly clear to the audience that we never saw the pov of the cavers, and all that storyline was office boys daydreams based completely in the embelished stories the captain told him before going

he never knew cave boy, but he placed himself in his shoes anyways. he saw a split second of what he thought was a mentor/student dinamic and ran with it, HE wished he could have simply gone down into the cave instead of dealing w his current life, HE wished he could be guided by a man as seemingly patient and loving as the captain

so he ignored all the sppl telling stories of him having been cruel to his team members, negletfull towards his children, unloving towards his wife.

he wanted to be cave boy, who carried himself with confidence despite his busted shoes, who so casually talked to the captain like knew each other as more than just coworkers, he wanted to be that guy that would look just like him if you where to iron his shirt and comb his hair

he still lies to himself about this for a while longer, he argues with his peers about this all being true like he himself was there to know. it becomes clear to everyone around him,specially his father, that hes lost his mind.

meanwhile in "the cave" the teams finds everything they conviniently would ever need, the dreams becoming shameless self indulgence for a man whose life is falling apart

finally cave boys brother one day shares with him ( who has been obssesibly calling him as mcuh as he can) that he suspected his brother was having an afair with the captain. this of course makes out insane office boy really mad, he tries to argues about the lives of strangers hes never truly met with someone that shared a house wiht one of them. the brother refuses to talk to him after that

the team at the cave sleep in comfortable beds made of soft moss in a spacious cave softly illuminated by undiscovered mushrooms while office boy falls asleep at his desk

he gets fired,of couse and in my head this ends with him killinh himself but idk about that i think itll make sense but idlkkk

#wddy

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alexiela73 · 2 years

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Hi there!! I love your fics and I was wondering if you could write me a reaper x daughter reader where reader has been bullied in school and gets into a very physical fight? I need overprotective dad Gabe

Thank you, and thank you for waiting so long!

Breath coming in ragged gasps, your body was locked in a defensive position, though you leaned more on your left leg then you would have liked. It made you feel unbalanced, and that was never a good thing when readying to defend yourself.

Despite what felt like the beginning of obvious bruising to the side of your face, the real pain further up on your skull. Someone had grabbed a handful of your hair and you could see a few strands of your thick black hair on the ground now.

"Miss Reyes," you heard faintly over the pounding ache in your head. The voice was easily recognizable as one of the teachers, but you didn't turn to answer. "Miss Reyes, step away this instant!"

Your eyes remained locked on the group of teenagers in front of you, on the boy in the middle with the dirty blonde hair and the blood dripping onto his oh-so-perfect school uniform from his busted lip and oddly crooked nose. One of his friends held him up by his arm, pulling the boy back a step when your eyes flickered to him.

There was fear and cowardice in them, you thought.

"Miss Reyes, this is unacceptable!" the voice was much louder this time, and sharp talon like claws gripped your lower arm and spun you around to face the principal of the school, Ms. Schillings. Her cheaply painted lips were turned into a snarl, her small eyes shining with anger and disgust. "Unacceptable I say! Name calling, attacking another student- Have your parents taught you nothing but how to behave like a wild animal?"

"Me? Ms. Schillings, Damian is the one who started it-" you began, trying to explain the situation.

"Don't try to pin this on anyone else, Miss Reyes!" she snapped, wrenching your arm and giving you a shake. Her polished acrylic nails dug into the skin of your arm, biting so hard you had to grab her wrist in the hopes she'd stop shaking you so hard. "Always causing trouble for everyone else and thinking you don't need to do as your told. Well, I've had about enough of it!"

Panic welled in you. "Ms. Schillings, I promise I didn't start anything! I was trying to get to my math class and Damian just grabbed my hair and started saying horrible-" you tried again, but she cut you off.

"I can't tolerate this any longer. You'll pack up your locker, Miss Reyes. I'll be calling your parents, that's for sure. I hope your ashamed- with all the hard work your father put in to get you into this school, and you throw every opportunity out the window," she says, voice dripping with disgust.

Heart sinking, you looked around desperately. The hallway was flooded with students, most of who had seen the altercation- why wouldn't anyone speak up? How could they all hate me so much as to let me get expelled for something that wasn't my fault, you thought.

Letting you go, Ms. Schillings clapped her hands sharply. "Everyone to class, this instant. Damian, go to the nurses office. Miss Reyes, I'll see you at my office," she said, her voice loud and clear.

The students in the hall quickly shuffled to their classes as the principal walked away. Damian wiped his nose, still leaning on his friend.

"See? I told you, freak. People like you don't fit in with people like us- Bet your dad knows that better then anyone," he sneered, and the two started making their way to the nurses office.

You stood there watching them go...who knew how long you stood there for, in the middle of that hallway as classes took place. Your eyes stung with tears, and your throat felt thick. Why did this keep happening?

You started at this higher end school a quarter of the way through the year. It was your sixth school in three years, and all eyes had been on you when you had arrived.

From the very beginning, you had been a target of bullying in all the schools. Not because there was anything different about you in looks or speech, not because there was some defining feature that made you stand out to the people who felt the need to belittle others.

No...it was because of who your father was.

Gabriel Reyes, ex-captain of Blackwatch and more importantly, the recently released villain Reaper, was known to all the world. When he was released from prison a few years ago, he had been broadcasted across the world- after all, Reaper had committed some...questionable acts.

But when he'd realized that his old flame had birthed his child in secret, he made the hardest choice of his life. Looking at the soft toddler, with her mothers face and his eyes...he knew he wanted to be a part of your life. Truly a part of it, with no secrets. No danger.

So Reaper turned himself, and during those years he worked hard. Good behavior, rehabilitation, court orders, help from Overwatch... He did everything to lower the sentencing, the years. Everything so he could come home to you.

Your uncle Jack had had to explain this to you repeatedly as you grew- to remind you of the importance you held in your fathers life. Nothing could have sparked such life in his deadened heart...except the knowledge that you were out in the world.

That's why the anxiety rolled over you like crashing waves. Already you had been driven out of other schools- schools that clearly hadn't wanted you there, but it was so hard to find schools willing to take on the daughter of the notorious ex-con.

Each time got harder and harder to find you a school, and each time you tried to hide the pain, the fear and the exhaustion you felt from trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. Like you weren't tormented every time you walked into the school.

You loved your dad so much, and he'd begged last time. Pleaded, even- Ms. Schillings, in her own sadistic way, had taken great pleasure in making such a powerful man feel small and desperate. He tried so hard to provide for you, even when the world seemed to fight him for the smallest things.

To have him come here, to know that you had been kicked out...again, after he'd found work and an apartment...

Minutes passed by, and finally you felt yourself take the first step. You made your way slowly to your locker, where you opened it through bleary eyes and stared inside. It was mostly empty, except for your backpack, a book and a picture of you and your dad on the door.

The picture seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier, and you couldn't look away from him. You two looked so happy...even when he looked tired, he tried to be happy, for you.

"I'm sorry, dad..." you whispered, and a sob escaped your throat. "I-I'm s-s-so...so s-sorry...I'm so...." Your hands covered your face, and the words seemed like bricks in the pit of your stomach.

How angry or disappointed would he be? Did he regret the choices he'd made, when he decided to partake in your life? When he decided to become your legal guardian after your mother passed away?

Does he regret having me for a daughter, when it only made his life harder?

"Never," a deep, gravelly voice said gravely from behind you. "Y/n, I will never regret being your father."

Turning, you were caught in a strong pair of arms and instantly, you felt...safe. The familiar cologne of your father filled your nose, the unsteady beat of his heart in your ears as his hand cradled your head to his chest.

"D-dad," you sobbed, wrapping your arms around him and crying into his chest. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I-I promise, I didn't..."

"Shhh," his voice rumbled, vibrating through his chest and his hand gently rubbed between your shoulders. "Deep breaths, little one. Deep breaths. I'm here."

Most people thought of Gabriel has abrasive and rude. No one understood how soft and reliable he could be, the kind of rock he could be for someone he cared about.

Patiently he held you, rocking you softly, and only a glance from Gabriel was enough to send any potential stragglers or bathroom-seekers back to their classes and away into hiding. You knew no one would pull anything, not as long as he was in the hall.

It took a little longer to calm down, and when you did he gently lifted your face to brush away the tears. "Mi hija...," you recognized the softness in his rough voice, even as his eyes scanned your face. "Mi hija, your cheek...who hurt you?"

Jumping slightly from hiccups, you pushed away his hands and wiped at your eyes, which were puffy from all the crying.

"I...no one, papi," you said feebly, but you could see from his face that he wasn't buying it. "I just had an accident. No one-"

"Y/n," his voice was soft but stern. "That isn't an accident. The spot on your head- that is no accident. Don't lie to me, mi hija- please."

Sniffling, you tried to avoid his eyes when he forced you to look up at him, but when your eyes met his, you saw anger- but it wasn't anger directed at you. It was anger for you, for the pain you'd been caused, and his brows were furrowed in worry.

"Please," he said again. "Tell me the truth."

So...you did. It came forth, like a dam that had been threatening to crack and spill for so long. You told him about the cruel words hurled at you, the teasing, the way people would torment you. How the teachers acted like you were a liar, and how Damian had grabbed you by the hair and dragged you back.

How you had turned and punched him, just the way your dad had shown you, and how his friend had done the same to you in turn. How Ms. Schillings had humiliated you in front of the school, and expelled you.

How you had thought he'd be disappointed in you.

Though his face never changed, the tension in the air was palpable. Thick black mist seemed to cover the floor around both of your feet, seeping from his skin, and there was a flicker in his eyes- something truly monstrous.

Yet, Gabriel took your hands and kissed each one softly, placing a kiss on each bruised knuckle.

"I will always be proud of you," he said passionately. "Always, y/n. I'm so proud to have you for a daughter. I only wish...that I was the father you deserved."

"No, dad!" you said vehemently, gripping his hands tighter. "You're my dad, and I love you. Your everything to me. You've done everything for me...I just don't want to let you down."

Gabriel let go of one of your hands, carefully smoothing your hair back, ever so lightly grazing a finger over the swelling in your hair. "You won't ever let me down, kid," he promised.

Once more your dad hugged you, in the too tight way some fathers do that squeezes the air from your lungs, before letting you go and stepping back.

"Go out to the car, y/n. I still need to have a word with Ms. Schillings," he said, barely hiding his simmering temper. "I'll be right out."

"Dad, you know that you can't-," you said, voice slightly panicked, but you emptied your locker and pushed it closed.

"I know the rules. I won't kill, assault, scream, or destroy her or the boy," he said, as if reciting a list he's had to memorize. After a moment a wolfish grin slowly lit his features, and the look in his face...was rather haunting. "There's nothing about not being able to scare them though."

"Dad," you said, a bit more sternly.

Grunting, Gabriel waved his hands slightly. "Fine. We'll see- either way, I'm getting you out of this dump. No kid of mine is going to a shit school like this," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, glancing up and down the halls. "See you in the car, mi hija," he said.

Watching him and the black smoke cascading from him, you smiled slightly and started heading to the car.

That punch she threw was nothing compared to the fright they were all about to get.

#DaddyReaper #Dad Gabriel Reyes #gabriel reyes #Reaper #Gabriel Reyes Is A Dad #Overprotective Dad #School Fight #Didmybest!

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aparticularbandit · 2 years

Text

Finding Family: Part Five: Epilogue

Summary: When America begins universe-hopping again to try and find her moms, she realizes that’s too much scope for her. She looks for smaller scope, and instead she finds Wanda.

AO3

Common symptoms of depression, as defined by the Mayo Clinic in the years leading up to the Snap:

· “Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness

· Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters

· Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities…

· Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much

· Tiredness and lack of energy…

· Reduced appetite and weight loss or increased cravings for food

· Anxiety, agitation or restlessness

· Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements

· Feelings of worthlessness or guilt…

· Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things

· Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide

· Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches”

Scarlet never needed the list to tell her that she was depressed. She’d known the first time she’d seen the word, known that it labeled something intrinsic deep within her, known that if she checked yes next to that box on her volunteer form Hydra would shuffle her off somewhere else and so had never checked it, known that admitting it to anyone wasn’t a weakness – she wasn’t weak for being depressed, and she still isn’t – but that it was a vulnerability, a dressing down of walls she’d put into place to keep herself from getting hurt.

Pietro knew because she told him. Vision knew because he guessed, although they never discussed it because she’d been better with him. Nat knew because she told her – the only one of the Avengers she’d even told – and Clint knew because he’d seen some of the same signs in her that he’d seen in himself. Tony….

Maybe, if he’d been around, they might have been able to discuss some of their commonalities, but he was never around.

Funny, how many of the Avengers had been—

Scarlet has only ever brought her depression up with two people. It’s gone largely undiagnosed because she’d never had the money for therapy before becoming an Avenger, never really felt like reaching out when she was one and dealing with her grief over Pietro, and never really considered the possibility after Westview, although perhaps she should have.

It is strange to her, then, when it comes up with Agatha early one morning, while it is still dark outside of her window, stars just peeking through a thin cover of clouds.

It’s been bothering Scarlet, actually, since she brought Agatha back, although she’s never made a point of asking before. “Why is it,” she murmurs as she slides from atop her and rolls onto her back, “that you don’t call me Scarlet?” She pushes her hair back from where it’s fallen messily into her face. “Everyone else does.”

“Oh, so this is going to be the post-sex talk. Riveting topic you’ve chosen there, hon.” One corner of Agatha’s lips curves in something akin to a smirk. She curls onto her side and props her head up on one hand. “Being petty at first, I suppose.” Her eyes stare off to the upper left as she considers, not really focusing on anything. “But it never really fit for you, dear.” She shrugs. “Why Scarlet anyway? You had the whole realm of names and you picked, well, that.” That same corner of her lips turns upward in disgust. “You could have chosen so much better, babe.”

Scarlet gives her a look of disbelief. “Oh, really?” she says. “You mean like Agnes?” She catches the way Agatha flinches but continues anyway, “I would have been Wandoff. Or Maxida. Or—”

“Stop,” Agatha interrupts. “You’re killing me, Smalls.” She rolls her eyes, but the look she gives Scarlet is exceptionally fond. “Not everyone has a perfectly combinable name like Agatha Harkness. Although I suppose I could have used Hartha, hm?”

Scarlet snorts. “I would never have believed you. Never. Not in one million years. That is a horrible name.”

“Good thing I didn’t use it then.”

It would be nice, in this moment, for Agatha to kiss her. Vision would have, and that would have been the end of the conversation. In another universe, Agatha must kiss her. That’s how it is with the multiverse.

But in this universe, Agatha doesn’t kiss her, as she must know that Scarlet wants, doesn’t begin a gentle return to what they were doing only moments earlier. Instead, she asks again, “Why Scarlet? It’s not a particularly appealing name, hon.”

“I’m the Scarlet Witch,” Scarlet says, looking away from Agatha and situating her covers a little more warmly around her. “It felt apt. And….” She hesitates and curls her lips together before continuing. “After we saved Ash, Kate – you know Kate—”

“Yes, yes, Wendy’s little friend with the arrows.” Agatha turns one finger in the air, beckoning Scarlet to continue. “Keep going.”

Scarlet takes a breath in, steels herself. “She told me, before the Snap, that there were…that she was part of a group of kids who were obsessed with us. With the Avengers. They got all of the information they could on us. Tried to track us down when there were fights. Collected tidbits. Stuff like that.” She sighs. “Kate was obsessed with Clint, obviously, but her friend Scarlet was obsessed with me, and when I disappeared after the Sokovian Accords….” Her voice trails off, and her brow furrows as her eyes seem to search the empty air in front of her. “There was a fight going on – something with Scott – and she went down to try and find me, even though I wasn’t there, and she….” She bites her lower lip. “She died. But she never should have been there in the first place,” she continues immediately after saying it, rambling, as though to cover it up. “Children shouldn’t run into war zones looking for heroes and expecting that they’ll just be there to save them all the time. It ends up getting people hurt. It ends up getting people killed.” Her gaze moves, slow, to Agatha. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“I understand that you named yourself with guilt and self-hatred and not with an adorable pun, like you should have.” Agatha sighs. “Scarlet could have been a good pun, but no, just—” She gestures with her free hand at Scarlet. “—this.” With a little huff, she leans against the pillows and tenderly brushes her fingers through Scarlet’s hair. “Depression doesn’t look good on you, hon.”

Scarlet flinches, avoids Agatha’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, you don’t.” Agatha lifts a strand of Scarlet’s hair, smoothes it between her fingertips. “You wouldn’t know anything about being tired or trying to get multiple people to kill you or carrying around your guilt like it’s some huge burden that makes you, oh, I don’t know, worthless.” She sits up a little straighter. “Makes you not good enough. Deserving of infinite punishment. Hon.”

“Agatha,” Scarlet begins, glancing up at her, “I believe you were there when I put a whole town under mind control. You’ve no doubt heard what I did under the Darkhold’s influence—”

Agatha gives her a very pointed look. “Your worst decision there was reading the book, babe. Half of that stuff you – I – wouldn’t have done without—”

“How do you not feel guilty?” Scarlet interrupts, staring at her. “How do you not feel like you should be punished? Like you should die?”

For a moment, Agatha doesn’t say anything. The silence lingers, and as it does, Scarlet begins to grow uncomfortable, although she doesn’t take her questions back. Besides, the avoidance is answer enough. Maybe that’s what’s really making her unsettled.

Then Agatha lets out a breath and smiles, wistful. “I was like you once, dear,” she says, finally. “Couple hundred years ago or so. And I thought….” She chuckles darkly. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. What does matter is that someone a few hundred years older than I was decided to be kind enough to step in and save me.”

Scarlet scowls and crosses her arms. “I don’t need you to save me.”

“No, Wanda, you don’t.” Agatha snorts lightly. Her eyes search Scarlet’s. “No, hon, you want me for something else entirely.” Now she does lean down, gently pressing an unchaste kiss to her lips. “I don’t mind being used for this,” she murmurs, “but I’m not going to call you Scarlet, hon. Don’t think anyone else should either, since it’s just part of your guilt complex, but—”

Scarlet doesn’t let her finish, instead leaning up to silence her with another kiss, curling her fingers on the nape of her neck. “Wanda’s fine,” she murmurs. “Let’s not talk about it again.”

Three days later, Scarlet wakes up to find that Agatha isn’t there.

She stretches out her hand to the space behind her, expecting Agatha to be curled up and just facing the other direction, but there’s nothing, not even the warmth she would have left behind if she’d only gotten up a few moments earlier. This isn’t completely unusual; Agatha is restless and has a tendency to wake long before Scarlet does, although most of the time she returns to bed within a matter of moments, with a book or a cup of tea – or two cups of tea, idling keeping Scarlet’s warm with a twisting of her fingers while her mind is preoccupied with something else. It is unusual for her to be gone so long.

Scarlet sits up in bed, and before she can turn to see where Agatha might have gone, she notices her outside, standing in the apple orchard, a familiar mulberry carpetbag covered with muted gold paisley resting in one hand. Almost as though feeling her gaze, Agatha turns back to her and lifts one hand in a little wave.

Then she disappears in a cloud of purple smoke, laced through with tendrils of charcoal.

Immediately, Scarlet gets out of bed, shifts clothes onto herself – she’s not really paying attention to what clothes, so they’re a little mismatched, jeans are fine, cream-colored sweater is fine, two different tennis shoes are less fine – and rushes down the stairs. No one else is awake, or if they are, they aren’t in the living room and they certainly haven’t talked to Agatha (unfortunate for her that Agnes and Ash left, because usually one or both of them had been up first thing in the morning, setting breakfast or just talking with each other over mugs of something warm while they waited on everyone else to wake), which means no one else knows 1) that she’s gone or 2) where she might possibly be going. She pushes through the front door, hears it slam shut behind her, and then notices something out of the corner of her eye: Agatha, sitting at the rickety old table where she once met with America, sipping at a lavender-colored mug of coffee, one hand resting on that same mulberry carpetbag where it rests on the table.

“Good of you to join me, dear,” Agatha says as she meets Scarlet’s eyes. She pats the seat next to her, where a rosy-colored mug rests just on the table in front of it. “We should have a little talk.”

Scarlet raises an eyebrow, notices that her shoes are two different sorts, and subtly fixes them before sliding into the other chair. She wraps her hands around the mug, warming them with it. “You scared me,” she spits out, still staring at Agatha. “I thought you were gone—”

“Well, that was the point, wasn’t it, hon?” Agatha’s glance drops, and she takes another sip of her coffee before calmly saying, “I think it’s time that I leave. Take a vacation, if you will.”

Scarlet splutters on the sip she’d attempted of her chamomile tea. “Leave?” she echoes. Then she laughs. “No, no, no, you’re not going anywhere—”

“You’ll find, dear, that I will be going whether you like it or not.” There’s something firm underlying Agatha’s voice – not bitter, not angry, not even menacing, though it sets Scarlet’s heart to racing. Just there all the same. “You’ve kept me locked up for long enough now, and I....” She sighs, gazing out at the orchard in front of them, the apple trees that are just beginning to blossom. “It’s beautiful here, hon, it really is, but I was not made to be cooped up in one place for so long.”

Instinctively, Scarlet pulls an orb of chaotic magic into her free hand. “Agatha, I can’t trust that you’ll—” She cuts herself off as Agatha glances over to her. It’s the first time she’s seen something dead there, something dying, hopeless. She taes a deep breath in. “If you hurt someone, then I’ll be responsible.”

Agatha snorts, and her accompanying smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hon, you’d never even heard of me before Westview, and you only did then because I took pity on you and introduced myself.”

“You have a funny way of showing pity—”

“My point,” Agatha continues, cutting Scarlet off, “is that you didn’t hear about me before, so you wouldn’t hear about me now.” She glances over to her. “Or is there another reason you don’t want me to leave?”

“No.” The word is through Scarlet’s lips before she can consider any other option, and she crosses her arms, leans back against the chair, and refuses to meet Agatha’s eyes. “No other reason.”

Agatha nods. Then she stands, leans over and kisses Scarlet’s cheek gently. “Don’t worry, starlight. I’ll be back before you know it.” She grabs her carpetbag.

Scarlet’s eyes widen, and she looks up. “Back?”

“Of course. I wasn’t planning on going away forever, babe. You clearly need someone of my unique capabilities here to take care of you.” Agatha gingerly reaches over, cards her fingers gentle through Scarlet’s hair. “Someone to remind you that Wanda is a much better name than Scarlet—”

“Hey—”

Agatha smiles with the barest tinge of regret. “Unless, of course, you don’t want me to come back. I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome, hon.”

Scarlet sits up a little straighter, takes Agatha’s hand out of her hair, and kisses her knuckles. “You will always have a home here, Agatha. You’re family now. The kids would miss you if you never came back.” She scowls. “They think you’re the best history teacher they’ve ever seen. And without Ash here to teach Billy magic….” Her voice trails off. “You’d better come back, Agatha Harkness.”

At first, it seems like Agatha will reach down and kiss her again or pull her up and kiss her or something and kiss her, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lets Scarlet’s hand drop from hers, barely taking the time to rub her thumb along her knuckles before doing so, and then smiles. “I wouldn’t dream of staying away too long, Wanda.”

Then, as before, the violet cloud threaded through with black, and Agatha is gone.

Evenings at Scarlet’s house are, in her unprofessional opinion, the best part of the day.

Wendy still spends most of her days as she did before, curled up somewhere and quietly reading, although every now and again she will pull out a journal and write something in it. Sometimes it’s a new bedtime story she is crafting for Billy and Tommy, and sometimes it’s a spell that she’s still trying to figure out the best runes or incantations for – not that she needs them, as a fellow Scarlet Witch, but because she likes to have them, to fiddle with parts of witchcraft that give a better foundation for the magic she can so easily call forth.

Oftentimes, America is with Wendy, sitting close enough that Wendy can idly stroke her hands along America’s hair as she reads, close enough that, if she feels the need, she can stretch up and press an easy kiss to Wendy’s cheek. But more often than not, America spends her days elsewhere, traversing the multiverse just to see the different versions and varieties of things she can find. She always brings something back from her journeys – a trinket, a bag, a toy – to share with everyone, although she makes a point to stay with her family for Shabbat. Every Wednesday evening, she pulls out different recipes from the universes she’s traveled and creates new foods (or old foods with a new twist) for them to enjoy together, even if sometimes they all agree that what she’s created is actually pretty horrible. The jury is always out on whether that’s a fault with that universe or with America’s cooking.

Billy and Tommy settle into their new home as though it is no different than the one they have left. Billy doesn’t just love Scarlet, he adores her with a passion unmatched by his twin. Tommy starts off a little more in his shell; the loss of Vision hits him harder than it does Billy, and it is only when Scarlet discusses her own memories of her husband that Tommy begins to open up to her. Scarlet isn’t the best teacher, but she often teaches by example.

Every evening, the entire family finally comes together for dinner – each and every one of them, even America, back from her travels. Sometimes they talk about their day, and sometimes they talk about nothing at all. The important thing is that they are together and that, even when they aren’t speaking, they enjoy one another’s company. After dinner, they curl up together in the living room and, as Scarlet remembers doing when she was younger, they pick a television show and enjoy it together. America often pulls in various versions of things from other universes, but Scarlet goes for the old classics – shows she’d mimicked in Westview that, for some reason, don’t hurt as much as they once did. After the show, Wendy tells them all a bedtime story, by the end of which the boys are usually nodding off. Scarlet takes them upstairs, tucks them in, and kisses each of their foreheads gently, and more often than not, she lingers in the doorway, staring at them, surprised at how lucky she has gotten to be blessed with them again.

Sometimes, Scarlet goes to join Wendy and America in the living room afterwards. They talk or they see another episode of something (or a movie, although Scarlet is less inclined to the ones that Wendy and America want to see) or they play video games that Scarlet doesn’t want the boys to play (Mario Kart, Mario Party, and Super Smash Bros are one thing; Call of Duty, Halo, and Modern Warfare are entirely different. Not that Scarlet particularly likes those games either; she’s more into Dark Souls and the like, but Wendy says they remind her too much of Neverland, which always makes Scarlet wonder what Neverland had actually been like). The specifics matter less than the time spent comfortably together, that they can spend time comfortably together, and sometimes, Scarlet glances over to America and meets her eyes in the quiet acknowledgment of that fact.

But every now and again, Scarlet goes to her room by herself, sits in the middle of her bed, lets out a deep breath and thinks of all of the things that went wrong – and all of the things that went right – to get her to this moment. There are still things she would change – of course, there are – but she wouldn’t change the end result in the slightest.

One evening, Wong shows up, looking for the book she’d stolen from him, and Scarlet hands it back easily enough. “We don’t need it anymore.”

Wong doesn’t raise an eyebrow. He just nods with an unreadable expression. “I’m glad you made good use of it,” he says, “but please don’t steal from Kamar-Taj again. It makes me look bad.”

“And you wouldn’t want that.” Scarlet smirks, and for a moment, it feels…good. Like they have hit an acceptance of each other more than either of them ever would have thought possible after her attack barely more than a year ago.

Of course, that acceptance is interrupted by a pounding at the door and a sheepish look from Wong. Scarlet thinks that, like she had with Wong, like she had with other unexpected visitors, she should phase through the wall in pure Scarlet Witch costume, just to frighten them away, to intimidate them, but she realizes that she doesn’t feel that way anymore.

When she makes it to the door, Billy is standing there, waiting on her. “I don’t think he’s very happy, Mom,” he says.

“Who isn’t happy?” Scarlet asks, turning and opening the door to none other than Stephen Strange. “Ah.”

Stephen looks as though he is half-dressed for an altercation and half not – he’s in jeans and the same blue jacket he’d worn the last time he visited her in Sokovia, but his red cloak hovers at his neck. It’s a little mismatched – the cloak with the jacket – but Scarlet knows better than to even attempt the little laugh that is trying to claw its way up her throat. Instead, her hand moves instinctively to Billy’s shoulder, pulling him to her.

There are a lot of things Scarlet could say to Stephen at this point – You’re not taking my boys or I haven’t done anything this time or It took you long enough – but she steps back, holds the door open, and says, “Stephen. Why don’t you come in?”

Stephen glances inside the house and then steps across the threshold. He glances up, notes the runes in the mantelpiece, and nods. “Ah. Those are new, aren’t they?” He scuffs his feet on the welcome mat, though the snow is long since gone, and keeps his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “Wong said America is staying here now?”

Wendy glances up from where she’s curled up on the couch with a book in one hand. “She’s upstairs, actually.” Her gaze flicks to Scarlet. “She said something about wanting to add something to my room from some other universe, and I thought—” Her words are quickly interrupted by a pounding of feet on the stairs.

“Wendy, it’s done! You can come—” America makes it halfway down the stairs before seeing Stephen standing just inside the front door. Her eyes widen. “Oh. Uh. Hey? It’s been…it’s been a while?”

Scarlet gently closes the door behind her. “Stephen, why don’t you and Wong join us for supper? Whatever you have to say, you can tell us then.”

“Wanda, I don’t think that’s a good—”

“Scarlet,” Wendy interrupts immediately, correcting him. “She goes by Scarlet now. It isn’t very nice if you don’t use people’s proper names.”

Scarlet doesn’t glance over to Wendy, but instead she glances up and meets Stephen’s eyes. It’s surprising, sometimes, how much they look like Agatha’s, and a part of her regrets that the older witch isn’t here with her. For some strange reason, she feels like she would be safer if Agatha was here. Not that Stephen is dangerous or that she and her family are in any danger. If it comes down to it, she and Wendy could easily overpower him. That isn’t the problem.

She’s not quite sure what the problem is.

“It’s alright,” Wanda says, thinking of Agatha, agreeing with her. “I think it’s time for me to be Wanda again.”

Wanda doesn’t need to make extra chairs for the table, nor does she need to make it any bigger than it already is. After all, it had been large enough to hold Ash, Agnes, and Agatha before, so even with Wong and Stephen joining them, there is an extra chair off to one side, empty of any occupant.

Dinner isn’t anything extravagant, nothing that America’s made from other universes, just something simple – goulash in the tradition that Wanda has known it in, not the skimpy version she’d had in the Avengers compound so long ago (how could they even call that goulash? It was nothing of the sort), but a thick beef stew full of hearty vegetables with chunks of bread to sop up the juice. It isn’t like normal – there is no comfort to this dinner, only the underlying tension of Stephen suddenly showing up after being gone for all of this time.

Eventually, Stephen finishes, clasps his hands together, and starts, “America, I need your help with some multiverse shattering events.” There’s an awkwardness to his words, despite the firm manner he presents them with. “We could really use you on this—”

“Absolutely not,” Wanda says before he can even finish. Stephen gives her a look, but she continues anyway. “You can’t just show up just because you need someone and expect they’ll come help you save the world—”

Wong and America both kick her under the table, likely both remembering the trip across the multiverse to save Ash and her boys, and she gives them both a withering stare. “First off,” she says, turning to Wong, “you asked me for help—”

Stephen looks to Wong. “Really?”

Wong shrugs. “You weren’t available.”

“—and second,” Wanda turns to America, “I told you that you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, Wong was the one who insisted that we needed you, and you were the one who came in after us—”

“Hey, hey!” America holds her hands up in a defensive position. “You needed me and Kate! If it weren’t for us, then Mordo would have—”

“Mordo?” Stephen repeats.

Wong hides his hands within the folds of his robe. “It is a long story, Stephen. Best for another time.”

“And,” Wanda continues, “you were coming over here just to sit and have hot chocolate with me, even when I expressly did not want you here, so I wasn’t just jumping in out of the blue after over a year of no contact—”

Stephen rubs his forehead with one hand. “I was a little busy—”

“Too busy to see Starlight?” Wendy interjects, her voice soft. Her head tilts to the side, and she offers him a soft smile. “At least Pixie knew to—”

“Who is Pixie?”

Wanda takes a deep breath and places her hands on the table, hands now covered with soft scarlet chaos magic. “The point is, Stephen, that you don’t just get to come in here, interrupt my family, and—”

“Actually,” Stephen interrupts, “I could use your help, too—”

“Mom?”

Tommy interrupts them all, and at his words, the magic immediately fades from Wanda’s hands. She glances down to him and Billy, who have begun to huddle together, shivering. “You’re not…you don’t have to go fight anyone anymore, do you?” His voice is so soft and thin, and she can feel how his thoughts have turned to their version of Westview, to the Wanda they had first known, who had sent them away with Dottie while she and Peggy unsuccessfully fought an Agatha who would succeed.

“No,” Wanda says. She reaches over and pushes his hair back from his face fondly. “No one’s going anywhere, boys. We’re all going to stay right—”

“Actually.” America presses her lips together. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I want to help.” She bites her lower lip and looks up. “My moms…I think they would want me to be a hero, and if there’s something dangerous happening here, something dangerous that could hurt the multiverse, then we can’t…. I don’t think it would be right to sit here and do nothing about it when I can do something about it. Especially now that I can…that I can control my power.” She glances over to Stephen. “You have no idea.”

Stephen gives her a quiet nod and then turns to Wanda. “I’m sure someone can look after your—”

“No, Stephen.” Wanda shoots him a strong look. “I’m not leaving my boys. Scarlet Witch or not, I’m staying right. here.”

Wendy clears her throat. “If Starlight is going, then I’m going with her,” she says, and when America turns to her, she meets her eyes. “We come together or not at all.”

“Yeah,” America echoes, giving Wendy a soft smile. “Together or not at all.”

Stephen looks at Wendy. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Wendy.” She gives him her most toothiest grin, more like baring her teeth than any real pleasure. “You remind me an awful lot of my Pixie.”

“I don’t know who that is.” Stephen gives her a look and crosses his arms. “Show me what you can do, kid.”

Wendy just grins. “Try to say that again.”

Stephen makes a startled noise, but he makes no words. In a move much more reminiscent of Wanda herself, Wendy has taken Stephen’s mouth.

Wanda gives Wendy a little smile and then settles back into her chair. “Wendy here is another Scarlet Witch. She comes to us from Neverland, and she’s quite powerful. Perhaps even more powerful than me.”

“No, I’m not.” Wendy shakes her head. “I’m just better at making people.”

“Touche.”

Stephen struggles again, and Wanda lifts a hand, giving him his mouth back. “If you want a Scarlet Witch, Wendy is your best option. She’s quite capable.” She glances over to Wendy and America again. “I won’t stand in your way if you want to go, girls. I know that you’ll take care of yourselves, and I expect that you’ll come right back when you’re done.”

America grumbles. “Yes, Mother.”

It’s a moment.

Wanda hears it, and her eyes widen, and America glances up to her with a little look that says she knows exactly what that means, and she doesn’t take it back. The words make Wanda pause, stutter, splutter, and then she swallows past that. “Stephen,” she turns to him, “if anything happens to my girls, I will find you, and I will kill you. Do you understand me?”

“Right, right, fair.” Stephen glances over to the girls. “Do well enough, and you might be made Avengers.”

“I think they are a bit young for that title.” Wong stands, brushes his knees as though to brush crumbs away from them, and then begins to move away from the table. “Kamar-Taj is empty, and I must be getting back. The three of you are coming with me, aren’t you?”

Stephen nods, and America only hesitates once before she nods, too.

Before they go, America wraps her arms around Wanda and holds her close. “I’ll be back,” she says. “Real soon.”

Wanda hesitates, just as she always did, and then wraps her arms around America, too. “Don’t be gone too long,” she mutters. “I’ll be staying up, worrying about you.”

“You’re such a mom,” America says as she pulls away. She sticks her tongue out at her. “I’ll be fine. Wendy’s not going to let anything happen to me again.” She winces. “Actually, I don’t want to see what she’ll do if something happens to me. I don’t think it would be really good.”

“Then don’t let anything happen to you.” Wanda cups America’s face and then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Be safe.”

America nods. “I will.”

Then they, too, are gone.

The thing of it is that Wanda’s house is never quiet for long.

Her boys are there, of course, and they are a wonderful, blessed constant.

Agatha pops in every now and again, usually staying for a long stint before leaving again, unable to satisfy her own wanderlust otherwise.

And America and Wendy use the house as their home base, a place they can return to and relax in-between missions or whenever they desperately need the time off.

None of them are ever really gone, not for too long, and they always come back.

They’re family now, and neither time nor distance will ever change that.

#bandit fic #finding family with wanda and america #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #america chavez #agatha harkness #wong #mcu wong #wong mcu #stephen strange #mcu #it is DONE #COMPLETE #DONE!

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renticat · 6 months

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Yudhistira

okay it's scary and not like me at all when I put names on my post but mostly it's all just common names and ofc I would not put the whole name on it ffs, I am not that horrible.

But Yudhistira is one of 5 pandhawa that is famous in mahabaratha. Okay he has many names, I guess is werkudara the other names. But Yudhistira is also my 2nd grade crush looong back then JAJAJA and today is his birthday (see I remember the date if you're ever been an important person in my life). I just realized many of my crush were april baby like me. I guess it's just like mostly we're weird and it's easy to having fun together (well, don't believe that horoscope shit but still). April people are just silly and fun to be with but they're also dead serious and honest. Yeah I love my april gang

I want to upload videos on my telegram but then they only let me put so little (yeah because why? Because then I know that somebody seeing it even when I don't know whom as I don't really check it but still here thought no one bother to read; and that's why Instagram is popular because people aren't whiny bitch like me also they're don't have anything much to say and I like tumblr because it's more like blog, I can write about any shit I want) even when no one really cares.

Today is beautiful day.

But I haven't sleep a wink because my mind is disturbed. You know actually I don't have to go to other neighborhood to enjoy this view back then, but in my home the forest and the orange garden were being burned down because they're making more and more homes. See too many people and they think ofc it's okay to just kill all the trees cause we're importanter than the 🌳🌴🌴🌳🌲 (grammar error i know i just want to state the silliness of human think they're centre of this universe). And those garden and field were my sanctuary. I kid you not, you know my home isn't always peaceful. It's the opposite of warmth.

More it's just too much drama and I just went there to the field and laid down gazing at the sky. It calms me down. Also gosh I should be screenwriter and making tons of money because when I was sitting alone, I escape my horrible life by creating story of me but in fictional characters when she doesn't get this too much shitty life everyday. And someone said you created something that isn't there, ofc if I wasn't I would probably really end my life when I was just elementary school (that most kids didn't even know what depression is, I already battling with anxiety everyday). The difference I still had hope back then. Ren, is my imaginary best friend, he doesn't have name back then, he's my alter ego that's nurture me but I never talk to him when I was 13 because I was brainwashed that talking too much with yourself is just satan talking to you, so yeah.

When I don't have ren by my side I swear back then I can see those undead. I mean ghost. I guess is just me being so lonely but I swear it was like real and that's what makes me closer to that deadbeat crush of mine cause he can talk to them. I don't believe in hell and heaven now but if it's true, I guess is only hell cause I've never seen any angel. Cause you're disgusting horney teenager. Gosh I thought angel supposed to understand that kissing isn't that big of matter lol lol. Picturing myself kissing all my crush, and some of it becomes reality turns out I fucking despise it.

Love only soft, fuzzy and warm inside my head. In reality they're cruel, harsh and unapologetic. They're selfish, greedy and liar. Okay sometimes is sweet but most of the time I had to deal with the bad part and gosh I think I am better off alone. But then my parents only raise me so I became a good depending wife and I am fucked because I am good but not good enough as I demand love to be put in action and just speak honest thing with me. It's too much too ask, thought it was the bare minimum for every relationship to work out.

I am terrified that nothing will ever works. That I am gonna chasing after something that doesn't exist like sky daddy. I am tired. I am fucking tired. Okay should stop swearing but i love it. It's just like american movies haha. I need to rest my head in somebody else's lap but there's none. Even when there is, it's just temporary satisfy feeling and I am gonna be twice sad because all I want is someone that is always gonna be there for me no matter what as I am gonna be that kind of person too.

gosh tumblr always lagging if I tried to upload video and ugh I had to rewrite the last part as I always. Why don't they fix this bugs.

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bleedingichorhearts · 7 months

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𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: What happened to our guardians? I forgot it was Valentine’s Day. Happy Valentine’s Day!

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Little Space Marine's: Adeptus Astarte's showing up randomly within your home and in Sharons' hands too.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams

TW // Curse.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Chapter II}

“Another one?” You deadpan at your ditsy roommate, looking down at her dainty hands that held a little Death Guard in them. His little green body slowly twisting around and observing the area around him all confused-like.

“I don’t know where I keep finding them!” She huffs, not really sounding… thrilled. Her hazel eyes narrowing and looking down at the poor smelly Marine in disgust as her nose scrunches up. Definitely getting a whiff of the stinky aroma the little guy gave off.

You mentally sigh and think she at least has some humanity to pick one up and take it to a safer place. Most people wouldn’t even do that nowadays, even for a sickly kitten. They usually just walk past them like they were a scammer of sorts or a homeless person. Not caring for a life that could use a little uplift in their day, even if it wasn’t much. One could provide a smile or a simple wash and meal.

“Anyways, I have got a club date to go to, mind taking it?” She suddenly pushed the little Death Guard towards you, not caring if he would have dropped from her hands as she passed him to you. Your hands just barely having enough time to scramble to unfold from your chest and catch the little thing. His tiny form rolling into your hands with a little whirr.

“Wha- since when? I thought you had work tonight?” You questioned her, watching the little Death Guard closely in your hands while you helped him stand up straight in the palm of your hands. Your other fingers providing as a way to stabilize him. Another small whirr leaving him when he grasps the tip of your finger and pulls himself up.

“Uhhhh, an hour ago! I did, but my boss let me off again!” She shouted from the hallway, shuffling through something. Sounding like she was rummaging through a box of toys before it stopped for a second. Then, two clicks came through the hallway, a click of a pair of heels you recognize.

You open your mouth to try and catch the woman again, but it’s fruitless as you hear the front door open. The click of her heels making their leave from the hardwood floors and out to the concrete of the sidewalk before the door suddenly slams shut, making you jump at the unnecessary loud sound. The force of the door shutting shaking the whole apartment as some things on a shelf jingle. Your head shaking side to side while your eyes look down to observe the little Death Guard in the palm of your hands some more.

This little guy looked fairly normal for a Death Guard. He had the basic dirt green, and concrete color of his armor. Two sets of bull-like horns on his helmet, a pair facing downward and random curved spikes on his pauldrons. No extra mouth, horns, or spikes so far. No wounds either, some that’s good. He wasn’t horribly mutated, not that was a problem. Mutated Marines can look utterly adorable and very skillful too, but there is almost always a side effect with them. Do you know of any? No, you’ve just made some observations, and heard rumors that were going around.

“You seem rather healthy.” You mumble, mostly talking to yourself. Gaining another tiny sound from the stinky little guy, his helmet looking up at you. No doubt observing you as well as he tilts his head from side to side.

This… ‘mini’ situation had you puzzled. You never would have thought you would see the Astartes that were usually so big be the size of like… a fairy? It was very unusual; unnatural possibly, confusing mostly as it takes a moment to register that a very small Marine could be possible. Plus, most have seen the Space Marines to be the protector, the guardian type and all strong and huffy. Not the… complete opposite.

It even had the Apothecary astonished, when you took the other three you’ve managed to find as well there. The doctor says they have never seen such a phenomenon. Their eyes blown wide while the Astartes Apothecary looks rather curious down at them as well. Wondering to himself what might have happened. If a Thousand Son or Word Bearer has been messing around when they weren’t supposed to. Yet, the both human doctor and Space Marine Apothecary couldn’t help their curiosities and ran all sorts of tests on the little guys. That admittedly, had you a little worried for them.

I mean, those tests lasted what? Three days? You have the right to worry about it. You wouldn’t just hand over 4 small marines to someone so easily unless you went to a trusted doctor (which you did.) Though, you can’t help the anxious thoughts that pop up into your mind about them. What if the Apothecary accidentally killed them with those big ass needles in the back? What if they really weren’t an Apothecary?

The stressful thoughts makes you groan and think of why you were worried about them in the first place. They weren’t yours, and as far as you know you're not even ‘bonded’ either. So, what has you worried about them? You know you could just leave them in their care. Well… until they called you back in.

You weren’t expecting it, but you came in when you can, and as requested and listened to a proposal they wanted to give you. Your head nodding occasionally has you listen to their requirements which were just simple enough. You just have to take care of them for the time being until they find a solution to this situation. One of their reasons being they don’t know who their warband is and/or if they even have a warband, and two. You were the first person they ever saw, and simply picked up the miniature Astartes. Caring for them for a little while until you made the trip to them. Which means they were more likely to trust you better than anyone else.

Now, this is how you find yourself stuck with a raging World Eater, a shy-leader-looking Thousand Son, rambunctious Night Lord and the newly added addition: a rumbly and stinky Death Guard that Sharon found out of nowhere. It honestly seems like your apartment is a hot spot for mini Marines to just magically appear at this point.

Hearing multiple tiny squeaks calling out to you. Your gaze flickers down to your kitchen countertop nearby: an L-shaped island with three little Marines wanting your attention. Wanting to know who was the new unfortunate soul that has become like them that stands in the palm of your hands.

“Well little Death Guard.” You sigh, slowly bringing your hand forward and down towards the counter top to introduce the new Marine to the curious group. The back of your hand laying flat against the cold counter top to let the Death Guard hop off your plan with ease. “You’re going to be stuck with me for the time being. Just as these other Astartes have.”

You carefully watch as the Death Guard hops off your hand. The Night Lord immediately chirping at him in question, and receiving a tiny, but deep rumble from the Death Guard in response before they all start to chirp and whirr at him. Curious of this new incomer, seeing if he is to be trusted so far.

They didn’t seem to be disapproving of the Death Guard more… being more relatable? Their bodies weren’t crouched, defensive or tense. They chipped and warbled smoothly and fairly to one another, and there was no miniature weapons drawn. It’s was just a regular greeting, and a far better one too than what the Night Lord and World Eater had. The Night Lord just had to pick his luck with the teasing the World Eater at first glance.

The only reason that you knew of this is because the Thousand son had patiently told you with gestures and tiny chatters you couldn’t understand, but you finally got it eventually and made sure to take a note to keep an eye on the two far better than what you had planned to do. Plus, it didn’t help the little World Eater still had his “Butcher's Nails” in him. The Apothecary and doctors mention such a thing for your safety and the safety of the mini Marines because those… nails were rage inducing?

Anyways, they said they couldn’t remove them because he was simply too small for such a procedure to happen. So from time to time, the poor World Eater goes into a fit of rage. Tearing up everything in his path, anything he can get his sights on, and this includes going after other Astartes. You literally had to step in for the times he gets enraged. Slowly snatching him up from whatever surface you can find him. His tiny, squirming form struggling in your hold, desperately stabbing, hitting and pounding onto your gloves that you were smart enough to put on.

When his raged energy has finally cooled down enough however, you felt bad that you restricted him in such a way that might have felt very prisoning for him. That you might have gotten on his bad side when you were really trying not to, you just didn’t want to see tiny droplets of blood staining your ground. So you always tried to comfort and apologize to the little World Eater afterwards. Hoping that he would accept what you had done to keep him and the other safe from his flames. Putting him up to your collarbone in a mock of a hug for more forgiveness points as well.

Surprisingly, that spot on your collarbone was one of the group's favorite spots to just sit there and hang there. Cooing and teasing one another from the height advantage it gives them. Sometimes their little bodies even just managing to sleep on you there, probably liking the warmth it gives them.

“Need something?” You suddenly ask the group, catching the tropical turquoise blue of the Thousands Som gauntlet pointing up at you. A small chittering coming out of the group as it took you a moment to grasp what they wanted. Their gestures a little bit hard to read when they were doing it all together; it almost looks like they were panicking, but you eventually got what they wanted, and raised an eyebrow at them.

“You? Want a bath?” You asked the Death Guard in a low disbelieving tone. Knowing that Death Guards were known for not having the best hygiene because they were like cats in a way, perhaps skunks for a better accuracy of how well they like to stay… stinky. You have read the whole book on it because the Apothecary gave you a whole encyclopedia to unfortunately study about the care of and Astartes. Some of it doctorate level too.

The death Guard pauses for a second, rethinking his options before he hesitantly nodded. Clearly not really into the idea, but for some reason he wants to have one either way. His helmet giving you a second nod.

“If that’s what you want.” You told him with a shrug, moving away from the counter and going to a cabinet to grab a small, plastic container. The group just casually chatting away as you got the ‘bath’ prepared for the Death Guard. Probably trying to tell him why it was such a good idea to clean himself.

Going towards the sink with the container in hand. You turn the faucet on, and leave your hand under the water for a second. Waiting for it to warm up before putting the container underneath it with a little dab of dish soap to make it all bubbly. Once you have filled up the container, you bring it back over to the island and place it softly down on the counter top near the group of the mini Marines. Briefly thinking this just might be one of the best baths this Death Guard was going to get after a great while. Might as well make it count.

The whole miniature group looks at the container full of soapy water. Their forms slowly starting to surround it curiously like they have never seen a bath before in their lifetime. Chirping quietly at one another like the container would jump at them too before the Death Guard touches the container before quickly pulling away like it burned him.

“You don’t have to take a bath.” You state to the Death Guard, knowing he won’t necessarily like it at first. You hand then gesturing towards the Night Lord. “Instead, I’ll just throw him in it.”

The Night Lord hisses at you in response and slowly backs off from the container full of bubbly water. The red visor of his helmet watching it intensely like it had done something to him. Slowly shaking his helmet ‘no.’ No he doesn’t want to be given a bath.

The little Death Guard just peeped at you however, and braces himself before vaulting over the edge of the container and jumping into the warm, bubble water with a tiny splash. Some of it spilling over and onto the counter top as the Night Lord hisses again and shakes his helmet. Not liking how it spreads.

Carefully watching the container. My eyes scan the surface of the water for any more movement, looking for the Death Guard to just pop back up and absolutely bolt, but is faintly surprised when he just pops back up and doesn’t bolt. Another peep leaving him as his armor is absolutely covered in bubbles while more chirps come from the rest of the group, talking to him, possibly encouraging him or teaching him how to bathe himself correctly?

Well, either way, it was all going well. No one needed to go to the Apothecary tonight, or in the morning. That is until the Night Lord pushed the World Eater into the container. A thick plop sounding out as his crimson armor was absolutely covered by the white of the bubbles engulfing him. A laughing Night Lord hanging off to the side as he pauldrons rise up and down.

The World Eater slowly rises from bubbles however, heaving as more bubbles stick to him more than what the Death Guard has. His helmet snapping in the direction of the laughing Night Lord and doesn’t hesitate to shout threats at the Night Lord who still looked so proud of himself that he had managed to push the World Eater in. Perhaps too proud?

Oh, who can resist such an opportunity?

On the act of vengeance, you snuck your hand behind the dark blue space marine, and pushed the Night Lord into the container yourself. A surprised squeak coming from him as he plopped face first, right into the soapy water. Small chitters immediately interrupting from the group with the Thousand Sons just shaking his head on the side lines.

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #adeptus astartes #adeptus astartes x reader #space marines #space marine x reader #fanfiction #second person pov #reader insert #space marine #death guard #night lord #thousand sons #world eater

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ophelia-jones · 8 months

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Excerpt from my Negan fiction over on AO3 "Fallen Angels"

18+

Explicit M/F unprotected sex, mentions of past SA.

Just as they had the night Rory told Negan the full truth about her relationship to Casey and Liam, Negan and Rory found themselves on the mattress in front of the wood stove. They each lay stretched out on their sides, Negan with his head propped up on one elbow and Rory laying on her arm, gazing up at Negan. Her heart seemed to keep starting and stopping randomly as she let herself look at him without fear of him noticing. She hadn't wanted him to know. She hadn't been ready for him to know how attracted she was to him. To that rakish smile and those 'fuck me' eyes.

Negan smiled down at her, basking in the glow of her admiration. It felt damn good to him. Good enough to keep the dark feelings that today had awakened at bay. For a little while, at least.

He told her an abridged version of what had occurred, though he downplayed the way it still came easily to him to hurt those men. All he had to do was remind himself that they stood in the way of him getting Rory and the kids out of this situation and away from here.

"He seems to have a weird thing about getting his hands dirty. Even what he wanted me to do to 'earn' the weapons he said I didn't need, he never touched me," she told him. The look of confusion on Negan's face made it clear he could not imagine what he had made her do if he did not touch her.

"He made me kneel in front of him while he took care of himself. He said degrading, horrible things about me, and told me things no one but Joshua could have known. He couldn't get off until I was crying; he didn't want my body. He wanted my pain," she explained. "He wanted my shame. He wanted me to walk out of there with his ..." she paused and seemed to gag on the words. "He wanted me to have to walk out of there with his cum in my hair and on my face."

"Twisted fucker," Negan said. His voice was a soft murmuration, perhaps just something he had thought loud enough for her to hear. Negan's face was one of obvious disgust and barely controlled rage. It had been bad when he thought the man had asked her to have sex with him. He had been sick to his stomach thinking that he had taken advantage of her vulnerability that way, but this was just cruelty for cruelty's sake. "The more I learn about that son of a bitch, the worse he gets." He reached out to touch her but paused, withdrawing his hand. He didn't want to be like the others who had touched her so selfishly. She deserved better.

Rory seemed to understand what he was thinking, and she reached out to take his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers.

"If it's hard for you to still be attracted to me after knowing everything, I can understand," she said. She was testing the waters because she wanted to know now if that was the case. Finding out later would be too hard. Because she hadn't felt this way in so long, and she knew that if she let herself get swept away, it would be hard to keep her head above water. Negan was the sort of man who could claim her body, mind, and soul.

Maybe, she realized, he already had. He was what she thought about most of the time these days. The kids, too, of course - but even thoughts of them led back to him. The way he was with them. How much it helped set her at ease to know he was there with them, watching over them. For the first time in over a decade, she trusted a man. It was terrifying, but it also felt so damn good.

"Rory, you are SOMEthing! Holy shit, girl. Do you really fucking believe something someone else did to you could make you any less fucking hot? Because, knowing you have come THROUGH the fucking fire and out the other side still standing is SEXY AS FUCK. You're a fucking goddess," he said. His thumb stroked hers as he continued holding her hand.

"Then why haven't you kissed me again?" She asked coyly. Her smile was brighter than he had ever seen it before. She shined brighter than any star he's ever seen.

"I was just waiting for you to ask," he replied with that slow, sexy smile that made her thighs sweat. Negan leaned in, his lips barely touching hers. She could feel him smirking still, so pleased with the way things were going. His breath on her lips made her shiver.

He hummed a note of appreciation for the way she angled her face toward his, the way he could feel the anticipation radiate from her.

"Are you holding your breath?" He asked with that smirk still in place. As he spoke, the whiskers of his beard tickled her skin. Rory let out the breath that she had, in fact, been holding. She chuckled shyly.

"I'm not sure I remember what to do," she said as Negan angled himself above her, guiding her to lay back with her head against her pillow. He brushed his mouth over hers again, his hot, wet tongue dipping in between her lips quickly and then retreating. He rested his hand on her side, just above the curve of her hip and felt her jump slightly.

Negan leaned up to look into her eyes.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" He asked with genuine concern.

"It's going to sound stupid," she told him, biting her lower lip.

"Try me," he replied.

"It's been the better part of a decade. I feel like..." she started.

Negan, leaning in and kissing the curve of her neck, smiled against her skin.

"Like a virgin?" He asked playfully.

Rory giggled.

"God, that's corny!" She said. "But, yeah, kind of."

Negan sighed and leaned up to look down into her eyes. He stroked her long hair.

"You want to stop?" He asked earnestly.

"God no!" She laughed. Negan chuckled, relieved at her response.

"Me either," he said with a somewhat crooked smile. He started kissing her neck again, his hot, soft mouth against her pulse and his beard scratching against the over-stimulated skin. Heat spread slowly out from his kisses, followed by a shower of sparks throughout her body. His hand slid up along the soft skin of her side, under the layered shirts she wore to stay warm in the cold building. She didn't see the point in wasting firewood for just herself, so she usually kept it just warm enough to keep her alive.

She wasn't having trouble staying warm now, though. Partly because Negan had added firewood and stoked the flames before they lay down to visit like teenagers with their first crush. Mostly because of the way his touch made her burn with desire.

"Like a virgin..." Negan murmured, singing playfully between kisses. "Your love thawed out what was scared and cold, like a virgin..." she felt him smile as he kissed along her jawline and caught her earlobe between his teeth, his breath in her ear making her gasp lightly amidst her giggles. This was what he had brought back into her life. How long had it been since she was happy? Since she had laughed and felt anything but guilt, fear, and dread?

Negan had dropped into her life out of the blue with that smile of his and that unstoppable, audacious sense of humor. With his unbreakable spirit. He had taken so much of the weight off of her shoulders. She had thought that she was saving him, but the truth of it was that he had saved her. He'd brought her back from the edge of forgetting what it was to be human. Rory surrendered completely to this feeling, headfirst and without reservation.

Negan's long fingered hand covered her breast, and she tensed, arching her back and pressing it into his touch. His thumb brushed over her taut nipple and he sat up to look down at her, bemused.

"What the shit do we have HERE?" He asked, one eyebrow lifted playfully. Rory laughed and licked her lower lip.

"I was a bit edgy, in my old life," she said as negan touched her pierced nipple again, this time catching the stainless steel hoop between two fingers and giving it a little tug. It might as well have been a direct line to her pussy because the sensation lit up her nipple and sent the arousal shooting through her belly to make her ache. Her clit was already swelling and her panties grew damp.

"Are they both...?" He asked excitedly. Rory sat up and helped him as he eagerly removed her shirts and made quick work of shedding her simple bra.

"HOLY shit, girl, you were a very Very naughty girl, weren't you?" He murmured in his way of speaking out of one side of that rougish smirk. His eyes were locked on her small, firm breasts with the silver hoops through each hardened nipple. He was breathing heavier as his eyes washed over her. He'd glimpsed her tattoos twice now but hadn't gotten to really look at them.

He took both breasts in his hands and kneaded them lastly before lowering himself to claim the first one, then the other with that beautiful mouth of his. His tongue traced circles around her, aching nipples and then flicked her piercings.

"Oh, fuck!" Rory exclaimed. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her hands grasped at his hair. He was taking her quickly from warm to boiling.

Negan lavished her breasts with this attention until she had tears in her eyes from the overstumulation and the longing in her swollen cunt. She desperately wanted to feel those long, strong fingers inside of her.

She managed to gain control of her thoughts and tugged at the hem of his shirt, her hands finding the hot skin of his back as she wrestled the fabric up under his arms. He sat up and quickly shed the clothing that had been keeping their skin from touching. She smiled brightly as she looked up at him, slender and wiry, his own faded tattoos blue with age. She slid her hands eagerly over his chest, pressing the pads of her fingers against his alert nipples and making him growl from his chest.

He stretched out, his weight on top of her and the bare skin of their chests pressed together. It was more intimate than Rory had dared hope it could be. Negan interlaced those fingers of his with her own and held her hands above her head, pinned to the mattress. He kissed her until the world spun around them and faded, narrowing to exist of nothing more than the feeling of his tongue against hers, his lips soft and firm. They were not demanding, but they were greedy. As if he could not get enough of her mouth.

They both grew breathless quickly as Negan settled between her legs and pressed his rock hard, throbbing cock against her core and began to grind against her. The seam of her jeans against her clit made her gasp and moan.

"Oh, god... Negan, please!" She moaned. He pushed himself up to look down at her and smirk.

"Please, what?" He asked softly. His playful smile told her how much he wanted to hear it from her.

"Please, let's get rid of these pants," she told him breathlessly. He grinned and released her hands, rolling to the side and unzipping his pants eagerly. She watched him slide them down over his long legs, tracing the curve of his ass with one finger. When he stretched his legs back out and turned onto his side, she saw that his confidence and eagerness to show off what he had for her was not misplaced.

She moaned as she reached out to grasp the hefty shift, her thumb stroking the soft tip, and Negan let his eyes drift shut, and his head fell back. His lips parted, and a rumble rose from his throat.

"God damn you got the touch," he told her, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he reveled in her touch. The corners of his mouth drew back, and his hips began to rock against her hand. He shook his head to bring him back into control of the situation. He gently removed her hand and grasped the waistband of her jeans as she unzipped them. He tugged at them roughly, dragging her six inches down the mattress on her back. She exploded with laughter, and Negan chuckled throatily at his own eagerness.

He loved a woman who could laugh while fucking. It was fun, after all, or at least it should be.

As soon as he had her pants off, he slid an arm under each thigh and hooked them, pulling them up and opening them wide. He grinned at her devilishly and dove in, covering her with his mouth. His tongue lapped over her, tasting her arousal he hummed in approval as she called out wordlessly. She was already there, she realized.

It used to take so long to bring her all the way to a climax. Not many partners had ever had the patience. But Negan didn't need to be patient, because as he began flicking his tongue lightly over her throbbing clit she came in ferocious waves.

"Oh fucking Jesus, Negan! Ah ah ah oh FUUUCK!" She screamed, her hands in his hair and her head thrashing violently from side to side. Laughing, his eyes sparkling with pride and amusement, Negan slid up along her naked, sweating body and pinned one of her hands above her again. He claimed her mouth with a violent, nearly painful kiss as his other hand guided the broad head of his engorged cock into her.

"Ready, sweetheart?" He murmured against her mouth.

"Yes, oh God, yes," she breathed, lifting her hips and spreading herself open for him eagerly. He smiled into their kiss and began to press in. She felt herself spreading immediately to her limits, a sharp sensation warning her to relax and slow down.

"Fuck, wait... just.."

"I can feel it. Damn, sugar, you're tighter than a goat's ass," her groaned almost painfully. She laughed lightly at his usual way with words, and as she breathed, she angled herself up and slid over him easier. He moaned.and.lick him, looking down at her adoring. He took her other hand in his and pinned it alongside the other as they began to rock slowly, and he slid deeper and deeper with each motion until she was so full of him she could feel him bulging in her lower belly. She wrapped her legs around him and squeezed with her cunt enjoying every inch of his silken rod.

"God DAMN, you're gonna kill me..." He told her, still smiling. He closed his eyes and moaned before he began to slide out and then back into fill her again and again, faster and faster - almost violently, until his face was flushed and the veins in his neck bulged. The noises they made were blasphemous echoes ringing through the church as she felt the tension build and break around him again.

"Good girl!" He murmured against her ear, and she swore his words alone kept her coming for longer than humanly possible. She was dizzy and disoriented, and though he was still pounding into her raw, sensitive pussy it still felt so good she couldn't get enough. She wrestled her hands free and grasped his ass, digging her fingernails in and making him cry out. He buried his face in her hair, his elbows digging into the mattress on either side of her head and continued to pound into her until she quivered weakly in a sort of constant orgasm.

She dug her fingernails in even deeper.

"Give it to me, Negan. Give me all of it," she breathed in his ear, and she had barely spoken the words when he roared with his release, buried deep and throbbing for several long heartbeats.

"Oh my GOD," he declared with a brilliant smile as he pushed himself back up to look down at her. He stroked her hair out of her face. "Wow," he breathed before kissing her tenderly. He lingered there, his lips on hers until their hearts began to beat more slowly, and their breathing became less frantic.

"Yeah," Rory agreed happily. "You have potential."

Negan guffawed at her and rested his forehead to hers as they laughed contentedly.

#negan smut #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan

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midnightkens · 9 months

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loneliness won't leave me alone

Summary: At one point in time, Barbie was Gloria's only trusted companion. A glimpse into Gloria's relationship with Barbie before the events of the movie.

Trigger Warnings: Sexual assault, rape, depression, anxiety, PTSD, eating disorders, toxic sibling dynamics, suicidal thoughts

She’s thirty-five years old and clutching the doll so tightly it hurts. Day to Night Barbie’s plastic hands dig into her flesh, the sensation grounding her slowly back into the present. Gloria dimly registers Tony’s presence next to her, speaking comforting words, but not daring to touch her. Her chest aches and she hunches over with the force of her sobs, the doll’s hands digging further into her skin.

“It’s okay, darling,” Tony says softly. “It’s all over. You’re safe.”

But that’s not true, is it? She’s not safe, and it’ll never be over.

“You’re getting way too old for those things.”

Gloria looks up at her seventeen-year-old sister and frowns. Lucia doesn’t even notice. The older girl’s back is turned to her, focusing on the mirror where she’s trying to perfect her eyeshadow. “What do you mean?”

Lucia scoffs. “You know exactly what I mean.” She swivels around and gestures at the doll in Gloria’s hand. Gloria squirms under her sister’s judgmental gaze. “Barbies are for kids, Gloria. You’re thirteen, not seven.”

“Who cares?” Gloria tries her best to keep her voice dismissive and unattached, but her flushed face gives her embarrassment away. None of her friends play with Barbies anymore. The girls grew out of them years ago, some of them giving away their vast collections altogether. They don’t understand. Barbie can be anything. Gloria’s shy and introverted, but Barbie lets her be loud, creative, silly, and fun. Barbie doesn’t judge her, doesn’t make fun of her drawings or the way she speaks and dresses. Barbie lets her be free, and if Barbie and be anything, maybe she can be something someday.

Lucia shakes her head and turns back to the mirror, scrutinizing her look one last time before going out for the night. “Whatever. You’re hopeless.”

Gloria watches her sister leave and rolls her eyes. She never liked playing dolls with Lucia anyway.

***

Two months later, everything changes.

The air feels cool on her skin. She’s been in Seattle for four days, and Gloria thinks she’s already seen more rain than she has in her entire life in Los Angeles. The smell of tamales wafts through the cracked window, and Gloria leans back on the porch swing, sighing in contentment. It’s Christmas Eve, and most of Dad’s side of the family has gathered at his sister’s new house to celebrate. For once, Lucia isn’t bothering her, her cousins are here, and Mom said that it might snow. A Barbie remains tucked into a secret pocket of her luggage, but Gloria hasn’t taken her out at all.

Three nights after Christmas, she lies awake, clutching Barbie like a lifeline. The darkness penetrates her very core, but she can’t bring herself to turn on the light. She’d thought her cousin’s new boyfriend, Brandon, was nice when they’d met. A bit too loud for her tastes, but nice, and he doted on Emily.

If only Emily knew what Gloria knew. Her stomach lurches as she remembers the door opening, a weight on her bed, and Brandon all over her, taking what never belonged to him. And what had she done? Nothing. No screaming or crying. She’d been frozen in fear, too scared to move. He whispered viled things to her, how he’d wanted her since the moment he saw her and how pretty she was and -

The dam breaks at last, and Gloria begins to sob in earnest.

She resolves to keep this under lock and key.

No one would believe her anyway.

***

Far too much can change in a year.

Gloria stares at herself in the mirror. Most of the time she doesn’t even recognize herself. She’s pale with horrible dark circles under her eyes. Her family says she’s too thin, but she doesn’t see it. All she sees in front of her is a disgusting, tainted husk, hidden underneath the baggiest clothing she owns.

What’s wrong, Gloria? Why are you always so upset, Gloria? You need to eat more, Gloria.

Her parents’ words sound in her head like a broken record, mixing with his voice and sending her breath quickening in fear. They’ll never understand. If she’s too thin, too grotesque, no one will want to look at her or touch her ever again. She cries at the slightest touch, cries all the time, yet no one bothers to dig deeper. She whispers to Barbie in the dead of night, tells her doll all of her worries and fears, her deepest, darkest secret. It’s so easy to spill secrets to something that can’t talk back. And when she’s done, Gloria stares at the doll, so sad that she thinks her heart might physically break.

Barbie can be anything. President, astronaut, teacher. A good listener when Gloria has no one else. She’s everything. Gloria thought that one day, she could at least be something, but she knows better.

She’s worthless.

She’s nothing.

***

The next five years are rife with screaming matches between her and her parents, broken friendships, therapists, and treatment centers. Words like depression and anxiety and anorexia nervosa keep getting thrown around, labels on top of weirdo, freak, loser. Through it all, Barbie is still the only one she trusts with her secret. Gloria doesn’t play with her dolls anymore. Her creativity, her spark died that night, yet her familiar doll brings her a comfort she can’t explain. Barbie is her only trusted companion, and she isn’t even real.

Gloria gains weight. Her parents leave her alone. She even manages to make and keep a few friends and get an internship at a fashion company. But she still feels adrift, like there’s a fog around her that she just can’t penetrate.

Until she meets Tony.

Gloria typically avoids men. They’re conniving and manipulative, and all they do is steal what was never theirs to have. She’s standoffish and cold at first, trying desperately to mask her terror; it’s worked on every other man that’s ever shown interest in her, but not Tony. He seems to see something in her that no one else does, and she finds herself inexplicably drawn to him in return. Her instincts tell her to run, to starve again so he won’t look at her; instead, she finds herself meeting him for coffee and for a night at the skating rink, desperate to be in his orbit and hold his hand.

Tony is kind. He’s gentle and creative, eager to learn and so very patient.

(Gloria worries that Tony sees how broken she is, but all Tony sees is her.)

***

Gloria knows that she wants to marry Tony when she feels safe enough to tell him her deepest secret.

Her hands and voice tremble with nerves, and she’s crying so hard that she worries Tony won’t understand, but he gathers her into his arms (with her permission, never without her permission), and tells her the only thing she’s wanted to hear since she was fourteen years old.

“I believe you. It wasn’t your fault.”

He doesn’t run away from her. Doesn’t ignore her or leave her. He cradles her like she’s the most precious thing in the world, even as she shakes and sobs and gets snot all over his shirt. Barbie used to be her only trusted companion, but now she has Tony.

Tony. A real, breathing person who knows her better than anyone else. Only in her dreams did she ever dare imagine that she could ever let herself have this. It feels almost too good to be true.

***

She lands a job at Mattel. Being the CEO’s executive assistant isn’t the most glamorous position in the company, but it’s far better than being in cubicle hell. It’s only temporary, just until Sasha’s a little older and she can put more time into Barbie and fashion again. She fills notebooks cover to cover with ideas desperate to get out, but with hardly anyone to show. She’s always been a nobody, and now she’s just a nameless face in yet another crowd, desperate to somehow stand out. Still, she’s eager to go to work, to get to even be in the building where Barbie happens. At one time, Barbie was her only friend, the only one she trusted. Barbie saved her. Getting to design Barbies would be a full-circle experience, the fulfillment of a lifelong love and dream, and that thought is the only thing that gets her through endless, pointless meetings with her idiot of a boss.

It’s temporary. It’s temporary. It’s temporary.

***

Gloria introduces Barbie to Sasha, and for the first time, she loves playing with someone. Maybe it’s different because Sasha’s her daughter, but some quiet part of her acknowledges that it’s like introducing her daughter to an old friend. They spend hours playing together, coming up with stories and having tea parties and laughing until their sides hurt. She never knew that love like this was possible. They create a secret handshake, something just for the two of them, and Gloria thought she’d only ever know a peace like this in her wildest dreams. Her mind is calm. She has an amazing daughter, a loving husband, great friends, a decent job. She’s a far cry from the teenager who cried to her doll about how scared and lonely she was.

Gloria doesn’t need Barbie the way that she used to, and she hopes Sasha never does. Now she can just play with Barbie, use the dolls to connect with her daughter.

It’s freeing.

***

She’s tired.

Months turned into years. Sasha’s almost thirteen, and Gloria’s still stuck in the same, boring job, nowhere closer to designing for Barbie than she was ten years ago. Her relationship with Sasha is crumbling no matter how hard she tries to fix it, no one notices her drawings. Above all is her secret, the one only Tony and Barbie know to this day. Gloria thought she’d fixed it. She’s married to the love of her life, has a gorgeous house in a nice neighborhood, and compared to others her job isn’t that bad. Compared to stories she reads online, her relationship with Sasha isn’t that bad, either. But that familiar sadness grows inside of her, the fog returning for the first time in years. The nightmares and panic attacks are almost nightly, and she resolutely refuses to think about the almost-daily flashbacks.

Why is it coming back now? Gloria doesn’t feel like the strong thirty-nine year old woman she’s become. She feels like she’s thirteen again, lost and scared and so achingly depressed that sometimes she wonders if it would be best if she just…ended it. Went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Sasha would certainly be happier without her, and Tony would be fine. Sasha loves him, and he’s a great father. Do they even need her?

Gloria snatches her familiar Day to Night Barbie from the Goodwill box Sasha carries in her hands. She asks Sasha if she wants to keep just one, and the resounding eye roll hurts, even though she’s used to it by now. She waves goodbye to Sasha and Tony, and heads back in the house, up the stairs into what used to be Sasha’s playroom. She kneels on the floor and sobs, pouring her heart out to her doll in a way she hasn’t in years.

I wish I were dead. I can’t do this anymore. Tony doesn’t need me, Sasha hates me, I don’t talk to my sister anymore, and I’m stuck. I’m stuck and I hate myself and I wish that bastard killed me. Everyone would be happier without me.

Two days later, Gloria hears about Barbie being in the Real World, and her life changes forever once again.

#barbie #the barbie movie #barbie fanfic #barbie and gloria

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haikyuu-boys-headcanons · 4 years

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𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙺𝚈𝚄𝚄 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂 - 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙴𝚇 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂

hehe, i’m back at it again with one of these long ass posts but this idea’s literally been in my head all day long so here you go !! obvious nsfw warning :)

tw: this whole post is just nsfw and embarrassing to read so read at your own risk >:)

𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙸 » during a super intense and loud session, his voice cracked as he asked you “does that feel goOD- good baby?” to this day, he still prays that you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own moans

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙰 » you were riding him and he went to slap your ass, but something went wrong either because you were riding too quickly or he was shaking too much, boy ended up slapping himself in the balls. you’ve never heard that boy scream that loud in your life

𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙷𝙸 » literally pulled out in the middle of sex to get up and rush to the corner of his room to flip around his childhood teddy bears. your just laying there with your tiddies and coochie out waiting for asahi to shield the eyes of mr. wiggles

𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙺𝙰 » you two were having pretty intense shower sex until tanaka did the number one thing your not supposed to do during shower sex; this muthafucker slipped while holding you. long story short, y’all were okay but just ended up having nasty shower floor sex??

𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙰 » this tiny ass 5′2 man was unconsciously humping your leg while you were both asleep?? his presumably pleasurable wet dream had turned into a sudden nightmare when you literally had to KICK him off you to stop the humping. bad nishinoya, bad!

𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰 » came WAYYY too early inside you, but he was too embarrassed to say anything so he just... kept going. sadly, no one had warned kageyama of the intense effects of overstimulation. he was shaking and whimpering so badly behind you to the point where you had to ask him to pull out and bring him a glass of water to calm down

𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 » the first time you squirted on him, he just blatantly asked you these exact few words that left you feeling mortified: “did you just piss on me?” nuh uh hinata, this water fountain ain’t yours to drown in anymore >:(

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » kei was hitting it from the back pretty hard this time, so hard that you were suddenly... on an angle? suddenly, now you two were much closer to the floor than before. the bed ended up collapsing, yes literally collapsing due to kei’s powerful thrusts. worst part is, nobody got to finish since kei dragged you to ikea to grumpily buy a new bedframe. but hey, he bought you ikea meatballs; that shit hits so different

𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙸 » one super duper intense night, he passed out the SECOND he came. no matter how much you flicked the temple of his forehead, yamaguchi was dead asleep. you had to literally slap him awake to get him to clean up, you ain’t risking a ranky stanky UTI puthy in the morning

𝙾𝙸𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » kept calling himself a sex machine during the act. i don’t know if it was due to the 6 tequila shots he had beforehand or just his inner ego revealing, whatever it was it was about to make your pussy close

𝙸𝚆𝙰𝚉𝚄𝙼𝙸 » this one time, he kept going in at a weird angle which caused you to repeatedly queef for 7 minutes straight. every time you told him to pull out and go in properly, he laughed and kept going in at that one weird angle!! was your embarrassment a turn on for him?? maybe!! but were you mortified? absolutely!!

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙽 » i’m sorry to have to be the one to announce this, but this man had the worst case of full blown bush you’ve ever seen. like, he didn’t even try to manscape or anything at all. you ended up begging him to trim just a tiny bit because you weren’t gonna risk choking on a pube whilst your going down on him

𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙺�� » rubbed your left labia thinking it was your clit. and he kept doing that. the whole. fucking. time. even when you subtly moved his fingers towards your clit, he just kept going back to the left lip.

𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙼𝙸 » had the most dry and dull dirty talk you’ve ever heard. like, it’s not even dirty talk at this point; it’s just clean talk. there’s no passion when he talks! he uses the same tone he would use for anyone else at any other moment. to paint the picture, imagine riding kunimi and he’s just there with a furrowed expression like “yup, that feels really good”

𝙺𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙸 » tried to pull one of those unexpected anal scenes that he saw from a porno, without telling you beforehand. life lesson here; if you party at shit's house, don't be surprised if shit's at the party

𝙺𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙾 » you two were looking to get a little more kinky in terms of BDSM, so kuroo watched like 30 tutorials on youtube on how to safely tie you up so you won’t fall or anything. this bitch ended up tying rope knots that were practically impossible to undo, which resulted in you hanging from the ceiling for approximately 2 hours pussy-ass naked while kuroo tried to cut you down with a kitchen knife

𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰 » wanted to spice things up with some dirty talk, like the real nasty talk they use in pornos but not the normal pornos; the shitty company ones with horrific acting. he really ended up announcing that he was going to “fuck your fucking fanny off, you twat”

𝙻𝙴𝚅 » got super excited while he was opening the lube since he hadn’t gotten to fuck you in a WHILE, which resulted the lube leaked everywhere and a giant 6′5 man slipping and hitting his head on the bed frame. worst part is; he had to go to the ER with a hard on that refused to go away

𝙱𝙾𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙾 » speaking of boners that wouldn’t go away, let’s not forget that one time bokuto took two viagras when you texted him to come over for a special occasion. he horribly misinterpreted the ‘special occasion’ text, because he showed up to your house with a huge buldge in his pants as your parents stand before him holding anniversary cards, completely horrified

𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸 » wanted to make valentines day sex as romantic as he could, so he did the classic lighting candles and giving roses. everything was beautiful, until he accidently knocked one of the bigger candles over during missionary. this not only caused a huge ass fire in your bedroom, but he came right as the fire began to spread. boy was debating on whether his orgasm was to die for or not

𝙺𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙷𝙰 » had a nose bleed when he was going down on you and you both were immediately horrified, you thinking it was your period and him thinking he just ate coochie blood. yet as you went to go clean up, you realized his face had much more blood on it than your coochie did. to this day, he still blames it on your period

𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙰 » threw you onto the bed and your head went through the wall. he didn’t even bother to ask you if you were okay, he just sighed and went “well, now i have to make a call to the construction guy. excuse me” and he left you and your concussed ass head sit there once again, pussy ass naked

𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚄 » during a blowjob, he held your head down right as he was coming causing the cum to shoot up your throat and somehow pour out of your nose. by the time he pulled out, he could barely breath from laughing at you. sure, the classic ‘milk shooting out of nose’ thing was funny at first until you got a sinus infection and had to breath out of your mouth for the next three days

𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸 » always insists having sex in the most inconvenient places?? like he would pull you to side while grocery shopping and start grinding up against you as you pick which brand of cheese would be better??

𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙺𝙸 » he kept getting frustrated that his bangs were clouding his field of vision, so he irritably grabbed a hair tie and frantically tied up the sides of his bangs while he was fucking you. you immediately burst out laughing since he looked exactly like boo from monsters inc.

𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » got so drunk that he ended up fucking the couch. like he was just there on top of you, and his dick was just sliding between the folds of the leather couch. you decided to let him finish like that

𝚂𝙰𝙺𝚄𝚂𝙰 » had a really bad reaction to one of the products he used while shaving and ended up getting super irritated down there so he kept having to pull out in-between thrusts to itch his crotch. to make things worse, you joking suggested that he looked like he had syphilis and he got so disgusted at the idea of that thought that he literally had to pull out and take a breather

𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 » drizzled ‘warm’ chocolate down your chest and was about to seductively lick it off until you screamed in pain and horror as the chocolate was literally burning your skin off. osamu panicked, obviously not knowing what to do if chocolate was burning his partners skin off so he just... frantically licked it off. you still had to go to the ER afterwards to get treated for mild burns

𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙼𝚄 » didn’t know what a hymen was until the first time he tried to have sex with you. no matter how much he tried to shove his schlong in, it really just wasn’t working + “yer puss is broken”

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙰 » pinched your nipples so fucking hard to the point where you started crying. he thoughts these were tears of pleasure until you literally had to kick him off you. but hey, he gave you ice for your sore nipples and mcdonalds! what more could a girl possibly want :)

uh the end lol

also, this idea was inspired by the first haikyuu headcanon i ever read, “awkward sex moments” by @bbytetsu <3

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Can we get some more brother!harry?

I really enjoyed your piece where he caught her smoking ❤️

of course you can!! (rip if your name is natalia) hope this is what you wanted;

Natalia.

Beautiful name to juxtapose a horrible excuse of a human being.

Harry was never that great when it came to choosing his girlfriends, but this one was by far the worst. Bekka had been bad, because she had been cheating on Harry with her best friends dad. India was just so toxic, to the point where she’d ask Harry why he wasn’t mad with her over the most trivial things as if she wanted him to be mad. Daya was ok, but she wanted different things to what Harry wanted and so they ended up in a massive argument and ending things quicker than they started. Natalia though, wow. She was something else and that wasn’t a compliment.

You don’t know whether it was just because she targeted you especially, but she was just a downright cruel person. You could easily tell her intentions with your brother were not good. She was a plain ol’ gold digger, evident from the credit card that Harry leant her and she spent so much on it the bank had to call Harry to ask him to authorise that he was aware of the amount of money being spent. She bought a car with his card. A fucking car. Harry was too blinded by her beauty and her experience that he was oblivious to her witchy behaviour towards you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell him either, it was more that he didn’t care enough.

“No Harry. No.” You argued with him, standing in the middle of the kitchen as he was busy washing the rest of the dishes in the sink. It was just the two of you home at the moment, because Gemma and Anne were spending the weekend at an exclusive spa in Cheshire, so you didn’t understand how there were so many dishes.

“Y/N, it’s not an option. You’re not staying at home by yourself.” Harry spoke sternly back to you, letting out his frustration by vigorously scrubbing the dishes.

“I’m literally 17 - 18 in like 3 weeks. I’m more than capable of staying home.” You stomped your foot to the ground like a child.

“And I don’t care. You’re coming to lunch whether you want to or not.” Harry finished the last plate and dries his hands on the towel next to the sink, before throwing it over to you.

“But she’ll be there.”

“She’s my girlfriend, so you’ll nice to her.”

“If she’s nice to me, then yeah.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the sink to start drying the dishes that Harry just cleaned.

“ Y/N, I swear to God.” Harry groaned in frustration, tugging a stressful hand through his hair. “Can you at least pretend to be happy for me for once?”

“Gee Harry, i’m just so happy to be going out to lunch with you and your girlfriend!” You put on the biggest grin as your sarcasm practically dripped from your tongue.

“Stop being a spoilt little shit and finish those dishes. We’re leaving in 20.” Harry spoke harshly, before leaving the room with a heavy strop to his step. It left you to blink back the tears that you couldn’t help that Natalia was ruining your whole relationship with your brother.

You and Harry used to be so tight nit, now it would be a miracle if he spent a day with you per month. Natalia had come along 5 months ago and she had completely turned Harry’s life around for the worst, only Harry was too ignorant to see that. Anne had come home multiple times to find you crying because Harry had cancelled on you, again, or Natalia had said something that had really hurt. Normally you were okay with taking hate, but Natalia made it somehow worse than that. Even if Anne or Gemma tried to talk Harry about the damage all this was causing you it would always be the same response;

“She just wants attention.”

The restaurant was very pretty.

It was one that you and Harry used to go to all the time, when there was no girlfriend around. It sold the best pastries and life-changing eggs on toast. The food was always delicious and the staff were so completely lovely. You were glad to be coming here, making you feel more comfortable than you would if you went to a expensive fancy restaurant instead. This little restaurant, named ‘Lemon Puffs’ after their infamous lemon, cream and pastry puffs, made you feel safe and happy.

“Remember to just be nice.” Harry spoke as you both approached the table that Natalia was already sat at. She was too busy on her phone to realise you were even here.

“If she plays nice then yeah.” You bit back.

“Y/N just stop being petty, y’pissing me off now.” Harry argued. “Whine like a bitch later. I don’t need it today.”

You stopped talking after that, not having anything else to say to him. He’d made it very clear that you were only here because he didn’t trust you at home by yourself, but by the same token wanted you quiet because he didn’t trust you enough to speak nicely. Harry hugged and kissed Natalia like he hadn’t just seen her last night and then sat down opposite to her, leaving you to sit next to Harry because you sure as hell weren’t sitting next to her. Natalia didn’t even make the effort to hug you or shake hands, in fact you barely got a simple hello.

“You alright, baby?” Natalia asked, twirling her hand into Harry’s from across the table. Disgusting.

“Yeah i’m good. This one’s a pain in my arse, as always.” Even with his joking tone, you knew he was being somewhat serious and that really messed with you.

“Typical.” Natalia rolled her eyes and tutted her tongue, not hesitating to use the opportunity to be mean to you. Harry thought she was merely playing along with his words, but you new otherwise.

“You know what you want yet?” Harry asked as he pulled his own attention towards the menu. You didn’t need to look at the menu, as being here so many times has allowed you to discover the perfect order.

“I think i’m just going to get the salad, but without the chicken, cheese or cucumber.” She answered, sipping on the water she must’ve already ordered whilst waiting for you both.

“So just lettuce?” You asked, not meaning for it to be a condescending question and yet she took it that way anyways.

“Is there something wrong with that, Y/N?” She asked, being really harsh in the way she spoke your name - as if the syllables actually caused her pain to speak.

“N-no I was just—”

“Didn’t think so.” She snapped and turned away from you to look back towards Harry, with her shit-eating grin that didn’t fool you. Harry kicked you leg under the table too, not appreciating the way you were speaking to Natalia. He didn’t even think about the way his girlfriend was speaking to you though. As usual.

“I’ll probably get the salad too.” Harry nodded his head and you shook your head as he spoke. Harry would never normally get a salad. Like, that’s so Kardashian of him. Harry, whenever he came here with you, always ordered a cheese and pickle panini, with extra crunchy pickles, a portion of chips and some halloumi fries too. Oh and then a cake for pudding. He wouldn’t have gone for a boring salad. Fucking Natalia was ruining him and you hated to have a front row seat of it.

“Not the usual then?” You tried to joke with him, but he was clearly still pissed off with you for being… you.

“Why, are you?” He asked quizzically.

“Obviously.” You smiled, which made Harry smile for a split second before Natalia pulled him away from you. Your smile disappeared and a frown settled in, knowing it would stay there for a long time.

“Babe, I am here too you know?” Natalia joked, bur you could see the anger and jealousy behind her eyes. If looked could kill you’d be ten feet under, twenty times over by now.

“Sorry, yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and paid closer attention to her.

Lunch went by slowly.

Natalia scoffed when she heard your order; poached eggs on toast with three pieces of crispy bacon on the side, a portion of chips and a mint iced tea. Oh and a cake for pudding, but you’d come to that later. Natalia ate her lettuce as Harry eat his salad as you ate your eggs on toast with bacon and chips. You loved the food, hated the company and couldn’t make up your mind whether you loved or hated being here. Natalia and Harry talked throughout lunch, leaving you out of all their conversations. The only time Harry spoke to you was when he asked whether your food was okay, eyeing it up as if he wanted to make love to it and send his salad to the nearest dumpster.

“Was everything alright for you?” Paul, the owner of the business and dude in charge of the eggs asked you when all your plates were empty as Harry’s growling stomach.

“Lovely, thank you.” Harry responded gratefully.

“Perfect.” You smiled as you handed your dirty plate to Paul.

“It was a bit plain.” Natalia moved her plate away from her in disgust and Paul put on his best customer smile, apologising for that before leaving to go and ring up the bill.

“Okay i’m just going to go for a quick wee before I pay.” Harry announced, getting up from the table to go to the loo.

“Okay babe. Don’t be too long.” She called out and then it was left just you and her.

“Well this was nice.” You tried to be nice, as Harry told you to, and start a meant conversation with your arch enemy. Kill ‘em with kindness - that was Harry’s slogan wasn’t it?

“If you hadn’t have been here then yeah.” She turned her nose up at you.

“Look,” you began, wanting her to understand something, “whatever i’ve done to upset you and make you hate me, i’m sorry. Just, I don’t want you to dislike me and I know that Harry really likes you so I want us to be able to get along.”

“Listen, Y/N,” there it was again - your name spoken with dripping venom, “I don’t want to get along with you. You make me sick. You are such a baby to Harry and you’re needy, which means I don’t get to spend time with my boyfriend—”

“Don’t get to spend time with him?” You had to laugh at that. Apart from today, you’d seen Harry maybe a total of 2 hours this whole week and it was Saturday. “You’re practically attached at the hip.”

“Not enough. Harry needs to keep away from you, you only bring him trouble.”

“I’m his fucking sister.” You shouted quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace for the rest of the customers.

“Not an excuse. Look Y/N, I understand that you are quite lonely and don’t have many friends? Maybe you should consider that’s for a very good reason?” She rhetorically asked you and that made you sit back a bit. She was pulling apart your insecurities now and exposing them to find the most painful parts, so she could watch you suffer with only the curse of her words.

“It’s not like that.” You tried to convince yourself more than her, tears in your eyes over something so hurtful to you.

“No? ‘Cause I think that you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.” She stood up dusted herself off as he noticed Harry walk back over to the table, smiling as if she hadn’t just shot his sister in the heart.

Her words stung more than a scorpions tale, and yes unfortunately you knew what that felt like. Natalia was right. You were alone, friendless and just trouble. There was a reason that you were all of this and Natalia had hit the nail right on the head with the reason why. You thought of your friends, his they always disappeared and left you and now you sit in the canteen alone or hang out only with yourself on the weekends. You think to Gemma and Anne going away for the weekend, not inviting you because it was age restrictive but you still couldn’t help but think there was a more pressing reason than that. Then you think of Harry and how he was fed up of you. He couldn’t be more resentful of you if he tried. You wanted to be a good friend, a good daughter and most importantly a good sister, but it was so blindingly obvious that you weren’t. You were never going to be.

You stood up from the table too, quickly wiping away a tear from your face before anyone could notice but you didn’t care to see if anyone was actually watching. Harry kissed Natalia and then walked over to the cashier to pay the bill. You noticed Paul and Harry talking and so you walked out of the restaurant and towards the car, still tears in your eyes. You needed to be strong for yourself though, especially because nobody else was going to be.

You stood with you handle to the door of the car waited for Harry to come and unlock it. You heard high heels before the car was unlocked, unfortunately.

“Excuse me, but I ride front.” Natalia spat at you, removing your hand from the door and chivvying you to the back of the car instead.

“You’re coming with us?” You asked, your heart aching that little bit more. You didn’t want to spend another minute in her presence and yet she would now probably spend the rest of the week until your mum and sister came back.

“Ye—”

“No she’s not.” Harry walked out of the restaurant and over to the car, standing in between the both of you but a little more towards you.

“Babe? What do you mean?” Natalia asked, a little bit shocked at his tone with her.

“Firstly dont babe me. Secondly, get your hand off my car. Thirdly, don’t ever come near me or my sister ever again.” Harry ordered angrily. You’d never seen him this angry before. You stood behind him, afraid of what was about to go down.

“What has she said to you, because—”

“She’s my sister and she’s got a name. Y/N didn’t tell me anything. Lemon Puffs, however, has eyes and ears everywhere and it’s amazing the stories you hear when you’re stood at the cashier or next to someone at the urinals.” Harry accused Natalia and she went hot red in the face, embarrassed that this conversation was actually happening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Maybe this will jog your memory. ‘I think you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.’” Harry raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest confrontationally. Guarding and protecting you. You felt safe.

“Wha— You think I would say that?” Natalia asked, pretending to be offended by the accusation.

“I don’t know, let’s ask Y/N shall we? Y/N, did Natalia say that to you?” Harry asked, turning to look at you with hope in his eyes, but also sorriness for everything that’s happened. You could see it all behind his eyes and you wanted to squeeze him tight to accept his apology, because you loved him and you needed him.

“Y-yes.” You answered, looking down so you didn’t have to make eye contact with Natalia.

“Harry you can’t possibly believe her.” Natalia laughed, but there was heavy insecurity in her tone.

“I trust her more than anyone. More than you. I trust Y/N with my life.” Harry back answered, taking no more bullshit from his ex-girlfriend. “We’re done Natalia. Okay? I don’t want to see you ever again. What you’ve said and done to my sister is unforgivable and I don’t want someone like you in my life.”

“You were a dick too.” You added quietly behind him and he just turned round to smile and wink at you.

“So what? That’s it?” Natalia asked, dumbfounded.

“Bye Natalia.” Harry walked around to the drivers seat and you to the passenger side. He stopped before opening the door though, wanting to say one last thing. “The bill was split in half by the way. Paul’s just inside waiting for you to pay.”

With that, you both got in the car, laughing at Natalia’s reaction and just everything. Apologises were made and promises of no relationships until you two had built back up yours were sworn. It would take time, but Harry was willing to prove that he was a good brother and you were always going to be someone he wanted around.

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